Training: Almost Impossible
Disclaimer: You know the drill. I own nothing but the fanfic nor do I claim to, so don't sue me!
Summary: The road to becoming official government agents isn't easy. Just ask Leon and Krauser. Prequel to Mission: Almost Impossible.
Chapter 1: Arrival
Leon smiled brightly as he approached the gates of the facility where his training would soon go underway. When that was done, he could become an agent for the President and get as much booze as he wanted. Or was that bartender school? It didn't matter.
"Who the hell are you?!" The guard standing at the gate shouted, waving his clipboard around wildly.
Leon, startled due to the sudden outburst and the fact the guy looked like he'd been pumping steroids since the tender age of five, replied meekly, "I'm Leon Kennedy."
"Hmm, Leon Kennedy..." The guard scanned his clipboard before saying, "Ah, yes, here you are."
"So I can go in?"
"After the cavity search. You know, so we know you're not a terrorist and junk."
Leon went pale. "Cavity search? W-Wha-What do my teeth have to do with anything? I-I hate dentists."
The guard chuckled evilly, pulling on a pair of latex gloves. "Oh, you'll see...Follow me."
The brunette groaned as he exited the small shack-like building, rubbing his posterior through his pants. "Cavity searches hurt..."
Another guard approached Leon, this one appearing much less intimidating than the other one. He gave Leon a brief smile and asked for his name.
"W-Why? Will I have to go through another cavity search?"
"What?" The guard looked confused. "What cavity search?"
"One of the other guards said cavity searches are performed on everyone to make sure they're not a terrorist!"
"We don't do cavity searches, dude."
Leon's jaw dropped, his eyes going to the size of plates.
"But anyways, follow me and I'll show you to your bunk."
Dry sobbing quietly, the recently-molested man followed the guard, hoping that he had just jumped the hardest hurdle and everything afterwards would be smooth sailing. He was led to a rather large single-story building labeled 24B. Upon first entering, Leon saw there was a bunk bed on one side of the room and another on the other.
"You're assigned here to bunk 24B." The guard said. "Your bunkmates will be here shortly. Wait here and I'll get your uniform. What size do you wear? Oh, never mind. You look like you're a small."
Leon growled as the guard left. Small? He'd show him small once training was complete. He'd be so buff that he could kick the ass of a Spanish cultist who had mutated into a weird creature with even weirder eyes.
Another guard came in, followed by an impressively buff blond man already wearing one of the regulatory trainee uniforms. The size of his muscles scared the shit out of Leon until he tripped over his laces and hit the floor face-first.
"God damn! Are you okay?" The guard asked as he helped the man up. He choked as he caught sight of the clear imprint of the man's face in the floor. "Holy shit, look at what you did to the floor!"
"Ugh..." The man grumbled, dazed.
"I'm gonna go see if I can find something to cover that up." He let go of the man and left, causing him to almost topple onto the floor had Leon not caught him.
"You okay?" Leon snickered. "Nice imprint in the floor. What's your name?"
"...Bob." The man mumbled.
"Your name is Bob?"
Suddenly snapped out of his daze, the blond said, "Who the hell is Bob? My name's Jack Krauser! But just call me Krauser."
"I'm Leon. Nice to meet ya." Leon helped Krauser over to the bunk on the right side of the room, easing him to sit on the bottom bunk before sitting next to him. "Do you have, um, steel implants in your face or something?"
Krauser shook his head. "Nah, shit like that happens all the time. One time when I was nine or something, I tripped at church and left an imprint in the bible and I knocked over a bowl of holy water and it burned me."
Wordlessly, the brunette scooted away from the blond a couple of inches.
"Another time, I broke some kid's leg during soccer cuz I fell and my face hit him in the knee."
"Krauser...you are a freak of nature."
"I'm not a freak of nature! Those are hippies. I'm just a freak."
"Eh..."
"Here, Kennedy." The first guard announced as he returned with a uniform. "Fresh uniform ready for wearing." He tossed it over to Leon. "There's gonna be a meeting in a few where the general will greet everyone and the drill sergeant will brief everyone over what's going to happen." He excused himself to leave.
