Page 15

“You feeling lucky, esse?” Ernie was the team’s designated marksman and a crack shot.

“Maybe I am. How about you, Mike? You up for a little wager?”

Mike cracked his knuckles. “Yeah, I’m feeling lucky. I’ve got a twenty that says I outshoot you.”

“I’ve got a fifty that says I beat you all,” said TJ.

The men fell silent.

“No takers?”

TJ had a well-earned reputation for being a deadly marksman. Not only was he a qualified sniper, but he also competed in shooting competitions most weekends. Mike had personally witnessed him put five rounds through the same hole at two hundred yards.

“OK, let’s get this drill rolling.” As TJ had described, they started behind the firing point. “Rick, you can do the honors.”

“Aye, standby… go!”

The sprint wasn’t long enough to be a real competition. Not surprisingly, it was Rick who reached his rifle first, closely followed by Mike, then Ernie and TJ. They had sixty seconds to bring their gun into action and fire ten rounds—a task made difficult by heightened pulses and heavy breathing.

A fusillade of gunshots filled the air for forty furious seconds. Then, TJ gave the order to unload and make safe. With rifles slung over their shoulders, the team headed down range to inspect their handiwork.

“You should have taken that bet,” said TJ.

“Why’s that? Not on your A game?” asked Rick.

“Jagged a shot. As soon as I released, I knew it was off.”

“Hear that, boys, we may have finally bested the Chief.”

Ten bullets on the twenty-inch target at five hundred yards under perfect conditions was good shooting. All ten on target, with the extra stress that TJ had introduced, was excellent. As the men got closer, they could see where each other’s rounds had hit. Mike’s target was peppered with bullet holes, as were Ernie’s and Mike’s. Not TJ’s, though. His rounds formed a tight circle in the center of the target, except for one, which was six inches high and to the right.

“Are you shitting me?” exclaimed Rick as he examined TJ’s target.

“Told you I had a flyer.”

Ernie and Mike joined Rick at TJ’s target while the team leader checked each of their efforts. “Not bad, SEALs. No one dropped a shot off the paper. That’s good shooting, any way you look at it. Let’s patch out and rerun it.”

They used stickers to cover the bullet holes. Then they turned and made their way back to the firing point.

“Hey Mike, is that Ali’s car?” asked Ernie.

“Yeah, it is.”

Ali parked next to Mike’s truck as Ernie’s wife’s van and TJ’s wife’s sedan pulled into the parking lot.

“What’s going on?” asked Rick as Jenny and Ali emerged from her car with arms full of containers.

“Well, the girls thought it might be nice to join us for a spot of afternoon tea. I figured it might be a good opportunity for some ‘on-the-job’ family time.”

The men left their rifles on the mound and joined the women a short distance away on picnic tables under an awning.

“I hope you boys have worked up an appetite,” said Maria as she added a plate of fried Mexican donuts to the spread that included a baked cheesecake, bottles of lemonade, a box of pastries, and an unopened box.

“Wow, what’s the occasion?” asked Rick.

Jenny hugged him. “Babe, funny you should ask.”

His eyes narrowed. “What’s going on?”