A Good Soldier--chapter 5
By Slayne
11/19/02--- I revised and edited this whole story after learning of some military errors I made in it. My older stories will be left as is, but I decided to change this one. I'm still learning, but I do strive to be as military-accurate as my current knowledge and G.I. Joe will allow!
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Wayne's muscles tensed almost painfully as Alison's fingers ran down his chest and over his stomach. She was whispering in his ear, telling him how much she wanted him and then her mouth was pressing to his throat, then up to his lips as her hands slid beneath the waist of the belted camo pants he wore, her fingertips tickling his spine. He kissed her with vigor, tasting her with relish, sliding his arms around her narrow waist and pressing her hard against him. Her mouth was sweet and warm and he wanted her badly. Her fingernails ran up his back, making his jaw clench...and he suddenly woke from the dream into the darkness of his room.
He stared up at the ceiling for a moment, slowly coming to the realization that none of it had been real. His breath was hard and sweat ran down his face and chest. His body was almost painfully tight. He sat up slowly and buried his face in his hands. Jesus Christ.
He swung his legs over the side of the bed and sat there for a long moment, trying to relax and picking over the details of the vivid dream. His growing attraction to the young Corporal was disturbing him intensely...and yet his mind wanted to remember every detail of that dream...and store it away for future perusal. Anger boiled up inside of him again. What the hell was so special about her that she could splinter his rigid self- discipline like this? He glanced at the clock and saw it was oh four hundred. He pulled on his sweat-soaked fatigues from the day before and strapped a shoulder holster on with his .45. He might as well go for a run; he needed to clear his mind.
He ran steadily down the narrow dirt path surrounding the camp. It was still dark, but the moon was bright now and easily lit the way along with several well-placed lights equipped with motion sensors. The dream seemed to have pushed his denial away with waking and he finally allowed himself to accept the fact that he was very attracted to Alison Hart-Burnett. She was beautiful, intelligent, capable and as driven as he was in some respects. Despite the differences in their backgrounds...they were very similar, he realized. She had all the qualities he admired in a woman...and in another soldier. He wondered briefly what she would do if he told her about his feelings. His feelings. How had he let himself fall into this? Anger welled up inside of him. It seemed to always be present inside of him these days. He'd had his priorities straight before Corporal Burnett had appeared in his life.
Well, it didn't matter. He wouldn't tell her while she was his recruit. It seemed like failing her in the worst possible way to even consider it. Maybe after the camp was done, and they were both enlisted soldiers at different bases? Maybe she could get to know him better, away from all the rank and protocol. Long distance relationships worked pretty well for him. Maybe not.
He went through the rest of the day and then the week with an eye towards the female Corporal. His acceptance of his situation did not mean he wasn't angry with himself for falling into it. And that anger stretched to cover Burnett as well. He was aware in some sense that she had done nothing to cause him to feel this way, but it didn't matter. He ran her ragged. He leapt to confront each mistake with a new ferocity that had her gritting her teeth in effort. He didn't let up and sometimes he kept her after everyone was dismissed, making her atone for any error in judgment by doing push-ups or running laps. At night, he joined Will and Brad in the beer hall and smiled at Will's exuberant praise for the way he was handling her. She'd be gone any day now...Will was sure of it. Wayne...did not agree with that. He knew she'd stay, no matter how intolerable things became for her. Somehow...where once that had filled him with a deep sense of respect for her, it now just pissed him off. Brad's disapproving glares made him feel like shit though. He fixed that by avoiding the other Staff Sergeant when at all possible.
Burnett hadn't questioned his newly found aggression towards her. It wasn't as if he were taking it easy on the others. He'd had more than one of them out here beside her in the evenings, but he'd caught her confused and wondering glance more than a few times. That had actually sent a prickle of fear through him.
He didn't realize how intolerable he had made things for her until the end of the week. He had her on the ground doing push-ups again in the growing darkness. It was pouring rain over them both. Wayne shouted at the Corporal as her arms trembled from the effort and upper body strength it took to complete the push-ups. He heard her voice faintly through the rain. At first he thought she was counting, because of the rhythm of the words, and then he heard her say an actual word and he frowned.
"Speak up if you have something to say, Corporal!"
She rested briefly, her forehead down against the muddy ground as she breathed heavily and stayed silent.
