Caleb 89 - Shooter

That wouldn't have worked, I'd have simply taken him down as I did in any case.

But why? What was my reason for not wanting to kill him. Was it for him, or for me?

I concluded that I wouldn't want to kill him not because I cared for him, but because I thought that lethal force was a last resort. If there was any chance of resolving a situation without resorting to it, then that should be the chosen path.

I wasn't particularly upset that the shooter had killed himself no more, say, than I would be about any other complete stranger dying for whatever reason. That turned my thoughts to Bobbi Frazer. Why had I been so upset to hear of her death? I didn't know her either. Was it because she was young, female, and pretty? Or was there something else.

Maybe because she was innocent, and my shooter wasn't.

I picked up my sandwich again and started eating. I had another session starting in ten minutes. If I didn't eat now, I wouldn't get the chance. It would be unprofessional to have a half eaten lunch on display during a consultation.

I concluded that the death of my shooter, while sad, wasn't any of my concern. In some ways it worked to my favor, since there would be nobody for the FBI or any other government agencies to study, at least until they found someone else immune to powers. I had a head start, and I knew just who I was going to use as a guinea pig.

Friday I spent in the air. I'd finally completed all the hours I needed to get my Complex, High-powered, and instrument rating. All that was left was my Commercial and Instructor.

For the most part my commercial required much more flight time. I had about seventy hours on my logbook. I wondered how I was going to get the experience I needed. Danny came up with a suggestion.

"There are companies," he said, "that ferry aircraft from place to place. A bit like what you did with the Baron. Once you have your full ratings you could do some of that to get your flight time. It might mean some time away from home, but it will get you in the air.

"I know a guy who has a company specializing in moving aircraft. You won't get any international runs, but there are quite a lot of small aircraft movements around the country, as they're bought and sold. I wouldn't normally suggest this to such a new pilot, but you don't fly like a new pilot, I'm certain you'd be able to do this."

"Let's get my instrument rating check ride booked," I said, "and get all my other certifications signed off. Then perhaps you and I could talk to him?"

"Also?" I said. "Who do you know that teaches rotary wing?"

He looked at me eyes wide.

"You can fly choppers too?" he asked amazed.

"Of course not," I told him with a grin. "I want to learn."

He shook his head.

"Come with me," he said. We walked across the apron, and down the side of a hangar, emerging around the other side, before circling around to where there was a helicopter parked on another apron around the other side of the hangar.

He knocked on the door of an office.

"Danny," an older guy called as we entered. He looked at me with interest.

"Joe," he said, "this is Caleb. He's just qualified PPL and wants to learn rotary wing as well."

"Nice to meet you," he said.

"Can you do me a favor, and take him up for a quick pattern," Danny said. "I'm betting he's a natural."

Joe looked at Danny.

"You flown choppers before?" he asked me. I shook my head.

"Trust me," said Danny.

Joe bit his lip.

"This way," he said leading me out to the helicopter that was parked on the Apron. It was a Robinson R44, strangely the model Gerry had first learned to fly rotary wing in.

He opened the left-hand door.

"Jump in," he said. I obliged.

"Mind if I sit in?" Danny asked. Joe shook his head, and Danny got into one of the rear seats. Joe took up the right-hand seat.

I looked around the cockpit, re-familiarizing myself with the controls. I took hold of the collective, and moved it, making sure it was free and moved without issues, and almost instinctively ran through the in-cockpit checks getting the aircraft ready to start.

Joe watched me, biting his lip.

"Okay," he said as I applied the rotor brake to slow and stop the main rotor. "What gives?"

"I'm just looking to get my license," I said. "I've had training elsewhere, but it doesn't count toward anything the FAA will accept. So, I have to start all over again.

"What are you twenty?" he asked.

"Twenty-one," I said.

"And before you ask," said Danny with a grin, "He works for the FBI, so there's no need to worry about that either."

I spent some time talking to the pair of them. I was certain that flight time in a helicopter would be counted towards my Commercial requirement, as long as I completed 100 hours in a fixed wing aircraft.

Things were starting to move along.

+++++

"Don't forget," said Amanda as we ate breakfast on Saturday morning. "Natalie is coming for dinner tonight."

I had forgotten.

"What exactly is the plan with her?" I asked. "Debs said that she'd had a breakup with her asshole boyfriend. What do you think she's actually looking for?"

