Date: Mon, 12 Dec 2022 04:25:55 -0500 From: Michael Wisser Subject: Barracks Bitch Chapter 37 Hey Readers: If you like this story, please consider sending in a donation to Nifty so that this site can keep going. Just use the link: https://donate.nifty.org/) Thanks Hidden in a tree some distance from the platoon was a man dressed in wilderness camouflage, and he was studying the Bravos while remaining immovable inside the evergreen branches of the large pine. No leaves of the deciduous trees blocked his view. The leaves had long since fallen to the ground. "Him. I want HIM." The man holding binoculars called down in low tones. It was clear who he meant, the guy who seemed to be in charge of the platoon, the one everyone paid attention to. "Copy." The man standing by the trunk answered before running off. The man in the tree was still questioning his decision to do this favor for Collins. But technically it was one of the tasks they advertised to customers so he didn't have an automatic `no' ready when the Marine called him. Usually when they trained troops or squads for specific ops it wasn't at their compound on the Georgia-Alabama border it was on some foreign soil elsewhere in the world. U.S. troops, foreign troops, operators of all sorts. Collins paid well, the U.S. govt usually did, which tipped the balance in favor of a `yes' in this unusual case. Cherries. Every single one. They looked like children. Patrol discipline wasn't terrible, except for the noise they were making. "Guess they didn't get the message." He said to himself. Collins had left it up to him how he would run this, and he decided against briefing the babies before testing them. Run of the mill grunts were instructed and ordered - `don't color outside the lines', `shoot that', `sit there', `don't eat the crayons.' These grunts weren't run of the mill. Figuring out the sitch was part of operating without intel, adapting a mission, creating a mission, defining the battlefield, all important factors that would tell him what these kindergarteners lacked. He mentally shrugged. "Collins did say to push them. Over the cliff is still pushing." ************************ Assmunch came to decision. How this day had proceeded left too many unanswered questions for him to feel comfortable operating as if this were a normal patrol. He considered this to be enemy territory. An entire platoon was too big to accomplish any objective without intel, and they created a big fat target for attack or ambush. A big, noisy, easily herded target. After listening to the opinions of his men, he turned to Cellblock. "We'll do a 5k Shotgun." Cellblock nodded before turning to give orders to the teams. "Three man standard." Cellblock announced. The Bravos immediately broke into their teams. "5k due Northeast. HEE-HAW" No one waited, they had their orders and a plan. Hide. Evade. Escape. Harass. Attack. Weaken. Something Cellblock had come up with in Germany to handle situations when you didn't know where your enemy was and were marching blind. You picked a direction (northeast), selected a distance to reconverge (5k), broke off into smaller teams (3 man), head off into different directions along a 180 degree arc (shotgun). Assmunch took a few deep breaths and settled into the zone while the rest of of the Bravos disappeared into the woods. All the elements came together in his head, clues he'd noticed as they patrolled without attempting to figure out how they connected. The topography of the terrain they'd traversed. The time of day, the drop off point, the delays, having no briefing or mission, no objective, the few things he knew about their hosts and Major Collins, their training up to this point, Germany, being allowed to break the rules in small ways, unusual skills not normally provided to Infantry privates. Evaluation of existing proficiency coupled with identification of deficiencies was always step number one. That would be his first step...well after selecting participants, but he had no way of knowing or determining which selection criteria were used. Create a baseline. Develop a plan, a program. Challenge, instruct, test, train. Eliminate external factors and isolate. Increase the intensity of training, build on previous lessons. It all floated around in his brain until an arrow of lightning pierced his thoughts. "Chunk, head out and join up with Alaska's group. That way." He pointed. He and Chunk were the odd two man team left after the Bravos split up into their 3 man shotgun. "Leave your gear, it'll just slow you down. We'll take it with us." "We.....?" Chunk said in confusion, while unlatching his kidney strap and chest strap and letting his ruck drop to the ground. In two seconds he was gone. They were beyond argument, discussion. The Bravos trusted that he had his reasons, had a plan and a goal in mind. Assmunch used the time to go deeper, leaving just the smallest part of himself to monitor Automatic brain. He had nothing more to figure out. If their hosts hadn't already decided to deprive the Bravos of their leader, they would soon, especially after seeing the Platoon disperse. There was no point to making it hard