Revolution III - Cindy Got a Gun
My name is Jill Tiny
chapter 27
by
copier
· original author:
rainman1131
The next week, the girls met at Jackie's house. Jill and Jackie were lying on Jackie's bed, a full-sized one like Jill's, when Cindy bounced into the room.
"Hey, guys!" she said gaily, plopping herself down on the bed and sending the the ten-inch-tall girls into the air, and back down again, tumbling together into a little ball of pajama-clad legs and arms. As the two small girls disentangled themselves, Cindy settled in with her back up against the headboard, stuffing both pillows in behind her. She beamed down at her friends, and said, "Ask me about my day."
Jackie shook her head slightly at Jill. Don't ask, she mouthed.
"I saw that, Jackie!" Cindy said, leaning forward. She closed her hands around the tiny brunette and lifted her up to her chest, snuggling the small girl against her sweatshirt. "I've just got to tell you guys, and I need my favorite little doll to cuddle while I do!"
Jackie swiveled her head around, pulling her mouth away from the thick cotton fabric. She looked down at Jill. "Can you get a handle on this beast, Jill? Jeez!"
Jill laughed. "Shall I put her over my knee, Jackie?"
"Hmmph," Jackie said with disgust, pushing her face back into the sweatshirt. "Dammit, Cindy-". Jackie stopped, looking at the symbol on the left breast of Cindy's sweatshirt; embossed in dark ink on the gray shirt was a symbol that looked a little like a number eight lying on it's side. "Hey, that's the Complex logo, isn't it? You know what that is, don't you, Kong? It's-".
"The infinity symbol," finished Cindy, tapping her little friend playfully on top of her head. She then tapped her own temple, and said, "Eighty-ninth percentile, Jackie."
Jackie rolled her eyes.
Smiling, Jill said, "Tell us about your day, Cindy."
Cindy did.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
The Weapons Range was a large room located in a remote sector of the Complex, and Cindy had come here with a group of about a dozen other boys and girls, all here on the Intern Training Program - Covert Operations Division (also known, informally, as COD). Cindy had been glad it was one of the other students, and not her, who had made the fish joke in front of the instructor. That student, one Timothy Bowden, was the miserable-looking kid in the third shooting slot down from Cindy.
"Is there anybody here," asked Weapon's Chief Toomey, hands behind his back as he paced behind his students, stopping briefly behind Bowden. "besides the Fish here, who has anything funny to say?"
He was answered with silence. Then somebody coughed nervously.
Chief Toomey nodded. "Good."
The lank, angular man continued walking down the line behind the students, gazing at each appraisingly as he went. He had a pale, hard-planed, vaguely unpleasant face, topped with a severe, close-cropped crew cut. He had pale blue eyes that blazed angrily out of his unpleasant face, probably even when he smiled, Cindy thought. She figured she'd find that out if and when he did actually smile.
Oh, and Master Chief Toomey was also about twelve inches tall.
He walked on a shelf that lined the back wall of the room at about waist-high to a normal-sized person. The same shelf wrapped around the side walls, and continued on around and through the shooting slots.
Cindy heard his tiny footsteps slowly approaching on the section of shelf behind her, and thought to herself: keep moving, just move on along, little Master Chief.
The footsteps stopped behind her.
Crap, thought Cindy.
"What's your name, trainee?"
Cindy turned, looked down at the small man. He was dressed in olive drab field camos, no rank on his shoulder, and a small black holster at his little hip. He glared up at Cindy, waiting.
"Uh, I'm Trainee Cindy Cargill, sir," said Cindy, realizing her mistake almost at once. "I mean-"
"Sir!" barked the little man. "You don't call me 'sir', trainee! I work for a living, maggot! Got it?"
Someone giggled.
Cindy flushed. "Yes, Master Chief!" Cindy didn't know whether to laugh or cry. Maggot? She did neither, and added, "Sorry, Master Chief!"
The little soldier spit on the floor. "Damn right you're sorry." He squinted up at Cindy, taking in her slim, curvy figure, pretty face and long blond hair, today tied in a ponytail which hung straight down her back. "Is there a new 'Cheerleader Division' I just didn't get the memo on yet, trainee?"
