Recoil: Chapter 6, Limitless
"Move! Move! Move!" The drill instructor yelled at me as well as the other operatives in training. Well, marine training, I'm guessing they had already gone through whatever "mind-breaking" training I hear green barrae initiatives go through. I had a bunch of thoughts like this while I was crawling in the mud, through rain, under barbed wire. I approached the section of the course full of weighted sand bags, to simulate a heavy crowd. I roared and charged hard into them, hooking and clawing my way through this synthetic blood bath. "Over the wall! Go!" I took a step back, then charged once again toward the large wooden wall, then blasted my hind legs down, sending me hurtling over the wall. I landed hard after the supposed twenty foot drop, bending my left leg behind me as I drove the right down, my left fist providing the final cushion against the wet soil. "Don't leave your squad members behind panther! Get back on that wall!" Scolded the sergeant. I growled to myself and pulled a 180 and kicking off the ground all at once, bracing myself against the wall at about the halfway point, then digging my claws into the moist wood to crawl back to the top. I saw two of my squad members preparing to volt to the notches mid-way up the wall. I hung as far down over the wall as I could, rain beating down over my looming head. "C'mon! Grab my arm!" I shouted down to the African American running to plant his foot in his partner's interwound palms to leap up. He made it a few inches too far from my paw. I thought quick, releasing my left paws grip on the top of the wall, then dug my claws into the wood, gouging large splintered trenches in it. "Got ya.." I grunted as I flexed my chest muscles to throw him up over. "thanks man" He said as he nodded. Together we heaved 2 of the remaining 3 men over the wall. The last man had no one to help him volt up, so I acted as needed. I dropped down and laced my fingers together and knelt with my back to the wall. He stepped back, and charged at me. His filthy boot landed in my hands, as I drew them upwards hard, sending him easily to the top. They dropped down on the other side, sprinting to the final section of the course. The ropes. Needing no one to help me over, I did as I did before; I charged at the wall and pounded my legs down. I had too much forward momentum when I reached the top of the wall, so I transferred the kinetic energy into my clenched fists and threw them forward, sending me into an aerial forward tuck. Not taking any more time, I landed on my toes and rolled once I hit the ground, then got right back up running. When I reached the rope loops that were sprawled over a pit, my squad was already halfway across, making fast progress. Still running I leaped with a grunt to a random loop somewhere in the middle, and used it to swing myself the rest of the way across. I gave a little chuckle to myself, this course was meant to train the most elite forces, but I used it as a playground.
The rain let up a bit, leaving only a light drizzle and an overcast sky as we made it to the checkpoint tent, which served as a meeting place for those challenging the course. I took a seat at an olive drab picnic table, facing a dark blue polymer first-aid kit that lay upright in the center. I couldn't help notice the Windsnarle biotech logo imprinted on one of the corners, which looked like two green crossing tendrils. Everyone else was breathing hard, as was I, as they sat down as well on the table. The Sargent stood firm and serious at the end of the table, looking us over, "Excellent work gentlemen, one of the fastest times I ever saw." He faced me, "Rashama, you might be able to treat combat situations like that like morning jog, but your team mates can't, give them all the support needed to fulfill your objective." I bent my head down, feeling a bit embarrassed. Luckily no one really paid mind to me. In the distance I heard diesel engines groan and rev, they sounded a bit too loud to be a transport truck. "After you've rested up, I will be explaining your finial exam. It involves using teamwork, and some improvisation." Then he walked to me and picked up the blue box and tossed it to me, I was startled a bit and fumbled with it before holding it firmly. "Hold onto that, would you? It's yours after all." Mine? I haven't a clue...
A few minutes of idle talk and sipping of water from canteens later, Sergeant Layton called us to the attentive position, "Exit the far side of this tent" He pointed to an open flap in the fabric. We all walked to the flap and ducked into the now semi-cloudy field, three Russian T-90 heavy tanks were parked apart from each other in the center of the field. I'll admit, I'm confused. "Partner up in teams of two, you'll be taking out these tanks." Jackel, one of the two African American members of the squad, the other was Bone, spoke up immediately. "Say what!? How we supposed to do that?" He sounded pissed, like he was being invited to a middle school spelling bee. "I don't know, figure it out." Layton replied bluntly. The rest of the squad was mumbling and complaining, primarily about how they can't do this without "A fuck ton of C4" I quote. This coincidentally was being brought out from a supply truck near the tent, along with RPG's, mines, and other WMD's. They noticed and gave some woots and hollers, I just was wondering who I was going to partner up with, I mean, there's only five guys including myself...
