Case Study: Revolution
- Thread starter Marauder06
- Start date
Read through the test and see if the last thing on it says not to fill out the test.
Faith was directed to the end of the line and instructed to face the far wall, away from the pool. The line moved slowly, as candidates attempted the swim and then rejoined the line after having failed the event. Faith noticed that the female candidate was not among them. Probably quit, or even drowned, Faith thought. At that moment, Faith’s stomach gurgled and he realized that not only had he not slept in over a day, he hadn’t eaten, either. He didn’t feel hungry up to this point, but now he was ravenous. Maybe he could scare up something to eat after he passed this swim test. If he passed, he corrected himself.
When it was his turn once again, he took a deep breath, sank to the bottom, pushed off the side with his legs as hard as he could, and furiously struggled towards the 50m buoy. As he was trying—and failing—to make much progress, he noticed a collection of equipment at the bottom of the pool. There were a couple of sets of body armor, equipment harnesses, and even a pair of boots strewn across the bottom. Faith felt bad for the candidates that were going to have to recover them before their next attempt at this event.
Faith was a strong swimmer, but he wasn’t stronger than the pool when he was wearing all of that gear. He failed again, and this time had to be helped from the pool. He thought he may have blacked out at some point, but he wasn’t sure. He laid down at the edge of the pool, sputtering and trying to catch his breath.
“Candidate Faith, you are a no-go at this event for a second time. Are you feeling OK? Do you want to quit?”
“Yes,” Faith answered.
“You want to quit, are you sure?”
“What? No, I don’t want to quit; yes, I’m feeling OK,” he said with annoyance as he rolled onto his belly and got to his feet.
Up to this point, Faith felt pretty comfortable about his performance in the assessment. But he had just failed the same event, twice. There had to be a solution here, something he was overlooking. What he was being asked to do was impossible… but he had seen the demonstrator do it, and surely not all of the other candidates who were no longer in line with him had all failed. There was something that he was overlooking. He needed to figure out what it was, fast.
When it was his turn once again, he took a deep breath, sank to the bottom, pushed off the side with his legs as hard as he could, and furiously struggled towards the 50m buoy. As he was trying—and failing—to make much progress, he noticed a collection of equipment at the bottom of the pool. There were a couple of sets of body armor, equipment harnesses, and even a pair of boots strewn across the bottom. Faith felt bad for the candidates that were going to have to recover them before their next attempt at this event.
Faith was a strong swimmer, but he wasn’t stronger than the pool when he was wearing all of that gear. He failed again, and this time had to be helped from the pool. He thought he may have blacked out at some point, but he wasn’t sure. He laid down at the edge of the pool, sputtering and trying to catch his breath.
“Candidate Faith, you are a no-go at this event for a second time. Are you feeling OK? Do you want to quit?”
“Yes,” Faith answered.
“You want to quit, are you sure?”
“What? No, I don’t want to quit; yes, I’m feeling OK,” he said with annoyance as he rolled onto his belly and got to his feet.
Up to this point, Faith felt pretty comfortable about his performance in the assessment. But he had just failed the same event, twice. There had to be a solution here, something he was overlooking. What he was being asked to do was impossible… but he had seen the demonstrator do it, and surely not all of the other candidates who were no longer in line with him had all failed. There was something that he was overlooking. He needed to figure out what it was, fast.
Daedalus
Verified Military
Maybe he could, I dunno, take off the rest of his gear and keep his helmet on?:-"
Didn't you hear the instructions? They were quite explicit. Don't you think that if taking that gear off was an option, he would have been briefed on that?
policemedic
Verified SWAT
He was, you must keep your flight helmet on to complete the event. Were you not paying attention to his briefing?
explicitly:
That's what I was going to say.He was, you must keep your flight helmet on to complete the event. Were you not paying attention to his briefing?
explicitly:
The only thing not on the floor of the pool is a flight helmet.
Now post the next segment damnit!
SpongeBob*24
Verified Military
Out side the boxx thinking is the only thing thats gonna get Faith thru this bag full of faggotry he is in!
The instructor has stated that the only thing that needs to stay on is the flight helmet, dump the rest of that shit and swim. There is a reason CIRAS, RBAV etc have a release system and it aint so stitch bitches can charge more for them.
Not necessarily.
“Your flight helmet must remain on your head for the duration of this event." Doesn't mean the rest of the gear MUST be kept on.
