Chapter 7
A few days later…
Calleigh left a message that she was popping out for lunch and would be back in half an hour. Walking to a nearby café, she was amused to see that Mich had selected a table inside, and not on the pavement. Joining her at the table, Calleigh could see that Mich was obviously disturbed by something, "Hi Mich, how's everything…?"
Ordering coffee, Calleigh and Mich exchanged pleasantries, Nicky was recovering slowly – working with Mich's horses gave him something to focus on rather than brooding about doing nothing. Mindful of Horatio's words, Calleigh told Mich that the case was being handled by the FBI and that the lab was no longer involved.
Mich's eyes narrowed, it was not what she wanted to hear. However, for now she would let it be, the time for answers would come later, and it would not be Calleigh she would get them from, that she was sure about.
Quietly she told Calleigh why she had asked to talk to her. Calleigh was amused, she could understand Mich's aversion to having a gun at home, the Brits didn't have much of a gun culture – their officers didn't even carry a side arm on duty. Mich explained how she had had 'some' weapons training during her time with the force, but needed Calleigh's help and advice to see what she needed.
Calleigh explained that the only time she could help was early in the morning before her shift started, Mich agreed straight away. Monday would be the best day for her – after a busy weekend, it was the closest she got to a 'day off' with the horses. There was one condition though.
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The following Monday, Calleigh and Mich met outside MDPD and made their way to the firing range in the basement. Signing Mich in as a guest, Calleigh was not at all concerned; Mich was ex-Scotland Yard after all. However, she did wonder why Mich didn't want Horatio to know.
Taking Mich into the gun cage, she chuckled as Mich's eyes opened wide at the range of handguns kept by the department, "What's wrong Mich – never seen so many?"
Mich laughed, "Sorry – it must look funny to you, but you're right, we would be lucky to see even a tenth of these at our department back home."
Going through the range of guns available, Mich very quickly decided that she wanted a semi-automatic pistol, rather than a revolver. When Calleigh asked why, Mich coldly answered "More rounds…more security…."
Taking a selection that Calleigh thought were most suitable to keep at home, Mich began to select or eliminate, based on the weight and balance of the gun in her hand. Now it was Calleigh's turn to narrow her eyes, as the gun specialist, she realised that Mich knew more than she was letting on.
After about half an hour, Mich had narrowed her final selection down to three. A Berretta, SIG P226, and Glock 17. She nearly added a Walther PPK too, but grinned at Calleigh "I don't really want to play James Bond do I?"
Calleigh decided to dig a little, H had told them about Mich's service history, but not in great detail. "Whatever suits you Mich, why not, if you plan on playing at secret agent."
Mich gave Calleigh a quick look and shook her head. "Not anymore Cal, been there – sort of, done that. It's not all it's cracked up to be." Gesturing at Calleigh to lead on, "Shall we see if I can remember how to shoot?"
Taking position at one of the firing lines, Calleigh was interested in watching Mich's technique; the Brits traditionally used a single handed position, standing sideways on, very good defensively – but no good if your handgun was on the heavier side.
Firing five shots from the three different guns, Mich discarded the Berretta almost straight away, for her it was the least accurate of the three. Calleigh was stunned, Mich hadn't fired any kind of gun in three years, but here using the point targets, her lowest score was a six – with the Berretta, meaning that the bullets all hit the target within a three inch radius. Any way you looked at it, if Mich aimed for the chest, the bad guy would be dead. With the Glock 17 and SIG P226, her lowest score was an eight.
Arranging with Calleigh and the range officer to come in every Monday for the next two or three weeks, until she had made her choice, Mich left happy. Calleigh stared after her thoughtfully, she had promised not to say anything to H, but sooner or later, her boss would be going in to practise and he always preferred to go to the range in the morning.
The following week, Mich continued firing the two pistols, trying to decide which she would like to keep at home, the SIG was more comfortable in her hand, but she was familiar with it – it was after all the preferred handgun for most European police forces and many of the military departments. The Glock, was so easy to fire and easy to clean and look after, the weight in her hand was a problem, heavier than the SIG she could feel the strain in her wrist, and shoulder.
Switching to the two-handed 'Weaver stance' favoured by most American officers, she could get all five shots in the 10, covered by a silver dollar, but Mich didn't like to stand this way – she would present too big a target to anyone facing her and she wanted to avoid that as much as possible. The following week she again came to practise, never staying more than half an hour, she always left by 7am.
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Horatio walked into the range, from the muffled shots he could hear, it seemed that someone was already here, probably Calleigh – she was another who liked to practice in the indoor range in the mornings. Ryan and Eric preferred lunchtime – if they weren't working a case.
Noticing that the other person had selected a lane at the far end, H stayed in the second, firing his first five rounds, he was pleased to see that all were within the 'A' ring – a ten on a scoring target.
