“We won’t be wearin’ any of the trackin’ gear,” Brantley explained as they strolled into the building. “Only the shot vests.”
Reese wasn’t sure that was the correct name for the vests that tracked whether or not the wearer had been shot by one of the laser guns, but it was an apt description. He wouldn’t admit it out loud, but he was grateful not to wear the devices that monitored heart rate, temperature, and the like because he wasn’t sure he was ready for Brantley to know his heart was already pounding like he’d run a marathon in record time. There was no doubt he was on the verge of a panic attack, and he wasn’t even on the business end of a gun.
“If you’re not up for it, we can leave.”
Reese looked up to see Brantley was watching him closely, his expression concerned.
“I want to,” he assured him. “I just…” Reese exhaled slowly. “I’m just not sure I can.”
“Would it help if I took off my shirt?”
Reese’s gaze slammed into Brantley’s face. “That always helps.”
The smile that formed on the man’s mouth was slow and wicked and effectively eased some of the tension in his body. Of course, it caused a different type of tension, but Reese could handle that.
“Fine.”
While Reese watched, Brantley reached for the hem of his T-shirt and slowly lifted it over his head, revealing that delectable upper body, thick slabs of perfectly sculpted muscle and sinew covered by smooth, sun-kissed skin.
“Better?”
Reese could only nod as he soaked up the sight of him, relying on his body’s reaction to calm his nerves even more.
“Come on. Let’s grab vests and weapons.”
His brain processed the words, but thankfully Reese was too busy ogling him for panic to set in.
***
When Brantley had explained his concerns toRT regarding Reese’s need for reentry training, purposely not sharing that he’d witnessed Reese’s panic in the field, the man had been more than willing to grant Brantley his one wish: clear out the training center. With a single phone call, Ryan Trexler closed the place completely, giving Brantley and Reese the space to themselves.
Three hours. That wasn’t a long time in the grand scheme of things, but it would be long enough for them to work on a few scenarios that might ease Reese’s mind a little. It wouldn’t solve any major problems, but it would help to address the issue at hand, get it out in the open so they could talk more about it in the future.
Brantley knew bringing Reese here was a gamble, but he was hoping it would give them a chance to face a couple of scenarios together without the pesky interference of the real world and the dangers that lurked. Taking away the risk was key, he knew. There was a good chance this convoluted plan wouldn’t work, but he was willing to do whatever it took to help Reese through this.
“We’re gonna keep the lights on,” Brantley explained. “And we won’t be usin’ the smaller rooms.”
“So you’re sayin’ you don’t want to work on my claustrophobia today.”
There was a hint of humor in Reese’s tone, but it didn’t hide the trepidation Brantley could still hear underneath.
“We’ll deal with that later.” He grinned back at him over his shoulder. “When you’re beneath me.”
Reese laughed, just as Brantley’d hoped he would.
After passing one of the vests to Reese, Brantley put his own on. The small circular disc adhered to a light spandex fabric and covered only the chest region, reminding him way too much of the Arc Reactor on Iron Man’s suit. The fact that he would even know who Iron Man was, much less an Arc Reactor, was a testament to Reese’s insistence on watching Marvel movies. While their unit didn’t power a fancy weapon suit, it did contain sensors that tracked the accuracy of a simulated bullet. And since they’d be coming up against virtual bad guys, it was necessary to determine whether or not they’d taken a hit.
He put on his own vest with ease, then turned to see Reese was fumbling with the clasp for his because his hands were trembling. His first instinct was to help him, but he didn’t. The last thing he wanted was to draw attention to the fact Reese was already panicking, and they hadn’t started yet. Instead, he made a show of looking through the selection of weapons. Every make and model of firearm had been modified and weighted to feel like a loaded gun, although they didn’t have magazines or chambers, removing the possibility of potential accidents. Once that had been altered, they’d been set up with the laser system, giving the trainees plenty of options to ensure their success.
“I’m not sure a scenario with you as the bad guy is gonna help me,” Reese said when he finally got the harness in place. “Especially bare-chested.”
“It won’t,” he agreed. “Which is why we’re gonna use the new toy.”
“New toy?”
“It’s a work in progress, but I got the go-ahead to turn it on. Dom and Austin have been workin’ on it for a while now.”
Dominic and Austin Trexler were two of Sniper 1’s computer geniuses who’d ventured into tech design in recent years. Since Sniper 1 Security had been working with the government to test new weapons, they’d come up with the idea of an artificial intelligence system combined with a virtual reality program that would simulate whatever bad guy they programmed. They’d tried to explain how it worked, but Brantley had quickly cut them off. He wouldn’t understand it, nor did he care to. The toys were their thing, not his. He just enjoyed shooting the bad guys.
