Читать книгу The Face of Freedom - Benjamin Vance - Страница 11

He’d been in the pine thicket about an hour when the old hound began a low growl, then started wagging his tail. Someone was coming through the woods noisily. He made a mental note to move his contemplation headquarters.

“Hey there you guys,” came the greeting from Julie, walking ahead of her mother. He breathed a little sigh of relief. He held up his hand in welcome.

“What are you ladies doing way out here?”

“Well,” came the metered response from Altrice, with a butt-in from Julie, “We thought you and the other old hound could use some grub.”

Altrice lightly reprimanded her daughter, “I don’t see but one old hound here, and he gets enough scraps from the kitchen to make him f-a-t. I don’t know why he isn’t.”

Julie asked with a chagrined smile, “Are you hungry?”

Not wanting to exclude future hospitality entirely when confronted with ladies bearing food, “Not much, but I could eat something I guess, especially from you ladies. Teddy here seems to want something too. Maybe he has worms.”

Altrice screwed up her pretty face at the mere mention of parasites, but Julie told her mother their vet told her he probably had worms. It turned out that as far as they knew Teddy had never been to a vet. Julie wanted to know why he renamed the dog Teddy. He told her his younger brother had been named Teddy. When she asked about him, the walker simply said he was hopefully in heaven. The ladies didn’t seem to know what to say after that. Altrice simply said, “I’m sorry.”

He ate and the hound ate a bit. After the ladies delivered the food, they headed for the camp on a mission to find the parts to repair the target holders before 4:00 p.m. Since it was almost 1:00 p.m. he wondered if the mission was possible. When he got back to the group of shelters he found he had help in the persons of two brothers obviously sweet on Julie and wanting to make an impression. The walker escorted them to the range and gave directions on drilling and reinforcing the holder frame. Then he left them to their devices and went to prepare for the shooting competition; competition because he knew what was coming among these folks. Most of them had practically been born with a gun in their hands. Guess what, so had he!Most of them knew how to kill game; so did he. The disparity was that he had actually killed people in combat; many people unfortunately.

That was always the hard part; always ... no matter how many times it had to happen. Killing should never be easy. However, combat experience kept the target range rangers and the combat veterans demonstrably separate in the first minutes of combat; often the minutes that mattered most. Some of the members may have killed in combat, but sometimes those ex-military folks could not join the paramilitary groups. Most had been used up emotionally, and didn't want any more of it. At least most normal ones didn't. Only the few that enjoyed it sought more. He’d actually seen men who enjoyed it sexually. He often wondered what deep hole those genes came out of. Still, there were the few who had a calling.

As he approached his quarters, his thoughts were interrupted by a young man who asked if he needed any ammunition for the shoot. He thanked him and asked how long the competition lasted. The young man smiled and said, "Usually until Mr. Lazenby wins!"

The walker countered with, “Well, maybe we better bring supper today then! In any case no, I don't need any more ammo Son. Will there be a chance to get any more on the range if it's needed?”

“Yes sir, as long as it's nine millimeter parabellum. We have a lot of it and reload all the time." We don't have that many people with forty fives and forties.”

“Okay, I guess I'll have to shoot extra special today, thanks!”

The young man bid him good luck and left him alone to enter his room. He retrieved his pistol and sixty rounds of .40 caliber ammunition in four magazines. If he needed more he would have to shoot someone else's weapon. He had more ammo, but could not leave himself short. He had special loads and they were not cheap. His first, fifth, tenth and fifteenth rounds were tracers; habit. He thought it made an impression, and it always indicated where he was on target. It was a bit of flare that he allowed himself, but was seldom seen because he normally practiced in private.

It was about one thirty and he set his watch for three and decided to rest for about an hour. He had just laid down when he heard a scrape on the door. When he answered, the old hound came in as if he owned the place. He sniffed around a bit and then plopped down on an oval rug by the door as if guarding the entrance. He looked at the walker through hazy eyes as if to say, “You don't have anything to worry about, I've got your six.”

With that, the walker and “Teddy” lay down for a snooze. His alarm sounded at three and he didn't remember dozing off. He certainly didn't dream. The old dog looked at him as he sat up. The walker said, “Thanks old timer.” Teddy simply beat his tail on the rug a few times and yawned.

There were already about twenty people milling around at the range when he arrived with his chest holster, three extra clips and the old hound. Teddy wagged his tail at almost everybody. It seemed he enjoyed the notoriety. The walker didn't. He saw Julie leaning over the registration table. She was outfitted with all manner of shooting apparatus including amber shooters glasses. She really looked professional, and pretty. The look suited her. He walked up to the table without notice and watched for a few seconds. Then the conversation stopped and she and the young man she was having the conversation with looked up and their eyes caught him.

