I really hated to do it, but I’ve been cleaning up the blog links, as it seems some good folks have just flat quit posting. Hate to do it, but it was time to clean house. Added Erin P (Lurking Rhythmically) , she’s got a good, funny blog from a female perspective and is also a shooter!
Don’t know how I missed this one, but this gent lays it out there…
I admire him for stepping up and telling the truth, and especially for what HE has done to defend/protect not only all of us, but the fact that he was willing to jeopardize his job by standing up and saying what he did.
We need more folks to be this honest and forthcoming.
h/t JP
Part 5
Throwing the last of the tickets on the table in disgust, Aaron looked at Matt and the rest of the table and said, “Well, I guess we got snookered again. Sometimes I think that is my typical luck, and it seems like it’s rubbed off on everybody else tonight.”
Matt laughed, “Well, we’re not going home empty handed Aaron, and I think the Colonel will be pretty happy with this, considering our competition this weekend. I don’t think we could legally have won anything anyway.”
The old man, Jesse, Matt and Aaron sat in a companionable silence, sipping coffee and nibbling on the deserts and cookies. Watching the other shooters, wives and girlfriends circulating between tables and admiring the various plaques the different teams had won and the winners of the raffles admiring their prizes.
There was a small crowd looking at the scores, and more than a few glances were coming their way. Both SAS and the SEAL team were off in a corner by themselves and raucous laughter was heard every few minutes. Jesse was looking at the plaque Matt and Aaron had won as the third place military team and decided to eat one more cookie.
“Oh damn, here comes the grunt again,” Matt moaned.
The old man looked across the table with a quizzical expression, “what’s the problem?”
“He keeps trying to catch us without our coins sir, Sergeant you’ve got yours right? Matt shook his head and started digging in his wallet for his as Aaron went for his breast pocket.
Jesse, not understanding what was happening looked over and asked, “Papa what coins are y’all talking about?”
The old man was reaching into his shirt and pulling out a pouch that was around his neck on a leather thong, from it he extracted an old silver looking coin and palmed it in his right hand. “Just wait and see Jesse,” he said with a evil grin on his face.
The Army Sergeant weaved up to the table and slapped his hand down on the table, calling out, “Coin check you misguided children! 101st, put up or buy up boys!” And revealed a coin laying on the table.
Matt and Aaron both slapped their hands down on the table, saying in unison, “Two MEF.” And showed their coins.
The Army Sergeant looked over at the old man, “Do you even know what we’re talking about old man?”
The old man raised his hand to the table top, gently laid it on the table and said, “DOL, Fifth Group; you know what we drink.” And showed the old silver coin in his palm.
The Army sergeant literally turned pale and quickly put his coin back in his pocket, saying “Yes Sir, be right back Sir,” as he turned away and headed for the bar.
Jesse, now totally confused, looked at Matt and Aaron, who were also confused at this point and realized the old man was smiling, if it could be called that. “Papa, what in the hell is going on?”
“Well, he stepped on his dick is what just happened Jesse; he didn’t think there would be any chance of running across one of us here, and he got caught out. I hope y’all like brandy.”
Jesse asked, “what do you mean one of ‘US’ Papa, and what’s DOL?” Matt chimed in, “I’ve never seen him do that either, what did you show him sir or was it what you said?”
Grinning, the old man spun the coin in his hand and passed it to Jesse, reaching under his shirt and taking off the pouch that had held the coin, “There are a few of us old farts around that go back to the early days when Fifth Group was the main Special Forces group in Vietnam.“ Pointing at the coin he said, “All of the old farts like me got silver coins presented by the General in country, and we all had these elephant hide pouches made for them. We all wore them around our necks, and vowed never to be without them. DOL is De Oppresso Liber, Latin for to free from oppression and the motto of Special Forces.”
As Jesse looked at both sides of the coin and passed it to Matt, she shook her head and just looked at the old man, “Why is THIS the first time I’m finding this out Papa? And what’s this about drinking, I’ve never seen you take a drink in my life at least that I can remember.”
“Honey, there are a LOT of things you don’t know, and I hope to God you never find out; that was a different life and a different time from today.”
At that point a very subdued Army Sergeant returned to the table with four shots and quietly asked, “Sir if there is nothing else, may I be excused?”
