Point of Impact by Tom Clancy Page A
Authors: Tom Clancy
Tags: Fiction, Suspense, Science-Fiction, Thrillers, Action & Adventure, Suspense fiction, Espionage, Computers, Technological, Political Fiction, Secret service, Crisis Management in Government - United States, Crisis Management in Government, Computers - United States, Secret Service - United States
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was better, and a good rifle better still. He smiled as he remembered the old story about a civilian who carried a handgun. A friend asked him, "Why do you have a pistol? Are you expecting trouble?" And the guy answered, "Trouble? No. If I was expecting trouble, I'd be carrying a rifle."
Then again, it was kind of hard to slip a scoped .308 sniper rifle under your Gore-Tex windbreaker. And the first rule of a gunfight was ...
Come on, John. You gonna shoot or stand here day-dreaming ?
"Reset," he said.
The screen went blank.
"Ten meters, double. Thirty-second delay. Go."
This time, the scenario computer gave him two attackers. One looked like a pro wrestler holding a long knife, the other an NFL lineman with a baseball bat. They charged.
Howard drew, gave the wrestler two, shifted his hand, and gave the lineman two. The last of the four cartridges in the revolver left the barrel at about the same time the lineman got within bat range.
Both attackers fell.
Howard thumbed the cylinder latch open with his right, pointed the gun at the ceiling, and used his left hand to slap the extractor rod hard enough to punch the empties out of the chambers. The hulls fell to the range floor. He pulled a speed loader with six more cartridges from his left windbreaker pocket. Reloading the P&R was trickier than doing it with his old S&W. There were spring-loaded clips in each chamber of the black-Teflon-coated P&R, to allow for using various calibers--the thing would shoot .380s, .38s, .38 Specials, and 9 mms, as well as .357 Magnums--and you had to keep the extractor partway out to make the speed loader work, and even so, it was slower than the Smith was.
Still, if you couldn't get the job done with six, you probably weren't going to be able to get it done at all.
He managed to get all six of the reloads into the chambers. He dropped the speed loader on the floor, hit the cartridges with the heel of his right hand a couple of times to get them fully seated, closed the cylinder, then brought the gun up into a two-handed grip as the third attacker appeared.
The attacker was a naked woman with a samurai sword.
Well. Somebody was getting creative with their programming. He wondered who Gunny had doing the scenarios. He'd have to ask.
Since he was ready when the woman came to life, he had plenty of time. He lined the front sight up on her nose and fired one round.
One to the head was plenty.
He looked at the score screen. Three for three. Not bad for an old man.
Gunny's voice came over the intercom, easy to hear with the smart earphones that kept loud noises out but let normal sounds in. "General, we have a troop of Explorer Scouts coming by in a few minutes. Okay if they watch you shoot?"
Before he could respond, Gunny said, "That's 'cause we want to show them how not to do it."
"You want to come out here and let me show you how it is done, Sergeant?"
Gunny chuckled, and Howard had to smile. That was less than an idle threat. Gunny could shoot the pants off Wyatt Earp, Wild Bill Hickok, and John Wesley Hardin all at the same time, either hand, and you pick it. He was outstanding with anything you could pick up and fire. Came from being a full-time range officer and daily practice. Too bad Gunny didn't want to compete anymore. They could use him in the annual shoot against the other services. He claimed he was too old, and as he was only three or four years past Howard's age. Howard didn't much like hearing that.
Howard himself was lucky if he got to the range three or four times a month. Usually Julio came with him, but with a new baby at home, he was doing father duty, and that cut into his practice time.
Julio was about to learn that a baby changed all kinds of priorities.
Gunny said, "Thirty seconds for a reload? Two-plus seconds to take out two goblins you started halfway to Los An-ju-leeez? Lord, we could have gone out for dinner and a movie and gotten back before you finished. I don't guess you're about to threaten the
Then again, it was kind of hard to slip a scoped .308 sniper rifle under your Gore-Tex windbreaker. And the first rule of a gunfight was ...
Come on, John. You gonna shoot or stand here day-dreaming ?
"Reset," he said.
The screen went blank.
"Ten meters, double. Thirty-second delay. Go."
This time, the scenario computer gave him two attackers. One looked like a pro wrestler holding a long knife, the other an NFL lineman with a baseball bat. They charged.
Howard drew, gave the wrestler two, shifted his hand, and gave the lineman two. The last of the four cartridges in the revolver left the barrel at about the same time the lineman got within bat range.
Both attackers fell.
Howard thumbed the cylinder latch open with his right, pointed the gun at the ceiling, and used his left hand to slap the extractor rod hard enough to punch the empties out of the chambers. The hulls fell to the range floor. He pulled a speed loader with six more cartridges from his left windbreaker pocket. Reloading the P&R was trickier than doing it with his old S&W. There were spring-loaded clips in each chamber of the black-Teflon-coated P&R, to allow for using various calibers--the thing would shoot .380s, .38s, .38 Specials, and 9 mms, as well as .357 Magnums--and you had to keep the extractor partway out to make the speed loader work, and even so, it was slower than the Smith was.
Still, if you couldn't get the job done with six, you probably weren't going to be able to get it done at all.
He managed to get all six of the reloads into the chambers. He dropped the speed loader on the floor, hit the cartridges with the heel of his right hand a couple of times to get them fully seated, closed the cylinder, then brought the gun up into a two-handed grip as the third attacker appeared.
The attacker was a naked woman with a samurai sword.
Well. Somebody was getting creative with their programming. He wondered who Gunny had doing the scenarios. He'd have to ask.
Since he was ready when the woman came to life, he had plenty of time. He lined the front sight up on her nose and fired one round.
One to the head was plenty.
He looked at the score screen. Three for three. Not bad for an old man.
Gunny's voice came over the intercom, easy to hear with the smart earphones that kept loud noises out but let normal sounds in. "General, we have a troop of Explorer Scouts coming by in a few minutes. Okay if they watch you shoot?"
Before he could respond, Gunny said, "That's 'cause we want to show them how not to do it."
"You want to come out here and let me show you how it is done, Sergeant?"
Gunny chuckled, and Howard had to smile. That was less than an idle threat. Gunny could shoot the pants off Wyatt Earp, Wild Bill Hickok, and John Wesley Hardin all at the same time, either hand, and you pick it. He was outstanding with anything you could pick up and fire. Came from being a full-time range officer and daily practice. Too bad Gunny didn't want to compete anymore. They could use him in the annual shoot against the other services. He claimed he was too old, and as he was only three or four years past Howard's age. Howard didn't much like hearing that.
Howard himself was lucky if he got to the range three or four times a month. Usually Julio came with him, but with a new baby at home, he was doing father duty, and that cut into his practice time.
Julio was about to learn that a baby changed all kinds of priorities.
Gunny said, "Thirty seconds for a reload? Two-plus seconds to take out two goblins you started halfway to Los An-ju-leeez? Lord, we could have gone out for dinner and a movie and gotten back before you finished. I don't guess you're about to threaten the
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