On his way back to the line to wait for his third attempt at the swim, it all came together for him. The instructions were that his HELMET had to remain on, there was nothing said about the rest of his gear. That explains the equipment strewn across the bottom of the pool; several candidates had already cracked the code. Faith reasoned he would have figured this out for himself sooner if it wasn’t for the stress and lack of sleep.
At the end of the line, facing once again away from the pool, Faith loosened his boot laces and found the quick release strap that would divest him of the burden of his body armor with a single tug. He felt almost giddy as realized that he now actually had a chance at passing this event. He shuffled backwards towards the pool when directed by the cadre. He had backed closer to the pool twice before another candidate rejoined the line. This man seemed very upset; Faith heard him muttering under his breath.
“Hey man,” Faith whispered, “All you need to do is…”
“No talking, candidates!” a cadre member barked. Faith remained silent, but made a display of loosening his boots and “practicing” the quick release on his gear. Maybe one of the other candidates would see or hear what he was doing and make the connection about what it took to pass this test.
When it was Faith’s turn again, he leaped confidently into the pool. As soon as he was submerged, he triggered the quick release on his body armor, jettisoned his equipment belt, and shed his boots. By the time he reached the bottom of the pool, he was wearing only his socks, the flight suit, and his helmet. He pushed off as hard as he could from the side of the pool, and easily swam the 50 meters to the buoy, bobbing up well on the other side of the “pass” line.
“Exit the pool, candidate,” was all he was told.
At the end of the line, facing once again away from the pool, Faith loosened his boot laces and found the quick release strap that would divest him of the burden of his body armor with a single tug. He felt almost giddy as realized that he now actually had a chance at passing this event. He shuffled backwards towards the pool when directed by the cadre. He had backed closer to the pool twice before another candidate rejoined the line. This man seemed very upset; Faith heard him muttering under his breath.
“Hey man,” Faith whispered, “All you need to do is…”
“No talking, candidates!” a cadre member barked. Faith remained silent, but made a display of loosening his boots and “practicing” the quick release on his gear. Maybe one of the other candidates would see or hear what he was doing and make the connection about what it took to pass this test.
When it was Faith’s turn again, he leaped confidently into the pool. As soon as he was submerged, he triggered the quick release on his body armor, jettisoned his equipment belt, and shed his boots. By the time he reached the bottom of the pool, he was wearing only his socks, the flight suit, and his helmet. He pushed off as hard as he could from the side of the pool, and easily swam the 50 meters to the buoy, bobbing up well on the other side of the “pass” line.
“Exit the pool, candidate,” was all he was told.
Faith was directed to wait in the locker room for a time, and was then brought back out to poolside.
“Candidates!” a burly cadre member bellowed. “You will retrieve the gear at the bottom of the pool and return it to serviceable condition. You will put all of your equipment back on and be lined up on the side of the pool, ready for your next evolution. You have five minutes to make this happen,” he added, making a show of clicking a button on the stopwatch he held in his hand. Two candidates immediately jumped into the pool.
“Wait!” Faith exclaimed. “We should come up with a plan.”
“There’s no time for that,” countered another candidate, elbowing his way past Faith. “We only have five minutes!”
Faith felt a moment of frustration. There was no way all of them were going to be able to get all of their own equipment retrieved, sorted, put back together, and put back on in five minutes unless they all worked together.
“Well, Einstein said that if he only had five minutes to solve a problem, he’d spend four minutes figuring out the problem, and then one minute solving it,” said a woman’s voice to his right. He turned and saw the same woman who had been with him in the truck that first day, and who had apparently figured out the swim test much sooner than he had. “What do you suggest?”
Faith knew that the Einstein quote wasn’t exactly right, but whatever; it was close enough for government work. Faith suggested a team effort, in which one group retrieved the gear from the bottom, another group sorted it into piles, and yet another group put the pieces back together. There was apparently only one person candidate who knew how to put the body armor back together after the quick release had been triggered (it was not as intuitive as Faith thought it would be). In less than 30 seconds, the candidates had figured out a plan and it was in motion. Things didn’t go exactly smoothly, but they went quickly and efficiently, and working together the whole process went much faster than it would have if they had all tried to work independently. Even the candidates that initially jumped the gun joined in the group effort. Faith had just finished tying his boots when the cadre member with the stopwatch called time.
“Candidates!” he announced. “You will now exit the pool area through the door to your left. You will proceed in single file to the equipment draw area, where you will receive your rucksack and a plastic M-16 and await further instructions regarding your next event.”
