The FBI Bride: Prequel to The Undercover Bridesmaid (An Undercover Bridesmaid Romance) Read online

  “Weapons? There’s more than one?” Lindsey asked behind Chloe.

  Chloe twisted around in her seat. “There are two pistols here, Agent Jones.”

  “Agent Romano is correct,” Liam said, his eyes slowly moving off hers to survey the room. “You have two. After you’ve figured out which pieces belong to which gun, we’ll time you to see who’s the fastest at assembling each weapon. After that, we head to the range for a few hours. You’ll get a chance to use the three types of guns we’ll be issuing you. Pistols, rifles, et cetera.”

  “What kind of sidearm will we get issued at the end of training?” someone across the room asked.

  “A couple years ago, we gave the contract to Glock,” Liam told him. “You’ll receive a 9 millimeter Glock pistol. Great, reliable weapon.”

  Chloe sat up straighter. She loved firearm challenges. She and Jenna had been shooting since they were kids and got their first .22 rifles at ten years old. That old gun was still in its case in her closet back home.

  Energy surged through her. She’d love to win the contest and show-off for Liam—her much too handsome superior, and the man she could never get to know better—in spite of the feelings he evoked in her each time they were in the same room.

  Glancing at the other NATs, Chloe knew she didn’t have quite the experience a few others had come with. There were several men who had previously been in law enforcement as police officers, sheriff deputies, or members of the military.

  It was good that the FBI also needed experts in computers and accounting and languages—the only way she and Jenna had been considered. One of the women had lived overseas while her father had been a contractor in the Middle East, and she knew Arabic and Russian, as well as a smattering of Turkish and German.

  When Chloe’s eyes rested on Liam as he moved around the tables to double check the display of firearm pieces, his eyes caught hers. The vibes between them were strong, especially when their eyes latched on to each other.

  When he gave her a small smile, a rush of attraction shot straight through her chest. Liam’s presence was commanding. The way the man moved practically made her faint.

  But Agent Esposito also had a sense of humor. He was kind and fair, despite the soberness that crossed his face at times—almost as if he forced himself to look stern since he was teaching unruly rookies at Quantico. Like a school teacher during the first week of a new year who had to be extra strict so the kids didn’t get out of control and run riot in the classroom.

  Chloe had already organized the pieces of her .22 and 9 mm when Liam gave the signal to start.

  The sound of barrels, grips, slides, and gun magazines clicking together in a frenzy of metal on metal echoed through the room. Chloe worked fast, focused and competitive.

  “Done!”

  “Done!”

  The sound of the firearms clapping against the tables as the NATs declared their time made Chloe’s ears ring. “Done!” she called out.

  Her chin lifted. Liam was staring at her with approval. “Good job, Agent Romano. Third done. Were you a police officer in your previous life?”

  “Nope, sir. Just a girl who’s been shooting with her dad since she was eight years old.”

  “You mean Governor Romano likes to hunt?”

  Chloe’s jaw dropped. How did Liam know her father was the current governor?

  Well, duh, the man had flown in to D.C. from Charleston on the same flight she did a few weeks ago. But did most people flying for pleasure—or business—know the name of the governor of every state they visited? Not usually.

  Although, Liam was an FBI agent who would need to know things like that. He had never conveyed to her or Jenna why he’d been in South Carolina. Perhaps it was FBI business and he purposely hadn’t told her.

  But he wasn’t assigned to the field office in South Carolina. He was here teaching at Quantico. It didn’t make sense.

  “Um,” Chloe finally stammered. “Yeah. We’ve always gone fishing and hunting together. Or with Jenna’s dad, who’s a retired police officer.”

  Suddenly aware that the class had finished their assembly of firearms, and were listening to their conversation; Chloe shut her mouth.

  Liam looked at his watch and jerked his eyes from Chloe’s face, pretending they hadn’t been just having a personal conversation. “You NATs are slow,” he said now. “Try it again. Fieldstrip your weapons, and we’ll try again.”

