Cut to Calleigh and Horatio at her ex's rifle range -- which could be awkward, on account of the potential for hurt feelings and the easy access to firearms -- lying in the grass and shooting rifles. Horatio comments, "It's been a while since I fired one of these." I can see how -- between haunting all those escaped wrongdoers and patrolling parks so he can protect his lambs, there's not a whole lot of time to visit the rifle range. Calleigh's ex -- let's call him Sergeant Squarejaw -- comments that Horatio may know how to handle your average popgun, but sniping's a different activity. Sgt. Squarejaw goes all A River Runs Through It on us: "When it comes to shooting, you can't trust just your eyes...most people think a bullet travels in a straight line. The actual path of a bullet is arced like a rainbow. That's the first thing your sniper has to take into account. The next thing is the wind. See that tall grass fifty feet ahead? It means the wind is moving three to five miles an hour. Seventy-five feet, wind's completely different. Look at those tall reeds. Tells you the wind is going five to eight miles an hour." Horatio concludes, "So no matter where your target is, you adjust for the wind." Sgt. Squarejaw nods, "Kentucky windage." Calleigh adds, "In the twenty-hundredth of a second it takes a sniper to pull the trigger, he takes one controlled breath and decides if conditions are right to take a life." Horatio responds, "You put a human being at the end of the barrel of your weapon, and you become God." And since Horatio's already bucking for the position, he's taking the sniper personally. Sgt. Squarejaw says happily, "You stay in control. The shot has to be perfect to take it." As if to illustrate the point about control, Horatio fires off another round.
Meanwhile, Megan and Sevilla are questioning someone whom they've pulled from the ATM surveillance camera records. There's a joke here to be made about six degrees of NYPD Blue, but I just can't summon the energy to care. Sevilla does most of the talking with the witness, since the powers that be want to keep this interview moving at a brisk, even tempo. Megan finally butts in to ask Mr. "I Saw Nothing" Santoya if he owns a gun. He denies it, so Megan stares at him a while. After getting unnerved by that, he finally asks, "What's this all about?" It's about wrapping up a B-plot in a timely manner. You're merely a pawn, Mr. Santoya. Megan asks, "May we come in?" Mr. Santoya is looking more nervous by the minute; he asks shortly, "Why?" Sevilla says, "We just want to talk to you." Mr. Santoya points out that nothing's stopping them from chatting as they are. The two women tell him that there was another shooting downtown, a seventy-three-year-old grandmother was killed -- which leads me to wonder, don't childless-by-choice people deserve the same type of law enforcement zeal when they're sent to their makers? Aren't their deaths as much a tragedy for their loved ones as the death of a mother or grandmother? Or are childless women somehow less valuable than those who have reproduced? I'm just wondering, what with this show and its emphasis on how horrible it is for parents or children to be killed -- anyway, a seventy-three-year-old grandmother was killed and it happened right near the ATM, and now that Mr. Santoya's acting all edgy, is he sure there isn't anything he wants to pass on? No, there is not. As Mr. Santoya closes the door, Sevilla asks, "You believe that?" Megan replies, "What, that I'm being paired with the woman that the forum regulars are backing as my replacement?" Actually, she says, "The door in our faces, or the story?" Sevilla says, "Either." Megan says, "Neither. He's hiding something." You think?