Chapter 9

Gordon fell into line amongst the other hopefuls. For the next few days he wasn't Gordon Tracy, Olympian and heir to one of the largest fortunes in America, he was Number 14 and the anonymity suited him just fine. The elastic armband around his bicep was the sole identifier to distinguish him from the other candidates as the assessors marked down their observations. Only the course leader had the information that linked names to numbers; each stage of selection was kept separate to avoid bias.

"Atten...shun!"

The command was barked out by the officer placed in charge of his group and Gordon found himself jumping to the alert and snapping his feet together automatically. Evidently something had remained buried deep in his memory from all the times watching Scott being taught drill by their father or practicing out in the yard in Kansas all those years ago. The rest of the group also snapped to attention with varying degrees of success.

"Group C, your first test is pool fitness. You have two minutes to fetch your swimming kit and fall back into line. Go!"

There was a mad scramble towards the door of their temporary accommodation as Gordon and the other potential recruits allocated to group C raced to retrieve their kit from their bunks. They had barely been on base for an hour but had already learnt that failure to meet a time limit or just being last to complete a task would result in being given punishment press ups. By the time they had reassembled groups A and B were nowhere to be seen, evidently separated off to undertake one of the other selection tests.

As they marched across the base to the pool Gordon couldn't help but feel slightly pleased that his group was getting to swim first. This was his natural environment and he justifiably had every confidence in his own abilities. It would also give him a good chance to stretch out his muscles after sitting around in the airport and then being cramped in an airline seat; domestic flights were always taken in coach class for a Tracy son travelling solo.

Once within the pool building more orders were barked giving a time limit to get changed. Gordon quickly found a space on the bench and started stripping. Some of the other recruits seemed a little uncomfortable about changing in the communal space but Gordon figured that privacy would often be hard to come by within the submarine service and now was not the time to be worried about modesty. After years of completing the action several times a week he could be in his kit almost as quickly as he could swim 200m and he was one of the first ready.

He snapped on his sunshine yellow swimming cap drawing a few strange looks but Gordon shrugged them off; so what if only a couple of candidates in his group were wearing them? To Gordon the cap was just a standard part of his kit, however he was glad he had decided to leave his Team USA branded items at home and opt for his plain training set; there was no need to draw more attention to himself than was strictly necessary.

Out on the poolside the elastic armbands were replaced by numbered stickers slapped on shoulder and thigh. From the way the sticker pulled tightly at the skin Gordon just knew that ripping it off later would be a painful experience. Once numbers had been applied everyone lined up expectantly, awaiting further orders.

"Right, I want two circuits of the pool as warm up. No cutting the corners. No touching the wall. Do you understand?"

"Yes Sir!" the chorus of voices responded in unison.

"Into the water, in number order. Go!"

One by one the men allocated to group C were counted into the water to complete their circuits around the perimeter of the pool. The pace was frustratingly slow for the Olympian whose number placed him towards the rear of the pack and it took a lot of self control not to stretch out and overtake those ahead of him.

The slow pace allowed Gordon plenty of opportunity to look around the facility. WASP evidently invested in its sporting areas for the pool itself was up to Olympic standards even if the viewing and changing areas were a little more basic than Gordon had encountered at some of his competitions. If he was given the opportunity to continue his swimming training, and it wasn't unheard of to encounter military participants released for competitions, he would have no complaints about the standard of the Marineville pool. Unfortunately his appraisal of the facilities nearly earned him a kick in the face, he hadn't realised how close he had got to the swimmer in front and had to drop his pace yet again to maintain some distance. For him the actual tests and the chance to stretch out his limbs couldn't come soon enough.

With warm-up over the first eight swimmers were allocated their lanes. Gordon watched the action even more closely than the assessors, critiquing the style of others was all part of his ingrained training and he winced at some of the sloppy dives and mangled turns. Still, the tests were about meeting a minimum standard rather than being competition ready.

Soon enough it was time for swimmers 9 through to 16 to claim a lane. It didn't escape Gordon's notice that his number placed him in lane six and the coincidence struck him as lucky. If you had asked him just a few months ago what his favourite lane was he would have promptly answered four but after his Olympic success he has developed a soft spot for his current position, after all it had been good enough to earn him gold and a world record. He adjusted his goggles and wiggled his toes on the edge of the pool, he would have preferred to use a starting block but he could adapt.

The sound of the whistle had him launching into the water in a clean dive. There had been no stipulations on the stroke to be used and Gordon automatically found himself using his preferred butterfly, unaware of the raised eyebrows this was causing among the onlookers; his rejection of freestyle making him stick out almost as much as the yellow hat. That and the fact that he left the other candidates in his wake. He shot through the water, powerful muscles propelling him towards the finish at a rate that far exceeded expectations.

