Boot Camp Summary
Boot camp was four weeks of constant yelling, physical exertion, lack of sleep, and games to test the recruits. All of this was designed to remodel each recruit’s way of thinking to the navy way. Internally John rolled his eyes at all the attempts to break him down and build him up. He was already Navy though and through. Though his attitude towards leadership was the lone thing that needed to be rebuilt. He was at least getting better at hiding his disgust or annoyance at orders he didn’t like. Especially those that came from superior officers that wouldn’t work.
No recruit would ever be dumb enough to talk back to a drill sergeant at boot camp. John thought that was general knowledge. It was a sad surprise that some of his fellow recruits tried to question drill sergeants. The individuals in question quickly learned that failure to comply results in lots of running, up-downs, and climbing. John hadn’t run any more than he needed to, and he was already tired of the physical exertion.
John’s platoon was assigned two student commanders when they first arrived. This appeared to be assigned based on who was rich or well-connected. Patrice Vernon was one. Jason Vern was the other. Patrice was an arrogant ass but generally competent. Vern on the other hand was not only incompetent, but he didn’t possess an ounce of leadership material. In what little downtime they had John searched for their backgrounds and discovered that Vern was the eldest son of a politician.
Vern’s incompetence was on full display during their first two wargames. In the first one, their platoon won only because of the quick thinking of Andern and John sacrificing himself by drawing most of the enemy fire away from the few remaining members of their platoon. John nearly had to be separated from Vern during the after-action review in the classroom.
Patrice’s performance wasn’t horrible, but he wasn’t actively helping the squad as a whole succeed. His focus was primarily on his small clique and ensuring they survived or weren’t the primary targets. Patrice didn’t like John but even he could tell by the end of the first game that he was a useful member of the platoon that could be counted to eliminate targets left and right. But Patrice wasn’t able to convince John to be part of his squad.
The second wargame effectively resulted in a revolt against Jason. His orders made no sense, were putting people into danger for no benefit. After two hours of utter futility, John had enough and took over command of the squad. No friendly fire occurred during the mission, but John was sorely tempted to do that. Twenty minutes later the squad had succeeded in their mission but was over forty minutes overdue.
The after-action review was less than pleasant. John was cleared of any wrongdoing but was reprimanded for not handling it more professionally. The reprimand was later changed to a warning because of the simple fact they were in a simulated wargame under duress. Jason was then dismissed as executive platoon officer and John was promoted to squad leader, irritating Patrice in the process.
This pissed off Patrice’s crew to no end. By the end of the fourth wargame, John was elevated to the commanding officer of the platoon, and Patrice was demoted to John’s old role. The rich kids, sans Alice, didn’t want John anywhere near them. The irony was during wargames they viewed him as their platoon’s ace in the hole. John thought that was typical, one can only be valuable to that crew if you provide them some benefit.
01:30. Cargo Transport
The last wargame before the recruits graduated from boot camp was nearly underway. They were only a few hours from being sent off to the academy and the start of their careers.
The transport plane the recruits were transporting them to the LZ was loud as hell. John had a warm MRE in hand and he was starving. John and the rest of the cadets were tired because they had been up twenty hours already. He found an open seat and sat down. He smiled at a thought he had, how had Jess managed to get through basic?
“John, what are you smirking at?” Jacob Andern sat down across from John.
“Ah hell, was just imagining what kind of mess my fling and coworker back in Miami started here. Legit think she drove those drill sarges crazy.”
“Still with the lies that you were a Field Agent. I think not,” Patrice Vernon yelled across the table.
Patrice’s attitude was as constant as it was annoying. The arrogant prick still talked down to John despite not beating John in a single part of training. His attitude towards John was reinforced because of being demoted to the second in command behind Lief.
“What’s in the bag?” Patrice asked.
“Believe what you want. I’m not here to try and prove you wrong,” John then slapped the bag, “Let’s call this an insurance policy.”
