Brad sat in his full gear, the butt of his rifle planted between his feet as he rested his head on a tent pole with his eyes closed. He could hear Krum and Cedric pacing back and forth nervously. Fleur was sitting on the other side of the tent from Brad, looking a little pale and occupying herself by fidgeting with her wand.
He heard someone approaching and opened his eyes. Cedric was standing before him, chewing on the inside of his lip with a worried look.
"You don't look too worried." Cedric said. Brad lifted his head and rolled his shoulders, trying to shift his plate carrier from where it was rubbing obnoxiously against his neck.
"I'm scared shitless," Brad admitted calmly. Krum stopped pacing and Fleur looked at him, but he ignored them both. "But dwelling on it isn't gonna get me anywhere."
"Huh." Cedric clearly didn't expect that answer and it did little to alleviate the stress.
"Just focus on what's next, man." Brad had been given the same advice by Instructor Martinez back when he was fourteen years old and waiting for the C-130 to open its bay door for his first live parachute jump.
The secret to courage was that everyone was scared. Anyone who said otherwise was either lying to you or to themselves, and both lies were dangerous. Courageous and brave soldiers weren't fearless, they just chose to act through the fear.
"Chunk things off," he continued. "Put things into manageable, bite-sized pieces. You don't need to win the tournament right here and now. Just wait till the judges get here. Then, all you have to do is listen to them. Then, make it out of the tent. Then, whatever we're supposed to do next. The important thing is to keep going."
"Right, thanks," Cedric nodded his head and paced over to an empty chair to sit. Krum nodded a moment and then turned back to his brief pacing routine while Fleur, who had been watching him as well turned back to her wand.
The tent flap opened and everyone turned to look. It was just Harry. He crossed the open space and sat next to Brad, pulling out his wand and handing it to the operator.
"Try not to break it," Harry said. It felt wrong somehow, not having his wand on him. Brad took it, looked at it a moment, and then slid it into a pouch on his plate carrier.
"I'll get it back to you in one piece." Brad agreed. They sat there, silently for a moment before Bagman burst into the tent.
"Oh, everyone's here, wonderful!" he said, rubbing his hands together excitedly. Brad stood up, pulling the rifle up with him and clipping the butt to a sling on his harness. Afterward, it hung comfortably in front of him and he rested his arm on it.
Fleur and Cedric stood simultaneously and everyone naturally drifted toward Bagman. He smiled at each of them.
"I suppose I can start telling you," he turned his head back to the tent flap and craned his neck, presumably looking for the judges. Brad couldn't tell if he was talking to them in spite of the judges being absent or because of it. "In a few moments, Mr. Crouch is going to come in with a bag. Inside the bag will be models of the very things you will face!" He seemed hardly able to contain himself.
There was a shifting of what sounded like heavy chains outside on the other side of the tent, toward where the cacophonous sound of cheering students had been resonating from. The cheering turned into gasps of surprise for a moment and every head in the tent turned as a loud roar sounded nearby. Brad couldn't help thinking that it sounded exactly how he imagined a large dinosaur would sound.
Am I fighting a fucking dinosaur? Was that even possible? He wasn't sure. Every time he turned around, magic presented him with something new and surprising. He'd almost finished convincing himself that he was going to have to square off against a T-Rex when Bagman continued.
"If they don't give the surprise away first, that is," he muttered. "Anyhow, there's a golden egg. Your task is simply to retrieve the golden egg."
Great. Steal an egg from a dinosaur. Piece of cake. He probably should have put that M203 grenade launcher on his rifle, though. He thought for a moment, remembering that they'd put several M3A1 Carl Gustav recoilless rifles in the OCDS satellite.
He pulled up the wrist computer and looked at the location of the satellite. Lady luck was shining down on him. It was in a really good position to get him equipment right now. He ordered the system to load up the M3A1 and prepare it for delivery. He wouldn't order it until he was in the field, but the load up took time he didn't want to wait.
The tent flap opened again and Mr. Crouch, complete with expected bag, and the rest of the school heads filed in.
"Gather around me," Mr. Crouch announced. The champions complied, each of them drifting near the head of their school. "Now, outside there-"
"I couldn't help myself," Bagman cut in. "I already told them about the eggs." Crouch glared at his Ministry counterpart, but continued.
"Very well," he sighed. "Miss Delacour, you first." He held the bag out to her and she swallowed hard. Smoke was puffing from the open bag and she hesitantly reached in. She pulled out a small, moving model of a…
Motherfucker, it was a dragon. Not just a damned dinosaur, a fire-breathing dinosaur. Shit.
"The Welsh Green, very good," Crouch said, turning the bag to Victor Krum. The champion didn't hesitate, he plunged his hand into the bag and Crouch had to fight to keep the bag from slipping from his fingers. He pulled out his dragon. "Ah, the Chinese Fireball."
Cedric smiled wryly as the bag was opened in front of him. He pulled his dragon out of the bag and Crouch looked at it. "The Swedish Short-Snout, hmm." Crouch now had an almost sorrowful look as he held the bag open for Brad. That didn't bode well.
