"Just my luck…" groaned Sean, standing up painfully, he immediately pulled the quick release handle of the JPC plate carrier, checking himself underneath. Fortunately, the ballistic plate inside stopped the pistol round, and he is unscathed apart from some lingering sense of pain.
"Good to know that my equipment is working at least…" he joked, behaving like a true professional, not giving a damn that he almost bit the dust.
Louis on the other hand is not calm at all. He stared at the hole in Sean's plate carrier.
The realisation that within the same day, he had caused an elimination of a comrade due to his mistake, and now he almost KILLED someone, let alone the comrade closest to him, the crushing terror of guilt enveloped him, which finally broke his mental state that has been hanging on by a thread.
He ran away, not having the courage to face Sean.
"Louis! It's ok!" yelled Sean as he chased after him.
Louis dashed into an opened APC and locked himself inside. He slumped down in a corner, grabbing his face with his hands as he buried his face in them, bawling uncontrollably in self-hate and guilt.
"I really am a menace to my comrades…" he thought in between cries. The images of all of the cold side eyes he had received from comrades and instructors, be it under the Marines or with UNSSD, all played in front of him, from him shooting Clara and Eddie during drills, to causing Giorgio's elimination, to now, almost killing Sean.
"Sorry Papa, sorry Charlotte…I can't…I failed…" he cried.
Sean entered the vehicle bay, tracing Louis' crying and stopped in front of the APC He gently knocked the door.
"Sean, you there?" he asked.
"No…" muttered Louis in between sniffs.
Sean chuckled, remembering that Louis is barely an adult, much like himself. He is not surprised that the Cajun is speaking in a childish manner.
"Look, really, it's alright," he comforted.
Louis is incredulous at how calm and chill Sean is at almost being killed.
"YOU ALMOST DIED!" Louis yelled; his voice croaked from crying.
"How is that your fault?" retorted Sean. "The chances of a Glock drop firing are like the chances of being struck by lightning when you are completely insulated!"
"Heck, I am going to write an email to Glock! They really need to watch out their QC!" remarked Sean. "Really, it's not your fault, ok?" he comforted.
"Did you break any of the rules of firearm safety when the incident happened?" asked Sean "I believe the answer is none…"
"Sean please!" yelled Louis, interrupting Sean. "Don't try to make me feel better…I am not deserving…"
"If I hadn't dropped the gun from the recoil, your chances of being shot from drop firing will be zero!" he said, his voice croaked.
Sean sighed. "The reason why you are here is because you need help right…Well, technically I volunteered myself…but that's beyond the point!"
"Since you are here because you need help, I don't expect you to not screw up! While such an incident is out of my expectations the same logic applies!"
Sean knocked on the door again. "So, how about we continue? We still have 30 minutes before light's out!"
Hearing no reply, Sean chuckled. He climbed up the APC with ease, found the unlocked top hatch, opened it, and jumped inside, in front of the crying Louis. He unlocked the door and pulled Louis out, pulling him back to the range.
They were surprised to find Clara there at the entrance. She darted to the bullet hole on Sean's plate carrier, immediately understanding what is wrong, then she glared at Louis.
"Can you screw up screwing up?" she sneered as the 2 entered the range.
"Shut up," retorted Sean as he handed Louis a fresh rifle magazine. "Load, aim and shoot!"
Louis hesitated. The 30-round magazine of 5.56 looked increasingly like a hot piece of molten metal.
His shakily aligned the magazine to the magwell of his HK-416A5.
"You dare to load that magazine, I will beat you up," warned Clara coldly.
She cares for Sean as a matter of principle. She had her qualms about Sean pulling Louis along throughout the selection, feeling that he is dragging him down. Now, Louis almost got Sean killed. That to her is the last straw.
Either Number 42 is removed from the selection by elimination, or she will do it herself.
Louis froze, bowing his head. Fear had paralysed him.
"If she hits you, you hit her back!" retorted Sean. "It's not a matter of her being better than you or you being worse than her!"
"An eye for an eye. I promise I won't tell anyone. Testimony wise its 2 against 1," assured Sean.
Clara laughed incredulously. "It's not just me that wants you gone, everyone, from the cadets to the instructors, heck, I think only Sean and Ariel really want to look after you. Because they are good people, I give them that credit. The rest of us? Sorry, we are mean a**holes, just some has more civility than others."