for them to take him, it would only wear him out. These were guys who didn't lose, especially against a 20 year old Private. There wasn't a lot of math to do to arrive at the answer that Assmunch would be loser in any scenario. At least this way, he could get a mind-nap even if he left a sliver of his awareness on alert. He made himself comfortable in a ruck flop on the ground and waited. It wouldn't be long. Thoughts of his recent weekend with Kevin and his family kept him warm. ************************* "Clever." The man in the tree muttered as he saw the Bravos split up and scatter. Only two of the teams would be exposed to the traps his men were currently setting up on the path to the compound. The others would circumvent them. He no longer had confidence the traps would be successful. There was no way the Platoon could know the exact location of the compound but with this tactic it wouldn't be difficult to triangulate. However, they couldn't communicate with each other. The smooth and fluid way the troops went into action spoke of a precision execution of a previously developed drill. At some point they would have to converge again if they planned to act as a unit. Did they know he didn't have enough men to chase after ten teams? At least eight of the teams would locate the compound. Once found, they'd wait and gather intel. The rats would find the cheese. He welcomed knowledge that the infants had made his job slightly easier. He wouldn't have to herd them. He was also pleased that Collins had sent them kids with at least a little experience. He hit the radio button on the handset hooked to his vest. "Let them go. Base, prepare for perimeter incursion, line of sight...". He did a quick calculation in his head..." contact in two ticks...1400." He saw the target squat down and assume a relaxed seated pose. "Discontinue target hunt and capture. He's waiting for you. Target will cooperate." The man thought for a couple seconds. "You'll only need one man, Cage. Send the rest to shadow the infants. You have free rein to play. Do not incapacitate or injure." His men would watch and determine how able and skilled these little babies were. After they were rounded up he'd get reports on who the thinkers were, who gave orders, who led and who followed. From that he could develop a program to focus on their deficiencies. ******************* Zeus scrambled up the twelve foot rock face then planted himself on his stomach to reach down to grab Weeble's outstretched hand to pull him up from Sleeper's lift. Weeble climbed over Zeus, using the big man's ruck for handholds. Once his hands were free, Zeus grabbed Sleeper's free hand to do the same for him, waiting until Sleeper gained his feet before rising to stand. "We have a shadow." Zeus said, turning his head for his gaze to drift over the shadow's position without stopping. Sleeper nodded. "I saw one, you think there's more?" Zeus shook his head. "Negative." "Sneaky snake." Weeble commented. "He's gonna be hard to shake. He's gonna be a problem." "Yeah. Do we deal with him now, or wait?" Sleeper asked. "Now." Zeus replied in a dangerous tone. "We don't know if we'll have the opportunity to escape his observation further on. He'll lose momentary track of us once we get away from this ridge. Best opening we'll have. He maintains distance, but that doesn't mean he won't engage at some point." Sleeper nodded in agreement. "Weeble..." "I know what to do, Sleeper." Weeble interrupted. "Give Zeus your ruck." Sleeper said as he started forward and away from the edge. When they were sure they were out of sight, Weeble slid out of his straps while still moving and darted off into the scrub. Sleeper grinned watching Weeble skitter off to the cover of a dense thicket twenty yards off to the right. No one moved like Weeble, fast and low, his legs pumping furiously. "Let's move." Sleeper said, setting off at a quick jog almost at the same moment Weeble skittered away. The diversion relied on disguising that one of their team had peeled off. Their shadow had to think he was still following all three. And no matter how good their shadow was, Weeble was one of the fastest they had in a scramble, not to mention wriggly and writhing, all wild rabid and feral. He was worse than Shark. Shark hit and ran, he didn't wait around. Weeble would only run if it served a purpose. And if Weeble got caught it worked to their advantage too, as it would slow their shadow down. He'd have to make a choice, and there really wasn't a choice. Their shadow couldn't allow Weeble to continue to randomly distract him from following his other two targets. He'd lose track of them. Even captured, Weeble would be an anchor around the shadow's neck. Had it been an actual enemy who meant to do them harm, they would have used a different approach, splitting up to harass the shadow individually in rapid engagements intended to tire and confuse. Sure, it would slow their progress toward their objective, but eliminating an enemy behind you took priority. Too much havoc could be wrought by even a single man. Sleeper shook his head. Whoever was calling the shots were seriously