THE FIRE WITHIN
Chapter 6
When the morning came, I didn't know what to expect. To be honest, I expected to be awoken by the peaceful sound of birds chirping in the trees as the glistening sun would peak just over the horizon. Instead, I wake up to the sound of yelling throughout a hallway as the sound of doors were swung open. Oh, please tell me this is just a dream. I look outside of the window and as before, the big blue ocean. 'Guess no view of a sunrise or sunset. I picked up the alarm clock on my nightstand. My eyelids grew wide in surprise. 4:00 am! But I just went to bed at 12! That was four small hours ago! What kind of sleep schedule do these people have? Ughhhh. I could hear the yelling coming closer and closer by each passing doorway.
"Alright, alright, alright! Rise and shine you snot gobbling, lint licking, pompous womps of ladies! It's time to start another day and we're NOT gonna be burnin' the light out of it because of you buffoons! So get your stiff-tailed, buck-teethed, flea fiasco outta bed! That means you, Dixer!" This guy must be the drill sergeant. At least his language of insults isn't that bad. "No wonder why you're still a virgin! Ain't no pretty woman gonna be ridin' you with that 1-inch! Now, put that depressing thing away and get dressed!" Oooookay. Wow. I stand corrected. Much worse than that one polar bear instructor at the ZPA. So after the yelling died down, I decided to get dressed and head on over into the kitchen where I guessed everyone was at and thankfully, they were. I just remembered I haven't eaten a thing since the incident and my stomach was growling like a feral dog. I then proceeded to go up to the kitchen counter, noticing all of these medium-sized boxes. I picked up one of them and shook it close to my ear, trying to decipher what was inside the containment. I was just about to open it when I heard a familiar voice from behind call my name out.
"Good morning, Nicholas." General Meadows greeted without fatigue. Good morning is an understatement when you don't feel good and you don't see the morning sun. Though, I put on my polite tone and greeted him back.
" 'Morning."
"Sleep well?"
"Oh yeah. The best four hours of sleep in my life." I replied sarcastically. The fox seemed to sense my lack of sleep and commented on it.
"It is noticed that unlike the ZPD's work hours, we tend to arise as soon as dawn and we go to bed as soon as midnight. The ZPD starts at 8:30, we start at 4:30. They end as soon as sunset begins and we end when our job has been done. And unlike many of your foes, ours don't sleep as much and neither do we. As long as they are up, we are up. But how do we stay awake you might wonder. Training. Not only can you train your mentality, you can train your mind. We are not suffering from the wrath of deprivation. We don't grow weak and we don't grow weary. We really rest when our work has succeeded. So with proper training," he pointed to me, " and a little bit of black coffee, you'll be up and running in a heartbeat." I just stared at him in amazement. This guy gets a minimum of four hours of sleep and is STILL able to function properly. On the other hand, he might have a few loose bolts up in there.
"Well, I guess I better get used to the sleep schedule from now on." I stated reluctantly.
"Sleep is a beautiful thing, Nicholas. Do not waste a bit."
"Wouldn't dream of it. So the thing in my paw, what is it?" I asked, looking at the box and the boxes around me. He slightly grinned.
"That is your breakfast." My face shot up at him with befuddlement as I looked back at the box I was holding. I then sat down and decided to see what kind of goods it carried. Lima beans. Gross. Peeta bread. Gross. Sardines. Mega gross. A pack of cigarettes? Well, at least they added this little chocolate chip cookie.
"Aaand you call this breakfast?"
"No, what have you have there is really what we call an MRE."
"A what?"
"Meal ready to eat. And they will be your breakfast, lunch, and dinner."
"Ah. I expected a five star course." He chuckled.
"It's good enough for the stomach."
"And bad enough for my taste buds."
"Even the cookie?" He asked a little surprised.
"No, the cookie's great." As I started munching down on it and later, the rest of the food.
"Hey Wilde! Come on over here. If you're with us, you gotta know us." One of the members who was a timber wolf called out my name and made a paw gesture for me to go over to. I glanced at the general.
"Go ahead. I encourage you to know the gang." I gave him a nod and went on over to the group of mammals. I sat down right next to the wolf and viewed the men sitting around him. All of them looked badass, nevertheless , but they all seemed to have warm and welcoming features shown on their faces. The wolf began to introduce the team.
"This is Jags, Keth, Xamon, Dixer, and Esther." Couldn't forget that girl. Esther winked at me. Other than her, I might need to remember who is who. Okay, Jags is the tiger, Keth is the bear, Xamon is the lion, and Dixer is the hippo. I should also know their names 'cause of the dog tags their all wearing around their necks. "And I'm Kruck." He pointed to himself.
"What classes?" I asked. I wanted to know who did what.
