Chapter Two

Duthie Pacol was confused. Confused and wary and exhausted, and if he hadn't been so overwhelmed by everything, he would probably have started to doubt the wisdom of his decision. Not that he'd had much of a choice, but still...had he been given the time, he would have started to question the whole thing by now.

As things were, the psychologists that had been assigned to his case were very well aware of this, and had absolutely no intentions of taking that risk. Their orders were clear - the Jackals were needed soon, and if Duthie couldn't handle the pressure, they had to know immediately, while they still had time to find someone else.

There was no guarantee that he could handle it just because he passed their evaluations, but it still provided a good insight into his mind, and more importantly it gave them the opportunity to look for any signs of potential weakness or impending mental breakdown. And evaluations like those worked especially well when the patient in question had not yet had the time to adapt to his surroundings.

Duthie sighed and curled up on the chair, muscles already beginning to complain from the time he'd spent sitting in the otherwise empty room. He wasn't sure how long he'd been - he'd arrived at the base before noon, and it had taken perhaps half an hour to get his new equipment and a quick tour of the place, which would probably have made it noon by the time he'd been left with these people, but...it didn't really help much. Nobody had told him what time it was, and the room had no windows to give any indication of the time of day. Evening, maybe? He was certainly getting hungry...and tired. Early night?

He made a small, frustrated sound. Being stuck there was driving him nuts. The doctors had show up occasionally, asked some questions, made some notes and then left, leaving Duthie seemingly alone once more. But only seemingly. They were still watching, he knew that. He'd been able to hear them occasionally, taking outside the door, voices just low enough to make the words impossible to make out, and he was pretty sure that the large mirror on one of the walls wasn't just for decoration. They had watched his every move since he arrived, and he didn't like the thought at all.

Another small sound and he shifted again, growing increasingly restless. He was bored. Bored and tired and hungry and confused, and why did he have to be stuck here, when-

He looked up as the door opened, revealing not a doctor but instead the soldier that had greeted him when he'd arrived.

Duthie frowned, trying to remember the name through the exhaustion he felt. Bencraft...? Bancroft. Right.

More movement at the door, and one of the psychologists stepped into the room as well, sparing Duthie only the briefest of looks before he turned his attention to the soldier instead, a frown visible on his face.

"I can't say I agree with this, major - he passed all the initial evaluations, but we need more time if we want to make sure he can handle it," the doctor said, gesturing at the papers in his hand. "We don't know if-"

"Orders are orders, doctor. We need him now," Bancroft disagreed. "If he breaks, we'll find out."

The doctor obviously didn't agree with the situation, but he nodded anyway. "All right...I'll have someone leave his equipment at the barracks." Another brief look at the boy, then a shrug. "He's all yours, major."

Duthie perked up at the possibility of getting out of this place, but didn't say anything, remembering all too well how intimidating the major had been earlier.

The man sent Duthie a look, mentally assessing his condition. "Get moving, recruit. We have a job to do."

There was no hint of emotions in the words, just a brief, curt order, but it was more than enough to make Duthie get out of the chair immediately. "Yes, sir."

He followed the major out of the door, down the hallway, and was oddly relieved as he looked back and found that the doctor hadn't followed them. They might just be doing their jobs, but that didn't mean he had to like them.

The major sent the boy a brief look, easily guessing his thoughts. "Did they pull any mindgames with you, kid?"

Duthie frowned. "No, sir...well, I don't think so, sir," he quickly corrected. He wasn't sure about much of the stuff they'd asked him about, so who knew what they'd been doing with his head? He certainly didn't.

The hallway finally came to an end and they stepped out the door, into the crisp air of the night, a faint breeze sending goose bumps across his skin and made him acutely aware of the fact that his new jacket was with the rest of his stuff in...wherever they were going to dump him.

He sighed as he realized yet another thing - he didn't know where he was. The van had been completely closed, the windows covered by black paint, and...they'd driven around for hours. This could be anywhere.

Duthie hesitated for a moment, then look at the man beside him. "Sir?" the other looked at him, and Duthie continued. "Excuse me for asking, but...where are we, sir?"

"You'll find out when you need to, recruit," Bancroft replied dismissively, and the boy fell silent once more. He didn't want to push his luck, not with this guy. He might not be very old, and he might not be the most responsible person on the planet, but he did have some survival instincts, and right now they told him to shut up and do as he was told for just once in his life.

He followed the other silently, in his exhaustion not really noticing their surroundings until they stopped in front of one of the many barracks in the area. Bancroft stepped inside, and Duthie hesitated for a brief second before following, not quite sure about this at all.

----------

Lacee looked up as the door opened, vaguely aware that her two teammates did the same thing. They were used to getting strange orders, and this whole deal most definitely belonged in that category. Unlike most of the soldiers on the base, they'd been granted a certain freedom - nobody told them when to go to sleep, for one, and while they had to wear military clothing, uniform had never been a requirement. The only thing they didn't really have any control of was the time they had to get up, mainly because of the rather unpleasant training their major insisted on dragging them through every morning.

So being told around midnight that they couldn't go to sleep just yet had been odd. Having to wait for another couple of hours while nothing happened had been even stranger. Lacee had been tempted to head to bed anyway, just to make a point, but curiosity had made her stay. After two months of boredom, she'd take whatever entertainment she could get.

Major Bancroft stepped into the man room, followed by a smaller figure, and Lacee blinked. Honestly, she'd thought Raine had exaggerated about their new teammate, and hey, she herself would probably have done the same things. Finding that she hadn't exaggerated one bit was...

Damn.

Lacee watched the boy carefully and realized that Raine's analysis had been spot-on. Small kid...fragile, too. Very femme, very...

Weak.

Lacee frowned at the word, but had to admit that it was true. The boy looked weak - why he'd been picked, she didn't know, but there was no way he'd last. It would be a miracle if he survived even the first mission.

She exchanged a brief look with Harry, and to those who know what to look for, it was obvious that he agreed completely with her assessment of the new kid. He wouldn't last. No way.

Bancroft sent them a long look, silently daring any of them to comment, then motioned for Duthie to step forward

"Jackals, meet Duthie Pacol, your new teammate. Duthie - this is your new team. I suggest you get to know them."

Duthie shifted uneasily, uncomfortable with the sudden attention, and Lacee exchanged another quick look with Harry.

"Sir?" she asked, looking at Bancroft. "Was that the only reason why we had to stay up and wait for hours?" Even though she tried to keep her voice neutral, a hint of her annoyance still slipped through, earning her a reprimanding look from the man before he put a stack of files on the table.

"No, private, it wasn't. You just got your new mission. Be ready to leave tomorrow at eighteen-hundred hours."

"This soon? But we just got the-"

Another look from the major, and Lacee fell silent again, although clearly not liking the situation at all.

"Yes, private, this soon. You're professionals - I suggest you start to act like it."

Lacee sighed, but didn't argue further. "Yes, Sir," she replied, although with obvious reluctance, and Bancroft waited for another moment before turning to the others.

"Any questions?" Only silence greeted his words, and he nodded slowly. "Good. Dismissed."