underestimating the skills of their targets, and it would be foolish for Sleeper to avoid taking advantage of that mistake. They sent one man? Sleeper wouldn't make the same mistake though, he fully expected their shadow to be very, very good at bushcraft. It was arrogant for him to allow himself to be spotted, but was that deliberate or were their hosts completely unprepared for the Shotgun? Those were questions Sleeper couldn't answer. But just like a fighter jet released countermeasures to deal with a fired missile during a dogfight in the air, the Shotgun was meant to create too many targets for a single attack to succeed. And the 3 man Shotgun could be further dispersed to create three more targets if necessary. He had no doubts that the other squads had their own shadows and were dealing with them in similar ways. Either way the dice fell, Sleeper didn't have to worry about their shadow anymore. ********************* "Fuck him up, Demon." Cellblock said. If their shadow was smart, he'd bolt. There was plenty of room for him to escape between the points of the triangle they'd surrounded him with. Even if he was really good, he'd have a hard time prevailing over three attackers if he waited for them to engage. The group of them stood spread six paces apart in an area where the trees were spaced further apart. "Wait." Their captive said. "We're only evaluating you." He said in a calm and reasonable voice. "If you attack, there's going to be injuries. A lot of injuries." Something in his tone made it a certainty rather than a possibility. He didn't seem bothered, or nervous at all. In fact, he stood relaxed with his arms crossed. "You could surrender." Troll offered. Their shadow turned his head to study Troll. "You want a captive?" Troll shrugged. "Not really, you'll slow us down. Or we could leave you tied to this tree here." The man laughed. Cellblock realized he liked this guy. He looked to be in his late 20's or early thirties, bundled for the cold so it was hard to see his body shape, but he stood about 5'11". He had an easy friendliness to him, with brown eyes that never lost a look of amusement. "That would suck, but you know I'd get loose. You would have to take me with you. I could give you intel." It was Cellblock's turn to laugh. "Are you going to give us intel?" "If you ask nice, sure. Why wouldn't I?" The man replied. "We weren't told not to." Cellblock sighed. "You could lie. You probably already are." Another laugh. "Well isn't that how it goes? You have to figure out what's a lie, and what isn't?" He waited a few seconds for Cellblock to make a decision. "What do you think Demon?" He asked, looking at the only member of the squad that hadn't spoken. Demon grinned. "I like to fight. I know I won't win against you, not by myself. But I could make it difficult on you to continue following us." The shadow raised his hands as his eyebrows lifted up onto his forehead. "What am I going to do? All I have to do is slow you down, which is going to happen either way we do this. I'd rather do it the friendly way. After all, I don't REALLY want you to cry every time you have to pee for the next four days. I'm going to hammer my boot between your legs and put a size 11 footprint in your taint. You'll probably puke, and we won't be going anywhere for at least an hour. It's 50-50 whether you'll have little Demon's running around when some poor stripper finally agrees to marry you." Demon scowled. "I don't like threats." The happy shadow smiled. "You're in the wrong line of work for that, buddy." Cellblock sighed. "We have to secure your hands." The shadow nodded and crossed his wrists behind his back. "Demon, secure your ruck on the captive." Cellblock ordered. He was pleased at the momentary scowl that flashed over the shadow's face. But it disappeared fast and was replaced with the man's normal bemused visage. "Troll, your ruck goes on the front." Now the scowl remained. "Demon, secure his wrists when he's latched in." "You know I can't march far with this weight." The shadow said. "I can't see the ground, I'm going to trip and fall a lot. That's going to slow you down." Cellblock grimaced. "Ouch. And with your hands tied you won't be able to catch your fall. We really should have thought this through better. Move out." "Look at it this way, your feet are free, you can still put that boot in my taint. I kinda got a boner for it now." Demon licked his lips and smiled with a wink as he grabbed the right shoulder strap on the Shadow while Troll grabbed the left. "We'll try not to let you fall." The set off to continue in the direction they'd been originally traveling. "The compound is that way." The shadow said, indicating with his chin a direction off to their left. "We know." Cellblock said without pausing or changing direction. "Good luck throwing Troll off." Cellblock said a silent word of thanks that the Sergeants Bravo had trained them full of hard lessons in Germany with few breaks. He couldn't imagine how they would have handled this situation back when they were green. ********************* They'd been in woodlands exactly like these before, prior to Germany. A lot of