A day had passed since his first group therapy session with Draco and Lilith. He had relaxed the following day and focused on his knitting while listening to music. The scarf he was working on was now approaching nearly 2 feet in length and he was very pleased with how it was coming along.
He had gotten back into knitting and crochet during his last few months in prison. While he had been sentenced to serve 24 months in prison, a deal had been made to where he only ended up having to serve 8, and the other 16 months were rolled into his other 72 months of probation. He had picked up a book in the prison library and actually discovered more than few other inmates were actually into yarn crafts as well, and one had even lent him a ball of yarn and a pair of needles to practice with. The results had been less than spectacular...
He hadn't given up though. And initially had limited himself to simple two dimensional projects such as simple scarves, shawls, and eventually two MASSIVE ripple stitch crocheted afghans. One for his parents, one for his brother. He had been limited in what internet usage he was allowed due to federal oversight, he could've had devices and computers if he had wanted, but didn't feel like paying the feds to install monitoring software, on top of paying an additional monthly fee for it. He'd even downgraded to a "dumb" or flip phone.
His counselors had told him he was being foolish and stubborn, and that he was making things harder for himself. He merely told them they were allowed their opinion and he was allowed to make his choices. Mentally he had remained defiant of them, and while he had learned much during his time in therapy and even used much of what he learned in therapy to help himself, he NEVER trusted them. For one simple reason, the bulk of all their "clients", himself included, came about through contracts with the Federal Justice Department, and to Rob, that meant they were as good as on the same payroll as his probation officers. And to him that meant they were entirely biased. No matter, he had learned to use the system to his advantage where he could, but more importantly he had learned a new appreciation for written material and physical media.
As a result, nearly ALL of his knit and crochet techniques, along with many more skills, had come through self teaching himself, mostly through books. Every skill learned and mastered was hard won and helped him not only expand his capability but solidified his resolve to do things his way and without the "assistance" of his counselors or probation officers.
It fostered a strong sense of independence within him and he reveled in each small "victory" he managed without needing to use the internet and bow to the demands of his "overseers".
More than that, it had helped him with his confidence and began to reestablish a sense of self worth in him. He took pride in what he made and put effort into each project he did to make it as nice and beautiful as he could. He also got a kick out of seeing many people, men and women look a little bewildered at the beautiful, sometimes downright elegant pieces being made by a man they assumed was like a bouncer at some nightclub.
Even more than that though, he just found it plain soothing. He had learned to find an almost Zen like state by either putting on some music, a recorded book, or even just the tv with a bunch of reruns or several hours of How It's Made, or something similar, and just listening while he worked away on a project. If he already knew the number of rows needed, he'd been able to knit an entire pair of socks in a span of less than twelve hours.
So here he was, listening to some meditative Nordic inspired music, sitting with his legs outstretched and his back propped up by a few pillows, and just working away happily. His mind focused entirely on following the pattern before him, no worries about paperwork, the grappling battle he'd been in with Draco, or having been nearly made an unwilling male tentacle porn victim, there was only the music, the needles, the yarn, and the next stitch.
There was a knock at the door and he set down the knitting as he said "Come in" before pausing the music on his device, starting to stand. As he did the door opened and Tio stepped inside the room smiling gently. She was wearing a simple, flowing, mint green dress with lace trim around the hem. "Am I interrupting anything?" she asked.
"Nothing important" he said with a smile while trying not to stare at her chest. As much as he berated himself for still being fixated on such things, Rob would be the first to admit that he was a "boob man", and in that regard, even for a woman of her stature, Tio was abundantly blessed. Each of her breasts seemed to easily be as big as his own head, if not a little bigger, and both seemed to be almost spilling out of her current dress. She was showing off enough cleavage to nestle a textbook in.
"Is there something you needed any help with?" he asked, suddenly feeling a little self conscious for wearing only a black "wife beater" and some lounge shorts. While comfortable with his body, and proud of his tattoos, when around Tio he felt worried that he would be off-putting to the kind and sweet ogress.
"I just wanted to see if you were okay, and maybe talk a little bit, if that's alright?" she smiled. He couldn't believe it, but he felt himself blush a little bit as he said "S-sure, that'd be fine" before he gestured to the arm chair for her to sit in, as he began to go towards the the simpler chair by the desk.
Tio stopped him as she said "You can just sit on your bed, I don't mind" before she walked over to the armchair and moved it to face the bed before she took a seat in it.
Rob sat down on the side edge of his bed and tried to quell the feeling of awkwardness in him. He'd been grilled by an Arachne who'd gone topless to try and distract him, taken on Draco with his bare hands, dropped that punk in the restaurant where he'd stood with just one arm, to say nothing of that fucking orc... so why did Tio make him so nervous?
"So, what did you want to talk about?" he asked after an awkward pause had begun turning into a silence.
"Huh?" Tio said looking up suddenly as if he'd startled her a little. She smiled a bit apologetically as she said "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to stare, but..." she pointed down towards his left ankle and shin "...what is that?"
He looked down to where she was pointing and smiled a little. It was a tattoo of a black tentacle that started on the inside of his left foot and coiled up and around his ankle and shin and ended with the tip just beneath where the swell of his calf muscle started on the outside edge.
"It's supposed to be a Kraken tentacle seizing my leg" he said in explanation.
"Why'd you get a tattoo of that?" she asked.
He shrugged "In Viking and Norse mythology, the Kraken was supposedly the second largest and most formidable beast in the world, and I figured it would be neat having a tattoo of some kind representing one"
"What was the largest beast?" she asked curiously, a little smile on her lips.
