Location: Bassingbourn Barracks, East of England

Unit: British Army Cadet Force

Date: July 11th, 2020 CE

Walking down an old decrepit road, a kid dressed in British Army uniform walked. In his hands, he held a semi-automatic rifle fitted with a yellow plug in the barrel. He carried empty magazines and a few other bits and pieces.

He kept moving forward, completely lost from his section as he wandered the road. After every pace, he felt the sun blaze down on his bush hat covered in grass.

Approaching a much bigger platform he looked left and right analysing the area. Taking a pace forward he felt eyes watching him. He took a pace backwards, speaking, "Anyone there?" he paused, "I'm lost."

Then from behind a pallet he saw a muzzle flash as a bullet whizzed past his face. Diving to the ground he felt his rifle smash into his chest. Pulling himself behind a small wall, he pulled a small box from one of his pouches, opening it up, he revealed a small mirror along with a small colour pallet of three different colours. Holding it by the colour pallet, he put the mirror around the corner, seeing a tower along with a whole Forward Operating base that looked like it had been torn from the Middle East operations from a few years ago. Suddenly, he saw the muzzle flash again, this time from the bottom of the tower.

The mirror shattered in the kid's hand, and his hand started to shake. Looking at the remains he froze for a few seconds, before dropping the small shards left. Suddenly, recoiling back as gunfire shot no more than a metre from him, hitting his head on the back of the table he swore, "Fuck."

Suddenly seeing it had a few shelves, he noticed several 5.56 magazines loaded with live ammunition. Contemplating his actions he stared at them for a few seconds. Suddenly, gunfire woke him from his decision-making as he instinctively unscrewed the yellow plug before inserting the magazine. Moving his rifle to his right shoulder, he peaked the corner firing on one of the windows before hearing a loud explosion, like it was a grenade that was set off. Quickly moving to the other side he peaked looking carefully, moving back into cover he faced the wall, sweating.

He wiped his forehead removing his bush hat. He paused hearing something behind him, a footstep... then.

"Move and you die kid," the voice said, the kid felt a cold barrel on the back of his neck, and he dropped his rifle noticing something on the shelves, a pistol, it was small. The slide was locked in the back and a round was chambered. He could see the brass cartridge in the magazine. He wondered if it was safe or not.

Gulping the kid asked, "Can I turn around?"

The figure nodded, "Slowly."

The kid turned his body concealing his left arm behind his body, and then he stopped. The figure looked at him, "You going to finish turning?"

The kid saw the figure's eyes begin to twitch, then his eyes began to close, it was like time slowed down around him, drawing his arm up he pointed the small pistol close to the man's face before hitting the slide release and pulling the trigger.

Several shots rang out as burned hot air and extreme pressure exited the barrel hitting the figure in the chest.

The figure stood there smiling, no bullets had connected, "Well done, you passed."

The kid froze.

The figure turned around, "Call me Reaper," he paused, "now what's your name?"

The kid shook his head, "James T-Thompson."

Reaper looked at James, "Well James, you're an incredibly fast draw. However, look in the magazine."

James pulled back the slide looking at the ammunition still stored in the magazine, "They're blanks?"

Reaper nodded, "First thing you should have checked," he turned around locking his pistol in his holster, "Follow me, I have something to show you."

James tightened his rifle to his chest following Reaper down the well-beaten path, "Um, I should really get back to my unit."

Reaper looked back, "I mean you can if you want, won't change the bollocking you're going to get, though," he paused, "However, before you go, do you how firearms work?"

James stood there, head tilted, "What do you mean?"

"What I'm asking is do you want to learn how to use every firearm with minimal training?" Reaper asked.

James nodded slowly, "Could be useful."

Reaper nodded, "Follow me then," hitting one of the sides of the containers he turned to James as it opened, "Take a pistol and a rifle, nothing else."

A rack of several weapons appeared, some collector's pieces, some brand new. James noticed both an old C96 Mauser and a Luger P08, they were both in near pristine condition, but there were still scars from battle imprinted on the side. However, he chose neither of these, what he chose as a sidearm was a brand-new Glock. For his rifle it was a bit of a decision, turning his head slightly he saw Reaper tapping his leg, "Making a meal out of this, aren't we?"

James sighed, immediately putting his hand on the rack he grabbed the side of a rifle without looking, twisting it around he looked at it. It was similar in shape and size to the American M4 but on the side, it said 'Colt Canada'.

Reaper looked at him, "Fucking hell, you're addicted to the Nairobi Complex Attack as well?"

James just looked at him confused, "I guess the rifles do look similar."

Reaper sighed, "Fine, I don't care!" Pulling another magazine from a rack he entered one of the crates next door and James watched as he unclipped a rifle from a mechanism, Mclaw didn't look at James but he still spoke, "It's a drip rifle, incredibly useful for a distraction, I'd suggest you learn how it works, they saved British lives in Gallipoli, and they might save your life one day."

James nodded looking careful as Mclaw disabled it, "Drip rifles, eh?"

The Reaper chuckled, "Yep." Chambering a round chambered a round in the M16 he had taken from the drip rifle mechanism, he spoke, "This is how you should be able to shoot."

He pulled his rifle into his shoulder. Switching to full auto, he held down the trigger. All thirty rounds flew out of the barrel before slamming into a small target at the end of the training area. At first sight, it only looked like one bullet had hit, but as James looked closer he noticed all the bullets had penetrated the same hole, drilling straight through the target.

