The pit was a hole in the ground, located in the obstacle course, approximately twelve feet around and six feet deep. The troops had amassed in formation around it when Powers arrived with two other instructors.
Powers’s question, “Who started the argument?” was answered by silence. “All right, then!” he yelled. “This is what’s going to happen. Cobra and Condor are going to get into the pit and do a little dance. Whoever’s left standing and able to get out of the pit on his own two legs will join the rest of you ladies for a ten-mile run. The one who loses goes home. Is that clear?”
In complete unison, the recruits answered, “Yes, sir!”
“The only rule is, there are no rules,” Powers said, ordering Cobra and Condor into the pit. As Morgan jumped in, he noticed that the lace on his left boot was untied, but as he leaned over to tie it, Condor moved in and threw a kick to Morgan’s head. He rolled away and regained his footing, assuming a boxer’s position.
“I’m going to kick your ass and send you home!” the much taller and heavier Condor taunted.
“You’ve got a big mouth. Got the skills to back it up?” Morgan grinned, analyzing Condor’s movements, guessing correctly that the larger, slower man would come at him straight on, hoping to back Cobra into losing his balance. When Condor charged, at the last second Morgan moved to Condor’s left. As he swung around, Morgan hit him with a powerful uppercut, snapping Condor’s head back, followed by a right cross to the center of his forehead.
As Condor went down, Morgan landed a roundhouse kick to the side of Condor’s head, knocking him unconscious. The silence was deafening.
Concerned he had seriously injured him, Morgan started toward Condor, only to hear Powers yell, “Cobra! Out of the pit! You and the rest of the ladies owe me ten miles.”
Morgan got a sick feeling in his stomach when he was summoned to Powers’s office first thing the next morning.
“Enter,” Powers said to Morgan’s knock at the screen door. “Have a seat,” he said.
Morgan had a feeling he was in deep shit and was about to say something, to try to avoid being thrown out of training, when Powers began to speak.
“Cobra, I’ve been watching you closely ever since I misjudged you on the day you arrived here. What I have come to realize is that you have all the qualities to be a great operative. You’re confident, have great instincts, are smart and tough, both mentally and physically. You have great focus and are an exceptional marksman. You keep your cool and have the respect of all the men you work with. You may be the best I’ve ever seen, except for me,” he laughed.
Then he explained why he had summoned Morgan, “We’re partnering up the men, and I want you to have the first pick,” he said.
Morgan felt a sigh of relief within, but without showing emotion and without hesitation, he said, “Cougar. That’s who I want as my partner.”
Powers gave a half grin and asked, “Why Cougar?”
“I’ve felt a connection with him since the day we first met. He’s smart and loyal. He can fly both a helicopter and a plane, speaks several languages, knows when to keep his mouth shut, and even knows how to cook. My gut tells me I can trust him with my life.”
“Okay. It’s done. Head on back to the classroom.”
“Sir. Permission to speak freely?” Morgan asked. To Powers’s nod, Morgan asked, “Is Condor okay?”
Powers’s tone warmed as he said, “You have the qualities of a true leader, concerned about one of your fellow trainees. Even though we both know he is a complete asshole. He’s going to be fine, apart from taking a beating he’s going to remember for the rest of his life.”
CHAPTER 35
Together, Morgan and Conley made it through training at The Farm, two of the twelve recruits who did out of the ninety-nine who started in the program. The others couldn’t hold up to the mental strain and the physical punishment and washed out.
Those who remained graduated in the fall. The ceremony was understated and without fanfare, but none was necessary. Every single one of the recruits standing there together knew that they had accomplished something few others could.
“Gentlemen,” said Powers, standing at the podium in The Farm’s single lecture hall, “you have just completed the finest training this country has to offer.” He had notes on the lectern, but he spoke with the fluidity of a well-rehearsed speaker. “The skills we have taught you make you powerful, but they cannot grant you the virtues that must guide you in your service to your nation—responsibility, honor, patriotism. But above all, you will need unwavering loyalty. You, gentlemen, are special. The work you do will be crucial to maintaining America’s stature as the greatest country in the world.”