Date: Sun, 10 Sep 2006 23:02:05 +0800
From: YoDawgs Bl.net <yodawgs.blnet@gmail.com>
Subject: Invisible War chapter one

The sound of silence brought Brown blinking to consciousness. Lewis was
looking down at him, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He had pushed the HUD
further up his head to allow his knuckles to massage his eyeballs. The rest
of the squad were slowly stirring to consciousness, yawning and groaning in
the process. Sergeant Lewis stretched, exposing his ribs and sucking in his
stomach, and groaned as well. Brown's gut jumped, as he saw Lewis' body on
full display. He wondered if the sergeant knew exactly how good-looking he
was. He rubbed Fuchs' back to awaken him, and the thirteen-year old sighed,
before his eyes flickered open. He looked around, disorientated, and
accidentally dug his elbow into Brown's sternum, causing the private to
gasp and suck in his breath, expanding his lungs.

"Ughh!" Brown grunted, as he had the wind knocked out of him. Fuchs
immediately removed the perpetrating elbow, and began apologising
profusely.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know! I..."

"Don't worry, Fritz. I'm not really hurt. Come on, there'll be plenty of
time to sleep afterwards." He nudged Fuchs off himself, and rose, his
stomach forming a six-pack as he returned to a sitting position without
using his hands.

"God!" he screamed, as Lewis slapped a cold hand on his abdomen, jolting
him to full consciousness.

"Glad that got you awake." Lewis grinned. The rest of the squad began
hooting in laughter. Fuchs had not fully arisen yet, and rested his head on
Brown's shoulder, trying to catch forty winks.

"Privates! File out!" Sergeant Lewis commanded.

The boy-marines resignedly complied, and exited the vehicle in order. Brown
was the very last to exit, as he had entered first, and was being prodded
on the back by Lewis, who muttered "Move, Michael. Before these punks get
unruly."

Brown gasped as he stepped out. In front of him was an enormous A-10
Warthog. Its twin turbines had been replaced by afterburners, and its tail
had been stabilised by support titanium. It lacked its full munitions; only
the Gatling cannons remained. The weather had changed; it had fallen in
temperature by a significant amount, and the occasional hailstone struck
the privates on their bare skin, making them jump. Fuchs stepped closer to
him, wanting to share the body heat.

"Flippin' `eck! That's one huge plane!" Lewis exclaimed, as he waited for
the higher-ranked members of the squad to disembark. Brown now understood
why it would take four hours, instead of the usual ten hour flight to get
to Germany. That plane could probably fly nearly as fast as the speed of
sound, he deduced.

"Privates, mount the transport!" Lewis barked. Brown rushed to the plane
first, Fuchs in tow, eager to take advantage of Brown's soft skin as a
pillow. The plane's doors had already been opened, and Brown stepped
carefully up the stairway leading into the camouflaged plane. His eyes
adjusted to the darkness as he spotted two long benches at the rear of the
plane. He walked to the very end and took a seat, fastening the seatbelts
over his shoulders and around his waist. Fuchs hastened to sit beside him,
and secured himself in a similar fashion. Lewis stood at the door, ushering
squad members in. Brown noticed a pistol attached to his utility belt, and
wondered if the sergeant had ever found a use for it out of combat before.

The higher-ranked members took seats opposite the privates; they looked
much fresher than the rest of Brown's comrades. They looked around warily
before they took their seats and whispered single-syllable words to each
other. Brown rejoiced that he had been assigned Sergeant Lewis as his
partner, and not any of the seemingly strict higher-ranked boys. The white
haired boy was about to sit beside Brown, on the seat nearest to the rear,
when Lewis barked "Hold up there, Silver!"

Brown wondered if the private's name really was Silver, or a nickname,
judging by the sheen his hair gave. Silver raised an eyebrow at Brown, and
patted him on his mole-infused chest, before moving away to another seat.

Lewis gave a "thumbs up" sign to the pilot, who was wearing red
shoulder-pads, with a diamond encircled by an oval, signifying him as a
airman. His body was bare below the shoulders like the rest of the pilots,
and he lacked the self-regulating unit that Lewis and the other members of
the squad possessed. Lewis hurried to the back the plane, and took the seat
beside Brown. Fuchs was already dropping off to sleep, his head resting on
Brown's shoulder and causing minor discomfort to the boy. He decided to
turn his body toward Lewis, and allow Fuchs to rest his head on his
shoulder blades. After a few seconds, he found the sensation unpleasant,
and mimicked Silver's style, of allowing Fuchs to rest on his breast.

