Desmoterion, page 9
Trent grabbed Girish’s right arm and pulled it.
Girish screamed, glaring at Trent. “What? Are you trying to crack that rib as well?”
“I didn’t crack your rib; someone or something else did, and I want to know how.”
Girish turned away.
“Answer me, Kannan, or I’ll give you a broken arm to match your rib.”
Girish bit his lip. “I’ve been practicing moves with the other recruits after class.”
“And? That’s what you’re supposed to do.”
“Moves that Mike hasn’t been teaching us. One move was a roll, and I did it, but I thought I pulled a muscle in my rib at the time. Then, one of the newer recruits hit me in that spot, and it started hurting more. I thought I could just let it heal, but that’s hard to do when you have class every day.”
“Instead, you made it worse.” Trent let go of Girish’s arm. “Don’t hide injuries from us, or things could be a lot worse. It’s not like no one gets hurt here, as you found out on your first mission. Hell, you don’t even need to tell me about it and just come straight here. They’ll tell me eventually, but at least you won’t die from an infection.”
“Admitting weakness is not an option here. I’ve seen it used against people.”
“That’s true, but sending injured recruits out into the field is even more dangerous. We want you to be in the best shape possible, hence the daily training and workouts.”
Girish’s jaw clenched.
Trent saw it and thought back to what he’d read in Girish’s file. “Look, I know you’ve had to move on from bumps and bruises a lot in your life, but you need to heal up at times.”
“How do you know about my life?”
“It’s my job to know everything about you.” Trent moved away from the bed. “That’s how I picked you. My goal is to pick those who will grasp a new chance in life.”
“Everything about my life?”
“Well, not every minute of it.” Trent’s eyebrow rose. “But I know enough.” He shuffled over to the doorway. “Despite what you’ve heard, weakness happens. The key is to make sure you learn to grow stronger. Not just physically stronger, but mentally as well. The latter is not so easy to correct, but you’re dealing with it via training just like I did.”
“You had a troubled childhood?”
“I’ve dealt with it the best I can. You’re not the only one here with that kind of background. In fact, most of the recruits I’ve picked are people along those lines. Some are trying to exorcize their demons with fights, and some are just trying to feel alive after being so dead inside for so long.”
Girish frowned. “But doesn’t that work against you if they just shut down from it all? I knew guys in prison that still had nightmares about stuff that happened to them as kids.”
“A few don’t cope. I don’t expect them to like every aspect of what we do, as I wouldn’t say I love it all. If they don’t strive to improve, then they are eliminated. Most seem to excel because it’s better than being in prison.”
“That’s the only good thing here, at least until your fellow recruits have reamed you for speaking out in class. Is there a reason they think we’ll all be killed if one person questions things?”
Trent shook his head. “We’ve never eliminated a whole group of recruits just because of that. I’d say it’s more they’re paranoid from prison. They think anyone in authority is against them. They have to put on a façade of obedience to ensure they’re not singled out, which is counter productive. It makes us notice them.”
* * *
Emyr glanced up from his worktable. “Ready to learn about guns?”
“I guess so. I’ve never held one. Never thought I ever would.”
“And quite right too.” Emyr laughed and pulled out a sleek black handgun. “Not many tellurians have seen a gun outside of movies unless they’re in the military. This is the standard issue gun for most Desmoterion operatives.”
Girish picked it up with his right hand to hold it. “It’s heavier than I thought it would be.”
“You wouldn’t believe how many recruits tell me that when they first hold it.”
Girish flushed a little. “Does Trent use one of these?”
Emyr rummaged in another case and pulled out a similar looking weapon. “Trent uses this one. He doesn’t like the extra weight of the standard-issue gun. Since he doesn’t go out much for missions any more, it’s left unused at the moment.”
“Yeah, I can see why he chose this,” Girish picked up Trent’s firearm and smiled. “It’s lighter, but it would fit his big hands better than that other one.” He pointed it at the air and looked along it. “Hell, I like the feel of this. It’s not too bulky or heavy for shooting.”
