› The honeymoon had been booked.
› She had a passport.
› The plane tickets were in the safe in her craft room, not the main safe where he would see them.
› The wine tour in Italy was booked.
› The hotel in Italy was reserved through the tour company.
› The honeymoon was paid for.
› Payment had been sent to the hotel for the wedding and reception.
› She had bought a couple of weapons.
Sighing again, she closed her eyes.The fax machine was going to go off soon, and what would be on it was going to take more than she currently had.Asking him for help was the right thing to do.In her gut, she felt it.Her gut was unsettled as well.Whatever was coming would be big, and it was going to suck.
“Train for the unknown; be prepared for what is known,” she said softly, clinging to her man attempting to even out her breathing.Slowly, she found sleep.Her gut would not allow it to be peaceful.
****
TRAINING WITH THE MUSTANGbegan simply enough: a few targets affixed to trees on the property and the buildings would be used for cover and concealment.The month of May took a new turn with her man being happy to spend the weekends teaching his wife how to move from covered areas to wide open spaces.At the end of the month, he wanted to try a new training tactic with her.
“Helen, you will need to tuck and roll,” he told her, but she didn’t really want to tuck, nor did she want to roll on the ground.“You can’t simply walk into a building and say, ‘Hey, here’s my head, put a bullet in it.’”
“Have you seen some of these places where these nasty elements hide out?It is squalor, and you never know what is on those floors,” she spouted, scowling at him.“I may tuck and roll myself into a pile of an unhoused man’s fecal droppings, or worse, his midnight rub out.”
“That is a distressing visual,” Mustang said.
“Again, the inside of these buildings, eewww,” she said, raising the nose of her paintball gun.
“Okay, fine, but next we have to look at takedowns,” he told her.“I am twice your size and nearly fifty pounds heavier.You can use my weight against me.”
“Passion Fruit tried to teach me this, but I got all caught in my head with the calculations.”
“Don’t calculate; look at me,” he demanded.“Where do you think my weak point is on my body, and don’t say my junk.”
“Knees?”
“No, midsection.Yes, my core is solid,” he said.But if you come at me full force and throw your weight into my midsection, you will throw me off balance.Once I am down, you can either take me out or subdue me with a well-placed blow to the head.”
“Or I can shoot you in the knee and watch you cry,” she told him.
Mustang watched her face.“True, but if you are in a situation where you don’t want to fire the weapon, then what?”
“Knock your big ass out.”
“How?”
“Aim for your weak spot using my body weight,” she said, offering a sheepish grin.
He shook his head.“You’re just playing at being cute.Let’s work.”
Mustang took off at a slow jog, Helen on his heels.They ran a quarter of a mile up the back side of the property, and he stopped.Using his hand signals, he told her to wait behind a bale of hay.She didn’t know where the hay bale had come from, but he must have ordered it for them to play war games.Suddenly, she heard a clicking sound.His voice, low and menacing, called her name.
“Helen...sweet Helen, where are you?I’m coming to find you,” he whispered menacingly.
The hairs on her neck stood up.The fun little game was taking a turn.Her fight-or-flight instincts kicked in.On her feet, she began to back up, thinking she could make it back to the homestead where she could lie in wait for him.The sound of his feet picking up the pace meant he was running.He knew where she was hiding because he had told her to wait there.
