Page 110 of Destroyer
Tucker chuffed out a laugh. “You can’t keep a low profile forever, darlin’. Cream always rises to the top.” He winked.
Teddy glanced at Sydney and a hit of energy powered through him.
At the Black Site, she’d changed into a black shirt and black pants, covered her torso in body armor. On her feet, she’d worncombat boots. Though Sydney had sat in the back of the SUV with Caroline, she’d worn a short, auburn wig. She’d hidden her eyes behind oversized sunglasses and wrapped a winter scarf over her nose and mouth, keeping her face concealed.
Sydney Austin looked like a one-woman SWAT team with a rifle strapped over her chest, her weapon’s bag in her hand.
Though Teddy encouraged everyone on the BLACK OPS team to wear their body armor, the only other person wearing Kevlar was Sydney. He’d heard too many friendly-fire stories where someone at target practice had gotten hit with a live round. When it came to firearms, Teddy wasn’t messing around. They were playing with 9mm rounds.
Only, they weren’t playing. This was serious business.
“Tank, my man,” Tucker said shaking his hand. “You look bigger and stronger every time I see you. Now that I think about it, I haven’t seen much of you lately. Where you been hidin’?”
“Been gone,” was all Teddy said.
“Alrighty,” Tucker said. “The range is yours. In an hour, the team in Tucker Town’ll be finishin’ up. Once it clears, y’all can take ownership of it. And just to confirm, it’s paintball pellets, right?”
“Yes,” Greystone replied.
The team made their way toward the firing range. Before entering, they pulled on their noise-canceling ear protection and their eyewear.
There were nine stations, but the group had become so large, most doubled-up. Hawk and Addison in lane one. Slash in lane two. Prescott, lane three. Rebel and Brit in lane four. Stryker and Emerson, lane five. Sin and Dakota took lane six. Greystone and Caroline in lane seven. When he walked into lane eight, Sydney shot him a sly smile before taking ownership of lane nine.
He set his gun bag on the back shelf, removed his Glock and a package of rounds, then back into his lane. The paper targets had been attached to each mechanical pulley in every lane. Teddy adjusted it back to ten yards, checked the gun’s magazine, and added more bullets. He racked the gun, took his position, and opened fire.
BANG-BANG-BANG-BANG- BANG-BANG-BANG-BANG!
Despite the ear protection, the percussion of the fire power in that room reverberated through him. He could feel it as much as he could hear it. Muffled, somewhat, but impactful nonetheless.
The room was filled with some of the most skilled marksmen he’d ever met, but when Sydney moved the target back, he set down his weapon, stepped out of his lane and watched her. She took her position, placed her hands on her SIG Sauer, and she opened fire, unleashing the bullets at the paper target thirty yards away.
He flicked his gaze from her to the target.
Holy hell.
Every round pierced the center Then, she stopped firing, sent the target back farther, and opened fire again. This time, she pierced the target in the head, the hips, the groin.
Ouch.
There wasn’t an errant shot in the round. Rather than stand there and gawk, he returned to his lane, took up his stance, raised his weapon. Using the red laser on his Glock, he homed in on the target. Instead of shooting the center of the target, he focused on the small target at the head. And he opened fire, piercing the center of the small, red circle.
Nothing left but a gaping hole in the paper. He continued until he’d shredded the paper with bullet holes. He set down his weapon, tapped the button, the target slid toward him. He replaced the paper with a new one and sent it back forty yards.
The practice rounds continued until someone tapped his shoulder. He stopped firing, set the Glock on the small shelf in front of him, and turned to see Greystone pointing to his watch. On a nod, Teddy secured his Glock in his weapon’s bag.
No loaded weapons in Tucker Town during paintball practice.
After stepping into the small room between the firing range and the rest of the building, he scanned the group. Sin and Dakota were still in the range, so they waited. Once the brothers had joined them, they exited.
Off came their eye and ear protection.
“Sydney, you kicked some ass in there,” Teddy said.
She shot him a smile. “You’re damn good yourself, Santini.”
“Keep your ear protection with you,” Greystone reminded them.
After securing their weapon bags in the locker rooms, Tucker escorted them through the building, out the back door, and into the autumn afternoon. Waiting on the benches were jumpsuits, full-on tactical masks with goggles, and gloves. Tucker reviewed the rules of engagement.
