Disclaimer: I do not own anything even slightly related to Hellsing (although a few of my friends are vampires).
"Okay, let's see what you got." Walter said for the hundred-billionth time. It had come to the point where Hellsing's butler had lost all track of time, and the only thing that gave the slightest idea that it was night was that he had seen the lights from the Headquarter's training room come on. Obviously the sunlight had faded away a long time ago. He had been awake for almost two days straight, and the lost sleep was beginning to wear him out. Today had ended the last day of the Hellsing Organization's recruit search. So far, not one single candidate had made the grade and had been transferred from the London Royal Police Force to Hellsing.
So it struck Walter as quite odd, after all the candidates had came and left, and Alucard and Seras had begun another night of work, that someone had shown up at the front doors of the Hellsing mansion. He was let inside the lobby, escorted by one of the guards that kept watch during the night. Walter had been about to go to sleep himself when the stranger had appeared at the door. He had not been happy about the unexpected arrival, but he also knew that Sir Integral would be very unhappy if she had found out in the morning that no one had been recruited. So Walter yielded the benefit of the doubt and let the man in for a quick trial.
And now the two men were at the indoor shooting range. The stranger was almost as tall as Walter, with a shaved head, dark green eyes, and a slightly crooked smile. Walter guessed the man to be in his mid twenties. He was thin as a board, and was dressed almost as if he had walked right off the streets. The man had told the butler that he wasn't from the police, and that his name was Sal. Other than that, Walter knew nothing of this man, including his credentials or abilities.
As was the routine, Walter pulled out a large suitcase with s few choice guns that each candidate would choose to use against the targets. One was a small, black pistol. The second gun was a revolver, larger than the pistol, inlaid with a carving of the Hellsing crest. The third gun was a compact uzi, with a collapsible metal stock. Walter had pulled out this suitcase many times that day. He looked to Sal, saying "Please choose one of these weapons to use in this trial."
"If you don't mind, I'd like to use my own."
Walter was astonished. Why didn't that damned guard use a metal detector before he let this man in! He would have a talk with the lazy night guard after he was sure this Sal was off the premises.
"I'm sorry Mr. …Sal, but I can't allow you to use your own weapon for this trial. You must use one of these. He motioned for the stranger to pick one of the guns.
Sal hesitated for a moment, than decided to use the uzi. He held it in his left hand judging the weight of the gun. Walter replied, "You're the first candidate to choose that gun. Everyone else chose the pistol, and a few picked the revolver." The stranger said nothing, but stepped up to one of the firing alleys, and pressed a button, sending the paper target flying towards the back of the room. He took the machine gun in both hands, holding it straight out in front of him. He set the gun to the burst fire mode, and squeezed off a few rounds into the target. The sound of the uzi's reports echoed through the range. Again and again the man fired, the rounds flying three by three into the target at the end of the room.
After a minute or so, Walter gave the order to stop shooting. Sal lowered the gun, relaxing a bit as his arms came back to his sides. "Well now, let's see how you did. I'll judge you on your accuracy at head shots and shots to the heart, as well as your precision. I hope you were aiming at them." Walter deliberately left out his usual spiel about how the candidates would be graded. Frankly, he was sick and tired of the whole recruitment ordeal, and just wanted this last guy out of the headquarters.
The stranger pressed the button again, and the target came flying back to the front of the firing range. As it neared, Walter looked over it to make his grade. He didn't see ANY shots that made it anywhere near the head or the heart. Just as I thought, another young gun with a big head. He won't even need me to tell him he didn't make it. The target was just as it had started out as…no, Walter thought, something's changed about it…
The target reached the front of the range and stopped. And then Walter realized what had happened. The stranger had hit the target after all.
Walter scanned up and down, following the outline that the stranger had made with the uzi's bullets around the target. The outline was exactly the same as it had looked before the bullets found their marks, EXACTLY. In fact, Walter couldn't find a single bullet hole out of place.
"Magnificent…", was all Walter could find to say, he was so astonished at this stranger's work. A mere man, living on the streets, was one of the greatest marksmen that the butler had ever seen in all his years.
"So, am I qualified to join the Hellsing Organization?" The stranger asked Walter.
"Of course you can, Mr. …" Walter still marveled at the target cut out. He noticed a tiny spot at the top of the target's head that was still intact. It was the only thing holding the inner target to the outer one.
The stranger replied, "It's Sal. Just Sal." He raised the uzi back up in his right hand, and squeezed off another three-round burst. The bullets hit the target in the very top of the head, cutting out the last of the human profile from the blank outer surface. The cut out fell to the range's floor, leaving the outer profile hanging from it's hook.