April 20th 2016, 1145, Washington, DC
The sound of automatic gunfire resounded through the DSO shooting range. The familiar bell-like sound of lead impacting steel was like music to Leon's ears. He ejected the magazine, the smell of burnt gunpowder wafting up into his nostrils. His muscles reacted without thinking, snatching the fresh magazine off the table in front of him and slamming it home into his rifle. He yanked the cocking lever back and leveled the sight with his eyes. The rifle belched fire, muffled explosions shook his chest, sending vibrations through his body. More bells sounded as his rounds landed on target.
He had been shooting for over an hour, and not by choice. Director Mansfield had ordered Leon, and he could order him because he was now a full-fledged agent again, to undergo the same training that everyone chosen to enter the DSO had gone through.
Firing a gun was like riding a bike to Leon. Before his father had passed away when he was 18, they would go hunting for deer every season since he was 12. Granted, Leon never shot anything, but he had certainly shot a lot. Cleaning, loading, firing a gun; it was all second nature to him. As such, he had turned his brain off after the first 25 minutes.
It was therapeutic, really; the sound of gunfire at a range. It was easy to tell who was a beginner and who was experienced; civilian shooters and law enforcement; nervous shooters and show offs. The muffled explosion of gunpowder, the kickback of the firearm, the satisfying sight of seeing the round go exactly where he wanted it to go, it was his calm. His zen.
His Feng Shui was broken by the sudden loud ringing of an alarm. Leon removed his finger from the trigger and placed the gun beside the empty magazines on the table. He removed his ear-plugs and draped them from the cord around his neck. He turned around, leaning against the cold, metal divider that separated his stall from the one beside him. "Is this up to your satisfaction?" He said.
Hunnigan had been watching the whole time, as had Mitch, the DSO armorer. Mitch was a younger man, square jawed and clean shaven, long blonde hair tied into a tight ponytail, and wine colored eyes. He was quite thin, with shadowy details of muscle underneath his DSO emblazoned T-shirt. He would have been tall if it wasn't for the wheelchair.
Mitch wheeled himself forward. "Shoot, Mr. Kennedy," he said, his Tennessee accent drawling on 'shoot', "I reckon you just tied with Agent Birkin. What'd you think, Hun?"
Leon frowned, his mouth going thin and his brow becoming straight. "Well if it wasn't for her…" He mumbled.
Hunnigan stepped forward, her eyes glued to her Ipad as she tapped furiously on it. "Well you certainly haven't lost your touch, Leon. And here I was thinking you were out of practice." She tilted her head slightly, a grin crossing her face.
Leon crossed his arms. "Cute." He said. He reached behind him and grasped the rifle he had just been firing. "You've changed rifles since I've been gone." He said, removing the magazine and ejecting the lone round in the chamber and catching it in his hands. "Doesn't fire like a SIG." He eyed up the bullet in his hand; it was sharp, most likely an armor piercing round.
Mitch reached up and grabbed the rifle from him, placing it on his lap and pulling the lever back a few times to make sure the chamber was clear. "We bailed on SIG Sauer a couple of months ago. They got a little too big-headed and prissy when we asked them for special, DSO custom rifles. So, we switched over to FN America and never looked back."
Leon smiled. "I always thought that SIG's dealer was a little too posh." He rubbed his shoulder and one of the corners of his mouth turned up. "Little more kick than a traditional model, took me a couple magazines to get used to it."
Mitch rolled back to his arms room, gesturing Leon to follow him. "Traditionally, a five-five-six AP round is about 52 grain give or take. I requested that our rounds be loaded 65 grain; just to give 'em that extra 'oomph'. We've had issues with penetrating some of the more recent BOW's armor."
Leon blew a breath out. "That explains it," he said, "I noticed it's pretty light on the trigger too."
Mitch nodded. "I gave you a hair trigger model." He placed it on his table and wheeled over to a cabinet. He opened the double doors and revealed a smorgasbord of firearms. Pistols, rifles, shotguns, sub-machine guns; it was clear that Mitch was from the South. He pulled out a pistol and a rifle, handing the rifle to Leon. "This is our custom rifle; the FN-15 DSO. It's got a snap-cap in the chamber; no need to worry about ear-pro."
Leon shouldered the rifle, aiming it at the wall. It was a tactical M16 design, holo-sight with offset flip-ups, angled fore-grip, and shark brake. It was lighter than the one he had fired and not just because the magazine was missing. "Why is this one lighter? Aluminum design?"