Emyr’s eyebrow rose.
“What?”
“The fact that you can align the sights without me teaching you how to do it.” Emyr took the gun out of Girish’s hand.
“I’ve seen it done in movies. It makes sense when you do it.”
Emyr put Trent’s weapon away. “Well, we can always give you a gun close to Trent’s, if that’s what you want. For now, get used to the standard one, as all recruits are supposed to learn with it first. Once you become a full operative, then you can pick and choose.”
“Like Arden?”
Emyr headed into the back to pull out a shiny black rifle with multiple sights on it. “This is Arden’s for most missions. He tends to take out people at a distance, hence the full-sized rifle. Though for the mission you were on, he just uses the normal handgun like the recruits use. There’s no point in using a rifle for up close shots.”
“Is that huge because he’s so tall?” Girish gaped at the large weapon.
“Pretty much. We had to have it customized for this length. That’s why it’s only used for specific missions like stealth or back up. Beyond that, it stays with me until he’s ready for it. That’s my job — preparing gear for those going into the field.”
“And teach newbies like me.” Girish got up from the chair, bracing himself on the table as he did.
“We’re not done yet.” Emyr pushed Girish back down. “I want to make sure you know how to load a gun first. I can’t take you shooting yet as it’ll pull on your ribs, but I can make sure you know how to work it. Also, to clean it as well.”
Girish picked the handgun up, turning it over his hand. “I assume there’s some kind of latch to release the bullets?”
Emyr leaned over and pushed a button on the side of the gun. Out popped the clip filled with bullets. “Now push it back in, and you try to eject it.”
Girish pushed the clip back in with an audible click. He pushed the same button as Emyr did, and it released again. “Seems easy enough.” He pulled the clip out and studied it. “So looking at it this way will tell you how many bullets are in it?”
“Correct. Turn it on its side, and there’s an indicator of how full the cartridge is. In this case, it’s topped off by an extra bullet. We do that in case the recruit needs an extra round. Traditionally, you wouldn’t normally do that. In fact, Trent specifically asks for it not to be done with his gun. Not that he uses many bullets on most missions, but I try to have it the way he wants it.”
Girish rolled his eyes. “Doesn’t surprise me. He thinks he’s too good for an extra bullet.”
“Well, it’s partly true. He is good.” Emyr took the gun and clip out of Girish’s hands. “But that’s not the reason. More like he doesn’t want it to jam at the wrong moment. That’s been known to happen with topping off bullets. Trent won’t have time to fiddle with it like the recruits do. If he’s going in, he’s shooting to kill and needs a gun that isn’t going to fail him.”
“From what I’ve heard, Trent hasn’t been in the field much for ages.”
“Sometimes, we don’t need him to intervene.” Emyr put the clip back in and laid the firearm on the table. “If Arden’s out there, Trent’s more valuable back here. When we have a big mission, we need most of the trained operatives at once.”
“I bet sitting on your ass for months on end can’t be good.”
“Is that what you think Trent does?” Emyr chuckled. “He’s constantly working out to keep himself in shape with Mike or planning missions with Kipper and our leader. And monitoring the recruits.” He stopped to frown. “In fact, sometimes I worry he’s not getting enough sleep because he’s busy working himself to death.”
“All I see Trent doing is sitting in his office or watching over the classes.”
A snort rang out next to them. “I do plenty that you’re not privy to see.”
Girish groaned at Emyr. “Why is it that every time I say something about him, he’s right behind me?”
Emyr gave Trent an amused look.
Trent moved in front of Girish. “Let’s just say I know when you’re speaking out against me because your emotions come out full force in your voice. Incidentally, that’s how Mike beat you last week. You were too worked up about me to pay attention, so fix that.”
“Stop annoying me, and I will!” Girish gritted his teeth, getting out of the chair to face Trent.
