Axel

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The Training [PT I]

T R I N I T Y

                  War can be a dangerous thing if you are unprepared. The difference between victory and defeat is the time spent preparing for every possible outcome. I've learnt that the hard way. In order to come off victorious, you have to be willing to focus your mind and practice until you can predict your opponent's every move - every thought process. You need to be in sync with them to know every step of the way; every punch, every jab.

Which explains why now I was here with Sharp in their armoury in the basement of the house. The place was a fvcking fortress. As you entered the room, you were greeted with bleak grey walls with a layer of dark stone walls on the left side of the room where guns of all sizes were plastered. A three-monitor computer sat on the right just before a black wooden door. Sharp made me take it all in before he nodded his head toward the second door. I followed him in and let my eyes feast on the large space before me.

Similarly to the main room, it was splashed with grey walls all around. Completely open concept, a thick black mat took the center of the room, large enough to cover almost three-quarters of the cream-tiled floors. To the far right, five wooden figures carved in the shape of men had their backs to the wall. I could tell they were practiced on often by the numerous holes in the chest, head and stomach.

"We used to have separate training rooms for the shooting range and the combat training but we decided to open everything up," Sharp commented, pointing towards the shooting area. Now the only thing separating both areas were five large columns stretching from the floor to the ceiling. My brow lifted when he mentioned the shooting range. How the fuck did they even afford all this?

Now that the money is cut off from the cartel, how were they funding all this? How was this not an easy target for Hector and his men to just come barging in?

"Which do you want to try first?" he asked me as he walked across the room to the storage lockers. "Actually, let's see how you do down the shooting line."

"I'm not sniper material, Sharp," I told him upfront as I followed him across the room to the small shooting range. There's no way I'd be able to shoot the way he does. Besides, there was a certain thrill that coursed through my veins when I ended my targets face to face. I've said it before, and I'll say it again, I liked to play with my food. Just like the cat mother taught me to be.

He shrugged off my comment and thrust a loaded gun into my hands.

"I'm not expecting you to be a sniper. Your combat skills are an asset on the ground than in the sky, believe me, I know that from the mean right hook you delivered," he said turning to face me. "But it's not always about hand-to-hand combat. You never know what can happen in a fight. What I want from you is to be comfortable with it should it ever come up."

"I am comfortable with shooting and all that jazz, but I will always prefer my sharp demons to these... these quick killers," I shrugged, waving around the Glock in my hand.

"Yes, we know you love to play with your food. Axel has mentioned that plenty," he muttered, "but we all could benefit from some basic training in all areas so we at least know that we can depend on each other should it come to that. You never know what can happen on the battlefield."

I strung out a sigh, knowing he was right. When we were ambushed on the beach, before we crossed the waters, my previous training with guns gave me an added advantage when Axel just tossed me a gun and told me to shoot. There wasn't much else to do.