Mitch smiled. "Steel design, carbon fiber barrel and receiver."
"No shit?"
"No shit." Mitch replied. "Give the rifle a little squeeze." He indicated with his fingers, smiling. "Just a little one."
He pulled the trigger lightly, hearing the unmistakable sound of the firing pin impacting the "primer" on the plastic dummy round. "Are all the rifles hair triggers?"
"Some are, we have a selection that aren't. Now give it a stronger squeeze, like you normally do."
Leon squeezed the trigger. He heard the pin impact the round, then heard it impact several times in rapid succession. He released the trigger, lowering the weapon. He grinned at Mitch, shaking his head in amusement. "Variable trigger; that's impressive. I was wondering why there was only a safety switch and a burst fire."
Mitch smiled, taking the rifle back and handing Leon the pistol. "FN Five-Seven. I've taken the liberty of changing the sights out for high-vis ones, the slide and handgrip have been replaced with carbon fibre. No hair-trigger on this one though." His face quickly changed to a panicked expression. "But I can add one if you like."
Leon pulled the trigger on the pistol, testing the pressure. "If I like?" He repeated.
Mitch nodded. "Yup. That's your new service weapon." He smiled. "Little bit better than your H&K's, huh?"
Leon's mouth shrugged. "It'll take some getting used to. The last time I shot one of these was back in '04. It was miles ahead of my Silver Ghost though." He racked the slide back, locking it in place and catching the plastic round as it leapt into the air.
Mitch handed him a magazine. "Five-seven rounds; design specifically to penetrate low levels of body armor. You shouldn't need more than one mag inside this building, right?"
Leon smacked the magazine into the weapon and snapped the slide forward. "Provided the rest of the day goes well." He grinned, tucking the weapon into the waistband of his jeans.
Hunnigan cleared her throat. "Are you boys finished yet?"
Mitch chuckled. "Sorry, Hunny-bear. Forgot you were here with us."
Leon swore that he saw Hunnigan's skin crawl.
"I need to get Leon to the gym for his physical fitness exam." Hunnigan said, tapping on her Ipad once more. "It's time to go, Leon." She said, moving to exiting the room.
Leon huffed, almost like a little kid getting denied something.
Mitch held his hand out in a fist. "Don't worry, Agent Kennedy, I'm not goin' anywhere. Come back when you've got some time and we can talk guns."
Leon smirked. "When I got time." He bumped him, having flashbacks to his time in the ESR. He turned to Hunnigan who was standing at the door, doing her best to hide her impatience. "Lead the way, Hunny." Leon said, still grinning.
Hunnigan shot Leon a death glare; she felt her entire body shiver from the tips of her freshly painted toes to the very top of her head. "Don't, Leon." She threatened.
They both moved through the concrete firing range, Hunnigan's heels clicking on the floor, followed by Leon's boots. Leon picked up his duffel bag and dropped his newly acquired weapon inside, double checking to make sure that the safety was on.
Hunnigan couldn't help but be entranced while Leon shot; there was something incredibly attractive about a man shooting a gun. Especially if that man was Leon. She prided herself on her self-control. Not eating McDonalds for breakfast, going to bed at a reasonable hour, and not having that extra scoop of ice-cream at dinner. But she couldn't help it that the small of her back was sweating. Nor could she deny that she had both nervously and unintentionally bit her lip more times in his presence than she had in the past month.
"Hunnigan?" She heard Leon say.
She looked over at him, thankful that her skin was a darker shade. "Uh-huh?" She said aloofly. She shook her head, trying to bring herself back into reality while simultaneously brushing strands of silky smooth hair out of her face. "We'll be going back to the surface for your fitness exam."
Leon scoffed. "Do I really need to take a fitness exam? Look at me." He said, gesturing to his body. He had a point; he was in phenomenally good shape. He was a drunk, but he was a productive drunk.
Hunnigan's body tightened. "Director's orders, Leon." She replied, dodging the question like Neo from 'The Matrix'. She pressed the elevator call button and the silence between the two of them, again, was excruciating. She fiddled with her thumb and index finger, subconsciously desiring to gouge her way to the bone. Hunnigan remained focused on the LED lighting, as she had done before.
"Hunnigan?" Leon spoke, his voice startling the younger woman. Hunnigan let out a sound of inquiry. "Could you stop that? It's gonna give me an aneurysm."