Cindy shook her head. "I don't think so, Master Chief."
Someone down the line laughed at that.
The Master Chief nodded. "Uh-huh. You don't think, huh?" he craned his head around to look at the gun on the counter in front of Cindy. "And just what the Hell kind of weapon is that, Trainee Cheerleader?"
'It's an M1911 .45 Colt semi-automatic , si...Master Chief."
Master Chief Toomey nodded again, his face squinching up as though he'd just swallowed something unpleasant. "And do you know that the U.S. military sidearm of choice is now the M9 Baretta semi-automatic?'
"Yes, Master Chief."
Master Chief Toomey looked down the line at the others, then back to Cindy. "Then what is your major malfunction, Trainee Cheerleader? "
Now, both a boy and a girl laughed.
Cindy swallowed hard. "Uh, well, Master Chief, the Marines in the first Gulf War tried the M9, but the slide jammed up on them in the desert. Probably the sand. Anyway, they tossed them, and got back their old M1911's."
The room was silent for a moment.
Finally, Master Chief Toomey nodded. "That is a fact, Trainee Cargill. Indeed it is."
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
The first test was a single shot at a one foot square paper target, twenty-five yards down range. At the Master Chief's call of, "Fire!" a dozen shots rang out in the big room. "Safe positions!" the little man called out. When the shooters lowered their weapons, the Master Chief began to walk slowly along the ledge in front of each shooting slot, squinting out at the target. "Miss, miss, almost, but no, miss, miss, miss, miss, badly missed," he patted a dark-haired boy on the shoulder, "Not so good, huh, Fish?" The boy shook his head miserably. Master Chief Toomey continued down the line, "Miss, miss, miss," he paused, squinting out at a target, then smiled. "Hit. Nice job, Trainee...?"
"Robbins, Master Chief," said the tall, muscular boy standing in the slot next to Cindy. The boy was handsome, despite or maybe because of his severe squared-off buzz cut. He flashed Cindy a toothy, arrogant smile.
Master Chief Toomey nodded, and continued on, looking at Cindy's target. "And...miss."
The little man smiled up at Cindy. "What happened, Trainee Cheerleader?"
"I...I don't know, Master Chief. It was my first time."
"Your first time firing that gun?"
Cindy shook her head, embarrassed. "No, Master Chief. Any gun."
The little man put his arms behind his back. "Really? Any ideas what you did wrong?"
"I can help her, Master Chief-" began Robbins smugly.
But the Master Chief waved him off. He raised his eyebrows at Cindy. "Well?"
"Well," said Cindy, thinking. "I think I didn't know the exact pull tension of the trigger, so my firing arc was a little off when I shot. Also, I was a little afraid of the recoil, and I flinched when I fired. I'm pretty sure I could do better."
The major nodded, waving his hand forward with a flourish. "Show us, Trainee Cheerleader."
"Now?" said Cindy quietly. "Just me?"
She heard one of the other kids mutter, giggling, "Trainee Cheerleader."
Master Chief Toomey nodded, stepping out of her way and over in front of Robbins' slot. He looked out at Cindy's target, waiting.
Cindy swallowed heavily. She raised the gun in one hand, surprised that she held it up fairly steadily. Cindy took a large breath, let out most of it, sighted in on the target, and squeezed the trigger. The shot rang out hollowly in the big room, seeming all the louder because it was the lone shot this time.
Every eye in the room squinted at the small target.
"Shee-it," whispered Robbins.
Someone whistled.
There was a clear black hole punched exactly in the middle of Cindy's target.
The little Master Chief said softly, "Weapon down," When Cindy complied, he walked back into her shooting slot, looked up at her. "Was that a lucky shot, Trainee Cheerleader?"
Cindy shrugged. "Maybe, Master Chief."
"Try it again." he said, once again stepping away.
Cindy did.
The paper target lifted slightly as the bullet sliced in through the same hole, tearing a tiny crescent out of the hole's right edge.
"Double shee-it," whispered Robbins.
There were quiet murmurings form the other kids.
"Again," said Toomey quietly.
Cindy, unable to keep a tiny grin from her lips, pulled the gun up and fired.
