Epilogue
For a CI5 agent – any CI5 agent - there was only one thing more scary than trainer Brian Macklin. And that was Brian Macklin in a bad mood. Not that it could be seen of his general appearance, no, at first glances nobody usually saw through the sarcasm and ice to the moods of the blond man with thinning hair, but when it came to training with this lean yet muscular man in his mid-40's, be it in the gym or at the range, well, even old Dante knew there were different levels in Inferno. And at the moment, even Macklin himself couldn't remember when he had for the last time been in this bad mood.
Friggin' idiot Towser. He had over and over again told that moron that some day he'd perform one stunt too many, and had reminded that no matter how big and strong the man was, he wasn't exactly an acrobat or ballet-dancer in his prime. And here he was, walking into his office, fresh out from the hospital where he had left Towser to wait for a surgery, as the man's knee had snapped doing his favourite stunt, which was freaking out a pair of trainees by dropping down behind the poor bastards when they had stepped in the warehouse used for special combat training. And snapped big time, his kneecap had practically jumped out from the socket.
If the big dark-skinned man hadn't already been groaning of pain, Macklin would have wanted to bash his head. Not only because of anger and frustration, but because he knew that the accident would most probably mean Towser's career in CI5 was coming to an end. Towser wasn't an agent, only a former soldier and street-fighter, whom Macklin had managed to draw into CI5 to be his helper for special combat training, before the man had completely destroyed his brain with steroids and drugs. For years the job had helped the big ox for a man to hold on to some sense in his life, but what would happen now with those torn ligaments?
And even George had been like wild boar with shots in his arse when Macklin had called from the hospital to tell the news.
Yeah. Bloody fantastic.
Macklin threw his jacket on his desk and tried to decide what to do. It was 1:30 pm, he could order the newcomers back for a couple of hours. But maybe it would be safer to leave it for today. Safer for them.
Whatever.
The trainer went to his locked cabin and took out his favourite, Cold Cobra, and a few boxes of ammo. This time of day the range was usually empty, and if it wasn't, it would soon be. He was in no mood for company.
None whatsoever.
He heard the thundering shots while opening the door. Another one shooting with Magnum .44s, by the sound of it, so probably Bodie or Murphy. Anyway they could piss off too. Probably would even without being told to.
But instead of the dark-haired men, Macklin saw a stranger. And not only a stranger, but a strange woman, middle-height slender bird with long blonde hair collected to pony-tail, starting to re-load. And a S&W M29 of all weapons?
What the hell?
Macklin was approaching to send the bird flying to the orbit, when she noticed him, and took the other ear-protector off from over one ear.
"Dirty Harriet, I presume." Macklin wasn't in the mood for birds either. Not even ones using Magnums. "May I be as bold as to ask what the bloody friggin' hell are you doing here, and who are you?" The only effect was that the blonde took the protector off the other ear too and wiped her right hand into a piece of cloth.
"You must be mr Macklin, Bodie said you might come in. I'm Anna Ashton, hi, how are you?" And indeed the bird had the nerve to stretch him her hand!
Grudgingly, the man accepted the handshake and admitted being the said Macklin. But as soon as her hand was in his, he noticed the hardened side of her palm and his eyes squinted a little when he had a better look on the woman. "You're the American bird." George had told him about the Doyle-incident after raging about Towser's bloody knee. And yeah, the woman was a little pale and her eyes looked like she had been crying at some point.
But now he saw the woman roll those blue eyes. "You know, it really would be most interesting to know what kind of a bird all you Brits are talking about. A hummingbird is a tad different from an ostrich after all." Sounded like she wasn't in her best moods either, and somehow, that took a little away from Macklin's annoyance. Come to think of that, it was quite an amusing throw.
Then the woman sighed. "Sorry about that, mr Macklin. It hasn't been my best two days. But to answer your question, I was interviewed here and Bodie offered me the chance to calm my nerves after that, by shooting for a while. He allowed me to loan this Wesson from your armoury and gave me some of his own old ammo to dispose of. I hope you don't mind?" That was a genuine question. "I have to admit I wasn't in the mood for really being in any company."
"Well that makes two of us." Macklin grunted and thought for a moment. "All right, shoot, for all I care."
"Thanks." He was given a small smile.
