Authors Note: Ok, I have now decided after twenty-odd chapters I want to have a few here and there with Gordon being the narrator. I didn't feel like making this thing into two parts, I'm lazy I know. Anywho, the Gordon chapters will be marked so, if not then they will be from Angela's point of view. So…any thoughts or comments, feel free to put them in the reviews and I'll consider them. Anywho, enough notes, now that I have thoroughly confused y'all.

Gordon

I couldn't bring myself to open the door. I just couldn't and it wasn't like me to be such a coward when I knew what awaited me. But I could not step through the door knowing the man that was behind it could hold the rest of my professional career in the Army in his very hands.

Not that pressure bothered me. It was the power that man had. I didn't like people having power over me. It bothered me. It was a control thing, I knew that, and it would always be in the back of my subconscious poking at me no matter what I did.

The man wasn't there because I had requested the interview.

I was being recruited.

There was a pride factor in being recruited by Special Forces Units. It wasn't like I was trying out and proving myself. No. They knew I was good, they had been watching me, and they wanted me.

I just had to sign on the dotted line for selection.

I continued to stare at the door.

Did I want it? Did I want to go through selection for a unit that was officially unofficial? I wanted a challenge. I needed something new at work. I had re-upped and was not sure if I wanted to be a Ranger for the next four years. Civilian life held absolutely no appeal.

This was all on me.

No one in my chalk, no one above me could do anything to help me make selection. Angela had made it obvious that whatever I wanted to do she would support. She'd move anywhere.

This was my choice.

I looked at my watch.

I was still a few minutes early.

There was no doubt that I wouldn't give up during selection. No doubt that I would quit, or any time I gave up during anything in my life or career. I just had to decide did I want it.

There were a number of things I wanted. I wanted an old Mustang. I wanted to get buried on Army paperwork and never have to set foot in a courthouse in Michigan. I wanted to party in a heart shaped hot tub with my wife, preferably topless.

I wanted more out of life…I might as well get more out of my job. I needed a challenge at work.

Before I could change my mind I opened the door to the room and saw a man seated at a table, a chair across from him. All my paperwork was compiled neatly in a folder in front of him.

He didn't seem surprised to see me early.

The man was also in jeans and a simple grey t-shirt. His hair was not cut regulation standard and he had a full beard. I had heard that the grooming standards in Special Forces were relaxed, but he just blew my mind.

He stood and shook my hand never giving me his name. Therefore I never asked his name.

Then I sat down and he folded his hands and set them on the table, "Well sergeant, you have a very impressive service record and are very handy with that rifle of yours."

What did someone say to that? I was good at shooting people.

"Thank you sir."

At the mention of sir a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, he said nothing.

"According to this you are a model soldier. Four solid years in the Army, three as a Ranger. You re-enlisted and have another two solid years as a Ranger under your belt. The only thing I can't seem to find is your life prior to the Army."

God bless SEALs and their paperwork connections.

"How so sir?"

His eyes alone looked up at me over my paperwork, "Your life prior to the fake and real papers. Your life between the ages of fifteen and eighteen."

That, yeah, that would be a problem to prove.

"It's peculiar for someone to just drop off the face of the earth for four years. Not to mention a hard thing to do…near impossible. How do two uneducated runaways survive on the streets unaided?"

Now was not the time for me to be sarcastic, an ass, or difficult.

"Ask me a specific question and I will give you a specific answer."

The man smiled.

He then asked me, "Why don't you have a criminal record?"

That was pretty easy to answer.

"I never committed a felony. I used fake names and paid all the fines for the misdemeanors I committed, then we moved."

That answer pleased him and he moved on, "You have a GED."

"I worked nights."

Then he asked a question I didn't think he would. A question no one had ever asked me the question during my career. "Why did you join the Army?"

I thought about it while I looked at my records.

He added, "We'll get to those later, sergeant, don't worry."

Oh good, I could hardly wait.

I told him the truth, "I wanted something better then what I had."

"How long do you plan to stay in the Army?"

That was a no-brainer, "As long as you'll have me, sir." Yeah, that sounded original. I didn't really care if he believed me or not.

"Do you have any aspirations for OCS?"

"Not right now," I truthfully told him.

His hand fell on my paperwork, "Now, lets start here."

About an hour later…

Apparently I had met every qualification of theirs.

I had a rank of a sergeant.

I was over twenty-one.

Pass some written and physical tests.

I had never received a court martial and I had no record of disciplinary problems, I had been a good boy.

Once the meeting was over all I had was a piece of paper with a phone number. I would receive orders shortly.

What the hell did I just get myself into was one of the many thoughts swimming around my head. I knew selection was held once a year. That was all I knew about it. Lopez was keeping his mouth shut, not even saying if he had or hadn't passed it. Bastard.

Sometime next year I would venture through it.