Post by Soldier 76 on Aug 22, 2016 20:28:41 GMT
The shooting range was state of the art 20 years ago, not that much changes with target practice; ear protection on George had his rifle against his shoulder, finger on the trigger, there was a might loud bang. Hand at the bolt he pushed it up, forward, down and back in one fluid motion, discharging the spent shell and reloading a new one. Bolt action rifles took a bit of strength to handle, and there were far better pulse alternatives these days, but he was fond of the classics. This old Winchester had been in the family a century at least. He fired till the 5 round clip was expended and had the target brought close as he pulled the magazine out. Well, that wasn't too bad for someone who didn't do much shooting. Decent tight fire pattern, not hard with a rifle like this though.
Ansell eased over having been watching George. He ran his hands over the weapon thoughtfully, lingering on the date inscription and polished reconditioned wood. It really was a classic. It also didn't take pulse rounds, meaning it was expensive to shoot with. "Why bolt?" he asked curiously, putting his AR-15 on the counter. "Isn't heavy?"
"Yeah it's heavy, it's also worked for 100 years; and I prefer a bolt, cause the one you've got reminds me of the Navy, prefer to forget it if I can," he replied, offering Ansell a magazine for his rifle. The wildman looked thrilled, pulse rounds! Real bullets! He hooked it in and before he could run off to his own target, George slipped ear protection on him. Wolff gave a grin as he hustled to take a box next to the other man.
A few shots followed in quick progression, 1, 2, 3, a perfect controlled burst. Not a bad spread as he watched Ansell shooting. Definitely military with that stance and fire pattern. Shots to the head, and heart, tight control. He hummed, and hit a button making the targets move in weaving patterns. This didn't bother Ansell, three bullets, each target he lead carefully; certainly hadn't lost that. George was impressed. When Ansells clip was spent, he looked to George curiously. The man had a funny look on his face.
"You hit friendlies," he'd mention when Ansell removed his ear protection. The wildman furrowed his brows, what? George pointed at the targets, some of them shot were unarmed civilian types. Friendlies?
"No. No Friendlies," Ansell replied. "All dangerous."
"Not out here, if you're in the field on mission, there will be friendlies. You gotta know the moment you look who is and who isn't your friend," he reminded. This wasn't the outback anymore. Ansell frowned, right. He could do that, surely. Surely. He cradled the rifle. George sighed, and roped an arm around Ansell. "It's fine you'll get there."
Ansell eased over having been watching George. He ran his hands over the weapon thoughtfully, lingering on the date inscription and polished reconditioned wood. It really was a classic. It also didn't take pulse rounds, meaning it was expensive to shoot with. "Why bolt?" he asked curiously, putting his AR-15 on the counter. "Isn't heavy?"
"Yeah it's heavy, it's also worked for 100 years; and I prefer a bolt, cause the one you've got reminds me of the Navy, prefer to forget it if I can," he replied, offering Ansell a magazine for his rifle. The wildman looked thrilled, pulse rounds! Real bullets! He hooked it in and before he could run off to his own target, George slipped ear protection on him. Wolff gave a grin as he hustled to take a box next to the other man.
A few shots followed in quick progression, 1, 2, 3, a perfect controlled burst. Not a bad spread as he watched Ansell shooting. Definitely military with that stance and fire pattern. Shots to the head, and heart, tight control. He hummed, and hit a button making the targets move in weaving patterns. This didn't bother Ansell, three bullets, each target he lead carefully; certainly hadn't lost that. George was impressed. When Ansells clip was spent, he looked to George curiously. The man had a funny look on his face.
"You hit friendlies," he'd mention when Ansell removed his ear protection. The wildman furrowed his brows, what? George pointed at the targets, some of them shot were unarmed civilian types. Friendlies?
"No. No Friendlies," Ansell replied. "All dangerous."
"Not out here, if you're in the field on mission, there will be friendlies. You gotta know the moment you look who is and who isn't your friend," he reminded. This wasn't the outback anymore. Ansell frowned, right. He could do that, surely. Surely. He cradled the rifle. George sighed, and roped an arm around Ansell. "It's fine you'll get there."
