“Will you have a seat then?”
Eyes forward, she remained standing with her hands behind her back. “Where’s Smoke?”
“Given the circumstances and in concern for his own safety, he’s been relocated to an undisclosed location.”
Her nails dug into her palms. The FBI had whisked him away within an hour after Sid contacted them.
“What’s the matter?” Cyrus said, toying with his tie. “Didn’t get a good-bye kiss?”
Ted stretched out his hand. “Cyrus, that’s enough. She’s your responsibility, you know.”
The frosty man shrugged.
“Ted,” she said, “when did you become such a putz?”
“Now, let’s not get all insubordinate. I’ve warned you before. This time I’ll write you up.” He loosened his tie. “Will you sit down?” He eyed her. “Fine. Sid, the Black Slate, well, they want to move on. And they want me to talk to you about your next assignment. Given your situation with your niece, I think you’ll like it. A forty-hour week supervising the range and armories and assisting the ballistics teams.” He smacked the top of his desk. “It’ll get your life back to normal.”
She looked up, shook her head, and said, “You’re such a putz.”
Ted’s cheeks reddened.
Cyrus jumped up from his chair. “That’s it. I’m writing you up.”
She glared into Cyrus’s eyes and backed him down into his chair. “Go ahead.” She tossed her badge and gun onto Ted’s desk. “I resign.”
Smoke on the Water: Book 4
The Supernatural Bounty Hunter Files
CHAPTER 1
Approaching her stand at a public outdoor firing range, Sidney donned her headset. There were signs everywhere: “Hearing Protection Required Beyond This Point.” There were rules. She knew them all by heart. She took a deep breath through her nose. The smell of black powder and roasted brass awakened old military memories.
It was morning, warm and hazy. She wore sporty gym wear, black mixed with neon green. She set a soft leather duffle bag on her stand and unloaded her gear. Ten boxes of 40-caliber ammo, each box fifty rounds. This will be fun.
She pulled out her Glock 22. It wasn’t the one the FBI had issued her. It was her own, a backup. She swung another bag up onto the table, beige and marked with a red Ruger stamp. From inside, she pulled out a small, short-barreled assault rifle with bipod legs built in. It was called a Charger. It had a built-in laser sight and a grey, camo-wood finish. She pulled out a box full of 22-caliber ammunition, a thousand bullets in all. And this will be even more fun.
Four magazines for the Glock 22 were already loaded. A typical Glock 22 held fifteen rounds. She had two that held thirty. The Ruger Charger held thirty as well. She slapped the magazine in and checked the sights. Down range, at forty yards, were barrels loaded with sand. At close range, fifteen yards, were metal silhouettes mounted in the ground.
“That’s some fine weaponry you have there, young lady.”
Sidney glanced back over her shoulder. It was an older man, big boned with a frosty mustache. He wore an NRA ball cap and a pair of six-shooters on his hips, nickel plated with pearl handles. Bowlegged in his jeans and wearing a Cabela’s sweatshirt, he spoke louder than he needed to.
“Mind if I use this stand?”
Sidney glanced around. The range had more than fifty stands, and fewer than ten people were out there shooting. She shrugged. “Sure.”
“I won’t be crowding you, will I?” the older man said, lifting a brow. His voice was warm and friendly. “I’m just partial to this area on this side of the range. Eh, my name’s Jake. They call me Big Jake.”
“Hi, Big Jake,” she said, extending her hand and shaking his. His calloused hand had an iron grip. “I’m Sidney.”
“A pleasure, Sidney.” He smiled, revealing a gold tooth toward the back. His bottom lip stuck out, and his breath had a minty scent of tobacco. “My, we sure don’t see many gals out here. And you’re a mite prettier than the last one I saw. She was coyote ugly and couldn’t hit a barrel if she stood inside it. Woo! But, judging by her girth, she was a heckuva good cook. Wouldn’t be surprised if she didn’t have a stick of butter named after her.”
He kept going.
