The Black Guard: Book II: Evolution (Black Guard Series 2) (25 page)

"Thank you, Gunny, but I'm dressed
adequately."

He shrugged. "Sergeant Nagy, whenever you're
ready."

Sergeant Nagy smiled and waved for me to move closer to
him. When I did, he began giving orders and the boarding party began moving into
the bay with me following.

It took an hour to clear the ship of raiders. During
that time, I got hit four times—at least three on purpose—and
totally enjoyed the experience. I was right to have participated, because there
was no way talking about the exercise could have conveyed the actual
experience. The raiders had set up explosive charges, and they conducted
multiple ambushes as the boarding team made its way through the ship.

"Captain Sapir, are you hurt?" Colonel Odelia
asked when he saw my splattered suit. Yarden and the three sergeants were
trying unsuccessfully to restrain grins.

"No, sir. Getting hit helps with the realism,"
I said, smiling for reassurance.

"Well, Captain Sapir, what do you think?" Alaniz
asked.

"The exercise was just what I needed to understand
your environment. Before we come up with a final curriculum, I'm going to need
more exercises and your help in understanding the complexities involved."
I held up my hand to stop any comments. "But tomorrow I'd like to be the
lead in the boarding party," I said, which elicited grins and obvious
excitement.

* * *

"Corporals Currin and Bittner are assigned to
dismantle any explosives and identify likely traps … are you sure you don't
want a few troops for backup?" Gunny Ezell asked, frowning. "And what
about coveralls? The paint will wash out, but …"

"I'm sure, Gunny. I want to experience what the
lead man does, and the coveralls may give me a sense that it's a game rather
than the real thing. The referees understand that when I'm killed, I'll want to
continue like a new trooper?"

"Yes, they have been briefed. Ma'am, that uniform
is going to make those … raiders try harder … and you have no face
protection." The gunny actually looked worried.

"Thank you, Gunny, for the warning. I understand
the risk, but I'm trying to make the exercise as close to the real experience
as possible. I believe working inside a permanent structure and a spaceship
should be similar. I'm hoping this exercise will help me determine how similar
and identify how they differ." I grinned. "Besides, Gunny, you know
everyone is looking forward to watching a Black Guard get painted."

"Yes, ma'am, but General Lerman …"

"I'm not here to prove the Black Guard is better
than the marines. I'm here to see if you can benefit from our techniques. We
are all Jax and equal. No one death is any more or less important than another.
So, let's get on with the entertainment."

"Yes, ma'am." He waved to the sergeant in
charge of the raiders, who entered the ship smiling and shouting with
excitement.

I noticed Colonel Odelia standing off to the side with
Yarden, who looked worried, whereas Odelia looked amused.

Ten minutes later, the gunny's Comm beeped.

"They're ready, Captain."

I nodded to Currin and Bittner and walked through the
open bay.

A door to the inside corridor banged open and a man with
an Mfw in his hands stepped through.

I fired, hitting him in the faceplate before he could
bring his weapon to bear on me.

The barrel of a gun poked past the edge of the door.

I waited until a head peeked from around the corner, and
hit him in the head with a shot. I ran to the door and scanned the hallway. It
was empty.

"What now?" I asked the two men behind me.
They looked at the two raiders with their faceplates splattered with paint and
then at me with open mouths. Finally Currin spoke.

"Normally, we would go first and the troops would
provide us cover."

"All right, go. I'll provide your cover," I
said, stepping out into the corridor. Currin and Bittner slid in front of me
and began a slow walk while scanning the area with handheld devices.

About thirty meters later, the barrel of a weapon poked
through an open door.

"Stop," I said softly in my headset. The two
froze. I waited patiently for a head to appear. When it did, I fired, scoring a
direct hit. No one else appeared. I walked to within several meters of the door,
then ran past the door, firing two shots at the two individuals I could see as
I passed.

They fired, but only after I had passed the door. It
takes the mind a second or two to react, even when you are prepared to act.

