The Compound
2010
The next day was the physical and mental assessments. Xander throughout the day ran a forty yard dash, bench pressed his max, took a written exam and finally sat down with the Project's psychologist, Dr. Pindar.
They sat in his house, facing each other - Xander on the couch next to the bookshelf and Pindar in the armchair across the room. Xander's features hung, exhausted from the day and agitated by the thought that he was now a lab rat for a mysterious government contractor.
"Okay Xander. We are just going to talk. Our aim here today is to open up about how you are feeling and handling the transition to the Project."
"Okay..."
"So, how's it going?"
"Fine..." A long pause followed the terse response. Many moments passed, Dr. Pindar adjusted her approach.
"It's okay to open up to me. Anything you say here will remain between us." A smirk materialized over Xander's face. "Is something funny?"
"I'm a guinea pig in a fish bowl, trying to figure out how to swim..." Xander shrugged.
"Why did you come to Project Sparta?" Xander hesitated a beat.
"I always knew that I was different after the crash. I saw things differently. I remembered everything and could read people instinctually. Every other kid around me was behind... So I devoured every book I could get my hands on, because I had no friends and couldn't relate to anyone my age. I would have stopped going to school a very long time ago if Ms. Baker hadn't forced me to go. I figured the program was for people like me. What I have seen so far is that each recruit is here for a specific purpose. But I can't figure out what my purpose is? What's my expertise? What makes me special? Why do you people even want me here?" Dr. Pindar jotted down a few notes.
"Colonel Hardy hand selected each Spartan. I do not know why he picked you... but I can tell you this: for the last forty-eight hours I have been speaking with each recruit helping them cope with the reality that they had been selected for a black ops training program and their lives would never be the same..." Dr. Pindar explained.
"So?" Humility blinded Xander to some truths.
"I can tell you that you aren't as nearly as distraught by that reality... so, maybe it is your courage that sets you apart."
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Xander couldn't sleep at all that night - morning came and he had not closed his eyes once. He fixed his sights on the fan's revolutions and again assessed his peculiar surroundings. His mind raced attempting to process the mystery and unorthodoxy of the Compound. He reflected on the day, his assessments and how he was being tested by government contractors. He still didn't understand why. Project Sparta's apparent methods and quarantined nature made Xander skeptical of the Project's true intent.
It helped to know other recruits were going through it with him. He had the beginnings of a friendship with Ezra and Jooles, but there was a special, unspoken connection with Fiona. It consisted of guilty, bashful smiles - small talk and awkward interactions. It was something to look forward to each day.
Today was his first day of live training. He fried three eggs that he had found in the refrigerator food supplies, just like what Ms. Baker would make him on his first day of school. He had never been taught but he had watched her one morning and most of the time that was all Xander needed. He walked out into his front yard in his bathrobe and looked up at the dome ceiling. It no longer looked like a ceiling, rather it was imprinting with an image of clouds and birds flying by on the dome ceiling. The concrete walls and ceiling were no longer exposed, the Compound before him now resembled a small mid-western town. Xander felt the warm temperature loosen his skin and the cool summer breeze brush by in a whirl. The lone circular window to the outside world poured bright natural light in for the trees of the Thicket. The Compound now had a pulse. They were in their own world now.
To Xander's surprise, a voice from the sky sweetly spoke, like a mother waking her children up for school.
"Good Morning, Spartans." The voice paused a moment. The other recruits joined Xander outside in the middle of the street and gazed toward the massive skylight. Fiona smiled, still dressed in her pajamas, as she was amazed by the fact she had awoken in what seemed like a livable, charming place. "I am Anni: I am an artificial intelligence program that helps run the Compound. It's my pleasure to serve you. Your training begins today. You will first report to the Armory for weapons training at 0700. You will then go to securities and intelligence training in the Mainframe. Lastly, you will report to the Thicket for espionage and stealth training. Have a good day Spartans and remember, nothing is as it seems..." The intercom system in the Compound returned to playing typical suburban background samples and the recruits looked around at each other, still taken aback by the surprise voice from the sky and the new feel of the Compound.
The warmest voice I've heard since I've been in here... and it isn't even a human's.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Later that morning the Spartans walked over to the Armory for their first class. The facility was bigger than it looked from the outside. There was a shooting range, wrestling mats, archery targets and trenches dug into the ground. Captain Axle awaited them, arms folded across his chest, beaming down at his new recruits. He noticed the inflamed grape covering Xander's eye. His eyes furrowed as if to say: That a boy.