The old man just nodded. He gestured to the others and each picked up the shots, and he toasted, “De oppresso libre;” as they downed their shots. Jesse shivered and wondered what she had gotten into, and realized she didn’t really like brandy.
Matt realized the old man they were sitting with was one of the real warriors, and at least for him, things began to fall into place. The attitude, the old but well cared for rifle, the shooting ability, and his watchfulness all snapped into place and he decided he truly did not want to get on the wrong side of this man. And he decided that this old man had put more than a few in the ground over the years…
He also wondered if Aaron had picked up on it, or was too enthralled by Jesse to be aware of the bigger picture.
The old man turned to Jesse, “You about ready girl? We got miles to go tomorrow and I ain’t gettin any younger.”
Jesse just shook her head, “Well Papa, I guess since ‘you’ need your sleep I guess we better get you to bed.”
Aaron looked like he was going to say something, but stopped when Matt gave him the quiet hand signal. Matt noticed the old man smiling, and he guessed he caught it. The old man got up and so did Matt, Aaron and Jesse.
Fishing in his wallet, the old man passed Matt and Aaron cards, “Matt, Aaron, it was a pleasure to meet y’all, and I wish you the best in your careers; and if you ever get to West Texas, give me a call. I’ll treat y’all to some good BBQ on me.”
Aaron reached across and shook the old man’s hand, and Jesse walked around the table to give both Matt and Aaron hugs, and a peck on the cheek for Aaron, who promptly started turning red again.
Matt took the card and shook hands with the old man saying, “Mr. Cronin, if I ever get out that way I will, and thanks for letting us join you. I couldn’t help but notice that you’ve never even checked your scores. Do you know how well y’all did?”
“Nope, and I really don’t care. This trip was just for fun and to get outta Texas for a bit, and let Jesse see a different part of the country,” the old man replied.
Jesse looked at Matt asking, “Did you go look? And if you did, how’d we shoot? Papa never tells me anything.”
Matt, looking at both Jesse and the old man responded, “Well sir, y’all out shot everybody but the SAS and you tied them at 462 of a possible 470 points. AND you did that without really modern guns, or scopes or spotting scopes. If y’all had been a bit faster, you would have won the law enforcement side hands down, and probably beaten most of the military folks.”
Jesse and Aaron both looked at Matt in incredulity, but the old man just smiled. Jesse hit the old man on the shoulder, “Dammit Papa, why didn’t you tell me we did that good?”
“Cause I don’t care hon, this is all for fun, so it don’t make a damn how good we did. And I knew coming in I was too old to run that far that fast. But I wanted you to see that YOU can compete with the boys, and you don’t have a damn thing to be apologetic for. Now lets go,” said the old man as he shook Matt’s hand.
The old man and Jesse slipped out the back door, as quietly as they’d come.
The End.
Thanks to FarmGirl and Vine for the roofpreading… All errors are on me 🙂
And thanks to those who read and commented both here and via email…
Having seen ‘most’ of these (excepting the top cap), I can unequivocally say this is right…
And contrary to what BO says, there is not a single muslim quote on ANY memorial in DC or elsewhere that dates to the founding of our country that I am aware of…
And the revisionist historians seem to delight in leaving God out of quotes (Roosevelt quote on Dec 7), and changing quotes (MLK statue)…
Denial is not just a river in Egypt, it seems to be practiced by the politicians here more and more… The ONLY fair game seems to be the white Christians (male and female)…
What’s happened to America???
As more and more questions start to be asked…
From the Washington Free Beacon-
Senators are questioning whether the National Security Agency collected bulk data on more than just Americans’ phone records, such as firearm and book purchases.
A bipartisan group of 26 senators, led by Sen. Ron Wyden (D., Ore.) asked Director of National Intelligence James Clapper to detail the scope and limits of the National Security Agency’s surveillance activities in a letter released Friday.
Read the whole article HERE.
Are we now at the point that they are going to start using this stop light chart to set us up???
One from column A, and one from column B or C = terrorist/extermist (domestic or otherwise)???