Sidney kept laughing. Before she knew it, half an hour had passed, and she knew everything there was to know about who came and went at the range. For some odd reason, she enjoyed every bit of it. The last three months had been rough. Taking care of Megan was a delight, but still a chore. She needed some time to be around adults. Finally, she’d left Megan with her parents for a long weekend. Sally and Keith were about to leave on vacation, and it would do them all good to spend some time together first. It was the first time she’d been separated from her niece since they’d left Allison at the ranch.
“Sorry for talking your ear off, Sid,” Jake said, plucking his six-shooter out of his holster. He opened up the cylinder and loaded in the bullets super quick and slapped the cylinder shut. “I don’t get to talk to the ladies much since my wife died.”
“Aw, I’m sure you get plenty of talking done when the opportunity presents itself.”
He let out a Santa-like chuckle. “I sure hope you come around here more often.” He loaded up his other pistol, holstered it, and squared up on his target. He turned his ball cap around and checked his earplugs. “Sid, this is where I like to show off a little. Watch this.”
“Oh, you’ve got my attention.” She leaned back against her stand and checked her headset. “Go for it.”
Standing like a big ape, stooped over with his thick wrists hanging to his knees, Jake twitched his fingers and narrowed his eyes. His target was twenty yards away. It was a row of six small metal bull’s eyes the size of fists. With uncanny speed, Jake eased one of his six-shot revolvers out of the holster. Two handed, he blasted away.
Blam! Blam! Blam! Blam! Blam! Blam!
Lead smacked into metal, making sharp plinking sounds. The bull’s eyes spun around and around and steadied again.
“Woo hoo!” Jake twirled the gun on his finger before stuffing it into the holster. “Didn’t miss a one!”
Smiling, Sidney clapped her hands. “That was awesome, Jake.”
He pulled out the other loaded revolver and held it toward her butt first. “Care to give it a try?”
“Sure,” she said with a shrug, “why not?” She took it from his grasp.
“It’s heavy compared to that polymer thing you carry, so keep a firm grip on it. That forty-five will kick.” He pressed his hands into her back and lined her up in front of the targets. A father helping a daughter. “Now listen. It’s got a hair trigger. Put that in myself. It’ll get away on you if you ain’t careful.” He gave her a little pat on the hip and eased away. “Show me what you got, girl.”
Sidney pointed the heavy weapon toward the ground, closed her eyes, eased her breathing, and visualized herself shooting the targets. She loved the range. The smell. The muffled sounds of shots being fired. The wispy scent of gun barrel smoke. Show this old fart what you got.
Simultaneously, she opened her eyes, raised the gun, took aim, and squeezed the trigger.
Blam! Blam! Blam! Blam! Blam! Blam!
There was no triumphant sound of lead hitting metal, only six fresh holes in the dirt.
“Morning glory,” she said, lowering the weapon with a frown.
Jake chuckled. “I told you. A big gun like that takes some getting used to.” He took the gun. “Next time, take your time between your shots. You would have hit the other five if you’d taken enough time to think about it.”
Shame on me!
CHAPTER 2
Sidney spent the rest of the day sharpening her aim. Hot and sweaty, she’d stripped down to a grey cotton T-shirt with a dragon logo on it. Taking command of the Ruger Charger, she emptied another magazine on the metal diadem 100 yards down the range.
“That’s better,” she muttered under her breath. Mopping the sweat from her brow, she reached ove
r and upturned the box of .22 long rifle rounds. It was empty. She checked her duffle bag, fishing around inside. No ammo was left. With a sigh, she got out her cleaning kit and started breaking down her weapons. At least I got my shot back. I hope.
She ran a cleaning square into the barrel. Feeling disgraced by the lack of control she’d had with Big Jake’s weapon, she hadn’t stopped shooting until she’d gotten her edge back. It had taken a few magazines with her own weapon before she was back on the mark again. It ate her up. She’d been a crack shot since the first time she fired a weapon. She’d never before lost her touch once. She’d only lain off a few months, and she shouldn’t have been off that much.
“Wrapping it up, I see,” Big Jake said as he walked by. He’d been working the range all day, speaking with plenty of older hands. He seemed to make a point of knowing everyone. “I’m guessing you have things under control again?”
“I’m pretty sure.” She ran the cleaning rod out of the barrel and checked the grimy square. “Thanks for the advice.”
