A Treasure of Their Own

They boarded a small chartered jet at 9:35 p.m. and landed at Kirtland, AFB, in Albuquerque, NM at precisely 12:00 a.m. The four of them went straight to one of the TDY hotels close by and got to the firing range at 0700 hrs.

  The range safety officer met them at the entrance to the firing range and escorted them to their pre-arranged spot. He had reserved them a spot close to the outer perimeter of the range that allowed targets as far away as 1,500 meters. This part of the range was mostly used by those serious marksmen that wanted to hone their skills or bragging rights.

  As they all exited their vehicles, they gathered around the safety officer's truck, with the exception of Sgt. Hutchins. He opened the trunk of the car and began gathering the boxes of ammunition and carrying them over to the firing line. The safety officer announced as he put his hand on the two boxes, "Here, gentlemen, is what you asked for, an M24 and the new Win-Mag .300. Sgt. Bennett, take your choice, choose both if you'd like, but bring me the appropriate documents to keep on file."

  "It'll be my pleasure, sir," he answered as he shook the officer's hand. Then he turned to Taylor, folded his arms and said with a little bit louder voice, "Sgt. Sanders, you and Sgt. Rodriquez step forward and grab a weapon."

  "Sergeant?"

  "Wow! You can hear when you want to, young lady. You might say that when my father pulls rank.....he PULLS rank. It's basically a field promotion," he answered as a way of explanation. Then, he got serious, "Like I've said before, Dad's counting on you two a lot. Something is not as it should be and we can't put our fingers on it."

  Ramon spoke for them both as he answered, "We won't hold back one iota, sir. You have our word on it."

  "Thanks, Ramon," he said. He looked at Taylor and pointed to the first box and stated, "This one is the M24 SWS. It's a modified version of the one you used in the Guard.” He reached over and opened up the other one for them to see as he continued, "But, this one is the latest thing to hit the market, the XM2010. Some call it the Win-Mag .300. It's a revamped M24 with a sound suppressor and muzzle brake. It reduces the recoil and the audible and visible signature of the weapon. It can shoot farther and shoot THROUGH more than the M24. The scope compensates for bullet drop and can be fitted for night vision, should you ever need it. And, if you’re chosen for this assignment, you will most definitely need it. Whether you’re accepted or not, you would be best advised to learn about it, play with it and become completely at ease with it. It could be your best friend someday. Or, should I say, some night."

  Taylor stepped over to the XM2010 and took it out of its case. "Mercy, this looks and feels like a formidable weapon, Sergeant," she commented as she looked it over. "How long has this thing been out?"

  Sgt. Hutchins answered, "It's not."

  Taylor and Ramon looked at him simultaneously.

  "Not officially," he continued. "We're hoping to get full implementation by the end of this year, maybe early next year. It'll be a real boost for us in our efforts in Afghanistan."

  As Taylor looked at Sgt. Bennett to ask him a question, he anticipated it by answering, "We want you two to do two things for us right now. First of all, zero the M24 in and get some practice up to 1500 yards. Then, let's see what you can do with the XM2010. Basically, give us your evaluation of it. You'll be the first female to handle it so far and we would be interested in how you can handle it."

  And you could ask him at any time you want, but this non-com-poop had to ruin a good conversation. He smiled at her as he finished by saying, "Little Bit."

  "Hey, Bennett, you said the wrong.......," but Sgt. Hutchins didn't get a chance to finish.

  Taylor pushed the weapon into his gut and with an astonished look on her face demanded, "Where did you get that name from?"

  His face turned crimson as he looked for words, "I don't know ...it seemed ......"

  She had a smile but the look on her face and the tone of her voice told everyone in ear shot that a volcano was beginning to erupt. "Boy, your dad's got a big mouth, you know it.” She stepped over and picked up the M24 and turned to face him again. "I can understand 'Tater-head' from Tish. That's a play on my name. I DON'T understand 'Little Bit' from Tom Dandridge. Look at me. Does ANYTHING look like a little bit?” She reached over and pinched a pretty big inch of his stomach.

