Chapter 3- The Mysterious Figure Named Mouse
As the title states, we're finally meeting Mouse! We aren't told how, where, or when Jay and Mouse first met so this is just a fun imagination of what could've possibly happened. I hope you enjoy!
The second leg of boot camp was scheduled to be the shortest of the three stages. During this point in time, it was highly likely that candidates would be deployed to Afghanistan or Iraq and there was a good chance they'd spend time in the mountains. The north Georgia mountains served as the closest comparison to the rocky, shallow, slippery shale terrain in the Middle East. Being a city kid, prior to boot camp, Jay had never repelled or even strapped himself into a harness. The closest he got was climbing a rock wall at a friend's birthday party when he was ten, but that was minuscule compared to what faced him. Similar to parachuting, the remaining candidates gathered at the base of a mountain and watched the instructors properly get secured in their harness and clip themselves into spots on the rock. They instructed them on the proper and improper methods before turning the reigns over to the kids. They started easy with the instructor spotting for the candidates. Jay felt his legs shaking for the first few climbs, but just kept going. He kept reminding himself that this was the easy part and someone had already gone ahead of him to secure the path. From this point forward, that element of safety and security would be entirely up to him. It took about a day for him to get comfortable with the footing and arm extensions. It was a zen like experience. His mentality transitioned from trying to not fall to truly feeling the rock, finding those natural grooves and slots that'll propel you to the next spot. Furthermore, it was an amazing workout and his still sore ankle appreciated not having to hold him up all day. Once they all learned how to get up, it was time to figure out how to get back down.
The instructors told them to take a step back and slowly let their lead down. They were all standing at the edge of the cliff and their survival rested on the clip holding them on the side of the mountain and how well they repelled down. This took a traditional trust/fail test to a whole other level. No longer were you putting your life into your hands or someone else's, but a contraption and a rock instead. Jay found himself hesitating for a couple of seconds, trying to think of some logical, realistic reason to be excused from the exercise. But alas, nothing came to mind so it was jump or be sent home. His body screamed in resistance for a few milliseconds before the side of the rock made contact with Jay's booted feet. From there, it was second nature: doing the opposite of what he'd already learned. In no time, Jay was enjoying that falling and catching sensation and eventually found a way to quicken his repelling pace. However, the most exciting and interesting part of this leg of boot camp were the stories pertaining to a mysterious person. Rumors were trickling through camp of a super skilled, excellent marksman among their ranks. Some said he was a second timer, making it to the final round of camp before being dishonorable released for personal reasons. Then there was the theory that he was a former Navy Seal who decided to transfer to Rangers camp after a year of service. Regardless of the story, there was a commonality amongst them all: the nickname Mouse. This fictitious person was silent but deadly. You could hear him moving about and see his handiwork. But if you ever get a chance to actually see him, then the damage was beyond repair. It was on the final night of the north Georgia section that Jay finally began inquiring into this Mouse character.
It was late at night and Jay found himself in a tent with two other people: Rev and New York. Dave 'New York' Banks earned his nickname because, as one could guess, hailed from the Empire State. Dave was a Bronx native who was every bit the stereotype. He had the thick, New York accent and was a diehard Jets fan. Every Sunday, he'd verbally smack himself for choosing to attend boot camp during football season. He could tell you the best pizza, deli, and hot dog stop in the city and couldn't be convinced otherwise. Jay loved to lovingly talk smack about New York and Dave returned the favor with Chicago. Tonight though, the conversation they fell asleep to was about Mouse.
"Has anyone thought that maybe this Mouse guy is a ploy from the drill sergeants to make us strive to worker harder," Jay asked? New York groaned as he rolled over.
"Ugh. Don't even throw that out there. It's hard enough keeping the theories together." Jay laughed as Rev sat up in bed.
"I've seen him." That made the other twos ear's perk up.
"Really," they responded in unison?!
"Yeah. He was at the shooting range after drills one day and I snuck in there to watch. He's on a different rotation from us so that's why we haven't ever seen him. He's not the bulky, Captain America stature that people are saying. He's just a normal looking guy who can aim and shoot really well."
"I want to see him," Jay responded. New York shrugged his shoulders.
"Not sure when that'll happen if we're on different training schedules." Rev's face lit up after a moment.
