CHAPTER 6: Back To Basics

　　"No sir, I don`t think that is a good idea at all." & "Yes sir, I understand that, but how can you think this is a good idea after watching the camera footage from last night? He was clearly reliving an old mission, whether he wants to admit it or not. There is no way that it was just a dream! Look at the neuro activity that is recorded during that&"

　　I don`t think it was Brian`s intention for me to overhear his conversation, but I happily tuned in and listened to his side of it. He kept himself off to the far corner of the room, but the hardened floor and walls still carried his deep Irish voice over them clear enough for me to hear.

　　"If you thought he was a liability being in a coma, than you might as well consider him one now. Because there is no telling how his body will react or take to the training regiment so soon after coming out of&"

　　Brian was visibly shaken over the information that he was being told. He was struggling to contain his body language as he turned about, but finally ended his call. "Fine& I`m just happy that if shit goes wrong, it won`t be my name on the memorandum as to what caused this all to fail." Brian slid his digital device back into his pocket and approached me with a slight shake in his head.

　　"Mr. Larsen wants me to get you down to training right away. He is saying that we`ve already lost a lot of money having you lay around for over a year and now our goal is to get you back to mission ready status as soon as possible. I am trying to coordinate with Bill and Jack to see which one can get you in to do a skills assessment as soon as possible. It doesn`t look like Jack can get you in, but Bill thinks he can rearrange the schedule to fit you in."

　　"Damn& no need for training wheels when you can just upgrade to a dirt bike!"

　　"No& no dirt bikes or anything motorized for you at least for the next few days& and." Brian stood up and leaned over towards me and pointed his finger right in between my eyes, "Take it easy down there." I looked down at my crotch only to be scolded yet again, "Not there you moron. I mean on the mats. We don`t know how sensitive your Neurochip is at the moment, and we really need you to take it easy and make sure everything is stable before you start re-engaging and getting aggressive with combatives."

　　"Sure, thing mom& now can we please get fucking going?" I quipped.

　　Brian walked me down through a corridor of hallways and sub-basement areas. The entire place started to get a rough and gritty vibe to it. The upstairs portion certainly felt like a laboratory, medical, and tech start up feel. The kind of place where nerd junkies loved to walk around and talk about barbeque sauce.

　　The deeper down we went, however, the more it smelled like a dirty locker room mixed with a 1980`s weight room. A place where the walls are washed with sweat and the floors with blood. It gave me the feeling that the only way you were allowed to leave, was if you earned the right to leave. The entire vibe I sensed was one where the access code to get into the basement was a fucking attitude ready to beat the ever-living shit out of someone. If you didn`t have bruises, sore muscle, or scratches on you, then you probably weren`t going hard enough.

　　"So who is that Larsen guy you referred to upstairs?" I asked as we continued the facility tour.

　　Brian turned sideways to me as we walked. "Mr. Garry Larsen. He is the director of our Scalpel station here in Salem, Oregon. You already met him. He was with Samantha when you were first waking up."

　　I nodded, "Got it. That fucking guy."

　　"Trust me, the feeling is mutual with him. You haven`t really rubbed him the right way, so& might be best to not push your boundaries." Brian smiled back at me, but it wasn`t a happy smile, more like one of those warning smiles of, this didn`t end well last time, so don`t do it again. The only problem was, I didn`t know what, it, was in reference to. I didn`t press the matter any further.

　　"So why people keep referring to me as B2?" I asked in order to change the subject.

　　"Well, B2 rolls off the tongue just a little bit easier than Bloodbath." Brain said with a huff.

　　"How in the world did that get associated with me?"

　　"Let`s just say it was one of your first missions with us. We asked you to use stealth. You certainly chose to forget that request that night."

　　"So I`m now forever known as Bloodbath, or B2?" I asked.

　　"I`ll never see Ecuador the same." Brian replied.

　　We turned the corner to see a sign mounted above the door frame as we started to enter the training room. DON`T BE A BITCH!` was clearly printed on it. I couldn`t stop the smile from forming on my face, Fuck yes! I thought. I reached up and slapped the palm of my hand on the sign. A nice audible crack let out as the plastic bounced just slightly off the concrete wall.

