Chapter 6: Training and Appointment

At last the exams were over. College was finished and I was at home, relaxing. Eight days later, I received a packet in the mail. The outside said it was from the New England Bureau of Investigation. Inside was a letter offering me employment with the Bureau, a form to fill if accepting their offer and a descriptive booklet about the Bureau and what happened to new recruits.

I filled in the form and returned it. Two weeks later, I found myself in the foyer of the NEBI headquarters building, in Washington. I was escorted to a conference room where there were several people chatting. Shortly afterwards an older man entered and directed us to find seats. Just like a new class at college. We were welcomed to the Bureau and told that there would be a short tour of the Headquarters building. After lunch, we would be shipped off to their Training Academy at Quantico, set in the middle of the Royal Marines' base.

Whilst about twenty-five per cent of new entrants had Thaumaturgical training, another fifty per cent were lawyers and the remainder were ex-policemen. We would be trained in each of the other groups' range of expertise. After lunch we were taken to the railroad station in one of the Bureau's horse drawn omnibuses. We were similarly transported from the Quantico railroad station to the Academy. We were assigned quarters and given a short welcome from the Head of the Academy. There followed the issue of Investigators' badges, trainee's cards, our hand guns and the clothing we would require during the course.

My roommate had not been in our room when I left my bags on my preferred bed. I finally met Charles French after dinner when I went to the room to unpack my bags. I found out that he was a lawyer, so we should be able to help each other out.

The next morning, the PT Instructor took us for a jog around the whole academy. On the way he pointed out to us the various training areas. After our run, we showered and moved on to the pistol range. Here, the range master, as usual, took us first through the range regulations. We were then divided into five groups Each group was placed in a different lane.

The front person in each lane shot and the Range Master was spotting. I had been co-opted to write down the scores, as he called them out. The scores ranged from nothing at all up to thirty nine out of a possible fifty.

Finally it was my turn. I took a couple of quick deep breaths as I moved to the firing position. The range Master didn't announce my score. He simply reeled in my target with the five holes grouped close to the center of the bull's eye.

My roommate turned to me and said, "I say old boy, you didn't use magic; did you?"

The eyes of the Range Master twinkled as he muttered to himself, "There's always one." Looking up, he said, "No, French, he did not. And do you know why? I'll tell you. Firstly, there's a geas laid against it, in here. Secondly, he didn't need to. Young MacLeod was being considered for the Angevin Empire Games Pistol Team, last spring."

"Oh! Sorry I spoke. I hope you don't think that I implied anything underhanded. It's just that it was like a magically perfect performance. I wonder if you could teach me to shoot like that?"