Jack arrives at a barbed-wire-fenced field. It's off a highway bypass. This is the so-called shooting range? He does not like this. This place is quite isolated. He could be shot here and he doubts anyone would know. If it weren't for a line of paper practice targets of a man's silhouette hung around here, he would've thought this was just an abandoned backyard.
There are two other men shooting here. They are both wearing cowboy hats, using shot guns, shooting stuff they throw in the air.
"Bang, bang!" the two shot guns fire as Jack walks past the two men with cowboy hats.
Jack now stands behind Keith Hutchins. Keith appears to have just finished firing one round with a handgun.
Jack peers at the one human silhouette target that is across the field. Jack couldn't see any hole. Did Keith miss all his shots?
Jack squints harder to examine the paper some more. OK, there is a hole on the target. Right in the middle of the head of the man on the paper. Perfect kill shot.
Holy shit. There is one hole only. How is it possible that there's only one hole on that paper? So Keith shot exactly at one spot?
Even so, each bullet penetrating through the paper would have made the hole a little wider each time. Because there's no way each bullet can land so precisely in one small dot and not have inched out any at all. The bullet hole is less than 1 centimeter wide. Keith stands about 27 yards away from the target. Could he actually shoot so precisely, so error-free?
"Did you only fire one shot?" Jack asks.
"No. 17 shots. I have 17 bullets in this pistol."
"Then how did you…I mean, there's only one hole. It's a tiny one, too."
Keith just laughs lightly, like he's never heard of something so silly. "It just means I'm very good at what I do. I don't believe you have a gun. Here. You can use my gun." Keith quickly discards the cartridge and reloads the gun. He does it so naturally and smoothly like he's just plugging and unplugging a charger for a cell phone.
"Actually, that's fine, I don't want to shoot. I'm really here to talk to you." Jack waves.
"Ah. What is it? Pride hurt? Please, show me. I'm sure you can shoot. You're a god damn cop." Keith smiles.
"Fine." Jack takes the gun out of Keith's hand. He then aims at another paper shooting practice target.
Jack doesn't fire as fast as Keith. But he finishes all 17 bullets. And 10 of them landed in the middle of the head. 7 of them landed in the paper silhouette's left chest-- that's where the heart is.
"I see you like to aim for the heart sometimes, huh?"
"Yeah, You never know. I read a lot of spooky legends. I think, for vampires, you must shoot them in the heart with silver bullets. I'd like to practice shooting in the heart." Jack shrugs.
Keith looks on, peering at the paper target. Jack also did an excellent job. The bullets landed basically in one hole, as well, nothing spreading out of the spot that much. But in comparison, Keith still shoots a lot cleaner, as if he only fired one single shot.
Jack can obviously see that himself. He gives the gun back to Keith. At that moment, he also wonders if he should just keep the gun on him, so that Keith can't do anything to him.
Jack then asks, "So, who are you? I know your name, but I don't know anything about you."
"I've been recently discharged from Army Special Forces. Also known as the Green Berets. Last active rank, Sergeant First Class." Keith makes a heavy-eyelid smile, chin up, kind of look like he's looking down at Jack.
Jack has never been in the military, so he's not sure if that is supposed to be impressive. It sounds quite outstanding, though. He has heard of the Green Berets. They are like super selectively trained soldiers. Kind of like SEAL, right?
Keith curls one corner of his mouth upward, giving an insouciant, border-lining arrogant smile. "I now work for Senator Rick Powes and other important people behind an energy project."
"OK. Then why are you here? Shouldn't you be with that Senator?"
"I'm trying to get to you before Nitte does."
"What? And who is Nitte?"
"Oh, you don't know her? That's OK then."
"I don't know her." Jack shakes his head several times as a visual aid. Otherwise, Jack doesn't think Keith could hear him. The two cowboy-hatted men are still firing their shot guns. The noises may have cancelled out Jack's words.
Keith shrugs, "OK, well. I honestly don't know Nitte all that much, either. I just don't want her to talk to you before I do. I haven't seen her in a long while, really. Now that I've found you first, we can go find her, because I think you are a good person for it." Keith waves the loaded gun slightly.
"Alright..., a lot of finding. So you found me. You want to find her now. Do you not have to work? All you do is finding people?"
"I'm kind of the senator's problem solver. He has a bit of problem in the Midwest. He needs to get his project done for his friends."
Jack feels bored already. He is not interested in politics. He is actually not sure who this senator is.
"But anyway. For now, you just need to know I work for Senator Rick Powes. Nitte works for Senator Eleanor Abbot. And we both want to recruit you. She wants you to work for Eleanor Abbot, because just like Powes, Eleanor Abbot has a project, too. Unfortunately, her project is in direct conflict with Powes's project. So, I can't let her recruit you. I would like to recruit you first."
"I'm flattered, man. No one is ever this eager to give me a job!" Jack tries to laugh, "But I don't know either one of your projects. Plus, I don't like to get into a drama of a man and a woman," Jack tries to joke, even though he has to yell over the noises halfway through his sentence.
"Well, the project is simple. I provide my service to Powes and energy lobbyists, energy business collaborators, and make sure they get their oil drilling going. Right now, I focus on helping them buy lands. Nitte helps Abbot do the same, buying lands, but for other reasons. That's why we are in direct competition."
"What lands are you guys talking about?" Jack puts his hands on his waist.
"One part is in the southern corner of Montana. The rest of land is mainly in eastern border of Wyoming, North and South Dakota."
"So how are you helping with land? I don't think you are in real estate business." Jack snorts.
Keith laughs loudly. He then steps to the left, raises both his arms to above his chest level. He holds his handgun out. He barely tries to aim, and he just fires 17 shots consecutively into the target on the left. It was done within a few seconds.
"You are absolutely right. I'm not in the real estate business. I'm in the killing business. This is the only thing I'm good at." Keith points at the target paper.
Jack takes a few steps and peers. Oh damn! Once again, there's only one bullet hole, and no shots fall outside of that hole. If that paper silhouette is a person, it might have a very clean gunshot wound as well.
This guy is a machine! He shoots like a laser beam.
"I bet." Jack watches Keith's gun. Jack is glad there are no bullets in Keith's gun now. Because Keith is curiously pointing the gun at Jack.
Keith smiles, "So, I can only help Powes by killing. I've actually killed everyone I hate in my life already."
"Excuse me?" Jack isn't sure if he heard it right. And how the hell is killing people going to help the senators buying the lands?"