　　The hardened cement formed the lower portion of the structure I now found myself within. A hard rubber wrestling mat was covering the room`s floor, corner to corner with not a single inch of the surface being missed. The mat was dark navy blue in color with white tape markings placed all over in random locations and positions. Punching bags, tossing, and grappling dummies were scattered throughout the room, and even some type of custom workout items which I had never seen before.

　　"I`m surprised there isn`t a wing chun dummy in here to practice on." I chuckled.

　　I thought I had made my statement quiet enough as we entered. But as the large mountain size of a man walked through a doorway at the other end of the room and walked towards me. I realized I was wrong.

　　"The only dummy in the room is you, asshole!" He snapped back.

　　A traditional Jui Jitsu Gi was wrapped around him. A charcoal grey color with darker grey pants. A black belt with red, blue, green, white, silver, and gold camouflage colored pattern strips, all sown around the tip end of the black belt. His hands were clasped around his black belt as his bare feet slowly rolled off the matt floor. The weird sound skin does when it comes in and out of contact with a polyethylene foam surface followed him. A light goatee on his face with a semi long fringed haircut as his dark brown eyes glared back at me with a strong intensity as he leaned in.

　　His hands came up and surprised me as he palm slapped my chest with a loud audible pop. The force pushed me somewhat back and slightly off balance. As quickly as he had practically pushed me backwards, his hands latched onto the medical gown I was wearing, pulled me back and directly into him. His large arms wrapping around me in a deep embracing hug.

　　"About time you woke up fucker! Was worried about you brother!" He said.

　　I must have had a confused expression as all of this took place, due to the cheesy grin that was now on Brian`s face. There was no doubt in my mind that this large figure could clearly kick my ass from one side of the training room to the other. The impression I also had was that this individual could accomplish such a feet without even breaking a sweat. I returned the hug lightly on the man who had entered my personal bubble space. Ending the embrace with a small pat on his back, compared to the bear hug he had given me.

　　"Thanks& I am kinda glad the lights came back on too& you know, upstairs and all." He took a step back and gave me a little bit more room. "Bill right?" I guessed.

　　He looked at Brian and then turned back to me, "Yeah& Bill Cox... I have been your combatives` instructor for Scalpel since day one. Do you not remember?"

　　"Only cocks I know is this massive one I carry around with me." I reached down and grabbed my crotch with a slight chuckle.

　　Bill`s deadpan expression came over his face and I caught Brian`s reaction out of the corner of my eye as he grabbed hold of his face. Brian lifted his head and just looked directly up towards the ceiling. He lowered his head back towards Bill as he then reached into his pocket and produced a small bottle of what appeared to be aspirin. He slammed a few small pills down in a single gulp.

　　"You know Bill& every time B2 comes back to HQ, I am reminded that we had the opportunity to select that Canadian chick instead of him and we didn`t do it." Brian let out a sigh as he finished returning the pill bottle into his pocket. He brought his hands onto his hips as he shook his head back and forth in disappointment.

　　Bill leaned his head towards Brian, "Kaitlin, wasn`t it?"

　　Brian nodded his head in a rapid succession, "Yup! Yup& Miss Kaitlin& really wish we had snatched her up when we had the chance."

　　Bill scrunched his face with a smug look, "Yeah she had class you know, carried herself well, actually seemed to take things, oh I dunno& seriously, right?"

　　"Yeah, that right there&" Brian lifted his hand off his hip and pointed at Bill, "That is exactly how I would have put it too."

　　"Oh, what-the-fuck-ever boys! You know I am only joking." I said as I interrupted them with my own smug expression.

　　Bill turned back towards me let out a long breath, "Well you really must not remember me, cause you told the same stupid joke last time we met."

　　"Shit, I did?" I asked.

　　"Yup&" Bill confirmed.

　　"Well what was the end result last time I said it?"

　　"I threw you through that wall&" Bill nodded his head, directing my attention to what was behind me.