"Jörmungandr, The Midgard, or World Serpent. The second of the three children of Loki the Trickster, and the giantess Angrboða. A serpent or wyrm that was so massive it was said to encircle the great ocean that surrounded the realm of Midgard, or the world, often holding his own tail in his mouth" he said, happy to discuss a lore he had studied for years, finding it both fascinating and satisfying as he strove to learn more about his ancestral heritage.
"Do you have a tattoo of that, too?" she asked.
"I do" he said as he pulled his beard aside and let her see a good portion of the tattoo that encircled his shoulders, chest, and back, draping low in front and in back. It was a serpent whose body twisted and looped around itself in a very stylized manner and whose head, just above his sternum, held its tail in its mouth.
Her eyes went wide as she looked at the complexity and pattern of the weaving snake body, and he felt she possibly wanted to trace it with her fingertip.
"It's so complex but pretty in its own way. Are all of your tattoos about the Vikings?" she asked looking back up into his eyes.
He smiled and shook his head "Not all of them, some are much more personal in their meaning, but a great portion are Nordic in their meaning, design, or inspiration"
He patted the large tattoo that covered much of his left shoulder and upper arm as he said "This tattoo is actually a close replica, or even a sibling, if you will, of one my big brother has on his right shoulder and arm" he said as he pointed out the details. "The words in the cloud on his shoulder are written in plain English and spell out "Valhalla", and the lighting bolt is of a tribal design. The lighting bolt of mine is more realistic, and the word in the cloud on my shoulder is written in Elder Futhark Runes, and spells out "Valhöll" the old Norse word that eventually became Valhalla" he said with a smile before adding "In this way at least, I can always keep my brother close to me"
"What's that one, there?" she asked pointing to one she had just noticed on the inside of his right forearm, just under his wrist. It looked like an angular figure 8, with a three pronged top point, and a single line running down through the middle, all done with dark red ink. His smile faded as he covered the tattoo with his left hand.
"That's an Úlfhéðnar... a Wolf Warrior, or Berserker Rune" he said quietly and looking away from her eyes.
"Berserker?" she questioned
"Berserkers were the most ferocious warriors of Viking culture. They were said to work themselves into a berserk state, or rage, before going into battle and were said to be immune to fear, and to pain, to the point where they were almost unstoppable" he said quietly, opting to withhold the gorier details.
Tio seemed to take a moment to digest this before asking "Do you think that you're a berserker?"
Rob thought for a while before answering "I don't really think that I am, but a lot of people have told me that my rage made me into something else when it took hold of me, so I don't really know"
"Like with that orc?" she asked
"Yeah..." was all he answered quietly before looking up into her eyes and asking "What did you really come in here for?"
She smiled a little sheepishly "I wanted to see if you were still hurting"
He saw from the look in her eyes that she didn't mean physically hurting.
He looked down and took a deep breath. "I honestly don't know if I'll ever stop hurting Tio. What I've done? The things I've seen and wish to unsee? They're not something you just move past after enough time goes by. Sometimes I'm not sure I ever will. And other times...?" he didn't finish his thought. He knew that Tio somehow instinctively understood that he felt he deserved his suffering.
He looked up and saw a very sad, almost anguished look on her face. He hated this, he would do anything he could to keep such a sweet girl from being hurt, and here his very presence was causing her sadness.
He tried to smile reassuringly as he said "Don't worry about me, Tio. I was made to handle such things; pain and discomfort are old acquaintances of mine"
She still looked sad as she said "Just because you're used to it, doesn't mean you should have to bear it, Rob-kun"
He smiled at her use of such a familiar honorific with his name, he wanted to tell her she was right, that he was too hard on himself, but he would not insult Tio by lying to her.
"What I've done, it's not the sort of thing that can be canceled out with a 1:1 exchange. I can only combat it by trying every day to be as good as I can" he said quietly
"But you HAVE done good things! Even GREAT things!" she said, and as he looked up he saw that warm spark in her eyes that he found so alluring yet soothing as she continued "You saved Nekoko and her daughter! You stopped that Orc! You're helping Polt-chan with Draco and Lilith! You're helping Smith AND us! That's a lot of good, Rob-kun!" she smiled
His heart swelled at her words...but something wouldn't let him feel totally happy, and he sighed.
Tio huffed annoyed as she exclaimed "Geez!" and Rob snapped his head up and saw a tiny little look of mischief take over her frustrated gaze as she said "Alright, we're going to try this now..."
Rob gulped and suddenly wondered where she was going with this as she continued "...you're going to tell me one thing that would make you genuinely happy, and then you and I will do it together! But don't be asking anything inappropriate now!" she finished with a cute little bit of blush coming into her cheeks.
Out of nowhere the thought crashed into his head like the ram on a Roman Trireme, and in a split second he realized the opportunity that had been placed in front of him.
"Fortis Fortuna Adiuvat..."
"So...whatever I ask, if it would make me truly happy, and isn't inappropriate, you'll do it with me?" he asked, pretending to seek clarification while he readied himself internally to ask what he wanted.
"Mmm-hmmm!" Tio said sweetly and nodded before looking at him expectantly.
"Then...would you-" he began to ask, when the door opened and a joyous looking Zombina stepped in declaring "I hope you're ready for a bit of fun today, Newbie!"
"GOD-FUCKING-DAMNIT!"
He turned such a look of quiet fury and wrath on Zombina that she briefly wondered if she might burst into flames where she stood.
"Didn't anyone ever teach you to knock first?" he asked in a chillingly calm tone.
Before Zombina could answer, Tio stood up and said "Well you let me know when you think of something, Rob-kun!" before beginning to head towards the door.
"Tio, wait!" he said starting to follow her. She turned and smiled sweetly at him as she said "You have things to do with Bina-chan, I can wait for your answer"
"But I already have an answer!" he said almost desperate for her not to leave until he had asked her what he wanted.
"Then just tell me later, I don't mind" she said with that same cute smile on her face before stepping out of the room before he could protest further.
