Ramblers In the Wilderness

Sparring

Cade

I joined the team for breakfast. For being a small team on a small base, the cook seemed to have ample supply of food. The meals had been some of the best I could remember since I joined the service...save the US Air Force. Those guys were treated like royals, especially at mealtime.

After breakfast, an all-team meeting was scheduled in the conference building.

Price stood at the front, a well-used whiteboard behind him. It hinted at past ops and tactics. Looked like it would take a ton of elbow grease to really bring back to a pure white.

"I'm sure you all have meet Lieutenant Zahara aka Cade and made her feel welcome." He looked right at Ghost as he said this, "She's here for the next year per her contract. After that it will be her choice to stay or leave. Hopefully we can all function fluidly as a team and be better than we currently are with the additional assistance."

Price continued, "Alejandro and Gaz. You two are up with your mission. You had your briefing yesterday and the chopper lands at 0900 to take you both. The rest of you are free for the next several days unless Laswell has any leads. Until then, thank you for always being willing and ready. Enjoy a few days off, and Cade, take this time to really settle in."

The meeting was quickly over, and I headed back to my room to grab my rifle and enjoy the range.

It was a good 1900-yard range with all manner of targets scattered about. I spent several hours reading wind changes, dialing my scope, making positional adjustments. Enjoying the satisfaction of each PING as my bullet connected with steel.

I proned out, setting my sights on a small target about 1100 yard off. My finger gently squeezed the trigger and...
"Eh lassie, been out here a fair bit!" The enthusiastic voice boomed behind me. My insides jumped but my squeeze and sight remained true as the trigger wall broke, and the bullet zipped from the barrel.
I turned and smiled to Soap just as the PING from down range rang out.

"Bloody good shot you are." Soap seemed impressed, "Been none stop for several hours now and not sure I've heard even one shot that didn't have the sound of a poor helpless target cryin' out after." I chuckled, "Bet it's near lunch eh?"

"Yep. Bout' half hour till. Just didn't want ya forgetting'. All due respect, don't look like ya can afford to miss any meals. Heavy gust 'll send ya away like a tumble weed."

"You ever even seen a tumbleweed highlander?" I tease.

"Ay! I'll have ya know I've seen a couple in my day. Traveling through parts of your desolate country. I'll stick to me green hills and far distant castles, that ya much."

McTavish and I teased and chatted back to the barracks. Gobbling down some lunch I asked if anything was really planned for the day.

"Not much. Mainly on these low-key days we catch up on sleep and train. Sometimes we will head into town. As a group or solo. Just to break the monotony."
Soap continued, "Price will have specialized training certain days for what 'er thing he wants to see us proficient on."

The second he took his last bite; Soap was making a beeline for seconds. I glanced around the room. Price and Ghost were missing from the meal. I hadn't seen either one since early in the morning at the meeting.

"Don't worry. He ain't lurking and scowling around." Soap plopped back down and gave a knowling grin, "Should take this time to catch up on yer sleep little lass. Heard you fighting some demons last night."

"That guy puts me on edge. And not in a fun way." Soap chuckles at my comment, "Anyways, was it you who knocked on my door? Sorry I woke you up."

"Na," Soap said through munching his food, "Got us some light sleepers and heavy sleepers in the group. Heard someone give yer door a good rasp, but ain't me. I'm too damn lazy to even piss in the middle of the night." I chuckled, not wanting to know how he relieved himself during the witching hours. "Plus," Soap continues, "Its normal for them bad dreams to travel round. We all've woken up like that a time or two. Part of the job I guess. Jus' know, ya can't hold onto all that stress and hope it goes away. Not to sound like yer old man or nothin', but ya need to talk about experience and especially the traumatic ones. Holding it all in, it'll kill ya overtime. My ears are always open, and mouth be shut about anything ya tell me. But least know someone is happy to sit down and listen."