　　I turned my head around and looked over, I could make out the rough outline of where they had patched up some dry wall. "I thought this area was all concrete?" I questioned.

　　"Most of it is yes, except that wall& that is the small storage closet& Wanna see it again?" Bill lifted his eyebrows with a mischievous smirk on his face. He cracked his knuckles and brought them up in front of his waist.

　　"No& I`m fine. I don`t need a grand tour or anything." I outstretched my arm in protest towards Bill`s devious thought, hoping it would help calm him down from my rude joke.

　　Brian had returned to dancing his thumbs all around digital device in his hands. He lifted his head back up, "Right& I need to get back upstairs. Got to run some more diagnostics and start prepping things for later in the week. That is, if everything should start to come back in order. Bill, please& take it easy on him& his chip is showing that he was reset all the way back to level 1." Brian raised his eyebrows with a furled lip. He emphasized with a stern and serious tone in his voice as he departed the room.

　　Bill waved to Brian even though his back was now turned to us, "Alright Brian, good to see you brother." Bill shifted his attention to me, "Level 1! All over again? That sucks man, I`m sorry to hear that."

　　"Thanks. It certainly sucks major donkey dick& I literally have no fucking clue what any of this stuff is& Everyone seems to know everything about me, but I know absolutely nothing about them& it`s a weird feeling. You get it?"

　　Bill slightly smiled, "I get it& well, best way to get past Level 1 is to get started." Bill pointed to the doorway he had originally entered through, "Head through the doorway, first door on your left, you`ll find the locker room. Fifth locker on the right is yours, your backup gi should be hanging up in there." I hesitated and Bill cocked his head and looked at me with a narrow gaze. "Is& something wrong?"

　　I titled my head towards the main entrance, "Well& not that I don`t wanna roll, cause, I am always down for that& but you know, Brian wanted me to take it easy."

　　Bill quickly crossed his arms, "Did you happen to see a sign above the doorway to the dojo?"

　　I nodded, "Sure did."

　　"Do you remember what the sign says?"

　　I had a disgruntled expression come over my face as I realized I had fallen for it. I rolled my eyes and exhaled. My hands came to a rest on my hips.

　　Bill smiled broadly, "Pretty sure that Kaitlin chick isn`t being as big of a baby-back-bitch as you are being right now!"

　　I gritted my teeth and let out a long exhale, "Alright& alright big guy& I see how it`s going to be&" I started to walk off towards the locker room and pointed back at Bill, "Don`t go running off now."

　　I walked into the locker room but practically went reeling backwards as the stench hit me. "Shit on a cracker! That is a fucking locker room alright." The smell of body odor and dirty laundry seemed to have been infused into the pores of the concrete as it reeked to high heaven. My sinus`s now in agony from the torment of the stench contained within it. "Fuck! It`s like someone shoved a lemon, an onion, a jar of peanut butter, and hard-boiled eggs up a baby`s butthole and then had it explode a volcanic amount of shit all over this place! what the literal fuck Bill?" I yelled out of the locker room.

　　It was merely a second later that I heard him yell back, "Stop being a bitch!"

　　I found my locker with my name printed on a label across the top. There was some random stickers plastered all over it. Undoing the metal latch, I nodded in surprise as he was right. I had a gi hanging up and a few small containers of what appeared to be expired workout supplements and ointments for sore muscle relief.

　　I tossed the hospital gown into the locker and slammed the door shut. The music started to bump and echo off the walls as I shoved the locker room door open and proceeded back out onto the training mats. "Crazy Train" by Ozzy Osbourne began blaring over a set of speakers. It certainly started to set the tone for the training session as Bill motioned for me to join him over at one of the punching bags. "Hit the bag." He instructed.

　　I clenched my hand into a balled fist and squared up on the target as I had been taught from my military days. One of the few flashback moments my mind allowed me to recall at that point. I rotated my hips as I brought my right hand forward and hit the punching bag head on. Bill grabbed the back of the punching bag as it started to swing downward from my strike.

　　"Good& now don`t do that again." A shocked expression came over my face. Bill immediately took notice of it and smirked, "Damn it`s like someone re-winded the video tape and pushed play all over again."