He couldn't believe it. He couldn't have wished for a more perfect opportunity than the one that had been before him just now, to finally ask Tio if he could start spending time with her, and it was gone.
"Did I interrupt something?" Zombina asked sounding a bit confused.
The smile Rob gave her was alarming and when coupled with his cracked almost sing-song voice, was downright terrifying as he said "No~o! Whatever could possibly have given you such an idea, Zombina!?"
Rob had impressed himself with the level of control he had managed to have with Zombina. Reminding himself that what she had done was not intentional, personally motivated, or part of some vendetta against him in anyway.
But he had made her swear to him, under the threat of him personally sewing her asshole shut, by hand no less, and feeding her until said stitches tore, that she would never, EVER just open his door without knocking, ever again. He found a small bit of pride in that his gaze could even intimidate one of the undead.
An hour later, he and Manako, were being driven in the black Jeep Wrangler that M.O.N. provided the girls for general transport. Zombina seemed to have gotten over her initial worry of having upset Rob, and was wearing a shit eating grin across her face, but said nothing as what she was so eager about.
Rob mostly kept quiet as he stared out the passenger seat window, though he didn't really see what was passing by him. His mind was still focused on Tio and what he had wanted to ask her. The storm of thoughts and emotions that centered around her in his mind was daunting to say the least. Rob very often preferred seeing things in simple black and white terms, the more "gray area" he encountered, the harder it became for him to make complete decisions and to act, unfortunately that made day-to-day interaction with the world at large complex on it's own. Tio was so beautiful, and not just physically. Although her body was like that of a goddess, it was who she was that really attracted him to her. She was a genuinely kind and loving person, despite all of the ugliness and sin she had to have seen in her occupation. Her heart bled for those that were in pain, physically and emotionally, yet it never became scarred, even now, she was still worried about him and his constant battle with his self loathing. He had begun to see her as much more than just the beautiful woman she was, she meant so much more than that now.
"Am I falling in love with Tio...?"
"Well, here we are!" Zombina said pulling into a parking lot, and snapping Rob out of his thoughts. They had come out to a much more rural area he guessed was to the west. He saw much more trees and grass than concrete and glass. Stepping out of the Jeep, he was surprised to hear the familiar sound of pistol and rifle fire, familiar to him at least. His head snapped over to look at Zombina and she simply maintained her grin. He turned his head back in the direction they were headed and saw the classic shape of a long, gable roofed structure. He knew there would only be one wall in place at the back of the structure facing the parking lot to help dampen noise, but the rest would be open. He smiled subconsciously as he caught the familiar scents of burnt smokeless pistol and rifle powder.
Zombina waved an arm at him as she made for a side building attached to the main and more public portion of the range saying "Don't just stand there Newbie! C'mon, we got work to do!"
Rob trotted after her and followed behind Manako before they entered the larger building, and he looked about the interior. There were three large tables to one side of the room, under each of them were large toolboxes on castors, along with bottles of what he assumed were solvent, cleaning solution, and oil. He was taken immediately with the wall of bolt action rifles sitting next to several large gun lockers and safes.
His eyes centered on the immense, futuristic looking rifle painted a matte FDE, and he walked over to it almost in awe. "Mein Gott..." he said whispering softly in German, before looking over at Manako who was standing next to him with a gentle smile and gave him a nod to go ahead. He lifted the rifle off the wall and felt the solid heft and mass of it, whistling as he cradled it in his arms.
"You recognize this rifle?" Manako asked curiously, seeing the look in the big mans eyes.
"This is a CheyTac M200 Intervention, made by Cheyenne Tactical" he said softly, almost reverentially, as he looked down at precision masterpiece he now held. Detaching the empty magazine, he opened the bolt and made sure the chamber was clear before turning the rifle over, and looking closer at the markings stamped into the left side of the receiver. ".408 CheyTac..." he said softly before unfolding the legs of the unique, over barrel bipod, and setting the nearly 5 foot long rifle down gently on the table, he like the rest of the gun world had fallen in love with this thing upon its introduction, it's claim of being arguably the most lethal super long distance sniper rifle in the right hands having now been backed up by nearly two decades of use. It now held a place of reverence and honor among elite riflemen and snipers across the globe, right alongside equally famous weapons such as the Barrett M107, M82A1, and MacMillan Tac-50. Looking up at Manako he asked "You use this beast?"
She blushed shyly, but nodded, and Rob looked in awe at her, a whole new level of respect for the monoeye girl was etching itself into his brain. This rifle just on it's own without optics or ammunition, weighed all of 31lbs. The latest .50 BMG sniper rifle from Barrett, the M107A1, weighed nearly 3 pounds less in the same state. Yet this petite and almost frail looking girl wielded, and shot this monster, and from what he'd been told by Smith and Zombina, she was extremely proficient with this weapon.
"What's your farthest shot with it?" he asked curiously
"Around 2 miles" she said simply.
Rob nearly fell over. A trained rifleman, and sniper, with the best conditions, ammunition, setup, and practice, could struggle to consistently hit a man sized target at just 1 mile if everything wasn't just right before he pressed the trigger. This girl talked of it like it was just some other thing, not worthy of mention. Rob knew that at ranges this long, things that sounded insane were reality. You didn't need to worry just about wind at the muzzle, but also at the target and everywhere in between. The spin imparted to the bullet by the rifling would start to become a factor that caused the bullet to deviate in the direction of the twist, this was known in shooting circles as Spin Drift. Craziest of all was that fact that at this distance, you essentially had to aim not at your target, but where it was going to be, since the curvature and rotation of the earth itself will have moved your target from where it was at the time the bullet left your gun barrel, to somewhere else by the time it finally arrives at the targets distance, this was know as the Coriolus Affect (And if you need an idea for how long bullet flight time can last, think on this. The previous world record for longest confirmed sniper kill shot, set in 2017 with a Canadian sniper team using a MacMillan TAC-50 bolt action .50 BMG (12.7x99mm), was at a distance of 3,871 yards, or 3,540 meters, and it took the bullet 10 SECONDS to reach the target).
