Chapter 10: The Shootist
"A good shot must necessarily be a good man, since the essence of good marksmanship is self-control, and self-control is the essential quality of a good man."
-Theodore Roosevelt
"Chief!"
"Yes sir?"
"Get this aircraft armed. Now."
The burly mechanic gave the Major a worried look as he clambered down the ladder from the Avenger's cockpit, completely ignoring the woman who was still struggling to undo her harness in the back seat. The pilot's tone made it clear that he had unfinished business with the Angel.
Misato could hardly blame him. The thing had tried to kill them, and had likely wiped out dozens of civilians in doing so. The explosion sent thousands of tonnes of flaming debris crashing into the valley below, and onto the homes of any residents who hadn't yet evacuated.
Still, she figured as she finally got the damned harness loose, it could have been a lot worse. Her order to belay unit-01's launch had been received just in the nick of time, and Shinji was safe for the moment. As Ritsuko would later mention to her, if that beam had hit the Eva, the boy likely would have been boiled alive in the entry plug in a matter of seconds.
Standing up in the cramped cockpit, Misato found that her legs were made of jelly, and it took a moment before she was steady enough to step out onto the fuselage to begin making her way to the ladder. Looking down, she saw the Major engaged in a fierce argument with the chief mechanic.
"I'm sorry sir, but I didn't like the sound coming from engine two. Seems likely it might have sucked up some debris from the explosion, and I can't clear this aircraft to fly again until we can take it apart to check it," the chief stated, crossing his arms in defiance as the foreigner took a step closer to tower over him.
"Is that so?" The Major said menacingly. "That engine sounded just fine to me. If there was something wrong with it, don't you think I would have bloody well noticed it while I was flying the damn thing?"
The chief was unmoved by the pilot's raised voice. "Look, sir, I just need a couple hours-"
"No, you look you little son of a..." The Major stopped short of insulting his subordinate, but seemed to be increasingly gripped by a cold fury that Misato hoped was never directed her way. "I'm going to fucking kill that thing if it's the last thing I do, and if you don't have this aircraft armed and airworthy in the next fifteen minutes, I swear to god I'll..."
"Major!" Misato cut him off as she steeped off the ladder and onto the blissfully solid ground. She was shocked at the sudden display of anger. She could understand his hatred towards NERV's senior officers, but she'd never seen him be anything but pleasant towards members of the lower ranks.
She quickly strode over to the pair of men, stepping between them and turning to face the irate foreigner. "What's the matter with you? The chief's just doing his job." She felt the urge to back away when those furious grey eyes locked onto her, but mustered the courage to stand her ground, deciding it was in everyone's best interest if she tried to talk some sense into him.
"Now listen here, Captain Ahab," she said diplomatically, reaching up to gingerly lay a hand on the man's shoulder. "I know you think you're responsible for what just happened, but we would have found out about... whatever that was one way or the other, right?"
"...I suppose."
"Okay. Let's think about this for a moment. Now we know what we're dealing with, and all of our combat assets are still intact thanks to you. I mean, if you hadn't acted when you did, we'd both be dead now and it's likely that Shinji would be as well."
"Hm." He grunted a reply, seemingly too angry to form a coherent sentence.
"You attacking that thing on your own would be pointless and suicidal, and you know it." Misato could hear the Chief slowly backing away behind her, while the anger in the Major's eyes faltered slightly as she continued. "You're no good to me dead, at least for the time being, so why don't you come back to headquarters with me. We'll get everyone together so we can figure out a proper battle plan knowing what we know now, alright?"
Working his jaw for a moment, the man finally let out a heavy sigh and seemed to deflate a bit, silently nodding his assent.
"Good." She gave a small sigh of relief, belatedly remembering to remove her helmet. She had to stifle a groan at the state of her hair as he caught a glimpse of her reflection in the Avenger's silver skin, but quickly decided there were more pressing matters at hand.
Seizing the advantage as any good tactician should, she began to make for their vehicles, beckoning the Major to follow.
"Excellent!"
Katsuragi clapped her hands together, signalling that her decision was final. "We have a plan!" She proclaimed to her staff assembled in the cramped boardroom.
Calling it a plan was a stretch, Bishop mused to himself as he took a deep drag from the cigarette he'd bummed off the blonde scientist seated next to him. More like a ludicrous fantasy that had about as much chance of success as he had of becoming president of the United States, but he bit his tongue, not wanting to rob the assembly of the glimmer of hope they so desperately needed.
It was the first smoke he'd had in over a decade, having given them up on the flight surgeon's orders shortly after the war. He'd picked up the habit in the infantry like many a boy of his generation, and a few years of enduring the stresses of combat flying had him huffing two packs a day of the damn things. The hell with lung cancer, it was looking increasingly unlikely that he was ever going to live long enough for that become a concern, and it was the only way he could calm himself down enough to pay attention after today's narrow brush with death.
He couldn't make heads or tails of it; he'd cooled down and wasn't seeing red the way he was back at camp Fuji, but he just couldn't seem to slow his heart rate or quiet his anxious mind the way he normally could after a fight. Casting a glance up at the ceiling, he supposed it could be sensation of being under siege, that familiar and terrible helplessness he'd felt the first time he saw the B-52s appear overhead. More likely, though, it was because it wasn't just himself he'd nearly gotten killed this time. Katsuragi nearly bought it right alongside him on account of his careless flying, and that thought was sending him into a mental tailspin of guilt and anger.
Making it worse was the fact that Katsuragi herself seemed completely unaffected by the incident. Aside from a bad case of helmet hair, there was no evidence in the woman's appearance or demeanour to indicate what she had been through barely an hour ago.
"Continue to Monitor the situation, everyone, and let me know if there are any changes," she said calmly. "I'll be right here, trying to figure out a way to get our hands on that positron rifle." She flashed a confident grin around the room as her cadre answered with a smattering of 'yes ma'ams' and stood to return to their stations.
Feeling decidedly useless, having been informed that God's arrow fell a fair way's short of delivering the energy needed to punch through this particular Angel's AT field, Bishop crushed out his cigarette in the ashtray on the table in front of his neighbour.
"Thanks for the dart doc," he said casually to her as she stood to leave. "I owe you one."
She looked down at him, trying to browbeat him with a glare, but was unable to keep a tiny smile from crossing her thin lips. "...You're welcome, Major. And it's Doctor Akagi to you. I didn't earn two PhDs to be called doc by the common soldiery." Turning her nose up at him, she strode out of the room with out another word as the pilot sat with an amused grin on his face. If he didn't know better, he would have thought he detected a note of flirtatiousness amid the scolding.
Common soldiery, eh? Probably one of the nicer things I've been called. With a chuckle, he stood as well, figuring he'd head down to the weapons department to offer whatever assistance he could provide to Takao and his staff. They would no doubt be frantically busy in the coming hours as they prepared modify a prototype weapon that may or may not exist for use by the Eva.