I don’t have a good answer, but I think it’s NOT going to get any better any time soon… And when you add it the potential hot spots, both literally and figuratively, this could truly turn into a long hot summer…
I’m sleeping in this morning, considering that I finally got home at midnight last night…
Go read the folks on the sidebar, they’re GOOD!
Part 4…
Pulling up at the restaurant just before six, the old man saw the same deputy directing traffic in the parking lot. The deputy held up his hand and walked over to the truck as the old man rolled the window down, “Sir, y’all drive around back, there’s parking for y’all there and go right in the back to the room that’s reserved for you.”
Jesse smiled at the deputy as the old man grunted and pulled around to the back. Getting out of the truck, they met Matt and Aaron walking from their truck, both of them were in khakis and red polo’s with the Marine emblem. Jesse smiled, “Geez guys, I didn’t realize it was ‘formal’ tonight.”
Matt chuckled and Aaron blushed, “Ma’am, us Marines are ALWAYS formal.”
Everyone laughed at that, and Aaron held the door for the four of them to enter. Jesse went left through the door, the old man to the right. Matt entered and stepped to the side also, “Mr. Cronin, why do you do that every time you walk through a door? I know we’re trained to do that in our MOUT training, but I don’t normally do that back here.”
The old man glanced around the room and said, “Well Matt the only two times I’ve ever been shot that counted were both coming through doors, so I kinda have an aversion to standing there being a good target!”
“Twice that counted?”
“Yep, once in Nam, and once in a bar in Fort Stockton. Decided not to be a target anymore; sides, it’s harder’n hell to hit a moving target.”
“That counted Mr. Cronin?”
“Well, the others weren’t serious, they were just dings,” and turned away.
Matt just shook his head and followed the others into the meeting room. They were some of the last to enter, and finally found an open table at the back of the room. The old man took a seat facing the door with Jesse on his left. Aaron and Matt took the two chairs and left the last two open. At the head table Kyle was once again standing in front of the microphone scanning the room. He seemed satisfied with the crowd, and bent to the microphone, ”Okay folks, buffet style for dinner, and the bar is open, but it’s a cash bar. Y’all eat and then we’ll give out the awards. Enjoy!”
A waitress came around as the crowd surged to the buffet, so the four of them stayed seated and ordered tea and took their time. Finally the line got short enough to make it worth their while to get up and get in line. Going through they piled their plates high, and headed back to their table.
Jesse picked through her plate and commented, “This BBQ sauce is sure different than what I’m used to, and I didn’t see any brisket at all. But it’s not bad.”
Matt, having grown up in Western Virginia, proceeded to give Jesse and the old man a history lesson on BBQ and the infighting between Virginia, North and South Carolina and Eastern and Western variations within each state that had both Jesse and the old man rolling laughing. Aaron just chuckled and refused to comment, since he had grown up around Boston, and didn’t “do” BBQ until he’d gotten into the Marines.
Finally Kyle got back up from the head table and picked up the microphone while two assistants went over and unveiled two whiteboards standing off to the side of the room.
“Awright, lets get this show on the road. We’re gonna start with third place and work up for military first, then LEOs, and then we’ll hold the drawings for the prizes. Applause is fine, boos are fine, no cussing the winners allowed, we’ve got ladies present.”
Merle chimed in with a cackle, “Who you calling a lady you old fart?”
Over the laughter Kyle responds, “Well, EXCEPTING you Merle, there are a few ladies here…”
More laughter erupts and Merle just waves to Kyle, conceding the point to him.
“Third place, law enforcement, is… Jacksonville PD!, Y’all come on up!” Kyle starts clapping and the crowd joins in as the two officers from JPD come forward. Kyle presents them their plaque and various cameras flash as the three pose for pictures. Kyle points off to the side of the stage and the JPD officers step to the side.
“Second place, law enforcement is Tulsa PD, come on up!” The Tulsa officers come forward, receive their plaques with more pictures, they move over to the side and the four shake hands as they juggle their plaques.
“And in first place, Broward County Sheriff’s Department with a net score of 460 and a time of 51 minutes, give em a big round of applause!” Kyle lead the applause and once the two officers got to the stage, presented them their plaque; gathering all the awardees, they posed for more pictures and shook hands all around to applause and various good natured catcalls from the audience.