Rob suddenly felt a bit of chill as he realized that Zombina may not be the scariest woman on the M.O.N. Team anymore. Manako had the gear and ability to take someone out from places they could not see, and with a weapon whose bullet would kill you before you ever heard the supersonic 'crack' of it flying towards you, let alone the report of the rifle itself. This shy, sweet, purple haired and purple eyed girl could become the Grim Reaper herself...
Rob simply nodded and said "You have my utmost respect".
She blushed profusely but smiled and nodded back at him, before Zombina gave him a smack on the back and said "Quit makin' Mana-chi blush n' follow me, we gotta get you geared up!" She smiled as she headed over to the lockers and gun safes
"Geared up?" Rob asked confused "Geared up for what?"
"For your position on the M.O.N. dummy!" she said over her shoulder.
Rob blinked "I thought I was only on the team unofficially, or at the very least in a sort of liaison role?"
"You were when Smith came up with the idea and sold it to the higher ups, but things have changed now!" she said sounding positively gleeful
Rob watched as she laid pants, boots, gloves and other gear in the now familiar looking black and golden color scheme associated with Monster Ops Neutralization. She turned and looked at him more seriously as she said "I'm not just trying to get you in the uniform because I think it'll be fun, Newbie. You have a level of aggression, size, speed, and willingness to use violence that we can use on the team, so I want you to start suiting up with us when we get the call"
"You don't need a guy like me, you have everything you need with the team you have already" he said wondering why he didn't really feel like he believed what he was saying to her.
"Tio only works defense and hostage rescue, Doppel can't carry weapons because she's our infiltrator" she said before looking him square in the eye saying "I need another gunman"
"You've got Manako with her rifles" he countered
"Yeah, on overwatch" she countered back "And so far away that if she has to move in or change positions we can lose her help for minutes on end, and as good as she is, even she can't see through walls"
Rob stayed silent this time, thinking.
Zombina took the opportunity to continue "I'm still team captain, but I can't be everywhere at once, and if Manako can't see where I am or what I'm seeing, that means I'm the only gun in the fight. With you we'd have another set of eyes, and someone else on the trigger. We could move faster, hit harder, and have an actual capability of flanking targets. If we don't need you in the front, you can slip back and provide extra security with Tio, and check for any extra surprises"
"It's not going to look very good if my picture gets taken and the media sees me with a gun, more important than that, I'm a human" he said, bringing up a point even she couldn't just brush off "M.O.N. is supposed to be made up specifically of liminals, so you guys don't end up braking the law"
She smiled and slid something across the table at him saying "There's such a thing as 'plausible deniability' even in this job". He caught it and brought it up to examine it more closely. It was a highly stylized ballistic face mask. It was dark and brooding in appearance, the highly prominent cheek bones and drawn in portion underneath giving it an almost gaunt and skeletal appearance. In low light, in an adrenaline charged atmosphere, and on a fast moving man of his size? It would be nearly monstrous.
He couldn't help but grin as he held it up for her to look at as he said "You're going to have me scaring the shit out of any potential hostages, wearing this"
She grinned back "Yeah, but it also means you'll scare the shit out of anyone else who isn't our friend in that moment either, and in our line of work a psychological edge is critical. The guys we face are often strung out or hopped up on shit, or just so pumped up with excitement that they're often unpredictable. Now I've got the undead and almost unkillable cards in my deck, and that works a lot of the time, so does being fairly hot, with rocking tits like mine"
He smirked at her trademark brazen attitude and she grinned more broadly as she continued "But you've got your size and build, even among a lot of liminals you're a big guy, Newbie. I've watched you too, people may think you're a lumbering bear, but your fast on your feet when you need to be, and when you fight you know how to overwhelm your opponents"
"They call that 'Violence Of Action'" he interjected "You attack faster and more ferociously than your opponent is ready for and keep it up, it's what made the Blitzkrieg so effective for the Nazi Wehrmacht, and Panzer Korps. Same thing with US Abrams Tanks during the first Gulf War. Back in the day guys who were specialized in it were usually called Shock Troops"
"Or even Berserkers" she winked at him "Glad you understand the concept, but don't get me wrong. I'm not going to ask you to go full ham on guys every time we roll into a place, but knowing you can will give me a little extra comfort"
He shook his head with a grin, but when he looked up again her grin was gone and she looked serious. There was no playfulness in her voice when she said "I'm asking this in all seriousness, and, I hope, as your friend, Rob. I hope I can call you a friend, and I hope you will accept this request of mine and be part of this team"
There was a long pause as he thought quietly to himself and she eventually added "It would help up a lot, and you'd be doing some real good with us"
He looked up at her for a moment before smiling and saying "I'm going to want to make some changes in my uniform"
"Deal!" she said beaming. "Now let's start getting you kitted out with some guns!" she said moving back towards the open lockers and gun safes.
"If you wouldn't mind, I'd prefer to choose my own, if that's alright" he said as he caught up to her. She turned and looked a little quizzically at him, but stepped aside and let him start his selection.
He picked up and examined almost 18 different hand guns before finally placing 4 on the table, and then doing much the same with three different shotguns, and then semiautomatic magazine fed rifles.
Zombina walked over and cast an appraising eye over his choices. He'd laid out a Gen4 Glock 41 and Gen5 Glock 21, a SigSauer P227 TacOps, and F&N FNX Tactical, all high capacity pistols chambered in .45 ACP, and designed for tactical and combat work.