  As a surprised "Ooopf" escaped out of his mouth, she stepped closer and got into his face as she demanded, "Don't answer that and keep your eyes on the target, not on me ...sport.” As she turned to walk toward the ammo table, she gave Ramon his orders, "C'mon, 'Mone. You men are all alike. Including you. I'm sure you've called me a couple of adjectives, too."

  He answered with a smile, "I'll be right there, Precious."

  Without looking back, Taylor looked at the ground as she walked and shook her head. Sgt. Hutchins was right behind her with several boxes of cartridges.

  Ramon smiled at a chuckling Sgt. Bennett and said, "If you're gonna be around her a lot, let me give you some advice. Either lose some of that gut or stand more than an arm's length away from her........Sir."

  The range safety officer chuckled as he got back into his truck, "Bennett, I don't think that I am needed here anymore. I'll just mosey on back to the office. Stop by on your way out."

  "Thanks, Jack, I'll do that."

  Ramon trotted up to Taylor and threw his arm around her shoulders. She put the weapon in her other hand and put her arm around his waist. They exchanged glances and chuckles. Everything was OK. She was just in her 'Taylor' form. He knew that she was feeling more at ease with Sgt. Bennett. AND, the fact that she took the liberty to pop off at him was a good sign that she had accepted him as an 'OK' human being even if he was a man. If a guy got under her skin enough to get her quiet and make her face turn red, HE was about to assume the prone position.

  As Taylor and Ramon went about the task of sighting-in the M24, Sgt. Hutchins began filling up the 5 round magazines. Taylor got down into the prone position and began stabilizing the M24 for sighting-in. Ramon reached into his home-made ruck sack and pulled out a small plastic gizmo with Velcro straps and a pen hanging from it. He strapped the gizmo to his leg, slid a small booklet of paper into it and sat down cross legged by Taylor. He reached into the sack again and brought out a pair of binoculars.

  The two sergeants watched each movement with interest. There was little talk between Taylor and Ramon. Both of them acted like they had played out this routine hundreds of times. An airman arrived in a pretty beat-up looking golf cart loaded down with paper targets. He handed Sgt. Hutchins a Nextel looking phone. "Three at 100," he told the airman.

  "Yes, sir," was the reply and the airman drove off. After he placed the targets firmly in their places, he drove the cart to a sheltered spot and waited further orders. Conveniently, he had brought his CD player, headphones, a lunch and a thermos of coffee. He'd done this before, obviously.

  Ramon took notes after each shot was fired. He let the first three go without much adjusting. After the third shot was fired, he reached over and adjusted her scope a couple of clicks. Two more shots and she had to change the magazine. After she settled back in, he adjusted for wind age. After she squeezed off a couple of shots, he said, "Run it to the right like it was toilet paper."

  The sergeants were standing behind them with their own sets of binoculars. They would hear the shots, see where it hit and hear Taylor giggle. Each shot was one to two inches away from the previous one and she WAS perforating it like a piece of toilet paper.

  "Go to the next one," Ramon said, "and pull a Daniel Boone."

  "You got it, Gooberhead."

  The Sergeants watched as she hit the little black dot with shot after shot. "That's enough," Sgt. Bennett shouted out. He whispered into Sgt. Hutchins ear and he stepped out of earshot to give the airman in the golf cart his assignment. As the airman set out on his errand, Sgt. Bennett pulled a laser range finder out of his briefcase. "Have you ever used one of these?" he asked Ramon.

  "Not one that fancy, sir," he answered as he took it
out of the sergeant's hands.

  Sgt. Bennett took a few moments to get him familiar what the range finder and then turned him loose. "I've told the airman to put several of those targets at random spots and different angles. We're going to put the two of you to the test."

  Ramon looked at Taylor. She just shrugged her shoulders. He looked back and said, "OK."

  "Before you get back to shooting, let me ask you something. Why did you adjust the sights for Taylor?"

