.
Jordan "Thermite" Trace
Captain Souza paused for a few seconds before he blew the whistle.
On cue, five shooters wearing safety goggles and ear muffs darted across their respective 50-meter lanes at the firing range. Their goal was to reach the tables on the opposite end, where their handguns rested. Jordan, uncharacteristically fired up and eager for a challenge this afternoon, ran with the other participants like an athlete; the Devil Dog in him demanded an excellent performance today. Unfortunately, speed was never his greatest strength. To his left, Taina was leading the pack by a few milliseconds, while Eliza kept pace with her whilst running a few lanes away. This is not just a pistol competency test; it is also an impromptu contest among Rainbow's best shooters. More than half of Rainbow sat in the sidelines, eyes watching.
Eight seconds in and barely sweating, Jordan was the fourth person to reach his table. He stumbled across an unloaded M45 and a couple of 7-round magazines, just like the other tables. Wasting no time, he methodically loaded his weapon, turned around, and aimed at the dummy target down the range. He quickly adopted a 'fighting stance': head leveled, knees flexed, and body leaning forward; his posture echoed the countless training exercises he received from the Corps and the Bureau. Paying no heed to the spectators and the other runners, Jordan pulled the trigger and fired off two shots.
*BANG! BANG!*
In the distance, the humanoid target produced puffs of dust and splinters as bullets hammered its top and mid-section. Briefly impressed by his accuracy, Jordan then ran ahead to the 30-meter mark, complying with the test mechanics. Upon reaching the spot, he aimed at the dummy and double-tapped it again.
*BANG! BANG!*
He chalked up two more chest hits. At this point, all of the shooters were doing the same steps; the sound of gunfire and boots shuffling along the gravel resonated throughout the range. Not a moment too soon, Jordan reached the 10-meter mark, crouched, and repeated the process. His bloodstream was filled with adrenaline, his focus was sharper than ever.
*BANG! BANG!*
This time, his first shot only grazed the target's left ear, but his second one bored into its fiberboard head. Despite the accomplishment, Jordan quickly shook off the self-congratulations, reminding himself that the clock was ticking.
"Okay. Here we go..." He whispered to himself.
The last leg of the test called for a walk-and-shoot. Keeping cool, Jordan reloaded his weapon, stood up, and steadily approached the lifeless dummy with his pistol drawn. Behind the tinted lenses of his goggles, the former Marine zeroed in on the dummy's head and chest, emptying his gun into these spots just like Basic Training in Pendleton. And before he knew it, his weapon clicked empty. Not a moment later, Captain Souza blew the whistle again, marking the end of the test.
"Time! Actions clear! Check your weapons!"
Hearing the order, Jordan lowered his pistol, pressed the magazine release, and pulled back the slide. The weapon was now safe and unloaded. A quick breath of air escaped from his lips as he let the adrenaline in his body subside. Meanwhile, cheers and faint applause erupted from the spectating Rainbow troopers, impressed at such a wonderful display of skill from their comrades.
"Alright…" Souza spoke again in an accented drawl, "…Let us see how you all did."
Audience members and participants alike went to their respective cliques, exchanging laughs and congratulations, while the one-eyed rangemaster examined each bullet-ridden dummy with the utmost attention to detail. The old man marked each bullet hole with blue ink, then glanced to his clipboard and jotted notes. The results of the test won't be released until tonight, so the five runners can pat themselves in the back with no worries. Rather than join and chat with his fellow competitors, however, Jordan simply holstered his M45 and made his way towards Eliza. Even without removing her prized Ray-Bans, it was clear she had a wonderful time. It wouldn't be a surprise if she aced this test, just like she did in Quantico many times before.
"Hey, Liz!" Jordan greeted her with a high five. "You got this in the bag?"
Eliza caught his palm with hers, but she replied with a strange look of disappointment.
"I dunno, Trace. I think Miss Smiley-Face over there was faster than me..."
Jordan looked at where she pointed at. Just a few meters away, the Brazilian woman was grinning rather smugly with her arms crossed. Captain Souza examined her target very thoroughly, all the while conversing with her in their native tongue. Jordan and Eliza were too far away to understand what they were talking about. But judging by the number of nods from the old man, and the smiles Taina made in response, it seemed that the young woman was the best performer this afternoon. The amicable look from the other Rainbow troopers present beside her only reinforced this assumption.
