Sunrise came to Isle Monroe, and the loud tooting of a trumpet came with it, waking up all the poor volunteers residing in the island. Dex shot out of his bed, smacking his head against the bottom of Bryce's in the process.
"Ow! What the fuck, man? It's 6AM!" He complained, rubbing his head.
"It's the military, man, what were you expecting?" Bryce mumbled as he turned in his sheets. Dex rolled his eyes, and settled on staring at the window, where Thomas had been standing, fully awake with a mug of coffee in hand, staring out into the campus.
"What the hell?" Dex muttered, but Thomas paid him no mind.
"Rise and shine, victims!" Larry's voice sounded over the intercom. "Go get breakfast and present yourself at 0800 right outside the shitty stage, so essentially just go, now, NOW!"
"Larry, get away from the intercom, I'm supposed to be doing the announcements!" Liam screeched, and the line cut.
"Admiral Mason must be very proud of children." Dex added, earning a snicker from Bryce.
"How did these two even end up in the army if their dad's in the navy?" Jon pondered, also having woken up and put on his coat.
"It's probably to do with Liam's phobia of water and Larry's general lack of skill." Thomas explained, shrugging at the obviousness of the answer. The others didn't share the sentiment.
"Right, and you know about all this?" Dex crossed his arms.
"I read their files, obviously." Thomas said. Dex shook his head, while Bryce chortled at the thought of Larry's file reading 'general lack of skill'.
Caught up in the bustle of breakfast --which was bread, cheese and water-- the gentlemen of room 221 didn't even notice the time pass. Soon enough it was 8AM, and they were standing in lines in front of General Starman.
"I tried convincing the prime minister to make uniforms for you fellas, but he yammered about the budget or some such. Real shame, it'd save you all the trouble of looking like a 25-man circus act." Starman laughed at his own joke, and some trainees joined in, trying to impress him. In an instant though, his expression changed from lively to stern.
"Now, I'm sure you all think that just because I'm old and polite, I'll go easy on you, because it's your first time. Well, you're wrong! And you shouldn't assume things, because it makes an ass out of you, and me!" Starman cleared up, stroking his mustache. Silence ensued amongst the 25 trainees.
"Okay, it's your first day of training, , so let's do some light warm up, like in ye olde days. I want 10 laps around the Island, 100 push-ups, 100 sit-ups, a five minute plank and 20 pull ups at those bars over there." Starman explained.
"Uhm, would that by any chance be from all of us combined, sir?" Someone from the back whimpered. Starman broke out in heavy laughter, which shocked everyone into silence again.
"Each, kid." Starman clarified after regaining his composure. The guy grimaced.
"Uhm, would we by any chance be warming up Satan's bathtub, sir?" Dex quipped, mimicking the voice of the guy earlier.
"I dunno, Tuscan, maybe you can go ask Satan after you're done with your 5 extra pull-ups. Oh, and nobody eats lunch until everyone is done with their tasks, so I'd start running if I was in your shoes."
The moment the general finished that sentence, everyone immediately took off, with Bryce leading the pack. Jon hung out near the middle, while Dex immediately staggered, dead last, panting like he just got done running a marathon.
"Smoking is unhealthy, Dexter. Perhaps you should cut down on it." Thomas said while walking past Dex, who was going at a snail's pace.
"Fuck you, Gardner!" Dex spat, but Thomas only shook his head, as he strolled by him.
Four hours passed before everyone finished their 10 laps around the island. Dex had ditched his coat and bowtie halfway through in a failed attempt to prevent sweating, Bryce got exhausted after 2 lap because he wasn't even remotely pacing himself, Thomas walked the entire thing and somehow still managed to finish faster than half the men in the unit, and Jon did just fine like the sensible young man he is.
As everyone got ready to start their 100 push-ups, suddenly, a helicopter's blades could be heard in the distance, approaching Isle Monroe.
"Oh, would you look at that!" General Starman exclaimed. "My special delivery McDaniel's Double Bacon Cheeseburger Extra Pickles Lunch and large fries are here! And I was getting hungry too."
"We cannot be serious." Dex complained.
"Yeah man, I also want a McDaniel's Double Bacon Cheeseburger Extra Pickles Lunch! Well,maybe without the pickles." Bryce said, crossing his arms.
"Would anyone care for a fry? They're extra salty!" The general asked the trainees.
"I could go for a fry..." Bryce raised his hand, salivating at the prospect of the fry.
"Ew dude, clean your face, you look digusting." Jon told him, wincing at the sight.
