CHAPTER 4
Identity and Selection
1
FOUR YEARS AGO
Ryan Perreault, along with over 80 other recruits, sat on a series of benches waiting for an introduction. All the recruits wore their ACU Digital pattern BDU uniforms including their caps with an insignia pinned on the front of them. It's nearly the beginning of summer, so the weather is getting hot in the North Carolina landscapes. Most of the recruits are getting warm due to their heavy uniforms and inability to roll up the sleeves.
A tall stern-looking man stood in front of the group. He wore Oakley sunglasses, a nearly pressed BDU uniform, and two silver bars pinned on his cap, ranking him as a Captain. Unlike Sergeant Davis that Ryan met earlier, this Captain does not look like he would be making friends with. What was worse was that the name tape on the Captain's uniform's breast has been removed. No one knew his name for, in a way, he does not exist.
"Welcome, gentlemen," the Captain announced, not sounding so pleased. "I assumed you are the unlucky ones who passed through the preparation course. Of course, you boys were aware that the preparation course will not guarantee you'll pass what you're about to go through. Now for the bad news. In the next 24 days, the instructor staff and I will mentally and physically bring out your stress limits and break you down. If you can handle it, you may proceed, but when you cannot, you'll go home. Gentlemen, welcome to Assessment and Selection!"
Ryan sat there with the other recruits scared. Not only was this Captain scary, but he noticed the several men behind him looks unfriendly as well. The men standing behind the Captain looked to be Master Sergeants or Sergeant Majors. It is hard to tell what their rank is from a distance, but he can tell these guys have had more experience than his own age.
At the same time, Ryan was pleased to finally be here. He felt giddy like his first day at Civil Air Patrol. He was proud to be wearing a uniform and performing military-like tasks with those who are just like him.
"First off, I will explain to you about how much you won't pass. To those who don't know Sergeant Max Corsair, he came here in my regiment years ago. Corsair was 3rd Infantry, 10th Mountain, 82nd Airborne, and a 75th Ranger. Sergeant Major, tell us what happened to Corsair."
One of the Sergeants behind the Captain, a tall six foot five black man, mostly muscle, stood up and stared right at the recruits. He bore no sunglasses, because his own stair could bring even a mighty man to his knees.
"Corsair was shut out of this program after two days!" the Sergeant Major announced in a booming voice.
"Thank you, Sergeant Major," the Captain said kindly to him. First time the Captain used his normal-speaking voice. He turned back to the recruits. "I cannot guarantee you boys will pass this course, but I will say this. I see 80 of you, and I will guarantee that no more than eight of you will pass. You know what, if ten of you pass, I'll dress up like Bambi on graduation. Hell, if over 20 of you pass, I'll dress up like Bambi's mother! But only time will tell. We will test your skills to the max. We will break you down and make you cry. To those of you think this program is such a joke may leave now, you're not welcomed here. Anyone?"
No one answered, either everyone took the drill seriously or was too scared to answer.
"Well, we'll see now, won't we," the Captain announced. "Alright, report to the supply tent, grab your gear, and report to your barracks for inspection. Dismissed."
Ryan Perreault did as he was told, along with the other recruits as well. Instead of walking, they all made a massive run toward the large tent where their gear is waiting for them. Today begins Ryan's worst three and a half weeks of his life. However, at the same time, they will be the most rewarding weeks of his life.
2
PRESENT DAY
Deep in the metallic city of Robotropolis lays an underground base. The entrance looks like a large basement bulkhead and the interior looks like that of a mansion. Due to it being underground, there are no windows thus it looks like night under there 24/7.
Right next to the door, three blurs made a screeching stop. Sonic had a grip on Ryan's arms, which had his arms around Sonic like a bear hug.
"Okay, we're here," Sonic told their new visitor. To their surprise, Ryan stood up and shook some dust off of him. He seems to have been unaffected by Sonic's speed. Sonia and Manic remember the first time they were carried by Sonic while going at high speed. Both felt like they were going to be sick. As time passed, the two siblings got used to the feeling. Ryan, however, showed no effects to the high-speed blast.