Trent shoved Girish back down. “Sit down and stop acting out even though you’re injured.”
Girish’s jaw clenched, his hands balling up at his sides.
“Are you two done? We have work to do.”
Trent glanced at the handgun on the table. “Time to clean it?”
“How did you know that?” Emyr asked.
“Girish isn’t holding the gun nor playing with the clip. The next logical step for someone not going to the firing range is learning how to clean a gun.”
“Do you mind? We have work to do without you.” Girish glared at Trent.
Trent picked up the gun, took out the clip, and placed it on the table. He undid the barrel from the handle. “Basically, you want to see if there’s anything down the barrel that could interfere with the bullet’s release. To do that, you have to lube the barrel and use a brush to get out any debris from the firing.”
Emyr opened his gun cleaning kit and handed Trent a brush with a raised eyebrow.
Trent ignored it and put the brush down the barrel. “This one looks like it’s been cleaned recently, as I don’t even see any gunpowder residue.”
“It has been cleaned. This is an example of what a clean gun should look like.” Emyr beamed.
Trent reassembled the firearm, locking the barrel back in and handing the weapon back to Emyr. “Then give me a dirty one.”
Emyr took another gun from his work table and handed it to Trent.
Trent removed the clip, undoing the barrel from the handle. He looked down the barrel and said, “There we go. Take a look at that.”
“Why are you doing this?” Girish frowned at Trent.
“Just do it.”
Girish took the gun, peered down the barrel, and was amazed by the stuff all along the inside of the barrel. “Huh, stuff does get stuck in there.”
“If enough stuff gets in there, it will either prevent the gun from firing or have the bullet come back at you. Neither is a good option, which is why I’m sure Emyr inspects every weapon he gets back from the operatives. To not do so would not only jeopardize his life, but others who use his gear.”
“Spare me the public service announcement.” Emyr scoffed.
Trent glanced up. “That wasn’t for you; it was for Girish. What I’m trying to say is Girish should always inspect any firearm for anything that could cause problems. That’s the whole reason we have this training in the first place — another set of eyes to inspect the gear.”
Emyr folded his arms across his chest.
“When there are several men all calling for your attention, even you can’t find time to check every little thing. It’s one thing if it’s a simple three-man mission like the last one, but I’ve seen in the past where you didn’t inspect everything first. Nothing occurred at the time, but I want to instill in all the future operatives to check everything for defects.”
“Are you finished? I’m the one who is supposed to be training Girish, not you.” Emyr took the gun out of Girish’s hands.
“Fair enough; I just want to make sure he’s ready.” Trent backed away from the table. “It’s important that he knows how crucial it will be in the field to have a functioning weapon, is all I’m saying.”
“I trust Emyr’s abilities more than yours.” Girish motioned at Emyr.
“Emyr won’t always be there to help you. Eventually, you’ll have to trust others, and it’s that very trust you should be careful about.”
Girish was about to respond when Trent walked away. He glanced up at Emyr. “What was that all about?”
* * *
“What’s wrong?” Mike’s eyebrow rose when he spotted Emyr coming his way in the workout area. “By the look on your face, I’m guessing you had a run in with someone.”
“Fucking Trent.” Emyr hit a nearby punching bag. “Sometimes he makes me so angry that I want to punch him. Though there wouldn’t be any point because he’d fucking dodge it just to spite me.”
“Pretty much, but that’s Trent for you.” Mike laughed. “He tends to get under everyone’s skin, you know that. It’s not you, it's him. Still, he keeps everyone on their toes, but whether that’s a good thing is a whole other story.”
“He barged into my teaching of Girish how to clean and load a gun like I was too stupid to do it myself and then questioned my ability to keep my gear clean. He claimed that if there were a lot of people around me, I would just deal with them and not inspect everything I give them.”
“Well, he’s kind of not wrong.”
With a huff, Emyr glared at Mike.
