Monday
Sergeant Tom Jeffers stood just behind a chalk line and waited patiently for the signal. He did his best to ignore the simmering July heat, the trickle of sweat running down his back tracing perfectly his spine, the stare of Sergeant Hicks, the drill instructor running this particular exercise, and the cat calls and various comments made by the others behind him. He let his eyes focus on the an area about ten feet in front of him, it was a standard obstacle included in most, if not all, obstacle courses created since the beginning of time. Two-foot stakes had been driven into the ground to the point that only about 10 inches stuck up above the ground. There was about a dozen of these stakes running parallel to each other over the length of about ten feet. Connecting the tops of the stakes and criss-crossing over the gap was razor wire. He knew that the only way to clear this part of the course was to fall to his belly and pull himself through on his elbows in, what was commonly called, an Army Crawl.
He was so intently focused on the course that he almost missed the whistle that signaled the start of the timer.
He ran forward and dove for the opening of the Army Crawl. He pulled himself forward on his elbows, ignoring the rocks that dug into them. His mind was already on the next obstacle, a telephone pole that had been covered in axle grease and stretched over a five-foot drop into a mud pit.
When he knew his buttocks had cleared the razor wire, he jumped up to his feet and sprinted at the telephone pole. He had previously seen five different people attempt to cross this slicked pole, and he had a good idea as to how to do it. He placed one foot on one end of the pole and, instead of placing his other foot on the pole in front of the first; he crouched on the one foot and leapt for all he was worth. He managed to clear half the pit. As he landed, the part of his plan that he still was sure of, he positioned his feet as if he were strapped to a snowboard and spread his arms parallel to the pole for balance and slid the rest of the way across.
After his feet hit dirt, he dropped to one knee and quickly removed his combat boot; he switched knees and removed the other. Then he was back up and running in his socks.
He approached the next obstacle and leapt at the rope hanging from a crossbeam that had been set up over greenish water. As he swung, he climbed the rope until he reached the top. He pulled himself up to stand on the crossbeam and paused for a mere second to survey the rest of this particular obstacle. Several more cross beams stretched before him. He jumped from one to the other, like he was crossing a stream using stepping-stones. When he reached the end, he took a deep breath and jumped off in a classic swan dive, as he approached the ground he tucked into a ball and rotated his body. Before he impacted with the hard dirt, he extended himself and hit the ground running.
The next obstacle was a standard wall. Sitting astride the wall was another drill instructor whose sole purpose here was to help the soldiers over the wall if necessary. Tom ignored the open expression of surprise on the man's face as he grabbed the hanging rope, he pulled himself up by his arm strength alone until he stood on the wall he noticed that the end of the course was close. Again he jumped. This time it was more of a drop than a jump, but he had enough forward momentum that he was running as soon as his feet touched dirt.
He didn't stop running until he slapped a button mounted on a post. Immediately a gong sounded and the soldiers standing at around the finish line started whooping and hollering.
"Tom, that was fantastic." One said pounding him on the back. "That has got to be a base record."
Tom shrugged. "Maybe." He started to walk back along the course to where he had left his boots. While he walked he noticed that a man and a woman, that he didn't recognize, had joined Sergeant Hicks.
The man was about six feet tall; short cropped blonde hair wearing a tan button up shirt and green pants. The woman was about five and a half feet tall; long red hair pulled back into a ponytail and wearing a type of uniform that he did not recognize. It was a tan leotard type covering with gray sleeves and leggings, over her right collar bone, and extending up to the top of her shoulder was a patch of quilted red material, over each hand was a tan, throwing star adorned, glove that covered her forearms up to her elbow, and strapped to her right thigh was a combat knife.
He noticed that the three people, Sergeant Hicks included, kept looking from the stopwatch, up to him and back. He dismissed them from his mind as he sat and replaced his boots.
As he stood, he heard footsteps approaching. He turned and watched the man and woman walking toward him. He noticed the ranking insignia, snapped to attention and saluted.
"At ease, soldier." The man said.
Tom dropped to parade rest and stared at a point between the two people.
"What's your name, soldier?" The woman asked.
"Jeffers, Thomas J. Staff Sergeant."
"Well, Sergeant Jeffers." The man said. "The average time to complete this course is three minutes and fifty-five seconds."
"Yes, sir"
"You cleared it in a minute ten."
Tom swallowed a lump that had suddenly formed in his throat. "Thank you, sir."