Kyle walked back to the microphone and started on the military placing, “Okay folks, for ‘this’ group please do not take pictures, as these folks are still going in harm’s way and we don’t want, nor do they want, their pictures out there. Now having said that, in third place are the Marines out of Quantico! Come on up fellows!”
Matt and Aaron looked at each other and got up and headed to the stage, as they were walking up, Jesse let out a wolf whistle that got every body around their table laughing, and Aaron turning various shades of red.
Once on stage, Kyle covered the mic and whispered a question to Matt, then turned back to the microphone, “Folks our Marines are First Sergeant Matt Carter and Sergeant Aaron Miller from the Weapons Battalion at MCB Quantico. They are both instructors in the Scout Sniper course and former Scout Snipers in the Second Marine Expeditionary Force. And Aaron tells me they are known as ‘Hogs’. Lets’ give them a big round of applause and again, no pictures please. And their score is 459 and 46 minutes!”
Matt and Aaron shook hands with Kyle and walked back to the table as the applause continued along with a few good-natured jibes from the other services. The old man leaned over and shook both Matt and Aaron’s hands saying, “Congrats guys, y’all had some pretty round competition to overcome there, and that’s DAMN good shooting.”
Jesse chimed in, “And pretty damn good running too!”
Kyle started up again, “And in second place we have the Navy SEALS, come on up gents!”
As the SEALS made their way to the stage, Kyle again muffled the microphone and spoke to the SEALS. Shaking his head, he came back to the mic, “Um… Mr. ‘Smith’ and Mr. ‘Jones’ here scored 460 and 43 minutes! Lets give them a hand.”
Laughter, applause and catcalls for ‘Smith and Jones’ continued as the two SEALS returned to their seats.
Kyle waved at everyone to be quiet and said, “And the first place team are our friends from across the pond, the Brits! Y’all, er… I guess I better use proper English, you ‘gents’ please come up to receive your plaques.”
Applause and a standing ovation happened as the two Brits walked to the stage. One of the Brits leaned over a whispered in Kyle’s ear, and Kyle started laughing.
Still chuckling Kyle stepped back to the mic, “Um, Mr. ‘Jones’ and Mr. ‘Smith’ wanted to remind me they are the original owners of those names, going back well before this upstart country ever got started, and they are proud to be the ‘Artists’ from Albany. Their scores were 462 and 40 minutes, and yes they RAN the entire course!”
Kyle presented them with the first place plaque as more applause and laughter ensued. “Okay folks, that’s it for the presentations, we’ll do the drawings in a bit.”
Matt and Aaron got up and walked over to congratulate the other military shooters along with the law enforcement winners, and received the good-natured ribbing from the other military shooters in the room. The old man and Jesse stayed at the table and waved down a waitress for more coffee, as they watched the folks circulate.
Matt wandered over to the whiteboard and checked out the scoring, and was amazed to see that the old man and Jesse had matched the best shooters with a score of 462 points! Merle walked up and Matt turned to her, “Thanks for all the work you did on the scoring ma’am, and we do appreciate it!” Pointing to the scores, Matt said, “Did you see the scores for the deputies?”
Merle laughed, “Yep, all you young bucks might be faster, but that old man can shoot, and the girl is pretty damn good too! Comes down to it, I wouldn’t want him on my bad side, cause I don’t think he’d hesitate to shoot. I watched them on the dots, and they didn’t miss but a single shot; and that girl got right back on it, no muss, no fuss. Oh, and I noticed your buddy has been sniffing around the girl pretty heavy,” she said with a grin.
Matt smiled, “Yeah, but I doubt that will go anywhere, because she’s smarter than both of us, and I’m pretty sure the old man isn’t going to let any of us get close to Jesse. He knows better.”
Matt headed back to the table when Kyle announced they were about to start the drawings for the prizes.
To be continued…
Funny you should ask…
That ‘little’ airplane in front is actually a Boeing 737-800 200 plus seats…
And for perspective, that is a 747-400 on the taxiway behind the A-380!
And of course it’s raining, again… STILL…
Only 26 more hours… Sigh…
Last day on the road for this trip, and finally got some roo pics for those interested…
All over the dang place…
And playing hell on the golf course!!! In the space of probably two miles, saw upwards of 75 roos, and no I didn’t get out and play with them!