“Why do you let him talk to you like that? Half our platoon met at the base. They all saw you leave the secure part of the building,” Jessica Blatzke sat next to Jacob.
John finished eating a brownie from the MRE, “Arguing with someone that believes their shit to not stink isn’t high up on my list of things to do. He can say or believe whatever he wants to so long as it doesn’t risk the mission.”
A grin crossed his lips. He knew Patrice heard that. John also knew this not-so-subtle trolling attempt would get under his skin.
The lights in the plane shifted from red to leave unexpectedly. John stuffed the last bit of the MRE in his mouth, then tossed the MRE bag in the trash can. It was nearly go-time, and it came sooner than they expected.
John hollered, “Ten minutes to drop. You have five minutes to finish eating and gear up for the drop.”
Everyone was finishing up and beginning their last gear check. Except Patrice and his clique. Unsurprisingly, they were in no rush to get their gear on.
The light started to blink. “That’s five minutes to drop, line up platoon! God fucking dammit Patrice,” John bellowed, “Don’t fuck this up for the rest of us. You're fucking useless to us if you get taken out after splashdown.”
“Piss off Lief, I know what I’m doing.”
John noticed that the yellow light began blinking faster, “Drop in thirty seconds. Patrice don’t fuck this up for us.”
John motioned to the platoon. John hooked his parachute line on a different point than the platoon. He would jump once the rest of his squad was out of the plane. They were about to jump out of a cargo plane, land in the ocean, swim five hundred yards to shore and then assault a compound manned by another platoon.
“GO GO GO GO!” yelled John.
One by one his platoon jumped out of the plane. Patrice and his followers clicked on it at the last possible second.
John thought, ‘That motherfucker, he made it in the nick of time.’
Eighteen minutes after splashdown the platoon had finished their swim and was getting their gear prepped in the cover of some trees and overgrown wild grass just past the beach. John’s swim was complicated by the fact his bag didn’t want to float.
“We got a problem. Base geometry is off. The one we trained for yesterday isn’t this one,” Johnson piped up.
“Shit, our intel’s fucking useless now. Scouts up front!” John ordered.
A few faces in the platoon smirked at that comment.
“Jacob and Jessica. Recon the base, stay out of sight,” Patrice said as knelt down next to Lief looking at the map.
“You heard the man. Be back in fifteen,” Lief ordered.
A pair of quick rogers were said and they disappeared into the night.
“Thoughts Patrice? Open floor for the rest y’all too,” John inquired.
Patrice had pointed where they were on the map. Different mission, this didn’t bode well for the platoon.
“We split into three squads. Two squads attack in different locations to suppress the enemy. The other squad goes into the base in an unguarded area and recovers the intel.”
John agreed with Patrice’s plan. It certainly had its merits. Two smaller squads make as much noise as possible while another squad grabs the intel. The concern was spreading themselves too thin.
The group looked at the map. A beach assault wasn’t going to happen. There was a sheer face twelve feet high facing the ocean. It would take too long and make too much noise. Discussions were had about the merits of where to move, how close to get, and so on. A couple of recruits had scraped off the grass and began making a small diorama with rocks and twigs.
John checked his watch, then touched his vest and began talking into the microphone on his helmet. “Scouts, fall back and report.”
The scouts responded that they were two minutes out and returning to their location. The group continued to spitball an attack plan together. But the lack of hard intel made it hard to commit to anything. But when the scouts returned, they found out they were in deep shit.
“Fuck us. So, there are three platoons in the base? It’s that fucking mission,” John was incensed, he had heard about this mission and its success rate was effectively 0%.
“Lief, the place is crawling with guards. The good news is there’s some pretty good terrain to the north and west of the camp that we can fire from and be pretty safe from return fire,” Jessica pointed at the drawing on the ground and dropped some small rocks to represent where they were in relation to the base.
“And this area over here was pretty light on the guards. The third squad could enter over here,” Jacob added.
“Doesn’t look like any crossfire either from those positions either,” Patrice was pointing with a stick from both secured positions.
