What would Andrew Jackson do? Pepper thought to himself. He would probably want to turn back the clock to when he was president, to a time when there were no drones or Marshall Hails in the world.
“So, let me summarize our offer to Marshall Hail,” the president said, turning her gaze away from the painting, looking intently at her advisors. “Hail’s mission will be to turn Victor Kornev into a spy for the United States. If he does this to our satisfaction, we provide him with the location of the next terrorist on our list.”
No one spoke, but all the men nodded their heads in agreement.
“OK. Well, please tell me. Who will Hail will be hunting?”
Without hesitation, Pepper responded, “Afua Diambu.”
East China Sea — Aboard the Hail Nucleus
Kara closed her left eye and focused on the target downrange. She waited until her gun was steady, and then squeezed off a round. The nine-millimeter Glock 48 in her hand jumped, but the kickback from the weapon was negligible. She didn’t see much difference between her old Glock 43 and that of the new model. The CIA had upgraded their Glocks and provided her two of the new Glock 48 guns, including four extra clips.
“Not bad,” Hail yelled.
Both he and Kara were wearing ear protection.
The bullet had put a hole through the right eye of the manlike paper target, fifty meters downrange.
“That’s fifty meters,” Kara yelled back defiantly. “I bet you can’t even hit anywhere on the target at that range.”
She offered her new Glock to Hail and stepped out of the way. Hail set her Glock down on the small gun station in front of him. He then removed a gun from the back waistband of his pants. It was a big heavy model 1911 .45 caliber.
“Where did you get that?” Kara asked, noticing the intricate engraving that ran the entire length of the barrel.
“It was my father’s official sidearm during his time in the military. It was the only thing that he left me in his will. Well, he left me several guns.”
The shooting range was built deep down inside the Hail Nucleus, and it ran parallel to the engine room, the water desalination plant, and the ship’s massive water cooling systems. All those machines made noise, thus it only made sense to build the shooting range where a little extra noise would go unnoticed.
Hail pressed the switch on the pulley system that held the paper target, and ran it ten meters farther downrange. He then racked a round into his 1911 and pointed the gun toward the target. Using his other hand, Hail cradled the 1911 in his palm for a little extra stability before squeezing off a round.
Kara put a small spotter scope up to her eye and looked at the target closely, looking for a new hole. Nothing.
“See, I told you that you couldn’t hit the target.”
Without responding, Hail flipped the switch again, and the target began to move towards them, fluttering as it created its own breeze. When it arrived, Hail turned the switch back into the center position and looked closely at the target.
He reached up and pointed at the hole Kara had made with her nine-millimeter. Just to the right edge of her hole was a little larger hole.
Hail pointed it out to Kara and said, “Yeah, I missed by just a little bit.”
Kara removed her hearing protection, and Hail did the same.
“Damn,” Kara said. “Where did you learn to shoot like that?”
Hail shrugged, “From all the research you did on me and my family, you know that my father was not only a four-star General, but also the chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff. Well, my father always wanted me to follow in his steps so he encouraged me to join him in target practice. We didn’t do many activities that didn’t involve shooting something — targets, birds, deer. Hell, the only thing I haven’t personally shot is a human.”
“You shot Victor Kornev,” Kara corrected him.
“I think I shot Victor Kornev,” Hail countered.
“No, you shot him. We have recorded audio of Kornev calling for help in Pongch’un-dong after you tried to chase him down with your drone to kill him. In the audio, he indicated that he had been shot.”
“Anybody could have shot him. North Korea is a dangerous place.”
“Yeah, right?” Kara said sarcastically.
Kara changed the subject. “Do you want to shoot my Glock?” Kara asked, stepping in front of Hail and picking up the weapon.
“No, I really suck with those plastic guns. I like the weight of my 1911. I just can’t get use to the plastic fantastic weapons. Call me an old-fashioned guy.”
“How about I just call you old?” Kara said. They both put back on their hearing protection muffs.
At times Hail did feel old, although he was only in his early 40s. His change of perspective changed very little when “hanging out” with someone as beautiful as Kara Ramey who was in her late 20s. There was an undeniable chemistry between them that surpassed their age difference.
Kara found Hail rugged, handsome, confident, but he also had a childish side to him she found endearing. Deep down, she knew that the confidence part of his character was a hoax. Ever since his family had perished in The Five, he felt anything but confident. She had lost her family in the same attack, and Kara understood that feeling and was able to empathize with his plight. After all, how
can you remain confident when everyone you loved had been taken from you? And, you feel powerless — there wasn’t a damn thing you could have done to prevent the tragedy. She had seen that Hail had surround himself by walls that were impenetrable. Kara sensed a hesitancy to invest feelings in someone new. If the relationship didn’t work, would his damaged heart be able to recover?
Kara flipped the switch and ran the target out to seventy-five meters. She brought up her new Glock and prepared to fire.
Hail put on his ear protection.
Kara fired three quick shots.
“Not bad, huh?” she asked Hail.
“I can’t even see that far,” he said.
“Oh, good. Then see if you can beat that.” Kara smiled.
“That’s not fair. If I can’t see the target, how can I hit it?”
“Is that what you are going to yell at a bad guy when he’s running at you with a gun?”
“That’s why I have drones. I never intend to be that close to someone with a gun running either toward or after me.”
Kara took off her hearing protection, and Hail followed suit.
She looked serious.
“Remember I told you at some point you are going to have to put some skin in the game if you want to truly feel like you’re making a difference?”
Hail nodded.
“Well, that might entail you being on the ground, and in the thick of it. You won’t have the luxury of having your drones remotely taking out the bad guys. Some tasks need to be done in person, and that’s when things get dangerous.”
“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it,” Hail said, replacing his ear muffs.
“Where is that target I’m supposed to shoot, again?” Hail said, waving his gun comically back and forth downrange as if he was a blind man.
A half hour later, Kara Ramey and Marshall Hail had gone through all the ammo they had brought down to the ship’s gun range.
“You should have pulled the trigger on this new Glock just a few times,” Kara told Hail. “After all, how often do you get to shoot a brand-new gun?”
Hail laughed to himself, and said, “More often than you would think.”
Kara looked at him inquisitively and asked, “What do you mean?”