[center][h3]Oliver Cinter[/h3][/center] Oli had been up early anyway, having gone to bed very early actually so he could be up super early to finish his lesson plans for the week. Phys-Ed and Math weren't subjects you could just fly by the seat of your pants. One is a phyically and mentally draining subject that left people in tears and crying for mercy, and the other one was gym time. He'd been writing and checking his source materials when his cell phone had beeped. The grey haired brit looks at the screen seeing a message from the director. Reading the summons he'd grabbed his long coat slipped on his gloves and jumped into his boots. He'd raced through the halls, don't want to keep the director waiting. After abit he'd entered, just a few moments behind Johnny it seems. He'd clapped on the shoulder as he slipped by him giving him a big grin, "John! Hey there." He stopped in place then bowed to Director Bathala, "Sir! Good..." He looked at his phone quickly, "Morning. Got your message." After the whole greeting thing he'd sat down in one of the arm chairs. The grey haired Brit pursed his lips, "Mr. Legazpi? Yes I know of him." He listened on then quirked an eyebrow, "It's been awhile since someone called me honest of all things Boss." He chuckles, "I was a punk and a bully, a little bit of a liar and a cheat as well. Sure I'm more temperate now, but honest is a new one on me." He laughs, then nods, "I'll keep an eye on him when I can." He leans forward to look at the contents of the dossier, "Mister's Quinn, Helgrem and Durand? Okay. I'll see if I can track down Durand and Helgrem. If you're up to tracking down Mr. Quinn? how's that sound John?" He smiles and gets up bowing again to the Director and slapping Johnny on the shoulder again, "By your leave Director I'll go get started." [center][h3]Jordan Quinn[/h3][/center] Jordan stood at the door to the shooting range. The schedule had his name on it, but it's clear that Vazquez had just countermanded it all and booked the place over him, almost all day. He booted the door leaving a boot print on the paint, "You've got to be kidding me!?" He sighed and started to pace just outside the range, "What do I gotta do...well hell..." He looked around, the windows were too high to climb too, and most of them were barred over. He couldn't jimmy the lock on the door either or he'd get in deep crap from one of the proctors. The long haired Canadian paced awhile more then hummed, "Okay fine...if I gotta do this like we would do on the Rez then so be it." He made sure no one is watching him then darted for the nearest recycle bin, gathering as many bottles as he can, sticking them in every pocket he can manage, carrying a bundle of them under his left arm, and more in his right. Taking some thirty or so with him, "Suck it Virg. I'm not going to let you spoil my training time. I have a free half hour to do with as I please! And I'm going to shoot! Shoot shoot shoot! And even if you booked the range you can't stop me from honing my aim!" Looking a little goofy trying to sneak into the back reaches of the Academy grounds with thirty bottles in his arms and pockets but soon he's in a disused sports court in the back of the grounds. He'd have to set this up to make it worth the training, all kinds of angles and distances. He got to setting those bottles up. He only had so much time and he'd do his best to make use of it.