“The problem we’re facing is firepower. Two positions with a third of the platoon each are going to get ground down by three enemy platoons. The third squad could fire when they are in close range and pick off a fair few, but then we’re waiving dicks at the enemy danger close. It’s not going to be enough,” John was annoyed, this mission normally impossible to pull off, “Patrice, if teams one and two had half the platoon how long you figure y’all could hold out against the guards?”
“If they sit in the base. Ten minutes, but no more than fifteen. They’d know that if they rushed at us, they’d get cut down. If we stay put too long, we risk getting flanked. There’s also the finite amount of ammo we have. Need to shoot smartly and have their heads on swivels.”
John looked at the extra bag he brought with him. It was time to call an audible.
“Blatzke, you’re in charge of squad one, Patrice keeps squad two. The two of you split our platoon between you. I’ll go in solo to get the intel.”
“You’re out of your fucking mind Lief,” Patrice was over, and with John’s bravado, “No one’s hot shit enough to survive that.”
Lief was already behind the platoon and had stripped down to his thermal wear. The other bag he brought was open and its contents were exposed to everyone.
“Shit Lief, is that what I think it is?” Andern asked.
“Yes. And your right Patrice, without this stealth suit you’d be right. Oh, compliments of Naval Intelligence. They can’t shoot at what they can’t see,” John smirked, “Besides, this is what I do best.”
He zipped up the front of the suit. John was holding the helmet in his left hand. The stealth suit made one effectively invisible. Its drawbacks weren’t going to hinder him tonight. The major downside to wearing a stealth suit is they get uncomfortably warm when the stealth field was active. The amount of sweating that typically happened which results in both the user and the suit smelling like the worst locker room known to mankind.
“Squad one takes the north rocks, second takes the west rocks. Designated marksmen coordinate your shooting. You guys take the first shots, hopefully, you can take out a dozen or so guards before they react. After that the second volley from the DMRs, y’all just hammer the fuck of the front of the base. Make it look like you are bigger than you are. I’ll go in the back and enter the bunker and get the intel. If all goes well, I extract and go to Bravo exfil and y’all go to Charlie exfil. Questions or concerns?”
“What happens if it's people you need to get out?” Blatzke and Patrice asked at the same time.
“Then we’re either properly fucked and or I have to go full Rambo on them. Try and jam their coms, keep ours open. I’ll be radio silent till I get to the bunker. Check your gear, we head out in two minutes,” John holstered his sidearm and got his rifle ready.
“Last thing, what happens if your ass gets capped?” Alice asked.
“If I’m dead, fall back immediately to the exfil. The mission will have failed at that point, don’t throw your lives away. We may lose, but it’ll show command that we’re smart enough to live and fight another day.”
“Patrice. Split the rest of my ammo,” John tossed eight rifle mags on the ground.
“You sure?”
Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.
“Limited space and time for spare mags. Gonna have to run with what’s in my gun and two spares. If I get low, we’re all properly fucked. I’ll try and scavenge more when I’m in the base.”
Patrice nodded. He wasn’t in love with the plan, but the stealth suit at night was going to be difficult, if not impossible, for their opponents to overcome. If it’s a tablet or laptop, he can get in and out without anyone knowing. If it’s a hostage or something, getting them out of the base is going to be complicated, to say the least.
“God speed everyone, move out,” John pulled the mask over his face and engaged the suit. He vanished from sight and then all they heard was someone running through a forest.
Lief was sprinting towards the edge of the forest, that was his mark for when he’d have to slow down to not make as much noise. Luckily with the suit’s HUD, he could see at night almost as good as if it were the day. That helped him limit the amount of noise he generated. He started to slow down fifty yards from the edge of the forest. What he saw when he got to the tree line irritated him to no end.
“Squads one and two, FOUR platoons’ worth of enemies, repeat FOUR platoons. A shitload of folks just exited the bunker. Setting an explosive on this tree. Explosive will go off when the DMRs start shooting. Give ‘em hell,”
A pair of affirmatives were received. The explosive device was secured to the tree. John bumped the tree with his fist.
