“Sarah’s great. Worn out, but great,” Jarrett replied. “Now, you gonna help me?”
Baldwin nodded. “Yeah, that little prick needs to be knocked off his high horse. What do you have in mind?”
Jarrett knew Baldwin was referring to Sergeant Emmerson when he spoke about the little prick. Emmerson was a small man with a big mouth. He didn’t stand over five foot five and was slight of build. He also had a small head which was perfect for what Jarrett had planned.
“Listen, after lights-out...,” Jarrett began. He leaned close and whispered into Baldwin’s ear. Baldwin burst out laughing and Jarrett grinned widely. “Is it a deal?”
Baldwin thrust out his hand and Jarrett shook it. “Oh, hell yeah!”
Jarrett was still grinning when Thayne walked up. He smiled at both of them, probably because he realized they were planning something.
“Okay, what’s going on?”
Jarrett hooked his arm around Thayne’s shoulders. “Just planning a little payback. Nothing much.” He nodded once again at Baldwin.
“See you tonight,” Baldwin said.
He walked away and Jarrett turned Thayne toward the picnic tables that served as dinner tables. Their companions from Jackson’s ‘platoon’ were already sitting… drooping was a more apt description since some had their heads in their hands on the table. Jarrett glanced at the wall clock. It read seven thirty and he knew as soon as they ate, they’d be out cold in their bunks. The entire barracks would be and that’s what Jarrett and Craig would be counting on.
“What do you have planned? I know you and Baldwin have something cooking.” Thayne eyeballed him and Jarrett winked back.
“Just wait and see, okay?” He blinked at Thayne innocently and Thayne chuckled.
“Fine. Just make it something really good.”
“Okay.” They sat at the table where the others drooped. Jarrett glanced up to find Sergeant Jackson standing over them. He held a large basket and he was smirking at them from beneath the wide brim of his cover.
“Chow time,” he said, reaching into the basket and pulling out MREs, handing one to each of them along with a bottle of apple juice and a granola bar.
“Jeez. I know where to come when I need to lose that extra five pounds of stubborn holiday weight,” Sarah said.
“This is for you, Connor.” Jackson reached back into the basket and handed her a tube of horse liniment. “It stinks like Satan’s butthole but since you had to pull a man through the mud around all day, you’ll thank me.”
“I’ve already thanked you like a hundred times,” Sarah said, blinking innocently up at him from where she sat. “Just ask my friends how many times I chanted your name today.”
Jackson’s smug smile dropped and he moved away from her, handing out MREs to the rest of their table. Sarah glanced at Thayne as she opened the MRE’s foil pouch. The outside read beef stroganoff.
“If I wasn’t starving to death, I could never stomach one of these,” Sarah said to Thayne who sat watching her.
Thayne dipped his spoon into his open pouch and took a bite. Jarrett smiled when he saw him shudder.
“They ain’t so bad,” Jarrett said. “Beats raw goat any day.” He smiled at Thayne and Sarah when they both tossed him dirty looks. Jarrett took a bite of his granola bar. “Makes ya appreciate good food.”
“You actually ate raw goat?” Sarah asked.
Jarrett nodded as he chewed. “In Afghanistan. Actually, it was pretty frozen at the time and we had to swallow the bites whole so I didn’t know it was raw until the aftertaste hit.”
Craig Baldwin chuckled as he listened to the conversation going on down the table. Sarah turned to look at him and rolled her eyes.
“You too? Don’t tell me you ate raw goat in Afghanistan while you were in the Marine Corps,” Sarah said with disgust.
“No, ma’am. I served my tours in Livorno, Italy at American Beach. Pretty easy work to be honest,” Baldwin said. “It’s one of the most popular liberty spots for American military stationed overseas. The worst food we ate was an occasional undercooked gnocchi and the bar brawls kept it entertaining most of the time.”
“Sounds like life was a bitch,” Thayne said.
“Yeah, not as much of a bitch as Sergeant Emmerson,” Galvez said He sat across from Baldwin. “I almost decked that Pendejo today.”