scrub growth, crowded thickets and difficult paths to navigate forced them to stick to one or two easier to travel routes. "When do you think it'll happen?" Dumbo asked. "Pretty soon." Bootlicker answered. "Eyes sharp. "You take under, Dumbo. Wanker, you take over." "He's still back there." Wanker observed. "You sure, Wanker? I'd have come up alongside by now, maybe even ahead." Bootlicker murmured, keeping his voice low. "Yeah. Twenty yards back. He'd have to circle too far to track us alongside and we haven't given him time. The squirrels behind us haven't started running on the floor again, still darting through the trees overhead." "Good." Bootlicker replied. Now...would it be a diversion, a trap, or a delay? These guys had home turf advantage. If it was him, Bootlicker would have set up something that combined all three with enough time. The cry of a red-tailed hawk sounded close by, a lonely and mournful screech in the cold quiet of the woods. Bootlicker took in the surroundings. A slight rise, maybe three or four feet to their left beyond which appeared dense growth. Too bad it wasn't summer, there'd be juicy blackberries on those. His stomach growled with disappointment in the season. He'd brave the almost guaranteed yellow jacket swarm for a handful of blackberries at this point. A clearing beckoned at 1 clock through gradually spreading tree trunks. Both directions were desirable for strategic purposes. Their pursuer would avoid the clearing, not wanting to walk in the open. And he'd know his targets would want to avoid a clearing for similar reasons. When you're on patrol in the woods clearings were prime ambush locations. The enemy could hide and attack from cover while your squad was pinned in the open. A smart patrol would avoid the clearing. The trap would be at the top of the rise to the left. "Bootlicker..." "I know, Dumbo." Bootlicker answered. He was thinking, but he couldn't take too long. Their pursuer would use the time to circle around. He suddenly realized THIS was the diversion, they were expected to take some time to evaluate their choices. There would be a trap either way they chose, but because the clearing was the least desirable option the trap there would be less troublesome because almost no one would choose that option in this situation. His squad had taken the route directly pointing to the ultimately expected compound to the northeast. If it was a prepared trap, which was likely on a route their hosts selected for them, it would be something intended for an entire Platoon rather than a smaller three man squad. Assmunch had changed the game and their enemy didn't have time to revise their carefully laid obstacle course. It was too early for sacrifice. "Are you clocking, Wanker?" He asked. "Shadow on the move, east." Bootlicker nodded. As expected. He had to wait. Their pursuer would take position in the woods across the clearing once he circled around. So foolishly confident for a lone tracker. Is that what their hosts thought of them? Did they really think they were bumbling idiots? "Let me know when he's likely to lose eyes on us." Bootlicker said. "We move along heading one hundred fifty degrees on Wanker's go. Max speed." "Copy" Dumbo and Wanker echoed. Thirty seconds passed in silence. "Now." Wanker breathed, and the three of them darted immediately to the southwest, the small rise with the blackberry bushes above covering their quick retreat. "We have thirty seconds max to find cover to hide our route. There!" Wanker pointed to a large fallen tree beyond which was yet another wide expanse of shrubs and low growth. Running full out was difficult on even ground when you were rucked and loaded, and in the woods it was downright dangerous, but they didn't have a choice. It wasn't a sprint, and you didn't pump your legs you barely lifted your feet. "If he's smart, he'll just meet us up ahead rather than try to follow us, but it'll take him a bit while he waits for us to to appear. He should figure it out pretty quick." ******************* "I'm just about fed up with these little fucking bastards." Beggar said to the tree he was leaning against in a squat. He'd waited in position, taking the opportunity to swallow a nutri-bar in two bites. "Babysitting job my ass." He stood up gingerly. He had what he came for. He'd take his time heading back to base, maybe they'd all arrive at the same time. He wondered how the others were doing and if they were having as much trouble as he was. One thing was clear, these bastards weren't the babies they'd been told to expect. That actually pleased him. He'd recommend that the dial get turned up to 11. With a smile he walked casually through the woods dreaming of punishing these three pukes in particular in the week to come. If anyone were watching, they would notice he walked with a slight limp favoring his left foot. The one with the big ears would be his special project. "Payback's a bitch, motherfucker." He muttered as he stopped and sat down on the ground to remove his boot. He was going to have to wrap his ankle. It hadn't stopped throbbing with the usual walking it off. He chuckled. The spring