"Whaddya think, Major?" Katsuragi asked without looking up from her laptop as he made his way past her towards the doorway.
"About what?" he stopped and looked down at her with a raised eyebrow.
"This whole plan. Any input to offer?" She swiveled in her chair and looked up at him causally, as though they hadn't just narrowly escaped the teeth of death together.
He snorted in amusement. "Well, it's just about the most absurd thing I've ever heard of, but I don't have any better ideas if that's what you're asking."
"...So you don't think it'll work."
"That's not what I said," he said defensively, leaning against the wall. "But it seems like you're relying on an awful lot of things to go perfectly according to plan. Ever heard of Murphy's law?" She shook her head. "Well, it states that anything that can go wrong will go wrong. When we were learning how to plan missions in flight school, one of the first things they taught us is to always treat Murphy's law as a certainty, especially in combat conditions."
"Hm." She grunted a response and rested her chin on her hand, lost in thought. "Give me an example."
"Of what?"
"Of what you think could go wrong."
Where to start? "Well, for one thing," he said with a grimace, "You're putting a whole lot of faith in that kid's shooting..."
She raised an eyebrow at him. "How do you figure? The Eva's targeting system should do all the work, all he has to do is pull the trigger."
"You, see, that's exactly what I'm talking about. You're betting everything on that targeting system functioning properly. What if it doesn't?" He asked pointedly. "...Do you trust Shinji to take the shot without it?"
"I... I don't know."
"I sure as hell wouldn't from what I've seen. I assume he had the same targeting system in the last battle, and I'd still say he landed less than half his rounds on target. No trigger discipline, no muzzle control... How much training has he had?"
She sighed heavily. "No more than a couple weeks total, now that I think about it. The Angels haven't left us much choice."
"Jesus..." he said softly. "I was just a poor bloody grunt, but I still had a lot more training than that before I was sent into combat."
Seeing he had given her something to think about when there was no response, he pushed away from the wall and headed for the door.
"That's it? That's all you've got to say about it?" Katsuragi's accusatory voice stopped him just before he was home free.
"What're you asking me for, anyways?" he replied over his shoulder, "You know better than I do about all this stuff."
She shrugged and flashed a small smile up at him. "Well, you're a stubborn, arrogant, hot-headed jackass, but you're no fool."
"I take exception to that!" he turned with a wounded expression, putting a hand on his chest. "...If I weren't a fool, I'd be settled down with some pretty young thing back home, blissfully ignorant of all this nonsense." He gestured wildly, trying to somehow encapsulate everything he'd seem and done here in the past few weeks.
"Nevertheless," Katsuragi pressed in spite of his bitter sarcasm, "We're still fighting a war here, the same basic principles apply as they always have. You've seen my staff, you were fighting while most of them were in grade school. So yes, believe it or not, I do value your advice."
"Then why the hell did you argue with me when I wanted fall back to base?" He snapped at her, unable to contain a sudden flash of anger. "I mean, Jesus Katsuragi, do you have any idea how close we came to being mincemeat?"
He checked himself when she saw a twinge of hurt in her eyes, but continued to fix her with a stern glare. "Look, It wouldn't matter if it were just me. Hell, I've been ready die for half my life, and nobody'd miss me if I did, but for Christ's sake you've got this entire organization counting on you, not to mention having a kid to take care of."
She remained infuriatingly calm in face of his scolding, reaching up to lay a hand on his arm. "You were right," she said gently. "And I'm sorry. I should have listened."
With a heavy sigh, he brushed her off. "No, It's not your fault," he said wearily. "I was the pilot in command, and It was my responsibility to keep you safe. I uh, I should have known better." He stared down at his shoes. Admitting he was wrong had never come easy to him.
"Meh, we'll call it even." Katsuragi waved a hand, eager to change the subject, "...Anyways, you think Shinji needs more training, huh?" She nodded slowly. "I don't disagree, but what can we do now? We've only got about nine hours to work with..."
"So stick him in the damn robot, give him the gun, and let him do some target practice for a few hours. What's the issue?"
"Well for starters, we don't have the gun yet, and I'm guessing it'll take hours of work to modify it when we do." There was a ping from her laptop, and she read the message that popped on the screen with a deepening frown. "Looks like Ritsuko's going to need to keep unit one in the cage for most of the day as well, they need to reconfigure the system to work with the new weapon..."
Katsuragi abruptly paused and looked up at him, her expression morphing into a devious grin. He knew her well enough by now to take a wild guess at what that meant. She had an idea, and much to his alarm, it seemed to involve him in some way.
"...Oh no."
"Oh yes."
Shinji's mind was in turmoil.
Leaning against the rail of the catwalk that overlooked unit-01's cage, he mentally grappled with just how close he had apparently come to oblivion today, and with the immense pressure that miss Misato's new plan would place on him.
He had one shot.
If he screwed it up, which if he was honest with himself, he was prone to doing, then there would be no second chance. Worst of all, perhaps, he had the entire day to fret over it. The operation would begin at midnight that night, but in the intervening hours there would be really nothing for him to do but think over and over again about everything that go wrong. NERV had become a beehive of activity as everyone else set about the immense amount of preparation that needed to be done, and he looked on feeling utterly useless as the mechanics and technicians swarmed over unit-01's immense from.
He heard footsteps on the catwalk behind him, but assumed it was just another tech going about their business and didn't bother to see who it was. It was much to his surprise then, when the footsteps abruptly stopped beside him, and the railing gave a groan as someone much bigger than him leaned against it.
"Goddamn if that thing isn't impressive up close." The Major's amiable voice interrupted his troubled thoughts as the man looked out at the sights in the Eva cage, before turning to look down at Shinji. "How you holdin' up kid?"
"N-not so good."
The man chuckled at that. "Yeah, welcome to the club."
Shinji was not amused, giving his elder an annoyed glance. The Major seemed to take the hint, casting his eyes back out over the activity in the massive space before them and continuing in a more serious tone.
"I take it you've been briefed on what's going to happen tonight?"
"Yes..."
"You know what's expected of you?"
"I-I think so."
"Hm." The Major thought for a moment, before abruptly going off on what Shinji assumed was an unrelated tangent. "You ever fired a gun before?"
"W-what?" The seemingly random question caught the boy off guard, and he turned to look up at the pilot's dead serious face.
"Yes or no?"
"N-no, of course not!"
"Would you like to?"
"Not really..." Shinji answered, looking suspiciously up at the Major
"Well," the man said, cracking a sardonic smile, "Welcome to the life of a soldier, kid, because you don't get a say and neither do I. Come with me."
With that, the Major turned on his heel and motioned for Shinji to follow him. The boy was still suspicious, but he supposed whatever the Major had in mind couldn't be any worse than lounging around here all day while his anxiety slowly drove him insane. Hesitating only for a moment, he pushed off against the railing and hurried after the pilot as he strode purposefully out of the cage and into the adjacent maze of corridors.