"Alright Spartans, we are going to learn how to shoot one of these." Hardy flashed his Glock. "The first and most important lesson of using a firearm is safety."Axle proceeded to teach the proper holding technique, the different parts of a firearm and basic concepts in how to physically and mentally handle a firearm. After thirty minutes of introductory lecturing, Axle looked over the recruits and made his selection.
"Xander, come here." Axle held the M1911 pistol out for him. Xander sauntered up to the gun and grabbed its thick grip. The gun dropped in his grasp for he was not expecting its weight. Xander looked to Axle for direction. "Go on! Go over to the range and try to shoot the target." Xander heaved the gun over to shooting mats, careful to employ the correct safety measures covered. He held the gun up with both hands and fired a round which jolted him back a couple of steps. He wasn't ready for the kickback and his shot came nowhere close to the target. His ears rung. His eyes were closed. The bullet drove into the ground fifteen feet in front of him. The only sound to come through his ringing ears was the cackling of Duke and Bronson as a second misfire blasted through the room.
"What the hell is so funny?!" Axle ripped into Duke and Bronson with a deprecatory bite.
"Nothing, sir!"
"You bet your ass nothing! Now I want to see how excellent of a marksman you are, Duke." He motioned for Duke to approach the gun before him at his shooting mat. Duke did so and took a pretty experienced stance. Xander noticed he was standing with his right foot back and his left foot forward to increase balance, stability and cushion for the kick. He noticed his raised shoulders and firm grip. He zeroed in on the whites of his knuckles, his skin creases pulled tight. Duke's eye down the sight of the pistol - he fired off a round, hitting the shoulder of the target sheet at the end of the range.
"Beat that Oliver Twist!" he taunted, looking over at Xander. Xander had absorbed everything he could from Duke's shot, his posture, form and grip and employed those techniques himself seamlessly and calmly. His mind processed what he had seen. Xander in one fluid motion brought the barrel up to his eye and fired off a full magazine clip at the target down the range. Each bullet punctured the black paper silhouette's chest and then with one quick aiming adjustment Xander's last round hit the target in the middle of the forehead. He ejected his clip which hit the ground and he placed the empty pistol back on his mat. The hot gust of air rose from the end of the barrel and with it - any doubt in Xander's abilities. The Spartans immediately started murmuring amongst themselves. Xander, himself, was taken aback.
How did I do that?
The only one not impressed was Duke, who had just been out shot by the kid who didn't even know what skeet was.
"Have you shot a gun before today?" Axle asked, knowing Xander's recruitment file by heart. Xander gave a slight shake of his head. "How did you do that?"
Xander caught the lump in his throat and couldn't find the words.
"I just learned it, I guess..." All eyes were steady on Xander - motionless in disbelief.
"Alright Spartans, all of you give it a go!" Most of the cadets looked overwhelmed and inexperienced, but over time they grew more confident with the firearm and their shooting technique improved.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
The Spartans had found their way over to the Mess Hall for lunch after Tactical training. At Xander's table sat Fiona, Ezra, Jooles and Mac. At Duke's table sat Seamus, Bronson, Ashton, and Tobias. They had gotten their food from the cafeteria line and were served a high protein diet - a mushy mystery meat, kale and lentils.
"Where is the sugar!" Ezra exclaimed. His comment was met with general agreement and labored mastication.
"This food might be the hardest part of our training," Seamus said spitting out a half chewed portion of mystery meat. He started coughing in disgust.
"Wrong pipe?" Fiona asked.
"Any pipe is the wrong pipe, where are the Chicken Fingers for God's sakes!" Seamus responded over his plate. The Spartans laughed collectively.
"Xander, that was some incredible shooting today," Fiona said as impressed as the rest.
"Thanks..." Xander responded humbly.
"You really showed Duke!" Jooles said, lowering her voice so the other table couldn't here.
"Yeah, I guess I did."
"You should have seen his face!" Fiona whispered, beaming at him wonderment.
"Oh I did and I'm glad I have a photographic memory because that's one face I never want to forget!" The table erupted in laughter. Xander looked over to the other table and met a vengeful expression on Duke's face that glared over at him. A shiver shook through Xander's spine paralyzing him, for he knew that Duke had an entrenched hatred growing at his core and Xander feared what that would make him capable of.
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