  There were mutterings around the room as pieces jammed or stuck. A couple of people caught their finger in the pins and cursed. Another hadn’t paid enough attention to the order they had put the gun together in the first place and was slowed down by starting all over again.

  Chloe quickly removed her magazine, checked for bullets, aimed the gun at the floor to press the trigger and ensure its empty chamber. Then she proceeded to remove the slide, the barrel, and the spring of the first weapon. Within moments, she had finished off the second pistol, too.

  Laying the last spring down on the table, she lifted her hands in a sign that she was finished just as arms shot up all over the room.

  “Good,” Liam said, rising from the edge of the desk where he’d been perched watching them. When he stepped forward, his eyes glanced off Chloe’s face for a second. “Now assemble them again.”

  The sound of metal on metal was a lovely sound to Chloe’s ears. The sound of strength and confidence knowing she could defend herself and others.

  Within three minutes everyone was finished.

  “Tomorrow you’ll learn how to properly clean your gun,” Liam said. “Taught by Agent Fedorko here. Take your loaded pistols with you, and we’ll head out to the gun range now.”

  Shuffling chairs echoed across the room as everyone rose. Jenna caught Chloe’s arm. “Our first time on the range, girlfriend. You ready to impress Special Agent Esposito?”

  “I always aim to impress my superiors and teachers,” Chloe answered glibly.

  “I think you already did. Dang, woman, you were fast today. You beat me by a few seconds. My weapons were a little stiff; they need oiling.”

  Once they trudged across the compound and to the rear of the buildings, the NATs arrived at the range and collected eye and ear protection.

  “We’ll be out here for two hours,” Agent Fedorko told the group once they had assembled at the range. “Rotate through each station twice, firing at least three magazines for each weapon. You’ll practice with pistols, rifles, and shotguns at a variety of distances and scored on accuracy.”

  Liam held up a hand before dismissing them to the various stations. “Wear your protective glasses and ear protection at all times. Ask for help from your instructors if you need it, not your fellow NAT. Some of you are more experienced than others. Play fair, play nice, and no belittling the accountants and computer scientists among us; they may surprise you.”

  Jenna’s lips quirked as she threw a grin at Chloe. “There are only a few people he’s referring to with that comment,” she said.

  “You’re merely trying to distract me,” Chloe said. “Just like you always do on the range at home. I’ll challenge you. Ice cream sundaes when we get our first day off campus.”

  “You’re on. Glocks first, or long-distance rifles?”

  “Glocks. I’ll let you warm up.”

  “You’re so sweet,” said Jenna.

  They always gave each other a hard time on the gun range. It was part of the fun and the challenge.

  Once everyone was in their chosen places on the range, Agent Esposito called out final instructions.

  “We’ll abide by normal gun range protocols here. When the range is cold, all weapons are down, magazines out of the holster, and step two feet away from your gun. When the range is declared hot, I’ll give the signal to begin firing.”

  He lifted an arm, his eyes sweeping the rows of NATs. “Step forward to your weapons. Range is hot. I repeat,” he shouted louder. “The range is hot!”

  The firing of various pistols, rifles, and
shotguns was constant, smattering intermittently through the air for the next twenty minutes.

  Despite wearing ear protection, the sound could still be heard like the popping of firecrackers—unless the bigger guns were used, then the sound was like a series of small booms.

  After several rounds, Chloe was soon out of bullets.

  A moment later, Agent Fedorko’s yell could be heard. “Range is cold! Put down your weapons, release your magazines, and step away to retrieve your targets.”

  The NATs strode forward to take down their paper targets to prove their scores. Chloe rolled up her target sheets and headed to the last station of the day—sharpshooting. Long range firing was something she hadn’t ever done actually.

  Shooting long distances like a trained sniper needed a lot of wide open and controlled space to practice. Including expensive guns that had the capability to project long distances as well as high quality scopes to see through.

  Chloe had always admired SWAT and military snipers who were so good at it. The good ones made it look easy, but it took hundreds of hours of practice.

  Lying on the mats that had been placed on a mix of patchy grass and dirt, Chloe checked out the rifle, the scope, the chamber, and finally the bullets they’d be using.

