into the parking garage, stopping at one of Evie’s sports cars and demonstrating how to sweep it both inside and out, showing me how to adjust it to test for different transmission frequencies. He pointed out some of the less obvious places that a bug or tracker might be hidden.
He motioned to a row of cars and handed me the device, “Go to it.”
I took it from him with a grin and started in on the first car in the row. Nothing. I looked at him with narrowed eyes, but he just grinned and looked away. I started in on the next car.
“Aha!” I cried, when a few beeps led me to a little magnet stuck to the undercarriage of a bright red Ferrari. I continued on down the line of cars with no success. I looked up with frustration and he started whistling.
“Are you finished?” he asked. Then it struck me.
I went back to the Ferrari and scanned the dashboard, finding one more. There was a third one tucked into the side of the headlamps. When I finished, I handed him all three.
“Well?”
“Well done,” he nodded. “Rule number one: Never leave a job unfinished. Now let’s go try an interior room.”
I swept the kitchen and lounge of the security center, learning how to adjust the device to compensate for the electronics in the television, refrigerator and microwave. I found one hidden in the cushions of the couch and another inside the coffeemaker.
“You got them all,” he announced proudly.
“So I get to keep this, right?” I asked, reaching for my purse. The thing started beeping like crazy.
“Yes, but you’ll have to keep it turned off around the Taser,” he pointed out . “Interference.”
“Thanks . ” I smiled, “Now can I shoot some real guns?”
I followed Paul through the soundproofed door and into the shooting range, watching as he punched a code into a lock that opened a large storage unit. I looked over his shoulder to see that it contained an arsenal, bristling with guns of every size and shape.
He cocked an eyebrow at me, “Are you sure you’re ready for a . 45 ?”
After a few rounds of practice with a purse sized pistol, he graduated me to some higher caliber handguns, wearying me with more gun safety lectures. We went over loading and unloading procedures until I could do it without looking. I could tell he was impressed by my progress, but he wasn’t going to allow me the satisfaction of any praise.
I didn’t care, I was on a mission.
“Let’s see,” he held out his hand. I passed him a weapon with the barrel pointed down, watching as he checked and re-checked my loading skills. Once we started shooting them, I was glad for his thorough approach. The more powerful guns required a better stance, and a more focused approach to aiming. They kicked back harder, but I fully was prepared to handle the powerful jolt.
Now we shot at paper targets shaped like men, that moved both sideways and directly towards us. He had me stow the gun in my purse, and practice retrieving it, removing the safety, and firing in a few seconds. We both took aim at a target that was coming at us, comparing the holes we made.
I’d shot my man in the shoulder, lungs and belly, while Paul had put a bullet right between the eyes and directly into the heart. He looked at me smugly, pointing.
“There’s your killshot.”
I nodded to mine, “Wouldn’t that be enough to stop him?”
“Rule number one…” Paul said meaningfully.
“Never leave a job unfinished.” I said, looking at his target.
He got a faraway look in his eyes, and I imagined he was remembering some terrible battle fought long ago, “Never forget the objective of the mission. The target must n ot be allowed to escape.”
My hair stood on end, and I thought of Edwards and Olivia. “I won’t,” I whispered.
He looked down at me with a wink.
“Now, may I have a gun?” I asked.
“Soon enough,” he s miled , “We’ll take care of you soon enough.”
Our lesson ended with Paul denying me a weapon , ignoring my
He motioned to a row of cars and handed me the device, “Go to it.”
I took it from him with a grin and started in on the first car in the row. Nothing. I looked at him with narrowed eyes, but he just grinned and looked away. I started in on the next car.
“Aha!” I cried, when a few beeps led me to a little magnet stuck to the undercarriage of a bright red Ferrari. I continued on down the line of cars with no success. I looked up with frustration and he started whistling.
“Are you finished?” he asked. Then it struck me.
I went back to the Ferrari and scanned the dashboard, finding one more. There was a third one tucked into the side of the headlamps. When I finished, I handed him all three.
“Well?”
“Well done,” he nodded. “Rule number one: Never leave a job unfinished. Now let’s go try an interior room.”
I swept the kitchen and lounge of the security center, learning how to adjust the device to compensate for the electronics in the television, refrigerator and microwave. I found one hidden in the cushions of the couch and another inside the coffeemaker.
“You got them all,” he announced proudly.
“So I get to keep this, right?” I asked, reaching for my purse. The thing started beeping like crazy.
“Yes, but you’ll have to keep it turned off around the Taser,” he pointed out . “Interference.”
“Thanks . ” I smiled, “Now can I shoot some real guns?”
I followed Paul through the soundproofed door and into the shooting range, watching as he punched a code into a lock that opened a large storage unit. I looked over his shoulder to see that it contained an arsenal, bristling with guns of every size and shape.
He cocked an eyebrow at me, “Are you sure you’re ready for a . 45 ?”
After a few rounds of practice with a purse sized pistol, he graduated me to some higher caliber handguns, wearying me with more gun safety lectures. We went over loading and unloading procedures until I could do it without looking. I could tell he was impressed by my progress, but he wasn’t going to allow me the satisfaction of any praise.
I didn’t care, I was on a mission.
“Let’s see,” he held out his hand. I passed him a weapon with the barrel pointed down, watching as he checked and re-checked my loading skills. Once we started shooting them, I was glad for his thorough approach. The more powerful guns required a better stance, and a more focused approach to aiming. They kicked back harder, but I fully was prepared to handle the powerful jolt.
Now we shot at paper targets shaped like men, that moved both sideways and directly towards us. He had me stow the gun in my purse, and practice retrieving it, removing the safety, and firing in a few seconds. We both took aim at a target that was coming at us, comparing the holes we made.
I’d shot my man in the shoulder, lungs and belly, while Paul had put a bullet right between the eyes and directly into the heart. He looked at me smugly, pointing.
“There’s your killshot.”
I nodded to mine, “Wouldn’t that be enough to stop him?”
“Rule number one…” Paul said meaningfully.
“Never leave a job unfinished.” I said, looking at his target.
He got a faraway look in his eyes, and I imagined he was remembering some terrible battle fought long ago, “Never forget the objective of the mission. The target must n ot be allowed to escape.”
My hair stood on end, and I thought of Edwards and Olivia. “I won’t,” I whispered.
He looked down at me with a wink.
“Now, may I have a gun?” I asked.
“Soon enough,” he s miled , “We’ll take care of you soon enough.”
Our lesson ended with Paul denying me a weapon , ignoring my
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