"When we get back. We have those couple of days before heading out to Arizona for the final test. Everything's open for training and there won't be any scheduling." Jay nodded, already formulating the plan. He wanted to compete with this guy in his wheelhouse. Everyone talked about how skilled of a shooter Mouse was and Jay wanted to get that first-hand experience with him. Jay wasn't a shooting legend, but he was getting close. Especially for someone who hadn't ever picked up a rifle before a few months ago. The other two occupants in the tent noticed the wheels churning in Jay's mind and smirked.
"What's the game plan," Rev interrupted?
"Shooting range when we get back. Let's see how good this guy is." Jay received collective nods and excited faces.
"Yes, definitely yes." Jay couldn't help but feel like Seabiscuit calling for a match race against War Admiral. As he drifted off to sleep, he couldn't see a non-winning scenario playing out.
…
They were correct about Mouse's appearance. He wasn't bulky and tall but rather, a lean, normal looking guy. Perhaps that's what made him deadly; he was your average guy until you got him behind the scope of a gun. It had been a week since Jay concocted his plan to 'run into' this freaky good candidate. The remaining members of boot camp shipped back down to Fort Benning six days ago and required a plane smaller than the one they took up. Their final pass/fail in the mountains of north Georgia required them to climb the side of a mountain, set up base camp on the side of the mountain, remain awake and alert the entire night before repelling down before sunrise the following morning. What the instructors didn't tell candidates was that 'enemy contact' would happen at random times during the night and candidates had to handle the situation quickly and stealthily. Everything from taking out an enemy combatant across the valley to tackling and securing a hostage without alerting the others, the goal was to stay alive and be constantly on guard while handling the mountainous terrain. Naturally, Jay and about eighty-five percent of the others passed with flying colors. Jay doesn't remember much about the flight back south because he was too busy sleeping for the first time in over thirty-six hours. But regardless, he loved that he pushed himself and came away victorious.
And now, as he stood in the gun safe preparing his rifle for battle—while listening to Mouse masterfully nail his targets—this newfound surge of confidence and determination flooded him. He scooped up his gear and selected the station right next to Mouse. Without breaking his routine, Mouse grunted a greeting and nodded at his neighbor. Jay returned with a verbal greeting before positioning himself and aligning his scope with the targets in the field. He held his finger on the safety until Mouse fired at his target. It was a perfect dead center hit. Jay released the safety and quickly fired at his target, landing in the center but close to center point. Mouse looked up from his rifle and smirked. The game was on. Mouse perfectly hit another target before waiting for Jay to do the same, which he did successfully. They then moved to smaller targets that were further away. Mouse went first, Jay followed behind, keeping right on pace with Mouse. From there it was moving targets and each kept up with the others. By now, a small crowd gathered in the viewing box behind Jay and Mouse and they couldn't contain their small talk. It was like watching a tennis match: Mouse would serve and Jay would strongly return the ball, the crowd cheering in between rounds. It was when they moved to targets shaped like humans that things got interesting. There wasn't a pattern of civilians to enemy targets. Some rounds would have an every other pattern while others would have a total shuffling of both. It was a crazy mind game that required total focus and deciphering between the two. Not surprisingly, both Mouse and Jay kept up like nothing bothered them. It was during the faster round of the human cutouts that the duel came to a close. Jay by now was firing as soon as he saw a target, breathing a small sigh of relief when the next cutout appeared. Mouse was on point with his shot and was waiting for Jay to hand it back over to him. Jay saw the figure, aimed and fired, and was soon met with a gasp.
"What," he asked he looked away from the scope. Mouse was beaming with victory. Jay looked back in his scope to see a civilian dressed like a shepherd with a bullet between his eyes. His head drooped down in defeat as Mouse gathered his things and confidently walked away. Jay sat there for several minutes, kicking himself for slipping right at the end. By now the viewing party dispersed and Jay appreciated the silence. He gathered himself after awhile and slowly headed back for the gun room. He was startled by a figure standing in the corner as he flicked the lights on.
"Holy cow, not the best place to surprise someone, man." Mouse laughed before approaching Jay with an extended hand.
"Greg Gerwitz. Nice shooting."
"Thanks, Jay Halstead." While it was just a hand shake, there was this unspoken respect between them, like it was the start of a brotherly friendship.
"Are you aware of the rumors going around this place about you," Jay asked? Mouse smiled.
"Yeah, I guess people need something to entertain themselves with while they're here."
"So, is any of it true?"