Despite what he'd recently learned of the man, Shinji oddly still felt an implicit trust in him. He hadn't deliberately tried to hide anything from him, which was more than could be said for any other adult in the boy's life. He supposed it might have something to do with the uniform as well; like any young person in Japan, he'd had it drilled into him since childhood that authority figures such as military or police officers were to be trusted and obeyed without question. Although, parents were also supposed to be respected and revered according to everything he'd ever been taught, and there was no one on earth he had less faith in than his own father.
"So, uh, where are we going?"
The Major cast a glance down at the boy as he struggled to keep pace with his long stride, before finally deciding to enlighten him. "The powers that be have ordered me to give you some practical instruction in the art of marksmanship in preparation for tonight's operation, so we're going to see the security people to ask nicely if we can borrow a gun and use their range," he said matter-of-factly.
"...The powers that be?"
"Katsuragi."
"Oh. Um, I hope you don't mind me asking sir, but... why?" Shinji asked apprehensively.
The Major just shook his head with a small smile. "Ours not to make reply, ours not to reason why, ours but to do or die." He mused to himself softly in English.
"What does that mean?" A thoroughly confused Shinji asked his tall companion.
"Nothing, kid. Just a bit of old poetry that popped into my head." He stepped in front of Shinji to allow a pair of techs to hurry past them in the narrow corridor, before continuing at a more leisurely pace so Shinji could keep up and listen. "Anyways, Katsuragi seemed to have gotten the idea in her head that you need to learn how to shoot."
"I-I know how to shoot, at least I think so..."
That seemed to thoroughly amuse the Major. "Didn't you just tell me that you never fired a gun?" he asked with a raised eyebrow.
"Well, not outside of the Eva, but I-I get the general idea. Point it at the enemy and pull the trigger, that's all miss Ritsuko told me I needed to do."
"Yeah, and how did that work out for you last time?" The Major asked dryly, continuing when Shinji had no reply. "There's a bit more to marksmanship that, believe it or not. This time around, you've only got one shot, and you've got to take it from a much longer range. No spraying and praying. Now, proper shooting involves all kinds of techniques, but it all boils down to controlling your breathing, keeping yourself calm, and holding the weapon steady."
"Okay..." Shinji still wasn't sure what all this had to do with him.
"And as it was explained to me, the Eva responds to your neural inputs, right?"
"Y-yeah, I think."
"So if you know how to keep yourself steady when you go to take the shot, the Eva will be too, which will make it more accurate and therefore increase the chances of a good hit. Or so Katsuragi tells me anyways." The Major gave an indifferent shrug. "And even if it doesn't, there are worse ways to spend an afternoon than at the range."
"B-but, well, why you?"
"Whaddya mean 'why me'? You got a problem with me?"
Shinji was terrified for a moment that he may have offended this dangerous man. "Oh! N-no sir, that's not what I meant, I just-"
"Relax, kid. I know what you meant." The Major cut him off with a chuckle as the pair passed into a large main corridor swarming with NERV personnel. "As you can see, every one else here is a little busy at the moment." They had to squeeze against the wall of the wide hallway to allow a cadre of scientists to push their way through, emphasizing the Major's point as he continued. "...And I happen to know a thing or two about shooting. More than any of these eggheads I can assure you. I carried a rifle off to war, and I'm still alive today because I bloody well knew how to use it."
With a passive nod, Shinji followed the man in silence, knowing full well what the Major was alluding to with that last remark. He'd had to kill or be killed, just like Shinji had to do with the Angels. But the Angels weren't human beings...
After several unpleasant minutes of shouldering their way through the crowd, they came to a junction where the main thoroughfare split off into several smaller corridors. The pilot pulled a map from a pocket of his flight suit and consulted it for a moment, before selecting one and motioning for Shinji to follow. Now in quieter environs, Shinji mustered up the courage to ask about something that had been bothering him ever since Kensuke showed him that picture.
"Uh, Major, can I ask you something?"
"Of course you can. What's on your mind?"
"Well it's just, uh, y-you know..."
"No, I don't know. Spit it out."
"You killed people, right? A-a lot of people?" Shinji blurted it out before he could stop himself, and he felt an immediate shift in the Major's demeanour.
"Yeah." He answered after a moment's silence. His voice was low, the easy confidence of a moment ago gone. "I killed people. A lot of them." Shinji detected a note of deep regret in the man's voice. "...Does that bother you?"
"W-well..." Shinji thought about lying, but the Major looked down at him with a steady gaze that brought the truth out of him whether he liked it or not. "...Yeah."
"It should. It sure as hell bothers me." The Major said bluntly, shifting his eyes forward again. "It's a terrible thing to take a person's life."
"Then why did you paint that... thing on the side of your airplane. I-I saw a picture of it in a book. It just seemed like... like you were proud of how many people you'd killed."
"I wasn't proud, kid. I was angry." The Major gave a heavy sigh. "I lost my entire family in a bombing raid, that's why I transferred to the air force in the first place. I wanted revenge."
"O-oh." Shinji supposed if he actually had someone he cared about, he'd be angry if he lost them as well.
"I wanted them to be afraid." The Major continued in a choked voice. "... I wanted them to know that I was coming for them. I wanted their families to feel what I felt." The man had his hands in his pockets with his eyes fixed on the ground in front of him. "I lost sight of why I felt I needed to fight in the first place. I made a war between countries into my own personal vendetta, and it turned me into something very ugly, something I'm ashamed of now when I look back."
He paused for a second to collect himself, seeming to regain some composure. "Don't get me wrong, I'm damn proud of the fact that we took on the biggest military in the world and fought it to a standstill, and I don't regret being a part of that fight, but it's the reason I was fighting that makes me ashamed. I'm ashamed of the pleasure I felt every time I sent a plane down in flames. I didn't care that I was saving lives on the ground with every bomber I stopped getting through, I just wanted to make them suffer, even though I knew deep down that they were just guys like me."
With that, the Major abruptly stopped walking, turning to face Shinji. "So there it is. Think of me what you will, but just know that I'm not that person anymore, or at least I'm trying not to be." He gave Shinji a lopsided smile, but there was no happiness in it. "Now, let me ask you something, kid. You've decided to stay and fight. Tell me why."
Shinji was taken aback. He hadn't expected the Major to turn it around on him like that, and he had to think for a moment before answering. "Well... I guess, it's because of what you said to me that day. I-I know deep down that it's the right thing to do."
"Yes, but why? Why is it the right thing to do?" The Major pressed him.
"B-because I need to protect people who can't protect themselves. I-I don't want anyone to get hurt if I can do anything to stop it." Shinji wasn't entirely convinced of his answer, the Major nodded his approval nonetheless.
"Good. Hold onto that." The Major knelt down to look Shinji directly in the eyes. "Sometimes, the people we're trying to protect end up getting hurt or killed anyways, and there's not a damn thing we can do to change that. That's the reality of war, kid, of being a soldier, and it can turn you into... well, into me if you let it. But you can't let it, because life will go on afterwards, and years from now you're gonna look back and wonder what it was all for, and if you don't have a good answer for that... Well, just promise me that you will, alright?"
