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

Chapter 5

"Listen up! Get in line!" General Sanders shouts. He stands in the middle of the sports hall. The rest of the recruits and I have just finished dinner. The day passed uneventfully- mostly running and shooting. Now, however, we're being given something new to do.

Everybody forms a straight line. I stand tall and proud, ready for our next challenge. The combat training fiasco from yesterday is already fading from my mind. I'm eager to prove myself at whatever comes next.

"You all have a mission off-base tonight." The General notifies us. My heart skips a beat and it's hard to keep the grin from spreading across my face. A field mission? I can't wait.

"It's capture the flag." The General goes on. My smile falls. Not what I was expecting, but better than nothing.

"There will be two team captains. You're being sent to an abandoned building a couple kilometres away. The team who collects the opposition's flag first wins." General Sanders explains. I nod astutely, taking in all the information. I haven't played capture the flag in a long time, but I'm excited now I have an opportunity to practice my stealth. We never had much time for that at Oxford.

I see uniforms in a pile on the floor. I figured they would just be black, to conceal each team member in the night, but there is a lot more equipment than I expected. A chest plate, helmets, and shin pads are included in our gear. What the hell do we need those for?

Once everyone is dressed we follow General Sanders to the shooting range. In a cupboard are 10 rifles. Or what appear to be rifles. Once mine is in hand I realize there's no actual ammunition inside.

"Paintball guns- twice the strength of standard issue. Be careful." the General warns. I gulp loudly, a little nervous at the prospect of being shot by one of these things, but quickly reassure myself. I don't have to be scared because I won't be shot. I'll capture the other team's flag without even being detected. Or at least I hope so.

Everybody slings their rifle onto a single shoulder and we follow General Sanders out of the sports hall, onto the track, and into 3 black SUV's. I, of course, ensure that I don't share a car with Harry.

We drive for just 10 minutes. By the time we stop moving the sun has set and as I step down out of the vehicle I'm as good as blind. Luckily, once my helmet is on I find it's been equipped with night vision.

"Alright! I'll decide captains. They'll be choosing their own teams. Isla, you're up. Louis, you too." Sander's calls. I can't help the small irk of jealousy I feel that I wasn't chosen as a captain. I can't help but wonder if the General's decision for who's best to lead a team is indicative of who he's favouring. I try to push the thought from my mind.

I look to Isla, and the boy I've now come to learn is named Louis. He's on the smaller side, but what he lacks in height he makes up for with muscle. His short hair and curved nose are now hidden by the visor of his helmet.

Isla steps up to the plate first.

"Rosy." She calls, flashing me a smile as she lifts her helmet. Of course.

I don't mind being on Isla's team at all. In fact, I prefer it. I haven't spoken a single word to Louis. Working with him wouldn't be the highlight of my night. If he's anything like the others, I can assume he also doesn't care for me very much.

I proudly walk and take my place next to Isla, grateful I haven't been called last. I can recount a few traumatizing moments from grade school when I felt like the odd one out. I guess I feel like that here, too, but the implications are a little bit different. During training now I have no reason to care if the others like me. They'll all be gone and out of my life in 2 months.