"Flynn Evans. 20 years old, living in Seattle, Washington. Currently working as an athletic trainer." The dull tone of the military interviewer over the chatter in the waiting room almost made Flynn want to fall asleep on the spot, but he kept his composure. Last thing he wanted was to have his ass hauled back to his college dorm before the plane even left the boarding station.
The man continued, looking at Flynn over the rims of his glasses, "Everything correct so far?"
"Yes, sir." Flynn replied. Despite his initial reservations, looking back on the situation made him realize just how much a once in a lifetime opportunity this was. Considering his experience, it should have been a no-brainer, but when an executive from a secret branch of the Army invited him to destroy a secret organization, it was still life changing.
The interviewer went over some standard questions (mainly things about his physical and mental health), before handing him a clipboard. "By signing this you accept a non-disclosure agreement. You will not share any events that happen while you are under service toanyone. Violation of this agreement will not only result in your immediate expulsion, but also a hefty fine, something that a college student like yourself would not want to pay. Is that clear?"
"Yes, sir." Flynn said, taking the clipboard and signing the documents on it. Not that he had any friends to write home about anyway.
Taking the clipboard back, the interviewer handed Flynn a pamphlet, along with a package containing his uniform and other essentials. "Since I already assume you have your ticket, you'll be meeting at gate 13-A. You must be on at precisely 0800 hours, and not a minute later."
"Thank you very much." Flynn said, exiting the station and heading down the hallways of the airport. He looked around at all the different people bustling around the large area: families on their way home from vacations, businessmen in small groups discussing the future of their companies, even solo passengers who just wanted to get away from the stresses of the modern world. He eventually walked down an area with a lot of mirrors in it, and turned to see his reflection staring back at him: jet black hair, slightly tousled, milk chocolate skin, and his striking emerald green eyes that girls claimed they liked. He was too focused on his studies to really give a damn about dating whatsoever, but he at least liked the green flash that he saw in himself.
Flynn's thoughts were interrupted by a hand clamping down onto his left shoulder. Already knowing who it belonged to, Flynn looked to his right to see his best friend, Owen Carter. While being around two years younger than Flynn, he and Owen had instantly hit it off in college, partly due to how many classes they shared. Many a professor joked that it was destiny, and to their credit, it seemed that way.
"Don't think you can go overseas without me," the blond-haired boy joked, ruffling Flynn's hair a bit despite the latter's light protests. At first glance, Owen looked to be the standard wimpy kid: soft blue eyes, light peachy skin, and white-yellowish blond hair. What he lacked in intimidation in his features, however, he made up for in stature. He was nowhere near bodybuilder status (and Flynn was silently grateful for that fact, as he wasn't either and didn't really enjoy the prospect of being 100% muscle), but compared to when they had first met, Owen had definitely been working out and as such had given his body some more definition.
Flynn pushed Owen lightheartedly, chuckling a bit as he retorted, "Wouldn't even dream of it. But, still, it's a little crazy that they picked both of us."
"Hey, I'm cool with it. More time with my best bud. That is, as long as I get top bunk."
"Like you don't have one back home already?"
The two friends continued to joke around until they reached the gate, at which they spotted two things: their gate number, and a group of jocks who stood in front of it. Flynn instantly recognized the front one, and Owen voiced his nervousness and frustration with an accurate, "Oh, great, not Josh..."
Josh Hancock was, to put it simply, as much of a stereotypical bully as one would expect. Short-cropped brown hair, dark eyes, and a cocky sneer gave off the impression of an intimidating yet douchey guy. At 23 years old, he had failed a couple years of college but was able to keep going due to his status as the son of the owner of a prestigious car company. As per usual, Josh let it get to his head, and as such thought he owned any place he stepped into. His group of cronies didn't help matters either, making their own little echo chamber whenever Josh said anything, even if it was incredibly stupid. Thank God no girls liked him, anyway...
Owen was the unfortunate target of Josh's bullying one day, and Flynn had helped put a stop to his antics. Ever since, the two hated each other's guts. And of course he would be picked to be part of this secret mission. The man may be a jackass, but he at least came with the figure to back it up.
"Well, well, well. I thought the army rules didn't allow scrawny punks to enter. How times have changed," Josh said with his familiar sneer, walking up to the two.
Flynn sighed. As much as he would have loved to stick it in Josh's face, the hunk of a man was a good five inches taller than him, not to mention buffer. Breaking an arm or a leg (or both) was not on his agenda today. "This can wait until after we arrive in England, Josh. We have a flight to catch."
"Is that right? And yet the clock still says that there's ten minutes to go until takeoff." Josh retorted. "Wouldn't it be a shame if...there happened to be a couple passengers missing?"
Flynn's blood turned cold. "You wouldn't dare."
Before Josh could do anything (like his custom of dragging the two boys to the restroom and hanging them by their jackets), a couple of security guards walked over to the two.
