Carpathian Mountains — Edonia | October 14, 2011 | 06:00
The training camp sat in a valley between two ridges that blocked sunlight until mid-morning and held cold air until noon.
The approach road was unpaved and showed the marks of vehicles that didn't care about the suspension systems of the vehicles using it. The compound itself was functional without being minimal — buildings that had been built for purpose rather than aesthetics, a perimeter that looked improvised and wasn't. Alen had estimated the camp's defensive capability from the transport vehicle before they arrived. It was better than it looked, which was probably the point.
Diego Cruz was waiting on a wooden platform above the entrance, which was where people waited when they wanted to be looked at from below. He was a large man who carried the specific kind of weight that came from thirty years of work rather than exercise, and he had the eyes of someone who had made most of the mistakes worth making and had stopped finding new ones interesting.
He looked at Alen for a long time without saying anything.
"Mateo cries about you," Diego said finally. His Spanish-accented English came out rough and deliberate, like gravel through a sieve. "The angel who saved his family. I don't believe in angels."
"That's fine," Alen said. "I'm not applying to be one."
A beat. Diego came down from the platform.
"My brother says you want the Wolf on your shoulder. A record that gets you into the American PMC." He circled Alen slowly, the way experienced men circled things they were deciding about. "Blue Umbrella doesn't want soldiers. They want operators with documented biohazard field experience. My people have that. You want to borrow it."
"I want to earn it," Alen said.
Diego stopped in front of him. "There's a difference between saying that and meaning it."
"I know."
Diego was quiet for another moment. Then: "Two weeks. You run with Alpha team. You eat what they eat. You train how they train. If you lag, I leave you on the ridge. If you quit, I call Mateo and tell him his angel is made of paper." He looked at him steadily. "If you don't lag and don't quit, you carry the brand and you get the record. But you earn it."
"When do I start?" Alen asked.
"You started when you got off the transport," Diego said. He turned back toward the compound. "Come on. Alpha team is running the eastern ridge. You're already behind."
END OF CHAPTER FIFTY
Chapter Fifty-One follows...