Brad reached in and felt small claws dig into his shooting gloves and pulled his hand out. His dragon looked mean. The other dragons looked...well, like dragons. His looked like something that had evolved to kill. There were horns and barbs all over the dragon, including a large spiked tail. "The Hungarian Horntail."
The operator pushed down the thoughts in his head that told him he couldn't handle this. They waited in the edges of his mind, ready to strike if he gave them the opportunity. He forced the thoughts aside and focused on Crouch.
"Mr. Diggory, you'll be first. At the sound of the cannon, retrieve your egg," Mr. Crouch said. Cedric nodded but looked like he was dazed. Brad elbowed him and got his attention.
"Chunk it, bro. You got this." It made him feel better too, giving advice to help someone. Cedric nodded again, more confident this time. Crouch assigned the places of the others. Fleur was second, then Krum, and finally Brad.
Brad sighed when he found out he'd be last. He preferred to get his shit done. Stewing and waiting was a pain, but he supposed if anyone was going to perform well after listening to several dragon battles, it would be him.
Cedric crossed to the other side of the tent as the Judges left, off to their podium from which they would observe the competition. It seemed like a long wait until, finally, BOOM! At the sound of the cannon, he hesitated for a moment, then exited the tent.
Brad went back to his seat, closing his eyes and resting his head against the tent pole. Krum paced around the tent again and Fleur, not having moved since the judges left, finally sat down again. It was maddening.
Through the tent they could hear eruptions of cheering, gasps of concern or awe...to top it off, Bagman was narrating his thoughts on the event, though not sharing anything that could be useful. Mostly they were simple comments.
"Ooh, he almost had it there!"
"Careful!"
"Wow, it almost got him there!"
That continued for fifteen minutes until finally there was an uproar unlike anything before it. Even Bagman cheered. Cedric had finished, had gotten his egg. Brad opened his eyes and saw Fleur stand up. She was close enough to him that he could see her chin was trembling and her knuckles were white as she gripped her wand tightly.
"If he could do it, you can," Brad said. She looked him in the eye for the first time in a very long time. He could see the fear in her eyes, but there was determination there too. She stood a little taller and when the cannon sounded, she stepped out of the tent without hesitation.
He was surprised to find that he had a harder time relaxing while she was out there battling her dragon. She'd only just exited the tent when there were gasps of surprise from the crowd and Bagman shouted "Oh no!"
Brad had started leaning forward, for the briefest moment ready to charge out there and assist. He caught himself before he could even lift out of the chair and wondered at himself. What was it about her that caused him to lose his mind.
She was out there for ten minutes before the same cheer erupted from the crowd, the cheer of people watching a victory. Two down, one to go. Then it was his turn.
Krum, already familiar with competition nerves, stood by the opening of the tent and waited for his turn. He turned to Brad. "Good luck." Krum said just before the cannon sounded. Krum left Brad alone in the tent.
As the cheering increased, Brad stood up and began stretching his legs. He was nervous as hell. Fighting a dragon, they were sure starting things off strong. He flexed his fingers, opening his hands and balling them into fists over and over.
Images kept flashing into his head. His flesh burning as he tried to exit the tent, missing shots and hitting someone in the crowd, being eaten alive…every worst-case scenario flashed through his brain. Well, that shit wasn't helping. He forced the thoughts aside by running something comforting through his mind.
Recognizing that I volunteered as a Ranger, fully knowing the hazards of my chosen profession, I will always endeavor to uphold the prestige, honor, and high esprit-de-corps of my Ranger Regiment.
He wasn't an Army Ranger, but he was trained by a number of them and the Ranger Creed had always resonated with him. He felt his pulse slow a little and his breathing return to a more reasonable rate.
Acknowledging the fact that a Ranger is a more elite Soldier who arrives at the cutting edge of battle by land, sea, or air, I accept the fact that as a Ranger my country expects me to move further, faster and fight harder than any other Soldier.
Another cheer as Krum battled his dragon. Bagman shouted some words of encouragement to the Champion.
Never shall I fail my comrades. I will always keep myself mentally alert, physically strong, and morally straight and I will shoulder more than my share of the task, whatever it may be, one hundred percent and then some.
A round of gasps and oohs. Krum made some kind of slip. Bagman's words got faster and more excited until the crowd erupted in cheers and applause.
Gallantly will I show the world that I am a specially selected and well-trained Soldier. My courtesy to superior officers, neatness of dress, and care of equipment shall set the example for others to follow.
Brad looked down at his HK416, racking a round into the chamber. He took a deep breath, shouldered the weapon at low ready and stepped to the end of the tent.
Energetically will I meet the enemies of my country. I shall defeat them on the field of battle for I am better trained and will fight with all my might. Surrender is not a Ranger word. I will never leave a fallen comrade to fall into the hands of the enemy and under no circumstances will I ever embarrass my country.
Brad waited, ready to call that M3A1 and haul ass out of the tent. His breathing was even and his mind was focused. It was time to fight.
Readily will I display the intestinal fortitude required to fight on to the Ranger objective and complete the mission, though I be the lone survivor. Rangers Lead The Way!
The heavy thump of the cannon sounded and Brad tapped the screen of his SOLDA. ETA for his weapon, four minutes. He raised the barrel of his rifle and burst out of the tent.