"Wow, this is a nice home you guys got here," Ryan said admiring the layout. Manic, who seemed oblivious to Ryan's unaffectedness to the speed, walked next to Ryan and took his hand.
"Wait until you see how cool it looks on the inside," Manic told Ryan. The green hedgehog with the spiky hairdo led Ryan in the front door. Sonic and Sonia, still shocked by Ryan's strength, followed in.
Inside, Ryan released Manic's hand and gazed at the interior. He has seen this building before many times on the show, but was never actually inside of it.
"Wow, this is amazing," Ryan said in a gasp.
"Ain't it, bud?" Sonic asked.
"So, Ryan, you mentioned that we are part of a show?" Sonia asked. Ryan nodded in reply.
"It's a long story," Ryan said.
"Night's still young," Manic told him. It was true. Ryan was considered a night-owl and did most of his work at night. Ryan was led by Manic to a couch. He expected it to be hard as a rock and immobile, but instead the cushions actually formed around the shape of Ryan as he sat down.
"Well, you see, it's like this," Ryan began to explain, hunched over and fingers interlocked with each other. "On Earth, we have a cartoon called 'Sonic Underground' and you three are the stars of it. In fact, you three are the only ones to appear in all 40 episodes. Well, there are 25 episodes that were never dubbed in English."
"You mean this is a cartoon show?" Manic asked in shock.
"Well, not right this second, no, but most of your adventures are. And because of that, I know quite a bit about your histories. You three were born to a mother named Queen Aleena. After birth, Sonic was raised with mountain folks for years before being raised by Uncle Chuck. Sonia, you were raised by an aristocrat, and Manic, you were stolen by a guy named Farrell, thus explaining your thieving skills," Ryan explained to them. The three hedgehogs nodded in shock knowing he was right. "Anyway, it was a television cartoon that only ran for 40 episodes before getting cancelled, which was a disappointment."
"Oh, why did we get cancelled?" Sonic asked.
"Low ratings I assume. You see, your show's target audience was for seven-year-olds, but the only ones who actually watched your show are loyal Sonic fans, whom are all 15 to 20-year olds, including me. The audience wasn't aimed right, I guess," Ryan explained with a chuckle.
"That still doesn't explain how you got here," Sonic interrogated, but Sonia nudged him angrily.
"Sonic!" Sonia yelled. Ryan laughed at that.
"Relax, I had a whole lot worse done at me," Ryan told them. "I didn't choose to come here. I mean, I didn't even know it was possible. Sleet and Dingo kidnapped me and brought me here. They mentioned something about me being the first human to be robotosized. So, I had to escape. I was hoping to meet up with you guys, and I did."
"Which leads me to my next question," Sonic said suspiciously.
"Sonic!" Sonia grunted.
"No, it's alright, ask away," Ryan said looking at Sonic.
"I saw how you fought those SWAT Bots. And you, a regular human, has been able to escape from Robotnik's complex. Even us hedgehogs have a hard time accomplishing something like that," Sonic said to Ryan.
"What's your point?" Ryan asked.
"We actually read your file. You are in the United States Army, right?" Sonic asked.
"Of course," Ryan told him.
"How can a simple aircraft mechanic perform such tasks?" Sonic asked him. In response, Ryan fell off the couch laughing. The three hedgehogs stared at him as he rolled on his back in a burst of laughter. As soon as Ryan got back on his feet, he explained the truth to them.
"You guys got that file, too!" Ryan said in chuckles. "Robotnik thinks I'm an aircraft mechanic and so do you guys! Oh, man, dudes, the truth is, I never touched an engine in my life."
"But your file says—" Manic began to say.
"That was a mock file," Ryan confessed. With that, Sonic, Sonia, and Manic grew shocked hearing that. "That's right. That file and everything mentioned in it, besides the fact that I am U.S. Army, was false. It's a cover-up to hide my true identity and profession in case it slipped in the wrong hands. And you guys, as well as Robotnik, got my fake file as well."