He nodded slightly. "Y-yes sir. I promise." He mumbled, dropping his gaze to the floor. He could hear the sincerity in the man's voice, and wished he had never asked the accusatory question, even if he had gotten a nugget of wisdom out of it.
The Major cracked a half-smile. "Attaboy." He said warmly, clapping Shinji on the shoulder as he stood and made to continue on. That simple gesture was enough to win Shinji over.
"Now, let's go find ourselves a gun."
The armourer looked down at the order in his hand, going over it once again before returning his hard gaze to the odd duo that stood in front of his desk.
"...And you're sure Captain Katsuragi said this would be okay?" The grizzled man eyed Bishop critically as he shrugged in response.
"Hey pal, she put the order in my hand herself, and that's her signature at the bottom there. She's your boss too, so are you gonna help us out or do I need to give her a call?"
Continuing to eye him for a moment more, the man begrudgingly returned the order to the pilot's hand. NERV's uniformed security forces thankfully fell under the umbrella of the operations department, meaning their resources such as the armoury and a target range that was apparently out in the geofront forest somewhere were at his disposal. Section 2 probably had better toys to play with, but he didn't fancy his chances of getting anything from them, no matter how nicely he asked.
As the armourer stood from his desk, Bishop could immediately tell from his stiff gait that he had an artificial leg. He hobbled over to the reinforced door a few meters behind the desk, motioning for the pilot and his young charge to follow him as he punched a code into the keypad on the wall beside it. He was no doubt a veteran, and Bishop figured there were probably plenty of ex-soldiers among NERV's lower ranks, which left him questioning why Katsuragi had tapped him in particular for this job. Sure, he was a good shot, but no better than most whose lives had depended on their ability with a rifle.
The steel door slid open, and the pair followed the attendant through into the large space beyond. The walls of the room were bare metal, and it was lit by a series of harsh florescent lights. The space was filled with racks upon racks of the various weapons one would expect a police force to wield: Handguns, tasers, submachine guns, and shotguns.
"See anything you fancy?" The armourer said over his shoulder as he led the pair through the rows of weapon racks.
"Not really..." Bishop was after something with a bit more range. "You got anything that's good past fifty yards?"
The hobbling man snorted in amusement. "What do you think this is, the army? We're just security guards here, Major. We aren't really expected to do any serious fighting." As they reached the end of the row, the armourer made his way over to a nearby workbench, picking up a clipboard from it and beginning to scribble absently. "Well, go have a look around, see if you find anything. Give me a holler if you do." The man said without looking up at Bishop.
"Right, thanks." The pilot nodded and set off down the rows, Shinji following at his heels. This may not have been the army, but there was enough hardware here that one might have been forgiven for thinking it was.
"So, uh, what's wrong with these?" the boy asked, gesturing to a rack of MP5 submachine guns as they passed them.
Bishop picked one up and examined it. "Nothing at all," he said as he worked the bolt and looked down the sights, "But you need to learn to shoot accurately at range, that's not really what these are for. These are for close quarters work, clearing rooms and such." Boy, how he wished he'd had something like this back in Ottawa, but they were usually reserved for the special ops types. "No, we need a proper rifle," he stated as he laid the weapon back in its place.
After a few more minutes of fruitless searching, the pair came to the far wall of the armoury, where they found an ancient looking wooden crate that stood out like a sore thumb from its sleek, modern surroundings. The lid was ajar, and with his curiosity piqued Bishop lifted it to examine its contents. His eyebrows shot up in surprise, and he experienced an unwelcome rush of déjà vu as he saw what was inside.
It was full of old rifles. FN FALs to be precise. He knew these weapons well; It was a C1A1, the Canadian built version, that his country had placed in his hands when it told him to go kill the invader all those years ago. It had been replaced as the army's standard service rifle back in the '80s by the newer M16 pattern rifles, but the armed forces expanded so quickly in the wake of second impact that there weren't enough of the new weapons to go around. Freshly raised units were thus often equipped with old rifles pulled from storage. Though heavy and unwieldy compared the newer assault rifles, and certainly not ideal for urban combat, they were still tough and reliable weapons which were well-loved for their accuracy and stopping power.
"Hey buddy, what's the story on these?" Bishop called out across the room. He heard the armourer's uneven steps as he hobbled across the floor towards them, appearing a moment later from behind the nearest row of weapon racks.
"Oh yeah, those old things!" He chuckled as he saw the open crate. "Yeah, a few years back some African country couldn't pay their NERV dues, so they donated a bunch of old military hardware instead, including crate of these relics. Guess nobody told them what it is we do here. Anyways, they've just been sitting here ever since, none of our guys want to carry em' on account of how heavy the damn things are."
Bishop nodded slowly as he lifted one of the ancient weapons from the crate and examined it. It was slightly different than the Canadian model, with plastic instead of wood furniture, painted with an ugly yellow and green camouflage pattern. The rear sight and charging handle were different as well, and its construction was overall more crude than the finely made Canadian rifles. It was well worn, no doubt a veteran of some African bush war, but seemed to be in serviceable condition. He locked open the bolt and inspected the chamber, verifying that it was unloaded and noting that the action felt smooth and well-oiled, before placing the butt on the ground and looking down the barrel to ensure that it was clear.
There was no reason it wasn't safe to fire, and if there was any rifle he could teach the kid to shoot, it was this one. Nodding again, he turned to the attendant. "Got any 7.62 NATO?" he asked.
"Plenty."
"Perfect." He pulled the charging handle back and let it slam forward, before handing it to Shinji. "Alright kid, go ahead and inspect that rifle like you just saw me do. You should always make sure a gun is safe to fire before ammunition comes anywhere near it."
"Oh, uh, okay..." The boy hesitated for a moment, looking down at the rifle in his hands that was about two thirds as long as he was tall, before placing the butt on the ground and looking down the barrel, much to the alarm and amusement of the two adults present.
"Whoa!" Bishop exclaimed as he and the armourer both instinctively reached for the rifle's barrel to tilt it away from the boy's face. "...I see we need to go over some basic gun safety. You don't check the barrel until after you've made damn sure it isn't loaded. I know I just cleared it, but it's still a good habit to get into." He put the rifle back in the boy's hands and showed him how to hold it properly. "Now, grab that handle on the side and pull it back until you feel it lock open."
"Oh god, sorry!" The boy stammered out an apology as he followed Bishop's commands.
"Don't sweat it kid, it's not your fault nobody's taken the time to teach you this stuff." He waved a hand as he continued. "Now that you've got the bolt open, look into the chamber and the magazine. Do you see any rounds in there?"
"No..."
"Good, that mean's the gun's empty. Now you can check the bore, leave the bolt open." He waited as the boy again put the rifle's butt on the ground and peered down the barrel. "Can you see any light at the other end?" The Major asked of his young charge.