Not denying that she deserves the victory, but the girl doesn't know how to 'play nice'. In a different world, she'd have tons of dudes at her beck and call, what with her body and all that. At the very least, Taina didn't wear her creepy facepaint in training today, so that's a start. Most of the guys think she's actually pretty, Jordan included, as much as he doesn't want to admit it.
"Ah, chin up." he tried to lift Eliza's spirits, "Wait for the scores. Maybe your streak is still intact."
Second place obviously doesn't sit well with her, especially when she's in the mood to compete and give her best effort this afternoon. She'd be fine if it was someone like Tim, Monika, or any of the 'older' guys who bested her. But the frigging new girl?
"I never lose." the Israeli woman spat back, "*sigh* I'll be so damn pissed if..."
Her partner shook his head and held back a chuckle.
"Come on. I'll cheer you up."
Jordan then led her to one of the benches at the shooting range, and proceeded to where Jack and Miles spectated from. The two men didn't leave their spot, and instead they were having a rather cheerful discussion beside a cooler. Jordan was impressed that they brought his pet-project to the range today, and so he motioned to them by waving his hand. The bald man with the shades was the first to notice the two shooters approach.
"You and Liz had fun?", he called.
"Not as fun as what you got over there, Jack."
"Say no more." Miles cut in, "Order for two, comin' right up."
The dark-skinned man opened the cooler and brought out two beer cans. The smooth metal shells were covered with cold beads of water, as if they were fresh from the fridge. Miles then tossed the cans to his customers, with Eliza catching hers with two hands. A better look at the beverage caused her to smile; she was just handed her favorite brand, straight from her homeland no less.
"Wow, where the hell did you get this?" she asked.
"You can thank Sergeant Porter for that." Miles replied, as he brought out a can for himself, "Not easy to find, by the way. He had to ask for a bigger cut than usual."
Curious, Eliza peered into the cooler and found it filled with an almost-soupy, weird-smelling concoction of cold water, with other beer cans buried beneath the mixture. The display of wayward chemistry in action intrigued her more than the fact that James actually runs a 'procurement' operation at the SAS base.
"Gotta love chemistry, huh?" she commented.
To see her grin like a buffoon was enough to make Jordan happy as well. And now for the kicker.
"I used dry ice and acetone on this one, actually." he explained, "I wanted to see if I can instantly drop the temperature to minus 60 degrees Celsius before-"
"W-wait, acetone?!" the woman exclaimed, "Are you trying to poison me?!"
"Relax, lady..." Jordan raised his hands in defense, "I was extra careful. No aftertastes, I promise!"
With a hesitant look on her face, Eliza popped the top of her beer. A fizz of air escaped from the hole, no doubt caused by the pressure built from the deathly-cold temperatures inside the cooler. Putting the tip of the can on her lips, she expected to be met with a plastic-y flavor that would only come from Jordan's copious handiwork with chemicals. To her surprise, she tasted nothing special, save from the warm, refreshing fruity tang of malt and fermented berries that she always loved in Jerusalem and anywhere else.
Amused at her reaction, the other Americans followed suit, opening their cans and gulping down. True to the chemist's word, no other flavor was registered in their palates except from the familiar taste of home. Jordan felt a great sense of pride, knowing that his Bachelor of Science can still be used to help put a smile in other people's faces, rather than melt them off.
"Takes your mind off of training, doesn't it?" Miles asked Eliza.
"Mmhmm." she mumbled, as her mouth was preoccupied.
For a moment, the four of them felt like they were back in California, enjoying a afternoon chug of beer after a couple of rounds at the FBI firing range in San Diego. It didn't take long to remind themselves that it has already been a six months since they left the United States. The homesickness is definitely there, no matter how faint. And the Israeli woman has it worse, since she has not returned her hometown in years. Time spent with friends and family were instead dedicated to combat and combat training, but that rings true to many of fine men and women they're working with right now.
The silence was the perfect segway Jordan needed to change the topic.
"I don't understand why Six wants another test." He said, while leaving his can half full. "I'm fine with running and shooting, but I think there's more to this than the Cap'n has been letting on."