"Other than practicing a lot, no. But I got the training bug from my family. My grandfather was stationed at Pearl Harbor and completed three tours during WWII and my father fought in the Vietnam war. It's become a family tradition of sorts. All the men in my family have either served or will serve at some point. It's just what we do. Growing up on a farm in southern Illinois, you're around guns pretty often. I was given my first gun when I was ten and I haven't stopped since. My dad would set up targets and give lessons on proper gun handling. The best part was that I could practice all day long because the closest neighbor was miles away."
"Sounds like a fun childhood."
"Yeah, it was great. What's your story?"
"Well, born and raised in Chicago and wanted to do something with my life. So I signed up for this."
"Ah, a city kid. How are you enjoying the country life," Mouse jokingly asked?
"Yeah…it's different," Jay replied through a laugh. A sargeant stuck his head in the room at this point, letting them know it was time to head back to the barracks. Jay exited first, being stopped by Mouse before they went their separate ways for the night.
"Nice job, Jay. Thanks for being a worthy opponent." Jay smirked and nodded.
"Ditto." It was the start of a beautiful friendship.
…
It was a real life mission tailored to test every area of training. It was going to be a physical and mental test, the closest thing to real life battle situation. The guns would be firing blanks but the knives and fights would be very real. This was the final bridge between training and the real deal. Their final mission was to rescue a group of civilians that were taken hostage in an enemy camp. They were given intel on the compound and those residing in it. From there, it was up to the groups to create a game plan. Leaders were voted on by the groups and tasks were delegated to the remaining members of the pack. Rescue the civilians and you had successfully graduated. Get captured or lose a civilian during the raid, then you were dismissed from camp. The final pass/fail was all that stood between them and the real world. The candidates were split up into groups of seven. Jay was in a group with Rev, New York, and Mouse and also Sticks, Dalton, and someone none of them worked with named Dwayne. We'll learn more about Sticks and Dalton later. For now, back to the task at hand.
Mouse was awarded team leader with Jay as his second hand, the guy that would watch his back and make sure everyone stayed in line with the plan. They spent the next day going over the intel and formulating the plan. Rev and Sticks would make first contact, handling the guards while Mouse, Jay, and New York breached the gate. Once the front was guarded, Dalton and Rev would come behind to guard the end of the pack while Sticks and Dwayne would stand guard at the exit, waiting to alert the chopper of their needed assistance. The group bunked in the same barrack the night before the raid. None of the slept that night but rather, used their time to master the hand signals and complete countless walk throughs of the plan. When they boarded the plane for Arizona the following day, they were both exhausted and excited for the day ahead. Some viewed this D-day as something to dread, the group saw it as an opportunity to shine. They were about four hours into their flight when the radios began crackling commands and drop zones. They somehow forgot the whole jump part of training but didn't flinch. It was go time.
They all sprung from their seats on the plane and quickly donned their jump gear. Each member of the group looked at their fellow man and nodded before heading for the doors of the plane. They knew the task and how they were going to get it done. The only thing left was to execute it perfectly on the first try. Nothing to worry about, right?
The doors slowly pried open and Mouse jumped first, the rest shortly in tow. It was when they were careening to the ground that Jay concluded this was the thing he hated the most. There was this quietness and calmness up here and he hated it. The air had this eerie silence to it, like it knew chaos was going to breakout the second it's occupants hit the ground. Jay didn't know if or when calmness would return and he hated that. Nothing but panic and fighting was ahead of him. They all safely and gently reconnected with the ground, quickly gathering their parachutes before setting themselves up for the mission. It was nearly dark by now so night vision was utilized before heading towards their target. It was a slow, methodical crawl and march to the enemy camp, but they made it without incident. They were a hundred yards away from the front gate when they stopped, Mouse giving Rev and Sticks the hand signals to begin advancing. They made it about twenty feet when the shots began coming at them. Dalton and Dwayne turned around, looking for the source firing at them.
"Got two targets just west of us," Dalton whispered. Mouse kept his vision straight ahead, not losing the task at hand.
"If you have a shot, take it," he calmly replied. Dalton raised his gun in the direction of the shots and waited for the next round. It hit about ten feet away from him, gave him the location of the shooter. He watched as the bullet exited his rifle and made contact with the combatant a moment later. Dwayne followed suit and had the same result a short time later.
"Target handled," they both replied. Mouse only nodded a satisfied reply. Jay quietly adjusted in his crouch, waiting for the breach signal from Rev and Sticks. They heard shouts and gunfire for a minute or so till silence echoed in the valley. Two clicks on the radio told them they were clear for the breach. Jay, Mouse and New York broke from their spot and quickly jogged to the front gate.