  “First five bullets are just practice,” she said to Jenna. “They don’t count.”

  “Wimp,” Jenna called back.

  After placing the long, single bullet into the barrel, Chloe took her time looking through the scope and getting into the best, most comfortable position, the rifle firmly pressed into her shoulder.

  Finally, she squeezed the trigger slowly and carefully. The bullet made a soft whistling sound. She was pretty sure it hit the target two hundred yards away, but she wouldn’t be certain until she looked at it up close.

  Long range shots were always hard to master. You had to analyze your firing position, the rounds, the gun itself, the method of holding the rifle and the method of squeezing the trigger from every angle to get better accuracy after finishing a few rounds.

  After two more shots, Chloe glanced at Jenna about ten feet away. “Ready to get slaughtered?”

  “Nope, you’re gonna owe me ice cream.”

  “Ha! Always trying to psych me out,” Chloe muttered with a laugh.

  Two seconds later, Agent Esposito was behind her, his broad masculine shadow filling the late morning sunshine. “Ignore me,” he instructed Chloe.

  “Yeah, right,” she whispered. How could she ignore him when his presence rattled her and made her pulse pound like she’d just run ten miles?

  Sliding a bullet into the chamber, she tried to block the sight of him out of her peripheral vision.

  Calculating her position and the target through the scope, Chloe finally pulled the trigger. The same soft whizzing sound filled the air, then disappeared just as fast. A tiny puff of smoke far in the distance rose from the ground in front of the target. “Dang, I missed,” she hissed.

  Jenna gave a happy cry next to her. “Pretty sure that was my best one,” she crowed.

  “It’ll be your last, Agent Fielding,” Chloe said popping another bullet into the chamber. “Count on it.”

  Except that it ended up being her last one. Chloe’s rifle jammed for some unknown reason. Sliding the chamber, she tried again, and then again. The trigger wasn’t working properly.

  Finally, she unloaded the rifle to take a closer look, aware that Liam was only two feet away from her watching. A dribble of perspiration beaded on her forehead. The man sure made her heat up, in more ways than one.

  “Mind if I take a look, Chloe?” Liam finally asked.

  She glanced up, shielding her eyes from the sudden bright sunshine. He’d called her by her first name again.

  “I’m not exactly pining to be a sharpshooter,” she told him. “But the gun isn’t responding like it was a few minutes ago.”

  “Think you can disassemble it?”

  She bit at her lips. “Never done a fieldstrip on a long-distance rifle.”

  “I’ll help you,” Liam offered, kneeling down beside her. “This particular gun has always been a little sticky for students. Might have to retire it.”

  “That’s not very comforting.”

  “Hey,” his hand came around the barrel, his fingers suddenly covering hers. “We wouldn’t hand out guns that aren’t safe. It might just need to be cleaned. I think this is the last round of the day, so it’s been shot a lot.”

  Chloe nodded, unsure of what to do. His fingers were warm and strong and oh, so heavenly against her own. Words were stuck in her throat, her body frozen in place.

  She felt his eyes studying her and finally glanced up. When their eyes met, it was like an internal explosion rocked her body. She saw warmth and depth and intelligence in his rich brown eyes. Chloe was sure she could stare at him all day if it was allowed.

  Was there interest in his eyes for her, too? She thought so, but he continued to play their interactions warm but always professional, so it was hard to know. Maybe he was just a bit of a flirt.

  The other women certainly talked about him every night in the dorms. It was becoming annoying actually. What if Liam was actually interested in somebody else? What if he had a girlfriend outside of Quantico? In D.C.? Or maybe even Charleston?

  Breathing harder than normal, Chloe tried not to stutter as she explained the gun’s performance during the last few rounds.

  Liam opened the chamber, popped out the bullet, and then eyed the empty barrel. “Yeah, I think there’s too much gun powder residue,” he said smoothly. “Try this other rifle for another few rounds, and then it’ll be time for lunch break. Go ahead and get back into position. I’ll hand you the bullets and watch.”

