LINDA
The morning was chilly as the official first day of 'The Brutus Project' began. Linda ran down the mental checklist of what she needed to do. This field exercise was standard fare, but Linda knew this week would be anything but. Brutus's presence changed everything.
He looked ready, freshly shaved. But then he was also out of uniform. The royal blue of his Bluecats warmup suit cut a striking contrast against the sea of black and gold, drawing her eye immediately. It was impossible to ignore him.
Of course, part of that was Brutus himself. His warmup suit strained against his shoulders, chest, thighs, a testament to the raw power beneath the fabric. Linda had to resist the urge to stare.
Even in the offseason... Linda's mind whispered. The man's a stud.
"Good morning Cranked Company," Major Kirk looked around. "And a special welcome to our guest this week, Brutus Townsend. We're going to kick our week off with something everyone just loves to partake in, right?"
"Hooah!" was of course the response, but Linda had to chuckle.
She'd done fitness tests her entire time in the Army, taking one in the early March cold sucked. The heater wasn't doing anything about the chill at that point but at least they were indoors
"Just what I thought," Major Kirk, who could hear all the subtle nuances of the 'Hooah,' said with a grin. "Now for most of us, this will be a diagnostic test. We'll be doing it just because it's a good way to kick off the week. But for Mr. Townsend and five other members of the company, you will be doing them for the record. However, I still expect everyone to give their best effort. So first, fall out, gather around Lieutenant Starr as she demonstrates the first event, the three repetition max deadlift."
The company broke up, everyone gathering around Lieutenant Starr. Linda slid over to Brutus, who was watching intently. "You feel up for this?"
"Sure," Brutus said, a playful smirk on his face. "What's the top score get me?"
Linda leaned in, her voice a conspiratorial whisper. "Maybe I'll tell you... if you impress me. But seriously, you don't need to max out everything."
"You want me to do my best, show a good attitude, right?" Brutus asked. "Then you'll get that. Now let's get warmed up."
The platoons reformed and spread out throughout the gym for warmup exercises. She wasn't worried about the events in general, she had pushed herself hard to stay fit, and to keep up with Lieutenant Starr and Jessica Adams, who looked excited and ready to go.
As the platoon got in line for their run through the tests, she even came over from Third Squad, a confident look on her face. "Five bucks says I can out-lift your new guy."
Brutus, who was right in front of Linda, gawked when he overheard the comment. Turning around, he looked at Adams, taking the measure of the woman. "You're serious?"
"You're serious, Sergeant," Linda corrected him. "And I'm not taking that bet. I know how you get, Sergeant Adams."
The event started, and Linda kept herself loose. The three rep deadlift was her least favorite event. Linda hated it. It seemed unfair how long and thin she was. So while she did okay on the women's scale, deadlifting a hundred and fifty pounds for her test, on the men's side she was barely passing.
But when it was Brutus' turn, almost all eyes cut to him. People were understandably curious how well a professional football player would do… but the results were shocking.
"More weight," Brutus said after repping three hundred pounds. A twenty-five pound plate was inserted on each side, and he lifted it like it was nothing. "More weight."
"Mr. Townsend, you only need three fifty to-"
"More. Weight."
In the end, Brutus topped out at an even five hundred pounds, the best in the company, and still he did it like it was easy. It even topped Jess Adams, who put on an impressive show per her bodyweight with a maximum of three hundred and eighty pounds, but still lost out on total poundage to Brutus easily. Putting the weight down at the end, he grinned. "Okay… what's next?"
For the next ninety minutes, Linda watched in shock and awe as Brutus put on a physical clinic. She expected him to be the best in certain events, the man was a professional athlete. But it was by just how much he was better that shocked her.
The standing medicine ball throw? He tossed the ten pound ball a casual three quarters the length of the basketball court when it was his turn, and probably could have gone further if it hadn't been that his release angle was off and he arced the ball too high into the air, almost scraping the roof's support beams. Again, he outclassed the entire company by a measurable amount.
He maxed out the hand release pushups, and in the sprint-drag-carry, he was ten seconds faster than the max score time. He was near-unbeatable.
By the time the company lined up for the next event, the plank for time, people were starting to cheer him on, and take bets to see if anyone could beat him. "Max score time is three minutes and forty seconds," Captain King, who was scoring Brutus for the event, said. "Company record is an even five minutes."
"Because of the score sheet, or because of actual tapping out?" Brutus asked.
King lifted pursed his lips. "Little of both I suppose."
Brutus nodded and assumed the position. Linda was right next to him, taking the test at the same time, and when the whistle blew she glanced over. "Still feeling strong?"
