Chapter 30

CHAPTER 30

Mark

I spun around the corner, slinging gravel and dust up into the air while jerking the wheel to keep all the tires on the ground. "Whooooo! Yeah!" Ty hollered in excitement. We were tearing up gravel on the roads around the base. After our mission with Rage and Hammer, the whole northern sector of the country had quieted down. Ty and his team decided to take advantage of the lull, and were letting us play with their toys and have fun at the range. I'd decided that before we went shooting, I wanted to take their armed Polaris out for a spin.

It was a lot like the Polaris side-by-side off road vehicles you could buy back home, except that it was better in every way. The roll cage was stronger, with a rifle mounted to the passenger side and another mounted on top for someone to sit in the back seat and shoot. The whole thing was painted desert brown and overall looked like something out of a zombie apocalypse movie.

I was cruising through the perimeter roads inside the base, taking the opportunity to jump every pothole and sling gravel through every turn. Ty was riding shotgun, and probably just enjoying the fact that no one was shooting at him for once.

"How are you not out playing on this thing every day?" I asked him. I turned at the corner, power sliding before continuing down the perimeter.

"Because every time I take it for a spin, someone tries to blow me up. I've decided it's bad luck for me to be behind the wheel," he laughed as he said it.

"Good point, maybe I should leave you behind, just to improve my luck."

"Fuck that, I've seen the way you fly. I'm not letting you drive this thing unsupervised." We took another corner, then I gunned it down the eastern road that would lead past the barracks. In the distance we could see two people walking along the road. It was Jen and Laura. "Looks like Laura and your girlfriend are out for a walk."

I gave him a sharp look. "Not my girlfriend. At least, not yet, don't start any rumors." She was still holding out that we should ‘just be friends'. Hearing the word ‘girlfriend' would send her running. Now that I knew the game, I knew how to draw her in. This would take finesse, ironically aggressive finesse.

"Right, sure, perfectly normal for you to ogle a chick and argue endlessly. So in character for you."

"Fuck off," I told him. "Although you bring up a good point, I haven't fought with her in days. I'm overdue." I gave him a huge grin.

"That's the spirit," he said laughing.

An evil idea ran through my mind. I looked over to Ty and grinned menacingly. He returned the grin and quirked a brow; it was all the acceptance I needed. I turned towards them and gunned it, cutting the wheel at the last second and sliding to a stop less than a foot in front of them. Jen let out an exaggerated scream while lifting her hands to cover her face and turning away from us.

I looked at Laura. "She flying now?"

"Nope," Laura responded, with a knowing grin.

"Good," I said, reaching out of the Polaris and grabbing Jen by her belt. Her eyes popped out of her head and she squealed playfully when I dragged her into the Polaris, over my lap. I shamelessly took a second to enjoy having her body squirming over mine while pulling her in. "Grab her," I yelled to Ty, who had already jumped into the back seat and was now helping me drag Walker into the passenger seat. Before she could protest, I gunned it down the road.

"What the hell, Sheppard," she cursed at me while pulling herself upright in the seat. "I have work to do; you can't just kidnap me."

"Bullshit! Laura already ratted you out. You have nothing better to do. Besides, it's range day! We get to play with all the guns! You look like you could use a day of fun. Have you ever had that? Fun?" I looked over and smiled at her wide eyes. Something must have clicked because she relaxed and stuck her tongue out at me. "But first we need to get your gear."

We swung over to her helicopter where her gear was hanging by the door. "Ty, grab her vest, I'll hold her here in case she tries to escape," I said, throwing my arm across her chest and gripping the roll bar on the other side, effectively pinning her into her seat. Ty jumped out while I turned to watch Jen. She folded her arms across her chest under my arm and stuck her tongue out at me again. Before I could stop it, the thought of that tongue pressed against mine inserted itself into my imagination. Soon.

Ty jumped back in with her vest. "Let's roll!" he yelled, banging his hand on the turret for effect. I cut the wheel hard away from the copter and gunned it. We peeled out and spun, Jen letting out a strangled yelp as we straightened out onto the road down to the range. It was clear that she didn't like giving over control of a vehicle, or anything else for that matter, to someone else because she was hanging onto the roll bar with a white knuckled grip. Her smile, though, was stretching from ear to ear. She wouldn't give up control freely, but once you took it from her, then you got to see the real Jen.

The Jen that wasn't guarded, jaded and paranoid. Instead you got to see a woman that was fun, caring and kind. A woman with a smile that you would go to any lengths to see again and again.

We pulled into the range and I gave one more dramatic sliding stop, mostly to see Walker's reaction. She let out another yell, but she was smiling while she did. She'd finally relaxed sometime on the ride over and had submitted to having some fun.

Finally getting through the armor shell that is Captain Jennifer Walker.

We hopped out and walked under the awning. The range was laid out better than most others in Afghanistan. They had a large awning for shade, probably thirty feet wide and one hundred feet long, with picnic tables and benches spread out underneath. Most of the tables had rifles and ammo laid out already. The area in front of the awning was about one hundred yards long, with dirt walls on either side and a much larger dirt wall at the end.

In between were several barriers making individual lanes. It meant that we could shoot rifles and pistols and had plenty of space to maneuver for various tactical drills. It also meant that several groups could fire on the different lanes without getting in each other's way. There were already several man-sized target stands set up, we just had to grab guns, ammo, and shoot.