“Candidates!” a burly cadre member bellowed. “You will retrieve the gear at the bottom of the pool and return it to serviceable condition. You will put all of your equipment back on and be lined up on the side of the pool, ready for your next evolution. You have five minutes to make this happen,” he added, making a show of clicking a button on the stopwatch he held in his hand. Two candidates immediately jumped into the pool.
“Wait!” Faith exclaimed. “We should come up with a plan.”
“There’s no time for that,” countered another candidate, elbowing his way past Faith. “We only have five minutes!”
Faith felt a moment of frustration. There was no way all of them were going to be able to get all of their own equipment retrieved, sorted, put back together, and put back on in five minutes unless they all worked together.
“Well, Einstein said that if he only had five minutes to solve a problem, he’d spend four minutes figuring out the problem, and then one minute solving it,” said a woman’s voice to his right. He turned and saw the same woman who had been with him in the truck that first day, and who had apparently figured out the swim test much sooner than he had. “What do you suggest?”
Faith knew that the Einstein quote wasn’t exactly right, but whatever; it was close enough for government work. Faith suggested a team effort, in which one group retrieved the gear from the bottom, another group sorted it into piles, and yet another group put the pieces back together. There was apparently only one person candidate who knew how to put the body armor back together after the quick release had been triggered (it was not as intuitive as Faith thought it would be). In less than 30 seconds, the candidates had figured out a plan and it was in motion. Things didn’t go exactly smoothly, but they went quickly and efficiently, and working together the whole process went much faster than it would have if they had all tried to work independently. Even the candidates that initially jumped the gun joined in the group effort. Faith had just finished tying his boots when the cadre member with the stopwatch called time.
“Candidates!” he announced. “You will now exit the pool area through the door to your left. You will proceed in single file to the equipment draw area, where you will receive your rucksack and a plastic M-16 and await further instructions regarding your next event.”
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Faith received back the rucksack he had brought with him to the assessment, and a plastic M-16 that looked like it had been made back in the 1970s. He had expected the next event to be a footmarch, but was surprised to learn that it was, in fact, a land navigation exercise. He and the rest of the candidates we directed to ground their rucks and await further instructions. Faith set his rucksack down and laid down with his back against it. He took off his body armor, boots, and equipment and spread them over the top of the ruck to dry. Several other candidates were close to where he was, but no one seemed to feel like talking. Faith sat down on the ground with his back against his upright rucksack. He placed the butt of the rubber M-16 on the ground beside his hip, muzzle pointed upward, and wrapped his right arm around the stock.
Then, following the tradition of Soldiers everywhere who had nothing particular to do, and no particular place to be, promptly fell asleep in the late afternoon sun.
Then, following the tradition of Soldiers everywhere who had nothing particular to do, and no particular place to be, promptly fell asleep in the late afternoon sun.
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Bad move, he wasn't told he could sleep.
By the time Faith awoke, it was dusk. On the air, above the smell of his still-damp clothing and equipment, Faith smelled something… good. While he felt refreshed after his nap, he was still ravenously hungry. Without a watch, he had no idea how long he had been asleep, but it was probably for a couple of hours. After what he and the other candidates had been through over the last couple of days, he needed it. He stood up and stretched. Most of the other candidates we passed out asleep around him. Faith would probably still be asleep too, if he hadn’t been overpowered by a strong need to pee. He observed a short serving line set up off to one side of the area where the candidates had assembled. One of the men behind the serving line, seeing Faith stand and stretch, gave a friendly wave. Faith waved back.
“I hope that is for us,” Faith heard a woman’s voice say. Startled, he turned to see the female candidate he had seen, but never really spoken to, before now.
“Me too,” Faith agreed, and he really meant it. He had eaten a grand total of absolutely nothing since assessment started… whenever that was. Without a watch, and having been in a box after being “captured” in the initial phase of evaluation, he not only didn’t know what time it was, he didn’t even know what day it was.
“Hey, I’m Scott Faith,” he said, walking over to where she was seated and extending a hand. The woman’s eyes flicked momentarily over to the line of servers. “I don’t think they care about us talking to each other,” he assured her. She took his hand with a firm grip.
“I’m Shannon,” she told him. Faith noticed that she didn’t give a last name. She had an “officer” look to her, and since she was female, she had to be in some sort of support capacity. Most likely, Faith assumed, military intelligence.