Next he decided on firing 'double taps' – two consecutive shots, before pausing, and firing two again. Working through his routine, he barely noticed the time passing. However, he did notice when the person at the other end of the range started shooting a different weapon.
Taking a quick peek around the front of his lane, he saw that the other shooter was not Calleigh – she occasionally liked to shoot other handguns to keep her hand in, but like everyone else here, she preferred a two-handed stance. This person was using a single hand.
Intrigued, H cleared his Glock, and placed it carefully on the table, before walking slowly up the range, not a good idea to surprise someone firing live rounds, no matter who they were – accidents could still happen.
As he approached, the firing stopped, and he heard the person putting down the handgun, hearing the annoyance in the person's voice, he faltered. What the hell was she doing here?
Walking to the end lane, what he saw confirmed his suspicions, "Hi Mich… something you'd like to tell me?"
Startled, Mich nearly dropped the target in her hand, "Oh, hi Lieutenant," trying to appear unconcerned – which did not fool H one bit, she realised, Mich explained how she had asked for Calleigh's help in finding a handgun for herself, to keep at home she assured him. "Only problem is, I can't choose between these two."
Asking her a few questions, H became intrigued. The targets on the table showed that Mich could shoot well – very well. "Thinking of trying out for the Olympic team?" Mich chuckled, "I was on the Police team for three years before working under cover, you have no idea how happy I was to see that I hadn't lost my touch."
"Maybe I can help you choose… Show me…" Nodding, Mich put on her ear defenders, and fired ten shots from each gun, five using the gun single handed, five with the double handed stance. H raised an eyebrow, Mich was better than he had at first realised and he pitied any one going into her house unannounced.
"So what do you think?"
H smiled, "You're great with both – what's the problem?"
Mich admitted that she liked the Glock better, but was uncomfortable using it single handed, "cause this red-headed guy put a bullet through my shoulder and messed it up a bit."
H at least had the decency to blush. "Shouldn't have told me to do it should you…" Mich chuckled and admitted that she didn't like the two handed Weaver stance. "So combine the two. Sideways stance – two hands."
Mich gave a half smile. "Like you?"
H grinned, "It works for me."
"Show me…" Taking the Glock from her, H showed Mich how he usually stood, explaining about adjusting her hand position and changing the feet position to get better balance and control. Mich listened carefully, she loved learning anything new and in this case her life might depend on it.
Taking the gun from him, Mich duplicated H's stance, though had to adjust slightly, she wasn't six feet tall after all. Firing off a couple of shots, she was happy to see they were at least an eight. She was still not completely comfortable with this position and said so, Facing her, H adjusted her grip slightly, bending her elbows a little more, the 'Brit stance' was almost straight armed.
Firing again, Mich was more accurate and getting happier, though still not 100 certain. Changing position to stand behind her, Horatio noticed that she had a tendency to lean forward. Altering the position of her feet, he used the longer reach of his arms to help her to balance out the stance.
Putting his right hand around hers on the pistol butt, and using his left hand to gently hold her left shoulder back a little, he pulled Mich into a more upright position. Firing one shot, Mich was gratified to see that it was in the 10 circle… Almost there…
"Pretend you have your back up against a brick wall and you don't want to be seen…" H continued to hold Mich as before, just to support the unfamiliar position, but the idea helped Mich to picture what she needed to do. Straightening up, Mich was able to score a bull's eye.
Completely focused on what H was telling her what to do, Mich was unaware of their close contact, but as she relaxed, she certainly felt it.
"Nice shot…" Turning her head to accept H's congratulations, she realised that her forehead was almost touching H's chin. All she would have to do was look up, and…
The moment was not lost on H either. As in the salsa bar, he could smell Mich's perfume faintly, but there they had both been angry, here was different. As she had straightened up, he had felt an attraction that he thought he had lost forever. For a moment he wanted to tighten his arms around her… but….
Mich pulled away first, she couldn't… shouldn't… wouldn't. "Thanks for your help Lieutenant, a little more practice and I'll probably take the Glock." Mich grimaced, her voice sounded cold, harsh, even to herself.
Looking up, she saw H's face soften, before resuming the mask he always wore. "Always so formal Mich? I do have a first name – which as I recall, I have asked you to use."
Mich gave a slight smile, "I have my reasons… but as you wish… Thanks Horatio."
Seeing the conflict of emotion in Mich's face, H knew there was more to the story than what Chief Superintendent Foster had told him. As she turned to leave, H caught her shoulder. "If you need to talk…"
As she looked up, H saw regret in Mich's face, followed by resolve. "Don't go there Horatio… please… I don't want to go there again – ever."
As she left, she turned slightly to wave. H smiled a goodbye, but then became thoughtful. What the hell had happened in the last few moments? He continued his practise, but could not focus. He packed up and left after only a few minutes.