  "I'm better at it than she is and we can get a weapon sighted faster. Also, the thought occurred to us that in a real-life situation, she could keep her eyes on the target better if I adjust it for her. It was just a thought."

  The two sergeants looked at each other until Sgt. Hutchins finally commented, "I've never seen it done that way, but I've got to admit, it does make some kind of sense. And, in a real-life-and-death situation, you know ...it just might have its merits. BUT, getting it to fly by Sgt. Givens is another war."

  They were all surprised at Taylor's answer, "We're not here to fight Sgt. Givens, Sir. I don't want to do anything to step in front of our opportunity to go on this mission. But, when we're out there against the enemy, whatever it takes to get the job done, that's what we'll do."

  Sgt. Bennett looked at his training partner and said, "You can't ask for anything better than that."

  "Nope, you sure can't."

  Sgt. Bennett waived at the targets and ordered, "OK you two. Let's see what you can do. Start at the left and work your way to the right. Put three shots into each target until I tell you to stop."

  As they started to get back into their positions, they heard one more command, "Take your time, we've only got one hour.” A couple of snickers were heard. Taylor looked at Ramon and replied, "You men are such boring creatures."

  They got settled down and went to work. On the first two targets, it took Taylor five rounds to get three hits on the target. However, Ramon settled into a groove of finding the range and adjusting her scope fairly quickly. Then, it was three shots and move to the next; three shots and move to the next. Even the ones that were turned a little to the side got their one-two-three shots.

  "That's enough," Sgt. Bennett said. "Now, let's see what you can do with the XM2010."

  Taylor's eyes lit up like it was Christmas. She was off the ground and weapon in her hand in the blink of an eye. She smiled at Sgt. Hutchins as he waited for her at the table. He picked up the XM2010 as she carefully placed the M24 back in its case.

  Before he handed her the weapon, he said, "I took the liberty last week to sight this baby in for you. You'll have to tweak it.....well I guess, Ramon will.” He handed it to her as you would have handed a new born baby to its mother. As they walked toward the firing line, he put his hand on her shoulder and began to tell her about the differences in the two weapons, "This one has that sound suppressor so it only sounds like a glorified .22 round going off. And that, muzzle break, it keeps the flash down to where it's hard for the enemy to see. And the .300 Winchester Magnum, it'll rip through stuff the M118LR will just bounce off of. Just wait 'til you get used to it. You'll love it so much that you'll want to sleep with it at night."

  Sgt. Bennett leaned over and whispered to Ramon, "Like a dad handing over the keys to the family car, ain't it?"

  "Yeah," Ramon chuckled.

  Taylor thought to herself, 'What is it about this guy? I'm hanging on every word he says. It's like I don't want him to quit talking to me. God........why couldn't my dad be like this guy? But, I've got Ramon. Ramon.......? Yeah...Ramon has always been there for me. How come I didn't notice it before? He's always been there..............for me.'

  Sgt. Hutchins came and stood in front of Sgt. Bennett. He crossed his arms and said in a low voice as a tear dribbled down his cheek, "You know my oldest girl turned 16 last week. I'm going to try my darndest to get her to go to college. I think I'm going for some coffee, want some?"

  Hutchins started to walk away, but Bennett put his hand on his shoulder to hold him. "You both would be happier if you just loved on her like you always do and let her make her own decision. Neither of you would be happy if you made the decision for her, now would you?"

  "You're right."

  "Bring a couple of Dr. Peppers for our kids," Bennett added. His mind wandered to his own sons aged 14 and 18.

  Taylor walked over to the firing line and Ramon joined her. She just stood there for a minute gazing at the weapon. "Taylor?” Ramon asked. "Is anything wrong?"

  She looked up at him with a puzzled look and replied, "He acted like he really cared whether I lived or died. He didn't patronize me.” She paused before continuing, "It was like we were best friends and he was giving me directions to his favorite fishing spot.”

  She paused again. "Ramon?"