Lewis smiled, while shaking his head.

"I think he likes you, Michael." He said under his breath. "But don't tell
him I said that. I'd lose my lovely reputation as the biggest "badass", as
you Americans call it." He added. "Even to those guys." He motioned to the
half-naked higher-ranked members of the squad, who were staring straight
ahead. Brown heard a soft growling noise, and wondered if an animal was on
board. He looked around, and Lewis burst out laughing.

"God, I'm so hungry." He rubbed his abdomen, running his fingers over his
fourteen-year old six-pack. Brown smiled with amusement at the antics of
the staff sergeant.

"Argh..." Lewis groaned, as his stomach lurched again. "I need to eat!" he
said dreamily, drawing out a chocolate bar from the pouch attached to his
utility belt. Brown's salivary glands began to water when he realised it
was a Kinder-Bueno chocolate bar. He could not keep his eyes off Lewis, as
the sergeant chewed his way through the bar, crunching it between his
teeth. Finally, Lewis reached the last bit of the candy bar, and slowly
moved it towards his mouth, eyes closed, mouth wide open. Brown almost
could not bear the hunger and the temptation to snatch it out of his
partner's hands, when suddenly Lewis grinned, opened his eyes, and said,

"Hungry, Mike? Here, have some chocolate. All you had to do was ask." He
pressed the last bit of chocolate into Brown's right hand, and lay back
against the cushioned harness of the plane, closing his eyes and nursing
his stomach. Brown was furious at the way Lewis had tortured him with the
candy bar. All that time, he was staring wide eyed at the sergeant,
breathing in and out, drooling, when he could have asked for a piece. He
crammed the chocolate bit into his mouth and savoured the taste for a long
time, before he swallowed it. He looked around for a moment; the squad
seemed to have fallen into a state of lethargy, even the higher-ranked boys
were leaning on one another's shoulders. Silver had found the tanned blonde
squad member from the APC and was talking animatedly to him, while the
private seemed to be using his chest as a pillow.

He leant back, inwardly glad that Fuchs was here to share the body heat,
along with Lewis, who appeared to be radiating it. He scratched Fuchs on
the back, and the private sighed a little, leaning even more onto
Brown. Lewis had lifted his arms and placed them behind his head, evidently
trying to find some sleep. Brown stared at his partner, unable to tear his
eyes off his wonderful physique. Freckles were etched all over Lewis'
chest, and he even had a few moles on his abdomen, including one just
beside his navel. Brown's gut lurched a few times as he admired Lewis'
body. This, coupled with the exposure of Lewis' underarms and the form of
his ribs, made Brown extremely tempted to touch the sergeant's body. He
stayed the urge, and satisfied himself by rubbing his fingers over Fuchs'
exposed back, feeling the sticky skin which indicated that sweat had dried,
and gently massaging the German boy's shoulders, which caused Fuchs to
groan and mutter softly in his sleep.

"Cayden."

"What?"

"Was I conscripted because my parents were killed by the terrorists?"

"What makes you say that?"

"I don't know."

"Well, yes. You were. You see, what we're doing here is very illegal
indeed, if there ever is such a word nowadays. You are being forced into
this program, and although as blatant as it may seem, only a select amount
of people are chosen for the gel. Not everyone out there is going to have
the gel. Most are being trained to be soldiers to be used in the next
decade, when they are physically fit. Forget what I said back then. You ARE
going to have the gel injected into you, whether you like it or
not. They're just waiting for you to grow to their standards."

"What sort of standards are they looking at?"

"When you become an adolescent. When the first stages of puberty strike
you. You won't know when it's coming, but they will. The 21st Mechanised
Infantry Regiment, or whatever you want to call it, is only a codename for
your batch. Nobody knows we exist. Not until before they're killed,
anyway. Our mission is not to engage in frontline combat, but it is to
perform covert operations undercover wherever we are. Of course, we get
much more rest than the other people in the army, but our operations place
us at greater risk. You will undergo your training in Aldershot, in the
United Kingdom. A former Special Air Service base has been altered to suit
our requirements."

Brown nodded. The information was almost too much to process. How could he,
regular schoolboy only a few days ago, become a secret agent for a
multinational power? And in only a few months as well! Why were these
people so interested in him and his body? He glanced down at his own torso,
partially blocked by Fuchs' slowly rising and falling body.