"I figured a guy like you would try to carry something like a .50 cal Desert Eagle" she said as she watched him more thoroughly inspect his handgun choices.
"First off, thank you for calling it by its actual name, and not a "Deagle" like every other cringe inducing wannabe badass gamer retard that's never even handled an actual gun in real life, much less seen one" he said not looking up as he began to disassemble both of the Glock pistols with a level of casual familiarity that showed he'd done it more than once before in the past.
Zombina snorted and clapped a hand over her mouth as she suppressed her laughter at his remarks towards gamers and online weebs.
"Secondly, I've carried, and shot a Desert Eagle, and the thing's simply too damn big, heavy, and complicated to be practical. It's a range queen and show piece, great for video games and movies, not so much in woods or on a duty belt. You said we're going to be doing serious work, so I choose pistols actually designed for combat" he finished as he reassembled the two Glocks.
"You know if you're looking for high capacity there's plenty of good 9 millimeters to choose from" she said gesturing to the still open lockers and gun safes.
"I understand and respect that, but I'm also an American man, with American tastes, and the .45ACP is America's pistol round. Plus I can handle the extra weight and recoil just fine" he said looking up and seeing her looking a little puzzled again.
"If you were a felon on probation, how did you get so good with firearms?" she asked.
"Years of experience before hand, and just because I was supposed to stay away from guns and ammo while on probation, doesn't mean I always complied" he smirked as he gave her a wink, and she grinned back, his defiance was infectious.
"I will need you to help me with training though, I know the basics in my head, but real world application is always very different from what you read on paper, and I'll want to be sharp when I first roll out with you and the rest of the girls" he said seriously.
"Well then you better follow me, and bring at least one handgun, rifle, and a shotgun" she said before opening a door and descending a flight of metal and concrete stairs
Rob followed after her, a little awkwardly since he had no holster for the handgun or slings for either of the long guns.
They came into a rather large underground area that as best he could tell was part range with individual shooting lanes and mechanical target holders, part training area with plenty of dummies and movable mannequins for setting up different scenarios to practice, and also part extra security, given the amount of much more military grade weaponry he saw mounted on the wall where Zombina was headed. He spotted a few belt fed machine guns including an M249 SAW, or one of the varieties of an FN Minimi, a CETME Ameli, and what even appeared to be a US Stoner 63 in its LMG configuration. Not too mention several different single shot and rotary magazine 40mm launchers. He then noticed a separate area that held a number of more exotic and/or rare firearms, and assumed that this might be some of Zombinas personal collection (he'd come to learn she was every bit as much of a gun lover as himself). He spotted an AA-12 automatic shotgun, two Armsel Striker "Street Sweepers", a Franchi SPAS-12, a gold tiger striped Desert Eagle, a Mateba Semiauto Revolver, a KAC Chainsaw with an M203 grenade launcher, a cut down Winchester 1887 with an oversized lever loop a la Terminator 2, and he couldn't stop his grin at the last one, for it appeared to USCM M41A1 Pulse Rifle straight out of the movie Aliens.
"Impressed?" Zombina asked, as she noticed his eyes roving over the vast array of unique, and iconic firepower
"You bet your sexy, heart-shaped, undead ass, I am" he said with a chuckle as he laid the guns he'd brought with him down onto the table that sat underneath the gun wall, and drawing a little bit of a blush from Zombina.
He heard gunfire behind him along with short, loud barks from at least 4 different individuals as they communicated with each other in what he assumed was a tactical exercise in the rudimentary looking structure almost all the way across the space from where he and Zombina now stood.
Shouts of "Clear!", "Moving!", "Contact!", "Loading!", and occasionally even "Jam!", could be discerned between pauses and moments of semiautomatic gunfire. He assumed either some other individuals from M.O.N., local law enforcement, or some similar group, were practicing room clearing and hostage rescue operations in what was colloquially termed a "killhouse".
While Zombina got down what she was going to practice with that day, he briefly returned upstairs to grab magazines for the Glock 21 he had chosen as well as for the 14.7 inch barreled LWRCI IC-A5. Most people would recognize it as an "AR-15", or an "assault rifle", but those in the know, understood that it was a serious improvement and evolution of Eugene Stoners seminal success. It's patented short-stroke gas piston action, which it shared in common with the famous H&K 416, was a vast improvement over the original AR's direct impingement system, in terms of reliability, and cleanliness.
Rob had enough experience with long guns that he wasn't too worried about getting up to speed with rifle, and instead chose to focus more on practicing with the Glock. It had been nearly 5 years since he'd last fired any kind of handgun at all, and he wanted to get any kinks out now. He had finished loading his second 13 round magazine and began working on the third when Zombina came over and set an F&N P90 down on the table along with several magazines and began loading them next to him.
He smiled as he said "I see you took my suggestion seriously"
He heard a smile in her voice as she said "Seriously enough that I'm giving it a try for today at least, and if I like it, I'll order a second one"
"Well here's hoping it works out for you" he said finishing the third magazine and beginning the fourth. He was about to ask Zombina if she had any speed loaders that would spare his thumbs when, as if reading his mind, she passed him one, and he thanked her profusely.
If he'd had a leg holster, he would have practiced drawing and firing from it, but as it was he simply needed to get used to the fundamentals of correctly handling and shooting a pistol again. As he took up his position in his own shooting lane at the range area, and after sending the cardboard target with the silhouette about 10 yards down range, he picked up the G21, steadied his breathing, adjusted his stance, and began.
Almost an hour later he'd burned through six, 13rd magazines, and had been glad that he was being allowed this time on the range with Zombina to practice. As he began getting familiar with shooting a handgun again, he was reminded why aftermarket upgrades for parts like triggers, compensators, flared magwells, and other things like grip texturing, and micro red dot sights, were so popular. He wasn't going to try and become John Wick, but a Taran Tactical Innovations Combat Master upgrade kit on this Glock 21 would be pretty nice...