"I guess we'll find out," said Mary. "If she's looking for something serious then we can give her a good meal, some decent conversation, and let her go her way. If she's just looking for some fun, then we can have some fun."

"And what if she doesn't know exactly what she's looking for?" I asked.

"I'm sure that between us all," Amanda said. "We can figure it out."

We were in Costco, getting part of our weekly shop when my phone chimed.

­­­_Natalie has cold feet. Would you mind very much if I came with her? - Debs.

I showed it to Amanda, her eyebrows went up.

"Now that's interesting," she said.

_Not at all. I returned.

­_See you at seven.

We finished our shop and headed home.

Arnie came over for dinner. He wasn't flying Sunday, so he was going to stay overnight. Danny apparently had gone on a stag night with one of his buddies, a friend of Joe's. He wasn't expected back until late Sunday.

I'd decided to go simple and did a lasagne, with a pana cotta to finish. I would serve it with a simple salad, and no garlic bread. Nobody wanted that much garlic if there was likely to be intimacy afterward. Most people liked Italian. I just hoped that Natalie wasn't vegetarian. We were screwed if she was. For the first time in forever I'd forgotten to ask.

It was Amanda that answered the door, letting the pair of policewomen in. Both were wearing jeans and T-Shirts, and both had very nice asses, which I noticed as Amanda showed them into the living room.

She took a couple of beers in for them. I was still finishing things off in the kitchen.

I'd put the lasagne in the oven. It would be ready in about ten minutes.

I joined the girls and Arnie in the living room bringing my own beer in with me. Debs and Natalie were sitting side by side on one of the sofas. Natalie had chosen to sit at the end of the sofa, so when Amanda had seated herself next to the pair, she was sitting next to Debs.

"You hear about your shooter?" asked Debs. I nodded. I'd told the girls so they knew too.

"Shame," I said. "He obviously needed help, but I guess it's too late for him now."

"Why do you think he did it?" asked Natalie. "The shooting I mean."

"I'm guessing," I told her, "that he'd been refused entry to PSU and wasn't pleased about it. He said the Dean had called him stupid, but I'm also fairly sure that's something the Dean wouldn't do. I'm guessing he said something like - he'd be better off at the community college, and that he was setting himself up to fail."

Sarah's head came up at that, and she looked at me.

"That's what he said to me." she said.

"He told me," I said, having not divulged this piece of information, that he was very pleased with your progress. I'm guessing you'll hear from him before the end of the year. He was so pleased with you, that he offered me a job."

Everyone laughed at that.

"How does that work?" asked Debs.

"It's because of Caleb's coaching," said Sarah, "that my scores have improved. I guess he figures if he can do that with me, then he might be able to help other students that are struggling."

I noticed Amanda rolling safety, security, and relaxation over Natalie, and also a little horniness. I was about to object, but then I saw her take Debs hand. I smiled to myself.

"I think dinner is about ready," I said. "Sorry Natalie, I forgot to ask. Is there anything you don't eat?"

"It's a bit late now," said Debs.

"I could fix her a sandwich," I grinned. Natalie actually laughed and shook her head.

"As long as it's edible, I'll eat it," she said.

We went through to the kitchen, Natalie still holding Deb's hand. I caught Amanda's eye and indicated them, and she grinned and nodded.

"This is the best lasagne I've ever tasted," Natalie said.

"Thank you," I said. "The chef in the family is working tonight, I just throw stuff together and hope it works."

"Fuck off," said Sarah. "You're every bit as good as Ness as a chef and you know it. Gordon Ramsay told you he'd give you a job if you wanted it didn't he?"

"Not quite," I said. But that prompted questions about when I'd met the famous chef, and we had to recount the story.

We finished dinner, and dessert, and had adjourned to the living room. I made coffee and we settled in to chat.

"So," Natalie asked, after a few moments silence. "How did you meet Debs?"

"Oh," I said. "Therein lies a tale."

Debs told the story, from her point of view.

"And so this cocky kid comes up to me and takes my notebook. He writes two numbers on it."

"What's that about? I asked," Deb continued.

"The top number, he told me, is the combination to the phone, in case you forget. It's important to him so if you find a safe... then he looks at the guy and figures out he has a floor safe in his bedroom and that the combination would be either the first or the last four digits of the number to unlock his phone.