There was nothing vaguely interesting in his body, he thought to
himself. He looked with distaste at his developing breast, and faint
six-pack. He knew that they paled in comparison to Lewis' half-developed,
but perfect body. He decided to shift his gaze onto the German teen, who
was slumbering on him, and decided to join him. He fell asleep almost
immediately, the air-conditioner of the plane pleasantly cooling him.


He gasped awake as Lewis' hand lightly descended on his shoulder. The plane
was devoid of any noise and movement, so Brown was sure the A-10 had landed
without any difficulties. The rest of the team was in various states of
dishevel ness or in slumber.  "Welcome to Aldershot, fellas." Lewis
announced to the waking boys.

"I thought we were going to Munich!" Silver said loudly.

"That was a cover-up. I'll explain later." Lewis unbuckled the seatbelt and
stumbled out of the plane into the open grassy plains of Great
Britain. Brown groaned and nudged Fuchs awake, while the rest of the team
followed Lewis out into the field. The autumn wind blew very strongly over
all of the boys, and Brown shivered once more in the cold air. Lewis
beckoned to the troops.

"Follow me." He headed through the long grass of the meadows to a bunker
that was hidden so well that any ordinary person would not have been able
to find it unless they knew exactly where it was. He rapped on the metal
door and it whined open, seemingly of its own accord. Brown was surprised;
he had not expected such a low-levelled in technology structure to still be
utilised.  He was expecting the high-tech computers and tracking systems
that he had seen in the recruitment office for the past three days.

Lewis headed inside, not bothering to order the team to follow him. The
higher-ranked members filed in after him, and Brown hastened to enter the
complex before he became too cold. The covert operations team gripped
themselves with their arms to warm themselves up. Lewis appeared from a
side door with five combat jackets and tossed them to the new members.

"Here, wear those until we can find shirts that suit your size." He said.

He turned and walked into another room. Brown could hear him busy fussing
over some contraption, and waited with the other members, shivering
slightly. He donned the brown camouflaged jacket, zipped it up, and
immediately felt warmer. These were old military-grade jackets from the
time of the USA and UK Coalition, from the time the United Nations had the
power to perform peacekeeping operations. This must have been some
derelict, disused outpost of a military force. Military Intelligence, that
is. A hand tapped him on the shoulder.

He looked around, expecting Fuchs. Instead, there was an oriental boy, with
spiked up black hair, matching black eyes that were shaped in the orthodox
Chinese form and tanned brown skin. The insignia that stated his rank could
clearly be seen on his chest, as he had not zipped up the jacket, merely
allowing it to hang over his shoulders. He had a slightly muscular torso,
but was devoid of moles and freckles of any sort.

"Hey there. I'm Joshua."

"Hi, Joshua, I'm Michael. How are you?"

"Oh, I'm good. I'm a little jet-lagged, though. They had to fly me all the
way from London to the USA and back here again. I wonder what's going to
happen to us."

He spoke with a near-perfect British accent, rivalling Lewis', except that
he had a more educated tone to it, while Lewis used various slang that
signified that he was born in the East end of London.

"You have a very British accent, you know?"

"So they say." He replied, not mentioning who "they" were. "I can't help
it. I was born here, so I'm a British Born Chinese. My roots, of course,
are in China, but I can't for the life of me remember where I've descended
from. I would fail, miserably, as a good citizen of the Chinese People's
Republic."

He grinned, exposing brilliantly white teeth. Brown liked him
instantly. Unlike Fuchs, who was more of an introvert, Joshua was unafraid
of expressing his opinion, and bridging connections. Joshua stretched
himself, and leant against the stone wall of the bunker. Brown looked
around, trying to memorise the features of the people with whom he would be
planning operations, as well as participating in them. He recognised the
ruddy-bodied blonde, which had leant onto Silver, the platinum-blonde
headed boy, who was idly chatting with Fritz, who looked uncomfortable at
being asked questions, the jacket zipped up to the top.

There was a sudden clang of machinery, and radiators hummed on. Lewis
strode out of the room, looking obviously pleased with himself. His body
was mildly splattered with slicks of oil.

"There! The radiators are functioning perfectly now. Feel free to remove
your jackets, but bear in mind that they are your responsibility now. You
don't have the implants that I, or your "senior" members have, so it will
be cold when you step outside. Very cold. Especially since it's in the
middle of winter here. This is not the United States, privates. It will be
cold, I repeat. Now, this bunker was used by the SAS... that's Special Air
Service to you, the special tactics team of the UK that used to hold this
country together. Now, they're just a bunch of old sods sitting round a
desk in a computer room." He paused for breath. "This facility contains all
the necessities that you will need. First of all, this is your training
camp for the next few months, and also your home. You will learn how to
fight, handle Coalition weaponry efficiently, develop the instincts of a
competent agent, and finally to plan and execute operations
successfully. It will not be easy."