Before the referee could check the two I had fired at, I
slid into the room and shot the man who it looked like I might only have
wounded.

He fired at the same time I did but waist high, hitting
the referee in the chest.

I rose while the referee, a sergeant, was shouting at
the corporal who shot him, and waved Currin and Bittner forward.

They dismantled two traps as we moved through the crews'
quarters. When I entered the weapons compartment, it appeared empty, but there
was a lot of equipment and partially hidden areas.

I was about a quarter into the room when four men rose, standing
some five meters apart.

I didn't attempt to move, just fired at them from left
to right. I hit all four in the kill zone, but the last one managed to shoot
simultaneously with me and two of the five bullets from his spray hit me, one
in the arm and one in the kill zone.

The referee noted the kills, then pronounced me alive
again.

Bittner found a trap just before the entrance to the
environmental section, which left us exposed in the hallway.

As he worked on dismantling the device, two men rushed
into the hallway. They were dead before they could bring their weapons to bear
on me, but one did manage to fire a burst and one pellet did strike my leg. A
third man's hands appeared with an Mfw.

Thinking he was just going to spray the area and hope to
get lucky, I shot his hand and the weapon with two successive shots.

The referee ruled I hadn't been killed this time, only
wounded.

I killed two more as we continued working our way
through mostly empty sections. I estimated there were six more waiting in the
merchant's cargo area, based on the number I had encountered so far.

When we reached the entrance, I signaled to Bittner to
open the door, and I flung one flash star after another into the room and
turned away and covered my eyes. I smiled at the cacophony of weapons firing simultaneously
and the impact of paint bullets hitting walls, doors, and occasionally a
person. On the count of five, I slid into the room, located individuals, and delivered
killing shots to the head. I had received paint splatter but no wounds or
killing shots.

"That's damn sneaky, Captain," Sergeant Nagy
said with a toothy grin. "I want a case of those on our next boarding. I
still can't see clearly."

"Don't rub your eyes. It will wear off within ten
minutes so long as you don't rub them." I followed the referee back to the
bay and out. When I walked out with my uniform splattered with color, I got a
lot of laughs and clapping.

When everyone had assembled, the referees recounted the
action in each section and the kills.

"That was certainly impressive, Captain. Is the
Talon class supposed to teach the candidates how to shoot like the Black
Guard?" Colonel Odelia asked. I had the feeling he was playing devil's
advocate, stating the question everyone had on his or her mind.

"No. Although it's possible, it would take years of
practice. No, I would like to change the present mindset from spray-and-hope to
one-shot-only."

"What do you mean?" Alaniz asked.

"Today when you qualify on the range, you shoot in
bursts. If one of the ten bullets hits in the kill zone, then you consider that
a hundred percent. I want Talons to consider they missed nine times out of
ten."

"Why? They killed the opponent."

"If the opponent is willing to stand still and not
fire when you shoot at him, then yes you will have killed the opponent. But
your opponent is moving in and out of compartments and shooting back. In that
case, only the first bullet or maybe the second count. The other eight or nine
are a waste of ammo. And if you are both shooting, the winner will be the one
whose killing bullet is the first of the burst of ten. For the army fighting
out in the open, bursts are adequate. But inside a building or ship, only the
first bullet counts. If you miss, your enemy gets a turn. I want Talons to
consider the first bullet the only one that counts."

* * *

I stood with Colonel Berger in front of one hundred
marines from the third Airborne Marine Division, which Berger commanded.

"This is Captain Sapir of the Black Guard. Most of
you know her or are familiar with her or have heard stories about her. She will
be certifying ten of you to be on the first Talon Team—the team that
enters the enemies' ship first and kicks ass. The program is voluntary, so
those that aren't interested in proving they are the best of the best can
leave," Berger said to hoots and laughs. He then nodded to me.

"We're not looking to create an old Japanese
Kamikaze group to storm the enemy ship in a suicide frenzy, but an elite group
with special training to help minimize injuries and deaths. We will start with
a competition to select the twenty who will constitute the first class from
which the first team will be selected."

