The man turned to look briefly at the boy who had spoke without reason. His beady eyes evaluated him, as though gauging the freshness of a fish in the market before he turned and continued with the uphill march, assuming that one of the other instructors would answer the girl. When they did not, he simply ignored that fact.Â<br/><br/>Upon reaching the campsite, they halted. The instructor, the one wearing a cap spoke the man. The man nodded and left for the Â building at the furthest left.Â<br/><br/>Cap was fit, though not as well-built as the Sergeant, he clasped his hands behind his back, "Now, you may still be wondering what the flying fuck is going on. You have been chosen by the government for a new breed of soldiers, and of course, aid certain researching facilities. By now, your parents would have realized you were... taken away. The hard truth is that you will not see them, not in the discernible future. You are currently non-existent. This program is called Project Black Lightning. You are at present, assets of the US, nothing more than numbers." He pointed to area around them, beyond the walls and at the mountainous regions around the camp, "You will be taking part in program zero-zero-three-zero-four. This is where you will train, for the next five weeks, this will be home for you. After that, you will take part in a scenario, with the others. Trust me when I say that the training the best part of the program."<br/><br/>They were directed to an unfurnished building to collect their uniforms and other equipment from an unsmiling instructor. The uniforms were standard digi-camo, which felt rough to the skin, due to the chemicals involved in the processing. They were then split into two groups, not of boys and girls, with Cap yelling out their numbers and names.Â<br/><br/>"You are to remember your numbers as we will be addressing you as such from tomorrow onwards. All those whom I have called step over here," He pointed to the empty space to his side.Â<br/><br/>"Melody Sier, 03002<br/>Roselina Carry, 03004<br/>Drake Emberson, 03006<br/>Rayne Sayomi, 03008<br/>Kelvin Mark, 03010"<br/><br/>He paused, looking at the two distinct groups, "These are your squad and dorm mates for the week. If you don't like it, you can't send them back. Now, the ones in this group are:<br/>Dinu Zelophehad Arud, 03001<br/>Jasper Miles, 03003<br/>Spira Vanheusen, 03005<br/>Jason Rouke, 03007<br/>Marc Landing, 03009"<br/><br/>Cap began a head count and nodded, "Group A," He pointed at the second group, "And Group B, proceed to the Hall to collect your uniforms and equipment." He pointed at an unfurnished building, save a table stacked with green haversacks.Â<br/><br/>The Sergeant watched the boy, whom he now knew as Drake Emberson, the smartass of this crack team. And there were examples which needed to be set.Â<br/><br/>******<br/><br/>02 17, Tropical marshes<br/>"FIELD" team<br/><br/>The trek uphill and downhill had dug deep into the night. Or rather, morning. The ten adolescents began pitch their tents at the base of the hill, under the blazing spotlights and watchful eyes of the instructors. Dinner was long overdue and they ate silentlyÂ the rations tasting like oily sludge.Â<br/><br/>(DO NOTE: the final paragraph does not involve any of the main party.)