"That's nonsense," retorted Sean, asking Louis to think of Albert and Eddie. He then turned to Clara. "If you want to mock him, at least be in the same room as him."
Clara immediately marched into room, kicking Louis' bag that blocked her way as she did so. She glared at Sean with defiant eyes, as if saying "I am doing this for your good, why can't you get it?"
Sean ignored Clara, he encouraged Louis, gently yet firmly.
"Louis, there is no turning back now. No one forced you to come to selection, you did on your own," said Sean.
"Why?" he asked. "You never told me your story."
Louis bit his lips, opening his mouth softly.
"I was 16…" he said. "…Maman and Papa took me and Charlotte and her parents to fishing…"
"There was a bomb at the dock…Vanguard…" he cried. "Only me and Maman were left, and half of her body is cybernetics…I…don't want anyone else to end up like her…like them…"
Clara's expression softened, she looked away, feeling a slight guilt now.
Such a personal reason also reminded her of her own motivations, too originating from loss.
"Good," commended Sean. "And you will do it, now you just need to load the gun, and shoot. You are almost there."
He smiled at Louis encouragingly.
Louis looked up, his lips quivering.
"Sorry…I…don't…dare…" he quivered.
Sean smile instantly vanished from his face, replace by an expression that is a mix of shock, anger and disappointment. He straightened up, looking into Louis' red eyes.
Furious, he threw his FAST helmet in rage, it landing on a loud thud on the floor, breaking the silence.
"YOU WANT TO DRAG ME DOWN FLETCHER?!" he screamed. "For your sake, I have pissed off almost all of the cadets since day 1! INCLUDING HER!" he said, pointing to Clara.
"If you keep this up it's not just you who will be washed out, that can include anyone from a butterfly effect! It can be Clara, it can be Ariel, it can be ME!" he roared.
The truth is he does not care about going back to Squad Artemis, but to make sure Louis get the message, he feigned.
"All because of a scraper?" asked Sean rhetorically.
Louis looked up at Sean. There is now a faint anger in his eyes. That id a dehumanising mockery he had heard too many times.
"I am throwing away my future…for a scraper?!" laughed Sean, pretending to mean it. "Because I saw how brave you were back in Hokkaido, so I thought you have the potential."
"But I guess I was wrong! I have a bad judge of character!" he said sarcastically. "Because this is what you are! Le Scraper!" he said mockingly, throwing a finger condescendingly at Louis, deliberately using French.
Louis now is fully looking at him in the eye. The fear is still in his eyes, but it is steadily being taken over by anger and indignation.
Sean knows that his strategy is working. He paused heaving, looking at Louis, who now is focused on his dark green dragon horns.
"Don't let me call you a scraper!" roared Sean, pointing to himself, then Clara. "Don't let her call you a scraper, don't let anyone call you a scraper! You are better than that, so do it!"
Louis cried, but now its tears of catharsis, not tears of fear and guilt.
"SHOOT!" roared Sean, pointing to the target boards.
Louis stared at the target boards, breathing.
"SHOOT, LOUIS, SHOOT!" yelled Sean.
Louis loaded the magazine, pulled the charging handle, flipped off the safety, and opened fire.
The first shots still missed the moving targets, Sean immediately held on to his gun, guiding him on the recoil impulse, even as ejected casings fly close to his face.
"Clamp your left hand on the handguard tighter," coached Sean. "Roll your dominant arm shoulder forward, you'll feel a pocket create between your front deltoid and pectoral muscle, bury the weapon in there for a firm placement."
The shots started landing on target.
"Now fire in controlled bursts!" said Sean.
Louis changed the selector, and soon, short bursts of fire came from the barrel.
Clara then pulled Sean away, not wanting him to remain in danger. She held on to Louis' shoulder; she is using her hand to guide the recoil.
"Steady, maintain, good," she said in short, curt words, remaining expressionless.
She then let go of Louis once he is more consistent. The bullets hit the target boards smoothly, not bullseyes, but close.
The HK-416A5 soon locked empty. Louis released the rifle, letting it rest against his chest, and drew the Glock 19 Gen 5, opening fire.
Sean smiled as he watched the holes appear on the target board.
Louis pushed forward. Every spent casing ejected is like a statement. A visualisation of him shedding his old self, bit by bit, one casing at a time.