"Morning, gentlemen." One said. Josh instantly stepped back. Even though he was brutish, he wasn't dumb enough to try and harass his favorite targets while enforcement was around. "Everything going all right?"
"O-Oh, uh, yes, officers. We were just going to board. Wouldn't want to miss the flight." Josh replied in a false cheery tone, before affirming his decision by grabbing his backpack, hoisting it onto his shoulder, and stalking into the tunnel, though not before giving Flynn and Owen a levelheaded glare.
"Hmph. Hate kids like him." The other security officer said with a grumble. "There's always one who thinks they're hot shit."
"Well, you boys had best get going. Doors are going to close any minute." The first officer said.
Flynn and Owen quickly boarding, at least grateful that they weren't anywhere near Josh and his band of goons, as they had claimed some first class seats. What a rich man wants, a rich man gets.
As the two pals tucked away their luggage in overhead compartments, they heard the familiar pre-flight checklists being run through on the speaker. "They should just have people who haven't heard this before or need to hear it again raise their hand or press a button. I could recite this shit from memory." Flynn grumbled.
"Well, maybe you should become a pilot yourself." Owen said, sitting down and buckling his belt, with Flynn following close behind.
"Right, guess I should just sell the gym, then." Flynn said sarcastically.
Before long, the plane was backing out of the terminal, and Flynn looked out the window. He didn't realize until now that he may never see this place again.
Fortunately for him and Owen, Flynn had thought ahead and brought some melatonin gummies so that he could sleep while on the plane. While it was still morning where he came from, he didn't want the jet lag to knock him out before the training could. The two boys slept peacefully on the flight, only waking with about a quarter of an hour left on the flight.
It wasn't long before the two grabbed their luggage, hopped onto a bus, and were carted away to a base in the fields of England. Judging by the looks of it, Flynn surmised that the base had been there for a few months now.
"Afternoon, ladies and gentlemen!" A barrel-chested man who looked to be a commander of person of equal importance greeted the busload of men and women who had been selected to serve. "You will have thirty minutes to get unpacked and dressed in your uniforms, after which you will report to the aircraft hangar. There, you will be greeted by one of our top agents."
Murmuring broke out as the group made their way to the barracks. Owen was quick to claim the top bunk (as he said he would) and to put his uniform on. Unlike most army uniforms, these ones seemed more tailored to agility and finesse rather than status: combat boots, black combat pants with a black belt, a long-sleeved black shirt, and a white, purple, blue, or red jacket, depending on status, with white being at the bottom and red being at the top.
"You ever wonder who it could be? Maybe it could be a ninja!" Owen said, and Flynn chuckled at that.
"Wouldn't that be nice. Would make excursions seem a lot easier." He said in return, checking to make sure that all of the clothes fit on him well.
Once the group was done changing, they all made their way to the aforementioned aircraft hangar. The same man from before was waiting for them.
"All right, listen up, people!" He roared to quiet the crowd. Once there was complete silence from them, he continued, "You all are very lucky to be learning from this agent during your time here. She has served in a special forces team known as Delta Red for a very, very long time, and has become one of their top enforcers. I pray that none of you get on her bad side."
As the man spoke, an army jeep rolled in behind him. Flynn tensed a bit. Whoever this woman was, he at least hoped that he wouldn't make any stupid decisions. She sounded like she meant business.
"As I have things to do elsewhere, I will let her introduce herself." The man said, before walking away with clipboard in hand.
The line of men and women turned back just in time to see the passenger door open. Flynn was a bit surprised at the woman that stepped out of it.
His gaze started at her head. Her blonde hair was cut just above the shoulders, with a forelock for some variety, clashing well with her light skin. Though she had blue eyes and a petite nose and mouth, the steely focus that she exuded suggested something entirely different about her.
She was clothed in a dark blue sports bra and black yoga pants that came down to her shins, both with white trimmings. If one looked closely, they could see hexagonal patterns on the pants, akin to a beehive. Ending at her feet, Flynn could see that she wore dark blue socks and red calf-high combat boots. She also sported a pair of red gloves, along with a black choker around her neck.
The most striking aspect of her ensemble, however, had to be the light blue leather jacket that she wore. Two long straps sagged down behind it, and as she climbed down with her back facing towards them, Flynn was quick to notice the Union Jack patterned across the back of the jacket.
The woman made her way towards the line of men and woman, stopping just about ten feet from them. Looking down the line, she finally spoke.
"Pleased to meet you all. My name is Cammy White."
A different story this time, as well as my first M-rated one. I just can't stop writing now for some reason. Where was this when I needed to get out of that writer's block two months ago?! :(
Hope you all had fun reading. I'll do my best to get another chapter out before I leave.
All OCs are created by me. Street Fighter is owned by Capcom.