taskforce
PAINTBALL
GAMES

You're crouched inside a wooden hut, squeezed into a corner breathing to minimize yourself as a target. All is silent, save for the sound of your own breathing - a sound you've perhaps never been aware of. You hear yourself swallow as your stomach twists itself into another knot. Your senses are heightened like never before and you hear other noises, a whisper, the slightest of rustles, the cracking of a twig. Your palms are moist and clammy as the comforting grip of the butt of your carbine tightens. Your throat constricts. Another surge of adrenaline courses through your veins. Your eyes stare, searching the undergrowth. It's still, then suddenly trembles. A menacing masked face stares back. You're hypnotized in its glare.

 

BLAM! The shot whines past your ear and snaps you out of your trance.
The butt of your carbine fits snugly into your shoulder as you draw a bead on your
assailant WHAM! You squeeze off a round of return fire. You miss, but only just. You've unnerved him and he breaks for cover, diving to his left. For a split second he's fully exposed, but you're ready. BLAM! There is a satisfying thwack and an explosion of vivid color as your shot finds its target. All around mayhem has broken out. Yells, whoops and shrieks fill the air. A deafening bang, followed by plumes of thick red smoke.

Shots crack and whistle all about. This is not an excerpt from a war correspondent, but describes a typical few minutes at our Cowbridge
Paintball site just west of Cardiff.

TASKFORCE
THE ULTIMATE PAINTBALL THRILL