Target Practice

I glared at the moron masquerading as my date. What a disgusting piece of trash this jackwagon was. I mean, really. Just look at him. Who dresses in a clown suit to attend a wedding? That’s right. A freaking clown suit, complete with multi-colored polka dots, a fuzzy red wig, and a ridiculously painted face. His sculpted eyebrows are as big as the 25-yard targets at the range. Fifteen hours of range practice are mandatory for every member of Huntsman, Inc., so I make sure I get in 4 hours every Wednesday. I have no idea when Mr. McClowny-face over here goes, but he better not botch this gig for me. If he does, I’ll knock him out, drag him to the range, and prop him up next to the target. Waking up to someone shooting at his face might teach him not to paint it like a target when attending a high-profile wedding. Picturing this gives me an inordinate amount of glee, so much so that I am actually smiling when Lily and Matt—the bride and groom—approach our table.

“Talyn! I’m so glad you could make it! How did you swing getting a Saturday night off? I thought your boss didn’t let you guys take weekends off.”

Lily bent carefully in her dress to give me a one-armed hug. Her dress, which is no less disturbing to me than the clown suit, is blindingly white and made from so much lace and other puffy material that she physically cannot get very close to anyone. It makes me wonder if her reason for choosing the dress wasn’t because of some powerful mind-bending aerosol in the air filtration system of the bridal shop, but instead was a tactical decision to keep all of these handsy huggers from touching her for too long. Huggers are dangerous. You never know when one will try to take you down, either physically or emotionally. That’s one reason I am firmly in the no touchy-touchy camp. Well, except for when it comes to my closest friends—Lily being one of those—and only on special occasions like birthdays, weddings, and funerals.

“Mack was in a rare good mood when I asked him last week,” I shrugged.

She didn’t need to know that I wasn’t technically off work. Our company had been contracted as extra security for the mayor’s son’s nuptials. Supposedly, there was a jealous ex who had been making threats for the past 2 months, and the mayor’s office was concerned that protection was needed specifically for the bride and groom.

Fortunately for me, the family decided to hire Huntsman. When the assignment hit the comms board asking for volunteers, I high-tailed it to Mack’s office in hopes of being the first one to ask. Imagine my horror when I found this idiot already standing there. Mack, the bastard, was—for some unknown reason—really happy that we were paired together for this job. Oh, he didn’t say that, but you could tell from the twinkle in his eyes that he was pleased to have his two best agents working together. And, since I was already on the guest list, we didn’t have to maneuver our way into the event by greasy palms or a strategically unlocked back door. If the gig hadn’t been my best friend’s wedding, I would’ve turned around and marched right back to my desk. Up until that moment, I truly believed there would never be a situation in which I would willingly work with my number one nemesis, much less put his name down as my plus one to a swanky event. But here we are.

Glancing over at Roger, I cringed inside. And what a lovely couple we make. Roger’s suit contrasts horribly with my semi-formal dress. I typically despise dresses, but I love this one. The baby blue chiffon brings out the blue in my mundane hazel eyes. It’s shape is mostly A-line with a concealed holster in the front that is covered by a swath of layered material that snaps discreetly at the hip. Lily helped me pick it out two weeks ago just in case I could come to the wedding. She knows I don’t go anywhere unarmed, so finding a dress that had a place for my Beretta 9mm and that suited my body type was a bit difficult. I’m 6’2 and curvy. Most tall women are slim and small-breasted, so, understandably, most clothing options are made with this stereotype in mind, but that doesn’t keep me from getting a headache whenever I need to buy clothes. Most things are either too short-legged or too tight in the bust area. I considered having my clothes tailored at one point, but aside from the uniform I wear for work, I don’t really need anything other than the leggings, t-shirts, and pajamas I typically wear around the house. Other than going to the gym, range, grocery store and occasional coffee shop, I’m at either at home or at work. I’m also not into the party scene like most of my 20-something peers, so there really isn’t a need for anything else.

“A good mood for Mack is definitely rare.” Lily chuckled. “I’ve actually never heard of him being in a good mood—um…ever. Huh. Well, I’m glad you were able to take advantage of it. I just wanted to pop over to say hi before we cut the cake.”

She glanced at Roger and then back to me with a question forming on her lips when Matt patted her hand that was looped through his arm and pointed to a well-dressed woman who was trying to get their attention. Recognition and understanding lit Lily’s face.