He'd initially run two magazines dry, by slowly taking well aimed shots, one at a time. He had eventually begun running double taps, and then transitioning from one target to another. Since no one else was using the lanes to either side of him, he'd sent two additional silhouettes down and at different distances from the one in front of his lane, and did his best to quickly dump two shots into the center mass of each target, before switching to the others, and even managed to perform a decent slide lock reload without fumbling his new magazine in the process.
Still, he was slower than he wished to be, and was beginning to feel the strain building in his wrists and forearms, not being used to prolonged shooting of a handgun and maintaing proper grip for so long.
As he walked back to where he had left his rifle and rifle mags, he saw their were two other women there, liminals if the large scaly tail of the one, and the red skin of the other were any indicators. They appeared to be in the process of field stripping their own weapons for cleaning and maintenance. Both were wearing black cargo pants, boots, and wore leg holsters for their pistols as well as black plate carriers with multiple rifle magazine pouches attached to the front via MOLLE straps.
The taller of the two turned to glance at him as he closed the last few feet and said to her companion "Bogey approaching at 6 o'clock, sir!"
"Who are you, Marcy from The Peanuts?" he thought to himself, before turning to meet the gaze of the other girl, and for a second his eyes went a bit wide as he thought it was Draco
However upon noting the absence of wings, an inch or two more in height, and a different hair style as well as golden colored eyes instead of blue, he relaxed. The girl still seemed to have noticed his gaze and asked bluntly "What's with the look?"
"Thought you were someone less desirable I know called Draco" he answered equally as blunt. He saw from the look in her face there was a good chance she knew who it was he spoke off and he smirked saying "I see you're not a fan either, and I apologize for any unintentional insult from that comparison"
She smiled just a bit "No insult taken, we do share a resemblance"
"You're still the better woman, sir!" the taller, red skinned girl said beaming happily. Rob glanced at her again, and saw that even though she wore a plate carrier, it was stretched to its max to contain a huge pair of breasts.
"Lord bless and guide me amongst these ranks of liminal women, and their epic bounty of rockin' tits!" he thought to himself. "Tio, Zombina, Miia, Cerea, Rachnera, now this girl...I'm gonna start losing count soon"
At that moment Zombina walked over and said hello to the lizard girl and the red skinned Oni "Hey Liz! Hey Kinu! Making a new friend with the Newbie over there?"
Zombina introduced both of them to Rob and told him that they were both bodyguards with the private security firm TALIO, and that Liz and Kinu were both coming here on a weakly basis to earn licenses so they could carry sidearms while on the job. The other two voices he had heard were the two human men who were essentially their bosses. They were also keeping up to date on their training. Rob learned that apparently at some point in the past Draco had tried to put the moves on Liz, although with as much success as Rob had had with trying to consume Miias cooking.
Since Draco was technically within his care in a certain sense, he kept mute on the fact that he was counseling her in therapy, despite the fact that he thought Liz would get a kick out of hearing how he'd pretty much mopped the floor with Dracos scaly butt.
Both said that they were on a time table however, and needed to get their firearms properly cleaned and stored upstairs, before they had to head out for a job, and so bid both Zombina and Rob farewell.
Zombina tossed him a simple chest rig complete with six magazine pouches and told him to grab his rifle and follow her over to the now unoccupied killhouse.
Upon arriving at the killhouse, Zombina asked Rob how much experience he had in room clearing, and forcible entry. He promptly responded "Other than what I've seen portrayed, probably incorrectly, in movies, and read about from time to time, none"
"You big nerd" Zombina snorted and grinned.
She had him take a seat in a folding chair in front of a white board, and handed him a pen and a wire bound notebook, before beginning his education. She first went through all the proper signals and phrases, as well as when, and how to use them. After that she began drawing rough representations of simple rectangular rooms, and indicated where doors, windows, bad guys and hostages would be, before using a pointer to walk him through how he and her as a two person team would function.
Given his greater size and strength, she told him to always assume, unless otherwise discussed ahead of time, that he was to be the "Breacher", meaning his initial duty would center on clearing any door in the way, whether with a portable ram, a shotgun loaded with specialized breaching rounds, or even something a bit more "spicy", as Zombina put it.
Rob was amazed at the amount of knowledge, terminology, and practical insight Zombina was conveying to him. Not only that, he seemed to be understanding and retaining it fairly well, too. She used terms he'd heard before such as the "fatal funnel", "slicing the pie" and "getting off the X", but not only did she use the terms, but explained them to him in a way that was easily understandable and made sense. Zombina had always struck him as a trigger happy, hot head, with a "shoot first" mentality. However it seemed that she knew her job well, and made sure anyone who was going to load up and run into gunfire with her, was going to know their stuff just as well as she did.
He was shocked when the "classroom" portion ended and he realized nearly two hours had gone by. Handing him his rifle Zombina ordered him to unload the magazine, before clearing the chamber. Once she knew his weapon was safe, she unloaded her own, and told him to ready himself outside the door of the killhouse as if he were stacking up to breach, with her taking up position behind him.
She had him walk slowly through the door and then through all the rooms, applying what he had just been taught, calmly talking him through his actions and coaching him as he performed them. He learned how to properly move, kneel, rise, and maneuver while properly keeping aware of his surroundings, teammates, and engaging threats. She had him do this over, and over again, drilling him and helping build muscle memory through consistent repetition. After about a dozen "dry runs", she had him load one empty magazine into his rifle, and three empty ones into the pouches on his chest rig.
