The Face of Freedom. Benjamin Vance
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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.