“He’ll get his, Galvez,” Baldwin said. “Just be patient. Evans and I have it covered.”
“Do tell!” Sarah said, leaning forward.
Jarrett grinned and shook his head, winking at Baldwin and then Thayne. His partner didn’t look too happy that he wasn’t in on their plans. “It’s best you wait for the surprise like everyone else, Connor.” Thayne narrowed his eyes and Jarrett just smiled back. “It’ll be worth it. I promise.”
****
The next morning, Sergeant Jackson stepped out onto the parade grounds before sunrise. He had his hands on the brim of his cover in the front and back and he was twisting it onto his head. His platoon of six was lined up waiting for him. The morning was once again freezing and they stood stomping their feet in their thin long-sleeved T-shirts and camouflage fatigues. Jarrett leaned over to Thayne and elbowed him, inclining his head toward Jackson as he was walking over. Thayne looked at Jarrett and then back at Jackson.
“What?” he asked.
“Watch,” Jarrett replied. He glanced at Sarah who watched them closely and then Jarrett nodded his head at Jackson. She turned to look.
Jackson was walking toward them, screwing with his cover. He took it off his head and looked inside, then over the brim, and then put it back on his head, grasping it once again at the front of the brim and at the back. He screwed it back and forth on his head from side to side. Jarrett couldn’t help but snort. Thayne leaned over to him and whispered.
“What have you done?”
Jarrett chuckled as he glanced at Sergeant Emmerson standing in front of the six agents on his team. He also had his cover in his hands and he was looking inside. Jarrett leaned over to Thayne, speaking quietly.
“Look at Emmerson.” As he said it, Emmerson replaced his cover and it dropped over his forehead and eyebrows. Jarrett snorted and he looked at Baldwin who was laughing.
Sarah leaned over. “Is his head shrinking?”
Thayne grinned and looked surreptitiously at Jarrett. “You two switched their covers last night.”
Jarrett smirked as Sarah tried not to giggle while they watched Jackson walk up. He’d finally gotten the cover onto his head—well, almost onto his head. It rode up on his forehead about a quarter inch from where it should sit, effectually making his head resemble an overinflated balloon.
“Fall in!” Jackson shouted. They all did their best to line up and stand at attention. “You maggots will be doing urban assault training in our shoot house today. If you fail this, you’ll have to do it all over again,” Jackson said. “Let’s begin with calisthenics. Count off!”
Jarrett and the others began their jumping jacks while Jackson stood in front of each of them in turn, screaming into their faces. When they finished their jumping jacks, he had them drop to the parade ground and do a hundred pushups each. Jarrett’s arms were screaming by the time they finished and he knew he’d be hitting Sarah up for the liniment Jackson had given her the night before. After drinking a few sips of water, they set off on their five mile run, all of this before the sun even rose.
Their urban assault training was set up similar to Hogan’s Alley where the FBI trained. A neighborhood of fake houses was arranged on a cul-de-sac for them to infiltrate with their teams. They carried weapons that were loaded with paintball rounds and were expected to wipe out the other team. The last man standing would win the contest for the whole team. Jarrett was tapped to lead the red team of Thayne, Sarah, and three other a
gents. They entered one of the houses, expecting to face the team of Craig Baldwin, Tim Darcy, Jose Galvez, and three others on the blue team.
They cleared one house after another until finally reaching the last structure on the block. The house they entered was completely dark with shutters on the windows. They slowly made their way through the ground floor, clearing the rooms, shouting to each other each time they cleared a space. Once they finished the ground floor, the red team climbed the stairs with their team leader, Jarrett, in the lead. He crept up stair by stair, wearing night vision goggles he’d donned for the mission. He watched for the enemy as the rest of his team climbed up the stairs, flooding onto the landing at the top. With hand signals, Jarrett directed each of them to one of the bedrooms. There wasn’t much up there which meant that the blue team must be hiding in there. They had nowhere else to go. Jarrett looked left and right seeing that his agents were in position and ready to breach the bedroom doors. He began to count off on his fingers when suddenly the blue team flipped on the lights and rushed out of the bedrooms.
