Ramblers In the Wilderness

Tour

Cade

After dinner Soap held his promise. He chatted the whole way around the tour. I was never much of a talker, so having someone steamroll a conversation was totally fine.
I was happy to stroll along and listen. Plus his accent made the conversation more interesting. Or maybe just entertaining?

This was TaskForce 141's primary base, but it was also a training site for other units who would frequently be in and out. The 141 had many safe houses around the globe and sometimes would move to other bases for several months depending on the mission.
But this was the primary residency of the team. 

The cook and nurse on base did more than their job titles implied.

The cook was base security, having access to cameras all over the base and was lookout for anything nefarious. He also was in charge of munitions and ensuring weapons were cycling properly. Apparently he had was ex special forces out of Canada, but some traumatic incidents and injuries he took a step back and became the cook for the group.

The nurse, trained by Laswell, doubled as a hacker and ran all intel gathered through extensive systems where we could go in and look up whatever or who ever. The nurse also provided eyes to camera systems when the team was on a mission.
She was up to date in her medical training and could perform minor surgeries.

Apparently an off base retired Army surgeon was always on call incase something more extravagant needed to be done.

The gym and training room was well equipped in a small building across from the main entrance of the barracks.

A makeshift track had been groomed around the base fence line. It looked like someone had tried to throw some gravel down around most of it to help steady the ground, but it had ben well worn away and some parts were just a trail of dirt through the grass.
Though Soap wasn't sure of the distance, he estimated it was two thirds of a mile around.

An indoor pistol range was located towards the backside of the base with the rifle range being just outside the gate.
It was a hundred yards or so walk to the firing line of the range with eight shooting platforms and a spotting tower in the middle.

An identical barracks was across from ours making the gym the central building.
Infirmary was close to the entrance and there was even a small conference building which looked like a rag tag library and makeshift office area.
A small building off the side of that was what Soap really got excited over.

"This use to be our conference room, but we swapped it to the other, and we voted to make this an entertainment area." His accent became thicker with excitement, "Got a full bar in that corner, foosball and all the games, and couches with a big ol' projector for movie night. Even got the microwave and mini fridge for cold beers and popcorn!"

"Real frat vibes here eh?" I joked.

Soap just laughed and nodded. We joked as we made our way out and back to the barracks.
Deciding I wanted to work out and crash early I bid goodnight to Soap.

"Hey Lt." he paused before leaving, "We are a tight crew and run a tight ship."
Soap's voice was low and serious but his eyes were still kind.
"Have been through a lot and had our ups and downs. But close as family we are. Fight like family some times, but always get over it. Don't let anyone get to ya. Some...and ya probably already know who, they take a while to come 'round. Just stick to ya guns and it'll be fine."

We exchanged nods and Soap went his own way.

Throwing on workout gear I headed to the gym thinking about what Soap had said.
I understood his words more than her could probably realize. The tight knit crew and family I had made in my last unit was my life for years.
Loosing all of them was the toughest pain I had to recover from. Physical pain is one thing. But it can be managed or taken away with medicine and physical therapy.
Recovering from emotional lose is a whole different beast. One which eats you alive from the inside out for years. Preys on your mental sanity and keeps you up at night. Leaving holes in your heart and pits in your stomach for years to come.

Emotional pain has a way of changing you and turning you into someone you might not like down the road. I had sought out therapy for years after my childhood and again after the loss of my unit. For the most part I was able to find peace and recover from the past.
However the demons still had ways of finding me at times. Pulling me back to memories and times.
As much as I had gone through, I had learned to embrace it. All the good and bad turning me into the person I was today. It wasn't always easy to love myself. But I found ways to appreciate my body and mind. Sure, military life isn't really a life of freedom or peace. But it was what I knew and I was at peace with that.

'Good God he is just like a shadow' I think as I enter the gym.

Ghost was in the middle of bench pressing possibly double his body weight. My eyes rolled involuntarily as I proceeded to dumbbell rack. For whatever reason seeing a dude bench press heavy with no spotter always made me instantly think, 'Douche'. Maybe I was just jealous I couldn't rack that much weight. But I also wasn't dumb enough to do that alone.

Gathering my equipment, I am very quickly lost in my music and sweat. Forgetting the world around me and enjoying the beat of the music keeping me on pace with the workout.

Between sets I glanced around the room, seeing which piece of equipment would be my next go to. Though the track is outside I see a couple treadmills and elliptical. Rowing machines, various weight machines, a couple cable machines and a big old dumbbell rack.
For being a small building, it was packed with a lot of the good stuff. But it still felt open and roomy. Maybe that was an illusion of the mirrors which occupied almost every bit of wall space not taken by a window.

Through one mirror I caught sight of Ghosts large frame sitting upright on the bench. Feeling as if he was already looking I looked directly at him in the mirror. Sure enough, even with the mask covering his face, I could see his eyes narrowed and glaring over at me.

I took a second to look over, meeting his glare with a look of indifference. He was in workout shorts and a tight black tank top. His shoulders were massive and wide, arms the size of my waist. Never skipped leg day either. He had a beautiful build and body from what I could see. If only his personality matched.

If he even dared come close, I would swing a kettlebell into his face without thinking. My throat still felt a tad sore from where he had squeezed it hours before. The rumors of his psychotic demeanor were not far off. It would be interesting to see how he was with captured enemies on missions. 

Without being able to control it, I gave a small sneer before turning back to my set. Guys having a staring problem in the gym weren't what bothered me. It was the pompous attitude this man had shown from the beginning. The inability to even attempt some semblance of welcome.

Moments later I heard the building door slam behind me. Ghost had left.

'Whatever bud.'