Page 36 of Specimen


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I move to engage, grabbing the arm of one of the soldiers and twisting it backward. I hear his wince of pain, but my actions are only enough to dissuade him, not break his arm like I would have done if the situation were not an exercise. I toss him out of the way as shots ring out.

I see the box on my chest light up before I feel the pain in my thigh. It radiates quickly, sending a shock through my body.

I’ve been hit.

Chapter 9

I’ve been hit during virtual training before, but the pain this time is much more intense. For a fraction of a second, I hesitate, and Pike is hit from the crossfire as well.

He jerks back and shakes his head slightly before narrowing his eyes and focusing again on the last solider in front of him. Pike leans back and kicks his opponent, sending him flying. With one shot from Isaac’s weapon, the soldier’s chest box lights up, and he holds his hands in surrender. All three of us concentrate on the final few soldiers up in the ceiling.

“Report, Sten!” Riley’s voice invades my head.

“Objective in sight.”

“Are you all right?”

“Minor hit,” I tell her. “All is good.”

“Get moving, then,” she says. “You’re running out of time.”

“Acknowledged.”

Pike finishes off the last adversary in the rafters. Isaac grabs the flag, and we’re on our way back. We need a fast pace to get back on time, but I’m slowed slightly by the wound in my leg, and the ambush had taken up more time than it should have.

We engage with two other groups of soldiers on our way back, but they are easily eliminated. It’s a clean shot back to the base now.

“Pick up the pace!” I call out, and we break into a run. I can barely keep up with Isaac’s speed, but I hang on. At our top speed, we’ll be three and a half minutes past our maximum time.

All three of us push beyond limits we’ve attempted before, even without injuries. I hear the heartbeats of my companions and compare them with my own slightly faster pulse. Ahead of us is the entrance to the base, and we push to our top speed, but we all know we’re late.

When we cross the threshold, there is cheering from some of the soldiers who have watched our performance over closed-circuit screens. Captain Mills is smiling and nodding, as is Dr. Rahul. Dr. McCall has a passive expression as Pike moves to stand beside her, but I only care about Riley’s interpretation of my performance.

The bright smile on her face is all I need to see.

I limp over to her, and she immediately makes an adjustment to the box on my chest, eliminating the pain running through my leg. I reach down and rub my thigh, but there is only slight residual soreness.

“You did so well,” Riley says as she reaches up and strokes the side of my face. I feel my pulse subside and my breathing quiet at her touch. “Your instincts kicked in just when they should. The decisions you made to go around the large group and scale the building were sound, and you even took a shot, providing cover for one of the other specimens. I couldn’t have asked for a better performance.”

“We went over time.”

“Not by much,” she says. “These are designed to challenge you.”

I nod and take a deep breath, glad the pain in my leg is gone. Riley gives me one more smile before we head back to the medical facility.

Very little is said as we board the helicopter and fly back over the city. The three doctors all focus on their tablets, quickly analyzing data from our mission. My thigh is still a little sore from where I was hit, but otherwise, I feel great.

We return to the field outside the medical center and gather in the middle. Captain Mills and the other men in officers’ uniforms are all there, looking at their own tablets.

“Let’s debrief,” Captain Mills says. “Overall, well done. Mission accomplished, but there are a few things we need to improve.”

One of the uniformed officers steps up to the lectern and presents an overview of the entire exercise. Riley and the other doctors listen closely, taking notes. I focus on Riley and stay silent. I remember every second of the mission and have no need for a recap.

“Timing was four minutes, twelve seconds over the estimate, which is within established parameters. Forty-two and seventy-two both took hits, which is an unacceptable percentage.”

Riley taps on her tablet. Two of the knuckles on her left hand turn white as she grips the machine. She’s not happy though I’m unsure whether it is the words of the officer or data on her display that displeases her.

The formal debriefing ends, and Captain Mills approaches our group.

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