loaded sapling was a lucky hit. He still couldn't figure out how he tripped it. And he hadn't had time to investigate how they'd done it in the first place. Fucking. Little. Green. Grunt. Bastard. Mother. Fuckers. ****************** "We can't have lost him." Dumbo said. "He's up ahead somewhere then." Bootlicker said. "Probably snacking on a box of crayons waiting for us." Wanker said, making them all chuckle. "You think he's a Marine?" Dumbo asked. Wanker shrugged. "Who knows? He rolled down that hill like a big dumb bag of rocks though. That had Marine written all over it. I didn't expect that little tree to whip that hard. But then," Wanker chuckled, "neither did he." "It was a thing of beauty." Bootlicker said, smiling. "But don't get cocky. Stay focused. He underestimated us, let his guard down. It won't happen again. If anything, I expect payback." "There's not much further to go, if Holler was right. I don't think he'll have time to hit us." Dumbo said. "You could be right, but let's expect it anyway." Bootlicker replied. Wanker groaned. "I wish I had a box of crayons to eat. I'm starving." Bootlicker patted him on the back. "Don't worry. Holler knows his shit, we'll be eating soon I bet." ****************** "Is that all of them?" Gregory asked, his eyes watching the Private sitting in a chair in the middle of the compound's courtyard. Gregory was in the tower four stories up with two of his commanders, looking down. "All but three, sir. The squad with the big guy and the little guy are in the wind." Jackson replied. "Wasn't that Nancy's squad?" He asked. "Yes, sir. Can't reach Nancy on the radio." Gregory squinted and furrowed his brow. Just who had Collins sent here? These were kids. Nancy was no-contact. Beggar came back injured. Ghost allowed himself to be captured and used as a pack mule. But thank God for that because he might just be one of the only ones to actually get anything in depth in terms of the skill level of these kids. Ghost was friendly, non threatening, engaging and talkative. He was one of the few really likable guys he had. If anyone could get an inside track on these kids, he would. One thing was clear: this Platoon was disciplined and trained for ordinary missions. They operated far above what he'd normally expect from Privates. The 3 man squads were currently hidden in a 180 degree arc around the compound's perimeter. Like they knew where the compound was from the very start. Like they'd had a plan. And intel, except Gregory knew that wasn't the program...unless Collins had lied to him, which was unlikely. "Sir, we've got a vehicle coming." "Well this day just keeps getting better. I should charge Collins double." Gregory said to no one in particular. "Doesn't look like they're in the mood to stage a rescue op of their man. Let's bring them in. The last three will show up eventually. I have a feeling they're not far away, and watching everything. Take a plate of food to our captive Private. Let's see if that coaxes them in. If not, round them up. Day's getting late." "My pleasure, Sir." Jackson said before darting down the steps of the tower. "Let's go see who our guests are, Vince." Gregory said to the other man as he walked to the steps himself. ******************* "They're going to see the fire and the smoke." Weeble said. Sleeper shrugged. "We're not hard to find." Sleeper said, watching Zeus field dress the buck they'd killed. They got lucky, finding this buck struggling with his antlers caught in the fork of a tree. "Besides, you want to eat, right?" Weeble's stomach growled, loud enough for everyone to hear. "I'll take that as a yes. But first, go do recall. There's enough here for everyone." Sleeper continued. Weeble darted off in the direction of the compound to signal the first squad back to their location. One man from that squad would go to the next squad's position and relay, and so on. Sleeper looked over at their captive. "What channel have they switched to?" He asked for the twentieth time. The man shrugged. "Come on, Nancy. This doesn't have to be difficult. I just want to make sure my guys get a meal in them, then we'll all walk into your base like good little soldiers. We're here, we have no where else to go. We'll even let you go to report." Sleeper coaxed the captive who was tied hand and foot. They'd taken no chances and hog tied him. "We know the drill, the enemy has comms, radio silence and a new channel for anything critical. There's nothing critical now, there is no radio chatter for us to find. We're all here, right where you wanted us to be. We can't get intel. But we can radio in and begin negotiations. You guys have the upper hand and we both know your side is only waiting to see what we'll do. Nice trick putting Assmunch front and center there. But we don't need to rescue him. None of us are going anywhere except where you want us to be. Game's up." Nancy blinked slowly, as if bored. Sleeper sighed. "Look, you get to tell the story however you want to, we won't say a word. You just got unlucky when we set Weeble on you. You're the one who made the bad call to let him lead you into Zeus. We all know you didn't expect