And no, I wasn’t playing golf either… Sigh…
Based on the amount of standing water we saw today South of Sydney, I’m thinking it’s safe to say the drought is OVER!
And sometimes the ‘bar food’ hits a home run!
They looked at me funny when I ordered it without the beet root and pineapple, and the ‘lettuce’ is kinda funky, but DAYUM that was a good burger!!! And in a little pub just South of nowhere…
Now off to bed, butt draggin and 26 hour day comin tomorrow…
Part 3…
The next morning, after breakfast and the lectures, the old man and Jesse grabbed coffees and headed to the truck. Knowing they’d drawn 6th place in the starting sequence, they would have an hour of prep time and a chance for the jitters to take hold. The old men turned to Jesse, “Well, are you ready for this? We’ve got an hour, so I’m thinking about a nap…
Jesse just looked at him, “What do you mean a nap?”
“Well, all that snoring last night”
“I DO NOT snore, thank you very much!”
The old man chuckled, and Jesse realized she’d been had yet again, and finally shook her head and started laughing.
The turned to their guns, rechecking to make sure they were ready to run, and loading small backpacks with bladders, ammunition for both pistols and rifles, energy bars, and compasses; in addition to little medical blow out kits, Jesse also loaded the binoculars into the old man’s pack and the laser range finder into hers after loading new batteries into it. They both checked their EDC lights and knives in the pants pockets, and the old man slipped five rounds into his shirt pocket. He patted the other shirt pocket to make sure he had his wheel book safely tucked in that pocket.
They picked up their rifles and packs and walked back to the line. Laying their rifles on the end of a bench, they stacked their packs underneath the table. As they walked back to the stands, Jesse looked at all the rifles lying on the benches and just shook her head. Matt and Aaron walked up and set their rifles down as Jesse and the old man walked by. Jesse stopped and asked Matt what his rifle was, he replied, “Well, this is an M-40A5 in .308, McMillan stock, Remington short action, Premier 3 by15 Tactical on top and a Surefire suppressor hanging off the front. It’s magazine fed, 10 round Badger magazine modification.”
Aaron jumped in, “Mine’s an M-4 with a TA-31 RCO AGOG on top, and I’m shooting 62 grain Gold Medal Match.”
Jesse smiled at Aaron, and asked Matt, “Why the wrap on the silen…er suppressor?”
“It keeps the heat from coming off the suppressor after multiple rounds.” Matt pointed to other rifles setting on the benches, “See, about half of the rifles here have suppressors, and most of them have the wraps.”
“So those with the muzzle brakes are going to be a lot louder, right,” Jesse asked?
“Oh yeah, and don’t ever stand to the side of one of them, always get as directly behind one as you can,” Aaron said laughingly, “I learned THAT the hard way downrange when we were doing some vehicle interdiction.”
Jesse grinned and walked over to the old man who was lounging on the bleachers with his hat pulled down over his face. She plopped down next to him saying, “Papa, there are way too many nice rifles sitting out here. I’m almost embarrassed by that old gun of mine.”
“Just remember, the gun you know is better than any pretty gun Jesse,” the old man said, “and it’s our turn next, so let’s go gear up.”
The old man got up, gave Jesse a hand, and walked to the bench. Picking up his pack, he took out his eyes and ears and set them on the bench; he shrugged the pack on, settled it and picked up his rifle. Jesse was doing the same and no words were needed. Methodically he pulled out the earbuds, wet them and seated them comfortably in his ears, then pulled on his shooting glasses; the last thing was to make sure his ball cap was where he wanted it. Looking over at Jesse he asked, “You ready hon?”
“Let’s do this Papa, we ain’t, aren’t getting any younger”
Picking up their rifles, they walked down to the end of the firing line, and met Kyle the RO there. He gave them a timecard, gave them the first scenario for the cold bore shot and had them load and make ready. The old man scanned the range, and noted blue tarps blocking the view of the right side of the range and a set of scaffolding set up. He and Jesse loaded their rifles; once they’d done so, he asked if they were ready, they nodded and the beep started them on the way.
Jogging to the line, they stepped into the shooter’s box, went to prone, and confirmed targets. “Papa, I’ve got the left target, ready any time.”