"Out with it...NOW, Corporal! And I didn't tell you to stop those push- ups! You should be a pro at this by now."
She pushed herself up into position again and her trembling arms lowered her down and then pushed her back up again. Her voice came through the noise of the rain softly but clearly.
"Accuse me thus...that I have scanted all...Wherein I should your great... deserts repay...Forgot upon your dearest... love to call...Whereto all bonds. do tie me day by. day:" Her labored breath made the quantrains choppy and rough.
He was silent as he stared down at her. She struggled to push herself up and down and her hair clung, drenched, to the sides of her head and streamed water into her face and off her chin and nose to the muddy ground beneath her. The muscles in her back were tense with effort and she went to her knees to do push-ups in the 'girl's' style. He caught a brief glimpse of her face as she chanted out the words from between gritted teeth. Her eyes were squeezed closed.
"And on...just proof surmise...accumulate...Bring me...within the level of your...frown...But shoot...not at me in your...waken'd hate...Since...m-my appeal...says I did...did strive...to...to p- prove..."
"Stop." He said it quietly. Too quietly for her to hear over the driving rain. Almost too quietly for his own ears. He was angry with himself...not her. What the hell was he doing? This was just as bad as giving her preferential treatment.
"The...c-constancy and...virtue...of y-your...love."
"Stop Burnett! It's enough."
She hesitated and glanced up at him. He met her eyes then glanced away. The rain poured down through his hair and ran over his soaked clothes. She brought her legs underneath her and slowly stood.
"You can stop. It's enough. I...I'm..." He couldn't say anymore and she swallowed and looked uneasily at him. "Get some rest." He managed before turning to walk away from her as fast as his dignity would allow.
"I'm sorry you don't like me very much, Staff." she said before he had gone very far. He hesitated without turning around, a cold knife stabbing through his chest. She continued. "But I'm not leaving this camp..."
"Good...Then there's hope for you yet." He replied and hurried off. The incident would stay with him for a long time. Even after the camp was long over.
He managed to put it out of his mind for the duration of the camp. There was one week left now, and the recruits could see the light at the end of the tunnel. He had fallen back to his old self and stayed away from the nighttime chats with Will and Brad. He concentrated on the final tests that would determine the 'winners' of this camp. No one would likely be cut or quit now, and all would likely make it through the final three-day test in one fashion or another, but he'd have to judge them all fairly.
Five days out from the end, they gave the recruits an easy day and let them hit their bunks early. Wayne turned down Brad's offer of a drink and went back to his quarters. He stripped off his shirt and stretched out on his bed in his camo pants and boots. As much as he loved all of this, it was exhausting. He had to keep up with the others and show no weakness. He was in the prime of his life, but he could feel himself breaking down just like they were. He was laying on his bed, his back propped against the wall, reading a book when Will came through his door without knocking.
"Hey...What the hell are you doing?" Will stared at him in disbelief.
Wayne looked up over the small paperback and met the Major's eyes. "It's called reading, bonehead...you should try it sometime."
Will ignored the 'bonehead' comment. He stared at the elaborate script on the cover of the book. "What the hell are you reading?"
Wayne shut the book and threw it on the table next to the bed. "It's Shakespeare...I'm sure you never read it."
"Is it good?"
"It's ok...what do you want, Will?" His voice held an edge of impatience to it. He was still trying to understand what she saw in that book. What gave her such strength? He wasn't seeing it.
"We need to map out the final three days..." He was interrupted as shouting began outside, and both men leapt up and went running into the yard. Through the yelling of the soldiers on guard duty, there were gunshots. Everyone was pouring into the open now and Will took over instantly, grabbing Wayne and motioning him to follow. Through the confusion, they managed to figure out that three men had attacked the MP on night watch and tried to break into the ammo shed. The MP was shot through the upper arm, but otherwise ok. Will immediately began securing the camp and giving everyone a job. He sent Wayne, Brad and one of the older, less annoying Lieutenants out after the three guerillas and posted the recruits into watch duty.
Knowing time was incredibly important in apprehending the small band of men, Wayne joined Brad to pick up a rifle, pulled the mask on that Brad threw him, and the three of them headed out of the camp. They knew which way the guerillas would go. They all went the same way. The Lieutenant proved himself even less annoying than originally anticipated, when he actually contributed something useful to the mission and listened intently to everything Brad and Wayne had to say. They found the men within a half hour and managed to take two of them into custody without a shot being fired. The two gave up instantly with three M-16's trained on them, but the third pulled his gun and somehow got away into the jungle. Wayne went after him, leaving Brad and the LT to deal with the two captured subjects.
