THIRTY MINUTES LATER saw them sipping glasses of wine after they were done with the food. Segun had ordered Sesame chicken, his friend Almond chicken, while Clyde had a helping of crab rangoon.
“So, what kind of shooting range are you training at?”
Chuks gave him a run-down of their training schedule for the past six months, from the handguns, to the millitary-grade rifles, and that which they had practiced only the previous day, the anti-tanks.
“That's one top-notch range you attend, you know. I don't even need to ask how much you paid to get in.”
Chuks laughed.
“If you want to know how much we paid, we paid quite a fortune, and that's because our parents can afford it. I signed up online and my parents paid our fees at once. I told him,” he nodded slightly towards Segun whose eyes w
