she felt like it, then she was going to have to find a job, and that
would have to be back in the U.S. Meanwhile, she was learning a lot
from Carl, who was easily the best silat player she had ever seen in
person. He was a good twenty years older than she was,
but there was an attraction that went beyond martial arts.
He was in good shape, good-looking, and, she had found out by accident,
rich. He hadn't pushed it, but Carl knew she and Alex had split, and
he was interested in her as a woman.
So far, she hadn't pursued a relationship beyond exchanging ways to
beat attackers to various kinds of pulp.
So far. It was tempting--Alex had done so with Angela Cooper, the MI-6
operative they had worked with on the Goswell operation, and Toni was
still very much pissed off at him for that. Yeah, sure, she had
stumbled with Rusty that one time, but that was before she and Alex had
become lovers. That didn't really count.
The thing was, as angry as she was at Alex, as much as she wanted to
break things and yell herself hoarse at him, she still loved him.
It was kind of hard to get around that, loving him.
Still, Carl was here, he wanted to get to know her better, and there
were no strings on her. She had an idea that Carl would probably be a
caring and considerate lover, and she and Alex hadn't spent much time
making love the last few weeks they had been together, and that had
been more than a month ago. It was a thought.
Carl was halfway to the door before Toni realized she was lost in her
thoughts.
She hurried to catch up with him.
'I've been thinking, there's a place you might like to see,' he said.
'You busy Saturday morning?'
'Not at all,' she said.
'Fine. I'll pick you up at your flat. Around eight a.m.?'
'Great.'
Quantico, Virginia
Howard had to admit that the PR had some advantages over the Smith. He
recovered the sight picture for his second shot quicker, and the
slightly longer sight radius made him more accurate. He was doing
better than he usually did with the Smith, and for a new gun, that was
fairly amazing. The trigger was crisp, maybe four pounds
single-action, ten or so double-action. These people did good work on
their hardware. Made in Piano, Texas, according to the information
stamped into the black steel.
Who would have guessed that? Texas.
Even so, Julio was beating him, just barely. And using a snub-nose
Chief's Special he had never shot before, that ought to be
impossible.
After the last go-round, Howard put the Medusa down.
He liked it. He could use it for a few days until the Smith was
repaired.
'Sergeant Fernandez, bring that little revolver here, I want to take a
look at it.'
'God hates a sore loser, John.'
