espionage [h.s.]

FIFTEEN

A.N. Thank you for 10k reads already! I hope you're all enjoying the story so far, any feedback would be very appreciated so I can improve future chapters.

I've received some comments about there being some vagueness in the plot & the reasoning behind Rochelle's job, but those details have been missed out on purpose as it wouldn't be fun to reveal the whole story at the start now would it ;)

ROCHELLE

Firearm target practice, 5:30 pm

I squeeze my left eye shut, blocking out everything else around me. The world shrinks to no more than what I can see at the barrel of the gun, not focusing on anything but the weight of the weapon in my hand and the precise dot on the target about sixty metres away. With a deep exhale through my nose, my finger smooths along the cool metal of the gun before tucking itself under the trigger. With my gaze completely focused, I suddenly fire off a succession of shots, all of which slam perfectly into the head of the target in no more than a split second.

Smiling in satisfaction, I lower my gun and fall back into an easy stance, examining my own work. I don't seem to be the only one admiring my target, because I glance to the side to find Stefan scanning it with an impressed look, his dark eyes flashing back to meet mine. Reaching up to grab one of my protective earmuffs, I pull it down so I'm able to hear him.

"Wow, Rochelle," he says, rolling the 'r' in my name due to his heavy Bulgarian accent. "You are......how do you say in English?" He momentarily furrows his eyebrows as he searches for the right word, eyes lighting up once he's got it. "Badass!"

I laugh softly, shaking my head at him in amusement. "Thanks. But look at your target," I say, gesturing over to his own target full of precise bullet holes. "That's impressive."

His lips stretch into a grin but he shrugs bashfully, making me laugh again. "You'd be a good team member," he tells me and I smile at him gratefully. "I hope we can be on this upcoming mission together."

I nod in agreement. "Me too," I say, although I'm a little distracted now, my eyes watching the female trainer, Niamh, who's strolling around with a clipboard held against her chest. From what I've figured out, she seems to be observing our shooting skills, scribbling things down about us, which she will probably take back to Harry and the other trainers to decide who gets to go on the upcoming mission that everyone's been talking about. We haven't been told much about it, but I assume one of the requirements is to be a great shot.

With this in mind, I pull my earmuff back over my left ear, turning back to focus on my target and taking a few more shots at it. Unlike with the knife target practice where it took me a while to adjust, I'm a natural at this. From a young age, I could always easily hit a target with whatever instrumental was at hand, whether that be playing darts or archery, but guns are different. I've always been fascinated with them. Not in a creepy, obsessive way, but just out of pure interest. The way the cold metal feels in your hands, the rush of adrenaline as the explodes from the barrel, as well as the obvious satisfaction gained when it perfectly hits your target. It's fun, to me at least.