The Doctrine of Presence. Benjamin Vance
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Название: The Doctrine of Presence
Автор: Benjamin Vance
Издательство: Ingram
Жанр: Биология
isbn: 9780985916824
isbn:
Fourth-generation night vision scopes and rifle sites were other essentials which severely drained our funds. We talked our way around the purchase of rifle scopes several times. It ended up being one of our biggest headaches, but in the end we all admitted the need for non-IR capable night vision. They cost a bundle, but it seemed we were in for the full ride. Stealth was the final and most essential consideration. The documentation of illicit actions by cinematographers was our primary goal, but one doesn’t voluntarily enter into such situations without proper defensive weapons, if for no other reason than to deter retribution.
Everyone except Leo agreed that we needed silencers for our weapons. It was Leo’s argument that silencers reduced the speed and accuracy of the projectile. Greenie disagreed. He said, “Gentlemen, I can make, and have made for the Nevada Highway Patrol, silencers that reduce the muzzle velocity less than a hundred feet per second, and do not reduce the accuracy at all when one considers the normal variability of bullet drift. I can have five more made in less than a week, as long as they’re for .223 or 5.56mm.”
Leo looked down and shook his head; I agreed and stressed we needed something with a tad more range and less normal bullet drift. Greenie finally agreed he would attempt to rig a silencer for a .308 weapon. Then Leo asked for a silencer to fit a model 700 Remington in .338 Lapua. Greenie said, “I’ll try, Leo, I’ll try. There should be one already available for the Remington since it’s essentially a police model. Why did you buy a Remington?”
Leo quietly said, “I like shiny bolts and beautiful walnut stocks.” He waved his hand gently through the air to outline and emphasize, then continued, “They have curves like a beautiful woman.”
Greenie beamed at Leo and said, “So do I, Leo, so do I; I mean that I like bolts and walnut … shit. We may have to buy a silencer, reverse engineer it and make it better, but we’ll see.”
No nefarious arguments ensued, just piles and piles of notes and lists of things to consider for an excursion beyond the grid. There were different lists for varying durations and changing venues; if cold, this and if hot, that. You get the drift. The major constraint was cash … seems like it always was. When we tallied it up, we were looking at over $25,000 in equipment and supplies for the first trip, whenever or wherever it was to be. That sum did not include gas for my Jeep and Gimp’s specially equipped four-wheel drive monster SUV.
We just looked at each other and at the walls when I announced the cost of our little brain storm could turn out to be a cash-sucking tornado. I thought the operation would fall apart right then and there, until Fredo said, “I can talk to my uncle in Mexico. Maybe he can … maybe, give us something. He’s a rich sum’bitch. I’ll ask him and let chew guys know.”
I assumed the chances of Fredo’s uncle coming through were slim to none, but it seemed to give everyone encouragement, so I didn’t say anything negative. We verbally confirmed that each of us would put in two thousand; at least everyone except Leo, who just nodded his head and looked pensive. We would still need at least fifteen thousand dollars from somewhere else. Yeah, we all should have had more than two thousand dollars saved and probably did, but when one is as old as most of us were, it is very hard to admit a life of meager saving has amounted to just a few thousand dollars. No one asked any more questions about the subject and we adjourned at 9:00 p.m.; just a few hours after we began the most challenging planning and soul-searching period of … most of our lives.
4
Two days later, at around 7:00 p.m. there came a light knock at my door. I was expecting no one, so as is the case whenever someone knocks at our home unscheduled, I get my nine millimeter in hand to answer. I asked who it was and got the one deep word, “Leo”! What a surprise it was to have someone from our little group drop in. I knew very little about Leo’s past and would probably never know much more, but had to try. I offered a beer; he declined, but asked if I had any iced tea. I did, and got him a large glass with plenty of sugar as he requested. He was nothing if not polite. I waited for him to get to the point, but had I not initiated the conversation, we may have been there to this day.
I finally asked, to what purpose I owed the pleasure of his visit. Just as he was about to tell me, my room-mate came in the front door. She was about eighteen years my junior and a practicing veterinarian. She looked pretty, but pooped and frazzled, so I excused myself from Leo, welcomed her properly and introduced her to Leo. Leo looked surprised and seemed to vaguely recognize her. It was actually the first time I saw him break into a closed-lip smile, or perhaps a smile of any kind.
I told Samantha we were talking business so she cordially removed herself to her bathroom, to remove the animal hair and grime of the day. Leo apparently forgot his mission again because he just sat there sipping his tea after I reseated. I prompted his renewed interest by asking again what the purpose of his visit was. He seemed to draw himself from a place far away and again blessed me with a slight smile. He said, “I seem to have lost my place again; sorry. It’s just that Samantha reminds me of a lady I knew in Sarajevo. No big deal (I knew it was). I came over to bring you this.” As he finished speaking he handed me a heavy little white, transparent tube, obviously the type coins come in. Upon opening, I counted fifteen, one ounce gold Dutch ten guilders, all with King Willem’s profile. I had never held that much gold at one time. Although only fifteen ounces, it felt like twenty pounds.
I asked why he was giving them to me. He said in more words than I ever heard from him at one time; essentially he found them in Bosnia, and wished to finally put some to good use. I promised to use them only as we needed to buy equipment. He inferred that I did not need to be frugal. I wondered how many more Leo had put away; I couldn’t help it.
After he left and I secured the gold and pistol in a safe place, Samantha came from the bedroom combing her damp hair, smelling delicious and wearing nothing but one of my old holey Special Forces T-shirts. I related as much about his visit as I dared, while helping her prepare an evening meal of upscale TV dinners; still TV dinners. She was a hard working lady and was not getting paid nearly enough to compensate for her extensive education, profound knowledge and the stress her job produced. Among the many intimate things we shared and discussed often, were our concerns for animals, both in the harsh and cruel wild world and in the supposedly civilized one. As I watched her sleep later that night, I hatched a plan for her involvement in our illicit endeavor.
* * *
Samantha Doherty was a graduate of North Carolina State Veterinary School. She started late in life and was hampered by a jealous spouse who, according to her, hindered her at every turn. He wanted children immediately, but waited until she went through the exhaustive Veterinary School application process and was accepted, before telling her that. Of course she wanted to wait until she finished vet school, but the jealous bastard interrupted her study one night before a final exam, and tried to force her into sex.
By that time she’d had enough, and left him to live in a friend’s bedroom. He accused her of being a lesbian and filed for divorce. Her grades suffered, as did her reputation. However, she survived both and ended up with a B-average, which suited her fine. Being desperate and scared after graduation like many students are, she took the first good job offer from a corporate veterinary firm. She regretted the decision almost from the start, but had to stick it out for a year. She took a job with another corporate firm in Albuquerque, New Mexico, and transferred to Phoenix two years later. СКАЧАТЬ