“I’m on the right, in three; one, two, three…”
The two shots sounded almost as one, and they safed the rifles, got up and jogged slowly off the range.
“Okay hon, steady slow jog here,” the old man said, looking down at his compass to get a good heading and looking at the trail. It was scuffed by military boots, so everything was matching up.
Eight minutes later, they got to the first stage, clocked out and got the scenario, which was four targets spread across the hillside. Clocking in, they dropped down in the shooters box and Jesse started calling ranges, “Far left—75 yards, left center—125 yards, right center—225 yards, far right—256 yards; do you want me to take the two left,” as she reached for her rifle.
“Yep, left two are yours, I have the right two, engaging now.” Boom…
Jesse shot the 75 yard target, the old man shot the far right target as Jesse jacked another shell into the Winchester, and shot the 125 yard target. Safing the rifles, they got up and took a heading to the next stage…
Stage after stage, either at a fast walk or slow jog, they proceeded around the course until they got to stage 7. Twice they were passed by teams that had started behind them, but the old man just kept to a steady pace. At stage 7, they were caught by a third team at the clock, so the old man let them go ahead. Jesse was a little miffed, “Why did you do that Papa, WE were here first!”
Dropping down onto a convenient boulder, and patting the space next to him, he responded, “Think about it Jesse, we get our breath back, get a break off the clock, and get our heart rates down. Let those boys get up there, shoot and move on; betcha we do better than they do!”
Listening, he heard 15 shots, before the team scrambled down from the shooting box. Jesse drew a card, and the RSO told them their color was blue, clock in and go.
The old man clocked them back in, and they scrambled up the bank the 15 feet to the shooting box. Going prone the old man called, “Range check! You take the blue dots, I’ll take the blue shapes.”
“111 yards Papa, looks like 15 knots of wind, dead crosswind from the right.”
“Aim point is center of the dot for elevation, right edge of dot for wind Jesse, there are five dots, you get em, I’m on the five shapes.” Boom…
Jesse alternated shots with the old man, and had to take one extra shot as the wind shifted and she dropped one shot just to the right of the dot, “Cleared mine Papa.”
“Confirmed, safe and lets’ go.”
“Jesse, something tells me it’s about to start getting harder, this has been too easy to this point,” the old man commented as they trudged further up the ridge line.
Getting to stage 8 proved his prophetic, as they had to shoot from under a barricade with about 6 inches of clearance. Jesse was grumbling as she had to get down in the dirt to get good ranges, and take one shot; getting dirt in her hair and dirt blowing back in her face after the shot. The old man just ticked along, not saying much, just shooting the calls.
At stage 10 they finally got some long range targets, and also got their first significant angle shots, “Papa far target is 778, looks like 15 degrees down, go down two MOA, wind is about 15 knots, and it’s about 135 degrees to us slightly helping so I’d say hold low and 4 MOA right.”
“Got it, glass and check my hit,” the old man responded.
Jesse pushed the laser out of the way, got on the binoculars and called, “On it”.
“Target.”
“Send it.” Boom.
“Hit”
“Adjust right, second target, 525, 10 degrees down, come down 12 MOA, wind is 120 degrees, hold is 5 MOA right.”
“Target.”
“Send it.” Boom.
“Hit”
“Adjust right, third target, 438, 10 degrees down, come down 4 MOA, wind is 100 degrees, hold is 6 MOA right.”
“Target.”
“Send it.” Boom.
“Hit”
“Last target.”
“Okay, safe and let’s roll,” the old man said, getting slowly to his feet. Hunching and rolling his shoulders, he reslung his rifle and looked at Jesse, “How you holding up?”
“I’m okay Papa, but we’re about to get passed again; is your shoulder bothering you again?”
“A little hon, but I’ll survive; don’t worry about them passing us. Just concentrate on US getting through this.”
At stage 12, they had to shoot from the kneeling position to actually get clear shots at the target, and the old man noticed a couple of bullet tracks through the weeds, so he knew someone had tried to shoot that set prone. On stage 13 Jesse burst out laughing when they got to the stage, and there were a door and window standing there. The RSO told them the both had to shoot, one offhand through the door and one kneeling through the window. The old man had Jesse take the short target through the window using it as a rest, and he used the doorframe as a rest for his shot. Both hit and moved on to stage 14, which turned out to be a mover, the first one they’d seen in the competition. Three shots were required, through three ‘windows’ in the tar paper wall. The old man took the first shot through the first window, Jesse shot through the second window and the old man cleared the target in the second window also.
