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Chapter Four
Cole
Cole stands fully dressed in his gear, watching over sixty-three men low crawl through a sea of mud. It’s cold inside the warehouse, but it doesn’t matter. These men need to be able to handle anything thrown at them.
“There’s been talk you’re looking for a recruit.”
“Major Anderson,” Cole nods, “nice to see you again.”
“You too, Colonel.” He crosses his arms as he stands next to Cole. “Any men caught your attention?”
Cole smirks, not wanting it to be known that he is indeed looking. It’s been five days of hell for these men. They’ve gotten maybe twenty-eight hours of sleep total.
“I have three if you’re interested,” Anderson says quietly. Cole doesn’t bite; he continues to watch his own prospect. “Forty-three, eleven, and fifty-nine.”
Cole scans the men’s arms and finds the three Anderson pointed out. Fifty-nine is already on his radar. His name is Captain Terrance Roth, from Texas. He’s thirty and one tough son of a bitch. He’d be perfect to work under Mike since Cole wants Keith to join Blackstone. Keith has proven time and time again that he should be on Cole’s team, but Cole never moved him because he always liked the way Keith ran the outside unit. But with the way he has taken care of Savannah since she came to the house, Keith is now guaranteed the spot. Cole just hopes he’ll take it.
“On your backs,” Cole orders. “Sit-ups—go.”
“Yes, Colonel,” the men shout in unison.
Cole glances at Mark, who is on his phone. He is smiling, then quickly hangs up. After a hundred sit-ups, Cole orders the men to stand in rows and pick up a long, thick log.
“You lift the log over your head, to your other shoulder and repeat this until I say otherwise,” Cole instructs. “Do not move your head. Go.”
Cole walks through the rows of men, making sure none of them is slacking on lifting their part of the weight. He stops in front of number thirty-four, who slumps to his knees.
“What’s your problem, candidate?” Cole barks.
“Legs aren’t working, sir.”
“You need to see a medic?”
“No, sir.”
“Then get back up and lift that log!” he demands. “You think it’s fair for the rest of your team to carry the weight while you take a rest?”
“No, sir.”
“Then, move!”
The man squeezes his eyes as he tries to stand. He’s finished; Cole can see it. “I can’t.”
“Are you VW?”
“Yes, sir.”
“I need to hear you say it.”
“I voluntary withdraw.”
“Okay, thirty-four, head that way and give your name to Major Paul.” He orders the rest of the men to lay the logs down.
Cole moves along the rows.
“Drop and roll, candidates.” The men drop to the ground and roll all the way to one end of the pit, then roll back. Over and over again. He notices another man slowing down, holding the other men up.
He strolls over to his line. “If seven-eight can’t keep up, roll over him,” he shouts to the men who are enjoying the holdup. “Seven-eight, are you getting dizzy?”