Wayne tracked the third steadily and carefully. The man couldn't get away, and would doubtlessly realize this eventually and try to ambush him. He walked down the bare dirt path that wound its way south. Despite its obvious visibility, it would make much less noise to walk on a cleared path rather than in the brush. It was barely the width of one foot though, and the trees and brush grew heavily up to it. As he got further from the confrontation site, the jungle grew quieter, and he moved slower. Every sense he had was open wide and attuned to the smallest detail of his surroundings. Every problem and stress he had receded and became unimportant. Everything else in his life dropped away in deference to the intensity of this moment. His fatigue disappeared and new energy filled him. It was always like that. He could die in an instant right now. Survival was the only important thing. It overwhelmed everything else. He let it consume him.
He edged forward, then sank down on his heels and listened. The insects were even quiet. The guy was close. He felt the insects settle on his bare torso and begin to bite. He didn't move. He waited...hearing nothing. Then...the smallest snap of a branch. His eyes slid left, but he didn't move. The insects to his left began whirring then became silent....then whirred again briefly and became silent. Wayne slowly turned left. He could hear his own breathing. Then...he heard someone else's. He watched as the third man came into view. The man held a rifle out in front of himself and crept up to a tangle of bushes next to the trail and then peered back up it in the direction of the base. Wayne stared at him with tunnel vision. He raised his rifle and aimed directly at the man's head. He slowly stood, keeping his sights locked on the man.
"Rendirse! Ponga las manos arriba!" He barked out and watched as the man whirled around and stared at him. The man glared and yelled in Spanish while Wayne shouted again for him to surrender. The man jerked his gun up...and Wayne shot him.
The man dropped like a ton of bricks and lay still. Wayne approached him slowly then saw the man was obviously dead. He'd taken the bullet to the face and his eyes hadn't even closed. Wayne let out a deep breath and stared down at him for a moment. He wasn't impervious to the sad fact that most of the villagers around here were too poor to resist the armies of the drug lords. They offered small salaries, but the villagers most often ended up in the front lines against police and foreign armies. But...when it came down to kill or be killed...Wayne would never have a doubt as to which path he would take. He slung the rifle onto his back and reached down to heft the man up over his shoulder and carry him down the path.
He dragged the man into the camp a few hours later. Brad had met him on the path and took his gun from him, helping him drag the dead man. Will met them as they stood on the edge of camp and shook his head at Wayne.
"Christ, Staff! I should have known...the LT said you went after a guy who got away."
"I shouted at him to surrender. He tried to shoot me."
"Understood." He stared down at the body and sighed. This would mean questions and investigation, but it had happened before. It would be routine.
Wayne stood tiredly and pulled the mask from his head, stuffing it in the cargo pocket of his pants. When he looked up, he saw Corporal Burnett standing in the small group surrounding him. Her eyes met his and she was looking at him with a wide-eyed expression that he didn't like. He glanced down and realized he had blood smeared on his bare chest and arms from the dead man at his feet. He walked forward through the group and he met her eyes with a steely coldness.
"Get used to it, Burnett. You wanted to be Covert-Ops...well, this is part of it."
She said nothing, but she stepped back as he passed as if not wanting him too close to her. That sent a pang of...something through him. Was that the way people viewed him? But of course, that's what he really wanted anyway...wasn't it? The fact that he was questioning things about himself that he thought he had set into stone long ago pissed him off. He stalked into his quarters and took the book from the table and threw it forcefully into the bathroom garbage can. Then he took a shower and washed the blood from himself, cursing himself for not putting a shirt on before he went after the men. It was never wise to get someone else's blood on you. When he was dried and re-dressed, he stood before the mirror and stared at himself in it. The army had trained him to be a highly efficient killer...and that was something he had been proud of. Should he be? He shook his head and stared into his own brown eyes in the mirror. He stood silent and thinking for a long moment and then clicked off the light. He'd have to go back and give his story to Will right now. He was surprised Will wasn't at his door yet, yelling. He began to walk out the door, and then he hesitated. Before he left, he went back and pulled the book from the garbage. He set it back on the table and walked out.
