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Gun fire was erupting from the firing range just on the edge of the city. This indoor arena sported 15 stations, at which there was one man firing the M39 Rifle at targets down range. This was Darnell Hunt, participating in his favorite past time; exercising the second amendment.

"Hey Darnell!" His friend called. "Is that the new M39 Rifle?"

"Sure is, Brian." He said. Brian Longstreet is an avid hunter who met Darnell a few years ago at a National Rifle Association convention in upstate New York. They started to talk about their favorite weapons and that led them to a local pool hall where they forged their friendship over a game of pool. "Wanna fire it?" Darnell asked.

"Hell yeah, mate!" He took the gun and looked down the sights. "Nice light weight. Set you back much?"

"Yeah, try over four grand. But it's worth every pretty penny. Go ahead! Try it!" Darnell insisted.

Brian lifted the rifle and aimed down range. He spotted some targets and fired. "It's got nice recoil." He flipped the safety on and gave it back to Darnell. "That's a great find!"

"Isn't it though? It's one of my favorite guns. Best part is it doesn't jam as much as older guns do." Darnell said matter-of-factly.

"Well put your money where your mouth is Darnell. See if it can out perform a true classic." And with that, Brian pulled out his M16. He assembled it and looked at Darnell. "Up for some sport?" he said as he raised his eyebrow.

"You're on!" He slapped down 50 dollars, as did Brian. They took their positions as they prepared to show off. The range was being prepared for the show that was about to start.

"Everyone, clear the range! Weapons free!" The owner of the range yelled through a megaphone. "Gentlemen, you may signal when you are ready!"

"Ready!" Darnell yelled.

"Ready!" Brian yelled.

"And...3...2...1... Fire!" Targets popped up down range and were sent back down as soon as they appeared. Furious gunfire, loud bangs, and spent shells filled the range as fellow enthusiasts looked on. Each participant was hitting their target with deadly precision, eventually ending in a stalemate.

Bullet riddled targets littered the battlefield as each man lowered their weapon. "You both shot the same number of targets." The owner yelled. "We shall end this with a quick draw competition. Take a rest while we set it up." They sat their weapons down and sat on a nearby bench.

"I'm gonna get you this time Darnell!" Brian said.

"Not a chance you British bastard." Darnell smiled. The range workers were setting up the final showdown as the guys recuperated. The owner of the range approached them.

"Alright gentlemen. This will be a quick-draw competition. You will use these pistols to knock the target down when it appears. The first to do so, wins."

"Sounds fair." Darnell said. "Are you set up?"

"Yes sir, Mr. Hunt."

Each man took a pistol and stood at their station. They looked down range with 1000 yard stares. To the victor went bragging rights. To the loser, they owed a round of beers afterwards.

"Shooters, are you ready?" The owner called out. They both nodded. They stood, eagerly awaiting their shot. Their hearts quickened and their fingers got jittery. Their focus could not be broken. This was for all the marbles.

Just then, the targets popped out. Each man whipped their pistol out and fired a single round. The targets fell as they stood, still aiming down range. "Well, who won?" A random patron yelled.

"Let me slow the tape down." The owner yelled. He sat in silence as he looked at the footage of the targets falling. "Alright, I've got my verdict. I'll be right down." He left his booth and approached Darnell and Brian.

"Well?" Brian asked.

The owner delayed himself. "Darnell's target fell .011 seconds faster. Darnell wins!" Applause flooded the range as Darnell bowed to the crowd. As it died down, one lone man was left clapping.

"Bravo, Mr. Hunt. That was some impressive shooting. But maybe you would be interested in a real challenge. Interested?" He asked.

Darnell thought about it. "Hmm. It's an interesting challenge. I accept your challenge! But not today, because tonight the drinks are on this guy!" He said, pointing to Brian.

"Don't remind me, mate." Brian groaned.

"Then it's settled." The stranger said. "How's 2:30 PM tomorrow for you?"

Darnell extended his hand and they shook on it. "Agreed! I'll see you tomorrow." He said.

Later that evening, Brian and Darnell arrived at the bar and sat down. "Two Millers, please!" Darnell yelled. Just then two bottles of beer slid down the bar into their hands. They drank from their bottles and sat, focused on the bar.

"Think you can beat that yuppie?" Brian asked.

Darnell took another swig of beer. "Hey, this is me we're talking about. I can take him easy."

"Well go easy on the drinking if you want to stay focused."

"Hey, you're just saying that because you're paying for my beers you sore loser."

"No Darnell," Brian said. "I just want you focused for tomorrow is all; if you pound the beers, you're as much use as the Maginot Line was to France."

"Oh fuck off man. Let me have some fun. Let me have another barkeep!" And then another beer came sliding down the table.

The next morning at the range, Darnell showed up a little hung over. "You think you're gonna be okay, mate?" Brian asked.

"I'll be fine. Just watch out for stray bullets!" Darnell laughed. A gun went off and Darnell grabbed his head. "Ah shit! That hurts my head!"

"Lemme get you some earplugs." Brian offered. He got some from his pocket and handed them to Darnell, who proceeded to put them in his ears. "Is that better?"

"Not by much but it helps. So where is this guy anyway? Did he chicken out?" Darnell asked. Just then, a loud slam rang from behind them, making Darnell wince in pain.

"Not by a long shot." The man who challenged him yesterday said. He had a case beside him and he opened it. It was a platinum plated M39. "Speaking of long shots, care to do some precision shots for our challenge?"

"You're speaking my tongue now stranger." Darnell grabbed his M39 and approached the range. "What's your game?"

"I've instructed the operator to set an electronic spring target down range. It is very small and will appear very quickly. I have supplied you with special ammo which will emit a signal when it strikes. The first to shoot it wins. Now take your position." The stranger said. Both men approached their station and stood at the ready.

"Live weapons! All bystanders clear the area!" The operator yelled. Everyone left the two men ready to fire.

Their focus was intense and unbreakable. But even though the target would surprise them, they were in a zone. Their hands were steady and their gazes were unblinking.

It was eerily quiet. No one dared breathe. No one dared move.

Just then the target sprang up. Without hesitation, they both fired their guns once.

They stood there, looking down range. Neither one moved.

"I have the results." The operator said. He looked at the monitor. "Mr. Hunt shot the target .0001 seconds faster! Darnell wins again!" The crowd erupted in yelling for the victor. The defeated man looked at him.

"Well do I get some respect?" Darnell asked.

"You do." The challenger asked. "And then some." He approached him and slipped a card into Darnell's hand. "Call us if you want to save the world." And with that he took his gun and left.

Back at the bar, Darnell looked at the card. "What do you think? Is he a crazy tit or what?" Brian asked.

"I don't know." Darnell said. "But I guess it's worth a shot. I've always wanted to save the world!" Darnell grinned. He dialed the number on his cell phone. "Hey this is Darnell. You've got yourself a deal. I'll meet you where you specified." He then drank his beer.