Krauser cocked his head to the side, puzzled. "General? What?"
Leon shrugged. "Makes sense to me that there would be a general here since some of us are trying to become agents, others mercenaries, and God knows what else."
"Agents? Mercenaries? God damn it, I thought this was cooking class!"
The brunette's eyebrow arched up. "Cooking class? Are you serious? A freaking cooking class?"
"Yeah! I mean, God knows I'm shit in the kitchen. The only thing I can make without blowing up the microwave is cereal. Oddly, one time when I was getting myself a bowl, the microwave randomly exploded and I wasn't even using it."
"That's happened to you, too?" Leon asked, pleasantly surprised.
"Are you serious?! That's happened to you?!"
"Krauser," Leon slung his arm around the bigger man's shoulders. "I think this is the start of a beautiful friendship."
The touching moment was interrupted when the guard who led in Krauser came back with another man and a small rug. The guard was just about to warn the man of the face print in the floor when the man found out about it himself by stepping on it and tripping, nearly breaking his nose on the floor.
"Uh...watch out for the face print..." The guard reached down to move the man's legs so he could put the rug down.
"My face..." The man groaned as he rolled over on his back, rubbing his hand into his face. "Good. Nothing's broken."
"I'll...uh...I'll just go and get your uniform." He left again, leaving the man on the floor in obvious pain.
"Are you alright over there?" Leon asked.
"Dandy..." The man groaned.
"What's your name?"
"Call me HUNK."
"HUNK?" Krauser scoffed. "What kind of a name is HUNK?"
"It's short for Harold Urman Nicholas Kelly, okay?"
Both men sitting on the bed snickered at the final part of the first name, playfully pushing each other to get the other one to stop laughing, though it wasn't working. HUNK glared at them before picking himself up off the floor and went over to the other bunk-bed to sit down.
"So, what're you here for?" Leon questioned after the giggling and pushing ceased. "I'm here to be an agent." He pointed at Krauser. "He, um, thought this was a cooking class, so obviously he has no idea what he's doing here."
"I'm going to be a mercenary." HUNK laid back on the bed. "I'm good at not getting killed, so I'd be perfect at it."
"Good at not getting killed? How?" Krauser tilted his head to the side in curiosity.
HUNK sat up, looking rather pompous with himself and he said, "I got hit by an ice cream truck and lived. TWICE."
While Krauser looked completely shocked and awestruck, Leon looked confused. Getting hit by an ice cream truck wasn't a big deal. Those things barely cleared five mph and the only way someone could possibly even get hit by one would be to just stand in front of one and wait about ten hours for it to hit them.
The guard came back one final time, another man in tow wearing the trainee uniform. Either this man was really, really tan or he was of Hispanic origin.
"It's an illegal alien!" Krauser gasped, pointing at the new man.
Leon smacked the blond in the back of the head with his arm. "Krauser! That is so freaking racist!"
The guard's face fell. "H-How did you know I was- OH, you meant Carlos Oliviera here!" He laughed sheepishly. "Well, uh, here ya go!" He threw the uniform over to HUNK. The uniform, starched and pressed to the point of acting like a piece of cardboard, flew much like a frisbee and ended up hitting HUNK painfully in the face. The guard hastily made his leave, shutting the door behind him.
"My eye!" HUNK groaned, holding a hand to his eye. "God damn it, that hurt!"
"Good at not getting killed, eh?" Krauser snickered.
"Yeah, killed, not hurt!"
"Um..." Carlos looked between the three men unsurely. "So...what's going on?"
Leon shrugged. "We're just getting to know each other and trying not to get killed in the process.
"That's cool." Carlos made to step over to the bunk bed where HUNK sat. As his foot was about to step onto the rug that hid the depression of Krauser's face, Leon tried to warn him about it, but it was too late. He stepped on it and fell, resulting in a terrible nosebleed.