  "Yeah?"

  "Would you laugh at me if I told you I almost felt like calling him, Dad?" her voice almost cracked before she caught herself and continued, "Ain't that a laugh?” She knelt down to get into her firing position.

  "No, not really. As a matter of fact, it's probably a normal reaction to a guy like Sgt. Hutchins. Remember the time when I called the Algebra teacher Uncle? Some folks are just like that to us," Ramon assured her.

  She looked up at him with a thoughtful grin, "Feels good to trust a man in authority. I didn't know I could do it. Reckon God's finally doing something to me?"

  "After all those nights I prayed for you, I'd say He's probably right on time," Ramon answered. "Both of us are going to have to pay attention to those who have walked this path before us. You know, I haven't always been the best at listening to people either."

  "Yeah," she agreed, "you never listened to me when I told you to get out of my life."

  "Case in point. Now, get down there and let's sight this weapon in, Sergeant. It looks like it's a dandy."

  "Yes, sir, your sergeantship, sir."

  "Just Your Royal Highness will be sufficient."

  "Yeah, like that's ever going to happen."

  Taylor fired the first shot to warm up the barrel. Ramon got back into his cross-legged position, flipped to a new page in his pad and slipped it back into its gizmo. The sergeants liked his gizmo. He peered through his binoculars and reported, "Your first one was high and to the left a bit. Aim at the same spot and let's see where a warm barrel puts it."

  "I aimed at dead center, but remember that a more powerful bullet will rise a little at close range," she suggested.

  Ramon located the second hit. "It was down some but it still shot to the left. Let me give it a few clicks and we'll try one close to 500 meters," he said.

  "That's a big jump from 100 to 500 meters."

  "Yeah, but if my guess is right, you'll hit the bull's eye but just a tad to the left.” As he surveyed the field and pointed the range finder, he said, "The third one to the right reads 537 meters. Take that one, the one that's a little crooked."

  "Third one to the right and a little crooked it is," echoed Taylor as she put in a fresh 5 round magazine. She squeezed off the shot. "To the left again?" she asked.

  "Yep, looks like it," Ramon said as added a couple of clicks to the scope. "Try it again."

  The next one hit the bull's eye. It wasn't dead center but it was on the black. To prove it wasn't a fluke, she put three more only an inch apart.

  The familiar voice of Sgt. Bennett rang out, "Good stuff, Sanders. Try the last one to the right, the one that's partly obscured by the target next to it. It looks to be 900 meters or so."

  "Range finder says 875 meters."

  "That's good enough. Don't hit the civilian standing to the left of it."

  "He hasn't asked ME anything hard to do," declared Taylor as she adjusted her scope for the distance. She took a breath, let it out and squeezed the trigger. Through the scope, she could see that it hit the outer edge of the black. Breath, exhale, and squeeze. Breath, exhale and squeeze. Two big ol' shiners slapped into the black. She sat up on her left elbow and asked, "How's that?"


  "Taylor, you just don't take second place, do you?” Sgt. Bennett stated as his cohort came up beside him with a carry-out tray loaded with two coffees, and two Dr. Peppers. "Time for a break, isn't it?"

  Ramon helped Taylor up and took the weapon for her. She brushed herself off as she walked over to the ammo table. Hutchins handed her the Dr. Pepper which she opened and took a couple of gulps. She lifted her can in salute and said, "Thanks, Dad. I needed that."

  A somewhat surprised Sgt. Hutchins lifted his in return and declared with a big smile, "Gotta keep my girl happy."

  Bennett lifted the Nextel up, pressed the 'call' button and ordered, "Okay, cowboy, round 'em up. We're through. Put that golf cart through its paces."

  The airman came out of his hiding place and systematically began to take the targets down and place them in the back of the golf cart. Everybody watched as the almost dilapidated machine lurched its way back and forth across the firing lane. At every bounce, they could see the fenders shake as if they were barely bolted on.

