***
Lunchtime came and after going through the chow line Jack sat down next to Jill. He looked at the fifty other snipers eating their lunch, or rather stopped eating their lunch. All the soldiers were staring at Jill. They must be glad they didn’t get stuck with a female partner. Maybe they think we are going to come in last place because a female is on my team. Maybe they—
“I thought the scope sighting went well. What do you think, Savage?” Jill casually addressed Jack.
“We got the job done. Now the hard part starts.” Jack tried not to be rude. On the other hand, he didn’t want to encourage any unnecessary, i.e., friendly, conversation with Jill.
“I agree. I noticed that you didn’t seem to mind the recoil from your rifle,” Jill said.
“No, I had to fire two thousand rounds through it before it loosened up and stabilized. Now I don’t notice it.” Maybe Jill is getting easier to converse with.
“The biggest rifle I ever shot was a thirty-aught-six,” Jill said.
“Yeah, the M24 standard sniper rifle.”
“I shot the M24 in the Army, but I got started in high school with the consumer version, the Remington 700. We used it to hunt deer and elk,” Jill said.
“Ma’am, you are full of surprises. Next thing you are going to tell me is that you like to drink beer and arm wrestle with the guys.”
Instead of speaking, she smiled at Jack, and then looked back at her food as she continued eating. Jack wondered what the smile meant. Was it just a smile, or does she have other secrets that I don’t know about?
“Jack, the next three days are going to be full of tension. Our future is on the line. We must work together, but we barely know each other. I thought about you considering me like a sister. I realize now that won’t work since you were an orphan, so maybe you could just think of me as one of the guys.”
“Does that mean that you really do want to arm wrestle and drink beer?” Jack forced a thin smile.
Jill returned the smile. “Really, Jack, work with me on this. Why don’t you just play a mind game with yourself and pretend that I am one of the guys?”
Jack stopped munching his food, leaned back in his chair, and looked at Jill’s long black hair pulled back into a ponytail. It gently bounced up and down as she chewed her food. His eyes drifted to her cute freckles and dark blue eyes. His gaze traveled down to her narrow waist, broad hips, and lingered on her long slender legs. “Ma’am, you just don’t understand. It’s not that easy.”
“Okay Jack, we’ll just have to go one level deeper. The way I see it, your comfort zone is a chauvinistic point of view, and you think that you can do everything better than me. The problem is that although you can do some things better than me, there are other things that I can do better than you.”
“Are you referring to strategic planning?” Jack bit back a snicker.
“Okay, maybe I have used that word a little too much. But, bottom line, neither of us is perfect. Our imperfections are the reason we need to work in teams, hence the name ‘team work,’” Jill quipped.
Jack pondered her comments before speaking. “I don’t like to think about having imperfections, but I acknowledge that I do have a few. What bothers me is that I don’t want you helping me get the job done. Even though I am imperfect, I still do my job, and I do it very well.”
“So, is the issue with me helping you, Jack? Or is the issue with anyone helping you?”
Again Jack paused and pondered her question. “My confidence is high enough that I don’t need anyone’s help. It’s probably due to the way I grew up. I spent a lot of time by myself and I had to figure out ways to do things single-handedly, where others could get help from their families.”
Jack took a glance around the cafeteria and noticed that the soldiers had stopped looking at his partner and gone back to eating their lunch.
They both sat in silence as they each pondered their situation. Jill swallowed her last bite of food and said, “Let’s divide up our equipment and fill our backpacks. We need to be ready for the Shoot Out.”
“Right.” Jack was glad that Jill changed the subject.
On their way to the staging area, Jill said, “I’m going to swing by HQ and get a weather report to see what the surface winds will be. I’ll catch up to you in ten minutes.”
Jack spread out all of their gear on the grass and began looking for a logical way to split up the equipment between the two of them. As he was pondering the problem, two navy SEALs walked by and smirked. “Are you going to carry her stuff, too? Maybe, if she isn’t too tired, she could carry the granola bars.” Jack looked up at them and scowled. The two snipers laughed and kept walking.
Jill returned and gave Jack the weather report. Then they began looking at all of the equipment.
“I’ll take the 50-cal and the ammo for it,” Jack said.
“I’ll carry the spotting scope, food, first aid kit, and water bottles. Why don’t I take the ammo, too?” Jill asked while pondering the pile of equipment on the grass.
“Ma’am, I think you would be carrying more weight than me if you did that.”
“Maybe, but the 50-cal weighs thirty-one pounds and will be almost as heavy as my backpack. My backpack will be well-balanced and easier to carry while running. You will have to use the shoulder sling, or the side-handle to carry your rifle. Either way it will throw you off balance. At the speed we are going to be running, you will have your hands full.”
Jack had a pensive look on his face. How did she know it weighed thirty-one pounds? Why does she have to be a know-it-all? It’s possible that the imbalance load could make a difference, but I’m not going to admit to her that she’s right. She’s a female, and she shouldn’t be able to solve this type of problem. Maybe I will let her learn the hard way. “Ma’am, that’s a good thought. You take the ammo.”