"Are you saying you're not an aircraft mechanic?" Manic asked after a slight pause. Ryan shook his head still smiling. Thoughts were going through the three hedgehog's heads. First, they heard he wiped out a SWAT Bot squad, escaped from Robotnik's fortress, and even engaged in a firefight against SWAT Bots. At the same time, Ryan had shown little to no side-effects by being dragged by Sonic's high speed. This is not stuff that an aircraft mechanic is trained to do.
"Ryan," Sonic began to ask, "what are you?"
3
Back in the building of Robotropolis, Robotnik and Dingo are angry that Ryan escaped.
"I can't believe it. I sent my best SWAT Bots and still he got away. The hedgehogs would've had a tough time in this situation, but just a regular guy?!" Robotnik yelled.
"Well, maybe he's a super mutant," Dingo said stupidly.
"Dingo, he is no superman," Robotnik replied.
Upon Robotnik saying that, Sleet walked in angrily with a thick folder titled 'Perreault, Ryan'. The front of the folder has the Department of the United States Army seal on it.
"He's no Superman, but he's close to one," Sleet said angrily.
"Oh good, you got the man's profile," Robotnik said happily.
"Oh, he's more than some aircraft mechanic," Sleet said, "I didn't find his profile in Feeding Hills Town Hall, I found it at the Pentagon in Washington, D.C.!"
"What?" Dingo asked. Sleet opened up the folder and tossed to Robotnik.
Robotnik took the thick folder and, cautiously as if it was a bomb, slowly fingered through to the first page. Immediately, he was stunned to see Ryan's true job profession. At the same time, it explains everything so well.
4
Sonic, Sonia, and Manic stared at Ryan with eyes open wide, jaws dropped, and limbs dangling off of their torsos. Ryan, after confessing them what his true profession was, stood there smiling and enjoying the looks on their faces. It was all silent until Sonia spoke up; repeating the same thing Ryan just told them seconds ago.
"Special Forces?!" Sonia shouted in shock.
Ryan, unaffected by Sonia's loud shout, just folded his arm across his chest and nodded.
"Dude, you're a Green Beret?" Manic asked in a normal tone. In this situation, Ryan would have told them that a Green Beret is the headwear. United States Army Special Forces is the true title to the unit. Ryan would be considered as a Special Forces Operator, not a Green Beret. However, to prevent confusion over a common term, Ryan nodded to Manic's question.
"That's right," Ryan replied. "I am a Green Beret. I assume you know about them?"
"Oh yeah," Sonia said. "We know a lot about stuff on Earth. This is amazing, guys; we got a real life Green Beret in our home!"
"It was an insane bitch to become one. I had to leave my family for 60 weeks to endure that harsh grueling training," Ryan told them.
"Well, sit down and tell us all about it," Manic offered, extending his hand to Ryan. Ryan accepted and took hold of Manic's hand. He led Ryan back to the couch in which they both sat together on it.
5
FOUR YEARS AGO
Ryan has only been in Selection for a few days and already his limits have been pushed. He bored all of his gear, an M-16 rifle, and a heavy helmet on his head. Not to mention that his back gear weight over 60 pounds. He was sweating hard, though it was hard to tell with the black face paint smeared on him. The hot summer sun was also beating down hard on him. Ryan's determination to proceed, however, kept him in.
Ryan stood in a line with most of his recruits whom are all wearing the same gear as he is, and all of them are panting and exhausted, out of breath. Ryan took a look to the left and saw a bunch of recruits around one of the Sergeants. The Sergeant looked down at a disappointed individual.
"Sorry, recruit, but you failed the timed run, you're going home," the Sergeant said. The recruit, disappointed, tried to persuade him to stay.
"I had no idea I was being timed," the recruit said. "You never time me there was a time limit."
"I also didn't say there wasn't one either, right?" the Sergeant said.
Ryan gulped hearing that. He was relieved that, in his mile run, he was told he passed the time limit, which came to him as a surprise. No one knew they were being timed in these events. Ryan then turned his attention to the right and saw a recruit and the black Sergeant Major over by a spring scale. On the scale is the recruits gear bag and, by the looks on the Sergeant's face, he was not thrilled.