us to have the training. You should be mad at your commander for not briefing you properly. You'd have done alright if you'd met up with one of the other squads. And we sincerely appreciate you not going for blood, we know in a real fight we stood no chance." The lump on Nancy's cheek was going to turn into an angry bruise. "Zeus got lucky hitting you with Weeble's ruck like that. For a big guy, he's got fast reflexes. Sorry about having to drag you, but you were out and we couldn't carry you and our gear. Come on. We aren't the enemy." He watched Nancy's eyes gaze off, as if lost in thought. Playing the scenarios in his head most likely. Sleeper gave him time. "Get the fire going, Addison. I'll slice it thin so it cooks faster. We should be able to eat most of it. The rest we'll bring with us." Zeus said. Sleeper set to the shavings with his sparker, blowing on the mound when it caught then added dry tinder to the small flames as well as bark and twigs. In less than a minute the flames were big enough to add the smaller branches and wood. Unlike their camp out in the state park, there was no flat slate stone in the area they could use for a cooking surface. "He's useless Zeus. We should just let him run back home." Sleeper said. Zeus shrugged. Soon, Weeble came back with Puta and Dimples and they all grabbed chunks of meat from Zeus to hang over the fire. Sleeper took turns feeding Zeus bites as he continued butchering the carcass of the buck. Gradually the other Bravos filtered in and took their place around the fire. Sleeper watched Weeble take a strip of cooked meat over to Nancy who turned his head away when Weeble offered him a bite. Sleeper shook his head. He watched his brothers devour the meat like rabid wolves. "Eat fast. They should be sending out a team to round us up by now. Either that, or they're going to attack. Let's not get caught with our pants down. And don't overload." Sleeper called out. He really didn't have to tell them to hurry. Half of them barely chewed the meat before gulping it down. Cellblock spoke up just as he finished his meal. "Let's just walk in the front door. We're all bushed, let's find out what all this is about." Nancy let out a sarcastic laugh. "You're tired? After a half day's walk in the woods?" He grinned. "I can't wait. This is going to truly suck for you soft little babies." "Says the man who didn't carry 45 pounds on his back all day." Shark pointed out. "45? You don't even have plates, full mags, a full camelback. You're babies. Don't worry. Well show you what tired is." Nancy retorted. Sleeper traded a look with Cellblock. The first clue. Sleeper gave the handsignal for squad leaders to meet before stepping away. Zeus stood up and held out his field knife with bloody hands to Alaska to finish with the carcass. After the squad leaders were gathered, Cellblock spoke first. "Our guy was pretty talkative. I like him, he's friendly." "Did he say what we're doing here?" Shark asked. "Training. He didn't say what kind, but he did say it was supposed to toughen us up." Cellblock answered. "He said today was all about evaluation." "Which means we fucked up." Shark said. "We played this wrong by showing our skill level." MiniHulk nodded. "We're going to get hit hard." He took a deep breath and threw his ugly head back. For a guy with almost no neck he seemed to have no trouble moving his blocky caveman head around. Sleeper heard leaves crunching behind him, and he turned to see Bootlicker walking up to the group. "I hope you worked your magic and found us some info, Bootlicker." Bootlicker grinned. "Oh, I've got info. I meant to tell Assmunch but we never got time. I looked through our file in Ulrich's office." No one was surprised Bootlicker found his way into the Training Regiment Commander's office. "We have a file?" Cellblock said with suspicion. "Yes. You're not going to like it though." Bootlicker replied. "Fuck. I wish Assmunch was here." Sleeper said. "What's the file?" He said with surrender in his voice. "We're part of a Pentagon test program." Bootlicker said. "What kind of program?" Cellblock asked. "Homo's in the military." Bootlicker said with a matter of fact tone. Cellblock looked at Shark, MiniHulk, Zeus and Sleeper. "But we're not homos." He said it casually, as if it was just another basic fact, unbothered by the implication or the association. "Charlies are in the program too. I didn't see anything on the Alphas or Deltas, but it wouldn't take a genius to figure out they're in the program, we were all together in Germany. I guess since it was just Bravos and Charlies in the Airborne Course they only gave Ulrich information on us." Bootlicker continued, ignoring Cellblock. "Major Collins is running the program." "Fuck me." Sleeper breathed out. "You're in the right Platoon for that, apparently." Shark said with a chuckle. "Did the file say how many of us are gay?" "No. But we know Puta is. Maybe Wanker, and Troll sure likes getting Wanker to suck his dick. It doesn't matter." Bootlicker answered. Cellblock nodded. "Yeah, that's not the real problem. What if we get known as the Homo Platoon? Who knows about