"Okay," Ham said.
"And Ham," Harry said, "I don't think you can keep going back out there without asking at least some questions. It wouldn't seem natural to have no curiosity at all about what you're seeing there."
"What do you want me to ask them?"
"Don't get too pointed, just be easy about it. I think, at some point, you have to let them know that you're not going to get too involved until you know what's going on. It's a matter of when you believe they're starting to trust you."
"I see," Ham said.
"Of course, you don't want to get too curious," Harry said. "If they think you're too curious, they might choose to do something about you, and we wouldn't want that, would we?"
"No," Holly said, giving Ham a worried look, "we wouldn't."
35
Ham walked down the line of shooters, who were in the prone firing position, kicking their feet farther apart, telling them to get their arms vertically under the stock and to relax. They were dry-firing at paper targets no more than twenty-five feet away.
"When do we get to fire?" one of them asked.
"When you can hold the weapon steady enough and pull the trigger slowly enough to keep a bead on the center of that target without any movement whatsoever."
Ham glanced at John, who was standing a few feet away, watching the procedure.
John gave Ham a big smile. "That's telling 'em," he said.
Ham walked over and stood beside him. "They all think they're hotshots," he said. "They don't like being made to dry fire, but dry firing can make the difference between firing expert and constantly looking at Maggie's drawers." He was referring to the red flag that was waved by the checker when a shooter had missed the target entirely.
"How long will you keep them at it?"
Ham called out to the group. "Who's getting it right every time?"
A skinny kid in camouflage fatigues that were too large for him raised his hand.
"Okay, son," Ham said, "you go on over to the range and have them put up a target for you. I'll come take a look at it after a while."
The boy got up and left.
"Depends on the shooter," Ham said. "That boy might turn out to be good. We'll know in a little while."
"I'm surprised they're not all raising their hands," John said.
"They won't do that, because I've already told them that if they pass themselves too quickly, then screw up on the range, I'll send them back to dry firing, and that would be humiliating."
"You sound like you've done some time as a drill sergeant, Ham," John said.
"I've done some time at just about everything an NCO can do in the army," Ham replied.
"You know," John said, placing a friendly hand on Ham's shoulder, "I think you're going to fit in just perfectly around here."
"Nice of you to say so," Ham replied. "Now maybe you'll answer a question for me."
"Sure. What do you want to know?"
"Who the hell are you, and what's going on around here?"
John burst out laughing. "You get right to the point, don't you, Ham?"
"Why waste your time and mine?"