Less than 2 minutes later and Gordon had completed his fourth lap and finished the test. He had taken it easy, or at least he thought he had until he turned and realised the next nearest swimmer was almost a full lap behind him. He returned bemused stares with a shrug and a smile before placing his hands on the poolside and launching himself out to sit on the edge and wait for the others to finish.

The remainder of the pool tests passed in much the same fashion with Gordon easily outstripping his cohort. He could swim faster, dive further and hold his breath for longer than any of the others. His techniques were sharp and in the water he moved with a strength and grace that were enviable. Even skills like casualty towing, which wasn't part of his usual repertoire, came naturally to him and he aced the tests with ease. The assessors scribbled some hurried notes on their pads; when it came to the water based activities at least candidate 14 was marking himself out as someone to watch.

xoxoxox

The first day drew to a close and Gordon was thankful when his group were released to the freedom of their dormitory. The pool session had been swiftly followed by a run then a drill lesson in one of the large parade squares dotted around the base. His muscles were weary and clearly grumbling at the lack of deep stretching after his swim but he was in a better shape than many in the room. WASP only accepted the very best to join its ranks and the selection tests were designed to weed out those not up to standard. Already three beds in his room were empty after their allocated occupants had withdrawn, either having had a change of heart or to avoid the shame of being rejected at the end of the course having already failed too many of the test elements.

Tempting as it was to just flop down onto his bunk Gordon knew from painful experience that he would regret it the following day. He settled himself on an empty patch of floor and started running through some yoga poses to try and work out the tension in his back and legs. Just because the instructors hadn't given them much opportunity to stretch didn't give him the excuse to neglect his body. It also gave him something productive to do while waiting for his turn in the showers.

His activities drew some curious looks and half-sniggered comments from the others in the room but he zoned out and ignored them, instead focussing on his form until the showers came free. He didn't have long to wait, two showers came free at the same time and both he and Number 13 grabbed their towels and headed through to the wash rooms.

He stripped down to his shorts and picked experimentally at the stickers left in place after the pool session, the glue was strong and part of him was tempted to leave them except the edges were just beginning to lift and annoy him. He gritted his teeth, pinched the loosest corner and ripped back sharply. He swiftly repeated the action on the second sticker then rubbed briskly at the angry red patches left on his skin.

"That looked painful. Not too sure I want to do that to myself"

He looked up, met the eyes of Number 13 and grinned.

"It's just like pulling off a band-aid. Nothing to it."

"Rather you than me. I think I'll try and get mine in the shower."

They went their separate ways into the empty cubicles and Gordon turned the shower up high. The accommodation might be spartan but he was glad the water was hot and plentiful. The powerful drops blasted away the sweat and chlorine that had built up on his skin and he turned his face into the stinging stream. Much as he would have liked to stand there for longer he knew others were waiting their turn and it wouldn't be fair to hang around. The temptation was strong but he hadn't been impressed by the amount of time some candidates had taken and it wasn't fair to keep the last few waiting longer than they had to.

All too soon he was back in the chilly dorm room, hauling himself onto the bunk that had been marked out as his. Eight sets of bunk beds lined the room, with thirteen of the individual beds now filled. He wondered how many more gaps would appear as the selection course progressed. Murmurs of conversation broke out around the room as the participants made use of the first real chance they had to get to know each other since arriving. The instructors had kept them busy all afternoon and unnecessary chatter during the tasks had been swiftly quelled by punishment press ups, but now, with no instructors around, the candidates could speak more freely.

Gordon lay back and listened. It was the usual first-night whispers he remembered from some of his swim camps; name, city but unsurprisingly not their favourite distance and stroke. The introductions travelled around the room; it seemed Marineville saw applicants from the west coast right through to the central states. Gordon knew it would soon be his turn and he resolved to say as little as possible, he was enjoying being just another person in the crowd.

"So what about you 14?"

"Gordon, I'm from LA."

If he thought he was going to be able to get away with the bare minimum he was sorely mistaken.

"So what were you doing before you decided to try out for WASP? You're built like a tank and you swim like a fish. You some personal trainer or something?"

"Me? Uh, I've just high finished school. I do swim competitively though."

Thankfully the candidate doing the questioning latched on more to the school part than the swimming.

"Only just left school? You don't act like some kid, I thought you were at least 20, maybe 22."

"Nope, only 17."

"Jeez, that makes you the baby of the group. So what do your family think of you heading off to sea first chance you get?"

Thankfully Gordon was spared answering by a bellow from the doorway.

"This is a military base, not a holiday camp. If you lot have enough energy to gossip you obviously aren't working hard enough. Now if I hear another sound from this room I will have you outside running laps until you drop. Do you understand me?"