Macklin had already decided to take the farthest lane, but somehow he found himself putting his ammo down on the next table. The bird seemed to have no intention to converse anyway, she had already covered her ears.
"Why that Wesson?"
"Uh, sorry?" she bared her one ear again.
"I asked, why that Wesson?" Well hell, despite everything, Macklin really felt curious. "Birds... women don't usually like it. Or any other .44 Magnums."
"I don't like it either."
That was strange. "Bodie wanted to bug you then?" He could believe that, the badger the man could be.
"Nope, I asked for one when I saw them in there. The weight is uncomfortable, and honestly the recoil and the grip are bastardly for me, but that forces me to concentrate and I need that."
That did it. Now, Macklin simply had to see how the woman shot. "Well concentrate away then." While preparing for his own shooting, Macklin followed discreetly how, after finishing the re-load, the woman attached a new butt, and started to shoot. After two rounds, he tossed the discreet. After the fifth, he took all the used targets and checked the marks.
"Not bad, not bloody bad at all, using a gun that doesn't suit you." Macklin's hands were on his hips when he looked at the targets he had spread on the floor.
"Well it isn't half as bad as the one I was first taught to shoot with when I was a kid." The woman had uncovered her ears again.
"And what was that then?"
"Colt 45."
"Colt 45?" Now, that was ridiculous! The woman herself was grinning at that, and Macklin found himself laughing out loud. "You've got to be joking! What are you, a bloody Wild West cow-girl or some Annie Oakley incarnation?" That made the woman chuckle too, and as she had ran out of ammo, and Macklin had ran out of annoyance, he suggested a competition and in the next half an hour they disposed of his own bullets as his Cobra was of same calibre.
"Last bloody time I give any handicap to anyone." Macklin had serious trouble in trying to decide whether to be annoyed or not, as he had generously offered to use one-hand aim against Anna's two-hand, and had lost by a point.
"Well yeah, it wasn't fair really, because I had already warmed up." Anna did look a little smug though. "But I have to say, you shot really well for one-hand aim. I wouldn't have stood a chance if you'd used two."
Macklin decided to not be annoyed. "Heard you didn't do bad with your one-hand aim either."
But what was meant to be a compliment proved a punch, the woman's face darkened immediately and her eyes got watery. Only then Macklin remembered that the girl was a civilian. "Sorry about that, didn't mean to poke at sores." He felt awkward, crying women were something he really felt uncomfortable with. Even if he had himself been the cause. Or especially then.
But the girl only shrugged and with a deep breath took herself in check again. "It's ok, it just was an experience I could have skipped for all I care."
Well yeah, Macklin remembered how his own first close-range kill had bothered him, and hell, he had been in the business for quite a while even before that. "Good old England showing you her prettiest side, eh? All sunshine and fragrance of lavender."
Anna gave him a scowl. "If only you get past the downpour and gunsmoke. Have you ever heard of summer and ventilation?" Good, the girl had guts.
"Every time some bloody foreigner pops its nose here. Haven't been quite able to figure out the definitions though." However, Macklin did go to switch the ventilation on, while Anna was allowed to test his Cold Cobra with the last three bullets.
Just when Anna had finished, a head peeked in the door, it was Murphy. He looked surprised to see Macklin and their gear. "Eh, I was asked to tell you, mrs Ashton, that Bodie is tied up for maybe another 90 minutes or so. But it looks like you've found yourself company?" Macklin was amused by the clear surprise the tall man showed.
"I've had a very good time with agent Macklin, thank you, agent Murphy." Anna had found a small smile again. Murphy's blinking was downright hilarious.
"Uhm, well, I'm glad to hear that." There was some suspicion in Murphy's eyes. "Now, will you be staying here at the range, mrs Ashton, so that Bodie could find you, or has Macklin suggested some other light entertainment like a lovely round of karate in his charming company?" Murphy was very good in mixing damned insolence with perfect politeness.
"Oh by the way and just for your information, Murphy, you're scheduled for gym Thursday and Friday next week."
"Why what the... when was that decided?"
"Just now. Besides, you're a month overdue. See, Anna, Murphy is such a diligent little agent that he went all pale with anticipation." Macklin wasn't bad either.
Anna was trying to keep a straight face and was biting her lip, and Murphy looked like wanting to swear.