“Look, anyone having to deal with others can get distracted at times.” Mike went on hastily. “Don’t get mad at me. He has his reasons for making sure Girish is up to speed. You and I both know how important it is for individuals to know how to look after their weapons, Girish included, if it all goes according to plan.”
Emyr leaned on the nearby wall. “It’s still annoying to be accused of being negligent. Like he can do no wrong.”
“You know that’s not true. He’s fucked up many times and chastises himself over it later. You have to understand his position, Girish is slated to take over a higher level role, so he wants to make sure Girish has all the tools.”
“There's another thing,” Emyr lowered his voice. “I think his interest in Girish isn’t just business.”
“How do you figure?” Mike’s eyes narrowed.
“He’s always interfering when Girish is learning from someone else. And despite the bluster, I think Girish is falling for him.
“Nah. Can’t be.” Mike smirked.
“You watch how Girish talks about him. He’s not indifferent to Trent.”
Mike’s eyebrow rose. “I’ve never known Trent to have any interest in operatives. He needs Girish to trust him, but that’s about it. I doubt he has designs on Girish.”
“But Girish is falling for Trent. I can see it when he talks about him. Despite what he says, it’s how he says it. Like today, with Trent’s firearm and commenting on Trent’s hands. Only someone obsessing over another would say anything like that.” Emyr stared at Mike's hands in a most unsubtle way.
Mike chuckled. “Or maybe Girish was making a slight at Trent for picking a light-weight weapon when he’s so big and strong. From what I’ve seen, Girish hates Trent. He acts out in anger, gets flustered easily, and makes stupid moves when Trent is remotely nearby.”
“Precisely! Isn’t that the hallmark of falling in love? Or at the very least, self-loathing enough to hate how he feels about Trent.”
“I can’t profess to know the inner workings of Girish’s mind.” Mike shrugged. “But I can tell you, Trent can be used against him in pretty much every sparring match I’ve had with him. That’s how we figured out he was hiding an injury from us. All I had to do was mention Trent’s name, and then suddenly, Girish was not guarding correctly and flailing about like a newbie. If anything, Trent is the key to killing Girish.”
“Which is a weakness and not a good thing.”
“It isn’t, and I’ve been hoping to cure it, but it’s been slow going. The problem is he’s only motivated to press on because of his hatred towards Trent and wanting to beat the shit out of him. So, yeah, obsessed with Trent. Take that away, and we have an operative that isn’t driven to succeed.”
“Yeah, well, Trent isn’t helping. His interference in most things is only sending the wrong message to Girish.”
“Maybe that’s the whole point?” Mike stroked his chin. “He’s purposely frustrating Girish. He’s egging him on, so it will keep him motivated.”
“But if Girish gets good enough to beat Trent, then what? Trent can’t push him along after that.”
Mike laughed. “I can’t see that ever happening. No matter how hard Girish works, he's a tellurian; he’s not going to beat a Morib. Trent simply has unbeatable speed and senses and strength. I’m pretty sure things will happen way before Girish is strong enough or even mentally capable of coming close to equaling Trent one on one.”
“So Trent’s doing what, biding his time until something comes up?”
“Exactly, and really, it’s in Trent’s best interest if he does it that way.” Mike moved away from Emyr. “Then he can push Girish when the hatred is still burning.”
CHAPTER SIX
After a month of rest, Girish was back in Mike’s class, taking light contact from the more skilled fighters. Any of the newer classmates wouldn’t have the self control to prevent Girish from further hurt.
Mike stopped the class and smiled at the recruits. “Well, we’ve come much further than I expected us to come. That’s a good thing, because some of you will start getting field missions as operatives or additional training with Emyr for weapons.”
“We’re done?” Girish blinked.
Mike raised a smile. “Not in the slightest, but you’re now far enough along to handle yourself should the need arise in the field. I’m still going to teach all of you more advanced moves, but that comes after the weapons’ training.”
