Killed in Action - A Spy School Story

Chapter 16: Week 6

September 12th, 2018

1915Z

[Author's Note: You know how this story is rated "mature?" Well, that means it's going to be inappropriate—not just due to the violence and bad language, but the more suggestive content. And this chapter will have some of that. If you're on the younger side... you've been warned.]

Zoe POV (Fort Jackson)

"Get your ass up there, Short-Stack!" Drill Sergeant Sanchez shouted, invoking her nickname for me as she loudly "encouraged" me to get over the wall. "Amazon, high knees 'til she makes it!"

"Yes... Drill... Sergeant!" I panted as I struggled to overcome the obstacle.

"C'mon, Zibbell! We gotta move!" Adams, my battle buddy, called as she did the high knees exercise on the other side of the wall, likely wondering what the fuck was wrong with me. It was no wonder, though: she was 5'10" and a former collegiate athlete (hence her nickname "Amazon") while I was 5' and not nearly as athletic.

"Okay, okay! Geez!"

My platoon, along with one other, was maneuvering through an obstacle course (O-course)—not quite in full battle rattle, but it felt pretty close: cammies, helmet, Camelbak, Improved Outer Tactical Vest (IOTV; with plates fitted), and load-bearing vest. Oh, and who could forget the M4A1 fitted with a blank adapter slung over my back? All in all, the crapload of gear combined with my small size made it really hard to haul my ass over the wall. To my left, other trainees were getting over much faster, with some dudes and even the bigger and/or more fit chicks leaping over the wall.

Yeah, like that's not demoralizing at all.

But soon enough, I'd made it over, allowing Adams and I to continue the O-course. We came across a sandpit that we needed to crawl across, along with logs to step over, sewer pipes to squeeze through, and yet another sandpit—this time with wires strung low that we couldn't touch while crawling. And in between, all we could do was keep running.

I had an advantage over Adams with the sandpits and sewer pipes thanks to my small size, but the load I was carrying only amplified the problem at hand, with DS Sanchez continually calling for me to move faster.

"It's okay to be small, not slow or weak!" the older woman called. "Short-Stack, I'm lookin' at you! I want a faster run than last time! Learn something from your battle buddy, why don'tcha!"

"Yes, Drill Sergeant!" I spluttered out, spitting out the sand in my mouth as I dodged another wire. Upon arriving at the other end, Adams quickly yanked me to my feet and got us going again. But only 75 yards later, we arrived at yet another fucking wall, this one about the same height as me. "Are you kidding me?!"

"C'mon, c'mon, c'mon!" Adams exclaimed, getting the top on her first try before rolling onto the other side. "We can do this, Zibbell! C'mon!"

"Hang on, Adams, hang on!" I groaned as I tried and failed to get myself over the wall, while Adams had to wait for me to overcome the obstacle.

"You got this, Zibbell! Use your arms and legs! Push and pull! It's nothing but military-grade rock climbing!"

Well, I'm glad she has a good attitude, if nothing else... I wonder if all Arizonan rock climbers are like her?

I followed her advice, managing to get my chest up to the top before slipping and falling flat on my back, knocking the wind out of me. I could hear DS Sanchez shouting for me to get my ass up, but my arms, legs, back, and hips were screaming at me to not move a muscle. Adams continued to shout words of encouragement, but those weren't helping either. After about fifteen seconds of me laying there, DS Sanchez came up.