This time the slug tore a tiny piece off the left side of the bullseye hole.
This time there was silence in the big room. Even Robbins had run out of 'shee-its'.
The Master Chief's voice had a faint, faraway sound to it when he said softly, "Empty the clip into it."
Cindy obeyed, raising her weapon, and firing five quick shots into the target. The thin paper flew up wildly, then came back to rest, a nearly perfect ragged black hole punched in it's middle.
The little man looked up at Cindy speculatively. "Did you focus on everything, the target, and both sights?"
Cindy smiled. "No, Master Chief. You can only really focus on one thing, so I concentrated on the front sight."
"Not the rear sight?"
"No, the rear site is just a bit out of focus."
"And the target?"
"It's just a blur."
"Bullshit," breathed Robbins beside her.
The Master Chief ignored the arrogant boy. "So, how do you hit a target that is a blur, Trainee Cheerleader?"
Cindy grinned, this time at Robbins. "I just shoot a hole in the middle of the blur."
The boy looked at her as though she had lost her mind.
And then the Master Chief did something very strange: he smiled. Cindy saw that the hard, pale blue eyes did still look a little mean as they shone out of the little face, but the smile did help. At least a little.
Master Chief Toomey turned, waving casually at Cindy over his shoulder. He began to walk along the little ledge toward the door. "Listen up, maggots," he called. "Trainee Cargill will lead the remainder of this session." He looked around at the others, looking pointedly at Robbins. "I strongly suggest you listen to her." He gave Cindy a wink, and left the room.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"No way," said Jackie, shaking her head slowly. Her small arms were propped on top of the huge forearm that pinned her to Cindy's chest.
Cindy smiled, leaning farther back on the pillows, and adjusting Jackie in her arms so that her tiny friend lay atop her chest, cradled on her back with Cindy's arms holding her under her arms and knees. Cindy nodded down at her, giving her a playful kiss on the nose. "Yes, way. I'm we'll on my way to becoming a Zen Master in the art of the gun."
Jill smiled at her giant friend. "I told you you'd be good." Now Jill turned to Jackie. "What about you, Jackie? Anything interesting to report?"
The little brunette struggled up as best she could in Cindy's grasp, and started to smile. "Well..."
"Hey, guys!" she said gaily, plopping herself down on the bed and sending the the ten-inch-tall girls into the air, and back down again, tumbling together into a little ball of pajama-clad legs and arms. As the two small girls disentangled themselves, Cindy settled in with her back up against the headboard, stuffing both pillows in behind her. She beamed down at her friends, and said, "Ask me about my day."
Jackie shook her head slightly at Jill. Don't ask, she mouthed.
"I saw that, Jackie!" Cindy said, leaning forward. She closed her hands around the tiny brunette and lifted her up to her chest, snuggling the small girl against her sweatshirt. "I've just got to tell you guys, and I need my favorite little doll to cuddle while I do!"
Jackie swiveled her head around, pulling her mouth away from the thick cotton fabric. She looked down at Jill. "Can you get a handle on this beast, Jill? Jeez!"
Jill laughed. "Shall I put her over my knee, Jackie?"
"Hmmph," Jackie said with disgust, pushing her face back into the sweatshirt. "Dammit, Cindy-". Jackie stopped, looking at the symbol on the left breast of Cindy's sweatshirt; embossed in dark ink on the gray shirt was a symbol that looked a little like a number eight lying on it's side. "Hey, that's the Complex logo, isn't it? You know what that is, don't you, Kong? It's-".
"The infinity symbol," finished Cindy, tapping her little friend playfully on top of her head. She then tapped her own temple, and said, "Eighty-ninth percentile, Jackie."
Jackie rolled her eyes.
Smiling, Jill said, "Tell us about your day, Cindy."
Cindy did.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
The Weapons Range was a large room located in a remote sector of the Complex, and Cindy had come here with a group of about a dozen other boys and girls, all here on the Intern Training Program - Covert Operations Division (also known, informally, as COD). Cindy had been glad it was one of the other students, and not her, who had made the fish joke in front of the instructor. That student, one Timothy Bowden, was the miserable-looking kid in the third shooting slot down from Cindy.
