A supply clerk fired five rounds that appeared to completely miss the target, but the range supervisor saw something that made her freeze.

Without hesitation, Claire let her breath out halfway and pressed the trigger again.

Crack!

A second sharp report echoed across the firing line. A brass casing spun through the air, glinting golden in the harsh sunlight before clattering onto the concrete floor at her boots.

Downrange, fifty yards away, the paper target fluttered once more under the blast of displaced air.

Still, no new hole appeared on the paper. The white sheet remained completely whole, unblemished by lead or copper.

Two seconds later: Crack!

The third round flew down the lane. Once again, the paper target stood perfectly intact, its black silhouette untouched, clean, and whole.

The soldiers behind the bench were practically weeping with laughter now. Briggs was leaning against a wooden support beam, wiping an imaginary tear from his eye as he gestured wildly downlane.

"She might be aiming for Colorado!" Briggs shouted to the group, drawing another roar of hysterical chuckles from Combat Group Charlie. "Hey, Morgan, do you need us to move the target to five yards? Or maybe we can just hand you a red pen so you can draw a hole on it!"

Caldwell smiled broadly, shaking his head as he looked at his watch. "Two more rounds, Private. Let's try to at least graze the paper before we waste any more ammo."

However, Master Sergeant Monroe was no longer looking at the paper target.

She had stepped away from the range-control station, walking slowly down the concrete lane until she stood just three feet behind Claire's right shoulder.

Monroe’s eyes were locked onto Claire's face.

She noticed things that Caldwell and Briggs were entirely blind to: when the rifle recoiled, Claire’s eye never left the sight picture. There was no flinch, no anticipatory shoulder dip, no eye-blink, and no tightening of her facial muscles. Even more terrifying was the fact that after three consecutive "misses," Claire showed absolutely zero frustration. There was no sigh, no adjustment of her grip, no questioning look at her sights—nothing.