Mathilda wonders whether she missed again and prepares for a new shot.
LEON:
Wait... The fat man softly leans down on his side.
LEON:
Bull's-eye.
Mathilda is happy but, evidently, she expected death to be more spectacular.
LEON:
Come on, now a walking one.
Mathilda aims at a businessman. She really chooses the ugliest one. She shoots. Man's case explodes and he hides
behind a tree:
he's scared and doesn't move any more.
LEON:
Good! First shot!
MATHILDA:
Yeah, but I didn't get him, I got his case and now he's behind the tree. What can I do?
LEON:
It's not serious, it's just training.
You have to learn from the beginning to hit the target, then, to improve precision, you'll train, but on cardboards.
MATHILDA:
OK.
LEON:
Now, try a running guy.
Mathilda gets back to telescope and looks for a jogger.
MATHILDA:
The yellow and pink.
LEON:
OK.
The guy is footing, sweaty, with a walkman and headphones.
Mathilda shoots once. Twice. Thrice. The bullets pass around the jogger, who can't see or hear anything.
MATHILDA:
Sh*t! It's hard when he runs!
Leon hands her another charger.
LEON:
Don't lose him! Concentrate. There, reload. OK, keep calm. Calm, breathe deeply. Look at his movements. Imagine you're running with him. Breathe... Hold your breathe... His movements... Now... She shots and the guy gets a bullet in a thigh. He's scared, but doesn't know where to go.
MATHILDA:
Did you see? First shot! It's good, isn't it? Did I learn well?