  Chloe stretched out again on her stomach and placed the rifle into her shoulder then inserted the bullet Liam handed over into the chamber and locked it into place.

  He was barely five inches away—lying next to her—while he studied the target attached to a bale of hay in the far distance.

  She let out her breath slowly, staring into the scope one last time.

  “Squeeze slowly,” Liam whispered, just before Chloe pulled.

  The shot was a good one with this cleaner rifle. No telltale puff of smoke where the bullet might have hit the dirt instead of the target. Chloe gazed back into the scope. “I think I got it,” she said.

  “Think you did better than that,” Liam said, turning his head to look her square in the face.

  They were still lying on the mats on the patchy lawn, and a warm feeling swept through Chloe at the closeness of him. She could smell his musky, intoxicating aftershave and tried to remain coherent. “Can I go see?”

  He gave a low chuckle; his eyes grazing her face. “You’re like a kid in a candy store out here. Never expected that,” he added. “All of a sudden I can see you out in the wilds hunting and fishing.”

  “I’ve done some time out in the wilds,” she drawled as if she was a small-town hick. “But maybe I’m just a girly-girl in real life, and I’ve infiltrated Quantico for my own secret agenda.”

  An amused smile tugged at his mouth. Darn him, he was devastatingly charming and just plain adorable.

  “If that’s true, I’ll find out your secret agenda, Chloe Romano.”

  She lifted an eyebrow, giving him a hard time in return. “Really? You’re that good of an agent?”

  He nodded and pursed his lips, teasing her outrageously. “The best. So watch out, Agent Romano.”

  Jenna walked over to Chloe after handing her rifle over. “I’m ready to eat, so let’s get a move on, people,” she said.

  Liam gave Chloe a quick wink without letting Jenna see it and then rose to his feet. He cupped his hands around his mouth and called out to the other shooters. “Hold your fire. As of now, the range is cold.”

  Most of the other stations were already done and wrapping up. NATs gathered their targets and talked amongst themselves comparing weapons and scores.

  “L
et’s take a walk across the field, shall we?” Liam suggested, leading the way across the meadow to the bales of hay where targets had been affixed.

  When they reached her own target, Chloe studied the holes her bullets had made in the paper, which was a black silhouette of a man against a white background where circles of rings created smaller targets.

  “Hm,” she said. “I shot at least twenty rounds, but there are only about eight holes where I actually hit the target. Guess I need practice.”

  “Everybody needs practice,” Liam said. “But eight hits to the actual target are incredibly good considering you’ve never done long distance shooting before. Shows you came with some good skills. You have experience with guns.”

  Warmth spread through Chloe at his praise. “I enjoyed it more than I thought I would. I’m one of those gun freaks who likes to shoot at least one or two magazines as fast as possible. Especially with my 9 mm. After I’ve aimed well, I shoot repeatedly and go through my clip in about ten-seconds.”

  “Like a Tom Cruise character?”

  “Nope. Like Natasha Romanoff.”

  A frown wrinkled Liam’s brow. “Who?”

  “Avengers. The Black Widow played by Scarlett Johansson,” Chloe told him.

  “Right,” Liam said feigning nonchalance. “I knew that. But I thought you were an old movie buff.”

  “A girl has to keep up with pop culture.”

  He studied her for a moment. “I think you could give Natasha Romanoff a run for her money.”

  “Gosh, thanks,” Chloe said, tilting her chin to grin at him. “But I haven’t perfected Natasha’s amazing skill of wrapping her legs around a bad guy’s neck to choke him to death. I was hoping to learn that at Quantico.”

  Liam gazed at her, his own smile widening. “That comes during Week 21.”

  “It’s going to be so hard to wait.”

  “Patience, Grasshopper.”

  Chloe laughed. “Wow, that’s an oldie but goodie TV show. I’m impressed.”

  “I have much older brothers, and they like to watch old reruns on YouTube. We were all into Karate growing up.”

  “So, I’m curious. Is that what you think of me Special Agent Esposito? Just a student Grasshopper, and you’re the Old Wise One?”