He simply said, “Good afternoon. There are quite a few people here already!”

Julie and the young man ... the one that had asked him earlier if he had enough ammo, smiled simultaneously. Julie introduced the man as “Simon Agee from around here.” The brown youngster exhibited a brilliant and genuine smile and asked if Mr. Walker would like to sign in for the shoot.

The walker confirmed that he would and simply signed "Walker." Simon already had his weapon listed as “compensated Glock, .40 cal.”

He supposed that Simon was the resident weapons expert and armorer. Julie confirmed that when she saw the question on the walker's face. He thought “What an intuitive and intelligent girl she is.” He wondered which side of the family it came from.

His thoughts were interrupted by a murmur in the crowd and turned to see Mr. Lazenby and Isadora coming through crowd of apparent well-wishers and ass kissers. The Lazenby’s were slowly moving through the crowd with Ralph shaking the hand of nearly everyone and lingering a bit with each. The walker started to turn to away just as he caught Isadora's getup and caught his breath.

Her breasts were practically falling out of her transparent red, jury-rigged blouse and bra, and her shorts were so tight that a camel toe was apparent from a hundred yards. He’d seen this before! He overheard Julie whisper to Simon that Ralph always brought his bait with him. She confirmed what the walker was thinking. Simon giggled like a kid caught with his hand in a cookie jar. Ralph used Isadora to distract. The walker wondered what else he used her for. He vowed to control his eyes and mouth. Lazenby's time would come, perhaps.

By the time they got over to the table to register, Ralph was flexing his hand; a good sign. He offered his hand, but the walker addressed Isadora first and offered his hand to her. "Hello Mrs. Lazenby. I trust you're feeling well today?"

Then without waiting for a reply, which would have taken minutes due to her surprise and dull demeanor, he stretched out his hand to Ralph, whose hand was slowly falling to his side while watching his wife. Lazenby recovered quickly and the smile he gave the walker demonstrated thoroughly that he understood the gaff. He wasn't used to being exposed so easily. Once Isadora understood what was happening, she beamed. They talked civilly for a while and then the game started.

Julie slid up beside him and welcomed the Lazenby’s with her usual composure. The walker saw that look in Ralph's eyes again and noticed the lengthy handshake he gave her. It made him want to start the target practice with Ralph Lazenby's forehead. Julie seemed to shrug off the intimation and announced to the crowd the target shoot would start in about five minutes.

The scorers and range master began to take their places. The range master was Simon. Once commo had been established between Simon and the scorers the shooters took their places. There were five scorers; the guys that slide the targets down, announce the score, then tape up the bullet holes and raise the targets again. They matched the five shooters; Julie Parker, Ralph Lazenby, the walker, Anderson Lynn; a nice guy and employee of Ralph's, Kitty Shermann; dressed almost like Julie and somehow appearing to be a close friend of Ralph's. The walker cleared his mind. He was assigned target three, the center one, between Ralph and Julie. Kitty was on position one, next to Ralph and Anderson was on number five.

Simon announced, “There will be five; shooting rounds of ten shots each. The targets will be pulled and scored after each ten rounds. The targets are at 50 meters. You have one minute to get ten rounds down range. If there are any problems, announce them immediately. ‘Any questions?” No one asked. Then he announced, “Ready on the left ... ready on the right ... ready on the firing line?” After he saw everyone was ready he announced, “Commence firing!”

The walker had not unholstered his weapon before Anderson got off his first shot. The walker inserted a 15-round magazine raised his weapon and sent the first tracer down range and into the ten-ring, almost dead center. His old baby was still dead on. He heard the murmur of acknowledgement from the crowd and heard Ralph laugh sarcastically and somewhat fearfully. Julie concentrated on a firing cadence that allowed a bullet down range every five seconds or so. He figured she would be a bad opponent shooter to be up against; very deliberate!

Anderson and Kitty shot pretty methodically, but Ralph did not. It seemed he was shooting just for fun and not paying too much attention to the others or to hitting the target. When the walker's fifth round lit up the line Ralph called on Simon to stop the shooting. He complained that the tracers were distracting. After a “manly” discussion regarding tracers in combat Simon got Ralph to concede that after the tenth round, he would switch places with the walker so that he wouldn't see the tracers out of his right eye. That put the walker next to Julie.

