On Her Majesty's Secret Service ~ H.S.

Chapter 3

Breakfast passes quickly and before I have time to finish my second round of eggs, General Sanders is back in the mess hall with us.

"Alright, today we're running a series of tests to measure your achievement in different fields. Obviously, becoming an agent is no easy task. If you're not up to par, which you should be, you're out. Understood?" He questions. Everybody nods but this doesn't seem to satisfy the General.

"Understood?!" He shouts again.

"Yes sir." I respond forcefully. I'm the only one who speaks.

"Thank you, Frasier." General Sanders turns to me with a harsh stare. I get a feeling that's as close to appreciation as I'll ever get from him.

"We're going shooting." The General states before walking away without another word. Sarah, Isla, and I waste no time depositing our breakfast trays with the dishwasher and following after the General quickly. For some reason, unbeknownst to me, Harry, Victoria and Adam take their sweet time and straggle at the back of the group. Do they have some sort of death wish? I roll my eyes yet again.

We arrive to the shooting range and my heart begins to pound. I'm ready to show everyone what a good shot I am, especially General Sanders. He said he's testing our aptitude, so I'll show him my excellent aptitude for everything.

"Shoot your targets. The computer will tally your points automatically." General Sanders informs us. I retrieve a pair of earmuffs and select a simple Glock 19. I take a second to examine my dummy. I see 100's illustrated in the centre of the chest and head, like a dart board. This should be no problem.

I wait for the light in front of me to turn green, and take aim. By the time I'm finished my ten rounds my arm is aching but it doesn't bother me in the slightest. I see on top of my dummy the number '950'. I did miss one head shot, but by an inch. I'm sure, even with my mistake, my score will be the highest.

I set my gun down and stroll along the aisle, checking everybody else's score. I just can't help myself.

710, 650, 820, 500, 420, 690, 790, 520, 950.

I'm about to smirk to myself but reread the last number.

950.

Someone has the same score as me. I pay attention to the shooter. It's Harry. Of course it's Harry. I huff with discontent, roll my eyes, and retreat back to my shooting station, waiting for everybody else to finish. I watch General Sanders take note of our scores. It's no time before we're whisked back out to the sports hall.

"Agility. You'll be timed." The General informs us. I take in the scene before me. A medium sized obstacle course seems to be set up. There are bars perched high in the air over soft mats along with ropes and walls for climbing. I roll my ankles and stretch my arms. I'm determined to win this time. I am the smallest person here. If anyone is agile, it's me.

I wait patiently as 7 other recruits complete the course before me. I realize they all clock in at about 3 minutes as I listen to the General shout out each person's time. My name is called and I step up to the beginning of the course. I hear General Sander's whistle and take off.

I climb wooden planks up to a platform. I jump from the platform and grab onto a thick nylon rope that hangs from the air. In a single swing I'm across the ravine beneath me. Onto another platform I land, but I barely touch the surface before I bound onto a high beam and run across. My feet, at an opposition to everyone else's, are so small that I have no trouble fitting them comfortably upon the slender plank. I leap and land with a roll onto a lower platform, then take another jump onto the matted floor. A tall wall stands before me.