"Well, you're not getting any fries, but you are getting 5 extra pull ups. Why would you want to eat fries in front of your teammates while they're struggling with their training? That would create hostility! These people could save your life out there!" Starman said as he took a large bite out of his McDaniel's Double Bacon Cheeseburger Extra Pickles Lunch.
"Awh, man..." Bryce sighed in defeat. Someone from the back row let out a snort.
"Hey, did someone laugh? I won't have you laughing at your comrades' misfortune in my camp!" Starman snapped, pointing in the general direction of the laughing guy. "5 pull-ups! I'll know if you don't do em."
By the time everyone was done, it was 4PM. Thomas powered through all the exercises in one go, finishing first and impressing the general, as well as his peers. Of course, excluding Dex, who struggled and complained the entire time. Starman felt bad for him (and everyone else waiting on him to go get lunch), so he let them go.
"Finally, man! What's wrong with you, bro?" Bryce exclaimed, when Starman dismissed them at last.
"My apologies, we can't all have six-packs." Dex spat, while wiping sweat off his face with his napkin.
"I think the problem is that you wore a bowtie for training, dude." Jon chuckled. Dex just stared at him with an annoyed expression on his face.
"Anyway, impressive job back there, man." Bryce turned to Thomas.
"Yeah, I didn't expect you to be very athletic, man. Especially after you walked all 10 of the laps." Jon added, smiling at Gardner.
"I simply saw no need to exhaust myself. But I thank you for your kind words, my friends." Thomas said, nodding at the two. Dex rolled his eyes.
"Yeah, don't get too ahead of yourself, there. Let's just eat." He commented, as the squad finally reached the mess hall, in the ground floor of the staff building.
The cafeteria was one long room, with two columns of metal benches and tables, with a stand at the far end, manned by General Douglas.
"General Douglas? Why are you handling our food?" Asked Jon.
"Ah, Johnson and his coven. Well, y'see kid, back in the days of the old rebellion I used to be the designated battlefield chef." Douglas explained, piquing Bryce's curiosity.
"Really? You don't look the type." He pointed out.
"Oh yes. We were living off the land as outlaws back then y'see. The others foraged stuff and I cooked 'em up into some great delicacies. Forest mushroom soup, roasted pinecone... Those were the days." Douglas reminisced.
"Maybe the real reason the old rebellion failed is because you all had food poisoning." Thomas said, staring right at Douglas. The others were taken aback by the sudden morbid humor.
"Are you sassing me, boy? Get outta here, you lousy medic! No food for you!" Douclas declared, pointing at the door for Thomas to leave, which he did with no objections.
"Hey, you can't do that! He has to eat something before the afternoon training session!" Jon exclaimed.
"Thanks for standing up for me, but I really don't have the need for this bog-standard excuse for a meal." Thomas said, putting a hand on Jon's shoulder, before walking out. An awkward silence ensued for a moment as Douglas prepared the dishes for the other three.
"Wow, what a weirdo." Larry walked out of the pantry carrying a bag of chips, interrupting the silence.
"Stop eating our supplies, Mason!" Douglas yelled, and threw a spatula at him, much to the surprise of everyone in the room.
___________________________________________________________________________________
The sun had set by the time everyone had gathered for afternoon training. Generals Starman and Douglas had gathered both the groups by the stage, as well as the Mason brothers.
"So, me and Chet here were thinking about how to best proceed with your training. And eventually we figured, what better way to train you than simulated combat?" General Starman proposed.
"Everybody grab a gun from this here box." Douglas ordered, kicking a box in their general direction.
"Is this a paintball gun?" Dex asked, picking up and examining one of the firearms.
"Welcome back to high school, kids." Larry snarked, snickering to himself. Liam pinched his nose in annoyance, muttering something about how 'uneducated' his brother was.
"That's today's training? Paintball?" A dude with a buzz-cut from Group B asked, more annoyed than confused.
"Against these perdedores, it will be too easy. Practically a waste of time." Some other dude with a thin mustache said, crossing his arms and smirking at Group A.
"I agree sir, let Vasquez go trim his nose hairs." Bryce commented, ticking the guy off.
"You dare insult the mostacho of Jorge Vasquez!? Nikolaoff, the cowboy is our prime target!" Vasquez declared, pulling at the buzz-cut dude's sleeve.
"Relax, Jet. These guys don't stand a chance either way." Nikolaoff told him, frowning at the opposing team.
"Sir, with all due respect, the sun has set for a while now. We cannot see anything." Thomas complained, adjusting his glasses.
"In war, there's no such thing as day or night, cadet. These are appropriate conditions! Deal with it!" Douglas yelled, stomping his foot on the ground. Thomas frowned.