Reaper looked at James, "Now let's see you try, unlike your cadet rifle, this weapon has its cocking handle on the top. Pull it back." James did as he was told, hearing the rifle's mechanism slamming forward a round was loaded into the chamber, Reaper continued, "This rifle is a select fire and has no safety catch so if you point the rifle down range and move your thumb slightly up you should find a switch, flick it twice so its 180 degrees from where it began."

James complied keeping the rifle steadied, the Reaper spoke, "Next, hold down the trigger."

James looked at him, "What about my ear defs?"

Reaper tilted his head confused, "You don't have them in?"

James shook his head pulling out a set of large headphone-looking items from his pocket.

Reaper swore, pulling a small string connecting two ever so slightly larger objects on each end from his pocket, "Wear these."

James nodded, inserting the small plugs into his ears. He looked at Reaper readying his rifle again.

Then he held down the trigger, and the rifle immediately recoiled in his shoulder, over and over again it was being pushed up into the sky, and he couldn't control it. Putting more pressure on his leg furthest forward he leaned into the rifle.

Then he heard the click.

Immediately losing balance he felt himself slam into the ground with the being forced into his chin.

Turning over he grabbed his head, it was ringing, his hearing was gone and his chin aching. Above him stood a shadow who mouthed something. They were repeating, "Get Up," He suddenly heard his surrounding come to life. Immediately jumping to his feet he grabbed the pistol grip.

Reaper was looking over his shoulder, "now switch the rifle to safe and take this," he handed him the pistol as James pushed the safety back on the rifle. He kept the pistol pointed towards the ground moving the rifle across his body.

Reaper spoke, "Pull back the slide and let it slam forward," James did as he was told. Hearing the slide slam forward, a round was pushed into the chamber.

He brought the pistol into the aiming position as Reaper spoke again, "Fire."

James fired into the target at a steady rate, and most of his shots hit, but they were delayed and were more the style of a competition shooter rather than a soldier.

Mclaw nodded, "It's good for a first attempt, but you need to be able to shoot faster with more precision to be useful in battle."

James sighed, looking at the rough groupings compared to Reaper's.

***

A few hours passed, and James was getting much better. By Reaper's measurements, James could hit the same place half the time at 150 metres. Watching him thread the bullet through the central hole, Reaper grinned, "Good shooting kid."

James lowered his rifle unloading the magazine, "I'm out of ammunition."

Reaper nodded, "Perfect timing, as I will have to go now."

James switched the C8 to safe, "I understand, Sir," he handed him back the rifle and pistol along with a holster he had been given.

Reaper smiled, "Quickly before I go, I'll stick my neck out for you kid."

James tilted his head to the side, suddenly breaking into a fast walk as Reaper entered the grassland, immediately climbing hills and going down the other side. Reaper turned around tossing James his cadet rifle. Immediately slinging the rifle over his shoulder James continued following not saying a word.

They walked for a few minutes when Reaper heard a voice. It was quiet, "Halt!"

Immediately Reaper put up his fist taking a knee. James stopped behind him, taking a knee.

The voice called out in a hushed voice, "Advance one to be recognised."

Reaper stood up, as the voice spoke again, "Halt!"

He took a knee again, he could see two figures, rifles pointed at him, on the end they had yellow pipes covering the barrel exit. Reaper noticed the rifles weren't loaded and saw a small flash of yellow in one of their pouches.

The voice spoke, "I don't recognise you, identify yourself or leave."

Reaper nodded, "I am a Captain in the Regular British Army. Could you call up your CO, I need to have a word about one of his cadets." He nodded to James, and the two sentries' eyes widened seeing him, the first sentry nodded at the second, "You go get him."

The second sentry stood up running with the rifle barrel horizontal. A few seconds later they returned with an older man, he was unarmed. Reaper noticed he was a Lieutenant by the rank slide on his centre chest.

"Thank you, Sir, I will have a word with the cadet now," The instructor said.

Reaper looked at him, "Could I talk to you in private for a second, Lieutenant?"

The instructor nodded walking behind a bush. James looked at the two sentries, and one of them spoke to him, "Where the fuck have you been, Thompson?"

Thompson shrugged, "I got lost a few hills over after my section left me," he paused, "I waited a few hours but no one came until the Captain found me. In answer to your question, Long."

The sentry, named Long, nodded, "Damn, at least you missed a shit tone of training.

The instructor came back, and Reaper was gone, "Thompson, go back to your basha, you'll be on sentry at 3 am."

Thompson sighed, "Understood, Sir."

Trudging back to his tent he held his rifle to his chest, suddenly he bumped into someone, he heard the rifles clatter together as his body twisted to the side, looking up he noticed it was a Lance Corporal, "Sorry Lance Corporal..." however, on the inside he was feeling a bit different, he knew exactly how Lance Corporals would act, all high and mighty, "Oh shit." He thought to himself

The Lance Corporal nodded, "It's fine, just watch where you are going next time," he patted Thompson on the shoulder as he walked off to the jerry cans. Thompson stood there shocked, expecting him to attempt to rip him a new one.

He continued to his tent, sitting down next to someone, "Well finally."

Thompson looked at him, "Not now, I'll tell you when we are on sentry."

The guy sitting next to him nodded opening a book, "Fine."

Thompson was indeed the butt of several jokes for the next few months...