He clapped his hands.

"Time to settle down. Warrant Officer Harrison here will show you your
living quarters, and there you will make room for yourselves. There are
only seven beds, so you'll need to choose your sleeping partners, if you
feel so inclined. Any private who does not have a bed and a sleeping
partner will bunk on the ground." He pointed to the dusty, damp floor of
the compound. "I mean it. Harrison, if you please."

Warrant Officer Harrison, a red-head with green eyes, with a five-foot
three frame, beckoned to the boys, and they lined up behind him. He led
them down the corridor, and made a left turn. Brown followed obediently,
and tailed Joshua into a room at the end of the passage. Despite what Lewis
said, there were only four beds. This meant that each and every person had
to have a sleeping partner. Thinking fast, he decided to ask someone,
anyone, if they would be willing to share a bed with him. He certainly did
not want to end up on the floor, as there were ten people and four beds.

Two shouts of "Michael!" were heard, as Fuchs and Joshua called out to
him. The two boys stared at each other, green eyes challenging black. Fuchs
timidly turned to Michael and said uncertainly

"Please...?" while Joshua repeatedly jabbed a thumb at his chest, waving at
Brown. He was in a dilemma here. He certainly did not want to hurt Fuchs'
feelings, as the boy would probably end up on the floor with his introvert
characteristic. On the other hand, he found Joshua an extremely likeable
person, and most certainly did not want to end the friendship with such a
harsh note. What was he to do?

"Michael." Lewis' voice startled him from behind. He turned around and
faced the staff sergeant with a stiff back.

"Why don't all three of you sleep in one bed? There's more than enough
space." Brown nodded. "I'll probably share one with Matthew
Silver. Someone's going to have to keep him in check, or he'll probably
burn down this entire place. Central Command wouldn't be too pleased with
me." He chuckled.

"Excellent!" Joshua launched himself at the bed, throwing his jacket at the
bedpost. There was no inherent response from Fuchs, but Brown knew that he
was pleased.

"Alright, people." Lewis' voice echoed strangely around the small
room. "You've got till six o clock Greenwich Meridian time, to do whatever
you want. Then, we'll have the icebreaking session. A very good idea would
be to start introducing yourselves during the..." he glanced at his
eyepiece. "Three hour break you have. Now, I'm going to have a cup of tea
with your training officers." He strode out of the room, boots making a
clopping sound as he walked down the passage.

Brown sighed. He felt extremely tired, although he had had a rest in the
plane. He removed the jacket, exposing his body to cooler air, which he
revelled in, and hung it over Joshua's jacket, before sinking slowly onto
the bed. Fuchs followed suit, carefully avoiding touching him. He laughed.

"Don't worry, Fritz. I'm not gonna kill you if you touch me. Well, not
unless you've got some poison hidden in your skin." Fuchs smiled nervously,
and shyly stroked Brown's arm, which sent them both laughing again. Joshua
rolled over, oriental body exposed to Brown's view. He gazed with curiosity
at the Chinese boy lying with his hands behind his head. Everything seemed
so... smooth, compared to his body. Joshua had a hole in his stomach, which
announced the presence of his navel, and a slight bulging of his abdominal
muscles.

Brown looked at Joshua's chest, which was clearly developed. He gazed at
the Chinese boy's nipples, and nearly let out a gasp of amazement. In the
area where there were supposed to be the nipple, surrounded by the areola,
there was a cleft! Before he had time to marvel at this spectacle, Joshua
opened his eyes, and spotted Brown's expression. He looked down at his own
chest, and laughed.

"I've always wondered why I've got inverted nipples. It's not that I'm
obese or anything like that. It's really weird." Brown nodded, and slowly
extended his finger to touch them. Joshua made no sign of protest as Brown
slowly stroked the area around the "hole", and admired the firmness of the
breast.

"Wow... do you actually feel anything?" Brown asked, as he ran his finger
over the cleft. Joshua shook his head.

"Not at all. Not unless you touch inside it." The oriental boy blushed, his
tanned skin being made even darker. Fuchs leant over, eyes wide open with
curiosity. The fluorescent lights flickered momentarily, stopping all
chatter for a split second. Fuchs nudged Brown on the shoulder, and pointed
to Silver, who was striding nonchalantly toward them. The platinum-haired
boy rested his five foot three frame on the bed post, skin making contact
with the metal, and forming goose bumps. He had small eyes, which were
brilliantly blue, along with a long nose and almost invisible pink lips,
which supplemented the characteristic of being "angelic". He grinned at
them, and sat at Joshua's legs.