"What is this, recruit?" the Sergeant asked sternly. "Huh? 57 pounds? You were told to carry 60. As far as I'm concerned, you didn't have any weight."
Suddenly, the Sergeant reached down and picked up a heavy cinderblock next to the scale. He extended his arms and forced it in the recruit's arms as if he was passing a baby.
"That's between 65 to 70 pounds of weight there. You must carry that in your gear with you for three days everywhere except the mess hall and light out. Understood?" the Sergeant asked. The recruit nodded as he took his gear back.
Ryan sometimes asked himself what was he doing here. How could anyone be this cruel, unusual, and downright crazy? The instructor staff did drill in the recruits' heads that there are methods to their madness. This place Ryan was part of was already exhausting him.
"Perreault!" the Captain with no name shouted.
Ryan did not realize it was his turn in line. His attention was focused on the drama of what was going on around him.
"Yes, sir," Ryan snapped at the Captain.
"Okay, you two empty out your gear," the Captain ordered.
Ryan, standing next to another recruit, both took off their back gear and dropped it to the ground. Ryan and the recruit both opened their gear bag and started emptying what they had inside. They first pulled out a compass, a set of batteries, and a hand-held radio. Suddenly, the recruit by Ryan pulled out one envelope of an MRE (Meal Ready to Eat). Ryan, however, ended up pulling out three MRE packages. This caught the Captain's attention.
"Hold it, stop!" the Captain shouted. Both Ryan and the recruit froze. "Recruit Perreault, tell me what was on the gear list given to you this morning." Ryan grew a little worried, but tried his best not to show it.
"One glass compass, one set of triple-A batteries, one intercom radio, one MRE meal—"
"Stop!" the Captain snapped. "One MRE meal, so why do you have three?"
"An MRE is just one serving. You asked for a whole MRE meal. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner," Ryan told the Captain. He was worried he messed up and was going to be sent home. The Captain though about what Ryan said. After a pause, he spoke up.
"Recruit Perreault," the Captain said. Ryan got nervous but soon realized the Captain grew a grin. "You are right. Good job. Not many recruits can come up with that." Then the Captain turned to the recruit next to Ryan whom only had one MRE envelope. "You, however, I want you to find a 50 pound rock and add it to your gear list by tomorrow."
Ryan was relieved he passed that one bit, but was still shocked as to the methods of how Selection was treating him. This place is no joke! Here he was, within the boarders of Fort Bragg, North Carolina, where only a small select few could pass into, and here he was receiving the training that these instructors went through. This place was hard.
This place was no joke!
6
Only one week into Selection has passed. One of the Sergeant Majors stood on the end of the road looking at his stopwatch. Suddenly, a scattered group of recruits started running up to them.
"Move it, it's almost been 40 minutes!" the Sergeant shouted in his booming voice. This was near the end of the recruits' five-mile run wile carrying their heavy gear and M-16 rifles.
Several recruits passed the Sergeant and stopped to take a breather.
"Don't stop! Walk around and keep your rifle high above your heads!"
The exhausted recruits did as they were told. Some of them spat out huge amount of gunk from the exhaustive running.
Not long afterwards, Ryan came running up to them. Unlike the others, he seemed to have good control of his breathing and pacing, but he was still sweating and panting madly. Ryan passed the Sergeant Major and immediately followed suit with the other recruits. He looked around and noticed most of the soldiers that he spent time with in Selection were gone. Most of them quit while others failed and were sent home. It has only been a week and already only about 40 of the original 80 recruits remained. Ryan was just relieved that he was still one of the 40 remaining. By next week, he knew only 30 or 20 will remain.
7
The whistle blew!
On the beach side of the flowing rivers are a series of black zodiac boats. At leased 30 of the Selection recruits started diving madly for the five zodiacs. Six recruits stood around a zodiac, three on each side.
Ryan, along with his group of six, grabbed onto a rope of the heavy 160 pound zodiac and heaved it up. Most of them were strained from the over-worked muscles. Eventually, they lifted it on top of their shoulders and started running down the side of the flowing river.