The scores were announced after the first round: Julie 90, Kitty 90, Anderson 100, Ralph 100, and Mr. Walker 90. Now he knew why Ralph wasn't really trying. He had a mole in the target lifting bunch. The walker asked that the scorers not be moved. Simon agreed and Ralph had no argument. The walker knew he had put all ten in the middle, but didn't ask for a recount. He also knew he had a mole working his target and would lose the match. There wasn't a thing he could do about winning, with Ralph's men down range, but he could help someone else win. He noticed Ralph's attention to Julie was not so distracting to her, so during the next series he put two perfect rounds into Julie's target while Ralph was trying to impress her. The scores were: Julie 100, Kitty 90, Anderson 100, Ralph 100, and Mr. Walker 90. The 90 was impossible since he had put only eight on the target. That would bear scrutiny if necessary.

As the shooting progressed, Ralph got more and more lax about his shooting. The walker's only concern was to make sure he didn't put a tracer into Julie's target. He kept mental track of the tracer sequence. He could not be wrong. He could only assume she had an honest scorer; or maybe a dumb one. He put at least one round into Julie's target every time. She kept getting perfect scores. Lazenby apparently didn't want to look too good so he also got a 90 just to seem credible.

By the fifth round Julie and Lazenby had the same scores. There was no doubt Lazenby would end up winning if the walker didn't take some action. Then it hit him that he was shooting on the repaired target holder. After he put two rounds into Julie's target, he took a moment to estimate trajectory of a ricochet from the angle iron the brothers had installed so well. He asked his forty for her help and they placed a round onto the angle iron. Since it was a “Man Stopper”, it blew into a thousand pieces; almost shredding Ralph's target. There were so many holes in it that no one could have scored it.

Ralph cussed, looked at the walker and wondered out loud why he was carrying a gun. Simon pronounced Julie the winner and everyone congratulated her, especially Ralph. Even though Ralph suspected treachery, he didn't seem to be distracted by the loss. It was just his normal way of influencing events he couldn’t control. Many people are like that and it serves them well until faced with life threatening situations. Then most become a liability, and are usually evacuated in a black bag.

Julie was ecstatic! The walker noticed her and her scorer talking and realized she had a friend in the target pits. ‘Another young man who was sweet on Julie; he couldn't blame any of them, but if she were his daughter ... well there would be some young men toeing the line.

Ridge Parker came out of nowhere with a big grin and a friendly handshake to congratulate him on the lowest score, and asked him not to feel too badly. He said that everyone realized Ralph was a great shot since he won almost every time. When the walker looked toward the Lazenby's he found it hard to keep his eyes off Isadora. He made a mental note that Mrs. Lazenby had been used a lot to distract from, and promote Ralph's agenda. Julie ran over to her dad and they both congratulated each other on her winning. He congratulated her on being such a great shot and she congratulated him on having such a super sharp shooter daughter. Everyone was in a jubilant mood; even Mrs. Lazenby, who kept stealing glances at the walker and catching his eye. He guessed she was doing what she was getting paid for.

Many people talked to the walker and insinuated they knew what went on and made it clear that his last shot was a welcomed one. After all, one can't score a mutilated target. Some hinted at a shoot off, but he was purposely non-committal. He suspected that after supper and ice cream, everyone would forget the target shoot.

He chose to sit with some of the folks who were new faces to him. He assumed they were actively employed and could not normally make it to the compound during the week. They seemed happy to talk to him, and he answered many questions. He purposely sat with his back to the Lazenby's, not to be rude but to avoid the glances from Isadora.

During the conversation he noticed recognition on the faces of several of the folks facing him, turned and saw Ralph Lazenby was about to join him. A lady sitting next to him refused to move for Ralph so he sat to his left close to a man that didn't seem pleased to have Lazenby within a hundred yards. Ralph was on his best behavior though and everyone at the table seemed to be considerate enough to be civil. He glibly consoled the walker on his poor showing at the shoot and asked if he would ever consider a rematch.

The walker responded with, "Maybe we could just go out and shoot at some pine cones sometime and discuss the state of the union." That was fine with Ralph. He patted the walker on the back as he left and invited him to his home sometime. The walker thought he would rather stick bamboo under his nails, but stood up and thanked Ralph for his hospitality.

The conversation was very civil and quieter than he remembered the night before. He wondered if he had misjudged Ralph Lazenby’s influence. He thought, “Perhaps the real leader or leaders are somewhere else this evening.”He really couldn't wait to get away from this convoluted bunch, but he had to try to sort out the leadership if they were to ever be a part of the movement.

“Hi there sharpshooter,” came a loud salutation from Julie as she kissed his cheek and whispered close to his ear, “I know what you did ... thank you! And I know why you did it ... thank you! Now I'm going to turn you over to Isadora.” She grinned and giggled as he cut his eyes at her in a fake menace. She bounded off like a little girl, very pleased with herself for being so observant. The scent of her remained and his heart thought of Linda.