CHAPTER 8

2 months later…

"Alright everyone, huddle up!" Startled awake by the domineering but familiar voice of our trainer, I roll over onto my back to see everyone getting out of their bunk beds.

The yellow, full-body suit the academy had made us wear clung uncomfortably to my body, and showed off every titbit of curves my little host seems to have acquired.

Getting out of bed and feeling my body protesting every movement, I slipped my pale legs into the lace-up military boots they are also making us wear and knotted the laces neatly.

Standing with his legs braced apart is a mountain of a man, muscles outlining every single part of his body, which only made the military uniform he wore look incredibly sexy.

If he weren't too old for my host, and he wasn't a part of the fucking trainers that have tortured my mind and my body for the past month, I would be drooling all over myself right now.

I knew I'd have to undergo a field training test before I could properly be accepted as an Elite Force Warrior, but I didn't think the training program would be so hard on me considering my past. Unfortunately, my host's body is puny and weak so having to build up her muscles was a big, fucking headache. "Now listen good cubs-"

That's another thing that doesn't do well for his sex appeal, he calls us cubs. I mean, I'm well over a thousand years older than him.

"-very soon we will be landing at Washington D.C, so I want you all to refold those beds and buckle into your seats."

When no one made a move to do as he said, mostly because we just woke the fuck up, he bellowed out loud. "Move!"

And boy did we move.

There are no windows in this dungy military plane so we had to sit, buckled in by leather seatbelts that keep digging into my skin with each shaky movement has we landed not so gently might in the middle of a desolate landing strip.

Thanks to the large windshield in front that shows us just a bit of our current location, we were all able to see the dusty ghost land that lays before us.

Once the rough ride came to an end, our trainer who had sat up front with the pilot got up from his seat with a protective gas mask on his face and unlatched the heavy handle locking the door. Sliding the metal door open, we were suddenly assaulted by the capital's toxic air.

Our entrance was greeted by a dozen or so military guards with large guns, wearing M50 Airsoft Tactical protective gas masks in front of 6 large Jeeps.

The contaminated air made everyone start to cough as we raised a hand up to our faces to cover our mouth and nose while trying not to breathe in so much. Fortunately, a large duffle filled with gas masks was thrown by our feet and our trainer instructed. "Put these protective gas masks on and unbuckle up!"

No one needed to be told twice, we all hurried out of our seats and grabbed a mask like our life depended on it. Which it kind of did. I slipped on the black mask over my face and took in a deep inhale of air, securing the straps behind my head.

"Alright cubs, let's getting moving." He snapped and we grabbed our bags, everyone hurrying forward.

What poor piss manners the agency has, using big men to frighten a bunch of 18-year-olds. The one tiny upside to this exhausting situation though is the fact that while we got helped by our trainer when getting down, I had a feel of his mouth drooling muscles. And boy did they feel good.

If I'm going to be manhandled, then I'd at least like to make the best of my situation. Everyone huddled together into a straight, horizontal line while a security check was conducted on our bags and bodies. I didn't mind the body search, but I didn't love the fact that it was done by a woman.

Once the search was done at first there was nothing but silence, with 6 scared kids wondering what's to happen next. But what we sure as hell didn't expect was striping, not that I minded considering all the muscles on display. They put away their guns, pulled off their jackets to reveal tanned skin, though some, unfortunately wore an inner shirt, and pulled down their trousers to reveal dark blue fitted pants underneath.

Three dark-skinned men walked out from behind the trucks with a bunch of folded jackets and one by one, the guards collected them to wear before zipping up and placing the side button at the neck.

One of the men stepped forward and shook hands with our trainer, giving him a sharp salute. "Thank you, Commander Zack, for bringing them safely."

"Just doing my job." He nodded, then strode back into the plane after sliding the door shut.

Everyone hurriedly shuffled back and tried not to get blown away when the plane slowly rose back into the air and flew away.

The loud clearing of a throat pulled our attention back to the guards and the one who had shaken hands with our trainer spoke through his mask. "Alright boys and girls listen up!"

Well, here we go... someone who recognises us for what we are. I thought sarcastically.

"I am Warrior Ivan Black and I was sent here to escort you all to your next destination. Now I know, you must all be confused and possibly frightened, but you don't need to be. We mean you no harm, and as long as you don't step out of turn, my men and I won't feel the need to use our guns. Is that clear?"