"Is there anybody here," asked Weapon's Chief Toomey, hands behind his back as he paced behind his students, stopping briefly behind Bowden. "besides the Fish here, who has anything funny to say?"
He was answered with silence. Then somebody coughed nervously.
Chief Toomey nodded. "Good."
The lank, angular man continued walking down the line behind the students, gazing at each appraisingly as he went. He had a pale, hard-planed, vaguely unpleasant face, topped with a severe, close-cropped crew cut. He had pale blue eyes that blazed angrily out of his unpleasant face, probably even when he smiled, Cindy thought. She figured she'd find that out if and when he did actually smile.
Oh, and Master Chief Toomey was also about twelve inches tall.
He walked on a shelf that lined the back wall of the room at about waist-high to a normal-sized person. The same shelf wrapped around the side walls, and continued on around and through the shooting slots.
Cindy heard his tiny footsteps slowly approaching on the section of shelf behind her, and thought to herself: keep moving, just move on along, little Master Chief.
The footsteps stopped behind her.
Crap, thought Cindy.
"What's your name, trainee?"
Cindy turned, looked down at the small man. He was dressed in olive drab field camos, no rank on his shoulder, and a small black holster at his little hip. He glared up at Cindy, waiting.
"Uh, I'm Trainee Cindy Cargill, sir," said Cindy, realizing her mistake almost at once. "I mean-"
"Sir!" barked the little man. "You don't call me 'sir', trainee! I work for a living, maggot! Got it?"
Someone giggled.
Cindy flushed. "Yes, Master Chief!" Cindy didn't know whether to laugh or cry. Maggot? She did neither, and added, "Sorry, Master Chief!"
The little soldier spit on the floor. "Damn right you're sorry." He squinted up at Cindy, taking in her slim, curvy figure, pretty face and long blond hair, today tied in a ponytail which hung straight down her back. "Is there a new 'Cheerleader Division' I just didn't get the memo on yet, trainee?"
Cindy shook her head. "I don't think so, Master Chief."
Someone down the line laughed at that.
The Master Chief nodded. "Uh-huh. You don't think, huh?" he craned his head around to look at the gun on the counter in front of Cindy. "And just what the Hell kind of weapon is that, Trainee Cheerleader?"
'It's an M1911 .45 Colt semi-automatic , si...Master Chief."
Master Chief Toomey nodded again, his face squinching up as though he'd just swallowed something unpleasant. "And do you know that the U.S. military sidearm of choice is now the M9 Baretta semi-automatic?'
"Yes, Master Chief."
Master Chief Toomey looked down the line at the others, then back to Cindy. "Then what is your major malfunction, Trainee Cheerleader? "
Now, both a boy and a girl laughed.
Cindy swallowed hard. "Uh, well, Master Chief, the Marines in the first Gulf War tried the M9, but the slide jammed up on them in the desert. Probably the sand. Anyway, they tossed them, and got back their old M1911's."
The room was silent for a moment.
Finally, Master Chief Toomey nodded. "That is a fact, Trainee Cargill. Indeed it is."
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
The first test was a single shot at a one foot square paper target, twenty-five yards down range. At the Master Chief's call of, "Fire!" a dozen shots rang out in the big room. "Safe positions!" the little man called out. When the shooters lowered their weapons, the Master Chief began to walk slowly along the ledge in front of each shooting slot, squinting out at the target. "Miss, miss, almost, but no, miss, miss, miss, miss, badly missed," he patted a dark-haired boy on the shoulder, "Not so good, huh, Fish?" The boy shook his head miserably. Master Chief Toomey continued down the line, "Miss, miss, miss," he paused, squinting out at a target, then smiled. "Hit. Nice job, Trainee...?"
"Robbins, Master Chief," said the tall, muscular boy standing in the slot next to Cindy. The boy was handsome, despite or maybe because of his severe squared-off buzz cut. He flashed Cindy a toothy, arrogant smile.
Master Chief Toomey nodded, and continued on, looking at Cindy's target. "And...miss."
The little man smiled up at Cindy. "What happened, Trainee Cheerleader?"
"I...I don't know, Master Chief. It was my first time."