The Captain stood on a tall platform overlooking the recruits carrying the heavy zodiacs all along Fort Bragg.
As time passed by, one of the zodiac teams dropped their boat and keeled over from exhaustion. Ryan, carrying his, had to look back and see the disaster. He immediately noticed the Sergeant running over to them and yelling at them for breaking their equipment. After a few seconds, Ryan focused his attention forward to help his team.
About an hour later, the remaining boat teams arrived back at their staring point. Once they got their, they heard a whistle blow. Immediately, the recruits stopped.
"Gently put down your zodiacs," a Sergeant yelled at them from behind.
Ryan and his team grabbed onto a piece of rope bordered along the side of the inflated tubes, slid the heavy boat off their shoulders (most felt immediately relief one it was off), and gently placed it back down on the ground. As they were doing that, they heard a soft thud next to them. They looked over and noticed one of the six-man teams has accidentally dropped their zodiac when trying to lay it down. What was worse was that the Captain slowly approached them.
"The Sergeant Major said to gently put down your zodiacs," the Captain told to the team. Ryan and his team could not help but stare at them. "Tell me, what was so gentle about the way you treated my gear?"
Ryan cringed. The Captain was a tough cookie and he could not bear to see or hear what he would do to those recruits who dropped the zodiac hard. All he could think about right now is getting the feeling back in his shoulder.
This place was no joke!
8
PRESENT DAY
"He's a blasted Special Forces Operator?!" Robotnik shouted, slamming the thick folder on the table.
"Yes, sir," Sleet said. "A three-year veteran I might add. A Weapons Sergeant, he—"
"I don't want to hear it!" Robotnik snapped, where in reality he really did want to hear it. Slowly, Robotnik opened up the folder and looked through them again. "I just can't believe it. We managed to catch the only human who could resist my forces."
Robotnik read through his file again. He noticed Ryan did some time and served in Afghanistan for a little under a year before being reassigned to Iraq. The files also mention his awards, such as the Silver Star and the Purple Heart.
"Uh, Robotnik, sir, we can always go back to Earth and pick up another human," Sleet suggested. "One with no service record."
At first, Robotnik was going to agree to that, but realized Ryan's skills and abilities. Robotnik could alter his robotosizers to remove the individual's free will but keep in their previous skills. He figured this young man, this Special Forces Operator, could be a very useful ally with him against the hedgehogs and the freedom fighters. This time, now that Robotnik knows of Ryan's true background, he will be more prepared for him next time.
"No, Sleet, I want him," Robotnik said. Sleet and Dingo were shocked hearing that. "I want him. I wanted him robotosized, and that's just what I'm going to get. He would make an excellent lackey for me. Imagine a Green Beret on my side; the resistance just cannot win." Sleet started to understand what Robotnik was getting at. Dingo, however, just stood there dumb.
"Ooh, that's perfect, Robotnik. This will be a crowning achievement," Sleet said hideously while rubbing his hands together.
"Uh, Robotnik," Dingo said, "how are we going to get him? If he's a Green Beret, he can never be found if he doesn't want to be."
Robotnik got angry at Dingo's obvious remarks, but at the same time he was right. A Green Beret is an expert at cover and concealment. They could be within feet of someone or even in the same room without ever knowing they were there. Sometimes, they do not have to try to hide. They are masters at blending in with society. A simple hobo on the street begging for change or someone selling newspapers at a stand can possibly be a Special Forces Operator with concealed firearms. Even in a city full of robots, Ryan could still find a way to blend in or never be found, even with heat radar.
Suddenly, Robotnik had an idea. He had already planned an auction at the royal ball a week ago. He can use that auction as a way to draw out Ryan. The hedgehogs will be at the auction as well, and they will be forced to bring Ryan with them, knowing they cannot leave him alone in risk of getting re-captured.
"I'll hold my auction as planned. I want all available SWAT Bots to hold a perimeter around the building. We can get him from there," Robotnik advised.
9
Meanwhile, at the Underground base with the hedgehogs and Ryan, Ryan was explaining to the triplets about him.