"But it wasn't that bad an idea, actually." Macklin looked at Anna, thoughtful. "I noticed your hands. You've done karate, right?" Anna nodded. "Anything else?"
"Judo, ju-jutsu, and a little bit of this and that."
"On what levels?"
To Macklin's surprise, Anna shrugged. "No idea, I've never participated any belt-examinations."
"Ok... for how long, then?"
Another shrug. "Since I was eleven or twelve, something like that."
"So you are able to fend off some ordinary bloke?"
"I'm able to fend off more than an ordinary... bloke." That came with clear and solid self-confidence.
Macklin was both intrigued and amused. Rare bird, this one. "Would you mind a round of judo, then?" Anna looked surprised. "I'm just curious. We have some women as agents, and they are a problem for me, haven't been able to achieve much progress with them. Would like to see if you're any different. At least you look fit." And to Murphy's astonishment, it looked like as if the blonde took that a compliment, and only looked thoughtful, when every woman in CI5 would be already be shaking.
"Why not, I have nothing to do, but I don't have clothes for that. These ones won't take tugging."
Macklin looked at her. "There are two suits trainees can use, the smaller one should fit you. And you can have a shower here afterwards. That ok?"
"Yeah, why not, then. That could be fun for a change, actually. Thanks." Then she smiled brightly at Macklin. "It will be interesting to see if you're as good as you look." Murphy turned away from the door, shaking his head. That woman was either stupid or mad. Utterly mad.
45 minutes later Macklin was swearing. "You should have bloody hell told me!" After some 30 minutes of most interesting judo where even Macklin had found himself off his feet occasionally, Anna had suddenly started to feel wobbly, and only then she had confessed to Macklin that she hadn't been able to keep any food inside her ever since the morning before. The trainer rushed into his office and returned a couple of minutes later with an energy-bar and jug of water.
"I'm sorry, it slipped my mind." Anna's hands were shaking.
"Are you also diabetic or something like that? Here, eat this. Now." He ripped the paper off and gave Anna the bar.
"No, I think my energy-levels just dropped."
"Good. But you're dehydrated too." And yet, the woman had managed to give Macklin some real resistance on the floor. "I should have thought, idiot", the man muttered at himself.
"You couldn't know. Sorry Macklin, this really was my fault."
"I should have guessed. Drink this." Angry, the man poured water in a glass he had conjured from somewhere. "I had heard about yesterday and saw there you were pale. But I forgot it when we started to shoot. Have another glass." He filled the glass immediately after Anna had emptied it, and he saw her hold the glass with both hands.
"All right, now you go and chance your clothes. The energy-bar should start working soon, but anyway leave the dressing-room's door ajar so I hear if you keel over. And once you're out, I take you to our cantine and you eat something there. I let Bodie know where to find you." Anna opened her mouth to say something, but the scowl she got from the man made her swallow and shut it.
Later in the cantine, after the woman had recharged her batteries some while they chatted about the training she had got, and Bodie had come, Macklin had still been snappy enough to give Bodie a tongue-lashing for not taking care at least of the rehydration of his companion. But actually, it was almost a little sad to say goodbye to the woman as she would travel back home the next afternoon. It would have been interesting to find out what she really was capable of. Purely professionally thinking, of course. And she was quite alright for a female, yeah, a little on the quiet side yet fun to talk with. The girl behind the counter had almost fainted though when they entered talking together.
"If you get another mental disorder and sometime visit London again, you're welcome to come shooting or whatever." Hearing that, Bodie looked even more surprised than Murphy had been.
"Why thanks! I keep that in mind. I'm sorry for the drop, next time I come with a full tank and battery. Promise." Anna winked an eye and Bodie was almost gaping.
"Do that." Macklin found himself smiling. "I look forward to some real play with you to see what you're made of. You're not too bad. And next time you can choose the gun to your liking but I won't give any other handicap. No mercy."
Anna was grinning again. "That's a deal, no mercy. But I also will have proper garments so that my pants won't be dropping all the time." Bodie's jaw had done the same. "Now, beat the crap out of these guys, will you?"
"Will do. As always." They shook hands, smiling.
Macklin watched after the pair when they left the cantine, and shook his head.
Some rare bird indeed.
