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Chapter 595 - Chapter 595: Training Day (Part 2)

The bond between rough-and-tumble men often forms in straightforward ways. Sharing ice-cold beers with a few bruised and battered teammates, Jack found himself reminiscing with them about the windfall they had stumbled upon during the fight against the cannibals. They talked about how it had changed their lives.

Despite being part of SEAL Team Six, the elite of the elite, their salaries were surprisingly modest. For example, Jason Hayes, a Master Chief Petty Officer, earned just over $100,000 annually, including all allowances and bonuses.

The junior members earned even less. Clay, who had only recently shed his "rookie" status, had a yearly income similar to what Jack had made two years ago as an LAPD officer before joining the FBI.

The gold they had acquired had long since been cautiously converted into cash. Some had used it to pay off mortgages, while others had tucked it away into college funds for their kids.

Listening to these stories, Jack realized that these men were not just cold-blooded killing machines but ordinary people with families, struggles, and dreams. 

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As Jason had warned, Jack's training had only just begun. Once he had proven his ability to adapt to underwater environments, the SEALs began teaching him how to use rebreathers underwater.

Rebreathers come in two types: open-circuit and closed-circuit. Open-circuit rebreathers release exhaled gas into the water, forming visible bubbles, making them suitable for deep-water operations. 

Closed-circuit rebreathers, on the other hand, recapture exhaled gas, leaving no bubbles. However, their depth is limited to about 10 meters, making them ideal for stealth approaches rather than extensive underwater tasks.

Jack also learned underwater navigation, hand signals for communication, and sat through long and often tedious theoretical lessons.

In addition, he had to train in demolition—both land-based and underwater explosives—while continuing regular firearms training and weapon maintenance drills.

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A month passed quickly. Jason, who had been splitting his time between caring for his injured wife and overseeing Jack's training, was shocked to realize he had nearly run out of training schedules. 

Actual SEAL training is far more grueling than what Jack had experienced. It includes activities like full-gear swims in sub-15°C waters, teams carrying inflatable boats through crashing surf, paddling several miles to complete a mission, and returning with the boat slung over their shoulders.

There's also long-distance running while covered in sand, enduring the searing pain of saltwater against raw skin, and lying motionless on a wave-beaten shore while freezing winds cut to the bone—all while risking infections and sores in sensitive areas.

And then there's Hell Week—a five-day marathon of relentless physical activity with no real breaks. In those five days, trainees eat four meals a day but get less than six hours of sleep in total.

Jack was spared from these horrors, as Jason's primary goal was simply to ensure that Jack could keep up with the team and not be a liability during operations.

However, Jack quickly exceeded expectations. His physical fitness was unparalleled, and his skills in shooting, hand-to-hand combat, and close-quarters battle (CQB) rivaled those of Jason's seasoned team members.

While Jack wasn't yet on par with a fully-trained SEAL, his ability to master new skills within days and reach a proficiency level comparable to the team was astonishing.

By the end of the month, Jack had already surpassed Jason's initial expectations. With two months left in the training period, Jason was running out of ideas for new plans beyond additional CQB drills to build team cohesion.

Jason had a hunch that if Jack underwent the full 8–9 months of SEAL training, he would emerge as the kind of top-tier rookie that every squad would fight to recruit.

Fortunately, Jack soon made a request that left Jason both relieved and slightly daunted: he wanted to learn parachuting and piloting.

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After a month of training, Jack had become proficient in professional diving and small-boat piloting. Now, his sights were set on mastering aerial skills.

As a veteran Master Chief, Jason had the connections to make it happen—though Jack calling Rossi for additional backing probably helped smooth things over.

Following a mountain of paperwork and signing what felt like a stack of liability waivers, Jack was sent to Fort Benning in Georgia for basic parachuting training.

Jack started with low platform jumps, learning landing techniques and basic theory, including how to pack a parachute. From there, he moved to a towering parachute training platform. It took him only three days to progress through these steps.

For someone who could leap from three to four meters with a dramatic "hero landing," a parachute tower of mere tens of meters posed no real challenge.

A week later, Jack jumped from a small propeller plane for the first time, completing his inaugural "Lieutenant, we've landed!" moment—a tribute to the famed paratroopers of yore.

This, however, was only the beginning. After several straightforward jumps, Jack spent two weeks mastering body control in a wind tunnel, learning to adjust his posture to adapt to airflows mid-descent.

Basic parachuting becomes relatively simple once the psychological barriers are overcome. Aside from rare risks, it's a sport that even elderly people in their seventies and eighties can enjoy. Automatic parachute deployment systems are reliable, and tandem jumps allow for guidance from experienced jumpers.

But Jack wasn't satisfied with ordinary skydiving or even reaching the skill level of a standard paratrooper. In his current role, that level of expertise was just a matter of money and time.

Jack aimed higher, literally and figuratively. He set his sights on HAHO (High Altitude, High Opening) and HALO (High Altitude, Low Opening) jumps—two advanced parachuting techniques commonly used in special operations.

Unlike standard jumps, which rarely exceed 3,000 meters and require minimal equipment, these techniques are high-altitude jumps ranging from 6,000 to 10,000 meters.

At such heights, three critical challenges arise: hypoxia, hypothermia, and decompression sickness.

Hypoxia and hypothermia are straightforward enough, but decompression sickness, caused by dissolved nitrogen in the blood forming bubbles at low pressure, can be fatal. It's the same principle as the bends in deep-sea diving.

In contrast to the dramatic leaps shown in video games, real high-altitude jumps require meticulous preparation. Jack found himself strapped into a transport plane, bundled in cold-weather gear, wearing an oxygen mask, and undergoing pre-breathing to purge nitrogen from his system.

After breathing pure oxygen for 75 minutes, the cabin pressure dropped as the plane climbed higher. Soon, everyone began releasing gas involuntarily, filling the cabin with an unmistakable odor. 

Thankfully, the oxygen masks dulled the smell. The SEALs bantered on the comms, trading crude jokes and laughing like they were on a casual outing.

As the C-130's rear ramp lowered with a mechanical hum, the roaring wind drowned out the drone of the engines. Sunlight streamed into the cabin through the thin atmosphere, and Jack's adrenaline surged. His pulse quickened, and his hands instinctively clenched in anticipation.

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