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“There is no hunting like the hunting of man, and those who have hunted armed men long enough and liked it, never care for anything else thereafter.” —Ernest Hemingway
The reason each and every one of us is alive today is the martial prowess and hunting abilities of our ancestors.
Civilized society tends to keep warriors at arm’s length, only turning to them in times of national emergency. Break glass in case of war.
In many ways, their choice of footwear typified their personalities. Though he’d moved around a lot, Reece was a native Californian, always looking for the latest and greatest piece of gear that might give him an edge in terms of performance. Raife was the opposite, a traditionalist who preferred the feel and soul of an earlier time. If Reece was Kydex, nylon, and Kevlar, Raife was leather, brass, and walnut.
Hanging in a purpose-built Greyman tactical rack behind the seat was a Daniel Defense MK12 with a SilencerCo Omega suppressor and a Nightforce 1-8x24mm ATACR optic mounted on the receiver’s top rail.
Stance, grip, shoulder, anchor, peep, pull, and finish, Reece thought, reviewing the basics. As with anything in life, the best do the basics exceptionally well.
“In vino veritas,” Reece said, bringing the red wine to his lips. “ ‘In wine lies the truth.’ I knew I liked you, Mr. Reece.”
“Remember what your dad used to tell us?” Reece responded in kind, nodding toward the weathered old Selous Scout. “He’s always full of what he thinks is good advice.”
“Civilized men are more discourteous than savages because they know they can be impolite without having their skulls split, as a general thing.” —Robert E. Howard, The Tower of the Elephant
if someone with mal intent enters our property, they have declared war on our family.
“Is that an SR-71?” “Everyone thinks that but it’s actually an A-12 Oxcart, the Agency’s version. It was a tad faster than the Blackbird and it only had one crew member.”
In special operations and aviation circles it was best to just accept your nickname and learn to live with it.