　　"Well, that is one way to show your age, old man." I joked.

　　"That`s one& keep it up and you`ll know what dry wall feels like." He smiled.

　　I crossed my arms and then watched Bill intently as he moved over and stood side by side to my position as he then continued his instruction. "There is nothing wrong with your stance. You did everything right and was textbook in that regard. However, it is actually your hand and your striking, that is what we need to change and relearn all over again." Bill made a few slight adjustments as he ensured his stance was square and firmly placed exactly how he wanted it to be. "You struck the dummy with a closed fist; you will no longer utilize a closed fist when striking your opponent. Regardless of what happens. Understand?" I could literally feel the baffled look come over my face.

　　Though I had no memory of what I had already undergone with Scalpel, what Bill was telling me to do was go against all the other training I had received before scalpel that I could now vaguely recall. Bill however sternly repeated himself, "Understand?" I finally conceded and gave him a nod in return.

　　"There are primarily two ways we strike in melee combat, open palm, and elbow strikes. As you move in to strike your opponent, you come in and immediately strike, ensuring you make direct impact with the palm of your hand, and repeat." Bill stood in a ready stance, his left leg was slightly in front of the other, while his left hand and shoulder matched the same slight angle.Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

　　Bill rotated his hips forwards as he brought his right shoulder forward and reached his right arm out just like you would a jab punch. His palm was open and he slowly made contact with the punching dummy and highlighted the palm of the hand striking directly onto the surface of the dummy. He pressed his force into the target before he retracted the strike and returned to his starting position.

　　Bill performed the movement a few more times in this slow-motion pattern, and as he moved, he continued. "We teach open palm, because everything revolves around the opportunity to control. I want to have the ability to control my targets movements& With an open palm strike directly into ones` chest, I not only land a blow to their sternum, but I also now, can immediately afterwards grab hold of their clothing and have interior control. This now allows me to defensively keep them from gaining interior control over me for grappling. Additionally, by controlling this position, I am able to thwart any effort the target has from generating more devastating blows."

　　Bill stopped the striking motion and then turned towards me, I followed his example as we now faced each other, our ready stances naturally complementing the others. We ever so slightly bobbed and rocked within our stances to keep our muscles loose and from stiffening up within the position. Bill then slowly brought his left hand forward, grabbed hold of my gi and clasped on tightly.

　　"Okay& I just struck you hard with the palm strike, and now have taken control of your ability to either distance yourself from me or enabling you to penetrate into my guarded position. Now try to strike." I did my best to move and perform as he instructed me to, and even though I had training, I had never had a hand directly positioned and firmly latched onto me in this manner. I tried to swing and generate a more powerful blow. Every time I started to twist my hips to propel and utilize momentum, Bill would jostle me backwards, or bring me forward with a mighty jolt, completely knocking me off balance.

　　It was frustrating as fuck. I tried to get in a few swings, but then Bill would drop down into a squat position. He not only ducked and dodged my swings as if I had telegraphed them four hours before their arrival, but Bill also seemed completely aware of every move I was about to make before I even started making them. I was nowhere up to par with even coming close to connecting a strike on him. Bill then graciously told me to pause, but started his next progression within the lesson. "I have you with this grip right?" He said as he tightly balled my gi in his clenched grasp.

　　"Yeah&" I replied.

　　"Okay, now, I am going to start bringing in multiple palm strikes and transition them into elbow blows. I`ll go slow so you can see." Bill then released my gi and started all over from the beginning.

　　His first palm strike landing directly on my chest as it previously had. His left hand latched onto my gi and began to lightly tug at me and pull me into him. At the same time, his right palm came up and glided over my left arm and shoulder. He stopped his palm roughly a half inch away from my face so I could see where he would have hit if it was a full-on brawl. He brought his hand back a couple of inches and then brought it back close to my face.

　　In one fluid motion he twisted just slightly enough, and I saw his right hand turn back towards him. I continued to watch as the slight tug from his left hand helped him as he brought his right elbow directly in line with the side of my head and temple. He, once again, stopped the impact just barely around my face as he paused before he returned me to the starting position.

