They moved like a single organism, a "flow-and-go" rhythm that minimized their exposure. But as they approached the threshold of the second room—a narrow hallway—the instructor’s voice crackled over the loudspeakers: "Contact front!"
They reached the final room—the objective. Kael threw a flashbang trainer. Bang. The team surged in during the white noise. They carved the corners, overlapping their fields of fire so no inch of the room was unobserved.
They reset at the start line. In the world of close quarters, "good enough" was a liability.
Kael didn’t kick the door; he turned the handle with surgical precision and shoved. Jax, the "Point Man," flooded the room first. He didn't look center—he snapped his muzzle to the left corner, the "near-deep" threat. Elias followed a split second later, crossing Jax’s path to sweep the right corner. "Clear left!" Jax barked."Clear right!" Elias echoed.
A silhouette target popped up at the end of the hall. Jax dropped to a knee to shrink his profile, delivering two controlled "thumps" from his training carbine.