Everyone in the group agreed with him. Normally, Baker, or in this case Captain Souza, would just schedule a practice session at the firing range and the troopers only have to worry about getting their aim and timing right. This afternoon was different, since it added elements of speed, precision, and endurance that are typical of an Olympic competition. Whatever it is that Rainbow was suddenly asked to train for, it's likely serious.
"My guess is that Six is planning to send some of us stateside." Jack spoke. "If that's true, then she's looking for top shooters she can spare to the other team..."
"You seriously believe that she's gonna split us up?" Miles asked.
"Come on. You all heard Baker this morning, right?" the bald man continued. "If the White House believes an attack on US soil is imminent, then we're definitely shipping out to stop it. But we can't leave Europe behind either."
Jordan didn't know what to say. He never really bothered with the politics involved in police and counter-terrorism work, so he can neither agree nor disagree with the Deputy Director's decision. On one hand, it certainly makes sense for Rainbow to divide its manpower to fight in two fronts. But on the other hand, that also means that the team can no longer bring all of its guns to bear. If something big goes down, either in Europe or in the US, Rainbow will have to rely on local military and law enforcement to back them up on the scene. And if Fallujah taught Jordan anything, this arrangement rarely works out smoothly for all parties involved.
"Well shit..." Eliza muttered.
"I also bet we will be going to Fort Bragg." Jack added. "Good location, and it also has tons of hardware Rainbow could borrow: J-SOC, SAR birds, C-130s... "
The group took the military brat's word for it. It was quite ironic, since the man with actual military experience has relatively little to share about the subject of American military installations. And even then, his opinion is a tad biased. Call it Devil Dog Pride, but Jordan would rather be stationed at Lejune or Pendleton.
"Fort Bragg? *snorts* Oh boy..."
"Aww, what's the matter?" Eliza joked. "The Leatherneck is scared to sleep at an Army base?"
"What? I've never been there before, that's all." he defended.
The woman chuckled, just as she was about to take another gulp. She has a point there, though. The former Marine was getting anxious simply because Rainbow is about to venture into unknown territory. This will be the first time half of the taskforce will be stationed elsewhere. True, there's the chance he'll be able to visit his folks in Texas for a week. But then there's also the possibility of being separated from his friends. In the end, his worries are a moot point, at least until the roster is shuffled and the arrangements are made. And even then, Jordan will have no choice but to follow Six's orders, whatever they may be. They're likely to be the usual: training exercises, drills, weapons proficiency tests, and so on.
"Man, I'm gonna miss England if I get the draft pick..."
"Careful, brother. I think your grandpa just rolled in his grave." Miles laughed, playing up his friend's Irish ancestry.
"Well, I'm happy no matter how it goes down..." their female friend commented, "...as long as Skull Girl isn't joining us."
Once again, she turned to Taina's direction with a jealous look in her eyes. The BOPE officer was still talking to Captain Souza, presumably about her performance this afternoon. Jordan wanted to tell his lady friend that her rivalry with the new girl is ultimately one-sided, but where's the fun in that? Besides, she should know better than to get in the face of a potential sociopath.
As the friends finished their drinks, they heard Souza blow his whistle again.
"Second Group! Get to your starting positions!"
One by one, a new batch of five entered the range: Craig, Monika, Tim, Emma, and Markie. Like their predecessors, the shooters donned ear muffs and tinted safety goggles as they prepared themselves for what's about to come in the next 30 seconds. It was time for the previous participants to sit and spectate. Without saying anything, Miles brought out another batch of cans for the four of them to share.
"Check it out, Liz." Jordan spoke. "This should be good..."
"Yeah..."
They know that this might be the last time their little group will be sitting together, leisurely. They'd rather not make this a somber moment.
Author's Notes/Comments: The 'beer portion' of this chapter was inspired by an old blog post about "quick and easy" ways to chill beverages. The dry ice/acetone method intrigued me and I thought it was something Thermite might be able to pull off. Please don't try this at home, as I don't even know if it is possible/safe/practical. In other news, Fuze is going to have to wait for a while because Thermite's chapter gave me a eureka moment for that Blitz x IQ oneshot some readers have been asking for. Stay tuned for it!