It was a quiet morning when Tom decided it would be a good idea to visit a shooting range. He had always believed in keeping his skills sharp, especially those that required precision and control, and had become accustomed to incorporating this into his routine. For him, the range was a practice space, but also a place to clear his mind and focus.
Upon arriving, he was greeted by the owner of the range, a local veteran, who recognized him from previous visits and always made a point of greeting him with a firm handshake.
"Good morning, Tom!" the owner said with a smile. "Ready for practice today?"
Tom nodded.
"Always. Thanks for getting everything ready."
The range was quiet that morning, with few customers. Tom chose his practice guns and headed to the shooting bay. After a few accurate shots, he heard a familiar voice beside him.
"I didn't know there was still an SAS operator training here," said a rugged-looking man with sharp eyes.
Tom turned to see who it was and quickly recognized the Delta Force insignia tattooed on the man's forearm. He had a firm stance and the kind of confidence that only someone with combat experience carries.
"And I didn't expect to see a Delta on a civilian range," Tom replied, extending his hand to shake.
The man shook his hand firmly, with a hint of a smile.
"Chuck, ex-Delta Force."
"Tom," he replied, nodding. "Nice to meet you, Chuck."
The two began to talk about their time in the service, and soon discovered some similar missions in nearby areas, despite having served on different teams and countries.
There was an instant camaraderie, as happens between operators who understand the sacrifice and dedication of the profession. Chuck gave Tom a curious look.
"What do you think of a CQB simulation? Conventional shooting ranges are great, but there's nothing like a simulation to get your reflexes going."
Tom smiled, remembering the old days.
"I think that's an excellent idea. It's been a while since I've been to one," he replied.
The owner of the range, who had been watching the conversation from afar, quickly came over when he realized what they were planning.
"You two, in a CQB simulation? I need to see that," he said with restrained enthusiasm. "Let's set up the range for a mock invasion."
Tom and Chuck agreed, and the owner immediately began setting up the space. He even set up a few security cameras to capture the action.
The training area was set up with obstacles, fake doors, and a few rooms that would require precision and strategy. They both put on proper protective gear and chose mock weapons markers that fired plastic ammunition. For Tom and Chuck, using mock ammunition was a way to bring more realism without compromising safety.
The two exchanged a final knowing look and began to plan.
"I'll take the lead in the first room, you cover the entrance," Chuck suggested.
Tom nodded.
"Done. When we advance to the second room, we'll switch roles."
The two positioned themselves at the entrance to the area, ready to begin. The booth owner watched from a distance, his eyes fixed on the screen that showed the images from the cameras.
"All set," he announced over the loudspeaker. "Good luck."
Tom and Chuck moved as a synchronized unit. They communicated with quick, almost silent gestures. As they entered the first room, Chuck moved ahead, covering the right corner, while Tom checked the left side, following close behind. Each movement was calculated, the result of years of training and well-honed reflexes.
