It turned out to be that a very rich daddy wanted to train his little boy in the skills of murder and all that went with it.
"First of all, – I said, when I arrived the next day in Brno at our big training center and saw this very student (a tall thin twenty-year-old guy with a "dirty" head, dressed in a nice expensive suit and holding an AKM over his shoulder; his eyes were empty, his brain, probably, too; in a word – a mediocrity) – I'm not going to teach you all the skills, you understand that right away. – I yawned – Secondly, the strength of a professional is not in his weapon, but in the ability to think quickly and correctly. – My voice rose sharply – So, put that thing on the floor!"
There was no one else in the room besides us, so even if he was a complete dimwit, could have realized I was saying that to him.
"Are you talking to me?" – he interjected. "Yes."
He threw the Kalashnikov with a tremendous crack about ten meters to his right. "Pick it up."
"You're giving it to me again?"
"Everything I'm about to say will be directed specifically to you, okay?" "Yes."
He raised the machine gun. "Put it down."
This time the AKM flew to the left and much farther away. "Pick it up."
After twenty attempts to understand that guns shouldn't be handled like that, I couldn't take it anymore: "Why don't you finally realize that you can't throw such things left and right!"
"Can only go back and forth or what?"
Now I understand why this job is worth 500,000,000 Euros in monetary terms. "He can't be thrown at all."
"I see."
"It has to be gently, affectionately, carefully placed." "I see."
"Demonstrate to me how it should be done."
He threw the object at his feet with such a dope that it messed up the floor. "And that's called putting it down?"
"He's lying…"
I moved closer, picked up the barrel and put it back down so quietly that I didn't even hear anything myself.
"That's the way it should be done." "I see."
He picked up the gun and tossed it back a little easier than last time, and I thought about the visible progress.
"Okay this exam you passed with a positive grade (I meant greater than zero), now let's see how you shoot… – I pointed to the leftmost target at the other end of the forty meter hall – Shoot."
He didn't get into any kind of stance, he just took the shot, one-handed. I was petrified: he hit the bull's-eye.