"What about our clothes? This is a designer suit, man." Dex asked, gesturing towards his clothes.
"Get used to the dirt, boy. There are no changes of clothes during war, only death and despair." Douglas scolded him. Dex took a puff from his cigarette.
"Anyhow, you'll find 6 paint grenades in here that you can use. You've got 10 minutes to take your positions.
"Try not to eat any paint, you fucking pansies." Larry added, then laughed to himself, bits of chewed chips flying off everywhere and grossing everybody out. Liam slapped the chips out of his hands.
"Start!" Starman declared, and everyone started running around. Jon and Dex stayed towards the back, while Bryce rushed into enemy territory, carrying one of the paint grenades, screaming some war cry.
"Let's stick together, Dex." Jon proposed. Dex nodded, and they started carefully moving towards the center where all the battle was going on.
Thomas had caught up with Bryce, in the meantime. The pair were near the center.
"Hey, Tom! I didn't expect you to be the type to rush in. How come?" Bryce asked.
"I'd be of no use in the back." Thomas explained, then ducked under some incoming shots, before raising his pistol and retaliating, taking out some dude with a very disgusting shirt.
They continued onwards, with Thomas taking out anyone they came across.
"Hey, you're pretty good at this. Played paintball before?" Bryce asked.
"I have experience with pistols. A very unforgiving weapon, indeed." Thomas said, shooting another dude in the chest in the process. Before he could proceed, however, he was shot in the shoulder from above. Jet Vasquez was there, having taken the high-ground on a prop.
"Hell yeah! Suck it, four eyes, you're no match for the Jet-meister!" He declared,but before he could continue gloating, Bryce opened fire upon him, making him retreat.
"I'll end you, Vasquez! Just you wait!" He exclaimed, and ran towards him.
Meanwhile, Jon and Dex had made it to the center, unharmed and with minimal encounters.
"This has been rather uneventful, hasn't it?" Jon said.
"Don't jinx it, man." Dex warned him, and immediately after he said that Nikolaoff appeared before them, and tossed a grenade at them.
"Try to dodge this, nepo-babies!" He smirked, and hurled the grenade with all his might. Dex ran in front of it and tried to swat it away with his gun, but it exploded on him, covering him with orange paint from head to toe, but missing Jon.
"Oh man... I'll avenge you Dex!" Jon said, and grabbed his gun, before running towards Nikolaoff firing both weapons at him. The guy jumped behind some cover, and then tried to shoot some shots at Jon, which missed. He then decided to leave.
Before he could get away though, Jon had an idea. He emptied the barrel of Dex's discarded weapon into this hand, and tossed a bunch of paintballs on the ground, in Nik's direction. When he tried to flee, he tripped over the balls and fell flat on his face, dropping his gun, and giving Jon the opportunity to shoot him in the back.
"Well played, geek." Nikolaoff admitted, before grabbing a paintball and chucking it at Jon's face, covering it in paint.
"Hey! No fair!" Jon complained, but he was definitely out of the game."
At the other side of the field, Bryce and Jet were still looking for each other, trigger fingers itching.
"Only one person per team left! Better make it count!"Starman declared, making Bryce focus.
"I know you're there, Hansen! Me and my 'nose hairs' will be the last thing you'll see before you're covered in orange paint of glory!" Vasquez yelled. "SO SHOW YOURSELF, COWARD!"
Bryce gritted his teeth. He soon after spotted Jet, but hesitated to make a move.
"Lock in now, Bryce. What can you do to guarantee a victory?" He whispered to himself. He took a look around, and finally spotted his instrument of victory.
Bryce grabbed a brick from nearby and hurled it at Jet, smacking him directly in the face, and knocking him down.
"Ah, mierda!" Jet declared, as he clutched his nose. Bryce then ran up to him and emptied his entire barrel all over his clothes and face and hair, while yelling like a maniac.
"The cowboys beat the outlaws! Suck on that you stupid fucking loser! Yeah!" Bryce celebrated, before Liam ran up to him, outraged.
"Bryce!? Couldn't you have thrown anything else? I think you broke his nose!!" Liam yelled, flailing his arms in the air.
"Like what?" Bryce asked, genuinely confused. Liam facepalmed.
"Like that paint grenade you've been carrying, maybe!" He shot. Bryce made a face that displayed an ambivalence of emotions, both overjoyed and apologetic.
"Looks like this got a little heated, huh? Why don't you kids pass by the infirmary before you turn in for the night, yeah?" Starman encouraged them, but nobody really cared, as Group A and Group B had already begun arguing about who was a cheater and who wasn't.