“Thanks, tree, you’re coming sacrifice is appreciated.”
John activated the stealth field on his suit and was able to slip into the compound undetected and was now moving around the bunker. He had taken out a couple of the recruits that were patrolling the ocean-facing side of the facility. He was certain both recruits shit their pants when he attacked.
It had to be freaky as hell to have some invisible things grab them and shoot them at point-blank range. To add to the discomfort, they were dragged over into an area with tall grass along the sea wall where John got some spare magazines. He continued skulking around in the darkness.
John was just a few paces from the west side of the bunker. Luckily the door he was looking at was half-assed assembled and a sizable gap extended on the bottom. He crept over to the door and pulled out a flexi-camera from his left wrist and placed it under the door. The camera feed appeared on his HUD. Three recruits were confirmed to be relaxing around a table playing cards. Possibly one but no more than two more were on the back corner but he couldn’t verify that for sure.
All was silent and tense, until the moment the marksman started to open fire. The tree blew up and all hell broke loose on the base. The platoons that were guarding that part of the base were completely caught off guard and were out in the open. Their initial alpha strike took out close to two platoons worth of recruits.
John fell back from the door when he heard movement from inside the bunker. Moments later the four guards from inside ran out of the bunker. John leveled his suppressed sidearm and quickly shot all four individuals in the back. Because of the hellacious amount of suppressing fire from the front of the base no one had noticed the commotion back at the bunker.
John reloaded and then holstered his pistol and brought his assault rifle to bear. He opened fire at a squad that was taking cover from the suppressing fire from Jessica’s squad. He flicked the assault rifle into burst fire and pulled the trigger ten times which would empty the magazine. His kill tally increased by nine. Only one of the recruits that were sheltering in place remained unharmed.
He dropped the mag and reloaded his gun while running into the bunker. To his delight, the intel target was a tablet. He plugged into it and made a copy of the contents and transmitted the data back to their base. He walked back to the door and began scanning his surroundings.
“Intel acquired, transmitting, twenty-five percent,” John said to his platoon.
“Ammo at fifty percent,” Patrice said over their shared coms.
“Squad one, stop conserving ammo. Make as much noise as possible. Squad two, maintain operations,” John ordered, “Upload complete, going to lay down some covering fire from the bunker, then head to exfil.”
John ran out of the bunker and was crouched behind the front tires of an old transport vessel. With a fresh mag in his gun, John began laying down fire from behind the squads.
“Squad two, light shit up. Squad one, fall back to exfil. When squad one hits the tree line then you fall back. I’ll cover your retreat.”
John’s second magazine was now empty, he dropped it, reloaded, and continued firing. He scooted over to a fallen recruit and swiped two more mags. Squad two was now falling back, John was putting bursts into the squads on the east side of the base, keeping them in place long enough for his platoon to get to cover.
The enemy platoon began returning fire in John’s general direction. A couple of random shots got a bit too close for comfort. John got into cover and dropped the mag from the gun and reloaded the last magazine he had. He dashed toward the sea wall and jumped over it into the ocean twelve feet down. He landed in deeper water than expected, catching him off guard momentarily. He swam back to the beach and was running at full sprint once he got out of the water.
The attack lasted a bit over nine minutes. For the defenders, it felt like an eternity. Four platoons, eighty total recruits, were guarding a tablet that contained the intel. This was supposed to be a war game that was an easy mode win for the defenders. When the dust settled only seventeen recruits did not suffer any simulated wounds, while eighteen more suffered gunshot wounds that ranged between minor to severe. Fifty-five suffered simulated deaths. John wouldn’t know it at the time, but every person he struck with rounds resulted in recruits being killed in action. John by himself accounted for half the simulated deaths.