“Are you intel too, Shannon?” Faith asked her. She shook her head. “Admin?” nope. “Supply?” She wasn’t that, either. Faith was perplexed.
“I’m a pilot,” she informed him.
“I didn’t realize the 16th had any female pilots,” Faith said without really thinking.
“I’m not assessing for the 16th,” Shannon informed him. Not waiting for follow-up questions, she added, “What do you say we go over to that line, and see if we can talk those cooks into giving us some chow?”
“I hope that is for us,” Faith heard a woman’s voice say. Startled, he turned to see the female candidate he had seen, but never really spoken to, before now.
“Me too,” Faith agreed, and he really meant it. He had eaten a grand total of absolutely nothing since assessment started… whenever that was. Without a watch, and having been in a box after being “captured” in the initial phase of evaluation, he not only didn’t know what time it was, he didn’t even know what day it was.
“Hey, I’m Scott Faith,” he said, walking over to where she was seated and extending a hand. The woman’s eyes flicked momentarily over to the line of servers. “I don’t think they care about us talking to each other,” he assured her. She took his hand with a firm grip.
“I’m Shannon,” she told him. Faith noticed that she didn’t give a last name. She had an “officer” look to her, and since she was female, she had to be in some sort of support capacity. Most likely, Faith assumed, military intelligence.
“Are you intel too, Shannon?” Faith asked her. She shook her head. “Admin?” nope. “Supply?” She wasn’t that, either. Faith was perplexed.
“I’m a pilot,” she informed him.
“I didn’t realize the 16th had any female pilots,” Faith said without really thinking.
“I’m not assessing for the 16th,” Shannon informed him. Not waiting for follow-up questions, she added, “What do you say we go over to that line, and see if we can talk those cooks into giving us some chow?”
The men in the serving line were, in fact cooks and they were, in fact, quite happy to serve up chow. They were friendly and talkative, and Faith and Shannon found out that it had been almost two full days since assessment started “Feels a lot longer,” Shannon confided. The cooks also told them that the assessment cadre would be back at 1800 hours sharp, which was about a half-hour from now.
“What do you think we should do with the rest of the candidates?” Shannon asked Faith after they had returned to their rucksacks, their plates piled high with steaming food.
“Well, on the one hand,” Faith responded, “It looks like they all really need their rest. On the other hand, I’m not sure the food is going to last past the time that the cadre show back up.” Faith thought a bit more. “Let’s do this—there are only like a dozen or so other candidates here. Let’s get them all a plate of food and bring it over to them. Then we’ll wake them up and give them their chow. That will give them the max sleep time, prevent a rush to the chow line, and still make sure everyone gets something to eat.”
Shannon agreed with this course of action, and the two of them soon had every candidate supplied with a plate of warm food, a flatware packet, and a bottle of ice water. Some of the candidates were pretty groggy at first, but the prospect of finally having something to eat woke them up quickly.
Faith and Shannon chatted over their meal. Faith was pretty impressed; she seemed fit, smart, and personable. She was also easy on the eyes, Faith noticed.
“Did you get some sleep, finally?” Faith asked.
“Yes, a couple of hours. I also napped out during the SERE portion,” Shannon confided.
“How did you do that?” Faith asked, impressed.
“Well, when they weren’t beating the crap out of me and trying to get me to sign a confession, they had me in this little cage with no doors or windows,” she explained.
“But they told us specifically not to sleep,” Faith countered.
“Yep!” Shannon answered conspiratorially, shoveling in another mouthful of food.
“So you got some sleep… did you get anything to eat, too?”
“Yep!” Shannon said again.
Now Faith was REALLY impressed. “How the hell did you manage that?”
“I asked them for something to eat, and I kept asking until they gave me something,” she answered. “Every time they wanted to talk to me, I told them I couldn’t think straight because I was so hungry. So eventually they gave me a couple of oranges and some stale bread.”
“I didn’t get ANYTHING to eat from the time assessment started until now,” Faith told her.
“Did you ask?” Shannon inquired. Faith had to admit he hadn’t.
“What do you think we should do with the rest of the candidates?” Shannon asked Faith after they had returned to their rucksacks, their plates piled high with steaming food.
“Well, on the one hand,” Faith responded, “It looks like they all really need their rest. On the other hand, I’m not sure the food is going to last past the time that the cadre show back up.” Faith thought a bit more. “Let’s do this—there are only like a dozen or so other candidates here. Let’s get them all a plate of food and bring it over to them. Then we’ll wake them up and give them their chow. That will give them the max sleep time, prevent a rush to the chow line, and still make sure everyone gets something to eat.”