When she had him go through the rooms again this time, she had him call out -bang!- for each time he would have pulled the trigger, and at random she would call out things like "jam", "double-feed", "stove pipe", or "failure to eject", and he would be forced to go through the proper procedure of how to correct whatever malfunction she called out, to her satisfaction.
Another two hours had passed before Zombina said it was time for them to call it for the day, and then grinned at him "You learn fast, Newbie! Looks like fighting's in your blood!"
Grinning back, Rob adopted the voice of a particular cartoon robot, with a unique "in-your-face" interface, as he said "Shut up, baby! I know it!"
Zombina snorted before cackling merrily at his response. Shaking her head she turned and motioned with her hand for him to follow her, still laughing happily.
He felt good as he walked behind her. Fatigued, and a little sore, but capable and ready. Bold. Confident. Dangerous...
"I think you might get a kick out of this..." she said with a grunt as she lifted what looked like a tactical steamer trunk up from where it had sat underneath the wall of machine guns, launchers, and unique firearms.
He couldn't make out the bold yellow katakana, but did make out the large English script stenciled in the same yellow color, branding whatever was in this container "CROWD CONTROL".
"Open it up, and take a look" Zombina said with a smile as she stepped back to let Rob have more room to do as she said. He opened the case and felt his eyes all but pop out of his head as he realized what he was looking at. "Jesus..." he whispered softly.
"Go ahead and pick it up!" she said with a giggle that made her sound like girl laughing shyly in the presence of someone she had a crush on. He gingerly reached in and wrapped the fingers of his left hand across the top mounted "chainsaw grip" that ran obliquely to, and just above, the cluster of the six barrels housed in a futuristic hexagonal covering, while his right hand gripped the modified looking pistol grip that acted as his grip and trigger, before lifting the whole, nearly 28 inch long mechanized beast from the foam that surrounded it.
He took a step back and gawked down at what he was holding. Most would know it as a "minigun" or "Gatling gun", the and they would be more or less correct. Those with more specific knowledge, would recognize it as one of prototype XM556 Microguns made by Empty Shell. Essentially an updated and scaled down version of the famous M134 Minigun made famous during Vietnam, and arguably even more so later when used handheld for the first time ever by Jesse Ventura in the 1987 cult classic film, Predator, and then again 4 short years later by Arnold Schwarzenegger in the world famous blockbuster sequel Terminator 2: Judgement Day. However unlike the minigun, which was not capable of being fired with any real amount of success by anyone short of superhuman strength and weight, due to its 361lbs. of recoil generated back thrust; to say nothing of the immense weight of ammo that would be required to feed it for more than just a few seconds, and the equally immense weight of batteries needed to power it, The Microgun, being chambered in 5.56x45mm NATO, instead of the larger 7.62x51mm NATO, along with a few other tweaks, solved most of these issues, and while meant to be a mounted weapon system, was capable of being fired handheld.
With this complete system, a man his size and strength, could single handedly (after A LOT of practice mastering it) deploy a weapon with a blistering fire rate of anywhere from 3000 to 6000 rounds per minute. Something so fierce that it had its own term, "withering fire".
Grinning to beat the band (as the small percentage of his Irish ancestors would have said) Zombina said "It's definitely you" before adding "What do you think?"
To which Rob answered, "I think if I answer honestly you'll not only be allowed claim sexual harassment in the workplace on me, but I might give you the wrong impression at the same time..."
After her laughter died down and she straightened back up, he asked the question burning in his mind, "How the fuck did you get this piece of hardware!?"
She smiled as she had him put it back in the case, before she closed and latched it shut again saying "Never you mind about that, just know that if, God forbid, we ever need it, you're using this thing. It's too big and heavy for me, and Tio refuses to do it"
While the red blooded, gung-ho, meat eating American, and gun lover in him squealed like a tween at a Bieber concert in 2012 at the thought of being allowed to fire such a kickass weapon, the logical and rational side of him sincerely prayed the day would never come where he might have to in the line of duty.
"You really are something else, Zombina" Rob said with a grin "And I mean that in a good way, as your friend"
"You know Doppel an' me, like to think that you're are friend, too" she said a bit more genuinely than was usual before adding "And Tio's not the only one who worries about you either, you know?"
"I know Zombina, and I thank you, and Doppel both, it means a lot to me, really" he said feeling a happy warmth growing inside him
"So Doppel n' I got to talkin' on what we could do for you as a favor to maybe help get you outta yer funk, and we decided we'd set you up on a date!" Zombina said, patting Rob affectionately on his back like a sister would with her brother.
The warmth suddenly vanished, and he tensed and felt his eye twitch as he turned to face her "You're joking..."
"No need to thank us! It's just what friends do! In fact we had so much success settin' you up with the first girl, we went ahead and set you up with 'nother 2 after that!" she beamed.
"You WHAT!?"
"Chill out, Newbie" Zombina grinned as she walked over to where she had left her P90 and he had left his G21 "There just dates, it's not like you'll be forced to go steady with any of them, it's just going to be a sorta 'meet n' greet' kind of deal, that's all"
"God help me..." he thought to himself as he removed the slide from the frame of the pistol and then removed the recoil spring assembly, and then the barrel itself, before grabbing a cleaning rod, cleaning jag, cotton patches and cleaning solution. He said nothing as he went about cleaning the grime and powder residue from the inside of the barrel, before finally running an oiled patch through it, and then moving on to cleaning the recoil spring assembly, the rest of the slide, and frame. The great thing about Glocks, were that they were not finicky and did not need to be babied. In the field, so long as you occasionally wiped off most of the grime inside the slide and frame, kept the barrel as clean as you could, and put a few drops of oil along the metal contact points of the slide and frame, they would run. YouTube had to have well over one million "Glock Torture Test" videos by now.
