“What is this?” Vil asked as he picked up a large and heavy cardboard box.
“Steel target system,” Mike said. “You’ll see. I should have gotten Dutov up here.”
They loaded up the tractor, then hauled all the material over to the long lawn on the south side.
“I’m going to want to berm all these walls eventually,” Mike said, directing Oleg over to the wall. “But this one will be first. It’s going to take a beating in the meantime.”
He started setting up the range, occasionally consulting a layout he’d drawn. On the west side he dropped steel targets for a pistol range along with the materials for a rolling target system, then set out more target materials for a rifle range on the east. The rifle range was only going to be about sixty meters long, which wasn’t nearly enough, but it would do for “around the house” practice.
Using the posthole digger attachment on tractor they set up wooden target stands and settled the bases of the steel targets. Both of them they set in concrete from bags of Quikrete Mike had gotten from the hardware store. It took most of the day to finish setting up the range to Mike’s satisfaction, including having Sawn and Padrek set up shooting tables from raw boards. As with any project, they had to go back to the house for stuff Mike had forgotten and at one point he sent Pavel to the hardware store for more Quikrete and nails.
By the end of the day, though, they had a decent fixed range to shoot at.
“Okay,” Mike said as the sun was going down. “Back here tomorrow at nine to start classes in weapons.”
“We can be here earlier, Kildar,” Vil pointed out. “We are up at dawn.”
“So am I,” Mike said. “Running. Nine.”
Mike was shaved, showered and fed when the Keldara turned up. In addition to the six that had been there before, Oleg had brought another Keldara, an older man, maybe forty or fifty although it was difficult to tell with the Keldara, who was thin and hard looking.
“Lasko has some experience with shooting,” Oleg said. “I hope you don’t mind me bringing him. He is very good.”
“Most of the time you have to retrain people who think they can shoot,” Mike said. “But we’ll see. Let’s head down to the cellars.”
Most of the weapons were still in boxes and Mike had dragged a couple out of the locked storeroom where they were secured.
“This is the basic weapon that the militia will be issued,” Mike said, cracking the seal on the wooden box and opening it up to reveal some silver pouches, each with the outline of an automatic rifle. “They used to ship these things in Cosmoline, which is a bitch and a half to take off. Fortunately, just about everybody’s gone to vacuum pack these days.”
He pulled out one of the pouches and slit it, pulling out an AK variant.
“This is the Skoda AKMS,” Mike said, jacking the slide back and checking the barrel. “Anybody know what I just did?”
“Checked to see if there was a bullet in it,” Lasko said.
“A round, yeah,” Mike corrected. “A bullet is the little lead and copper bit that kills. A round is the shell, propellant and bullet. Any time you get handed a weapon, the first thing you do is check the breach.” He closed the breach and tossed the weapon to Oleg.
Oleg lifted the weapon in interest and started to rotate it.
“Oleg,” Mike snapped. “What’s the first thing you do?”
“You didn’t find anything, Kildar,” Oleg said, puzzled.
“It doesn’t matter,” Mike said. “Check. The. Chamber.”
Oleg jacked the slide back and a round came flying out.
The Keldara muttered a curse that Mike didn’t quite catch and looked at the Kildar angrily.
“I palmed a round and dropped it in when I was closing the chamber,” Mike said. “It’s a very old trick. But I bet you’ll never forget to check it again. Everybody grab one of the rifles and get them out of the foil.”
The other six got their weapons out and Mike was pleased that all of them checked the chambers as soon as they were clear of the foil.
“Okay, set them down for now and let’s get some ammo,” Mike said.
The ammunition was stored in another locked room and Mike pulled out a couple of cases of 7.62x39 along with a case of magazines.
“Let’s go,” Mike said when they had all the materials.
They headed up to the range and loaded mags, then laid the guns out without mags in the well.
“The way the military teaches about weapons is to have you learn everything about them first, live with them, sleep with them, strip and clean them and then, maybe, they let you shoot them,” Mike said. “I think they go about it all wrong. Earplugs,” he said, handing them out. “Always wear earplugs if you can; shooting will take away your hearing in a heartbeat. Now, one thing you have to do with a weapon is zero it. Everybody shoots differently, so every weapon has to be zeroed to their particular form. Oleg, you first.”
Mike showed him how to take a good solid shooting prone position on a tarp he’d laid out, then walked him through trigger squeeze and sight alignment.
“Okay, slip the magazine in the well like this,” Mike said, showing him the proper sequence. “Jack back the slide and take your first shot.”
Oleg followed the directions and lined up the target. It was a standard five point shooting target at twenty-five meters. He took his first shot and it was high and left.
“Do two more,” Mike said, watching the shots through his binoculars.
Oleg put two rounds in close to each other and the other was a flyer.
“Okay, you’re high and left,” Mike said. “The second shot was a flyer, you flinched or jerked the trigger, I can’t tell which.”
He zeroed Oleg and the other “leader” types, then got to Lasko.
“I can zero,” Lasko said, getting in a prone position.
He took three shots, slow, and all but the first seemed to miss. But as the Keldara adjusted his zero, Mike took a closer look at the target through the spotting scope. He could swear the hole looked too large for a 7.62.
“Did you just put all three shots through the same hole?” Mike asked, quietly.
“Yes,” Lasko answered, just as calmly. “I am adjusted, now. May I continue shooting, Kildar?”
“Go,” Mike said.
Lasko fired five more shots, all of them making a single large hole in the bull’s-eye.
“Okay,” Mike said, nodding. “You’re good. Very good. Where’d you learn to shoot?”
“I am the family hunter,” Lasko said. “We hunt, a little. I am the best shot in the Keldara,” he added with quiet pride. “This gun is not so accurate, though.”
“No, it’s not,” Mike said. “Okay, troops, you go ahead and blaze away. Lasko, give pointers. Stay on semi-auto; the first guy that goes full auto gets kicked out of the class. I’m going into the house for a couple of other weapons.”
Mike went back to the cellars and got a couple of gun cases and cases of ammo. One of the cases was heavy enough and awkward enough, he had to put it in a rucksack to carry it back.
“How’s it going?” Mike asked Lasko when he got back.
“They are fair,” the older man said. “They have much to learn.”
“Well, we’ll see if you do,” Mike said, setting out the cases and ammo on the rifle range. It was still too short for what he wanted to do but it would work for zeroing. “Come on over here, Lasko.”
He opened up one case and pulled out a Mannlicher 7mm sniper rifle with a 10x scope, then opened up the other and set out a Robar .50-caliber bolt action with a 20x scope. Last he set up a spotting scope.