Hunnigan looked down at her foot; it had been tapping so fast it would have given a woodpecker competition. "Oh, sorry." She said, taking a deep breath in and letting it out slowly.
Leon looked back at the elevator, his eyes moving to look at the same LED lights that she had been. "You're normally so calm and collected. I don't think I've ever seen you this nervous." He said, slowly looking over at her from the corner of his eye. "I would think that my handler would be able to talk to me about what's bothering her."
Hunnigan smiled half-heartedly. "My problems or personal concerns are of no worry to you, Agent Kennedy." She said. It came out harsher than she would have liked. Unfortunately, she had a habit of doing that.
Leon raised his hands in surrender, a grin crossing his lips as he turned away. "Alright then. Let's keep things professional. It's not like things are going to be super awkward between us." His voice carried a joking tone.
Hunnigan wiggled her toes inside her shoes, praying to every god known to man that the elevator would hurry. She could feel her heart pounding against her breastbone, her mouth turned into a desert.
Leon chuckled quietly. "I mean, it isn't like we've seen each other naked or anything."
Hunnigan's throat grew tight and she coughed inconveniently. "Leon." She hissed, more out of surprise than actual anger.
Leon gave a faux sheepish smile. "And it isn't like we spent hours rolling around in bed, our bodies both heaving."
Hunnigan swallowed hard; it was dry. "Leon." She breathed, trying to compose herself. It failed. She gasped both in shock and satisfaction as she felt his arms wrap around her waist. "Leon…" She trailed, biting her lip to supress whatever sound was coming next.
"You remember what my favorite part was?" His mouth was dangerously close to her ear. She could feel his lips caress her earlobe. She moaned. Hunnigan could feel him smile.
"I remember how loud you would be; you were a wild animal." He growled, nipping at her earlobe. His lips trailed down her neck, leaving electrifying kisses.
"Oh, Leon…" She moaned again, stretching her neck and giving him canvas to paint the picture of pleasure that he was so good at.
"Hunnigan," He growled, "Hunnigan." He said again, this time louder.
"Leon," She moaned, reaching up and freeing her hair from it's tight bun. "Oh, Leon."
"Hunnigan." He said again, even louder.
Hunnigan's eyes snapped open, looking around panicked. She was still in Mitch's armory. Mitch and Leon were both staring at her, juvenile grins from ear-to-ear on their faces. She quickly reached up and rubbed her neck; no marks or any evidence that Leon had been there. She instinctively fingered the bridge of her nose, mentally backhanding herself when she realized she was wearing contacts.
Mitch chuckled. "You got a little something on your face there, Hunny." He said, gesturing to the right side of his mouth.
Hunnigan reached up and wiped away a thin river of drool that had started making it's way down her jaw. She slurped, a very unladylike gesture, and composed herself. Her cheeks flushed and she rapidly went to her Ipad to try and diffuse the awkward situation. She stuttered for the right words as her hands shook with adrenaline. "I need to get Leon to his physical fitness exam. Let's go, Leon." She said, standing up and exiting the room, knowing that he would follow.
Her heels clicked like rapid-fire on the concrete floor. She drove her thumb through her shirt into her forearm, reassuring herself that she wasn't dreaming. She reached the elevator at the end of yet another long hallway and pressed the call button. She hoped that the elevator would arrive just as Leon got there so she wouldn't be forced to sit through another awkward silence that she had in her dream.
The sound of Leon's boots rapidly approaching caused her heart to beat faster. Almost as if a godsend, the elevator arrived as he stopped beside her. Without saying anything, they both stepped into the elevator. She heard Leon chuckle beside her. "What?" She asked. She hated it when Leon chuckled. Because it usually denoted that he knew something she didn't.
"Oh, Leon?" He said, smiling knowingly.
Now, Leon considered himself a tough individual, even willing to go so far and say that he was impervious to most forms of pain. But as the elevator door closed, the shot to the lower abdomen that he took from Hunnigan sent him to the floor so hard, that he thought he felt the elevator slow down.
A/N: Hey everyone. Glad to be back and unloading another chapter to you all. Not sure how I feel about this one though, would love to get some feedback on it. I know guns aren't everyone's forte, but I feel that Leon would have a pretty good appreciation for them and I felt that that was important to portray in this chapter. Anyway, everything is good on my end and I'm happy to be back writing.
See you all next week,
J.
Fun Fact: The gun that Leon uses in RE6 (his Wing Shooter) is the exact model of gun that he uses back in RE2.