"Good question. Jags is our medic. Tends the wounded. If you're in dire need of a bandage or had just stopped breathing, Jags will fix you up. Keth will be demolitions. He's the one who makes things go boom, blowing all to smithereens. Xamon takes the role of pilot. He'll be flying those UH-1 hueys and f-22 raptors, giving some eyes in the sky and rainin' down hell. Dixer plays support. Now he's got the big guns. He'll be carrying around m60 LMGs to m134 miniguns, sprayin' and prayin'. Esther though is essential for her role. Her night vision capability earns her the title as scout. She'll be the high cal sniper. Plucks off those suckers one by one. And me? I'll be doing mostly assault. I'm the guy who's got your back with an m16."
"So who am I gonna be?" They all laughed.
"Before you get your title, you gotta earn your title." Xamon stated.
"Lemme guess. Training?"
"And a lot of it." Keth finished.
"First thing is, this ain't no walk in the park. You gotta be pledged to this. This isn't the ZPD anymore. This is much bigger. Much more advanced. You screw up, you do it again and again and again until you get it right. And always remember, the drill sergeant is not trying to weaken you. He's trying to strengthen. Build you up more. No soft guy. You don't flinch at nothin'. You do exactly what he tells you to do and you just MIGHT be an official ZBO member. Speaking of the sergeant. Sergeant in the room!" Kruck yelled out to get everybody's attention all on the drill instructor. What automatically surprised me was where? Where was he? I then looked onto the floor and I was taken aback at what I actually saw. For what I saw on the floor was nothing more than a mouse. Geez, these people surprise me every bit of the way. It's crazy how a mouse like this ends up with a strong military accent that really does sound like your everyday drill sergeant. 'Guess they didn't promote him for being best squeaker. The sergeant looked around the room towards his trainees, observing each and everyone's posture and attitude.
"At ease, soldiers." The mouse stood steadfast. He looked around the room making sure everyone was here by calling out all of their names in which they responded back with 'aye, sir.' I was the last person that he laid his tiny, little eyes on and he proceeded to walk straight up to me. It was honestly, still a little hard for me to take this guy seriously, just by his obvious size. But that didn't even make my think of disrespecting him. Last time I disrespected a small fellow, I almost got iced alive with my soon-to-be partner and best friend. Mr. Big let me know that size surly does not matter. Small black eyes stared right into my emerald ones and I daresay this guy was intimidating. I think I nearly broke a sweat.
"Good to have you on board, Piberius. Sergeant Damien Melbourne. As you might have guessed, I will be your drill instructor for the next 18 months, depending on your progression and advancement in-training." Wait, did I hear that right? 18 MONTHS?! Over a year and a half! I know the ZPA took long to complete, but that's nothing compared to this!
"18 months?" I asked still in complete disbelief.
"That's correct."
"I'm gonna be cooped up in here for 18 months?"
"The majority of the time, yes."
"But . . . my life! My career! I still can train on my own, on my own turf, whenever and wherever." The sergeant glowered his eyes at me a little with a warning.
"You're a dead fox, Piberius. Remember that." He pointed his index finger at me.
"More like a dead foxtrot. Get it? Dead fu-" Jags snickered out loud. It was his turn to be glowered at.
"And you'll about to be one too if you don't shut that autistic muzzle of yours!" Melbourne shouted out. Well, that shut him up. The mouse looked back up at me.
"What I'm saying is, ever since the explosion, the majority of the city, including the Brotherhood of Savages, declared you KIA. You might not think this at first but this works tremendously to our advantage, especially yours in particular. You play dead, you stay dead. And when the time comes for the snake to strike, he's got himself his dinner." It all sounded crazy. And what's still the craziest thing is I'm still alive. So the Brotherhood supposedly kills me, I get adopted by this butt-kicking antiterrorist group, I'm off the radar, get a little training, or a lot of training, really, and then pounce? Sounds about what a "dead" fox would do. ". . . You have a long journey ahead of you. But with our key factor of training and diligence, we will get there." He stared at me intently with a little bit of hope in his eyes. "If you pledge your allegiance to the Zootopia Black Ops you must answer the code of conduct with a firm 'aye, sir.'"
"Right now?"
"Do you pledge your allegiance?" Before I answered his life-changing question, I thought about it very strongly. Do I really want to join the most elite special force in all of Zootopia? Do I really want to pledge myself worthy to stand in the boots of a Black Ops? Do I really want to be this somewhat new and improved man that will do anything he can to serve the ones he fights for and protect the ones he loves most dear? Why, yes. Yes, I do.
"Aye, sir." And for the first time in a not-so-long time, I saw the sergeant smile.
"Alright, then. Do you, Nicholas Piberius Wilde, vow your loyalty to country, team, and teammate?"
"Aye, sir."
"Do you vow to serve with honor and integrity on and off the battlefield?"
"Aye, sir."
"Do you vow to be ready to lead, ready to follow, never quit?"
"Aye, sir."
"Do you vow to take responsibility for your actions and the actions of your teammates?"
"Aye, sir."
"Do you vow to excel as a warrior through discipline and innovation?"
"Aye, sir."
"Do you vow to train for war, fight to win, defeat our nation's enemies?"
"Aye, sir."
"Do you vow to earn your black rose every day?"
"Aye, sir." I saw that the general just entered the squad's circle as he announced the main thing.
"Then let the training commence!"