Yes, I'm back in America. And writing. If you have forgotten me after my yearlong sabbatical, or never read my stories in the first place, I've been writing a series (once a trilogy, but now, with a fourth installment) of Auggie stories before Annie, among other things. I started with "Close and Continuing", about Auggie's relationship with Natasha, and built backwards from there. This is the newest story, but it falls into place before "Shaken Not Stirred", around late 2002. This is not yet completed, but I've been making good headway; I'm now into chapter four. I'd like to thank mandy58 for encouraging me to keep developing Pre-Auggie. In honor of her new job, I give you all: "From the Frying Pan".
Chapter One: Orientation
For the tenth time in fewer minutes, August Anderson pushed up his obnoxiously large glasses to rest on the bridge of his nose. A second later, they slid back down, and Auggie—as he preferred to be called—mentally cursed himself yet again for not plucking up the nerve to go to the optometrist so that he could get more contacts. Apparently when you've missed your yearly check-up for two years running, they hold the lens prescription hostage, no matter how many times you explain that your eyes are just fine. So unless he wanted to squint at the PowerPoint presentations and his future instructors all day, Auggie was stuck wearing his emergency glasses, which he hadn't worn since his first day of high school after a jock called him a bug. It had taken being the first freshman on the varsity wrestling team to get rid of the nickname, but in the foggy moments of post-wake up-pre-coffee, Auggie'd managed to convince himself that his fellow SPIs wouldn't be as cruel. But after three solid hours of them slipping down his nose and not a few smirks aimed his way, his conviction was quickly on its way to collapsing.
Auggie surrendered his battle for the moment and shifted in his seat, keeping his eyes on the screen and the current PowerPoint in an attempt to stay awake. This particular presentation was even more boring than the first, which was saying something. Auggie dragged his wandering mind back to the present and forced himself to listen to the presenter.
"…Remember the number one rule: loyalty to the Company is above all else. Keeping your country and her citizens safe is your primary objective. Thank you."
The audience clapped heartily—more out of relief that it was over than anything else—Auggie thought. Two hours was more than too long to listen to the rules and why secrecy was so important. Especially as everyone had already signed the thousand or so non-disclosure contracts. After all that, if they didn't know that working for CIA would require lying, two hours listening to a monotone suit wasn't going to help them.
"Cadets!"
Auggie jumped in his seat and his glasses slid down another centimeter. The bellow had erupted from the latest speaker, a short, unassuming man whose gravelly voice did not at all fit his stature. Auggie could feel the authority rolling off the little man, and instantly respected him, despite the shivers traversing his spine.
"You lot are the first trainees in five years. You number a grand hundred and fifty-six, but by the end of this year, only a third of you will have shown you have the GUTS and the SMARTS to be a spy for the great Untied States of America. In case you weren't listening to the people before me"—Auggie shifted in his seat—"this isn't a film you've signed up for. There will be sweat. There will be pain. There will be blood. And maybe for some unlucky bastards, there will be death."
The man's face had gone even graver than it had started as, if that was possible. He let his words echo through the auditorium, daring someone, anyone, to laugh. No one did.
"The battles start tomorrow at oh five hundred. If you feel like you've bitten off more than you can chew at the end of this week, you can leave. After that, I decide if you're fit. You stay until I tell you to go. And when I tell you to go, you will be gone within the hour. No exceptions."
This time when the presenter stepped off the stage, no one clapped. The whole room was loud only in its silence. Auggie had no doubts in his decision to be an agent, but he still found himself gulping involuntarily.
oooOOOOOOoooo
When Auggie had dropped his stuff off in the room that might very well be his for the next ten months, his future roommate hadn't arrived yet. Auggie'd hoped that he'd never show, but lady luck wasn't on his side. A moment before he reached for the door handle to open the door, it swung open to reveal the Hulk.
The giant muscle-man held out his hand. "Drew Wellington. Guess you're my roomie?"
At a little more than six feet and a just under one hundred and sixty pounds, Auggie suddenly felt entirely too small next to this clothed mountain. He shook Drew's hand, praying he didn't see just how small his hand looked wrapped around his new roommate's sausage-like fingers. "August Anderson."
"Nice to meet you, Aug," Drew replied cordially.
"In fact, I prefer Auggie," Auggie tried to say, but Drew was already on another topic. He made the split-second decision to let it go and hoped he wouldn't regret it.
"I saw you took the left bunk. S'okay. Ex-marine. I could sleep on a log and I'd be good. Actually, I think I did sleep in a tree once. Sniper, ya know. Yeah, bet I know what you're thinkin'. What's a big guy like me doin' as a snipe? Well, I'll tell ya; I'm a crack-shot. Ever since I was littl' an' ma pa and me went huntin' in the Ozarks. Ya know the Ozarks? Where ya from, anyway? I'm from Oklahoma, the border, actually. Ma pa worked as a logger there in the Ozarks. Arkansas, mostly, and I went ta school in Texas, but our home was in Oklahoma."
Drew finally paused for a breath and Auggie took the opportunity to speak.
"I'm from Illinois."
"Ya been there your whole life?" Drew replied. He'd put his single duffle bag on his bed and had begun unpacking. "Wish I'd traveled more. That's why I joined up. Thought I'd be a marine for life 'til ma CO convinced me. Made me realize I'd rather prevent than react, 'specially after September. But ma pa always said ya only do things for one reason, pride. Either ya want it, or ya just got it. Which one're ya?"
Auggie, who'd stopped listening somewhere after "traveled more", looked up from hanging his suit in the closet. "Sorry, what?"
"Why're ya here?" Drew didn't seem fazed by Auggie's clear lack of attention. Judging from the way he sped through his sentences, Auggie would hazard a guess that inattentiveness in his audience was a trait Drew had come to expect.
"My advisor in college recruited me. Not many computer programmers are their world champions wrestling team's MVP two years running, apparently."
"That's awesome man, but ya didn't answer my question. Why ya here?"
Auggie seized up for a second. He really didn't want to answer that question. It was more personal than he felt comfortable with, even if he already felt more trusting than usual toward his chatty roomie. "You ask a lot of questions, you know," Auggie deflected.
Drew smiled, clearly either ignoring Auggie's avoidance or not seeing it at all. "Yeah, I know. Ma pa used to say the only time I'm quiet is when I'm alone, and even then, it's touch-n-go. I'm just curious, ya know. Don't mean nothing by it." For the first time, he lost a little of the happy glint in his eyes. "If I'm talkin' too much, just throw a pillow at me or something. Tha's what ma bros used to do back in the Corps."
Auggie shut the last drawer and turned around to face his now slightly less cheery roommate, feeling a surprising stab of guilt in his gut. "S'okay. One of my roommates was a heavy metal rocker. I can just about block out anything after a year of that."
Drew smiled again. "Thanks, Aug. Hey, ya finished?" Auggie looked around for something else to do, and finding nothing urgent, shrugged. "Me too. I know they said dinner starts at nineteen hundred, but if it's anything like boot camp, the first meal's the best. If we want the good stuff, we should probably leave now."
"Yeah, good idea." Auggie pushed his glasses up again and motioned for Drew to lead the way.