| From: | Paul J. Adam ShadowTK@********.demon.co.uk |
|---|---|
| Subject: | Range Officer |
| Date: | Tue, 2 May 2000 21:34:41 +0100 |
>>>>>[Strange guy.
I like him, but he's... strange.
So is meeting the real guy, after knowing such a plausible imitation.
They don't even look that much like each other. If you actually _knew_
them both you'd have seen the deception in a moment, but Lynch got the
essence of Mitchell, everything you'd hear about him second-hand, and
just... managed.
Now I'm dealing with the real thing. Creepy.
But his info's good and so's his taste in weapons.
+++++begin video
Hart steadies the pistol, keeping a two-handed isometric stance. Though
she's aiming through her smartlink, she's still using the iron front
sight with its tritium insert as a reference... once in a blue moon the
smartlink will run haywire, and a backup and check is second nature for
some.
The weapon fires, and it's a powerful weapon with a hefty compensator if
the noise and the way the smoke jets is a clue: Hart's second shot is
almost lost in the noise of the first, a very, very fast double tap. She
shifts her aimpoint from the target's chest to its head, firing a third
shot before the first empty case rings on the range's concrete floor.
"Nice." Someone beside her says, as the target flashes with three solid
hits, the red glow coalescing into three ruby points: two, almost merged
into one, in the hologram's sternum and a third in its forehead.
Hart clicks the pistol's safety on. "Very nice indeed, Christian." She
lays it down on the firing point... it's a full-on racegun, an Ares
Classic Predator extensively and heavily modified by an expert gunsmith.
Muzzle brake, slide serrations, widened ejection port, smartgun adapter,
tactical light, hooked trigger guard, racking lever, bobbed hammer,
beavertailed backstrap, bevelled magazine well, wider safety and
magazine release... the only anachronism is the plain Pachmayr grips,
where normally you'd see computer-tailored orthopaedics optimised for a
particular shooter's hand.
"It's yours, Julianne."
Hart turns to look at her companion: Commander Christian F. Mitchell,
currently XO of Special Boat Unit 12 of the UCAS Navy's Sea, Air and
Land force. "To steal a phrase, you gotta be shitting me."
"Nope. She's a beauty, but she also needs looking after. Just a strip,
wipedown and spray every day, but you can't rely even on that in a SBU.
I'm back to the vanilla Predator II for a sidearm, she copes with salt
spray and dirt, what do I do with this? Let it gather dust, or give it
to someone who needs it?"
"You know, Commander, Lone Star issues us with sidearms..."
"With Thunderbolts." Mitchell makes a dismissive gesture. "Pieces of
drek. Oh, they're well built, but once upon a time Lone Star cops
learned how to shoot. Now, they point, pull and pray. I don't like
Thunderbolts."
"You liked the Guardian... or do you?" Hart sounds slightly confused, as
she tries to separate the real Mitchell from the false one she'd known
for nearly a year.
"Nope. It's chrome-plated crap for the image-conscious. If you've put a
round in a good spot, why waste two more in overkill? If you've missed,
why throw two more rounds after the first? If you _need_ follow-up
shots, pull the damn trigger again." Mitchell shrugs. "Anyway, I
bequeath you my Richard Wilson squirtgun, which I can't use for a couple
of years and which I'll have fun replacing when I _can_ use one. You can
keep her busy, it seems." The SEAL seems... awkward, embarrassed.
"Yeah. It seems I can." Hart clears and safes the weapon, puts it in her
range bag: pauses, thinks, takes a Browning Ultra-Power out of the black
nylon holdall. "You ever use the Browning? Combat custom job in .408?"
"Nope, but I wouldn't mind-"
"Take this." She hands Mitchell the Ultra-Power, butt-first, slide open.
"Thanks." Mitchell examines the pistol quickly. "Nice. Very nice. Needs
a smartlink, but - oh, shit. This was..."
"Andy's. Yeah. His working gun, he called it. His legal piece, his ex-
CPDI weapon, I've got as backup. This, is spare, and clean, and yours
now. You can use it, right?"
Mitchell examines the weapon, then Hart, his pale blue eyes unblinking
and unmoving. "Thank you, Julianne."
Hart shrugs. "It's just dead metal, right, Chris? Now, since we're done
turning live rounds into empty cases, you said you had some information
for me?"
"Yeah, I did." The pair move back from the firing point, making way for
a Dwarf in combat trousers and a 'One Shot One Kill' halter top. The
background noise of gunfire makes Hart's recording choppy, and would
wreak havoc on any outside monitoring. "Six homicides, four of them
multiples, over three months. All with HK227s loading APEX ammo,
caseless, hot-loaded military, all the same 200-grain SSR +Ps. The
victims were John Does with good fake IDs. That much you knew, right?"
"With you so far."
"What we got, Juli, is a mob war." Mitchell says flatly. "Five teams
tried moving into your part of Tacoma, into the hole Malone left. I
sneaked the ID data through a few databases and got the info." He hands
her a chip. "That's the long version. Short version is, you've got a
two- or three-man team of hitmen with good guns and milspec ammo, wiping
out anyone sticking their nose into that territory."
"Fuck. This I could do without." Hart sighs. "Thanks for finding it out,
anyway. Bad news or not..."
"Sooner you know, the sooner you can check it out." Mitchell nods.
"Anything I can do to help?"
"Yeah. Do your military commando shit and kill all the bad guys." the
Lone Star lieutenant suggests.
"Wish I could, they're more fun than whitetail." The SEAL probably isn't
joking. "But I shot my bag limit already this year. You want me
involved, get me an extension."
She nods. "I'll see what I can do, Mitchell. Thanks." And she turns
away-
"Wait up. When was the last time you ate?" The unblinking pale blue eyes
might have a snakelike gaze, but there's something there that might be
concern.
"Lunch. Why?"
"I'll buy you dinner. Come on."
"Lieutenant Commander Mitchell, are you hitting on me?" Hart asks.
"Sure. And at least you get dinner."
+++++end video]<<<<<
-- Lt. Julianne Hart <21:34:56/05-02-61>
Lone Star (Tacoma)