"First things first." The man smiled. "Drop the 'sir' and call me Duke. This is Scarlett. We've been sent here to inspect the troops for possible recruitment into an elite squad of men and women." The man produced a clipboard and flipped through a couple of the pages. "And, Tom, you're not on my list of possible candidates."
Tom didn't know what to think, let alone say.
"How is it that a soldier of your caliber remained unnoticed among your peers on base?" Scarlett asked, a glint of suspicion in her eyes.
"I'll field that one." A gruff voice was heard from behind Tom. Tom spun and snapped to attention again.
"General Faircliff." Duke said.
"Hello, Duke." Faircliff shook the blonde man's hand. "Scarlett, so good to see you again." He took both of Scarlett's hands and kissed her on the cheek.
"General, it has been way to long."
"The reason that Tom is not on your list, Duke, is that he's been bounced from one assignment to another." The general explained. "Come, let's step into my office and get out of this heat." The three old friends started to walk away and Tom turned to return to his place at the finish line. "Coming, Tom?"
Tom smartly spun on his heel and fell in behind the trio as they made their way across the base.
After they were securely confined to the general's office, Faircliff continued.
"Tom's a bit of a black sheep." Faircliff sat behind the desk and indicated the two chairs facing his. Duke took one and Scarlett the other, Tom settled in against the wall by the door and stood at parade rest. Faircliff pulled a manila folder out a drawer and slid it across to Duke. "He simply refuses to do things in the accepted manner. This, honestly, is his last stop. If we can't whip him into shape, his going to be dismissed."
Scarlett glanced over at Tom and registered his blank stare. "Is this something that should be discussed in front of him?" She asked.
"Tom knows this. Don't you, Tom?"
"Yes, sir."
"Tom, there's several commendations on record here, and just as many disciplinary reports." Duke commented. "Can you explain those?"
"Permission to speak freely?" Tom asked the general.
"Of course."
"Duke, people don't take to kindly to the way I do things. Several occasions I've had to defend myself to those whose toes got stepped on and whose pride I've wounded."
"Typical macho response." Scarlett sighed.
"Begging your pardon, ma'am," Tom said. "But half of those reports concern defending myself against women. Pride is not solely the property of men."
Scarlett felt her jaw drop. "You don't pull punches, do you, Tom?"
He shrugged. "Never saw reason to."
Duke nodded. "Personally, I think you'd fit in with my team, but you would still have to follow orders. Is that a problem?"
"Of course not, sir. I am a soldier after all."
Duke closed the folder and placed it on the desk. "General, I'd like to request a transfer order for Tom into my team."
General Faircliff sighed. "I don't know, Duke. Tom's an excellent soldier, of that there's no doubt, but he can be a handful."
"Not unlike myself when I was under your command."
Faircliff chuckled. "True enough." He picked up his desk phone and dialed a number. "Sarah, push through a transfer order for one Jeffers, Thomas J." He hung up the phone. "You'll have him by week's end."
Duke and Scarlett both stood and saluted the general. "Thank you, General."
Tom saluted the three officers and opened the door to allow Duke and Scarlett to exit first. As he prepared to follow them, Faircliff called him back.
"Stay for a minute, Tom, and close the door."
Tom closed the door and turned to face the general.
"C'mon, Tom, sit down. You know we don't stand on ceremony between the two of us."
Tom slipped into a chair. "Who are they, General?" Tom asked.
Faircliff took a deep breath. "I'm afraid I can't go into too much detail, Tom. Suffice it to say that the team they belong to is almost impossible to join and even harder to quit."
"So, I should be impressed that they want me after watching me run an obstacle course?"
"Absolutely." Faircliff smiled. "Speaking of that, Hicks is not pleased about your time."
"I take it that he's the base's top gun?"
"Used to be. I'd expect some hard core PT from him before you're out of here."
"PT I can handle, but if he oversteps his bounds, I'll knock him on his ass."
"Now, Tom, don't let your temper interfere with your transfer orders."
"Are you saying that if I kick the shit out of Hicks, I'll not get transferred?"
"No." Faircliff measured his words carefully. "All I'm saying is make sure that it's self defense with plenty of witnesses."
"Understood, sir."
"You're dismissed."
Tom stood and saluted. As he turned to the door, a thought occurred to him. "Sir, there's a war game scheduled for Saturday between Alpha and Gamma squads."
"And you'd like to participate?"
"Well, I feel that Gamma's only chance to actually win is if I'm there."
Faircliff knew enough about this man to know that he was not bragging or being overconfident.
He nodded. "Consider yourself there. This will give Duke and Scarlett a chance to observe you in action."
"Not something I had considered, but yes, sir."