Chapter 6Cal got his rifle and handgun from the armory after breakfast and reported to the helipad as instructed. There was no helicopter up there, just a young woman with long brown hair fluttering in the breeze. She was dressed in practical gear like everyone else around here, dusty and patched jeans and a sleeveless shirt, sneakers on her feet. But she had makeup on. Not on his account, he hoped.
“Hi, I’m Tanya,” she said, shaking his hand. “Didn’t get a chance to talk to you at dinner. The crowd was too thick.”
“I’m a novelty,” he said. “Calvin Richardson. Call me Cal.”
“Cal. Hi. So, Bren wants me to assess your shooting skills and train you—if needed—to get you to the same standard as our soldiers.”
“Why you? Thought Bren herself would be the one to do it?”
“I’m the best shot. Co