The entire time he worked, Zombina was watching him from the corner of her eye. She admired the skill, and dexterity of his hands. She hadn't said as much to any of the other girls, but she had found his skills with knitting and crochet almost as interesting as Tio had, though for different reasons. She admired technical skill in a man, and he certainly had it, the fact that he was easy going with her, had a great sense of humor, made her laugh, and was as big a gun nerd as her, was starting to make her think differently about him more and more.
"You know, the key to trying to watch someone on the sly, is to make it look like you're not really doing it" he said not looking over at her as he wiped down the carbon fouling from the inside of pistol slide.
"What the! H-how do you know I'm watching you!?" she huffed, hating that she was blushing.
"Your hands haven't done anything with your gun, other than sort of fondle it, and run over it. You're not focused on your task, so you're clearly focused on something else, and seeing as if you were just thinking you could still disassemble and clean your weapon, and I'm the only other thing around at the moment, deductive reasoning gives me the rest of the puzzle" he said as he replaced the barrel in the slide, followed by the spring assembly, before finally replacing the slide back on the frame, and racking it back and forth several times to make sure everything was replaced and seated properly, while also working the oil along the bearing surfaces. Flicking the slide release with his thumb, he let the slide return to battery, before placing an empty magazine back into the gun, then setting it down.
He turned to face her, and she felt her artificial pulse quicken, as she locked her eyes with his. Their steel blue was intense and yet hypnotic somehow...and she began to realize how close he was too her, just how tall he really was, and how big and strong he was too...she could hide herself completely behind the bulk of this man. "Is there anything you want to say to me?" he asked softly
"N-n-not right now..." she whispered.
He gazed for a moment longer into her eyes before he nodded and grabbed his firearms saying "I'll be upstairs putting these away if you need me for anything", and then he was striding towards the steps, before going up and leaving her alone. She took a deep breath and stared down at the small PDW on the table top before her, wondering what the hell was going on with her.
The drive back to the apartment complex had been a bit awkward, Zombina being unusually quiet and reserved, quite the opposite of how she had been on the way to the range earlier that day. Rob wondered if he had upset her or made her uncomfortable somehow, but didn't want to ask while she was driving, so he merely sat in silence. Manako was happy to chat with him and he talked with her, asking how her range session had gone. She had told him how she had received some custom ordered ammunition that had been loaded to her specification, and she was extremely pleased with the results she had gotten that day, and would be putting in another order for more once they got back to the apartment complex.
After they all exited the elevator and began walking back towards their respective rooms, he spotted Doppel hovering along the hallway. She smiled when she spotted him and asked "Did Zombina give you the good news?"
"Oh yeah, and you, her, and I, are going to have a talk about that later" he said trying not to sound toogrumpy as he strode past her to his room.
After he had showered and changed into more comfortable lounge wear, he went back into the hall, and paused at the door for Tios room. He took a few deep breaths to steady himself before knocking on her door, and taking a step back. She opened the door a moment later, and though she looked a little surprised, she smiled down happily at him and asked "What is it, Rob-kun?"
"I have an answer for you...from earlier" he said awkwardly.
"Okay?" she said and waited for him to give her his response.
"Would you...that is, would you mind if we-" he began when the elevator door opened and Smith walked out, and upon seeing Rob strode over saying "Glad I found you so quickly, there's an assignment I need you to do, Rob!"
He hung his head a groaned loudly.
"OH, COME ON!"
He turned and looked to Smith, "What is it?" he asked flatly.
"How well do you do on dairy farms?" she asked with that trademarked mischievous look on her face.
"I grew up around farms, why?" he said furrowing his brow in confusion.
"There's a ranch with a few individuals on it that I'll need you to check in with for a couple of days, so make sure you pack an overnight bag..."
(( Well if you haven't been able to figure it out by the time you're reading this, I'm a bit of a gun aficionado, and therefore so is Rob.
If reading this comes as a surprise to you, than... what the hell, man? Did... did you just skip all the way down to the notes first, or just not read the chapter?
No, I'm not weird! YOU'RE weird!
Anyway! All joking aside, I am a firearms enthusiast, and pro 2nd Amendment individual. If this level of gun use and depiction upsets you, and you no longer feel that this story is worth reading, I am sorry that's how you feel and wish you well on your way.
But for those of you who are still reading, let me please, PLEASE ask you something with all absolute seriousness. DO NOT attempt to replicate anything depicted in this chapter, or any of the previous or following chapters, unless you are on an approved range, with proper protective gear, obeying all the standard gun safety rules, and are being seen over by properly vetted and licensed safety instructors.
I firmly hold that gun ownership is an inherent and inalienable human right, not some privilege to be "allowed" or "revoked" by any type of government entity(and DO NOT be that person in the comments who suddenly thinks I just said that even criminals should be allowed guns because of that statement, let's use a little common sense everyone, OK?).
HOWEVER, gun safety is NO JOKE, and should always be properly observed, and implemented so that neither you, or anyone around you is put in unnecessary danger while you enjoy your God given right to bear arms.
Also, before anyone gripes about Robs felony status and the huge can of worms him carrying and using firearms, let me reiterate a very important fact. This is a FICTIONAL STORY. I humbly ask that if you have, for some reason, not already tempered your expectations and belief of what is going to be portrayed as reality, that you do so now. This is supposed to be fun and even a little bit of escapist entertainment, and if you cannot handle, or will not tolerate that, than I will politely ask you to just simply stop reading the story.
Alright now having already run the risk of having been too preachy, please allow me to step down off of my soapbox, and thank all of you still ready to stick with this to the conclusion and express my hope that I am still doing a good job of portraying your favorite characters in the Monster Musume universe. I hope this chapter also gave you all a little peak into what will be coming up in the future of this story, and that I have whet your appetites for more! ))