"I saw everybody running to safety as S.A.S. rescued the prisoners. My unit was dispatched to hold the exterior perimeters of the prison camp while the Osprey's were sent in to recover them. As soon as the prisoners were loaded on the helicopters, I spotted an enemy with an RPG, that's a rocket-propelled grenade, and aimed for the helicopter. I aimed my M-4 at him, stared down the Eel sight, and squeezed the trigger. The guy jumped and fell backwards. We were soon returning back to base in the humvees. When we got back to base, I was awarded the Silver Star," Ryan explained to them.
"Dude, that was awesome," Manic said surprised.
"Yeah, you could say that. I mean, how else can I explain my abilities when I escaped," Ryan said pointing to his camouflage pants and black T-shirt tucked in it.
"But aren't the military the ones who try to kill people and break into people's homes?" Sonic asked.
"Actually, a lot of people get it all wrong. The military are people who do their best to serve and protect the country. They're not mean at all. I have some friends who are in the military and we talk great with no arguments. One of my best buds used to be in the Marine Corps," Ryan said.
"Really?" Sonia asked.
"Yeah. Just to let you know about breaking into peoples houses, the military does that to grab bad people. Besides, we like to think of ourselves as life-savers, not life-takers. That's what we are, we don't shoot anybody unless yourself or someone else's life is threatened or if the mission is threatened. Like when I popped that guy with the rocket. If that Black Hawk was destroyed, the prisoners wouldn't get rescued, so I had to nail him. Understand now?"
"Yeah, we get it," Sonic said.
"And besides, only an eighth of the military are the ones who go on the front lines in combat. The rest have simple everyday jobs such as doctors, radio operator, driving instructors, or whatnot. Please, don't take the military wrong, they're actually nice and they would like to talk to anybody. They're nice. I'm in the military, and I'm talking to you three like a prep," Ryan said smiling.
"Yeah, but I heard that Boot Camp is pain twisting and harsh and everything!" Manic said.
"Actually, I enjoyed Boot Camp. I like showing off my strength either pushing or running. Crawling under barbed wire is fun. It's more mental than physical. The only bad thing is the instructors getting in your face and yelling at you. I had a tough time handling that, but I got used to it. Other than that, Boot Camp was fun," Ryan said smiling, "and don't worry about the instructors. As much as they yell at you outside, inside they really care about you like your parents."
The three smiled and nodded.
"The military are good people. That's basically what I was implying on," Ryan said. "I just wished my parents agreed. Every time I explain the good things about the military, they ignore me and only believe their side of the story."
Then they heard a buzzer in the other room. Sonia stood up and approached what looked like a small computer screen. Ryan knew what it was because of his fandom of the show. It was a television phone. Sonia turned on the screen and blinking on was a young adult male mink. His fur is yellow and his hair is long, almost misunderstanding him to be female. His male British accent gives it away that he is indeed a guy.
"Hi Sonia, I just wanted to tell you about that aristocrat auction and party at the Robotropolis ball. Are you still available to come?" Bartlby asked.
"I'd love to," Sonia said.
Bartlby then looked over Sonia's shoulder and noticed the tall red-headed man sitting on the couch.
"Who is that?" Bartlby asked looking at Ryan.
"Oh, his name is Staff Sergeant Ryan Perreault," Sonia said.
"Hello, Bartlby," Ryan said waving at the mink. Though he did not much care for the character, he was still amazed to meet him.
"How did you know my name?" Bartlby asked over the communicator.
"Long story. I heard about this aristocrat auction and party. Are we invited or something?" Ryan asked.
"Well, I don't know. You are a human after all. Sonia, is he like a friend of yours?" Bartlby asked.
"Sort of, we just met," Sonia said.
"But he's cool," Manic said.
"Well, alright. See you at the ball," Bartlby said as the screen turned off.
"Son of a bitch. That's got to be a Robotnik auction," Ryan said.
"Well, it probably is," Sonic said looking up at Ryan. Ryan was tall, but not too tall compared to the three. Sonic's height came to right about Ryan's elbow since Ryan was 5' 10".
