Wings from Death

Chapter Thirteen

I breathed steadily, my heart racing, threatening to burst from my chest. Why is it so hard to remain calm? I drew my pistol up to eye level, glaring down the sights at the paper target that hung down range. I took a deep breath, and exhaled slowly, my aim waivering over the target. I took another breath, I could feel my heart beat slowing as I relaxed. I sqeezed the trigger. The gun jolted backwards in my grip, as a hole appeared in the paper down range. The slide had locked open, I was out of bullets. I removed the magazine and placed the gun down on the bench in front of me. I turned and exited the cubicle, Scott was on my right, he had also finished his shot. I removed the earmuffs that hugged my head.

"You're not a bad shot there Carter, you'll be a welcome addition to the team."

"Thanks."

"I honestly wasn't expecting someone like you to show up. When we heard a new detective was coming into town, I thought we'd have a guy who sat at a desk all day 'solving cases.'"

"Ha! Sure I'll be doing that too, but I am assigned to analyse the crime scenes and question witnesses and suspects."

I turned my head downrange, five holes were grouped on the paper silhouette, around the centre of the human-shaped target.

"And maybe, if I can improve," I raised my hand, gesturing to the target, "I could even get into first response units."

"Well, best of luck to you," Scott turned and grabbed his gun and ammunition, "I'm getting some lunch, care to join?"

"Sure," I grabbed my gun and holstered it, turning to follow Scott as we exited the range.

It was a week ago I was inducted into the precinct. I had set about improving my marksmanship, so most days I was in the precinct's underground range. I knew a performance assessment was coming up soon, it'd be a great opportunity to leave a lasting impression on my colleagues.

"Scott, How long have you been at the precinct?" I quickened my pace to catch up to him.

"Six years, I started training in the academy as soon as I left school, and as luck would have it, I was assigned under the supervision of my own uncle."

"You mean Captain Walter?"

"I apologise, I shouldn't get sloppy with formalities, even if the man is related."

I nodded. From what he told me I gathered Scott was about twenty-eight, but I couldn't be sure.

We walked through the halls and after a short elevator climb, we found ourselves in the underground car park. Scott reached into his pocket as he marched over to the lineup of parked cars. Keys chimed while Scott unlocked his vehicle.

"You jumping in?" Scott called, he swung his door open and rested his arm on top.

I approached, and ducked into his low car. The engine quickly roared to life.

"Where are we headed?"

"I know a good place, I'm a regular there."

I didn't bother asking, I just relaxed, sinking into the softness of the seat.

"This is a nice car," I scanned the luxurious interior, "I can't say I've seen one like it before."

"It's an Italian import, I had the factory custom build the interior and console."

"Very stylish."

"That's not all," he said with a smirk painted on his face.

The car rolled out of the parking lot, ascending ramps until the asphalt met its tyres. Scott planted his foot. A powerful roar erupted from the engine of the car, smoke billowed out from wheels as they spun uncontrollably.

"They fitted the most powerful engine they could at the time of manufacture; well given what they could fit under the hood."

I couldn't help but grin as the car rocketed along the empty streets. Scott guided the vehicle through turns and alleys until we had reached thicker traffic along the central business district. I glanced out the window; the streets bustled with human life. Many restaurants and cafe's lined the footpath, attracting hungry mobs of people to their doors.

I waited in the comfort of the car until it came to a halt. I stepped out, closed the door behind me and followed Scott across the street. He had approached the entrance of what seemed like a tavern, a metal silhouette of a sailing ship hung above the wooden door

He turned to me "Welcome, to The Sirens Call," he pushed on the wooden door, gesturing me inside.

The familiar scent of beer filled my nostrils. Glasses chimed while plates clattered. A strong scent of garlic wafted from the kitchen at the back of the room. Polished wooden planks covered the floor. The bar stretched forward of my right side, three tenders stood behind eagerly awaiting the next customer's order.

"Ah Scott! Welcome back," A rounded man behind the counter noticed us entering "Who's this joining you?"

"This is Dustin, he's the new detective."

"Welcome Dustin!" His lips stretched broadly across his face "Any friend of Scott's is a friend of mine."

The man reached his hand over the counter as an offering of a handshake. I quickly accepted the offer, in avoidance of appearing rude.

"Sorry, but i didn't catch your name," I returned my hand back to my side.

"Osman," he gestured towards the dining area "Please, take a seat, one of the wait staff will take your order."

"Thanks."

I picked a table by a window, where I could clearly see the entrance way, Scott followed and sat opposite me. I glanced around the room, there were three distinct groups seated at different tables: what seemed like a family gathering, a group of men in business attire, and Scott and I. There were other individuals scattered around the room, however, they weren't as obvious to notice.

"Osman seems like a nice guy, have you known him a long time?"

"I've known him all my life, well for most of it, he's a family friend."

"I see"

A  waitress had approached our table, "Can I take your order?"

"Sure, could I please get the carbonara, and you Dustin?"

"Oh, t-bone steak, medium-rare, thanks"

"No worries, any drinks with that?"

"Just water please," I stated.

"Won't be a minute."

The waitress wandered off and set about doing her job. I turned to Scott.

"What are your thoughts on the upcoming assessment?"

"I think they're a waste of time. Well you're skills aren't going to deteriorate if you keep regularly practicing. So why can't they hold mandatory practicing rather than a bi-annual assessment where participants have to practice in their own time."

"I think it's structured that way to minimize interference with police duties, you do have a good point however"

"Well hey, we just gotta roll with it. Not a lot we can do about it, except do our best, right?"