24
BRUTUS
The barbell tore into Brutus's hands, the assistance straps he was using pulling on his wrists as well. He groaned, straining against the heavy barbell with its four hundred pounds in plates and half a dozen heavy chains for additional work, trying to clear his mind.
No dice. Just as the bar got above his knees, the thought of Linda being in danger filled his mind, distracting him. He felt his body slip out of the 'groove,' and half a second later the bar crashed down to the platform, unable to move.
"You okay, Brutal?" Buddy, the gym manager, asked him.
Buddy was a longtime powerlifter, who'd coached quite a few local lifters all the way to the US Nationals. While his expertise didn't quite extend to pro football preparation, he was more than willing to do what he could to help Brutus in his preseason prep.
"Muscle?"
"No... head." Brutus unstrapped himself from the bar. "Linda got recalled yesterday."
"Hmmm... figured that was why Jess Adams didn’t come on.” Buddy nodded his head sagely. "And you haven't heard anything?"
"Nope. I tried giving Sabby Goodman a call, she sort of helped last time, but she doesn't know anything of course. She's just perfectly secure in knowing that her sister and her husband are coming back safe and sound because they're both able to piss lightning and crap thunder."
"Yup, that sounds like Sabby," Buddy said. "She's Jess's biggest fan. I saw her cheer Jess on at a local powerlifting tournament, and she was a whirlwind of energy, yelling instructions like a coach!"
"That's fine Buddy, but what do I do about up here?" Brutus asked, tapping his head. "Fuck man, this is..."
"Hard as hell?" Buddy asked.
Brutus nodded.
"I get to train amazing people, but they disappear in the middle of the night, and I might never know what happened to them. It's...hard. Look, maybe talk to the battalion. They've got family groups. You're notfamily, but...youarefamily. The way you talk about Linda, you are."
Brutus thought about it, and nodded. "You're right. Okay, let me put this shit away and-"
"And you go shower up, get changed," Buddy said agreeably. "I'll handle the bar this time. Way you are right now, you'd probably drop a damn chain on your foot and then I'd have the Bluecats coaches yelling for my ass. No thank you, sir."
Grateful, Brutus rushed back to the house to pull on a clean Bluecats t-shirt and workout shorts. Pausing, knowing he might be running with his emotions, he called up Dr. Caster. Luckily, the man was available.
"Brutus, what's the emergency?"
"Doc, Linda got recalled and I'm freaking the fuck out," Brutus admitted. "I'm scared man, and the gym manager said that I should go talk to the unit. Is that a smart idea, or am I just being a damned fool?"
"Probably both," Dr. Caster said. "Brutus, it's clear that your relationship with Linda has gotten to the point that it's a long term, maybe even permanent, thing. As such, you need to make sure that the unit loops you in as much as they can. That being said, don't expect miracles. From what you've said, they're under very strict security rules."
"I know."
"You might be rebuffed."
Brutus sighed, nodding. "I know."
"Just keep that in mind when you try. If you're turned away, it's not personal. Accept your emotions before you pop off about them, and you'll be fine," Caster said. "And when you get a chance, call me afterwards. Just to let me know you're okay."
"I will. Thanks, Doc."
Grabbing his keys, Brutus drove to the front gate of the base. The guard, recognizing him, stopped him.
"What's up, sir?"
"I know it's Sunday, but is there anyone at the 3/3 I can talk to? Colonel Remsburg or Major Kirk or someone?" Brutus asked. "I just... need to know what I can."
The guard hummed, and held up a finger. Going inside the guard shack he made a call, coming out a minute later.
