Freedom Day

Chapter 4 - "A True Patriot"

JFK Special Warfare Center, Fort Bragg, North Carolina
0900 hours (EST)

Day Three

...

Third day on the job. Five days, almost a week, after the attack on Bartlett University.

"All hostiles are eliminated. Mission successful.", the computer announced.

Ethan's visor immediately went to black, marking the end of the training. A deep sigh escaped his lips, as he removed his hands from the prop shotgun and let it dangle across his chest. He had been running, dodging, and shooting non-stop for almost an hour now. His body ached, reminding him that it had been a while since he exerted himself like this. To have the exercise finally over with was an infinite relief, if only to get away from the weird 'video game' he was playing.

"Done and dusted for today, team. Switch everythin' off.", Seamus Cowden told everyone. The burly, baldheaded Scotsman was the designated leader for the exercise.

"Phew! 'Bout time.", Miles Campbell blurted out. "Take five, fellas."

Following the man's orders, Ethan took off his headgear, fumbling with the straps as he went along, and deactivated the strobes and sensors on his person. Easier said than done without removing the harnesses however, sweat and fatigue notwithstanding. The entire costume was a tangle of cables and slings, easily less comfy than any other training gear he'd worn in the past. He struggled to get the electronic bits off his suit, whereas his teammates faced no trouble.

After that, he raised the visor from his eyes and let himself back to the real world. The dull, grey walls of the large, VR chamber contrasted the decors of the CGI suburban house he was immersed into a while ago. All around, there were high-fives and pats to the back from his comrades for a job well-done. A release from the surge of adrenaline, as if they just won a game. Considering the fancy graphics, the score system, and the other spectacles, 'game' was an apt description for the computer-assisted exercise. Not exactly a perfect representation of the real deal, but nonetheless a taste of what Team Rainbow did for a living.

The loudspeakers came to life.

"That's a wrap, Seamus.", Meghan Castellano's voice echoed into the room. "You guys good down there?"

"Roger.", he tersely replied. "We're just sortin' our kit. The debrief's up and ready yet?"

"Check that. Swing by the control station first before you hit the lockers. We're gonna have one hell of a peer review."

With a whistle and a wave from the tall man's hand, the team went out of the room in an orderly fashion. Meanwhile, the recruit smiled in approval as his hands rested on top of his knees. Finally, he could take a break.

Four hours in from the moment he got out of bed, and Day Three was off to a running start. The team was winded, but spirits were high. On the other hand, Ethan felt out of his element, like he was as an FNG fresh from Delta's Q-Course all over again. As much as he didn't want to admit it, he was out of practice; firing a gun, a prop gun at that, after many months felt like riding a bike. He spent far too much time recuperating in the hospital to be doing serious, physical stuff so soon. But he shouldn't show a sign of weakness. He insisted on joining the taskforce despite his condition; he needed to suck it up. The least he could do was to perform at his best, even if his body still bore the wounds from his last mission. The thought caused him to clutch his right hand, still quite stiff from the anesthetics.

"Hey there, Ace.", a woman called to him. "You alright?"

Ethan looked to his left, and saw a short, freckled brunette clad in black tactical gear, wearing a sunny disposition. Emmanuelle Pichon. Beside her was Miles Campbell, wearing a bulkier outfit and a matching pair of goggles on top of his shaved head. 'Twitch' and 'Castle', as per their nicknames.