Drumming his fingers on the pommels of his guns he said, “Care to try it again?”
“No, I’m good, Jake. Certain of it.”
“I know you are,” he said. “Say, where’d you learn to shoot like that, anyway?”
“My father. The military. The fact that I love it.”
Jake sauntered over and took a seat by her stand. He took his hat off and ran the back of his arm over his bushy brows. “Always feels hotter on the range than it is.” He looked her dead in the eye. “You’ve seen some real shit, haven’t you.”
“What do you mean?” she said, wiping down the small rifle.
“I can see it in your eyes, Sid. They’re pretty, but hard as iron.” He huffed a little laugh. “When you missed those targets with my pistol, I thought your head was going to explode. That look. It was dismay. And then suddenly, a light went on behind those pretty eyes, bright as a furnace. You set that little jaw and started getting it on.”
“These bullets don’t shoot themselves.”
“Heh!” He slapped his knee. “I suppose not!” His face reddened, and he started coughing. He tapped his chest with his fist. “Pardon me. Felt like I swallowed a butterfly. Anyway, what is it you do, if you don’t mind me asking?”
“I used to be a cop.”
“And what are you now?”
“Just between jobs.”
Big Jake narrowed one of his eyes on her. “You aren’t one of those mercenaries, are you?”
“What? No, why?”
“Eh, well—”
A very loud gunshot rang out. Pow!
Sid’s head jerked up. “Geez! Was that a fifty cal?”
“Yep,” Jake said, turning his head over his shoulder.
Two men on the far left end of the range were hunkered down over their .50 caliber rifles. They wore black ball caps and black T-shirts stretched over their muscles.
Pow! Two hundred yards down range, a canister of yellow paint exploded.
“Those two punks have been coming down here for weeks, blowing the crap out of everything. They’re weird. Almost spooky.” Jake spit juice on the ground. “They rub everyone the wrong way. Pushy types. You know. They talk, but it’s like they see right through you.”
Sid squinted her eyes. The pair of dusky-skinned men with slicked-back hair reloaded the monster bullets into their guns, speaking little. They were big men, like professional wrestlers. The one who wore mirrored sunglasses that looked small on his head glanced her way. He rolled a toothpick from one side of his mouth to the other and smiled. They had tattoos and triangle-shaped earrings in their ears. The other twisted his long neck around, revealing his cold, dead eyes. He sneered and turned away.
“Weird and ugly, ain’t they,” Jake said.
“Nothing surprises me these days,” she said, wiping down her weapon and placing it in her satchel. She kept her eyes fixed on the men. They were different. The way they moved. Sat. Stretched. Talked. It raised the hair on her arms. “I think I might go say hello.”
“What? Why?”
Sidney didn’t say. She wanted a closer look. She needed to look for the mark. A black sun rising. The sign of the Drake. It ate at her. Every time she went out, she’d notice a little something she hadn’t before the Black Slate. She had a new awareness. The way people spoke and dressed made all the difference. The weird signs on doors and even the slogans she read. Somehow, some way, there seemed to be subliminal messages that were tied to the Drake, or maybe to an even darker evil. “I’ll be right back.”
“Hold on now, Sidney. Uh,” Jake looked over his shoulder. “I’m about as tough as they come, but those guys make even me a bit nervous. I did two tours in Vietnam, you know. Got a Purple Heart to show for it.”
“I’ll be fine.” She glanced at the guns on his hips and gave him a wink. “Just keep those peacemakers ready in case things get a little hairy.”
“Fine, just stay out of my line of sight.”
Sid slung her jacket over her shoulder and headed down the range. Both men caught her coming their way. Both of them twisted around in their seats and faced her.
The one with the mirrored glasses spoke up. He had a heavy inner-city accent. “Something we can do for you, Miss?”
“I just wanted to get a closer look at those big cannons.”
The stockier, bald one crossed his meaty arms over his chest. “Is that so? I think you need to move along, lady.”
The other sniffed the air. “I smell cop. You a cop?”
“No,” Sidney said. “Just a gun enthusiast.” She eyed the weapons.
The first man, in the glasses, stood up, blocking her view. He was tall and rangy like Smoke.
