Mower County Deputy Evan Sorenson, assault rifle in hand, pushed through the Mower County Jail and Justice Center, hunting for targets.

His pace alternated from a quick walk to a sprint, taking him with me in tow through the building in a short amount of time. In this scenario, however, Sorenson was the bad guy.

Sorenson was the attacker in an active shooter training drill conducted with the Mower County Sheriff’s Department, Austin Police Department and some surrounding small town agencies. As law enforcement advanced through the building, going door to door, hall by hall, it became quickly apparent just how deadly a situation like this can be.

On the heals of the mass shooting in Orlando and continued debate over gun control, Thursday’s drill served as a reminder of what law enforcement has to deal with during each situation.

Sorenson’s gun was filled with blanks, doing nothing more then imitating the sound of gunfire, but in a lot of cases it was enough. Employees of the Jail and Justice Center taking part in the drill never knew which way Sorenson would go and reacted as one might in a real situation.

It’s easy to talk about what one might do in that situation or should do, but even during the simulation — even as an observer from the press — it became increasingly clear how powerless people could feel had Sorenson been an actual shooter.

People swore, startled as he would check each door, looking for “victims.” At one point employees screamed as we walked into one room and employees ran for the door.

It was startling what the simple sound of a gun does, even if there are no real bullets and their aftermath.

But even more startling was how fast Sorenson moved through the building before law enforcement was able to confront him. In each of his three runs through the building, Sorenson was able to fire off anywhere from 10 to 20 shots — and that was in an empty building. It doesn’t account for other people who visit the Jail and Justice Center either for court or other business who would only add to the casualty numbers and make containing the situation that much more difficult.

It was hectic following Sorenson through the building as he navigated the hallways, as he often broke into a sprint, forcing me to do the same just to catch up. It was astounding how much ground he could cover in just a two to five minute span. It really punctuated just how dangerous it potentially could have been.

The second thing that really stood out was just what law enforcement faces. Yes, it’s easy to follow the reconstruction after the event, watch the helicopter views as paniced people rush the streets, but until I took part in this, it’s hard to really work through the situation itself.

Those same hallways that Sorenson was running through forced law enforcement into harsh angles and funneled “kill zones.” In one instance, Sorenson emerged through a door only to find two deputies caught off guard, clearly surprised. The report was, “officer down,” two of the most haunting words in law enforcement.

Often times Sorenson seemed to have the advantage. All he was doing was moving room to room shooting indiscriminately as we went, while officers had to check each door, each hallway, each corner. It was time-consuming and frantic. Meanwhile, spent cartridges lay along the floor as reminders of what could have been.

Thursday afternoon was an eye-opener in terms of what could happen and what law enforcement needs to do in real-life circumstances. Having a healthy respect for what these people do is paramount. I know this wasn’t a real situation and I have yet to — and if I’m lucky, I will never have to — cover this kind of news, but it was enough to drive home the reality in which we live these days.

It was only a few minutes, but it was clear it could have been an eternity.