The officers watching the various data feeds were stunned. No one could’ve predicted the success of John’s platoon. None of the officers knew how the lone wolf initially got into the base unnoticed and rampaged the way they did. While they were impressed, they wanted answers.
Five minutes later everyone was at the exfil points. A voice came across their coms.
“Well now, Team Eight gave us a hell of a surprise tonight. That was impressive recruits,” Captain Neil Marcus was smiling.
In all his time running these operations, he hadn’t seen anything quite like tonight’s showing. In previous games, the platoon that drew the short straw had been eliminated to the man. This time though, only one recruit was simulated to be killed in action, with five others receiving minor injuries.
“Recruit Vernon’s tactical acumen was once again superb,” Commander Cert’en mentioned.
“Most of this plan was on Lief, though credit is certainly due to his superb handling of his fire team. Blatzke will also be commended for her command today as well. Even though their squad suffered the majority of the casualties.”
“As you say, Captain,” it was no surprise that the Commander came from an affluent family.
When he looked at Recruit Vernon, he grew full of pride knowing the future was safe from the likes of the low-born like John. He despised the young recruit. If it was within his power, he’d drive him out of the Navy, but alas that was beyond his station at the time. Now even more so than before. He smiled at Lief’s actions, impressive as they put a large target on him. Maybe the commander didn’t need to worry about him taking action, someone else would rectify that issue for him and for the good of the Navy.
05:45. Boot Camp Base
Their platoon made it back to base first and they won the wargame. That meant they got to eat and clean up first. Everyone was bloody exhausted and running on fumes. They were coming down from the adrenaline rush, had been up for over a day now, and were utterly famished.
“Fuck me that mission was stupid as hell,” Jessica blurted out as she sat down in the cafeteria.
“Patrice managed squad two well. They only had one injury. We lost Bloom and four of us got injuries,” Andern mentioned.
“He’s not too bad under pressure. I’ll give him that. Still a prick though,” John sat down, “I’m going to devour this food and get into the fucking shower. Wearing one of these for this long is making me rank as fuck.”
“Thanks for sitting next to me ass,” Jessica gagged when she got a whiff of John.
Under normal circumstances, Jessica would have lost her appetite but now wasn’t the time for that, she was famished. The group didn’t do much talking. Everyone was this weird mix of starving and tired. The focus was on eating now, sleeping, and cleaning would happen later. Five minutes after John sat down his plate was empty, and he was mercifully heading for the showers.
“Holy fuck he smelled awful,” Andern mentioned.
“Nah, hey aren’t you still supposed to be a corpse?” Thomas asked as Kevin sat down.
“Not anymore, I’m not. You hear John’s body count?” Kevin said happily while he was eating.
“Twenty-seven. He got twenty fucking seven confirmed kills. Not one person he shot at was wounded. Damn near everyone he shot at took a three-round burst to the chest. Fucking the craziest shit, I have ever seen. He damn near took out a whole squad with one damn magazine. I had time to watch shit after I took a round to the face.”
“Bullshit, no way he could’ve taken down that many,” Patrice was glaring at Kevin.
“Patrice, you think your king shit around here but next to Lief your nothing. Turns out he wasn’t just a desk jockey, only agents get kit like that,” Kevin smirked at Patrice, “That was the newest suit in our armory. Spec Ops are the only ones, at this point, to receive them so far.”
“It was pretty clear he wasn’t your regular recruit,” Jessica said.
She was there in Miami, and she saw him exit the intelligence building. He didn’t look like a stone-cold killer though which was a trait of most field agents. But the more she watched his HUD replay, the more doubts began to form. Maybe he was a field agent like the rumors says. She needed to ask sometime when they had more free time. Maybe he had something to do about Apex Garden.
07:30. Classroom 2-C
“Hell of a job platoon. I’ll try to be quick with this debrief. Ignoring the unexpected stealth suit, the tactics you improvised on the fly were amazing,” Lt. Vance was beaming with pride.
