Logan saw him.
“Something funny, Warren?”
“No, sir.”
The gray-haired visiting instructor stepped closer to Daniel.
She had been staring at him since he spoke.
“Cross?”
Daniel looked at her.
Recognition arrived on both faces at the same time.
“Mara Jensen,” he said.
She laughed once in disbelief.
“You have got to be kidding me.”
Every trainee turned.
Logan’s expression darkened.
“You know him?”
Jensen looked at Daniel’s contractor badge.
“I spent six months trying to beat his moving-target score.”
Daniel sighed.
“You did beat it.”
“After you retired.”
“Still counts.”
The second visiting instructor walked closer.
“This is Daniel Cross?”
Now Logan looked genuinely unsettled.
Jensen nodded.
“Senior Chief Daniel Cross. Former sniper instructor. Range development team. He helped design the original version of this target problem.”
The motorized plate continued moving in the distance.
For the first time that morning, Logan had nothing to say.
Daniel picked up one of the brushes from the tray.
“Retired,” he said. “And currently maintenance support. Both can be true.”
Jensen looked at the muddy cloth.
“What happened to that?”
Daniel glanced at Logan.
“Long story.”
Logan’s face flushed.
“Nobody told me who he was.”
Daniel’s eyes settled on him.
“Would it have changed how you treated me?”
Logan did not answer.
That was answer enough.
The range safety officer secured the optic assembly and documented the issue. Logan wanted to resume immediately.
Jensen stopped him.
“Not yet.”
He turned. “Ma’am?”
“The rifle gets a confirmation check before anyone continues.”
“I can do it.”
“I know you can. Caleb will.”
Caleb’s head lifted.
“Me?”
Jensen nodded.
Logan looked insulted.