　　"I come in" Bill said as he stepped forward with his left leg. Nudging his left leg directly next to my left side, he tilted down and lowered his left shoulder inwards towards my obliques. His right hand was up and was all the way across his face, with the palm facing away from him in the appearance of a blocking position. "I protect my face from a potential strike that I may have missed."

　　His left palm lightly tapped my ribs next, then snapped back. As it retracted his left hand, he twisted it in a rotating motion, grabbing hold of the bottom side of my gi sleeve and began to lightly tug on me. He simultaneously brought his right palm in and tapped against my exposed obliques as the position was stretching me out and exposing the area.

　　He simulated a rapid three strikes to the obliques as he then rapidly stood up, brought his right elbow directly across with a simulated side strike to my temple. He continued his motion which was with the twisting of his hips. His elbow and body in a full twist which was also still tugging away at my gi sleeve and sending me forward.

　　I was than taken by surprise as in an instant reversal, felt Bill`s hand cup back and clasp onto my face. His right pinky cupping just underneath my nose and his hand gently forced my head backwards and up at an angle. He was perfect in balancing out a firm sensation, yet still a gentle nudge to which there wasn`t serious pain. I felt something gently impact my abdominal area, which brought my body naturally surging forwards. My body crashing down and towards the ground, but in a controlled movement as Bill`s hands guided me onto the mat.

　　As soon as I felt my body impact upon the mat, I looked up and saw that Bill was in a full mount position, his legs straddling just above my waist. I had my full weight on my right shoulder which was pinning my right arm onto the mat, directly exposing my face and head.

　　Bill had trapped my left arm under his left armpit as he squeezed it tight. I then watched as Bill started raining down simulated elbow strikes which were all lightly tapping against my head and continued to knock me hard enough that it was really fucking annoying.

　　I couldn`t help it though, "That is fucking nice." I said with a gritty smile on my face. "I could really get used to that move."

　　Bill smiled at me and then began to work back towards his feet, helping me up with an extended hand as we both reset to the starting position. "Alright, so now, open palm not only allows you to strike, but instantly places you closer towards implementing, a monkey grip and palm control."

　　Bill brought his right arm down with aggressive speed and completely rocked my left forearm. His hand clasping on with the strength of a fucking vice as his power crushed down even harder as my mind cried out, holy fuck! He then started to jolt and jostle my arm around and my body swayed all over the place, leaving me feeling like a fucking rag doll. My balance was like a brand-new kid trying to learn how to stand on a fucking skateboard.

　　Bill then tilted my arm up at an angle, and popped my left triceps muscle a good three times. The effect of the blunt strikes instantly made my arm feel numb and immobilized as the blows rattled my arm to its core. He then twisted and spun, sending me into a rapid tailspin. My left arm being pulled sent my body in motion, as I twirled around the room. I finally crashed into the nearby wall. My body crashing upon the cushioned mat surface, but immediately found Bills` left elbow directly in my face. His arm tapped the side of my cheek as his body weight pressed me firmly against the wall and made it extremely difficult to move. "That is not a pleasant feeling& just image if it had been a full force blow." He said.

　　"You know... I was thinking the same damn thing." I replied as he had pressed his forearm directly across my face and smooshed my head further back and into the wall a tiny bit more.

　　Bill finally let go of me and walked me over towards the punching dummy. "Okay, so now you are understanding the concepts, it`s now time for you to start practicing your strikes and rebuilding the muscle-memory connections within your neurological network."

　　Bill went over the movements once again, and completed four separate repetition patterns he wanted me to practice performing on the heavy bag. "Any questions?" He asked me.

　　I simply shook my head in response as I readied myself to begin. Just before I started, however, I heard an audible noise. I paused for a moment and looked around as it didn`t seem to come from the speakers where Bill had been playing music, but& at the same time, it was loud enough that I felt I should have been able to home in on the source.

　　Bill looked at me with a pondering look, "What is it?"

　　"Did you hear something?" I asked.

　　His eyes widened, blinking rapidly as if I was going crazy. "Music& I hear music, and you not hitting the bag..."

