Gibbs cast an appraising eye over his Marines, seeking out the almost invisible forms that even he, knowing where to look, could barely see. They'd been lying motionless, concealed under leaves and branches, since a little before dusk. It was now fully dark, heavy cloud cover obscuring a thin sliver of moon.
There had been exactly one complaint about it being cold and damp. His bellowed response had ensured that the rest of his disgruntled students kept their opinions to themselves.
He whistled softly, giving them, finally, the long-awaited signal to acquire and take out their assigned targets.
A fraction of a second later, he saw movement through the night-vision scope that he had trained on the range. Some dense shrubbery was swaying too violently for the gentle wind. Sure it was just a racoon, he nonetheless trilled quietly twice, giving the 'don't fire' command. He stared intently at the bush, waiting for the furry masked intruder to reveal itself and allow the exercise to continue.
To his horror, he saw a human figure emerge from the underbrush, mere feet away from the line of targets he had set up hours earlier. He immediately called out a verbal 'hold fire' command, making sure that everyone heard him, even though there was no way his men could miss the presence of the trespasser and they would surely have enough sense not to shoot. A few seconds later, three more forms appeared, joining the first in an oblivious stroll across the firing range.
Gibbs leapt to his feet, grabbing the loudspeaker that would let his voice carry to the intruders. He could tell from the way they were moving that they were most likely civilians, although he didn't have the slightest idea what they were doing wandering around a Marine base in the middle of the night. They were about to become very unhappy civilians, he thought angrily.
Suddenly, a shot rang out.
The small group froze, only one of them having enough common sense to dive to the ground. Gibbs barked a hasty order at them through the loudspeaker, telling them not to move, before turning his back on them, not even bothering to make sure that they intended to stay put.
Several of his men had dropped their rifles and raised their hands, as if they expected their pissed-off instructor to shoot first and ask questions later. A chorus of 'wasn't me, Gunny!' met his questioning glare. Setting down the loudspeaker and night-vision goggles, he strode quickly along the row of Marines, checking each of their rifles as he passed.
It didn't take long to find the one that had just been fired.
Delegating to the highest-ranked of his students the task of securing the trespassers, Gibbs seized Lance Corporal Albert Martinez by the collar and dragged him into the darkness.