TBC..........
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By Slayne
11/19/02--- I revised and edited this whole story after learning of some military errors I made in it. My older stories will be left as is, but I decided to change this one. I'm still learning, but I do strive to be as military-accurate as my current knowledge and G.I. Joe will allow!
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
Wayne's muscles tensed almost painfully as Alison's fingers ran down his chest and over his stomach. She was whispering in his ear, telling him how much she wanted him and then her mouth was pressing to his throat, then up to his lips as her hands slid beneath the waist of the belted camo pants he wore, her fingertips tickling his spine. He kissed her with vigor, tasting her with relish, sliding his arms around her narrow waist and pressing her hard against him. Her mouth was sweet and warm and he wanted her badly. Her fingernails ran up his back, making his jaw clench...and he suddenly woke from the dream into the darkness of his room.
He stared up at the ceiling for a moment, slowly coming to the realization that none of it had been real. His breath was hard and sweat ran down his face and chest. His body was almost painfully tight. He sat up slowly and buried his face in his hands. Jesus Christ.
He swung his legs over the side of the bed and sat there for a long moment, trying to relax and picking over the details of the vivid dream. His growing attraction to the young Corporal was disturbing him intensely...and yet his mind wanted to remember every detail of that dream...and store it away for future perusal. Anger boiled up inside of him again. What the hell was so special about her that she could splinter his rigid self- discipline like this? He glanced at the clock and saw it was oh four hundred. He pulled on his sweat-soaked fatigues from the day before and strapped a shoulder holster on with his .45. He might as well go for a run; he needed to clear his mind.
He ran steadily down the narrow dirt path surrounding the camp. It was still dark, but the moon was bright now and easily lit the way along with several well-placed lights equipped with motion sensors. The dream seemed to have pushed his denial away with waking and he finally allowed himself to accept the fact that he was very attracted to Alison Hart-Burnett. She was beautiful, intelligent, capable and as driven as he was in some respects. Despite the differences in their backgrounds...they were very similar, he realized. She had all the qualities he admired in a woman...and in another soldier. He wondered briefly what she would do if he told her about his feelings. His feelings. How had he let himself fall into this? Anger welled up inside of him. It seemed to always be present inside of him these days. He'd had his priorities straight before Corporal Burnett had appeared in his life.
Well, it didn't matter. He wouldn't tell her while she was his recruit. It seemed like failing her in the worst possible way to even consider it. Maybe after the camp was done, and they were both enlisted soldiers at different bases? Maybe she could get to know him better, away from all the rank and protocol. Long distance relationships worked pretty well for him. Maybe not.
He went through the rest of the day and then the week with an eye towards the female Corporal. His acceptance of his situation did not mean he wasn't angry with himself for falling into it. And that anger stretched to cover Burnett as well. He was aware in some sense that she had done nothing to cause him to feel this way, but it didn't matter. He ran her ragged. He leapt to confront each mistake with a new ferocity that had her gritting her teeth in effort. He didn't let up and sometimes he kept her after everyone was dismissed, making her atone for any error in judgment by doing push-ups or running laps. At night, he joined Will and Brad in the beer hall and smiled at Will's exuberant praise for the way he was handling her. She'd be gone any day now...Will was sure of it. Wayne...did not agree with that. He knew she'd stay, no matter how intolerable things became for her. Somehow...where once that had filled him with a deep sense of respect for her, it now just pissed him off. Brad's disapproving glares made him feel like shit though. He fixed that by avoiding the other Staff Sergeant when at all possible.
Burnett hadn't questioned his newly found aggression towards her. It wasn't as if he were taking it easy on the others. He'd had more than one of them out here beside her in the evenings, but he'd caught her confused and wondering glance more than a few times. That had actually sent a prickle of fear through him.
He didn't realize how intolerable he had made things for her until the end of the week. He had her on the ground doing push-ups again in the growing darkness. It was pouring rain over them both. Wayne shouted at the Corporal as her arms trembled from the effort and upper body strength it took to complete the push-ups. He heard her voice faintly through the rain. At first he thought she was counting, because of the rhythm of the words, and then he heard her say an actual word and he frowned.
"Speak up if you have something to say, Corporal!"
She rested briefly, her forehead down against the muddy ground as she breathed heavily and stayed silent.
"Out with it...NOW, Corporal! And I didn't tell you to stop those push- ups! You should be a pro at this by now."