He was admittedly pissed that his squad drew the short straw on the last training mission. But now the recruits are getting a new medal. No squad prior to that had ever had any members survive the mission. One was able to transmit the data for a pyrrhic victory. Another got the data but couldn’t transmit it.
“Your ability and willingness to scrap the plan, improvise on the fly, recon and execute a new plan were excellent. Everyone should feel proud of their success. Kevin, it was too bad you took a random shot to the face, but this mission was still a great success despite you ‘dying,’” Vance air quoted the dying bit.
“Lastly, John and Patrice, your leadership in overall command of the platoon were instrumental in the success. Blatzke, you are also being recognized for the command of the other fire squad. But enough with the praise.”
Lief was exhausted. Boot camp wasn’t as easy as he had thought. He wanted a drink, a cigar, and a comfortable chair. Possibly an attractive woman too. Anything but more drill or running. Truth be told he’d be willing to get with anyone that would say yes to him. In all fairness that was damn near anyone in their recruiting class.
His options weren’t limitless but weren’t bad either. Jessica was attractive but seemingly not into guys. Betty reminded him of Jess, but more reckless. Alice was hot but also had been a frosty bitch the first two weeks of boot. She did warm up to him after Patrice hit on her and grabbed her ass. She punched him in the face, which earned her points in John’s book. John continued with his daydreaming and did not pay a bit of attention to the Lieutenant praising them.
“Recruit Lief, focus.”
“Sorry, ma’am.”
“As I was saying, a few minor things could be improved. You all will receive an after-action report, which will be required reading. Otherwise, great job. Graduation is at 12:00. Clean up your bunk space and drop off your gear at the entrance. Lunch is at 11:00. Enjoy your well-deserved free time. Class dismissed. Lief, please stay for a moment.”
The class piled out. Lief slowly got up out of his desk.
“Hell of a job recruit. I wasn’t aware that stealth suits were given out to ex-agents?”
“They aren’t normally. But I asked a favor for getting sent off to the Academy,” John smirked.
“That easy, eh? Well, the honest question for you, could you have done that without the suit?”
“Thirty percent chance of success, no more. I’m damn good at what I do, and they may only be recruits but I’m not sure I’m good enough to get by that many enemies,” John was confident his odds would be higher, but it’s hard to say, “There’s a certain quality given to quantity mam. If I dart out at the wrong time and it's game over. Mistime anything and I die. But you never know, we didn’t play the game that way, so we’ll never know.”
“Still, excellent job. You deserve this break. Good luck at the academy. You won’t need it but enjoy the time there.”
“Thank you, ma’am,” Leif stood at attention and saluted, then walked out the door.
08:15. Platoon Eight Dorm
Lief was already packed up. His stealth suit was already sent to the armory at the academy. He was just cleaning up the space around his bunk. His muscles ached.
“Go to boot they said. It’ll be easy I said. Wait I said that. What the fuck was I thinking,” John just shook his head.
“Dude, I lost like 15 fucking pounds here. But man, I got cut as hell though,” Kevin smiled behind them.
“Kevin, you couldn’t screw a willing hooker if you tried,” Jessica just rolled her eyes at him as everyone started laughing.
“Ah come on Jessica. He’d tap the hooker, but you’d kick his ass if he tried to hit on you,” Andern ribbed his friends.
“He’d have more to worry about Theresa than me,” Jessica responded dryly.
“John, you saying anything?” Kevin asked.
“Nope,” John pointed at the annoyed girlfriend over Kevin’s shoulder.
“What’s this about hookers?” Theresa was glaring daggers at Kevin.
“I said nothing about that, dumbass over there said that,” Kevin pointed at Andern.
Alice walked in on the conversation and punched Kevin in the arm, “Why did I have to drag your sorry ass to the exfil.”
“Well, I died,” Kevin just shrugged his shoulders.
John turned around and looked at his buddy, “Andern, the fuck dude, you weren’t on heavies, why didn’t you haul Kevin’s sorry ass? Alice, mad respect.”
