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(The Bullets Come Out This End)
Honey heard a strange scratching on her bedroom door in the middle of the night. She was determined not to open it because it seemed a bit foolhardy in a strange place with so many unfamiliar males of such wild and volatile natures. She heard a low whisper that revealed it was the impetuous Karl with the hair-trigger lips. The pretty widow had no doubts that the optimistic field agent was hoping for a little cuddle time on the sly. She was laughing behind her hand at his willy-nilly wooing tactics and just returned to her bed without saying a single word.
It was still dark outside when she woke up with all thoughts of sleep banished from her mind. She quickly donned her running clothes and took to the track that wandered behind the estate and up into a wooded section bordered by an ancient stone wall set there no doubt as a boundary of ownership. Off in the distance, she saw the rising sun and knew everything would be bathed in sunlight very shortly. She jumped the wall and ran down to the lush bottom land that showed no signs of recent tilling or planting of any kind whatsoever. It bothered her a bit to see the land not being used properly because she came from a long line of workers of the soil and she knew it was not good for the earth to be dormant for so long. It kind of reminded her of her own reproductive system which had been equally as untouched for quite some time and she knew it would be better for her overall health and nervous system if she exercised it more often. Strangely, Karl's earnest face came into her mind and she had to chuckle at her own slutty reactions to suggestive contemplation.
She sprinted up the slope to the main building and saw that a few lights were already on in both of the wings. She stretched her long legs at the empty stable and managed to enter from the side entrance and make it all the way to her bedroom without meeting any other early risers.
The Commander told her to wear her uniform this morning and she was quite satisfied with the fit which accentuated her neatly curved buttocks and highlighted her lush breasts fighting to be free of the confining buttons. She skillfully applied the cosmetics that she had not been using ever since she first heard of her spouse's swift end. It was a shock to see this strange painted female looking back at her from the dresser mirror. The lipstick was a bit too red but she had no other to take its place. It helped to draw attention away from her breasts which were far too pronounced for her shy up-bringing.
The breakfast hall was buffet style and she drew a generous mix of meats and eggs to get her started on the training day. The juice was of the canned variety, so she stayed with the tea which was perfectly brewed and just the right temperature.
Karl winked at her from the other end of the long table and she smiled in recognition wondering if he had knocked on any other doors last night after leaving unsatisfied from hers. The little conversations had already started and she determined that the day's order of business was strictly related to firearms and shooting familiarization. She didn't know if she was expected to participate but was not too concerned because shooting was an everyday feature in her family life before she married her Donald.
Sir Knightly was briefing the team leaders on the circuit for the day.
The entire group was split up into four sections and would follow a clockwise pattern through the firearms course. Each station was manned by a squad of specialists from the nearby Army training base and they had been doing this program for several months. Honey was told to join the "D" section and became an official "Dog". All of the sections were pretty much split up 50-50 gender-wise so there was no inference of gender bias. It was naturally assumed that the females would be less talented than the males just because of the nature of firearms use. In Honey's case, just the opposite was true. She had been certified as a small-bore expert in various categories and had almost made the Olympic team when she was at University. Her marriage had put an end to that "foolishness" in Donald's words since he was the one wearing the trousers in the family. Just as in the case of her unsuspected language skills, the Commander told her to keep it "under her hat" even though she seldom wore a hat these days with the exception of the required one for her regulation uniform.
The four stations were organized as follows; station 1 was for the breakdown and re-assembly of both a handgun and a military-style long-gun easily recognized as relics from the "Great War" but still reliable and effective for the job of killing, station 2 was the pistol familiarization range with the standard paper targets and the nicely constructed sandbag buffers to keep the slugs retrievable for reloading, station 3 was the long-range for the rifles. The targets were solidly constructed and nobody was allowed downrange when the red firing flag was flying, the final station, station 4 was a moving target range with targets on pulleys and a series of pop-up targets that required quick reaction before they were lowered into hiding once again.
Honey was already familiar with the weapons being introduced on the training course because of her Uncle's extensive firearm collection that she had been allowed to play with instead of the usual dolls. She had even been exposed to small arms repair methods under the guidance of several of his ex-military type employees who seemed to populate his isolated estate.
The other members of Dog section understandably assumed she was a firearm virgin and kept their eyes open so she would not make a costly mistake that night cause them an injury. She kept a low profile and soon they had already transited the first three stops on the circuit leaving only the "moving target" range as the last station. The other members of Dog section were having difficulties with the station for a number of varied reasons. A young man with a horrid scar that ran from the bottom of his left eye socket all the way to his left ear tried to ease her waiting jitters by telling her it was just a test to see if one was able to react quickly to a changing situation. He didn't seem particularly concerned about anything related to firearms so she got the impression he was already well familiar with them. His name was Claude and he told her to stand and then wrapped his long arms around her from behind like he was a mama bird protecting its young. She could feel his thickly coiled stomach muscles on the small of her back and then became aware of his dormant shaft resting comfortably right in the gap of her buttocks like some sleeping snake on top of a hot rock. There was no indication he was being rambunctious in his behavior so she attributed it to his friendly desire to see her pass the test.
Claude held her hand pointed down to the ground and told her,
"When a target pops up, just swing the weapon like this and let your eye draw a line straight to the center of the mass. Don't bother to aim or to stop and think things over because it will distract you and cause you to miss. It is just like pointing a finger and shouting ... Bang!"
Honey liked the way Claude fit around her and into her like a comfortable garment she would wear again and again until it was all worn out. Of course, he was far too dangerous and unpredictable for her because she was one of those Weston women who preferred sane and stable males. She was actually the last one of Dog section to go through the moving target course and only a perfect score would bring them to the top of the heap in the scoring department. She checked her magazine and made certain the rounds were all seated flush and tight. A loose round would jam the mechanism and that would be the end of any chance to get back in the running for top section. None of the others had any hopes for her to get much more than a half dozen points because she had been shooting at a barely adequate level up to that point.
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