"Panther," That was my call sign. Fitting. "You'll be doing this solo, you have a test of your own." Oh, so now I not only have to take out a tank, but do it alone. We all gathered around the weapons table, looking over the arsenal. "Jackal, Bone, you'll be team one. Sweets and Holmes, team two. You may use whatever you want on this table, but remember, you want to do this fast and smooth. The timer ends when the tank is visibly inoperable. Team one, gather your toys and get ready, you have thirty seconds to go time." Jackal grabbed a backpack and stuffed it with plastic explosives; While Bone grabbed an AT4 anti-tank launcher. This was going to be one hell of a fireworks show. "Go!" Sergeant Layton yelled. Jackal sprinted to the front of the tank and began to attach and arm the C4 to the bottom of the front bumper. Bone just stood about 50 yards behind him. After he was done, he threw the backpack over to the sidelines and grabbed the detonator and rushed towards Bone. "Fire in the da' hole!!" He screamed as he passed, then a distant beep was heard as the switch was pulled, then hell broke loose under the tank. Flipping it backwards, teetering on the rear fender. Then the reason Bone grabbed the launcher came clear, he fired the rocket at the belly of the tank, into the transmission shaft, and blasting the internals to confetti. The burning wreckage crushed down, different pieces rained around it. "What about the drivers who brought the tanks? Aren't they in there?" I questioned to Layton as I leaned on the table. "Nope, they scattered back to base camp a while ago, don't worry your pretty little face." I rolled my eyes. I was still thinking how the hell I was supposed to do this, as well as what was in the blue chem box. Jackal and Bone pounded fists and gave the torched tank a middle finger as they walked boldly back to us. "How Bout' them apples?" Bone hollered over all our ringing ears. After the guys bragged and slugged each other in the shoulders, and while I stood by my lonesome, Layton called the other team up to prepare for their end of the test. "Now here's a twist gentlemen, your buddies used up all the C4 and AT4's, so you two have to find another method to destroy this tank" Then he picked up the last two launchers and put them in the back of the truck, clearly this was a test of improvisation. "But sir, that just leaves us with a few frags." Sweets complained. "So use em' well men." Then Layton picked up my box and put it on the table, the opening latches facing me. Approaching me, he said into my ear, "What's in that box will open doors for you Rashama, doors that only open with a little pain." I put my serious face on, I had a feeling things were going to be a tad rough soon.
Holmes and Sweets had used a little less creativity in their sabotage; they jumped on the top of the tank and chucked their grenades into the open hatch, and sprinted for life while the machine blew open like a pan of jiffy pop. And once again, we gathered around the now clear weapons table, only the box remaining. "Great work gentlemen, now.... I need to help restrain or friend panther here" My blood ran cold, my muscles tensed for a fight under my marpat camouflage suit. "Just lie on the table Rashama, and don't fight, I don't want this to hurt more then I should... And trust me; we're one your side still." I trusted the sergeant; he had stuck up for me when the other initiatives revolted at my arrival a few days ago. But this was really, really edgy. Slowly I sat on the edge of the table, and laid my spine down, I looked straight into the gray clouded sky. The look on the other men's faces was that of concern and confusion. I didn't blame them; I guess they honestly did not have this planned for me. Besides the sergeant that is. My arms and legs were each held firmly down on the table, only my head moved freely. Layton popped open the pressure sealed box with a small hiss, I couldn't see inside, but I did once he lifted it into my view. At least a foot long syringe, filled with an eerie blue liquid. My heart began beating faster; I was getting a bit scared. It didn't matter how tough my body and mind were, I hated needles. "Rashama, I need you to relax, slow your breathing, you don't want this going places it shouldn't" "How can I relax when you have me pinned to a table?! And why I am I being restrained?!" I panicked. "Because last time you were in the state your about to be in, you killed 8 high schoolers"
Then he thrust the needle under my chest. Through my diapram. And into my beating heart.
The pain was undescribeable, I roared as loud as I possibly could, but I could hear no sound as the molten hot liquid filled my ventricles. My vision darkened, like I was looking up from a well, everything was blurring away. Then they pulled the needle out, my blood spilled a bit onto the table, it was a translucent purple now. I had no strength in me, when they pulled me up I fell to the ground. I closed my eyes as my body began to shut down.
Then it hit me. Like I just had hundreds of steroids and a slam of cocaine. My eyes shot open and I punched the ground, sending me flying back on my feet, my heart slamming like an 8 cylinder car engine. I whipped my head around, focusing on everything. And I mean everything. I felt the blood flow in my veins, my synapses firing like a thousand lasers. "Now go get that tank soldier!!" I heard Layton over my roaring senses. I turned, and like a bullet, I charged at the tank. I traveled two hundred yards in the span of 3 seconds, still full of kinetic energy, I drew my right fist back, and hooked the tanks barrel as hard I as I could "GRAHH!" I screamed, bending the metal into a 45 degree angle. No more weapon systems. I hit the ground still moving forward, the bones in my hand already healed from breaking on the steel. Rolling to my left, I came to the side of the tank and drove my paws under the treads, and I lifted.
I was roaring like a phsyco, and my arms burned like acid, every muscle in my body overcharged with that drug. Then I heard a creak as the 10 ton piece of trash lifted a few feet. "COME ON!!" I howled at the machine. I heaved harder, lifting it farther. In the distance I heard swears and curses coming from the squad, as thin tendrils of purple blood ran over my eyes. I wasn't built for this.
I was built for more.
I Picked up the tank, and grabbed hold of the transmission shaft, and pulled with all my might under its weight. And the metal pole began to tear like rubber. It split as I drove both ends into the tanks body, and pushed out, ripping the machine through the middle. I was a fucking war machine. Did I just do this?
I tossed both ends of the tank to the side and stood tall and strong, my steaming back facing the squad. I had strained my suit too far during the process, so it tore to pieces in return. I slowly turned around to face them; my bloodshot eyes had a look of pure power. I could kill anyone, and anything. No one could stop me. I deployed my claws, and raised my armed paws to my sides, walking like the lord Jesus Christ as heat steamed off of my hide. The men had raised their weapons at me, in fear I wouldn't stop.
Then I lifted my right paw over the sergeant. Then moved it over my forehead in salute. My other at my side.
"Ready for duty, sir." I said in a firm, deep tone.