"Hi there! I'm Matthew. Matthew Silver, but you probably know that
already. The sergeant's been on my case for the whole day. I'd be surprised
if you didn't know me."

"I'm Michael, nice to meet you. This is Fritz." He motioned to the
dark-haired German boy sitting beside him. Fuchs waved a timid hand at him,
and looked down immediately.

"Michael, Fritz. Pleasure." He replied. "And who's this?" he poked the
dozing Chinese boy in the stomach, causing a tensing of the muscles.

"Oh, he's Joshua. I don't know his last name."

"It's Leeeee..." the prone boy groaned.

"Excuse me?"

"Joshua Lee. I don't have a middle name."

"Oh. Nice to meet you, Joshua Lee." Brown grinned. Lee tried to sit up to
extend greetings, but Silver pushed him back down to the bed, hand on his
stomach.

"Don't worry. I wouldn't wanna interrupt your trip to la-la land." He
chuckled. "Hey, Martin! Get over here!" he called out. A few of the senior
members (although they did not look a year older than thirteen/fourteen)
frowned at the sudden breach of the quiet chattering. The blonde boy with a
flushed body hurried over from the conversation that he was involved in
with three of the senior members.

"Meet my twin." He motioned to the slightly panting youth. Brown
gaped. They looked extremely different from each other. He had originally
thought them to be friends, but he was mistaken. Even though Martin had a
different body from Matthew's, he still had the arched eyebrows and the
round chin of his brother.

"Don't look so surprised." Martin said. "We're fraternal twins. Mom popped
out two eggs instead of one, so I gotta make do with this idiot over
here. You know, he was born thirty seconds before me, thank god. Maybe
being the second one out gifted me with more intelligence. And do you
know..."

He was cut off as Matthew pulled him onto the bed viciously and began
digging his fingers into his ribs, creating a tiny "bed-quake", as its
springs groaned from the pressure that Martin was exhibiting on it. He let
out silent peals of laughter, mouth wide open, as Matthew relentlessly dug
into his torso.

"I-I-I'm gonna.. ki-ki-Kill you!" Martin tried to voice out, as his body
disallowed him to function normally.

Eventually Matthew ceased the attack on his brother, and left him panting,
atop Lee's body. The contrast of colour between the two bodies; Asian and
Caucasian, were almost non-existent, Martin's body being extremely flushed
as well. Lee blinked his eyes at the red shoulder that was directly in his
line of sight.

"Do you live near a beach or something, Martin? You're really, really..."
he struggled to find the words, and settled for "Dark." Martin flinched.

"Oh, I dunno. I've been like that ever since I can remember."

"You wanna know why? It's coz he's always stressing and stressing about
little things, like when you're in the bathroom, taking a crap, you stress,
and your whole face goes red. Well, my bro's different. He stresses all the
time. You can see that, eh?" he motioned to his brother's red torso. Martin
glared at him.

"Very funny, Matt."

Fuchs let out a sudden yawn, and blinked his eyes, clearing them of
tears. He looked around, and went red.

"Sorry."

"What? You're saying sorry because you yawned? Get outta here!" Matthew
exclaimed. Fuchs permitted himself a small grin, before he settled on the
bed beside Lee, once again subtly resting his chest on the unsuspecting
shoulder of the sleepy Chinese boy.

"So where are you all from?" he asked the blonde brothers.

"Oh, we're from Kiwiland." Martin replied. Amidst raised eyebrows, he
sighed.

"Fine. We're from New Zealand. North Island." He referred to the islands as
if they were close to one another, whilst, in reality, the South Island had
had half its body blown off by a nuclear device planted by one of the
terrorists from the same group that killed all their parents.

"Right. You ever gone surfing before?"

Surfing was an old sport, which was discontinued due to the high toxicity
of the sea. The environment had the governments of the developed countries
to blame. China, being one of the world's most eminent manufacturers,
siphoned over three hundred million gallons of waste into the oceans. This
was after the discovery of the use of platinum to dramatically enhance the
productivity of machines, but which also meant that the pollution created
was tenfold.

"Oh, we actually went last year, change of subject, tsk tsk." Matthew said,
before he stared briefly into space.