She smiled at that.
“What?” Andern looked genuinely surprised to be called out.
“So, what’s everyone going to do with their free time? We have nearly three hours before chow,” Alice asked.
Sleep was the common answer. Jessica was already snoring on her bag as they spoke. Theresa fell asleep as soon as she sat down next to Kevin, who also looked like he was drifting off to sleep. Andern still had his bunk to pack up and clean.
“John, you?”
“Hell if I know. Gonna drop my shit off at the front then find something interesting to do,” John noticed Alice grin when he said that which meant she was looking for the same itch to scratch, that is unless he was misreading her signals.
“Well, I’ll tag along since everyone else in this sorry-ass platoon is either too stuck up for me or sleeping.”
Andern looked back at John, grinned, and gave him the thumbs up before throwing his personal effects into his bag. He’d be laying back and be asleep in no time flat. John pulled up a schematic of the base on his tablet so he could find some privacy and let off some steam with Alice.
12:00. Boot Camp Graduation
“So, you hit it?” Andern whispered to John.
“Alice? Shut up,” Jessica chimed in.
“Quiet, and a gentleman doesn’t tell.”
Andern snorted. Lt. Vance glared at him from the side. Andern snapped back to attention.
“Nice job dumbass,” Jessica whispered.
Rear Admiral Nicholas Du’Mart was speaking in front of all ten platoons. Lief was paying exactly zero attention to it. He was even sorer than he was two hours ago, but it was worth it though. Alice and John ended up in a janitor’s closet to hook up. Not the classiest place for a sexual tryst, but it was worth it. Despite her aura of a frosty bitch, but it seemed like if she liked you, she became a genuinely good person to be around.
“And finally recruits, let me congratulate all of you on becoming Cadets of our Navy. God speed. Cadets dismissed!”
The cadets saluted the admiral, then began walking towards the base entrance in formation. The camp was going to be the temporary home for a fresh batch of enlisted men and women that were just arriving now. These newcomers to the base were there to make up the manpower the navy needed to run all the ships they had.
“What bus you on John?” Andern asked.
“Uh, eight. You?” John looked at his papers.
A squeal was heard behind them, “I’m on eight too, sitting next to you,” Alice was giddy like a schoolgirl.
“Twelve. I’m with the lesbian apparently.”
“Oh, you love me Andern. I just don’t love you back,” Jessica smiled
“Harsh. Eight is out front, gotta jet. Let’s do lunch or dinner this weekend.”
“Cya John,” The weird duo said.
“Son of a bitch, they did hook up,” Jessica was stunned.
“Lucky bastard,” Andern sounded jealous.
“You are just jealous that he got laid and you didn’t.”
They entered bus twelve and took their seats.
“Well, yeah. My girlfriend dumped me when I left for Miami last month.”
“Ah, you got it rough then.” She punched his arm.
“Not like any opportunity even showed up.”
Even had one appeared, Andern was too damned tired to act. During boot they were generally doing one of three things: sleeping, eating, or working. Finding any time to do anything was a near miracle.
“You are not nearly as smooth as John you know.”
Andern’s head fell over and was resting on her shoulder, “Ugh, fuck it. Hope he doesn’t drool on me.” Jessica was sleeping within five minutes of their buss leaving the camp.
Most recruits were asleep on bus eight except John. He was reading some news on his tablet. Alice was sound asleep and squeezing the hell out of his left arm. The fatigues they wore during boot camp left much to the imagination. To his great surprise, Alice was physically the ideal type that he was attracted to. John bet that if she wanted to, she’d look stunning in the right clothing. Alice was tall, curvy, and busty, an explosive combination.
Alice’s personality was more than a little frosty, but he was beginning to see a different side to her. Was this going to be a short-term tryst or something more? John didn’t know at the moment. All he knew the fall semester could be a lot of fun. In under two hours, they’d arrive at the academy and get their room assignments. Then the next journey would begin. He smiled as he closed his eyes and fell asleep.