The lights blinded Jarrett and the others because of the night vision goggles and Jarrett, with only his four remaining senses, began to fight with the man who leapt on him before he could get the goggles off. Seconds later, it had turned into a melee on the top floor of the house. The pops of the paint ball guns echoed in the space and as Jarrett’s eyes adjusted to the light again, he realized he’d been hit not once, but several times.
A quick assessment, along with the shouts of Thayne and Craig Baldwin, told Jarrett that the game was over. The red team had been defeated and were covered with blue paint. His warriors, Sarah, Thayne, and the other three men on his team lay fake-dying from fake-fatal wounds which were indicated by small bursts of blue paint all over their bodies. Dammit! To add insult to injury, they had to repeat the exercise once again. When all was said and done, Sergeants Jackson and Emmerson made the red team run another five miles before they were allowed to shower, ending the second day.
Jarrett, Sarah, Thayne, and the others were almost too tired and defeated to eat that night. They’d come into the mess hall and flopped into their chairs, exhausted and bruised from the paintballs. Instead of eating the vile MREs, they sat in the mess hall watching the two sergeants, sitting with their heads together, talking to each other. It seemed that Jackson and Emmerson still hadn’t quite caught on to what had been done to their covers because as the day wore into afternoon and then into evening, Jarrett had watched them with a practiced eye. Every twenty minutes or so, Jackson had to screw his cover back down over his forehead only to have his dome pop free of it over and over. Emmerson had to keep pushing the brim back up on his forehead. It would drop down over his eyebrows followed by a curse at least every ten minutes. Thayne leaned close to Jarrett.
“I bet Jackson thinks his head is getting fatter.” He smirked at Jarrett and Sarah.
“Yeah, he’s gonna think it’s shrinking tomorrow when we switch them back,” Jarrett whispered conspiratorially.
“How did you get a hold of their covers?” Thayne asked, watching Jackson covertly.
“Jackson keeps his in the staff office on a hook. Craig had the harder job. He had to sneak into Emmerson’s room where he keeps his. Apparently the man sleeps like the dead.”
“I’ll tell you who’s gonna sleep like the dead tonight,” Sarah said. “Me. I was a fucking loon to think I could get through this without permanent injury.”
“What injury?” Jarrett asked, looking her over critically. They were all exhausted but she hadn’t been actually hurt. Had she?
“Isn’t abject rage at assholery a permanent injury?” she asked.
Jarrett simply snorted. Jackson looked over his shoulder at him and then rose from the table, frowning fiercely. He began to walk over while Sergeant Emmerson stood and left the room. Jarrett exchanged a glance with Thayne. This couldn’t be good. Jackson walked up to the table and stood with his hands on his hips staring down at Jarrett and Craig who sat side by side.
“Something funny, Evans?” His lips pulled back in his pale face, making the man appear to have an unpleasant sneer.
Jarrett smiled innocently. “No, sergeant. Just talkin’ with my friends.”
“You lost pretty bad out there today. It’s really a miracle you survived combat… oh, that’s right. You didn’t see combat. You were shipped off to begin your service, hiding behind a rifle.”
“What’s your problem, sergeant?” Thayne asked. “Are you intimidated by Evans’s skill or just jealous?”
Jarrett glanced at his lover and smiled. He didn’t think Thayne knew that much about his skills but it felt wonderful to have him stand up for him.
“Jealous? No. I’d never be jealous of a man who left brave men to fight while he traveled the world.”
Jarrett stood so fast, the folding chair behind him toppled. He was in Jackson’s face in seconds. “It’s too bad I have to pass this stupid exercise this weekend. If I didn’t, I’d show you how I actually felt.” He felt a hand on his shoulder and looked over into Thayne’s gorgeous face. He’d risen, to stand up beside him and Jarrett hadn’t even known it. He glanced around to find all eleven of his co-workers had also stood up as a show of loyalty. He gulped, feeling the weight of that loyalty in his heart. Jackson glanced around and then frowned, waving his hand.