"Uh, yes, just barely." The boy answered after a moment.
"That's fine, all you're checking for is that there aren't any obstructions. If you try to shoot through a clogged barrel, you could blow up the gun."
"You should listen to him, young man." The old armourer nodded sagely, bending down towards Shinji and pointing a finger towards a series of scars around his right eye. "You see these? That's from a rifle that blew up in my face because there was a chunk of mud stuck in the barrel. I was damn lucky I didn't lose the eye."
"How about the leg?" Bishop inquired, finally finding an opening to ask about it.
The man gave a hearty laugh, knocking on the wooden leg with his fist. "Fool that I am, I went and kicked a landmine in Korea. Suppose I can be grateful I've still got the one leg, a lot of my pals weren't so lucky."
"Ah." Bishop nodded knowingly. He'd had a few close calls himself, and witnessed more than a few limbs blown away by the fiendish weapons. The eastern countryside back home was still littered with the damn things, and despite years of mine clearing operations, the occasional story still popped up in the papers about some unlucky farmer getting blown to kingdom come.
"Anyways, you mind if we borrow the rifle for the afternoon?" Bishop asked as the armourer showed Shinji how to sling the ungainly weapon over his shoulder.
The old veteran shook his head. "Take the whole crate for all I care, I got no use for 'em. I'll go grab you some ammo." As the man headed towards a locked cabinet nearby, Bishop detached the magazines from several rifles in the crate and put them in the various pockets of his flight suit to use as spares. After pondering it for a moment, he also selected one of the rifles for himself, inspecting it and slinging it over his shoulder. It'd been while since he'd fired anything, and he figured he could use some brushing up as well.
The armourer returned a minute later and handed off a heavy ammunition can to Bishop. "Here you go sir. Five hundred cartridges, calibre 7.62 by 51 millimetre, ball M80. American surplus." He read off the yellow letters stamped on the olive drab metal.
"Well, that ought to keep us busy for a while, thanks." The pilot nodded his appreciation, though didn't look forward to the prospect of having to heft this damn thing all the way out the range. And speaking of which...
"Say, I've been told you guys have a rifle range we can use. You wouldn't happen to uh, know where it is would you?" Bishop asked non-nonchalantly. Katsuragi had left out that particular tidbit of information when she was hurriedly rattling off her orders to him.
"Sure, its out in the geofront. Fifteen minute hike from the central complex, just get on the trail at the main junction..." The armourer trailed off when he saw the utterly bemused look on the pilot's face.
"...I'll draw you up a map."
The unlikely pair drew a number of curious and alarmed glances as they made their way up to the geofront surface through the underground levels, matching rifles slung over their backs. Shinji, to his surprise, didn't really care what they thought of him. He was a bit nervous at the prospect of firing a gun for the first time, but excited as well, and that torturous anxiety about tonight's operation was mercifully gone for the moment. In fact, for the first time he could think of, he felt... well, a twinge of confidence. He felt tough: like he could take on anything in the world and win.
It was funny when he thought about it. When behind the controls of the deadliest weapon humanity had ever devised, he never felt this way. With this heavy, unwieldy, ancient rifle at his side, however, and in the company of the Major, he didn't fear any man or beast.
After a few wrong turns and an endless elevator ride, the duo finally emerged out into some sort of atrium, a bright, airy space on the ground floor at one corner of the glass pyramid. Floor to ceiling windows tilting inwards surrounded two sides of the room, giving a panoramic view out into the Geofront's lush forests, and a large indoor garden added to the room's calming atmosphere. Normally, many off-duty NERV personnel could be found lounging here, but with the organization at full alert the place was all but deserted.
At the Major's prompting, Shinji checked the set of barely legible directions and the crudely drawn map the armourer had provided them. He had been placed in charge of navigation after the Major admitted that he hard time reading Japanese handwriting, though as a native speaker Shinji could barely decipher the armourer's scribbling himself.
Studying the slip of paper for a moment, Shinji finally comprehended that they needed to leave via the east entrance, which according to the sign above them were the glass doors directly in front of the pair across the atrium. Nodding his agreement, the Major set off towards them, with Shinji following behind, trying his best to imitate the pilot's confident, purposeful stride. It was tough with the butt of his rifle banging against the back of his leg every few steps.
"You sure you don't want me to carry that thing for you? It's not really meant to be slung like that on someone of your... stature." It wasn't the first time on their short journey that the Major made the offer, but Shinji once again refused. He still had his pride, if nothing else.
"Okay tough guy," the Major said with chuckle. "Although I should tell you that you're getting grease all over your shirt."
"W-what!" The boy craned his neck, and saw to his dismay black stains all down the back of his white school uniform where the rifle was rubbing up against it. "Aw man, that's never gonna come out..." he muttered forlornly.
As they neared the doors, a shrill voice called out across the atrium from somewhere behind them, causing Shinji to jump in surprise. The Major had a chortle at this, before he and his charge turned to see what the commotion was. Hurrying towards them from the elevator was miss Ritsuko, with Rei following closely behind her.
"Major! I'm glad I caught you, do you have a moment?" The scientist called out to them.
When there was no response from the man, Shinji glanced up at him, and was puzzled to see an utterly terrified look cross the man's features, like he'd just seen a ghost. Sure, miss Ritsuko could be a little intense, but she wasn't some sort of monster. As he followed the man's gaze, however, it quickly dawned on the boy that he wasn't looking at the scientist. He was looking at Rei.
As Shinji grappled with this, the Major gave a small shake of his head a returned his face to a neutral expression with a visible effort, though he remained paler than usual. Miss Ritsuko seemed not to notice, raising an eyebrow and stifling a bout of laughter at the sight of the pair as she approached.
"You two look like you're off to fight in the Congo." She opined with a wry smile, gesturing to their camo-painted rifles.
Shaking off his apparent fright, the Major grinned broadly and clapped a hand onto Shinji's shoulder. "That's right, we've had it with NERV, so we're running away to be mercenaries. Adventure, danger and tropical diseases, that's the life for us, right kiddo?"
"Oh, uh, right." Shinji didn't understand what the two adults were referring to, but the Major's good humour was infectious, and the boy managed to crack a small smile as he met the man's eyes.
"Hm." Miss Ritsuko dropped her joking facade as Rei silently drifted into place next to Ritsuko, her impassive gaze shifting between Shinji and the Major. "Anyways Major, Captain Katsuragi wanted me to introduce you to Rei Ayanami. She's the pilot of Unit zero, and it's been decided that she'll be taking part in operation Yashima. Both Evas are being deployed together for the first time."
"...Yashima. Is that what we're calling it?"
"Indeed."
The Major nodded slowly, his eyes settling on the girl as he shifted uncomfortably. "I'm certainly pleased to make your acquaintance Miss Ayanami, but uh, what does this have to do with me?"
