Hidden Talents

Part 4

Be so good they can't ignore you
— Steve Martin
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I press a hand to my temple, completely overwhelmed. I have so many questions and not enough answers. Who is Colby? Why was his file classified?

The only explanation I can come up with is he is working with Kyle. I shudder at the thought.

That can be it. I haven't see Kyle in 4 years. Then again I did run away from him and joined the CIA.

Even if Colby was working for Kyle that wouldn't explain why he was in school and not off somewhere planning for doomsday.

Ugggh! My head is swimming with all the possibilities. I need to let out some steam.

I grab my hand gun and a set of throwing knives from their hiding spot in my closet. I quickly jog down the stairs from my apartment. I jump onto my bike.

The wind wipes through my hair as speed to my favorite place.

Out of all the combat and weaponry skills I have learned shooting and throwing knives have always been my favorite.

I pull up to a small brick building. This has been my favorite spot since I found it 2 months ago.

I walk into the building and go straight in the back, nodding at the receptionist behind the desk.

I was already known here, I was a legend. I made a point to come here every week.

Let me explain something. This is not a normal shooting range where everyone just comes to shoot and minds there own business. This is a competition shooting/ throwing club. Every week they hold tournaments. Sadly there is no competition today.

I walk up to my usual spot. I take out my hand gun. My heart starts pounding with adrenaline from my excitement.

I point the gun at the target, my arm stretched out straight. I squint one eye as I aim, a habit I have formed. I take in a deep breath preparing myself.

As I let out my breath, I pull the trigger. I barely move from the recoil.

Bullseye!

I fire a more shots, all going though at the same exact spot.

I already feel so much better.

I look around taking in my surroundings. The ceiling is a pale off white color and the walls are made out of brick. There is a shooting range, where I am currently standing. In the opposite corner from me there are separate targets meant for throwing.  In the back there is lounge area. They have a few beat up couches and a vending machine.

There is a couple to my left. The guys seems to be trying to teach the girl how to shoot, she looks petrified. I laugh silently to myself. I remember a time not to long ago where that girl was me.

I see a lone man to the right of me, who seems to be a descent shot. There is a girl around my age at the throwing stations. For some reason she catches my eye. She has a really good shot, but I bet I am better. I stand there watching for like 5 minutes. Only 2 of her knives have not hit the center ring.

I go back to my shooting. After shooting a few more rounds I decide to go throw some knives.

I walk over to get a throwing station. The girl who I was looking at before is still there. I take the station next to the girl, but I ignore her.

I warm up my arm swinging them in circles. After my warm up I take out my throwing knives.

I sigh the last time I had thrown knives things had been so different.