　　Fair point. I turned and started pounding away on the bag. I had no track of time, but that didn`t seem to matter as Bill continued to watch me like a hawk. He critiqued any little discrepancy he saw in my stance, form, or recovery& everything was under scrutiny. He did allow me to slowly progress though and didn`t waste my time with continuing repetition for the sake of tradition.

　　If he felt I was good, locked in on the technique, then he would guide my progression further. "Faster& Harder& Too fast& Slow down& Adjust your wrist." In a sort of fucked up perceptional way, his commands almost sounded like a director overseeing the filming of a porno& "Faster, faster, harder, harder, oh yes just like that!" & I must have made a smirk on my face, because the hawk eyes caught on, and forced me to proclaim what caused the sarcastic expression I now had.

　　Before I knew it, I had sweat pouring down my face like the North Silver Falls. The same way the waters surged to life right after a spring rain had fallen in the mountains above the State Park. I was doing burpee`s to the point where my form looked like a ball of pizza dough being launched into the air and falling flat with a blubbering thud upon the cutting board resting on the kitchen counter.

　　"Recover" Bill said. I struggled to get back to my feet and stand there. My gi was soaked in sweat and I was dying of thirst. "I think that will be all for today." He finished.

　　As soon as he said we were complete, I could have sworn I heard the audible noise. But again, I was pretty sure the sound wasn`t coming out of the stereo speakers. Bill tilted his head at me as he saw me looking all around. Still working to discovery the mystery that was truly irritating the fuck out of me.

　　"What are you doing B2?" He asked with a shrug.

　　"I`m trying to figure out what the fuck I am hearing."

　　Bill shook his head and crossed his arms in front of his chest as he let out a sigh and spoke in a fatherly tone. He made it sound like he was questioning his ten-year-old son about where exactly he had placed his homework. "What does the noise sound like?"

　　"I dunno& some kind of noise, like a& computer or phone notification makes." My hand was rolling in a rotation as I tried to describe it.

　　"Do you have your phone on you?" He asked.

　　I glared back at him with a narrowed gaze and the kind of pissed off expression a Karen-Soccer-Mom gives to the retail store manager when they won`t take back her items, not having her receipt. "Does it look like I have my phone on me?"

　　"Wait&" Bill said as he narrowed his eyes and tapped his finger on his chin, "How did you know you were at level 1?"

　　"The display thingy said so."

　　"The neurochip display within your head, or vision& whatever it is?"

　　"Yeah. That fucking thing." I snapped my fingers and pointed at him as soon as he said it.

　　Bill lifted his fingers off his chin and then pointed towards me, "Okay& is there anything in the corner of your vision? It might be subtle and even mostly transparent. I guess that would all be dependent on what the reset settings were on your visual display interface. But& it would be in the corner of your vision where the three-dot thing appeared. Do you see anything there?"

　　"Holy shit!" My mouth opened slightly as I was just able to make out two subtle icons. I hadn`t really messed with the main icon earlier and didn`t pay much attention to it. I also was more intently focused on Bill`s training session and completely forgot to notice it.

　　Now, however, as I narrowed in on its` presence. My mind being aware of it again, the more it seemed present and visible, rather than faded and transparent. "Yeah& I see the main icon, and then directly to the left of the icon is this upward arrow looking thing."

　　[^] | [:::]

　　"That sounds like your achievement icon, try to mentally click on it." Bill was curiously pointing his finger at me now. He looked as if his natural instinct to find a solution was driving him to assist in my completion of the current issue.

　　It took me a few minutes to mentally get my head to do what& well& my head wanted it to do. But it was certainly far easier than the first time Brian had me do it. I eventually was able to finally click on the box and noticed a slight animation activate. The icon appeared as if it had been pressed downward as it depressed itself and then returned to normal.

　　My eyes widened as the colored boxes that filled my view. The animation and movement of their arrival practically caused me to fall backwards. Thankfully Bill lunged forward and grabbed hold of my shoulders, helping me stay vertical and present within my current surroundings. "What the fucking hell! That shit scared the living daylights out of me." I told Bill what had happened and then read off what each box said.