Miss Ritsuko rolled her eyes, no doubt busy and quickly growing impatient with the conversation. "It's undecided for the moment which Eva will be the shooter and which will be providing support, so Misato wants you to include Rei in whatever training you were planning to give Shinji."
The Major considered that for a moment, before again looking down at Rei. "Well Miss Ayanami, you're more than welcome to tag along of course. We've got two rifles and plenty of ammo. You think you can handle one of these?" He shrugged the shoulder that the weapon hung from.
"I will do so if I am ordered to." The girl replied in her usual barely audible whisper without missing a beat. The Major was taken aback by the blunt reply. Rei certainly took some getting used to, Shinji reminded himself.
"O-okay. Well, I'm not sure I have the authority to order you to do anything, but, uh, welcome to the team, I guess." The Man was clearly trying his best to act normal, but was still visibly discomforted by the girl's presence for some reason Shinji couldn't decipher.
Rei seemed confused by the Major's response. Shinji reasoned that she was probably unfamiliar with being spoken to so courteously by an adult. Not surprising, considering the person she seemed to interact with the most was his father, who Shinji was almost certain was the surliest human being ever to walk the earth.
"There you go Major, you've got a regular little scout troop to wander around the woods with. Speaking of which," Miss Ritsuko reached into her lab coat and withdrew a cell phone, putting into the man's hand with an annoyed huff. "Courtesy of Captain Katsuragi, she wants to be able to contact you at any time for obvious reasons. You're probably the only person on earth who doesn't carry a cell in this day and age."
"Well gosh, I'm just a member of the common soldiery, all I own is what the government issues me," the Major replied with a smirk as he pocketed the device.
Miss Ritsuko was not amused, taking a step forward and giving the man a withering look. "I hope you appreciate just how much you're being entrusted with here, Mister. I would be taking that responsibility very seriously if I were you."
With those menacing words, the scientist took a step back, her gaze lingering on the Man for a moment, before turning on her heel and making for the elevators.
The Major stood stock still for a moment as he watched miss Ritsuko depart, before turning to survey the two teens he was now responsible for. With a sigh, he chopped a hand in the direction of the doors leading out into the geofront.
"Alright troops," he said in mock tone of command as he stepped off, "Let's move 'em out. We got work to do."
The range wasn't too difficult to find. In fact, the walk from headquarters was downright pleasant.
Bishop felt oddly at home in the forest that carpeted the geofront floor. As he examined the foliage more closely, it became clear to him why: the trees here were completely different from those on the surface above. Instead of the Cedar and Cypress that dominated the woodlands of Japan, the Canadian noted many species that were natives of the vast, untamed forests of his distant homeland. Lodgepole pine, white spruce, and Douglas fir to name a few. The smell of the forest was one he remembered fondly, and if only he could look up and see the sky, he might have been able to imagine he was again an adventurous boy exploring the woods near his father's farm with the auburn-haired girl who lived down the road.
The only explanation he could think of for the out of place conifers was that they were deliberately sown here, but this all looked to be old growth, meaning it must have been planted decades if not centuries ago...
Deciding it wasn't worth fretting over, he returned his attention to the task at hand. He was sat on a rock with the open can of ammo beside him. One by one, he withdrew the loose rounds from their container and pressed them into the magazine in his hand, all the while keeping a close eye on his two young charges down at the other end of the range. Range was a generous term; it was really nothing more than a clearing with a raised earthen barrier about a hundred yards from where he now sat, along a small storage shed and a thin strip of gravel marking the firing line. There were a neat row of wooden target frames at he base of the berm, and in the storage shed they'd thankfully found a set of paper targets as well as a stapler to attach them, along with various other necessary accoutrements such as ear and eye protection.
He'd sent the kids down to the end of the range to set up the targets, while he set about the tedious process of loading up the magazines. As he watched them, he remembered the doc's stern warning, feeling a twinge of anxiety at the burden he now bore. It was odd when he thought about it: he'd been in command of a fighter squadron once, in charge of a score of multi-million dollar jets along with the hundreds of people needed to fly and maintain them, and he was more worried now about looking after a couple of teenagers than he ever was then.
But they weren't just a pair of teenagers, he reminded himself. He was solely responsible for the safety of what were, for the moment at least, probably the two most important people in the world. Casting a dubious eye on the two ancient rifles leaning against the nearby storage shed with their bolts open and magazines safely removed, he decided he probably ought to test fire them himself before giving them to the kids. Just in case.
There was also the matter of that girl. Hallucination my ass, it was her. It had to be, unless there were a lot of grey haired, red-eyed teenagers running around Japan. She looked just like the figure who'd been stalking him through that dimly lit corridor last week. She was even wearing the exact same clothes, and had the same detached, impassive look in her crimson eyes. Now that he knew it was a flesh and bone person he'd seen that day, he wracked his brain for a logical explanation for the unsettling incident, but came up empty.
Well, even if she was some sort of ninja, or any of the other ludicrous explanations that came to mind, she was still just a frail young girl, and the idea of her being sent to fight made him angrier still at the people who ran this damned place.
Focus on the here and now, on what you can do. It was abundantly clear at this point that his objections to the use of child soldiers were falling deaf ears. All he could do for now was try to teach these kids a thing or two that might keep them from getting themselves killed out there.
Twenty. He counted the last round into magazine and set it down on the rock before reaching for an empty one to begin the process over again. Boy, how many hours of my life have I spent doing this... A rare happy memory from his days in the army flitted briefly through the old soldier's head, of an evening during training spent sitting around a campfire with his comrades, doing exactly this as they prepared for the next day's field exercises. They jested with each other, swapped tall tales, complained endlessly as only soldiers can, and even sang a song or two.
Because these green hills are not highland hills
Or the island hills
They're not my land's hills
And fair as these green foreign hills may be
They are not the hills of home.
He whistled a few bars the old tune to himself, a favourite around the campfires of long ago, feeling an odd pang of homesickness despite having no real home to long for.
Caught up in his reminiscing, he didn't hear the soft footfalls of the two teenagers as they approached, and he looked up in surprise at the sound of Shinji's timid voice.
"Uh, excuse me sir, but I think we're done..." The boy stopped a few metres in front of the rock, with miss Ayanami trailing silently a few paces behind. Both looked expectantly up at him as he gazed across the clearing, seeing that there were now targets mounted on all of the dozen or so frames. Nodding his approval at their handiwork, he clicked the last round into the magazine in his hand, before hopping down off the boulder.
At his instruction, they both donned their earmuffs and safety glasses, before following him over to where their rifles were waiting.
"Alright you two, pay attention." Picking up one of the rifles, he demonstrated how to load it, rocking the magazine into place before letting the bolt slam forward to chamber a round. "This range is now hot. Do not, under any circumstance, step in front of the firing line from now on until I give the all clear. Understood?"
"Yes sir." The two kids both replied simultaneously.
"Good. You see how I'm holding this rifle?" He held it with the muzzle pointed at the ground in front of him, finger away from the trigger, and with the stock firmly against his shoulder.