Shannon agreed with this course of action, and the two of them soon had every candidate supplied with a plate of warm food, a flatware packet, and a bottle of ice water. Some of the candidates were pretty groggy at first, but the prospect of finally having something to eat woke them up quickly.
Faith and Shannon chatted over their meal. Faith was pretty impressed; she seemed fit, smart, and personable. She was also easy on the eyes, Faith noticed.
“Did you get some sleep, finally?” Faith asked.
“Yes, a couple of hours. I also napped out during the SERE portion,” Shannon confided.
“How did you do that?” Faith asked, impressed.
“Well, when they weren’t beating the crap out of me and trying to get me to sign a confession, they had me in this little cage with no doors or windows,” she explained.
“But they told us specifically not to sleep,” Faith countered.
“Yep!” Shannon answered conspiratorially, shoveling in another mouthful of food.
“So you got some sleep… did you get anything to eat, too?”
“Yep!” Shannon said again.
Now Faith was REALLY impressed. “How the hell did you manage that?”
“I asked them for something to eat, and I kept asking until they gave me something,” she answered. “Every time they wanted to talk to me, I told them I couldn’t think straight because I was so hungry. So eventually they gave me a couple of oranges and some stale bread.”
“I didn’t get ANYTHING to eat from the time assessment started until now,” Faith told her.
“Did you ask?” Shannon inquired. Faith had to admit he hadn’t.
Over dinner, Faith and Shannon discussed strategies for the upcoming land navigation event. Shannon mentioned that her map had been confiscated during the initial “shakedown,” much the same way Faith had lost his compass. She, too, had reported to the location specified in her instructions, only to be told that she was in the wrong spot, and to ultimately end up in a blacked-out van on the way to an undisclosed location. The two of them made a deal that, if the instructions they were given allowed, they would partner up on the land nav event. If they pooled resources, they might get through the event together.
After they were done eating and planning, Faith stopped by to thank the cooks as he threw away his now-empty plate and utensils.
“Seconds?” the head cook, a young-looking staff sergeant, offered.
“No thanks,” Faith said, smiling. “That was the best chow I had in a while, though, for sure.”
“Want anything for the road?” the cook pressed.
“Do you have anything that’s not going to spoil in the back of a rucksack?” Faith asked. The cook glanced over at a small pile of non-descript rectangular cardboard boxes.
“MREs?” Faith inquired. The cook nodded. “Thanks, brother.”
“Don’t thank me until you make it through,” the other man said. “Good luck!” he added before issuing instructions to the other cooks to start breaking down the chow line.
“Leaving so soon?” Faith teased.
“We’re supposed to be out of here before the cadre members come back,” the cook replied. “Which will be in…” he consulted his watch “Seven minutes. Plus or minus 30 seconds.”
Faith looked at the pile of MREs and did the mental math. If all the boxes were full, he knew that there were 12 meals in each box, and there were 14 or so candidates. So there were enough MREs for everyone to get two meals each. Almost. Faith noticed that at least one of the boxes had been opened and was about half full. At least one person would have to be short a meal.
“MREs!” Faith announced to his favorite candidates. “Come get them and put them in your rucks before the assessment cadre members show up. Two each!” Individuals straggled up to the boxes and took two MREs. Faith noticed one fellow candidate, a tall man Faith figured for a pilot, began rifling through the MREs, looking for the ones he liked.
“Hey bro, don’t rat fuck the MREs,” Faith admonished gently. “Just grab two.” The other man bristled.
“Who the fuck put you in charge?” he challenged, standing face to face with Faith.
“No one,” Faith admitted. The other man, who Faith decided to nickname “Ken” because of his doll-like good looks, made a “that’s what I thought” face and bent back down to the box. When he was satisfied with the two meals he had, he gave a withering glance at Faith and then stalked back to his rucksack to store his MREs. The man in line behind Ken looked at Faith and stuck his hands in the box of MREs, coming up with the first two meals he randomly grabbed. “Thanks, bro,” he said before heading back to his own ruck.
Faith was pleased to see that although she was seated relatively close to the MRE line, that Shannon waited until everyone else had received their meals before getting up to get one of her own.
“Anything left?” she asked cheerfully.
“Well, there are two of us and only two MREs left,” Faith informed her. “Why don’t you pick out the one you want, and I’ll take the last one?” he suggested.