“Oh! that’s our cue!” She turned back to me with a beaming smile and squeezed my shoulder. “We’ll talk later, k?” Then she gracefully turned and let her new husband guide her to the place where the smash-the-cake-in-your-face portion of the evening was to happen. Honestly, that was my favorite part of the whole wedding shindig. If they could speed up the vow part and let everyone participate in the cake smashing, I’d probably attend more weddings.

I sighed and looked around. Now that I had played the part of friend and guest, I needed to focus on security. I had staked out the reception room when we arrived earlier. It had 4 exits: one led to the extensive gardens complete with a small hedge maze, one to a private parking garage, one to the bathrooms, and the last led to the kitchens. Three solid walls on the north, west, and south, and an entire wall of windows to the east. Possible targets included about 250 guests and 35 staff, ten of whom were a part of the mayor’s security team.

An added layer of precautions needed to be taken because of the time of the event. The wedding started at 6:00 p.m., and the reception at 7:30 p.m. It was now close to 8:30 p.m., which meant the natural sunlight was decreasing rapidly. This tripled the number of shadowy places that nefarious party crashers could hide. Not that I expected more than one or two troublemakers from this crowd, and most of those would likely be children or teenagers just playing around. Also, I wasn’t here to curtail the shenanigans of the guests. I was here to protect the bride and groom, and since I cared deeply about the bride, I wouldn’t want to be wrong about the potential threat hidden in the crowd. Aside from it being my job, I truly wanted Lily’s wedding to be the best day of her life, which meant I needed to do my best to make sure that happened.

Rising from the chair, I looked at Roger and said, “I’m going to stretch my legs.” He just nodded. His eyes had never stopped scanning the room for threats. The painted-on smiley face meant he didn’t even have to pretend he wanted to be here. I’ll admit that was kinda smart, but I’m pretty sure the creep factor of the entire ensemble canceled out any advantage. Besides, he sticks out like a sore thumb, which is the one thing we are not supposed to do when we are on a job. I can’t wait to tell Mack about this. As I pondered all of the ways Roger might be reprimanded, I made my way around the perimeter of the room. Casually stopping and pretending to be fascinated by a particularly fancy ice sculpture—of which there were three—or blending in with small groups of people conversing at random locations around the room. Even though I don’t look like security tonight, it’s hard to break the habit of blending in. The fewer people who notice security, the more natural they will act, which makes our jobs easier. It’s actually more difficult to pick out who is acting differently when everyone is on edge. So far, though, this crowd was loose and relaxed.

With Roger still stationed at the table on the west side of the room, I planted myself on the east side since that was where the bride and groom were most likely to be. If either Roger or I spotted something that needed the other’s attention, we would signal to let the other know. Despite our differences, we do know how to be professional on the job.

About an hour later, the older guests had already gone home, which left about 150 people in the room. The DJ must have known exactly when to switch the music from classy elevator music to deafening dance club music because the dance floor was packed with the 20-40-somethings. The music was so loud I almost couldn’t hear the person talking next to me. They were discussing the upcoming council meeting and how they thought each person would vote on the budget…or something to do with the budget. Honestly, I wasn’t paying enough attention to really know. My attention was on Lily and Matt…and Roger. I couldn’t lose sight of my partner. Because I was paying attention, I noticed when he subtly straightened in his seat and reached a hand up to his left ear to scratch. That was our signal that I needed to pay attention to something on his left. Without hurrying, I sauntered over to the drinks table to get a better look at what had Roger worried.

The bartender leaned close to be heard above the noise and said, “What can I get you?”

“What are your non-alcoholic options?”

“Iced Tea, Coffee, Water, and Pepsi products.”

“Great! I’ll take a Pepsi.” I guess Lily had won the ongoing Cola War with her husband if she was serving it at her wedding. Or maybe Matt just didn’t know. Either way, I’d have to ask her about it later. I was sure there was a story there.

I turned back to the crowd to scan the room while the server got to work on my drink. On my first pass, I didn’t see anything out of the ordinary, but on my second, I realized that there was someone whose behavior didn’t quite fit. There was a server who didn’t move with the same confidence and purpose as the rest of the staff. She meandered around the tables with a full pitcher of water but never refilled any glasses despite the half-empty ones on the tables. Her eyes kept flicking toward the parking garage and then to the bride and groom. I didn’t recognize her. In the last two hours, I had memorized most of the faces here. I would’ve noticed this woman with her dark hair cut in a bob, a severe frown, and large, black, square glasses on her face. The glasses were hideous.

