“When did this competition take place?” If the brilliance of her shooting was a result of her spirit gift, the talent could have manifested before the claiming.
“During mom’s birthday. Daniel came home to celebrate with us.”
Which, if he remembered right, would put the shooting match a month before Daniel’s death. Could her spirit gift have manifested that much earlier than her claiming? His had only been days apart.
He turned his focus back to her. “Shoot for the head this time.”
“Where in the head?” she asked with a breezy smile. Like the head itself, wasn’t a hard enough target.
His lips twitched. Getting full of herself, wasn’t she? Which wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. Confidence sharpened shooting skills. It was only when confidence slipped into arrogance that skills went south.
“Target the forehead. Cluster the shots as close as you can get.”
“Right.” She picked up the rifle, inserted a full magazine, switched off the safety, and got to work.
After the rifle fell silent, he reeled the target in and huffed out a laugh. She hadn’t clustered the shots as he’d asked. Instead, she’d formed a perfect smiley face with her shots instead.
“Smartass.” Damn. The girl was a prodigy. Her shooting was about to trigger every warrior on base.
He was more certain than ever that they’d found her spirit gift. The proficiency of her shooting was not natural. But he held the suspicion back. She’d ask why the elder gods would give her such a gift, if she was not meant to join the warrior class. Which was a good question, one he had no answer too. TheTaounahahad not clarified anything yet.
“I’d say you’ve mastered the rifle,” he said dryly as he pulled the metal target from the holder and replaced it with a paper one. “Let’s try you on the Glock.” He picked the weapon up and inserted the magazine. “This is a Glock 19. It had three safety sequences: a trigger safety, a firing pin safety, and a drop safety. These safeties are automatically engaged when the trigger pressure is released, and disengaged when the trigger is pulled. There is no physical switch.”
He showed her the safety protocols, how to insert and eject the magazine and demonstrated firing techniques. Then passed the gun over. She wasn’t quite as talented with the Glock as she was with the MK22. But damn, she was still good. Hitting squarely within the specified area each time. With more practice on the weapon, she would match her skill with the rifle.
“Can I try some of the other rifles and handguns?” she asked with the feverish gleam in her eyes of someone obsessed.
As obsessions went, this was one he could get fully behind. One he could even share.
“Absolutely,” he picked up the rifle and handgun and led her back into the weapons depot.
“Shouldn’t we clean them before hanging them up?” she asked, as he racked the two guns and deposited the spent magazines in the bins beneath their racks.
“A warrior’s personal weapons are his responsibility to clean and condition. But the weapons in the depot are cared for on a rotating schedule. Each week, a list of warriors is generated to deal with the weapons in the depot.” He walked over to a clipboard hanging from the MK22 rack. “Every time a gun has been used, its number is marked down on the cleaning clipboard hanging from its rack.” He tapped the red five printed on the MK22’s stock. “This alerts the warriors on maintenance that it needs cleaning.”
“I see.” She wrote the Glock’s number on the clipboard hanging from its rack.
“What rifle do you prefer?” she asked, as she ran her fingertips down the rifles racked before her.
“The MK18.” So did Wolf. Hell, back in the day, he’d almost rejected the weapon for that reason.
Her eyes crinkled as she thought that over. “Why do you like it?”
“Because of its purpose. The MK18 is a close quarter rifle. For insertions into tight spaces—places with walls and roofs. The MK22, the rifle your brother taught you on, is designed for long range assault. It’s a sniper’s weapon. I’m not a sniper.”
Had Daniel been training for sniping? He’d have to ask Wolf. It was a constant source of shame that Wolf knew more about O’Neill’s son than he did.
Gracie frowned, “So Daniel attacked from a distance and you attacked from up close?”
“Or defended myself,” O’Neill corrected . “Deploying a weapon is often about defending yourself and your unit, rather than taking the kill.”
“Can I try the MK18?”
“Of course.” he walked back two rows and grabbed an MK18 along with two full magazines. He also picked up a Sig Sauer M18, which was his handgun of choice.
They went through the weapons check again. He demonstrated how to work the MK18 and handed the weapon over to her. After stepping back and pulling his earmuffs on, he prepared to be wowed. She didn’t disappoint.
Christ, this girl—his daughter—was a beast on the shooting range. Her shooting was a piece of art.