A chorus of "Yes, Sir!" rang out before the room descended into total silence.

Gordon rolled over, wondering what challenges tomorrow would bring.

xoxoxox

The second day of selection started with the sound of drums at daybreak. Sleepy heads were raised in confusion. Others who were quicker on the uptake, Gordon included, leapt from their beds and started throwing on clothes. He was glad he hadn't skimped on the stretches the night before, some of his contemporaries were looking decidedly stiff after the exertions of the previous day.

The now familiar sound of shouting filled the room.

"Up! Up! Sports kit on and outside for PT before breakfast. Move!"

Gordon was no stranger to early morning training. As the first beats had sounded from the speakers in the corners of the room he had been on his feet, all shreds of sleep disappearing in an instant. It was an enviable skill and obviously not one possessed by all in the room. To the observing instructor in the doorway Number 14 shone through yet again as one of the stronger candidates.

There was no denying that WASP selection was a taxing experience. The group was whisked from one set of tests to another. If it wasn't their bodies being tested it was their minds as they sat exam papers or explored leadership scenarios. By lunch time another member of his group had dropped out, and judging by the numbers sitting down to eat groups A and B were now similarly depleted. Even those that lasted the distance had no guarantee they would be accepted to wear the prestigious grey uniform; the standards might have an absolute minimum but it had been made clear that if more met the standard than was needed then only the very best would be made an offer.

While many were struggling Gordon was relishing the challenge. It was as though he had found his niche. Even the written tests, which he had approached with some trepidation, had been well within his comfort zone which helped his confidence soar. Theories and concepts which had seemed so abstract at school seemed to make more sense when applied to a real life scenario and for once in his life Gordon walked away from a classroom without feeling a failure.

After lunch group C were to take their turn on the obstacle course, a gruelling array of beams, walls and aerial wires that would require both strength and agility to navigate. To Gordon the course looked like a massive playground and he couldn't help but grin at the prospect.

The instructors divided the group into smaller teams of four and Gordon's team set off onto the course first at the sound of the whistle.

The group raced along, leaping over pits using rope swings and stepping along narrow beams as quickly as their balance allowed, each candidate aiming to be the first to reach and therefore clear each piece of equipment. It was every man for himself. That was until they were brought up short by a 10 foot wall. Number 6, who was keen to keep his early lead, took a running jump at the obstacle. His fingers caught the top edge but he was unable to keep a good enough grip to climb over and he soon fell back down again.

To Gordon the solution was obvious; it was quickly becoming apparent to him that this test was different to those that had gone before and if they were to have any hope of making it through successfully then teamwork would have to be the order of the day.

"Look, if any of us are to stand a chance of getting through this course we are going to have to work together."

Number 6, after a second failed leap, was quick to agree. Numbers 3 and 10, arriving a moment later, could also see sense in the plan.

"Sure. So how are we going to tackle this one."

Three sets of eyes turned to Gordon expectantly. Having been the one to voice the idea the others were evidently expecting him to come up with the solution. He thought for a moment then turned and planted his back against the wall, bending his knees to make a step.

"6, you're tallest, you go first. Use me as a ladder to get up but stay on top of the wall, don't drop down the other side. You can then help up 3 and 10. Once you're all on top you can reach back down and haul me over. Got it?"

There were three nods of agreement.

Gordon braced himself as first his legs then his shoulders were used as steps. Once. Twice. A third time. His clothes became marked with muddy footprints but he didn't care, the plan was working and he was soon being bodily lifted up and over the obstacle by the team he had helped up first.

Having made the decision to work together the group soon found themselves speeding through the course. Many obstacles, while able to be attempted solo, could be cleared much quicker with careful cooperation and support; Gordon had evidently read the situation correctly.

Despite being the youngest the others seemed happy to defer to him as their leader and Gordon found himself naturally assuming command of the team. He directed the group to make the best use of their combined talents. Before long the band of four found themselves at the far end of the course, just one final obstacle to navigate their way over then the run for home.

Using their now tried and tested method the team were soon atop the the final wall despite it being the biggest yet. From here they could look back over the whole course, the other candidates and their assessors were indistinct figures in the distance.

"Wonder who that is come to visit? Probably from the World Navy. Best make sure we put on a good show, they might be important."

From his lofty vantage point Gordon looked back towards the start point. Number 6 was right, someone new had joined the cluster of watching assessors, the dark blue of their uniform a stark contrast to WASP grey.

"No idea. Come on, let's finish this as a team."

The group jumped down from the final obstacle and began the mad sprint back to the beginning of the course and their waiting assessors. As they closed the gap between themselves and the waiting officers, making sure no one was left behind, the mystery figure resolved itself into a familiar form for Gordon

Recognition led first to confusion and then to anger.

Scott.