The Perfect Shot (Book 3) ✓

02 - Proving

Cleo

It was a long-waited time. I liked the place where I lived, I liked my teammates and I liked my job very much. But it was a good idea to change the pace for a few days. I was attending a police course for snipers from the SWAT teams in our region, and it was good to meet with other people doing the job I did. Looking around the room we were in, I was one of the youngest, if not the youngest one in here, which wasn't new to me. I was always seen as the kid, even though 24 wasn't so young... I mean, I was young, but I knew what I was doing. From the looks of the men around me, they didn't think so. Well, too damn bad, because I was sure I was in the top 5 of everyone attending this course and in a couple of hours when we'll have the chance to show what we've got, I was sure I was going to show them how stereotypical everyone thought of me. In my work of field, age was nothing. Your physical form, your eyesight, your calmness, your quick thinking, that was important. Those numbers counting the years you've been alive were nothing. I mean, yeah, the older you are, the more experience you have, the more knowledge you collect... But a shot is a shot. If you know your weapon, your distances, winds, and a couple of other things, you are good to go. You won't be the best, but you'll do the work.

In most of the cases, this was enough. In most of the cases, the men behind the scope were happy with this. Being enough, doing the job with as little effort as possible. But not me. I wanted to be better and better. I was constantly working on my aim, my positions, and my calculations. I craved to be better than the others. I craved to be the best in my job. I don't know if this was some trauma from my childhood or not, but it was pulling me all the time, and I was happy with it. The satisfaction of seeing the shocked faces of everyone around me when I was shooting...it was never getting old.

"So, I think it's time to get all the information I shared with you and get on the field to try it." There was a shared affirmation around me when the lecturer stopped with the theory part of our course. "You are going to try some new tech, see if you like it, if you could get any better with it and of course...we'll see who could make the best shot from all of you. Whoever it is, he's getting a free beer from me at the end of it." There were some laughs, some clapping for the news of the award while the men in the room were trying to leave it. No one was going to make their shot just for this free beer, but it was a sweet bonus.

While I was leaving, I heard a few men talking about me and miserably failing at doing it quietly.

"What do you think of the kid?"

"What to think? He's still wet behind the ears. He has shot a few times at cans at a distance and thinks he's a sniper. We'll show him how it's done, and hopefully, he'll learn. I don't know how he got the job, but I guess his team doesn't have a lot of need for a sharp shooter..." The shared laughs between the men were making me angry, but I didn't try to argue with them. Now, I was just a lot more eager to show them what the 'kid' could do and how much better than them I could do it.

We went to the shooting ranch, everyone was with his personal rifle, ready to shoot at the targets and show the others their skills before trying the new tech. One by one, the men got in position, shot at the carbord human figures spread across the big field where we were in. The different distances to the targets, the open place, the winds, the people watching every one of your moves...it was a lot harder to be precise and the result were showing it. The further the targets the less people were good at getting them perfectly...luckily no one missed a target, which would be really bad if it happened, but a lot of the shots were spread everywhere on the human body. The wind was getting stronger, and with that, it was getting harder and harder to be spot on. I was waiting to see everyone before I took my place on the field. I heard a lot of the men saying I was scared, and that's why I didn't want to shoot, but they couldn't be further from the truth. I just wanted to know what the competition could do.

"Ready Jones?" I laid on the dusty floor, made a few adjustments on my scope, and put my cheek on my weapon.

"Yes, sir." Everyone stopped talking, ready to see how the 'kid' was going to fail, I was sure. Well, too bad I was going to disappoint them. I aimed at the first target closest to me and pulled the trigger. The bullet went perfecting through it. I cleared the shell casing and loaded a new round in my rifle. Looked at the next target, took a breath, exhaled, and shot. Another perfect shot. And the next, and the next. The more I shot, the more I could feel the change in the air around me. I made a little adjustment for the farthest targets since they were going to fly through a lot more space and have a lot more air resistance, gravity, and wind affecting them. I took a breath once again, exhaled and shot. The echo of the bullet leaving the rifle was followed by the perfect hit once again. At the end of my time, I had shot all of my targets at the exact same spot in the perfect center. It looked like they were copies of each other.

"Well, I guess I know who I'll have to give a beer to, boys. We have an obvious winner, and it's Cleo Jones." There were a few measly claps that followed the announcements, but that didn't stop the big smile to form on my face while looking each one of the other snipers.

"Good job, colleagues. Maybe next time you'll beat me." I didn't wait for their answers. I took my rifle and put it in its case while I waited for the next part of our course. Trying the new toys.

It was a few hours later after we ended all the shooting when we entered the bar with a few of the men from the course. Like he promised, the instructor bought me the first beer, and we sat at a table and talked shit for a while. I wasn't the favorite person of the group, so I mostly stood quiet while the others were talking. I was laughing in my mind about the situation I was in, sure that my teammates won't believe me when I told them I was staying quiet throughout the night. They knew another version of me, one that was a lot louder, funnier...freer. Here, I knew I couldn't be this person because I was going to be seen as the kid I was so desperately trying to run away from. At home, no one cared. I was the youngest of them all. They knew I was good at my job and was watching their backs. It was all they cared for. But here – it was another story.

I was looking around the room when I saw a lonely girl sitting on the bar, deep in her thoughts, while peeing the label of the beer bottle in front of her. I wasn't sure what it was, but something pulled me to her. I excused myself from the group I was with and went to the bar. She didn't even react when I took the seat next to her. She was so deep in her mind that it was a little bit concerning. The bartender saw me and came.

"What do you want?"

"A beer." Hearing my voice close to her finally made the girl snap from the trance she was in. She looked in my direction. Her stare made me look longer at her.

"You have eyes like me."

"Umm, what?" I was still looking at the girl when she repeated her statement.

"You have eyes like me."

"You think so?"

"Yeah."

"I haven't noticed my eyes. Do I have golden flecks in them?"

"How do you not know your eyes?"

"Well, I know they are dark...didn't care for the specifics." She moved a little bit closer to me, her eyes exploring mine.

"Yeah, you do have some gold in there, but you have something else, too, but I can't see what it is in that dim light here."

"You wanna go somewhere else so you could see them better?"

***Cleo is not messing around, not at the shooting range, nor at the bar...