Some of Ty's guys were spread out around the rifles and ammo. As we walked up, they all looked at us. Before anyone could say anything, Ty gave the subtlest movement of his head, nodding to the left, towards the other lanes. "We're going to start our drills down at the end," Jeremiah declared. He and the rest of the team gathered their things and moved off.

Jen, not catching the subtle glances, followed me to a bench in the center that still had several rifles laid out. "When was the last time you did any serious tactical drills with your rifle?" I asked Walker.

"Serious tactical drills?" She looked at me quizzically. "Define serious?"

"You know, something other than the pop-up range back in the states. Tactical reloads, close quarter drills, pistol transition?"

Her eyes widened in a combination of fear and embarrassment. I continued, "Please tell me that MEDEVAC practices something useful outside the aircraft?"

Her look shifted from fear and embarrassment, to a combination of embarrassment and guilt. She gave me the guilty grin. It was so cute I could have kissed her on the spot. Instead, I said, "Well, you're fortunate that we kidnapped you today. Let's go." I handed her a rifle and some ear plugs. We walked out to the targets and I centered her on one of them. We were about fifteen meters in front of them.

"Aren't we a bit close?" she asked, while putting the plugs in each ear.

"For conventional Army training, we are. But we're not conventional Army, and this isn't standard training. If you or I are in a fire fight with rifles, it's because the aircraft crashed, or was forced to land out there." I waved my arm towards the wall, "and someone is running up to the aircraft. You and I have a very small chance of ever being in a long-range fight."

She nodded her head, "Makes sense."

"Some other things that they don't tell you, it's not uncommon for insurgents to be hyped up on some kind of narcotic, opium usually, when they fight. So, the traditional double tap might not be enough. We're going to practice five rounds to the chest for our first drill."

"Sounds good," she said, raising her rifle to her shoulder.

"No, no, no!" I yelled at her.

"What?" She looked worried that she might have done something unsafe.

"Your stance is all wrong, your grip is wrong… Your everything is wrong," I scolded her, stepping in to correct her. Maybe not everything was wrong, I thought, as I eyed her ass while I moved in close to her. She was wearing her regular uniform, camo pants which were essentially cargo pants, and a regular long-sleeved top. Somehow her ass was managing to look great.

"Square off on your target." I grabbed her shoulders and twisted her to face the target head on. "Give yourself a wider stance." I was still behind her holding her shoulders. I kicked the inside of her right foot with mine, then kicked her left foot, a little harder than I intended. She let out a grunt that, if I didn't know better, sounded almost like a moan. I must be hearing things.

I stepped to her left side and moved her hand from under the barrel of the rifle to the side. "Make a ‘C' with your left hand and grip the barrel tight." I slid to her right and moved the butt of the rifle further into her shoulder, "Keep the stock in the meaty part of your shoulder. Well, not that you have much meat here, but you definitely don't want it sitting on your shoulder joint." Her skin was turning red. Was she blushing? Or was I projecting my own horny thoughts? Being this close to her, and not making a move, was harder than I thought it would be.

Mentally shaking my head, I stepped around her again. "Finally, bend your knees slightly and lean in." I put one of my knees to the back of hers, giving it a slight push while putting one hand on her hip and one on her shoulder, pivoting her so that she leaned forward. Her ass brushed against my crotch inadvertently, making my dick jump to attention. Sucking in a quick breath, I shot her a look out of the corner of my eye. Her shoulders perked up an inch, and she seemed to try to repress a smile. That was an accident, right?

I stepped back and moved to her side so that she could shoot, unencumbered. "Okay, you're ready, aim for the throat. Your sights are set too high at this range, so the rounds will fall into his heart. Go for it." She ripped off five shots quickly, leaving a group in the chest less than two inches in diameter. "Nice!" I yelled, pride for her spreading through my body. "First time with this drill and you already have a good grouping. Do it again."

She did the drill five more times, emptying the magazine. We walked up to the target to look at the groupings. She was beaming. "Nicely done, you've got a talent for this. Let's bring it up a notch."

I walked out and dragged over two more targets, placing one on either side of hers. I put a fresh paper target overtop of the one that she had been shooting.

When I turned around to walk back, I stopped dead in my tracks. Walker had pulled her top off and was just wearing the t-shirt that was underneath. It was skintight, forming perfectly to her curves. Her rifle was slung behind her, with the rifle's sling sitting between her breasts. They weren't oversized, and she wasn't wearing a push up bra, but it was clear that they were plump and firm. I regretted—not for the first time—failing to get my hands, and mouth, on them when I had the opportunity. I yearned for the day I would get the chance to rectify that.

My eyes continued down her body. Her cargo pants hung tilted to one side of her waist. Cargo pants aren't supposed to be sexy. In fact, the entire point of issuing them to females is to de-sexualize them. And here she was, looking like she was a model walking off a photo shoot.

And then the evil bitch fixed her hair. The drills from the first shoot had knocked a few strands loose. She reached up behind her head and undid the bun, and simultaneously ran her hand through her hair while she shook it loose.

She has to be doing this on purpose. There is no way that this is a coincidence. Even the god damned sun is conspiring against me.

The sun glistened off her hair while she teased it loose. It lit up her whole face, giving her skin a little glow. If it wasn't for the sunglasses it might have been over for me. One look at those blue eyes with the rest of her shining like this…it just wasn't fair. How was a man supposed to resist the temptation?

This had started out as a fun idea for a date, at least what could pass for a date out here. Instead it was quickly backfiring on me and becoming a self-induced torture session. I bit down on my fist in an effort to compose myself. You started this, time to see it through.