  He put the last 100 meter target in the back of the cart and looked at Sgt. Bennett. Sgt. Bennett lifted his hand over his head and made a circular motion. At the same time, Sgt. Hutchins got into their car and headed out toward him. The airman stopped the cart, took his personal items out of it, attached a rod to the steering wheel to stabilize it, then reached in and locked the accelerator. The cart started lumbering in a circular path. The airman grabbed up his goodies and got into the car with Sgt. Hutchins. Curiously, he made a long loop of getting back to the shed.

  Taylor and Ramon had no idea what was going on until Sgt. Bennett picked up the XM2010 and handed it to Taylor. He put a box of magnums and several 5 round magazines on the table in front of Ramon. "That's your next target. There are times when you will need to hit a moving target. I want you to disable that garbage can as soon as possible. Use the table if you need to steady your aim."

  "Oh, yeah," she said with a smile, "That's different alright."

  Ramon swapped magazines to make sure she had a full one to start with. "You're approximately 100 meters away so aim low to compensate. Aim for the sides and the back to get to the battery. When the front comes around, aim for the wheels to disable it, and then you'll have a stationary target."

  Taylor squeezed off a couple of shots but only saw dirt fly. Quickly she set the weapon on the table to get it more stable. After another worm-killer, she started hitting the cart. On the second circle, she got one of the steering arms and the cart curled to a halt. However, the rear wheels kept spinning and caused it to wobble back in forth. She picked a previous bullet hole and began to hammer away at it. Her second shot at it brought a puff of smoke and the wheels stopped turning.

  "That's what you've got to do when you have a vehicle with terrorists in it" Sgt. Bennett started to explain. "Disable it completely and then eliminate the ones that climb out of the vehicle. Of course, in real life, you MIGHT have some grenades to help you out. I said might."

  Ramon answered for the both of them, "We understand, sir."

  "I know you do, Ramon," Sgt. Bennett said as he patted shoulder. "I've seen enough from the both of you to know that dad made a good choice. Now, enough of this rah-rah stuff, we've got to get going."

  They got into the car and headed to Jack's office. Sgt. Bennett got out and took the signed paperwork inside. Once back into the car he became his sergeant-type self. "For the record, I signed both weapons out to you, Taylor. I knew you would appreciate that."

  She looked at him for a moment without saying a word.

  "What?" he asked innocently.

  "Sgt. Bennett," she started in an official tone. "I would like a transfer into whatever it is you do besides aggravate women of the female species. I can't wait to see the day when you get enough vinegar in you to tear into a general. I really would like to see that."

  Sgt. Bennett tried to act as if he was surprised to hear her talk like that. Sgt. Hutchins just snickered and looked at her through the rear view mirror. "You misunderstand my intentions and I would like to take this opportunity to say just how hurt I am."

  "My left toe knuckle."

  "There is a rational explanation for my actions."

  "Your wife's left toe knuckle."

  That did it. Sgt. Hutchins and Ramon could no longer hold back the laughter. Bennett was digging himself deeper and deeper and Taylor was shoveling it in on him. Ramon realized that she had accepted these two as friends and not mortal men-enemies. God was doing something in her alright and she was beginning to have the time of her life.

  "Just give me a moment, please," he asked more than demanded. In a more serious tone he began, "All kidding aside for right now, OK? I've seen your physical abilities, yes. But, there are other cognitive things that I would like to see from you. Those abilities will be tested in the next couple of weeks. If you're the prime ones that we're looking for, the XM2010 is yours. If not, we have several other places that we need valuable teams like you two."

  "OK. That's fair."

  "Rest assured, folks, I would NEVER put you into a dangerous situation that I didn't think you could handle," he promised. "But, for now, we'll take you to your rooms. You have a uniform laid out for you to wear now and five sets in your duffel bags plus three sets of boots. Place your civvies in the bag you brought and leave it on the bed. We'll send those back home. You won't need them for a while. We'll eat in the NCO club and then take a helicopter to the training facilities, somewhere in the American wilderness."