She pushed herself up into position again and her trembling arms lowered her down and then pushed her back up again. Her voice came through the noise of the rain softly but clearly.
"Accuse me thus...that I have scanted all...Wherein I should your great... deserts repay...Forgot upon your dearest... love to call...Whereto all bonds. do tie me day by. day:" Her labored breath made the quantrains choppy and rough.
He was silent as he stared down at her. She struggled to push herself up and down and her hair clung, drenched, to the sides of her head and streamed water into her face and off her chin and nose to the muddy ground beneath her. The muscles in her back were tense with effort and she went to her knees to do push-ups in the 'girl's' style. He caught a brief glimpse of her face as she chanted out the words from between gritted teeth. Her eyes were squeezed closed.
"And on...just proof surmise...accumulate...Bring me...within the level of your...frown...But shoot...not at me in your...waken'd hate...Since...m-my appeal...says I did...did strive...to...to p- prove..."
"Stop." He said it quietly. Too quietly for her to hear over the driving rain. Almost too quietly for his own ears. He was angry with himself...not her. What the hell was he doing? This was just as bad as giving her preferential treatment.
"The...c-constancy and...virtue...of y-your...love."
"Stop Burnett! It's enough."
She hesitated and glanced up at him. He met her eyes then glanced away. The rain poured down through his hair and ran over his soaked clothes. She brought her legs underneath her and slowly stood.
"You can stop. It's enough. I...I'm..." He couldn't say anymore and she swallowed and looked uneasily at him. "Get some rest." He managed before turning to walk away from her as fast as his dignity would allow.
"I'm sorry you don't like me very much, Staff." she said before he had gone very far. He hesitated without turning around, a cold knife stabbing through his chest. She continued. "But I'm not leaving this camp..."
"Good...Then there's hope for you yet." He replied and hurried off. The incident would stay with him for a long time. Even after the camp was long over.
He managed to put it out of his mind for the duration of the camp. There was one week left now, and the recruits could see the light at the end of the tunnel. He had fallen back to his old self and stayed away from the nighttime chats with Will and Brad. He concentrated on the final tests that would determine the 'winners' of this camp. No one would likely be cut or quit now, and all would likely make it through the final three-day test in one fashion or another, but he'd have to judge them all fairly.
Five days out from the end, they gave the recruits an easy day and let them hit their bunks early. Wayne turned down Brad's offer of a drink and went back to his quarters. He stripped off his shirt and stretched out on his bed in his camo pants and boots. As much as he loved all of this, it was exhausting. He had to keep up with the others and show no weakness. He was in the prime of his life, but he could feel himself breaking down just like they were. He was laying on his bed, his back propped against the wall, reading a book when Will came through his door without knocking.
"Hey...What the hell are you doing?" Will stared at him in disbelief.
Wayne looked up over the small paperback and met the Major's eyes. "It's called reading, bonehead...you should try it sometime."
Will ignored the 'bonehead' comment. He stared at the elaborate script on the cover of the book. "What the hell are you reading?"
Wayne shut the book and threw it on the table next to the bed. "It's Shakespeare...I'm sure you never read it."
"Is it good?"
"It's ok...what do you want, Will?" His voice held an edge of impatience to it. He was still trying to understand what she saw in that book. What gave her such strength? He wasn't seeing it.
"We need to map out the final three days..." He was interrupted as shouting began outside, and both men leapt up and went running into the yard. Through the yelling of the soldiers on guard duty, there were gunshots. Everyone was pouring into the open now and Will took over instantly, grabbing Wayne and motioning him to follow. Through the confusion, they managed to figure out that three men had attacked the MP on night watch and tried to break into the ammo shed. The MP was shot through the upper arm, but otherwise ok. Will immediately began securing the camp and giving everyone a job. He sent Wayne, Brad and one of the older, less annoying Lieutenants out after the three guerillas and posted the recruits into watch duty.
Knowing time was incredibly important in apprehending the small band of men, Wayne joined Brad to pick up a rifle, pulled the mask on that Brad threw him, and the three of them headed out of the camp. They knew which way the guerillas would go. They all went the same way. The Lieutenant proved himself even less annoying than originally anticipated, when he actually contributed something useful to the mission and listened intently to everything Brad and Wayne had to say. They found the men within a half hour and managed to take two of them into custody without a shot being fired. The two gave up instantly with three M-16's trained on them, but the third pulled his gun and somehow got away into the jungle. Wayne went after him, leaving Brad and the LT to deal with the two captured subjects.