"Bartbly said this was an aristocrat party. Sonia is NOT an aristocrat anymore since she became an outlaw. Maybe Robotnik told Bartlby he could take us, which may cause you three to bring me there. Knowing I cannot be left alone in fear of recapture. Robotnik is planning to catch me at the party!" Ryan said. The triplets were amazed at how he was able to think like that. Special Forces Operators are masters at thinking through problems. Most of their work is actually mental, not physical.
"So, what do you want us to do?" Manic asked.
"Nothing. I'm going to the party. I'm going to make sure Robotnik sees my strength and he'll be scared to try to catch me again. Let him get scared of me," Ryan said.
"Ooh, good one, Ry-guy," Sonic said smiling.
Hearing that made Ryan quiver in sadness. His mom always called him Ry-guy on Earth and still does. Hearing that made him miss Earth, his family, his life, his friends, and his job.
"Well, I better get some sleep," Ryan said sadly walking to the bedroom.
The three shrugged not knowing what his sad reaction was all about.
Ryan took a rest on the underground base's guest bed. He could not believe what was happening to him. Here he was in this cartoon world. It was scary, yet awesome at the same time. His emotions kept getting mixed up wildly. He was scared not knowing if he will succeed against Robotnik. Worse, Ryan never knew if he would be able to get back home. So much has happened to him recently. Three hours ago, he was in his living room watching television. Now, he is actually in this world. Despite all of that, he was still able to get some sleep.
10
FOUR YEARS AGO
After almost three weeks into Selection, only about 15 to 20 recruits remain. One of them is Ryan. A handful of the recruits stood in front of separate tables with an assortment of M92 sidearm parts. The Captain, still wearing his Oakley sunglasses, paced back and forth in the small room, causing his boot steps to echo.
"You will have 30 minutes to assemble your five sidearms while blindfolded," the Captain announced.
Upon saying that, the recruits, including Ryan, took their blind folds and slipped them on. They look more like the blindfolds that people use to sleep, not like rags that must be tied around someone's head.
"Begin!" the Captain shouted. Soon enough, the recruits felt their way through on making the weapons. Most of the tiny details, like the screws and the pins, are already assembled, since those take good close yes to make. The bulk of the sidearms are what needs to be assembled.
After thirty minutes, only one recruit is still finishing up his weapons. The Captain blew the whistle. The one recruit still unfinished was forced to stop.
"Remove your blind folds," the Captain told them. The recruits did and were shocked to see what was laid on the table in front of them. Each table had seven sidearms. They were told to make five. The one recruit was asked to leave, where he will soon be discharged and sent home.
The Captain approached a table next to Ryan's and stared down at the recruit sitting next to Ryan.
"Recruit Harr, tell me what the directions were," the Captain said staring at him with those identity-hiding sunglasses.
"We had to assemble our five sidearms in 30 minutes while blindfolded, sir," Harr replied.
"So, why do I see seven?"
"I don't know, sir."
"Harr, are you confident enough to have assembled five sidearms?" the Captain shouted that. Harr looked nervously at the Captain. Finally, he gave his honest answer.
"No, sir."
Then the Captain looked over at Ryan.
"Seems like you fucked up as well, didn't you, Perreault?" the Captain asked sternly at Ryan. Ryan, however, knew the trick. He was taught it during the Preparation Course weeks ago.
"I did not, sir," Ryan told the Captain.
"Then tell me what the directions were?"
"Assemble our five sidearms in 30 minutes while blindfolded, sir."
"Then why do I see seven?"
"Because these are my five sidearms. Five sidearms, plus my two backups for repairs or emergencies, sir," Ryan casualty told the Captain. There was a pause and Ryan looked nervous. Did he get it wrong this time?
"Correct, Perreault, you passed," the Captain said while grinning. He turned and left the table. Ryan felt a sigh of relief. He was doing well. But how long will it last?
