“Guido was just giving me some pointers on handling this thing. Sergeant,” Spyder sez, innocent-like, her polite manners a testimony to her hard learned lessons that Smiley is not someone to hassle unnecessarily.
“Oh, so now the Bug Swatter’s an expert on crossbows, is he?” the sergeant snarls, puttin’ the cross hairs on me. ‘Thinks he’s better’n me or the range instructors at teaching marksmanship, does he?”
While trackin’ this with great attention, I nonetheless see over his shoulder that Nunzio, disguised as Bee, is firin’ his qualifyin’ round … right under the nose of the corporal, who is more interested in watchin’ the sergeant and me than in payin’ attention to what’s happenin’ at his end of the range.
“Why don’t you just show us how good you are with this weapon, acting Squad Leader Guido,” Smiley sez, snatchin’ the crossbow away from Spyder and thrustin’ it at me. “If you can qualify, then maybe I won’t bust you back into the ranks.”
Now I have been threatened by experts … literally … so this effort by the sergeant fails to generate in me the obviously desired nervousness. If anything, I am tempted to deliberately blow these shots, thereby gettin’ myself off the leadership-type hook which, as I have noted earlier, I am not particularly happy to be danglin’ from. Still, my professional abilities have been openly challenged … and in front of a skirt, even if it’s just Spyder. Besides, Nunzio has now finished qualifyin’ for Bee, so there is no incentive to prolong this diversion any longer.