"Yes sir."
"This is called the low ready position. If you are ever holding a loaded weapon and not firing it, keep the muzzle pointed at the ground. Don't ever point a loaded gun at anything you don't intend to shoot. Not at each other, and not at yourselves. Katsuragi'll have my guts for garters for if either of you get so much as a scratch on you, so lets do our best to avoid that, shall we?"
"Yes sir." Shinji's voice was apprehensive, while the girl's was utterly monotone.
"Excellent, and on that subject, I'll be firing these rifles first to make sure they're safe, so you two just stand back and pay attention for the moment." With that, the pilot stepped forward to toe the firing line and brought the weapon to his shoulder, peering through the rear aperture and centering the front sight blade on one of the paper targets.
He shut his eyes briefly, and when he opened them again, he found to his surprise that he was no longer in the pleasant green forests of the geofront, and he was no longer pointing the rifle at a paper target a hundred yards away. He was in a room in a ruined office building in a besieged city, a building that had just changed hands for what seemed like the tenth time in as many days after a determined assault. He was pointing the rifle at a young soldier in ill fitting camouflage fatigues, no more than a boy really, who stood just a few metres away with his hands raised in surrender.
"Um, Major?" Shinji's voice again snapped him back to reality.
"...Yes?" he managed to reply after a moment, his mouth dry and skin clammy.
"How come you aren't wearing any ear protection?" the boy asked innocently. Bishop thought about explaining to him how his damaged hearing had long since been desensitized to the sound of gunfire, and how he, like many a soldier before him, had a permanent case of tinnitus that would forever more deny him the pleasure of silence.
But instead, he just took a deep breath and curled his finger around the trigger of the rifle, once again centering the piece of paper in the sights.
"Do as I say kid," he muttered over his shoulder. "Not as I do."
Even with the earmuffs on, the crack of the rifle was still deafening to Shinji, and it kicked back painfully into the boy's shoulder as he pulled the trigger for the first time. He was lying in the prone position, his elbows resting on the grass just behind the firing line, which to his surprise made it fairly easy to hold the heavy rifle steady.
"Hurts, doesn't it?" The Major asked dryly from where he crouched beside him, clucking his tongue in reproach. "It wouldn't kick so badly if you'd listen to me. Pull the butt tight into your shoulder like I showed you so it's got no room to move."
"R-right." Shinji did as he was told, while the Major watched carefully.
"Not bad, now loosen your left hand a little bit, it's pulling the muzzle all over the place. It should just cradle the rifle gently, you don't need a death grip."
"Okay..." It was a struggle trying to apply everything the Major was teaching him all at once, but to his credit, the man had yet to lose his patience.
"That's a bit better. Now one last thing."
"What's that?"
"Relax!" The Major said with a grin. "There's no need to be nervous, we're perfectly safe on this side of the muzzle. Now, line up the sights again."
Shinji nodded, focusing as best he could on the front sight blade while pulling the rifle firmly back into his shoulder.
"Good. Now take a deep breath in. Hold it for a moment, then let it out. Do it again, deep breath in, and this time squeeze the trigger midway through the exhale."
The next shot caused him to flinch a bit less, and the kick, while jarring, wasn't painful this time.
"Better. You almost hit the target that time." The Major was watching downrange through a pair of binoculars he'd found in the storage shed. "You're still jerking the trigger and tensing up in anticipation of the kick, though, that's throwing the muzzle off target at the last second. You need to squeeze it, not pull, in one smooth motion. You know what the recoil's like now, so there's no need to tense up."
"O-okay." After a few more shots and more patient instruction, the boy finally landed a bullet on the paper, much to his and the Major's delight. He felt an odd sense of accomplishment, finding he couldn't stop his face from breaking into a broad grin.
"Well I'll be, we might just make a rifleman out of you yet," the Major said with a chuckle. "Now, the tricky part is putting the bullet in the same spot over and over again. The only way to get better is to practice, so why don't you keep going until your magazine's empty while I go get Miss Ayanami set up. For now, don't worry about trying to hit the bullseye, just focus on getting your technique down. Take your time, big deep breaths, and nice smooth motions. Got it?"
"Y-yeah, I think so." He most assuredly did not, but he tried his best to remember everything he'd just learned as the Major made his way down the firing line to where Rei was waiting patiently for the man's instruction. She seemed to have no qualms with lying prone in the dirt in her school uniform. Not very girlish, in Shinji's opinion, but then again neither was anything Rei seemed to do.
Much to Shinji's annoyance, she seemed to take to shooting much more naturally than he did. He watched as the Major talked her through her first few shots, all which showed on the paper downrange. Her motions were smooth and fluid, and there was not a trace of nervousness on her face. Shinji would have expected the rifle's recoil to send the frail girl flying backwards, but she seemed to have no trouble keeping the bucking weapon under control.
The sight brought out a competitive streak the boy didn't know he had, and with redoubled determination, he brought his cheek to the stock and curled his finger around the trigger, willing himself to be calm. Miss Misato would would never let him hear the end of it if he were to be out-shot by a girl.
The intermittent din of rifle fire rang through the geofront throughout the afternoon. Anyone who didn't know better might have thought there was a battle raging somewhere in the underground forest. And there was in a certain sense, Bishop thought to himself with a grin.
His two pupils were engaged in a fierce contest, or at least Shinji was once he saw how well Rei was taking to his instruction. Miss Ayanami herself didn't seem to particularly care one way or the other, simply doing as she was told without comment, entirely focused on the task at hand. He couldn't help but be impressed by the girl's natural talent for marksmanship, even if he was still decidedly creeped out by her.
The boy, meanwhile, needed some careful coaching before he was consistently landing rounds on target. It was clear that he was allowing his mind to wander, growing frustrated at his apparent lack of ability compared to Rei. Bishop repeatedly admonished him to tune out any and all distractions, to focus on nothing except for his rifle's front sight, but every time he left the kid for more than a few seconds, he'd return to find him stealing glances over at the girl.
Nevertheless, he persisted in his drilling, and as the afternoon wore on into early evening, both of his students were shooting reasonably consistent groups, though the girl's were still a lot tighter. Not bad, considering rifle training in the army generally went on for weeks, or months for specialists such as snipers. Not only that, but Shinji at least seemed noticeably more relaxed than when Bishop had found him earlier. Shooting could certainly be a therapeutic experience, at least when nobody was shooting back.
After a short break to change out the targets, he set the teens back to what he figured would probably be the last round of shooting for the day. Casting a glance up at massive skylights in the ceiling of the cavern, somewhere above which that thing was still slowly but surely coming for them, he estimated they would lose the sun within the next half-hour or so. He watched with a twinge of pride as they took up their rifles, loading them properly without his input and taking up their positions, waiting for his go-ahead to commence firing.