After everyone took care of their slight injuries, a guard came in a told them it was time for the meeting. They followed the guard over to the cafeteria, where hundreds of other men like them, sort of, were gathered around at tables. They sat themselves at a sparsely populated table and chatted amongst themselves before a gunshot was fired, scaring everyone senseless. Three people were even scared into a massive heart attack, though nobody really took notice of them.
"Gentlemen," The general began, lowering his gun. "Thank you all for being here this afternoon."
"Are you going to shoot us?!" Krauser cried from near the back, sounding terrified.
"If you don't shut up, I will! Now…I'll make this brief. You assholes are here to become agents and mercenaries and bodyguards and all that bullshit. Piss me off and you will NEVER see the light of day again. I am General Bob Faget."
"Your last name offends me!" Krauser barked, earning snickers from his three bunkmates.
"Get over it! Your training begins tomorrow, rookies!" The general chuckled darkly. "The next year of your life is going to be hell…You're all dismissed!"
The men returned to their living quarters, all whispering to each other how they weren't looking forward to the next year, or the next day even.
That evening after having a mediocre dinner of soup, the four rookies sat together in the middle of the floor, circling the small rug. A makeshift campfire - a bunch of flashlights taped together - sat on the rug and Krauser tried toasting a marshmallow over it. After a few minutes of trying to toast it, he got pissed and threw it, accidentally hitting HUNK in his eye.
"My EYE! Ugh!" HUNK rubbed at his sore eye, swearing profusely.
Leon clapped his hands. "People, people, PLEASE. We are TRYING to get to know each other here! Focus! Krauser, stop doing stupid stuff and HUNK, stop hurting your eye."
Once things had settled, things went underway.
"My name's Leon." The Kennedy man announced.
"Hi, Leon!" The other three replied.
"I come from Raccoon City and-"
"Oh, my God!" Carlos gasped. "I was there, too! I was one of the mercenaries!"
HUNK looked surprised. "Me, too! I never saw you, though."
Leon scrunched his face, confused. "Wait, hold up. HUNK, you said you were here to BE a mercenary. And you, Carlos, you said you're already a mercenary! What the hell?!"
"I wasn't an official mercenary." HUNK explained. "I mean, I didn't have my mercenary license. I'm here to get it."
"I got mine taken away." Carlos chuckled sheepishly. "I did some stupid stuff and got it revoked. I'm here to get it back."
Leon nodded. "That makes sense. I think..."
"I'm Krauser!" The scarred man suddenly spoke up, raising an arm in the air as if to get everyone's attention. "And I make face prints!" He grinned childishly.
"...Cool." Carlos cleared his throat. "I'm Carlos, man, and I love the ladies." He smirked. "They LOVE my accent."
"I'm HUNK and I-"
Snickering, Krauser asked, "What does HUNK stand for? I forgot."
HUNK growled. "No. Just...no. My name is HUNK and I-"
"Tell us!"
"No!"
"Freaking tell us!" To emphasize his point, Krauser tore one of the flashlights free and flung it at HUNK, once again accidentally smacking him square in the eye.
"Oh, God, my EYE!"
"Man, maybe you should wear goggles or something."
"Why, you-!" HUNK made a grab for Krauser but the blond scuttled backwards to avoid him.
"Okay!" Leon stood up. "Time for bed!"
The other three men agreed and scurried off to bed. Well, HUNK and Carlos did. Krauser began doing stretches on the floor as Leon peeled off his shirt and climbed into the lower bunk.
"Krauser, what the hell are you doing?" Leon inquired as he watched the elder man stretch.
"Getting ready." Krauser explained.
"Getting ready for WHAT?"
"For-" He made a mad dash for the bed, screaming, "BEEEEEEED!!!" as he ran. He leapt onto the top bunk, landing heavily on his back. The force from his landing caused the top bunk to come loose and land on top of Leon, crushing him. His screaming was muffled as he flailed whatever limbs were sticking out from between the two bunks. "…Oops. Sorry, pretty boy."
It certainly seems like the boys are in for a hell of a year. Please be sure to leave a review! :3