Weapons Training
TUMB 07/8 Royce is instructing the trainees on how to use firearms.
“Yesterday we went over a live-fire exercise, and I learned firsthand why gangbangers can’t hit shit. It’s calling aiming, dumbasses. The point of a fight is to kill the other guy, not look cool.” “Today’s focus is different. Weapons handling is important, and we’ll keep that up with daily sessions going forward. Being able to fire your weapon at a large unmoving target is one thing. Hitting your target when it’s moving or you’re under fire is a different thing entirely.”
Royce marched over to a table covered in large black angular rifles. Several large boxes lay underneath. “James has seen fit to invest a lot of money into your training.” He picked up one of the rifles. “This isn’t a real gun, because shooting your asses would just mean I have to train a new batch of losers. That said, it feels and handles weight-wise like a real gun, complete with recoil and a loud ass simulated report, but it throws out a laser, not a bullet. We’ll be using electronics to register the hits.” “Half of training is developing muscle memory and instincts. The last thing I want is a group of men who aren’t afraid of getting shot. You think just because you’ve scrapped with some other gangs you know combat, but you don’t know shit. Real battle isn’t a fucking video game. There’s no respawn if your brains get blown out.”
“You’ll be wearing expensive suits in our new tactical room.” “Nope, these aren’t business suits. They are jumpsuits lined with specialty electronics that interact with the rifle simulators. If a shot skims you, they’ll vibrate. If you get shot, it’ll shock you, and it’ll hurt like a bitch. That way you learn to fear getting shot and don’t treat training like a video game. If you don’t drop within a few seconds, it’ll hurt a hell of a lot more. Also note that once you’re dead, you can’t shoot anymore.” He held up the rifle. “For now we’re treating this shit as one shot, one kill. The problem in a lot of gun battles is that once you get shot, you can bleed out because you don’t realize how injured you are thanks to adrenaline. I’m training you to not get shot at all, so you don’t die in a stupid-ass way.”
“Today we’re going to have two teams—a friendly team and an opposing force. The teams will be randomly selected by the program controlling the suits. Friendly team’s suits will be lined with blue lights, and the OPFOR will be red. Today’s exercise is easy. Team death-match. Eliminate all members of the other team.” He pointed to the boxes. “Everyone, suit up. We’ve got a battle to conduct.”
Two teams in blue- and red-lined jumpsuits marched toward the tactical room. Royce stepped up and tapped the code into the keypad on the side. The lock in the door clicked, and he pulled the door open. “Everyone in,” the Marine ordered. Trey filed in first, followed by the rest of the red team and then the blue team, their rifle simulators held with both hands and treated as if they were regular loaded weapons. Gun safety, even of empty or simulated weapons, was something Royce treated as a zero-tolerance matter. The tactical room was a darkened gym-sized two-level maze filled with blocks, dead ends, ramps, and stairs. Even though no one except Trey and Royce knew about it, smoke machines had been installed in the roof, along with massive speakers and misters in case they wanted to simulate different weather conditions. The jumpsuits weren’t waterproof, but they were water-resistant.
Trey talks about having taken a chest shot already. Bulletproof vest. But let me tell you, it still hurts like a motherfucker when you get hit wearing a bulletproof vest. It bruised my rib, and I was lucky it didn’t break.” Royce nodded. “Not only that, depending on what type of bullet or rifle enemy is using, the bullets might go straight through. Vests are useful, but you can’t depend on them to save your life. Your typical anti-firearm bulletproof vest doesn’t do well against shit like knives. Cover will save your life in a firefight. All that movie bullshit where someone stands out in the open and sprays without getting hit—it’ll get you killed. Do I make myself fucking clear?”
“Most of you will be working the job in teams, so this exercise will help reinforce that. Watch each other’s backs, and don’t assume that just because you see a lone enemy, they don’t have someone providing them with overwatch. We’ve loaded this place with a lot of surprises, but today I’m not going make you deal with any of that. This is just the start of you honing the situational awareness that’ll help you not have to depend on armor or vests. The best way to survive any battle is to hit the enemy and not be hit. Simple to learn, hard to master.” The drill instructor marched toward stairs leading to the second level. “I’ll be watching everything. If you’re hit, just go down. It’ll hurt less. Everyone, you have a minute to get into position on opposite sides of the tactical room.”
The battle raged, Lachlan was the first to be "killed" on his team, Trey the last, on the other team. Trey's team lost - all "dead", with five surviving on the winning team. The suits were disabled, and everyone got up.