The bartender tapped me on the shoulder and handed me my drink. I smiled back and nodded my thanks as I took the glass and started following the woman. When she looked back at the garage door again, I leaned a little trying to get a better look at the her face. She was the right height and build of Matt’s ex-girlfriend, but everything else about her —the hair especially—was wrong. According to the picture, Miss Adele Harrison had long wavy platinum blonde hair, and she certainly didn’t wear glasses.

Just then, a loud banging sound startled everyone in the room. Before I could figure out where the sound was coming from, I saw one of the guests nearest the garage door reached over, turned the knob, and swing it open. Something the size of an SUV smashed into the man holding the door and tossed him 10 feet before he crash landed next to one of the ice sculptures. I was stricken between helping the man and watching a massive bull with 6-foot horns buck and jump and smash into tables and chairs. People scrambled out of the way, and a wave of panic seized the room before everyone started rushing towards the exits. For a moment, I could only stare in open-mouthed shock. Holy shiitake mushrooms! What the hell is a Texas Longhorn doing in here? Yes, we are in Texas, but we are in downtown Dallas, for Christ’s sakes!

The bull didn’t look too happy to be here either. The loud music was agitating it. It charged at one of the speakers and stabbed its horn through the side, ripping it off the tripod. For a second I was mesmerized at the sheer destructive power of this beast. With effort, I refocused on the situation. I quickly found my primaries with the mayor’s family tucked safely behind the security team. Satisfied, I look towards the man who who has the misfortune of opening the door. He was had three people helping him, and one of those was a doctor, so there was nothing else I could do for him. So, I turned towards the bull, who had slowed down but not stopped. I spotted Roger running towards the bull, and I moved in to help him. The brightly colored motley of Roger’s clown suit got the bull’s attention. Roger put his arms out to the sides and began bouncing around and waving his arms. In jerks and stops, Roger led the bull back around to the garage door. Somewhere along the way, he grabbed a tablecloth off a broken table. Once in front of the door, he proceeded to stand in front of it and wiggle and snap the tablecloth as they do with the Running of the Bulls in Spain. After a few tense moments, the bull snorted and stamped his foot before it rushed at Roger. At the last moment, Roger jumped behind the door and slammed it shut once the bull was completely through. As if on cue, the music stopped and everyone stared at the clown who was leaning against the door and breathing like he had run a marathon. Yeah, that would’ve scared the shit out of me, too, buddy.

In the silence that followed, a rage-filled scream came from the strange server girl who was standing close to the guards surrounding the mayor and his family. She was staring at Roger with so much hatred that she was vibrating.

“YOU!” she screamed. “YOU HAVE RUINED EVERYTHING!”

In her rage, she slammed the pitcher down on the table in front of her. the liquid sloshed up and soaked the front of the woman’s uniform. Immediately, she started screaming and slapping at her chest and arms. Her wailing arms knocked her glasses off her face and someone gasped.

“Oh, my God, Matt! Look! I think something was in that water.” Lily pointed to where smoke was rising from the table where the water pitcher was.

I had seen that reaction before. That was what happened when hydrochloric cam in contact with metal.

Moving faster now, I yelled, “Back up! Don’t touch the table or her. Both are covered in acid. Someone get me a paramedic!” Knowing that acid spills are usually flushed with water, I ran to the garden exit, yanked it open, and looked around quickly for the garden hose I had spotted earlier this evening. Once found, I grabbed it off the spigot and turned on the water full blast. The hose even had one of those high-powered sprayer nozzles attached. I opened the door, switched it to the jet setting, pointed the nozzle at the screaming woman, and let the water fly. All of that target practice was paying off! The water struck the woman square in the chest and knocked her down, which also knocked part of the brown wig off her head. Seeing the blonde hair tumbling out, it became obvious who the woman was—Adele Harrison—and why she was so pissed at Roger. I’m not sure exactly what her plan was, but clearly she had intended to use that acid on someone else. My anger surged as I thought about Lily’s beautiful face being eaten away by acid. Knowing that killing this self-centered bitch was out of the question, I continued to spray her, doing my best to get as much of the acid off her body as possible. I could’ve stopped after ten minutes, but I kept moving the spray from her chest to her arms to prevent her from getting up. I stopped only when the paramedics and the police arrived. By that time, Roger was already talking to the mayor and his security team about what needed to happen now that the threat had been neutralized. When I walked over to Roger, the mayor was asking if the reason he had dressed as a clown was because he had received a tip about the bull.

Roger shook his head said, “No, sir. I wore the suit because I lost a bet with my boss.”

“What was the bet?”

“That I’d never be partnered with Talyn.”