With the revelation that someone might be hunting them all, Rarity was encouraged to increase her skill with weapons. To that end, the property around the cabin was converted into a complex simulated battlefield. Rarity was taught how to move while shooting and how to employ grenades.
“Careful, you aren’t allowed any fuckups with these,” said Morgan.
After blowing up a few practice targets, Rarity believed him. She also wondered what the neighbors would think about the explosions. Hopefully they were far enough away that the noise didn’t bother them too much.
Rarity quickly found something she was good at, however. Precision shooting seemed less fast-paced and more suited to her skill set. There was a bit more satisfaction in hitting a longer-range target.
The sniper rifle she was given was not similar to the businesslike assault weapons Rarity had been using. It was longer, sleeker, and had been carefully crafted by an artisan; or so she had been told. Perhaps Rob was being overdramatic. All Rarity knew was that it seemed to fit well in her hands. She didn’t even mind the associated gear to turn the rifle from a single weapon into a whole system.
There was a swivel on the bottom of the foregrip with a leather strap connected to it. It looped around Rarity’s upper arm. She put on a padded glove and placed it against the swivel. The strap and her arm formed a triangle for stability.
Because of the tightness of the strap, Rarity had to use her opposite hand to force the butt of the rifle into her shoulder. After shaking out her other arm to get things settled, Rarity leaned forward into the weapon, finding that her body naturally curved to line up with the stock of the rifle as she settled forward onto the elbow pads she had strapped on.
Jenny stood by, observing. “You’re a little tense in the shoulders. If you’ve gotten things adjusted right, you should be able to relax like a wet noodle and everything should stay in position.”
Acting like a wet noodle was not Rarity’s idea of being ladylike, but she let her body droop. The leather strap kept her arm tight and the rifle did not move.
“There, now that all your muscles are relaxed you won’t have any involuntary twitches,” said Jenny. “Take a deep breath and let it out. There should be a few seconds before you need to take another breath. When not even your lungs are in motion, that’s when you’re as still as you can get. The only thing that should be moving is your trigger finger.”
Rarity turned her eyes to the magnifying scope mounted atop the rifle. Despite the distance to the target, the crosshairs stayed almost perfectly in the center. This was the kind of precision she could get used to.
“Of course, all this is just target rifle stuff,” said Jenny. “Once we teach you the basics of staying still then we’ll take away the strap and give you a bipod, something you can actually move with.”
Rarity was somewhat displeased to learn that there was an easier way. Nonetheless, she proved to be very good at long-range shooting. She wondered if perhaps a little magic could be used to affect the bullet in flight. That could be saved for another day’s practice, however.
The rest of the rifle was fairly simple to operate. The bolt only needed a partial rotation and a linear slide to operate. The scope was marked with range calculators and could reasonably estimate various distances. She tried not to think about how the target used for figuring the range was the same size and shape as a person.
The practice distances increased, and Rarity found that a measurement of five hundred yards was not a major obstacle with help from the large scope.
On the complete opposite end of the spectrum from sniper rifles was hand-to-hand combat. That was even less ladylike than learning how to shoot.
“Are you sure this is fair?” asked Rarity, panting hard. She had yet to land a blow on Veronica, mostly because the tall woman could literally hold her at arm’s length without getting hit herself.
“Of course not, which is why fighting dirty is allowable as long as you win,” put in Morgan. He dodged a kick Rarity aimed at his groin as she took his advice.
“It just seems so uncivilized,” complained Rarity. “If you have ranged weapons, why not use them?”
“Ponies have mammalian birth, right?” said Morgan. “You came into this world kicking and screaming, covered in someone else’s blood. What’s wrong going out the same way?”
“We’ll get to the blood when we teach her about knives,” Veronica told him.
Between grenades, rifle equipment, blades and everything else, Rarity found that her design for a combat uniform was continuously evolving to carry all of it.
Despite some of the more unsavory parts, overall the day was productive and Rarity felt that she had learned a lot. Unfortunately, that evening the mood shifted rapidly with the breaking of bad news. The mysterious British man had been identified. However Mr. Wright, as he was called, was not the big problem.
“That would be his boss,” explained Bear. “She goes by Purity, and the only thing we really know about her is that she hates magic.”
“And is probably very old,” added Veronica.
“How old is that?” asked Rarity.
“We managed to uncover traces of the bitch that go back a couple thousand years,” put in Morgan. “Her minions change periodically as they live out their natural lives, but she stays the same.”
That didn’t make much sense to Rarity. “How can that happen if she hates magic?”
“That’s the problem, we don’t know,” said Rob. “Being so experienced, she knows how to cover her trail. Other than her name and the identities of a couple of her employees, we’ve got nothing.”
“But how could she have located us?” asked Rarity. She bit her lip. “Is it me? Are they tracking my magic?”
“Have you used any since we got here?” asked Veronica.
Rarity thought. “A few days ago, I applied waterproofing spells to some of my clothing. Nothing since then.”
“Well, fuck,” muttered Morgan. “At least that wasn’t enough for them to pin down an exact location. From now on, no more magic.”
Rarity nodded. With hands and fingers she had been getting along all right mostly without it, but she hoped that she didn’t slip up. She’d used magic her whole life as a pony and it had become almost instinctive.
“Okay, so we haven’t been found out completely,” said Rob. “We know Mr. Wright is in the area, though. We could capture him and do a little interrogation.”
Rarity wasn’t sure she liked what was implied by his tone.
Bear also must have caught the implication. “I’m not sure he would tell us anything. Purity has a reputation, and I doubt she would have someone working for her that wasn’t interrogation-resistant, even for a psychic.”
“Even if he doesn’t give up any information, we can still take him out of the picture,” said Jenny. The others seemed to agree.
And so Rarity found herself helping to plan a kidnapping.