this, Bootlicker?" "Program is Classified, but not Top Secret. So not many, and it's definitely not general knowledge." Bootlicker explained. "Probably just command." Cellblock hissed. "Bootlicker... you looked at Classified documents? And now you're telling us? We'll all hang for this." He said in a whisper. "Then you better not tell anyone." Bootlicker said with a grin. "And why are you whispering?" "Because I don't want to go to jail, fuckwad. And we have to tell Assmunch!" Cellblock argued in a heated whisper. "No one's going to jail, Cellblock. Relax. Man, you're way too uptight." Bootlicker replied. "Yeah, Assmunch will know what to do." Shark said. "I don't like that we could get a reputation. Some of us are set on re-upping. I have to do eight to get the G.I. Bill stuff they promised." "Me too." Cellblock said. "What do you think about this, Sleeper?" MiniHulk asked. "I...". Sleeper paused. In truth, he didn't know how he felt. He didn't care about the program. Or rather, he didn't care that it was a study of Homosexuals in the Military. He actually liked the training and getting to hang out and work with the Bravos. But he knew he didn't have a future in the military so any reputation or career roadblock wasn't a threat for him like it was for the Bravos. Their nervousness was understandable. What would Assmunch do? "This is what we signed up for." He began. "We all volunteered for this." Cellblock interrupted. "I wouldn't have if they told me what it was for." Sleeper held up a hand. "Doesn't matter Quincy. It's a done deal, you can't back out. Actually, I don't know about that, we probably could back out, if we were willing to let Collins know that we know about the study program. But that would mean we had info we shouldn't have. The Major seems like a good guy, but he's career military and someone will get punished for this. If it's us, we'll probably just be booted. So I don't see that as an option. We're stuck for now, right?" "I guess." Cellblock answered. Shark nodded while MiniHulk just shrugged. Sleeper continued. "Second, we're getting training NONE of us would be getting if we weren't in the program. And C, I don't know about you guys, but I love the Bravos. I love being here, I love going through this with all of you. I don't want to be anywhere else. Number four - they probably offered this to plenty other troops, we're the ones who said yes, and while some of us were selected because of being gay, we don't know who that is, or if we have any others besides Puta. Which means no one else will know either, especially because it's Classified. Once they're done with the program and get what they need, our file will go into a drawer in an unlabeled filing cabinet in the basement of the Pentagon and no one will look at anything but the report conclusions ever again." Bootlicker nodded. "I don't think our selection was random. Usually studies have control groups and test groups, and I don't think we're a control group. Maybe the Alphas and Deltas are the control, maybe regular Army is the control, who knows? The file didn't lay out how the study was created, just the purpose. It's probably just a basic briefing for Ulrich and the inclusive file is in Collins' hands. And we aren't mentioned specifically by name so Ulrich doesn't even know which of us is gay, just that some of us COULD be. Ulrich did have a bunch of information on our comings and goings, performance at Airborne, how we interact with each other, fights, arguments, how Assmunch usually resolves everything or tasks us. The cadre loved us, by the way. Called us `dedicated soldiers'. The best part? We're slotted for Ranger School." Sleeper held his hands up as if to say `See? I'm right.' "Are you going to tell Wanker, Bootlicker?" Shark asked. "Did the file say how he's been sucking dick and taking it up the ass?" "Nah." Bootlicker said. "I told him it doesn't matter if everyone's cool with it, he can't be open about it. So he's been careful, which is what I'm training him for. Our activities are secret ops, and that includes his extra-curricular activities. He doesn't need to know about the program. No one but us and Assmunch needs to know. We don't need anyone fucking up and letting it slip. We need to play this smart, ride it out and see where it takes us. If THEY know that WE know they'll either drop us back into the regular ranks of infantry, or send us all back where we came from." Cellblock reluctantly nodded. Shark seemed to be giving it some thought. "We don't really have a lot of choices here." Sleeper said. "Do you think Weeble's gay?" Shark asked. "Why? You want some of that?" MiniHulk said with a smile. Shark laughed. "Not into dudes, you ugly fuck. No, just wondering about that guy that came for our graduation. They seemed pretty tight." Sleeper sighed. "Let's not go around trying to figure out who's gay. If anyone is, let them keep their secret. All of us have stuff we want to keep private, at least for now. We'll know when they want us to know. It's not going to change anything, I'm not going to treat anyone differently, just like whatever Wanker does isn't a problem as long as it doesn't