“Go back to your meals. I’ll see you losers on the parade grounds tomorrow.” He spun on his heel and stomped out of the room. Jarrett turned to find Thayne’s hand still holding on to his forearm. He felt its warmth right through the long-sleeved T-shirt he wore. He suddenly felt such a wave of love for the man, it was everything he could do not to pull him into his arms and kiss him silly.
“Thanks, guys,” he said, looking around the room. They all came over and slapped him on the back, telling him that Jackson was an asshole and not to bother with him. When they left, Jarrett walked over to Baldwin. “Did you find some?”
Craig smirked and reached into his pocket pulling out three thin packets. He showed them to Jarrett and grinned. “Easy peasy. Montgomery’s wife always sends it with him when he goes out of town… in case of an emergency.”
Jarrett laughed. “It’s perfect.” He held out a hand for the stash but Baldwin shook his head.
“No, man. If you get caught, Jackson will fail you and you’ll have to come back and repeat this bullshit. Let me do it. The worst I’ll get is a reprimand.”
Jarrett nodded and he slapped Baldwin on the back. “Thanks, man. Be careful.” He watched Craig tuck the packets back in his jeans as Thayne walked up.
“Everything okay?”
Jarrett smiled at him and he hooked an arm around Thayne’s neck, turning him to walk back to their barracks. “I’m beat. Let’s get some sleep. Hell weekend is over tomorrow and we get to go home.”
Thayne frowned, thinning his lips. “You have something else planned… with Baldwin?”
Jarrett grinned and he leaned close so he could whisper in Thayne’s ear. “I have a lot planned, darlin’, but the fun stuff… I’ll save just for you.” He winked at Thayne as his partner smiled at him.
****
Reveille came blasting out of speakers in their barracks the next morning before dawn and the exhausted agents rolled out of their bunks. They’d only gotten four hours sleep after returning to their dorm the night before. Thayne’s body ached like he’d been run over by a truck. Every single muscle in his body screamed and as he thought about it, he realized Sarah had been right. Even his hair hurt. It was the last morning of this and all that was left was to get dressed and line up on the parade grounds where SAC Stanger would meet them to go over their pass/fail scores, then dismiss them. As far as Thayne was concerned, if the agents had survived the last seventy-two hours at Camp Confidence, they deserved to pass and he would tell Stanger exactly what he felt about it if he dared take
bad advice from either of the two drill sergeants. The night before, Baldwin, Darcy, and Galvez had told them just what a standing prick Sergeant Emmerson had been to them. Thayne hoped whatever Jarrett and Craig had been planning was good. It was their last chance for a little payback.
They dressed in their street clothes, happy to stuff their fatigues away in duffel bags, and they piled out of the barracks to the tarmac, lining up as they had before. Sergeant Jackson, Sergeant Emmerson, and SAC Stanger walked toward them in the dawning light. All three of them had their heads down as if they were in deep conversation. As they got close, Stanger lifted his face and glared at them. Judging by the expression on Stanger’s face, he wasn’t happy. The sun, just coming over the rise behind Thayne and the others, felt warm on Thayne’s back as he stood with Jarrett on one side of him and Sarah on the other. Stanger, Jackson, and Emmerson stopped in front of them. That’s when the two sergeants looked up.
For a few seconds, Thayne wasn’t certain what he was looking at and then it dawned on him. Jackson and Emmerson’s faces were both blotchy and bright yellow. For a few seconds, you could have heard a pin drop and then from somewhere along the line there was a snort. Thayne bit his lower lip and glanced at Jarrett. His lover’s lips curled slowly upward at the corners but he kept his gaze fixed on the ground, refusing to look up or at him.
“Christ, Jarrett,” Thayne whispered, barely able to keep the mirth out of his voice. “They look like lemons.”
Jarrett’s shoulders shook but he continued to stare at the ground as if looking up would cause him to burst out into the laughter that Thayne was barely keeping contained.
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