11
Only a few short days remain until Selection is over. Ryan was one of 14 still remaining. In this course, Ryan was completely alone as he carried his heavy gear on his back, war paint on his face, and a training M-16 in his hands. His goal was to track through the forest to his destination, which was a camp hidden deep in the woods. However, the instructors are constantly wandering around and recruits will have to start over again if spotted. This is where Ryan was experienced at. Stealth was his strong point.
Several times, Ryan was almost caught. He heard footsteps approaching many times, but was always able to find a hiding spot before being noticed. One time, so far, Ryan was hiding in a bush as an instructor passed by. The instructor came with an inch of Ryan and did not even know it.
As daylight slowly broke into night, Ryan was alone though he kept getting the feeling that he was being watched or followed. It is good to always assume someone is around rather than assume no one is around. Ryan took this advice to caution. He spent the entire training exercise not saying anything.
Soon, Ryan approached what looks like a wide-open gate leading to the camp. Double-checking, Ryan looked at his analogue map and aligned his compass on it. Sure enough, he made it to his destination. However, at the same time, with the lights flashing the entrance, it looked too easy to pass this test. Ryan learned the hard way that nothing in Selection was easy. He figured anybody who would go through the front gates would fail. He decided to go in a back way.
Ryan encircled the camp to find a way in. Sure enough, there was a blind spot between two barracks tents. Ryan jumped the fence quietly and slowly snuck his way inside. He peeked around the corner and saw a hummer parked on the side of the barracks facing the camp entrance. He saw two silhouettes inside, must be the Sergeant Major and the Captain.
Slowly, Ryan approached the hummer from behind, staying in the rear and side-view mirror's blind spots. Once he got close enough to actually touch it, he quickly zipped to the driver's side door and peeks in.
"Hello," Ryan said grinning. He was right, the Sergeant Major was in the driver's seat and the Captain was in the passenger seat. Both were freaked out by Ryan's appearance.
"Perreault! Why did you do that?" the six foot five black Sergeant Major shouted.
"Simple. You would have expected me to approach from the front gate. I came in from the rear, Sergeant Major," Ryan told him. The Sergeant realized what Ryan said and nodded.
"Well, in all honestly, Perreault," the Sergeant began to say, "if you came in from the front gate, you still would have passed. None of the instructor out there spotted you. However, you get extra credit by approaching silently from behind, Corporal."
"So, I passed?" Ryan asked. He knew he did, but he just wanted to hear it.
"Passed? Dude, with your performance, you should already be deployed. If this was a real op, the Captain and I would already be dead." For the first time ever, he heard the Sergeant Major and the Captain chuckle. "Now, how about you head in those barracks over there and help yourself for something to drink."
"Yes, Sergeant Major," Ryan said with glee. He approached the barracks and entered in.
12
On day 24, Ryan Perreault was one of the nine recruits sitting around a picnic table enjoying a barbeque dinner. The instructors acted friendly now. Even the Captain removed his sunglasses to expose his blue eyes to the recruits. Though his name is still classified, he was pleased with the nine around him.
Ryan stood up to get a drink from the refreshments table. On the way, he ran into the Captain.
"Perreault, glad I bumped into you. I wanted to talk with you," the Captain said.
"Yes, sir?"
"I want you to know that you will be graduating top of your class."
"I am, sir?" Ryan asked in shock and glee.
"That's right. By the end of this week, you will receive higher honors to proceed to any training course of your choosing."
"But I will still go through the Q-Course, right, sir?"
"Of course," the Captain said with a chuckle. "I meant after the likely event you graduate the course. There are such opportunities like Foreign Weapons, Close Quarters Battle, Ranger School, and what not. Your choices and as many as you want."
"Thank you, sir," Ryan said. He extended his hand and the Captain quickly shook it.
"In a few days, you and the other recruits will be going off into more restricted areas of Bragg to receive your Q-Course training. I hope you do well, Perreault."
"I'm sure I will, sir," Ryan said. Ryan then stood at the position of attention and gave the Captain a salute. The Captain returned it and dropped it. Ryan dropped his and headed back to the table.
Ryan knew that the hard part was not over, but at leased he will no longer be questioned about his determination or not. By the end of the week, his true Special Forces training will begin.
TO BE CONTINUED...