I clicked on my Mfi and sent a list with each individual's
scheduled times.

"Your communications should have the times for each
of you to report to the firing range this afternoon. There will be three
rounds. The first round will be untimed shooting at standing targets. Those
judged qualified will go to the second round, where the target will be moving
or partially hidden and the exercise will be timed. The third round will be a
combination of standing, partially hidden, and moving targets—but with
you shooting from the hip or waist. The best twenty or so will start class
tomorrow."

The smiling faces had disappeared for the most part as they
realized qualifying wasn't going to be easy.

* * *

"I'm embarrassed," Berger said, shaking his
head. "We're so used to automatic weapons delivering bursts of ten
projectiles per second that people have forgotten to aim. They watch the stream
of metal and direct it to the target. Most are having a terrible time hitting
the target."

"It's a mentality that I need to change for the
Talon team. In the open, firing in a burst works, but inside a structure with
doors and rooms it means you miss a lot, so your opponent gets more
opportunities to shoot back. It's just fortunate your opponent is also relying
on bursts."

Berger laughed. "This is long overdue, Sapir.
General Lerman is right calling you the agent of change. I hear we are going to
get Black Guard shuttles to maintain and crew for you."

"Yes, maintaining, flying, and operating the systems
is more your expertise. No reason for us to try and develop it any more than
marines should train to guard clients inside buildings."

"Or out," Berger added. "Inter-group
cooperation. Maybe the idea will catch on. General Isaac certainly likes it. Why
shooting from the waist?" he asked, shaking his head as he watched
projectiles hitting almost everything except the targets.

"Takes less time. If a person peeks out of a
doorway, by the time you raise your weapon his head is gone."

"Makes sense. Let's get something to eat and drink.
It's going to be a long night grading those targets."

Berger was right. It took us over twelve hours to select
the twenty-two I felt had the potential to qualify, which at this point I had no
idea what constituted
qualifying
. In
fact, the twenty-two candidates would determine that—the best ten would
be qualified.

* * *

"You have been determined to be the best of the
hundred, but before you pat yourselves on the back, the results weren't impressive."

"I guess you can do better," a staff sergeant
said with a sneer.

Berger looked ready to say something but stopped when I
shook my head.

"That is not a criticism of you as individuals but
of your qualifying criteria, training, and automatic weapons. We're going to
start by developing qualifying criteria."

"You don't have qualifying criteria? Sounds like
you don't know what you're doing," said a master sergeant.

Berger looked ready to skin him alive but said nothing.

"I know what I'd like, but it is going to depend
upon what I can reasonably expect from you. Follow me and I'll give you an
example of what I mean."

I led them to the firing line, where Yarden had set
targets based on a configuration I had outlined. The targets ranged from
fifteen to thirty meters away; none of the targets had more than parts of
bodies showing; half were stationary and half bobbed in and out.

The candidates stood there with their mouths open, eyes
wide, and deathly quiet.

"In the ideal, qualifying should require you to hit
each target in the kill or disable zone with no more than a two-second delay
between targets."

That produced groans and mumbling to the effect of
that's impossible
.

"No, that is not impossible, and Colonel Berger
should expect the Talon team to achieve that result in a year or two." I
waved toward Yardan, who smiled. "Captain Yarden has created a timed
exercise which he hasn't shared with me. When …" I looked around and pointed.
"Master Sergeant Sayre waves to him, he will start the routine." I
nodded to Yarden and all the targets lit.

When I stepped to the firing line, the lights went off.
I waited, my mind quiet. A light flashed on one target some thirty-meters away
and a second later, a man's head and shoulders appeared with an Mfw. I shot him
in the head. Two seconds later, a target fifteen meters away lit. It had an
automatic weapon and a hand sticking out from a door. I shot the hand. The
exercise continued for less than a minute and included fifteen targets. When I
finished, I let the group walk around and inspect the targets.