"Your first time firing that gun?"
Cindy shook her head, embarrassed. "No, Master Chief. Any gun."
The little man put his arms behind his back. "Really? Any ideas what you did wrong?"
"I can help her, Master Chief-" began Robbins smugly.
But the Master Chief waved him off. He raised his eyebrows at Cindy. "Well?"
"Well," said Cindy, thinking. "I think I didn't know the exact pull tension of the trigger, so my firing arc was a little off when I shot. Also, I was a little afraid of the recoil, and I flinched when I fired. I'm pretty sure I could do better."
The major nodded, waving his hand forward with a flourish. "Show us, Trainee Cheerleader."
"Now?" said Cindy quietly. "Just me?"
She heard one of the other kids mutter, giggling, "Trainee Cheerleader."
Master Chief Toomey nodded, stepping out of her way and over in front of Robbins' slot. He looked out at Cindy's target, waiting.
Cindy swallowed heavily. She raised the gun in one hand, surprised that she held it up fairly steadily. Cindy took a large breath, let out most of it, sighted in on the target, and squeezed the trigger. The shot rang out hollowly in the big room, seeming all the louder because it was the lone shot this time.
Every eye in the room squinted at the small target.
"Shee-it," whispered Robbins.
Someone whistled.
There was a clear black hole punched exactly in the middle of Cindy's target.
The little Master Chief said softly, "Weapon down," When Cindy complied, he walked back into her shooting slot, looked up at her. "Was that a lucky shot, Trainee Cheerleader?"
Cindy shrugged. "Maybe, Master Chief."
"Try it again." he said, once again stepping away.
Cindy did.
The paper target lifted slightly as the bullet sliced in through the same hole, tearing a tiny crescent out of the hole's right edge.
"Double shee-it," whispered Robbins.
There were quiet murmurings form the other kids.
"Again," said Toomey quietly.
Cindy, unable to keep a tiny grin from her lips, pulled the gun up and fired.
This time the slug tore a tiny piece off the left side of the bullseye hole.
This time there was silence in the big room. Even Robbins had run out of 'shee-its'.
The Master Chief's voice had a faint, faraway sound to it when he said softly, "Empty the clip into it."
Cindy obeyed, raising her weapon, and firing five quick shots into the target. The thin paper flew up wildly, then came back to rest, a nearly perfect ragged black hole punched in it's middle.
The little man looked up at Cindy speculatively. "Did you focus on everything, the target, and both sights?"
Cindy smiled. "No, Master Chief. You can only really focus on one thing, so I concentrated on the front sight."
"Not the rear sight?"
"No, the rear site is just a bit out of focus."
"And the target?"
"It's just a blur."
"Bullshit," breathed Robbins beside her.
The Master Chief ignored the arrogant boy. "So, how do you hit a target that is a blur, Trainee Cheerleader?"
Cindy grinned, this time at Robbins. "I just shoot a hole in the middle of the blur."
The boy looked at her as though she had lost her mind.
And then the Master Chief did something very strange: he smiled. Cindy saw that the hard, pale blue eyes did still look a little mean as they shone out of the little face, but the smile did help. At least a little.
Master Chief Toomey turned, waving casually at Cindy over his shoulder. He began to walk along the little ledge toward the door. "Listen up, maggots," he called. "Trainee Cargill will lead the remainder of this session." He looked around at the others, looking pointedly at Robbins. "I strongly suggest you listen to her." He gave Cindy a wink, and left the room.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"No way," said Jackie, shaking her head slowly. Her small arms were propped on top of the huge forearm that pinned her to Cindy's chest.
Cindy smiled, leaning farther back on the pillows, and adjusting Jackie in her arms so that her tiny friend lay atop her chest, cradled on her back with Cindy's arms holding her under her arms and knees. Cindy nodded down at her, giving her a playful kiss on the nose. "Yes, way. I'm we'll on my way to becoming a Zen Master in the art of the gun."
Jill smiled at her giant friend. "I told you you'd be good." Now Jill turned to Jackie. "What about you, Jackie? Anything interesting to report?"
The little brunette struggled up as best she could in Cindy's grasp, and started to smile. "Well..."
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August 15
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