"Our parents were alive then. It was during December, a nice hot summer. We
went to a marine park with artificially created waves. I had so much fun
there. And then, mom and dad had to go and watch that stupid cricket
match. I wish I could..." his face went red with exertion. "I wish I could
tear out those bastards' hearts and feed it to the dogs. Why did this
happen to us?" he ranted, viciously slandering the Liberalist terrorist
cell.

"Matt, take it easy." Martin gripped his shoulder.

"We could have had a good life. All that's about to change now."

"It will be better. I promise. This place, the sergeant, all of them aren't
as bad as I thought they were. I even spoke with our leaders, and they said
that we'd be able to live normal lives, except when they call us to do
missions. We'll get to go to school, and we'll get our life back. Isn't
that what mom and dad would want us to do?"

"You're right, as always." Matthew sighed. "Geez, I guess all that
stressing does a world of good for you."

"Shaddap, you idiot." Martin snapped. "I'm trying to comfort you here."

"So who else is joining your bed?" Brown asked.

"Oh, my partner." Matthew immediately replied. "His name's Mark Roberts."
He motioned to a black-haired boy, who was conversing animatedly with the
rest of the higher-ranked "squad" members. Curiously enough, Brown was
unable to ascertain as to which ethnicity the boy belonged to. He had the
high cheekbones of the European people, but there was something amiss about
the shape of the face and the nose. Oh, never mind. He would figure that
out after dinner. Now was the time to rest.

"You know what, Matt? Martin?" he gave a genuine yawn. "I'm really sleepy
as well. I think I'll take a little nap before dinner."

"Yeah? Okay, then. We'll see you just now, then." They hopped off the bed
and rejoined the rest of the team, contributing to the ongoing
conversation.

Fuchs lifted himself on his elbows immediately, a hopeful look in his eye
as Brown lay on the bed, right arm rubbing against Lee's ribs. He gazed
longingly at Brown's torso, hoping and hoping for the offer that he dare
not make. Brown suddenly spotted Fuchs' expression and laughed.

"Oh, come on, Fritz! You don't even need to ask."

"What...? I wasn't gonna ask for anything..." Fuchs began earnestly, but
trailed off Brown glared at him, making him quail.

"Come on. Just lie down."

Fuchs very slowly rested his chest on Brown's body, and could not resist
letting out a small sigh of relief as his chest once again was devoid of
any irritation and pain. He adjusted himself so that his torso was
perpendicular to Brown's.

"Thanks, Mike." The German boy groaned. "You don't know how much..."

"Shh... I'm trying to sleep. I know what you're gonna say anyway."

Lee mumbled a few words in his sleep as Brown eventually managed to fall
asleep amidst the talking and laughing of his peers. Fuchs occasionally
shifted, sighed, and groaned, as sleep moved him, making the bulges of his
chest and stomach apparent against Brown's torso.

He awoke with a jolt, bedsprings creaking. For a split-second, he wondered
where he was, but a small grunt along with a weight on his chest brought
him back to his surroundings. He had unconsciously laid his arm over Fuchs'
body, and was hugging him as he would a bolster. A brown arm across his
chest announced Lee's presence, and that he was still deep in slumber.

"Time's up!" Lewis' crisp voice echoed through the room. Fuchs started
violently, tensing his body. The dark haired boy rolled over onto the bed
with a groan, rubbing his eyes. Lee stretched himself, sighing with
release. Lewis' face appeared above Brown suddenly, with a slight grin on
his face.

"Don't make me give you the `cold treatment' again, Mike." Lewis
warned. Brown's eyes widened and he scrambled to a sitting position,
placing his hands on his torso to stop Lewis from touching his body with
his hands. To no avail, however. Lewis pressed his palm onto his back,
behind his stomach, and he yelped with the extremely cold sensation,
arching his back forward and attempting to shove Lewis' hand away. He then
felt Lewis' other hand press onto his front and howled with anguish as he
tried in vain to escape. Fuchs and Lee chuckled as they watched him suffer
his torment.

"We're going to have tea in a couple of minutes. There won't be any
radiators in the room where we're eating, so wear your jackets if you don't
want to freeze. I mean it." He said, in a final tone.

Lee still lay on the bed, issuing shallow breaths in sync with the rising
and falling of his chest. Brown patted him on the shoulder, and he awakened
immediately with a gasp. They followed Lewis down the corridor into an
unusually large room that looked too big to fit in an underground bunker.

"This will be your last day of rest for a long time." Lewis announced to
the team. "You too." He motioned to the senior team members. "Your training
begins after today. Now eat."