fuck with what we need to do and it doesn't pull us down. We don't know even a little bit of whatever Bootlicker and Wanker get up to, which is their secret to keep unless they want to tell us. So same thing goes for any other secret we might have. That's our plan. And Bravo business stays Bravo business, agreed?" "Yeah, Brotherhood matters stay in the Brotherhood." Cellblock agreed. "You're right." Shark said. "It's not a big deal, we can't do anything about it, and it's a Bravo thing besides. If it needs to change, Assmunch will help us figure it out." MiniHulk nodded. "Bravos for life. I feel like the minute I was put with you guys being in the Army just made sense. I love the shit we do, I love doing it with you guys." "We're not gonna have a group hug, are we? You bunch of homos." Shark said, making everyone laugh. "Zeus, you good? Need to add anything." Sleeper asked. "No, Sleeper. I'm good." Zeus answered with his usual flat lack of emotion. Which meant he didn't have a problem with any of it. Zeus wasn't usually in on the squad leader meetings but he needed to get used to giving input. One on one with Sleeper Zeus didn't have an issue with speaking up. But when the Bravos were present, he rarely spoke. Sleeper understood now that it was a confidence thing. Zeus didn't feel like he had anything important to contribute, and that the rest of the Bravos usually covered everything he would say anyway. And, he was happy doing whatever the others decided. If he didn't like it, he would simply not do it, like drinking alcohol or being stupid. "Okay, so once everyone is done eating, we load up and walk in the front door?" Sleeper moved forward. "Yeah, what else we gonna do?" Cellblock answered. "May as well get this punishment suck started." Shark replied. MiniHulk nodded. "Not really much choice, is there?" They made their way back to the other Bravos who were slowing down on the deer meat. "What's the plan?" Troll asked. A voice from someone hidden in the woods nearby called out. "The plan is you all go back to your families in box with a flag draped on it. You fucking stupid morons! You're all dead. Where's your perimeter guard?" A figure stepped out from behind a thick oak. "Sarge? What are you doing here?" Sleeper called out. The scowl on his face deepened as he watched the Bravos scramble to their feet and assume parade rest. "At least you haven't forgotten THAT." Sergeant Walker growled as he walked up. "You disappoint me, men. I thought I hammered it deep enough into your empty skulls that YOU DON'T FUCKING ENCAMP WITHOUT SETTING A WATCH! No fucking wonder they flew me across an entire... FUCKING ... ocean to babysit you ugly useless pieces of shit. I wouldn't allow any of you to exist on the bottom of my fucking boots. What a SPECTACULAR waste of my time and of the Army's money. Your fathers should have jacked off into the fucking toilet and flushed all of you into a septic tank. What the fuck did I do to deserve this?" "We -" Sleeper started. "DID I ASK YOU A QUESTION, GRUNT?" Sarge trotted up to within an inch of Sleeper and screamed into his face, coating it with a liberal amount of spittle. "WHO THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DEAD MEN DON'T SPEAK YOU SHUT YOUR FUCKING DICKHOLE OR SO HELP ME GOD I WILL SHOVE MY BOOT DOWN YOUR FUCKING THROAT!" Sarge was driving himself up into a frenzied rage, and all of them knew what that meant. On the first circuit around the compound they saw Sarge helping himself to some of the deer meat, cooking it on a branch over the flames. On the second circuit around the compound they saw him sitting with Assmunch talking, and the deer carcass was gone. After the third time around Assmunch waved them over and they did fifty burpees and fifty mountain climbers, which ended them. "Set up camp." Sarge ordered. "Here? But this is -" Bootlicker tried to stop Wanker, but wasn't fast enough. "YOU PICKED THIS GODFORSAKEN POSITION! AROUND THE COMPOUND THREE TIMES. Get the fuck out of my sight." Sarge screamed. As the Bravos stumbled away for another brutal run you could hear Wanker taking a load of abuse. No one spoke when they returned and immediately began setting up camp. The location was definitely not suitable for camp. It was on a slope, the small clearing wasn't large enough and the trees too close together, the ground was uneven, and there were way too many blind spots. Only groans could be heard, along with grunts of effort. Assmunch tasked three at time to walk the perimeter and keep watch. The sun had set by the time they were through and only the fire provided light for them to see. The temperature was dropping with every minute. "Grab some water and sit down. Class starts now." Sarge said. When everyone was settled, he continued. "Private Harris, distribute the handbooks." Each of them received a RANGER'S HANDBOOK. "This is your bible. You will memorize the Ranger Creed tonight. Each of you will recite the Creed by memory before you sleep. Private Harris, read it out loud. After you finish, you'll begin Montelongo." They took out their flashlights and opened their handbooks. They would get no sleep that night