"If there's an issue, you'll follow the same procedures as a regular soldier," Kirk said. "You follow this chain I just briefed you on. If Sergeant Castellanos tells you something and you don't agree, you go to Sergeant Orkin, and on up the line. Although I'll say, if you want to take it higher than Colonel Remsburg... well, I seriously doubt the program's going to be workable at that point."
"I agree, and I don't expect that," Brutus allowed. "But it's like with my team. I just like knowing who's coaching what positions and who tells me what to do."
"Okay, that's clear enough," Kirk said, visibly relieved. "The general thing is, you'll listen to anything another member of your fire team, Sergeant Castellanos, or Sergeant Orkin tells you. Occasionally someone with stripes might tell you to do something, but it shouldn't be an issue as it'll be clear why."
"I understand," Brutus said.
"Good. Now, you won't be cut off from the world, you'll be able to use your phone or a computer during your off hours. But you won't be allowed to carry your cell phone during work hours, a nod to your... intern status."
Brutus bristled at the term intern, but nodded. And it could be worse. During the first week of preseason camp, the players weren't allowed to have any internet access at all. If you had to contact the outside world, you had to get the team's permission, and getting caught with a cell phone was an automatic fifteen thousand dollar fine. "What if there's an emergency?"
"I've already given the Bluecats and the league office our contact information," Major Kirk said. "So if something does come up, you won't be out of the loop. And if something happens to you, we will make sure to inform all relevant parties."
"Cool. What else?"
"You'll eat in the dining facility with the rest of the troops," Kirk continued, "and the battalion cooks have been briefed on your dietary needs. Basically double protein portions for you. If you gain a little weight from the carbs... well, you've got the rest of your offseason."
"Can I take supplements?" Brutus asked. "Creatine, vitamins, stuff like that? I've got a tub of protein powder in my truck."
Kirk nodded. "Of course. Actually, there's another sergeant in your platoon who you could swap nutrition stories with if you have the time."
“Any question?”
"None that come to mind," Brutus said. "I just want to say first... thank you. All of you. I know I stuck my foot in my mouth, and I'm sorry about that. I've been talking to some professionals, trying to become a better person. It's a long path, and I'm looking forward to this week, hopefully learning a bit about the lives you lead. And if I have questions, I'll be sure to ask them."
"That's all we can ask for," Major Kirk said. "For now though, Lieutenant Parker?"
"Actually sir, I'm going to let Sergeant Orkin and Sergeant Castellanos take Mr. Townsend to get his supplies and his bunk," Parker said. "Just like a normal new enlisted member of the platoon. Sergeant Orkin?"
"Thank you sir." Orkin flashed a grin.
He looked every bit as fit as the other soldiers, but with an unmistakable mischievous air about him, like someone who'd enjoy harmless pranks.
"Come on Townsend, you can give us a ride down to the barracks in that sweet truck I saw parked outside."
It was a lot less formal than Brutus had been expecting, but seeing the chuckles around the room, he knew this was Orkin's style.
Outside, Orkin paused next to Brutus's truck, looking it over. "Nice. V-8 engine?"
"Sure is... ah, Sergeant?"
"Good, you looked that up," Orkin said. "Just remember, stripes are sergeants, bars and foliage are sir or ma'am. We've got a female officer in the company, Lieutenant Starr. Anyway, here's the lowdown. You're going to be filling the hole left by a hell of a good soldier, so you need to give it your all."
"Hole?" Brutus asked, a little worried. "Like... he's gone?"
"Yup... gone and got himself married," Orkin said, laughing. Seeing Brutus's reaction, he grinned. "Had to get one in on you. But seriously, the guy you're subbing in for, he's a good dude. And you're going to be expected to be part of the squad, part of the fire team. We won't expect you to be as good as a trained private, there's stuff you just don't know. But I am going to evaluate you on the effort you give and the attitude you display. On the positive side though, you won't have to salute officers, although like I said, call them sir or ma'am."
Brutus, Orkin, and Sergeant Castellanos piled into his truck, and Orkin directed him to the barracks. Shouldering his gym bag, Brutus wondered if he should just leave his keys in his room all week, but decided against it. He'd just keep them in his pocket, even if they were useless.
His room was on the first floor, and as Orkin opened the door Brutus looked around, pleasantly surprised. "This isn't so bad."
"Not so bad?" Orkin asked, looking around. "Dude, you can be cheerful and positive tomorrow, I'm starting the eval then."
"No, I'm serious." Brutus set his bag down on the utilitarian couch against the wall. "I mean, it's spartan. But you should see the dorm rooms the Bluecats use during the first two weeks of training camp. Coach Pugh is old school, takes us out to this JUCO in the mountains... trust me, this is luxury compared to that deal. We quadruple up in these cinder block walled rooms, bunk beds, all of that. Two whole weeks of funky bodies of three hundred pound men who pump out protein farts all night long. Even worse is when you get a roommate who's on the verge of getting cut. Fear sweat reeks."
"Well, these rooms are normally two person rooms, but with Hollywood getting married and another person transferring out, the room's yours fully for the next week," Orkin said. "By the way, your uniforms are in here. Castellanos will show you."
"Follow me," Sergeant Castellanos said, and Brutus couldn't help but watch as she walked across the room to a door, opening it. Even in the baggy, shapeless Army uniform she was captivating. "Brutus?"
