Pavlov (manxman)

chapter 5: Don't ask too many questions.

Ivan was in the firearm storage room, sitting at the table with Artyom. The older man was showing him how to properly take a gun apart and clean it, since he hadn't had much training yet around handling a firearm at all. Most gang members always carried some sort of weapon on them. The higher enforcers rifles, lower ranked often pistols. So there was no exception for Ivan. He wasn't an enforcer so he was granted a m19 after about a week in the gang. He hadn't used it yet tho and honestly feared the day he'd have to on a living target.

A lower ranking gang member was supposed to show him how to clean his weapon and shoot, but upon entering the room Artyom was already there using the shooting range. The big man had taken one look at the guy, shook his head and sent him on his way out with a new job to do instead.

"You knew him?" Ivan asked.

Artyom nodded. "Sloppy guy. Not a good example."

He had taken off his gear and motioned for him to follow to the storage room.

Artyom had laid his big callused hand on the table and made a beckoning motions with his fingers.

Ivan unsure what he meant just stared at his hand.

"Your fire arm," Artyom clarified.

"Oh Right."

Ivan fumbled as he removed the gun from his belt holster and placed it into the bigger man's hand.

Artyom skillfully removed the magazine seeing it was still completely full.

"Never shot it before?"

"No I uh... I haven't no."

Artyom shook his head. Although he had a feeling it wasn't at his expense. He returned the gun and stood up taking the same model from one of the compartments.

"I'll demonstrate, then you shoot and replicate what I taught you on yours, alright? "

"Yes, okay."

Artyom disassembled the gun, pointing out important parts as he worked and showed him how to properly clean it. He spoke slowly in a deep, clear voice and made it clear at the beginning that if he didn't understand something to ask. It was better to ask something than for your gun to blow up in your hands when you shot it as a result of reassembling it incorrectly.

After cleaning and lubricating it, Artyom deftly placed back all the parts and motioned for him to follow. He brought him back to the shooting range, demonstrating how to shoot. Hitting the practice target right in the forehead.

Ivan was impressed, but not surprised. After all he hadn't forgotten how Artyom had executed that small audience some time ago as if it was nothing.

The way he always walked around with that rifle on his back, it made sense the boss would only grand those to people who knew how to shoot properly.

Artyom stepped back and motioned for Ivan to try next.

"Put your feet like this. Make sure you feel sturdy or the recoil will get ya. And always shoot on empty lungs," he had advised as he adjusted Ivan's stance slightly.

"Aim for the head or the heart."

Ivan nodded.

For his first time shooting, he missed the first few but eventually managed to hit the target in the shoulder and in the chest area. He assumed the rest of the gang must have thought he'd already had some sort of experience with firearms, when he was first given his weapon, or they surely never would have. Artyom must have shook his head upon the thought that no one had bothered to confirm this assumption. Then again he never said he couldn't either out of embarrassment...