“Awfully big for this range. You guys military?” she said, looking at the triangle earring in his ear.
“We’re rabbit hunters,” said the one sitting down. He slipped a buck knife out of the sheath on his waist and shaved a few hairs off his forearm. “I like to skin them. Cook them. Eat them.”
“I don’t imagine there’s anything left once you shoot them with that,” she said.
“Oh, I don’t shoot them. I sneak up on them.” He showed his calloused hands grasping in the air. “Catch ’em and squeeze them until they snap.” He made a breaking motion. “I’ve killed lots of them like that.”
Sidney’s stomach soured. The man wasn’t talking about rabbits. He was a killer. Both of them were. Hard-eyed, compassionless men. She ran her eyes up and down their arms and over their necks, feigning fear and fascination. No black suns. Mostly snakes, skulls, sharp blades, and guns. She started to back away.
“Where you going, little lady?” the first one said, tilting his head to the side and coming closer. “Don’t you want to hear more about our rabbit hunts?”
The second man slid in behind her. “Yeah, why don’t you come with?” he bumped up against her.
“Watch it!” she said. She tried to move around them, but the pair of them hemmed her in. Her cheeks flushed. “Move it.”
“Or what, sweetie?” said the one with the long neck. He cornered her against the stand. His eyes were like a hungry predator’s. Hypnotic like a snake’s. Paralyzing her limbs.
Her knees weakened. “Go, go away,” she said, trying to tear her eyes away from the long-necked man.
“You’re coming with us, honey,” he said.
Her shoulders sagged and her mouth dropped open. Heart pounding, she said, “Okay.”
CHAPTER 3
“Boy!” Jake said, sticking his gun barrel against the long-necked man’s ear. “You might want to step back, unless you want a ravine in your head.”
The man who had cornered Sid froze and slowly lifted his arms. “That would be foolish, old man. And I’m unarmed.”
“Don’t give a damn.” Jake pulled the gun’s hammer back. “Get the hell away from the lady.”
The man slipped to the side of the one in mirrored glasses and lowered his arms. “Just having a little fun with your
daughter. She shouldn’t be so nosey.” He flicked his nose with his thumb and narrowed his eyes. “And you, foolish old one, shouldn’t be so, heh, bold. You don’t know who you’re dealing with.”
“I know your kind. Seen my share of men with venom in their eyes.” He glared at them both. “My gut’s telling me I outta shoot you both down where you stand.” He stuffed his pistol back inside his holster. “Damn me for letting you live. Come on, Sid.”
On instinct, she took his hand. Her eyes widened. She took a deep breath and followed him back down the range without looking back. Behind her, she heard the two huge men laughing. She swallowed. She’d lost herself to them somehow. Their hypnotic stares had sapped her will. Much like it had been with the wolf man, Adam Vaughan. “Thanks.”
“You all right?” Jake said, helping her to a seat. “I hate to say this, but I saw your lights go out. You don’t have a medical condition, do you?”
She rubbed her temples. “No, no.” She couldn’t shrug off the horrible feeling she had inside. She started stuffing her guns into her duffle bag. “Thanks, Jake, but I’ve got to go.”
“Let me get you a beer. Settle your nerves.” He looked beyond her shoulder. “Besides, those grease balls are moving out. Probably drug dealers.” He hitched his thumbs in his belt. “I’m gonna have a few words with the owner about guys like that. Their kind seem to be coming around more often.”
She slung her bag over her shoulder. “I’m fine. Don’t do anything on my account. I’m a big girl. Nice meeting you, Jake.”
***
Back inside the Dodge Hellcat and roaring down the road, her nerves began to settle. She wanted distance between her and the men at the range. The abnormal men. Long-faced and fluid. Smooth. Crass. Seductive. This is exactly what Allison fell for.
When it came to men with power, her sister was a moth to a flame. The Drake probably didn’t have to promise her too much to get her to stay. A nice place to live and a line of credit. Allison would be all over it. Those were Sidney’s first thoughts about her sister. She hated herself for it. Shame on me.
The Supernatural Bounty Hunter Files: Special Edition Fantasy Bundle, Books 1 thru 5 (Smoke Special Edition) Page 42