Wayne tracked the third steadily and carefully. The man couldn't get away, and would doubtlessly realize this eventually and try to ambush him. He walked down the bare dirt path that wound its way south. Despite its obvious visibility, it would make much less noise to walk on a cleared path rather than in the brush. It was barely the width of one foot though, and the trees and brush grew heavily up to it. As he got further from the confrontation site, the jungle grew quieter, and he moved slower. Every sense he had was open wide and attuned to the smallest detail of his surroundings. Every problem and stress he had receded and became unimportant. Everything else in his life dropped away in deference to the intensity of this moment. His fatigue disappeared and new energy filled him. It was always like that. He could die in an instant right now. Survival was the only important thing. It overwhelmed everything else. He let it consume him.
He edged forward, then sank down on his heels and listened. The insects were even quiet. The guy was close. He felt the insects settle on his bare torso and begin to bite. He didn't move. He waited...hearing nothing. Then...the smallest snap of a branch. His eyes slid left, but he didn't move. The insects to his left began whirring then became silent....then whirred again briefly and became silent. Wayne slowly turned left. He could hear his own breathing. Then...he heard someone else's. He watched as the third man came into view. The man held a rifle out in front of himself and crept up to a tangle of bushes next to the trail and then peered back up it in the direction of the base. Wayne stared at him with tunnel vision. He raised his rifle and aimed directly at the man's head. He slowly stood, keeping his sights locked on the man.
"Rendirse! Ponga las manos arriba!" He barked out and watched as the man whirled around and stared at him. The man glared and yelled in Spanish while Wayne shouted again for him to surrender. The man jerked his gun up...and Wayne shot him.
The man dropped like a ton of bricks and lay still. Wayne approached him slowly then saw the man was obviously dead. He'd taken the bullet to the face and his eyes hadn't even closed. Wayne let out a deep breath and stared down at him for a moment. He wasn't impervious to the sad fact that most of the villagers around here were too poor to resist the armies of the drug lords. They offered small salaries, but the villagers most often ended up in the front lines against police and foreign armies. But...when it came down to kill or be killed...Wayne would never have a doubt as to which path he would take. He slung the rifle onto his back and reached down to heft the man up over his shoulder and carry him down the path.
He dragged the man into the camp a few hours later. Brad had met him on the path and took his gun from him, helping him drag the dead man. Will met them as they stood on the edge of camp and shook his head at Wayne.
"Christ, Staff! I should have known...the LT said you went after a guy who got away."
"I shouted at him to surrender. He tried to shoot me."
"Understood." He stared down at the body and sighed. This would mean questions and investigation, but it had happened before. It would be routine.
Wayne stood tiredly and pulled the mask from his head, stuffing it in the cargo pocket of his pants. When he looked up, he saw Corporal Burnett standing in the small group surrounding him. Her eyes met his and she was looking at him with a wide-eyed expression that he didn't like. He glanced down and realized he had blood smeared on his bare chest and arms from the dead man at his feet. He walked forward through the group and he met her eyes with a steely coldness.
"Get used to it, Burnett. You wanted to be Covert-Ops...well, this is part of it."
She said nothing, but she stepped back as he passed as if not wanting him too close to her. That sent a pang of...something through him. Was that the way people viewed him? But of course, that's what he really wanted anyway...wasn't it? The fact that he was questioning things about himself that he thought he had set into stone long ago pissed him off. He stalked into his quarters and took the book from the table and threw it forcefully into the bathroom garbage can. Then he took a shower and washed the blood from himself, cursing himself for not putting a shirt on before he went after the men. It was never wise to get someone else's blood on you. When he was dried and re-dressed, he stood before the mirror and stared at himself in it. The army had trained him to be a highly efficient killer...and that was something he had been proud of. Should he be? He shook his head and stared into his own brown eyes in the mirror. He stood silent and thinking for a long moment and then clicked off the light. He'd have to go back and give his story to Will right now. He was surprised Will wasn't at his door yet, yelling. He began to walk out the door, and then he hesitated. Before he left, he went back and pulled the book from the garbage. He set it back on the table and walked out.
TBC..........
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