Page 61 of Double Shot

“We’ve got some time and room to work, and the things we need to do include getting back home, locatingLe Generale,and making sure that nothing like Bootlegger Head happens again. That means getting our dear Sadie trained and ready so that if itdoes,happen again, she will be competent and capable.”

“I’m notincompetent.” she gave me a bit of a scowl.

“I know you aren’t incompetent, Poppet. Lach and I spent longer in advanced infantry training than I’ve known you. You have survival skills and wits, in spades,” I said. “But there’s quite a bit left to learn.”

“I can handle myself in a fight, I can shoot a rifle, I know how to take care of myself.” Her ire was unexpectedly raised. She was almost naked and already stoked to fight.

“Hand-to-hand, knives, pistols, driving, handling vehicles that aren’t cars with automatic transmissions, handling explosives, security protocols in electronics systems, there is a ton of stuff that you don’t know and before you interrupt, let me add the incredibly important word:yet.” Her lips were a tight purse, and she didn’t seem convinced. “I spent months with a Royal Marine drill instructor screaming in my face, and even longer doing things like running in the rain, at three in the morning.”

“In the rain, or in extreme cold, or standing at attention until someone passes out from heat exhaustion,” Lach added. “We’ll teach you, but it won’t be what we went through.”

“I don’t have any tear gas,” I said with a smile, only half serious.

“Oh, I’m thankful for that one, mate,” Lach said. “Once was enough of that shit.”

“That sounds like a lot of bullshit to go through,” Sadie said, running her bottom lip through her teeth thoughtfully as though measuring up the challenge before her.

“That’s the point, itwasa ton of bullshit. A nearly insurmountable amount of bullshit. It’s a heap designed to be so much that it breaks you. The training strips us down like a rifle, to our component pieces, and then slams us back together as not a person, but a weapon.” I leaned back in the chair I’d taken beside hers.

“I don’t know that I want to go that far,” she said honestly. “That I want to be a weapon.” Her voice was soft at the last.

“You don’t have to be,” Lach said. “But youwillbe able to take care of yourself, and if the situation calls for it, you’ll be able to take care of others.”

“Likeus,” I added. Sadie looked highly skeptical, and vulnerable for a moment. I could see the wariness, and the world weariness there too. How long had she been abused, jerked around, lied to, all of those horrible things? “And it is my sincere hope that you never have to use any of those skills, but it’s better to have them and not use them than the alternative,” I said gently.

“Come off it, mate,” Lach said. “You can’t white knight her now. She’s pulled the trigger; she’s seen everything that we do. You never know, she might find something in what we do that really gets her going.” I crossed my arms. “Seriously, the woman that owns this place, she’s one of us. Didn’t take much to figure that out. There are other women in this profession.”

“Yes,” I admitted.

“And Sadie? She’s our equal, that’s exactly how we’re going to do this,” he said and his tone brooked no argument.

* * *

Arriving backin Indigo City felt like a real coming home. Putting New York behind us felt like closing a chapter of my life that I was glad to see the final words of it committed to the page. The house on Phoenician Boulevard was splendid, a renovated historic home, with all the accoutrements of modern luxury but the classic styling of wood, tile, and metal that had faded in popularity decades ago. Everything was warm an inviting, which was nice. The bedrooms were also splendid, harkening back to a different era.

I welcomed such a definitive change in decor.

The location in Indigo City was likewise perfect, I was closer to my old pub, and I missed those comfortable seats and now that I knew that I could sit there with a proper pint and not lose myself to the bottle, I was looking forward to returning.

There was a gym nearby, which would be important since the house didn’t have a gym in it. That was a luxury I was going to have to learn to live without, at least for a while. The other learning curve was dealing with the massive Alaskan King bed, nine foot by nine foot, all the bedclothes had to be custom ordered, and sleeping with two other people was not something I was used to.

How many years had I slept alone?

That sleeping arrangement made our new training regimen slightly different. The workout routines were easy, cardio and light weight training were no big deal and just left muscle burn and sweat. The same went for firearms training, shooting guns was just that, nothing more. The hand-to-hand and mock knife fighting, those went differently.

Those were harder. Harder for all of us, and a few matches almost turned into actual fights, between myself and Lach, mostly. When the frustration got the worst of Sadie she would lash out, accurate and violent. I am ashamed to admit that there were a few emotional breakdowns. Some bruises –a lotof bruises, and an equal amount of hurt pride.

She could kick, so not all of those bruises were hers. She could also take either of us out, her heel strikes and leg sweeps superb. Testicles and fake legs were nowhere near safe when her ire was raised.

But at the end of it, we weren’t recruits and instructors, we were a unit – or at least that was the goal.

“So now that we aren’t sitting under an Escadrille Sword of Damocles, how and what did you teach Sadie?” I asked. He looked grim for a moment, my question taking him back to the aftermath of Bootlegger Head.

“Basic things at first, she can field strip most any pistol or rifle. She might have problems with anything weird. She can clear a jam and knows when she can fix a gun and when she needs to toss it and pull something else. Only real issue we found there was that a lot of the pistols in the bunker were too big for her hand. She can shoot most of them, but has to teacup hold them, and keeping the barrel on target is difficult for her.”

“What did she do well with?” I asked, stirring some cream into my tea, a luxurious feeling, even after Monaco and France.

“There was a PPK she did well with, but you know how small those are,” he said.

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