"I thought he was just pulling my chain, but when we searched his house we found a safe exactly where he said it would be, and the combination was the four numbers as he'd said.

"Then I asked him, what about the bottom number? He grins at me, with a twinkle in his eye, and, right in front of all his fiancées he said, 'that's my number'."

"Wow," Natalie said. "That's some game."

"That's what Steve, my partner, said."

"And did you call?" Natalie looked at Debs, who flushed but smiled.

"That," she said, "I think is a story for another time."

Natalie thought about that for a moment.

"So," she said, looking at me. "How did you figure out his password?"

"It's easy," I said. "People are really easy to read if you know what to look for. I made suggestions of numbers and he simply reacted when I got to the right one."

"Surely it can't be that simple," she said.

"Test him," said Debs. "Give him your phone and see if he can figure out your code."

Natalie fished out her phone and handed it to me.

I immediately knew her unlock code, since it was blazing from her mind. It was her date of birth. May sixth nineteen ninety nine. 5699. Not a very secure number but hey.

"Okay," I said. "You look to me like someone who doesn't like to fuss with their phone. So your code will probably be the minimum available - four digits. You also asked me twice for my phone number when we spoke, so you don't remember numbers easily, so I'm guessing it's a number that's important to you. Since it's four figures, I'm guessing a date. Most likely your date of birth.

Natalie flushed.

"Now I know that you have to be at least 21 to be a police officer, but they like you to have at least 2-3 years on the job to be on SWAT..." I was looking intently at Natalie as I said this. "Three years experience which puts you at twenty four. So I'm guessing you were born in 1999. That puts the last two digits at nine nine. Tut tut not very secure." Natalie colored even more.

"You're obviously a spring baby, so I'm thinking April, May... ah May so your first digit is five which makes your code something 5 something 99. So are we talking the beginning or end of May? Beginning then. Not right at the beginning though. A little way in. Fifth? Sixth? Ah ok."

I typed in 5699 and her phone unlocked.

I handed it back to her.

"How..." she said. Looking from me to her phone.

"You might want to change that," I said conversationally, "It's not very secure."

"But how?" she asked again.

"It's like I said. I read people. It's not hard if you know what to look for."

She looked from me to Debs who smiled at her. They were still holding hands.

Then she looked back at me.

"If you read people so well," she asked. "Why did you invite me to dinner?"

"Because I wanted to help you," I said, lying through my teeth. "You see I saw something out there, something that you are aware of, but you're not admitting to yourself. You proved it to me, when you asked Debs to come with you, and by holding her hand pretty much all evening."

"What?" she said defensively. "I haven't..."

"It's okay," I said. "Because you're not the only one. I know, for instance that Debs wants nothing more right now, than to kiss you. And you, even though you've never been with a girl before, are wondering what that would be like, and are hoping to find out."

Natalie looked at Debs, her eyes wide.

"I'm not.." she said, clearly lying. Debs smiled at her softly.

"He's never been wrong that I've noticed," she said. "And he is right that I want to kiss you."

Natalie sat frozen for a moment, I felt Amanda rolling comfort, safety, and acceptance over her. I grimaced but Amanda just grinned.

"Would that be okay?" Debs asked.

Natalie gave the tiniest of nods, and Debs leaned in.

While they were distracted, we left them to it, moving back into the kitchen and talking quietly.

"I guess we turned Debs on to girls," Amanda chuckled.

"I figured something was going on with what Debs said to us about Natalie's last boyfriend. She's obviously been interested for some time."

"Quite a while," said Debs from the doorway. She was grinning at us, still holding Natalie's hand. Natalie looked flushed and flustered.

"It was nice meeting you Natalie," I said, knowing that the pair were going to leave and explore their new relationship. "Debs, always a pleasure. Keep in touch, and maybe when you two have figured things out you can come over for dinner again."

"That would be nice," Debs said. "But perhaps a little premature. We have some talking and...stuff to do."

I stood up and walked over to Natalie, and took her free hand.

"Don't think about what your parents will think, or the guys down the squad room. Make the decision for yourself, think about what will make you happy. Okay?"

Her eyes widened, since she'd been thinking about exactly that.

She nodded slightly, still shaken by the events of the night.

Debs led her out, the door closing softly behind them.