Just before he gave the order, he heard a feminine voice call out from somewhere behind him. Turning, he saw a very peeved looking Katsuragi hurrying towards him from the trail that led back to headquarters, followed closely by the blonde doctor whose name he couldn't quite get to stick in his mind.
"Hold your fire!" he called over the kids, before turning to greet the irritated woman.
"What the hell's the matter with you?" She all but shouted at him as she approached, leaving him thoroughly confused.
"Uh..." he though about cracking wise, but from the look on her face, he decided it might just be the last joke he ever made.
"We've been trying to get ahold of you for half an hour now, I was worried sick! What are you, deaf?"
"Well, not quite, but..." He belatedly remembered the cell phone he'd been given. Withdrawing it from his pocket, he grimaced as he opened it and saw about half a dozen missed calls. "Sorry. I guess it was set to silent." He shrugged, flashing Katsuragi an innocent smile.
She continued to glare at him a moment longer, before letting out a breath and looking past him to see that the kids were safe and sound. "Well, as the long as everything's okay, I guess there's no harm done," she said reluctantly.
Glancing over Katsuragi's shoulder, Bishop saw the doc looking decidedly annoyed at his getting off the hook. He couldn't help but poke the bear, flashing her a smug grin and turning away before she could react.
"So, uh, how's this all been going?" Katsuragi asked, her gaze fixed on the curious sight of the two young Eva pilots lying prone with rifles at the ready, casting glances over their shoulders at the commotion behind them, but knowing better than to make a move with loaded weapons in their hands without Bishop's permission.
"Come see for yourself." He bid the two ladies to follow him as he made his way over to the firing line, stopping a few metres behind the kids.
"H-hi miss Misato!" Shinji greeted his guardian enthusiastically, craning his neck to look at her over his shoulder. Much to Bishop's satisfaction, he was careful to keep the muzzle of his rifle pointed downrange despite the distraction. If nothing else, he'd managed to drill a bit of gun safety into their heads. Rei, meanwhile, remained stoically focused on her target, patiently awaiting the order to fire.
"Alright you two, time to show the boss what you've learned." He crossed his arms as he barked out his orders. "Pick a target and put ten rounds on it, then put the remaining ten rounds into the target next to it. Fire when ready."
As the first shots rang out, the doc scrambled to cover her ears, while Katsuragi didn't even flinch at the sound. Bishop wondered if she'd been more to the JSSDF than she'd let on; he doubted a simple peacetime conscript would have enough experience with firearms to be as desensitized to sound of gunfire as he was.
When they'd both emptied their magazines, the kids stood smartly at his command and presented their arms for inspection. He approached and verified that both weapons were empty, before grinning down at them.
"Well done, the both of you. The range is now clear, go stow your weapons and take a rest, you've earned it." Disapproving as he may have been of the fact that these kids had to fight, he was still proud of the persistence and drive they'd demonstrated today in the face of their first taste of proper military training. Not a peep of complaint from either of them, despite having been pushed hard. Hopefully, that would translate to toughness in the face of the enemy.
The exhausted teens both nodded their thanks at the words of praise and made their way over to the storage shed, leaning their rifles against it before taking a seat on the grass nearby.
"Now, why don't we take a walk downrange and take a look at the targets," he said, turning to the two visitors. Clearly impressed at the results of his training, both women nodded their agreement and followed the pilot across the clearing.
"So, how's operation Yamaha coming along?" Bishop casually asked.
"Yashima." It was the doc who sharply corrected him in a voice belonging to someone at their wit's end.
"... And it's a logistical nightmare, just like I said it would be," she muttered, rubbing her temples. "We've at least got our hands on the positron cannon, and Takao's people are working like mad to get it ready. As for procuring all the power generating capacity in Japan... Well, it'll be close if we manage to make it happen at all."
"Pfft, always the pessimist, aren't you Rits." Katsuragi was just as confident as she'd been all day, but Bishop could see in her eyes that the stress was beginning to take a toll on her as well.
"Yes, well, anyways..." Bishop could see that the topic was a sore spot between the two, and pressed on to the matter at hand. "Those kids have both taken surprisingly well to shooting. They know how to breathe properly, they can keep themselves calm, and they can hold a weapon steady in the prone position for as long as they need to."
Katsuragi nodded her approval. "Well, I guess that's the best we can expect from a single afternoon's training, thank you, Major. You never know. It just might make the difference."
He shrugged as they reached the row of targets. "Yeah, well, there's more. They can both shoot just fine, but, uh, one of them is a bit more of a natural than the other." He gestured to a pair of targets to their left. Each had a loose cluster of neat holes punched in it in a fairly wide radius around the bullseye in the centre.
"These," he said, "are Shinji's rounds. As you can see, it's a pretty wide grouping, about eight inches I'd say. Now, that's not bad at all considering it's the first time he's held a rifle, and with a little more time and training he'd probably show a lot of improvement, but..."
"That's a luxury we don't have at the moment." Katsuragi immediately picked up on the point he was trying to make.
"Right." He nodded and made his way down the row to Rei's targets. "These, by comparison, are Miss Ayanami's shots." The two targets he gestured to each had a tight cluster of holes directly in the centre of the bullseye. "It's remarkable, really. Two-inch groups at a hundred yards with a rusty old battle rifle. That's better than I could do if I'm being honest. Hell, guys who shot that well in the army were usually picked for sniper school."
The women were speechless. "...Could it be that one of the rifles is better than the other?" the doc finally asked.
Bishop shook his head emphatically. "I had them switch a few times. The result was the exact same."
"Who would've thought it, huh?" Katsuragi said with a chuckle. "Innocent little Rei is a crack shot. Would you say it's just a matter of talent, Major?" She asked, casting a curious eye upon him.
He thought about it for a moment, before answering carefully. "Maybe," he said, scratching at his chin. "To some degree anyways, but there's more to it than that I think. You can tell when she's shooting that's she's completely and utterly focused. She's not concerned with anything other than doing what she's been told to do, and doing it well."
Both women nodded knowingly. "Yeah," the doc said, casting glance back at where the kids were resting in the grass, "That's Rei, alright."
"Shinji on the other hand..." Bishop continued. "Well, he's trying his damnedest, but you can tell that his mind's constantly wandering. He's always worrying and trying to anticipate what could go wrong, which means that he's not focused on the here and now, and that what counts in marksmanship. Especially in combat."
Katsuragi and the doctor looked at each other for a moment. "So, what do you say, Rits? Still think Shinji should be the shooter?"
The blonde was lost in thought as she contemplated Rei's targets. "Hm. It's a tough call. Shinji's got the marginally higher sync rate, which means the Eva will respond more precisely to his inputs. But... well, if Rei's the better shot, that means her inputs will be more precise than Shinji's to begin with, and if he's not entirely focused..." She looked back towards Shinji's targets, thinking for another moment, before turning to face Katsuragi and nodding decisively.
"Rei should be the shooter."
Apologies to everyone following this story, I know it's been a while, but I hope to keep to a more frequent update schedule in the future. Stay tuned!