Trotting back into the range an hour and a half after they left, they were directed to the right side of the range, where a clock was sitting next to some scaffolding. Kyle was there and took the card from Jesse after she punched in, “Last stage, you have a school bus hostage situation, one shooter on the bus and moving around. He has a blue hat on and is surrounded by children and threatening to shoot them in the next five minutes. You have to climb the ladder to get a shot, and the powers that be want him taken out before the five minutes are up. Ready?”
The old man nodded and Kyle punched the time card in. “Go!”
Jesse immediately started scrambling up the ladder while the old man groaned. At the first landing Jesse stopped momentarily saying, “Can’t see everything from here, going up to the top.”
The old man continued climbing, shaking his head and thinking to himself that the heart rate was going to be through the roof by the time they both go to the top of the scaffolding, “Go, I’ll get there in a minute.”
Jesse got to the top of the scaffolding, flopped down, and pulled the range finder out of her backpack. As the old man got to the top, she yelled, “One hundred thirty-eight yards, wind is ten knots quartering left to right.” Reaching for the binoculars from the old man’s backpack to start looking for the target.
“Got it Jesse, get on your gun, cause we’ve only shot forty five targets, so there might be two on this one.”
Jesse stopped, and shook her head, then picked up her rifle and set up on the target rolling the scope back to a 2x, “Looks like random timing on pop-ups in the windows Papa, first three windows left haven’t seen a blue hat yet.”
“M’kay, keep watching and tell me if it’s the same figures that come up every time; I’ll take the two back windows.” Settling the scope on the bar between the last two windows gave the old man enough coverage to see both of them. A small head popped up in the last window, and he moved over to the next to the last window figuring that would probably be where the target showed. Suddenly it was there for about two seconds, but he wasn’t ready for the shot with a small child being held in front of the target. Wiggling down one more time he said, “Got the target fourth window back, hostage child in front, tight shot. I’ll take it if I get it again.”
Jesse didn’t answer, just kept watching the front windows. It seemed like it was taking forever for the targets to pop back up.
Boom! The old man had taken the shot and Jesse jumped a little bit, not expecting it.
Suddenly there was a swinger at the front of the bus, Jesse sighted in, saw the gun on the target and took the shot. Crack! “Swinger, at the front Papa, I think I got him.”
“Okay, unload and safe the guns and lets get down from here,” the old grumbled.
Jesse repacked her bag, threw it over her shoulder and followed the old man down the ladders back to the ground. Kyle was standing there when they stepped up, “Unload and show clear on the rifles please, y’all made it in the five minute window and y’all are completed.”
The old man and Jesse both showed clear and the old man grinned, “That was a tricky little set up there, with that swinger coming out. I can’t help but wonder how many have gotten it, and how many missed it.”
Kyle just smiled, “Well, lets’ just say you’re one of the few. Y’all can unload and either come back here and watch shooters come in, or go grab some lunch inside, or go back to the hotel and catch some down time. We’re not posting any scores here, those will be posted tonight at the restaurant after we award the various teams. Don’t forget, six pm for the feed.”
Walking back to the line, they stowed their rifles in the cases and carried them back to the truck. The old man opened the tailgate and they shoved the rifles into the back and covered them back up with the blanket. The old man sat down on the tailgate and reached over giving Jesse a hug, “You done good girl, I’m proud of ya for hanging in there today, and I hope you’ve at least had a little fun out here.”
Jesse hugged him back and laid her head on his shoulder, “Papa, I wouldn’t have missed this for the world. It’s been an education and then some thank you; and I stink, I’m dirty, and I’m hungry. So lets go eat and “I” want to go back and take a nice long hot bath!”
The old man just shook his head and chuckled, “Women…”
Getting up, they walked back to the clubhouse, grabbed some lunch and headed back to the hotel. Jesse got her long hot bath, and the old man got a nap in.
To be continued…