With Monica speaking up for Owen, the team decided to give him a chance. For this next drill, Owen was assigned the secondary breacher role.
However, things quickly became awkward.
While Owen could cheat in marksmanship and reaction speed, he couldn't cheat when it came to tactics and techniques. There were things he simply didn't know.
The moment they reached a corner maneuver, he was called to a stop.
ASH's expression darkened. She stared at him for a second before turning to Campbell with an annoyed look.
"Teach him."
The drill was paused, and ASH didn't bother to save Owen from embarrassment. His face burned a little, but there was no helping it—this was the price of learning.
With the entire SWAT unit watching, Campbell started explaining.
Owen had been doing it wrong—his rifle barrel was too far forward when clearing corners.
The proper method was to keep some distance from the wall and move the gun and body together. Otherwise, an enemy could grab the barrel and disarm him.
Campbell went further, explaining:
- Footwork, angles, team positioning, and role transitions.
- When taking a left turn, the gun should be held in the right hand. When taking a right turn, the gun should be held in the left hand—this minimized exposure.
- Switching to CAR shooting stance was better for CQB situations.
- T-intersections required different tactics—the second and third breachers would swap roles depending on the situation.
It all made sense once explained, but Owen never would've thought of it himself.
CQB was the most dangerous combat environment. Every small technique was the result of hard-earned lessons learned through bloodshed—details that seemed trivial but were absolutely vital.
With these new skills in mind, Owen resumed the drill.
But by now, some teammates were doubting him.
Even with Monica's endorsement, they couldn't understand how a rookie like him could have such great marksmanship but lack fundamental CQB knowledge.
One guy in particular—a man nicknamed "Heat", real name Jordan Triss—seemed to take issue with him. He kept throwing out sarcastic remarks until ASH snapped at him to shut up.
For this breach, Triss took the breaching role. Unlike Campbell, who had used hot breaching, Triss opted for cold breaching.
With a powerful kick to the area near the lock, he broke the door open.
"Skittles!" he shouted, tossing a flashbang inside.
The moment the grenade exploded, the entry team stormed in.
The point man, standing directly in the doorway, was the most exposed and vulnerable. He wore extra armor and a ballistic mask since he was the most likely target for enemies lying in wait.
As soon as the flashbang went off, Monica and Owen cleared the corner enemies.
This was CQB standard procedure—the two breachers had to eliminate threats immediately, so the rest of the team could enter safely.
Owen performed flawlessly.
With his "cheat mode" activated, he fired double taps with deadly precision, eliminating two simulated hostiles hiding in the blind spots.
Then, he moved with the assault team into the room.
Within seconds, the gunfight was over.
Owen had personally taken out three hostiles—almost half the enemy force.
When the exercise ended, the team lowered their weapons and remained silent.
But Owen could feel the change—the way people looked at him had shifted.
"Dismissed. Free time now."
ASH was the first to leave, followed by the rest of the team.
---
Back in the locker room, Owen removed his gear, turning to Campbell once they were alone.
"Hey, when Triss threw the flashbang, why did he yell 'Skittles'? Shouldn't he have just called it a flashbang?"
Campbell laughed, patting Owen on the shoulder.
"It's just an inside thing—a habit we developed. Flashbangs are 'Skittles.' Grenades are 'Ping Pong Balls.'"
Owen raised an eyebrow.
"Why?"
"It's so we always know who's throwing. If someone shouts 'Skittles' or 'Ping Pong Ball,' it means one of us threw it. If we ever hear someone shout 'Grenade!', we know it's an enemy grenade."
Owen nodded, impressed.
"That actually makes a lot of sense."
Still, he was curious.
"Okay, but… why call grenades Ping Pong Balls? Because they look round?"
Campbell grinned.
"Nope. Because ASH loves playing ping pong."
Owen sighed.
"Of course. The commander gets to make the rules."
---
Back at the training ground, everyone had split up for free practice.
Since SWAT members came from different backgrounds, they all had different strengths and weaknesses.
To accommodate this, half the training time was spent on team drills, while the other half was self-directed—allowing members to improve individual skills.
Owen noticed Monica practicing rapid-fire drills, just like she had done at the IPSC range. The ground around her was littered with spent shell casings—no wonder she was so damn accurate.
Other teammates were working on combat first aid, fitness drills, or tactical entries.
In one corner, Triss was practicing his draw speed.
Owen wasn't a fan of the guy, but he had to admit—Triss was fast.
Every time, he drew, aimed, reset, and holstered, repeating the motion with blazing speed.
When Triss noticed Owen watching, he inserted his pistol back into its holster and smirked challengingly.
"Hey, kid. Didn't expect you to actually have some skills."
He leaned against the wall, crossing his arms.
"No wonder Monica seems to respect you. But you're still a rookie. How about a little friendly challenge? I'll show you what real speed looks like."
Before Owen could answer, Campbell chuckled behind him.
"Seriously, Triss? Are you trying to hustle the new guy with your quick-draw routine?"
He turned to Owen and lowered his voice.
"You don't have to take the bait. Triss has the fastest draw in the whole team—he just wants to embarrass you. But hey… the fact that he's even challenging you means he's already acknowledged you. Texas cowboys hate admitting it, but they respect skill."
Owen paused, considering Campbell's words.
Then, he smirked.
Instead of backing down, he walked straight toward Triss.
Triss's eyes flickered with surprise—he hadn't expected the rookie to step up.
But he quickly hid his reaction, preparing to say something cocky.
Before he could, Owen suddenly moved.
In an instant, he drew his pistol.
Before Triss could even react, Owen had his gun aimed directly at his forehead.
"Is this the 'real technique' you were talking about?"