"Nice job, boys," Mouse whispered as they past Rev and Sticks. Jay just smirked. Mouse was clearly in his element and it was almost funny to witness. The raided each room methodically. Every corner, door, and window was met with caution, one person telling the others to wait for clearance before continuing. They eventually came to the epicenter of the compound and found a door in the floor, indicating this was where the civilians were being kept. They all found the lack of enemy fire odd, but continued on. They slowly crawled down the hallway to a small hole in the wall. Mouse entered first, alerting the group he had civilians and needed assistance getting them out. Jay slinked into the hole first. The civilians were really a group of the instructors and sergeants from camp, but they played along with the scenario. They pretended to be startled and scarred, Jay reassuring them as he undid their restraints.
"We've got you. You're going home," Jay told one of the civilians as a figure from the corner lunged out at him with a knife, the blade making contact with the base of his neck. He felt the pain for half a second before remembering he still had a job to do. Ignoring the blood dripping, he grabbed his handgun and pointed it at the attacker, commanding him to drop the knife and kneel down. When the attacker responded by going after one of the civilians, Jay aimed and shot the person center mass, watching him go limp as he landed on the ground. By now, shouting was sounding above and around them, making the group kick things into gear. Jay and Dalton took the lead, continually reminding the civilians to remain behind and stay with them. Jay holstered his handgun before grabbing the rifle with the night vision scope, readying himself for whatever was on the other side. It was a constant stop and go process, several times holding the group up to handle enemy attackers before moving forward. The entire thing took fifteen minutes, but felt like three hours to those playing a role in the raid. But eventually they made it to the safe zone and huddle with the civilians as the chopper landed in the safe zone. The group hurried the civilians onto the chopper before climbing on and telling the pilot to take off. It as the compound grew smaller that they all began to smile and cheer. No one was captured and everyone was safely rescued. Mission accomplished. Jay finally remembered he was hit by knife and began to pull clothing away from the injury sight, getting weird looks from his teammates.
"That's nice," Mouse announced as Jay revealed the source of his bleeding.
"Is it deep," Jay inquired?
"Nah, but it'll leave and gnarly scar," New York said. Mouse radioed to base that they'd need medical assistance when they landed, Jay rolling his eyes over the serious tone of Mouse's voice. They landed twenty minutes later, greeted by a roar of applause from the training staff on the base. No longer were they nameless candidates being continuously grilled. They were one of them: United States Army Rangers. Mouse looked over at Jay as they walked off the chopper and into the hanger. It was a very awesome moment that made them feel ten times cooler than they'd ever felt. A member of the medical staff met Jay at the giant doors and inspected the injury on his neck.
"You need a few stitches," the nurse announced and ushered him to a treatment room. She made him disrobe down to the undergarments, Jay sighing and fighting the urge to protest the entire time. This was so un-macho and he greatly disliked it. He was given clean clothing and told to lie down on a gurney as the nurse rolled a suturing tray close to the bed. Jay winced at the shot of lidocaine being injected into his neck before dozing off as she stitched the cut closed. Jay was snoring as she put the gauze pad on his neck. Jay slept there for an hour or so, being rudely jolted awake by Mouse's constant jostling of his shoulder.
"What," Jay gruffly asked?
"Get up, man. They're waiting for us."
"What?!"
"The badge thing. We're waiting for you." Jay looked around the room for a moment as he nodded. Mouse helped him sit up before heading for the door, impatiently looking at Jay as he slowly walked towards the door.
"You alright, Jay?"
"Yeah, just really tired."
"Join the club. And next time, remember to duck." Jay smacked the back of Mouse's head before heading to the badge ceremony. It was tradition for candidates to get their Rangers badge attached to the shoulder of their combat uniform at the end of their final mission. It was the formal ending of their training program. For most, it was an official thing with the salute and attire and picture and everything. For those present for Jay's graduation, they all had a good laugh over his official entrance into the Rangers. He had serious bed head, was groggy from the mild sedative, and had a massive white gauze pad on his neck. He was the personification of surviving one of the hardest boot camps in the U.S. military. Jay didn't care how much grief he got for the photo. Because, after all the pain and endurance and challenges they all faced, he found himself in that coveted ten percent bracket.
I don't know if anyone has noticed, but in real life, Jesse has this scar at the base of his neck. I thought it'd be kinda fun to incorporate that into the story. In other news, we've made it to the end of boot camp! Now the fun stuff begins. Thanks for reading!