Shannon fished both of the remaining MREs out of the box and held one in each hand. Without looking at what the meals were, she said, “I’ll take this one,” waving the MRE in her left hand and handing the one in her right over to Faith. When he received it, Faith looked at the wrapper. “Tuna with noodles,” he announced. Not his favorite meal, by a long shot. Shannon looked at hers. “Want to trade?” she asked. Whatever else it was, it would bound to be better than what he currently had. He nodded and they exchanged MREs. Faith looked down at the meal he had just received. Tuna with noodles. Shannon smiled mischieviously and turned to go back to her rucksack as Faith laughed out loud. Faith tidied up the empty boxes and re-arranged them the way they had been set up by the cooks. He had just finished putting all of his gear back on when two black vans pulled up, and screaming cadre members poured out of them.
“Plus or minus 30 seconds,” Faith muttered to himself.
“Never Say Quit,” he heard another candidate answer.
After they were done eating and planning, Faith stopped by to thank the cooks as he threw away his now-empty plate and utensils.
“Seconds?” the head cook, a young-looking staff sergeant, offered.
“No thanks,” Faith said, smiling. “That was the best chow I had in a while, though, for sure.”
“Want anything for the road?” the cook pressed.
“Do you have anything that’s not going to spoil in the back of a rucksack?” Faith asked. The cook glanced over at a small pile of non-descript rectangular cardboard boxes.
“MREs?” Faith inquired. The cook nodded. “Thanks, brother.”
“Don’t thank me until you make it through,” the other man said. “Good luck!” he added before issuing instructions to the other cooks to start breaking down the chow line.
“Leaving so soon?” Faith teased.
“We’re supposed to be out of here before the cadre members come back,” the cook replied. “Which will be in…” he consulted his watch “Seven minutes. Plus or minus 30 seconds.”
Faith looked at the pile of MREs and did the mental math. If all the boxes were full, he knew that there were 12 meals in each box, and there were 14 or so candidates. So there were enough MREs for everyone to get two meals each. Almost. Faith noticed that at least one of the boxes had been opened and was about half full. At least one person would have to be short a meal.
“MREs!” Faith announced to his favorite candidates. “Come get them and put them in your rucks before the assessment cadre members show up. Two each!” Individuals straggled up to the boxes and took two MREs. Faith noticed one fellow candidate, a tall man Faith figured for a pilot, began rifling through the MREs, looking for the ones he liked.
“Hey bro, don’t rat fuck the MREs,” Faith admonished gently. “Just grab two.” The other man bristled.
“Who the fuck put you in charge?” he challenged, standing face to face with Faith.
“No one,” Faith admitted. The other man, who Faith decided to nickname “Ken” because of his doll-like good looks, made a “that’s what I thought” face and bent back down to the box. When he was satisfied with the two meals he had, he gave a withering glance at Faith and then stalked back to his rucksack to store his MREs. The man in line behind Ken looked at Faith and stuck his hands in the box of MREs, coming up with the first two meals he randomly grabbed. “Thanks, bro,” he said before heading back to his own ruck.
Faith was pleased to see that although she was seated relatively close to the MRE line, that Shannon waited until everyone else had received their meals before getting up to get one of her own.
“Anything left?” she asked cheerfully.
“Well, there are two of us and only two MREs left,” Faith informed her. “Why don’t you pick out the one you want, and I’ll take the last one?” he suggested.
Shannon fished both of the remaining MREs out of the box and held one in each hand. Without looking at what the meals were, she said, “I’ll take this one,” waving the MRE in her left hand and handing the one in her right over to Faith. When he received it, Faith looked at the wrapper. “Tuna with noodles,” he announced. Not his favorite meal, by a long shot. Shannon looked at hers. “Want to trade?” she asked. Whatever else it was, it would bound to be better than what he currently had. He nodded and they exchanged MREs. Faith looked down at the meal he had just received. Tuna with noodles. Shannon smiled mischieviously and turned to go back to her rucksack as Faith laughed out loud. Faith tidied up the empty boxes and re-arranged them the way they had been set up by the cooks. He had just finished putting all of his gear back on when two black vans pulled up, and screaming cadre members poured out of them.
“Plus or minus 30 seconds,” Faith muttered to himself.
“Never Say Quit,” he heard another candidate answer.
The cooks are reporting on the Candidates,Ken may have fucked himself.
Don't they tell you "you're always being assessed" up there?
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