　　\SKILL ACHIEVED: MELEE - LEVEL 1/

　　\SKILL ACHIEVED: COMBATIVES - LEVEL 1/

　　\SKILL ACHIEVED: COMBATIVE THEORY - LEVEL 1/

　　"Nice! You`re already back towards rebuilding the skill levels you`ve lost!" Bill said with excitement radiating in his voice.

　　A new audible noise played, and now after hearing it and talking with Bill, I was able to realize that the noise itself was being played within my head. Ehhh, I don`t know if I like this little effect& I thought to myself. The two red boxes started to zoom out at a fast pace, which did not help my situation as two new boxes came flying in and set my vertigo swirling once again in a storm. I could feel a headache start to rise up within my mind and my vision started to strain my equilibrium as I was struggling to balance what was in my visual through the Neurochip, and what was actually beyond it.

　　"This whole activity of notification boxes zooming in and out of my vision is really going to take some getting used to!" I said to Bill as I reached up and grabbed hold of my stomach. I started to feel queasy and the need to vomit from the aftereffects. I then read off what the two new boxes read. "Any ideas?"

　　"I got nothing B2, that is a Brian question honestly& I don`t do the brain chip stuff." Bill had let go of my shoulder to let me lean over.

　　"It`s asking me if I want to accept it or not, what do you think?"

　　"Well& I don`t think it will harm anything& I guess it`s worth a shot, but it is your decision brother& this is your head we`re talking about here& no one else`s."

　　He had a fair point, and I appreciated his thoughts and honesty regarding the matter. But he was right& this was my decision to make and mine alone. Fuck what scalpel wanted, it`s my brain, my neurochip and my decision. Come on Brittany Spears, hit me baby one more time! I called out within my mind as I then mentally worked to click the button within my vision and thought, yes`. As soon as I was able to complete the task the green boxes follow suit and zoomed out of my view with three new red boxes arriving to show me an instant upgrade to Level 2.

　　\SKILL ACHIEVED: MELEE - LEVEL 2/

　　\SKILL ACHIEVED: COMBATIVES - LEVEL 2/

　　\SKILL ACHIEVED: COMBATIVE THEORY - LEVEL 2/

　　"Holy shit!" I could tell my eyes were widened in surprise at what had just taken place.

　　"What is it B2?" Bill asked me.

　　"I mentally clicked that button thing& choosing yes& It now says I`ve achieved Level 2& like& fucking instantly!"

　　"Wow& that is a serious boost, and an awesome way to skip ahead in your progression and get back out in the field, like& hella quick!"

　　"No shit, right?" I brought my hand up and scratched my head, still pissed up that my gorgeous hair was missing. If only my hair could grow back as quick as these skills are ranking up. I thought.

　　"Are you going to get a proficiency bonus for all your skills that you start to work on and rebuild?"

　　A blank stare came over my face as I then slowly turned and faced Bill, "How the fuck should I know? I don`t know who anyone is, or how anything works, remember?"

　　"Well& excuse me for being excited for you, & prick!" A smug smile on Bills face appeared as I shook my head.

　　{&} | [:::]

　　As soon as Bill had finished his comeback, I noticed a new icon appear in my vision. I mentally clicked on the icon to see a small text message appear as the animation it utilized looked like an old typewriter or dos computer screen interface.

　　"B2, it`s Brian, Jack was able to open a spot for you at the shooting range. Have Bill escort you over there when you`re done. Thnx"

　　I told Bill what Brian`s text message said, and the two of us started to walk down the basement hallways after I changed into a spare set of clothes that were also within my locker. A pair of tactical pants and a plain black T-shirt with some simple black tactical boots.

　　Bill pointed up towards the wall and informed me how the basement system had a color line guidance system. I looked up to where he had pointed and noticed the different colored lines which also had arrows inlayed to point towards a specific direction. I noticed the green line running down in one inch spacing and then as we walked past a hallway, I saw how green was painted around the corner and proceeded to run down the hallway with the arrows continuing to guide and pointed that direction.

　　"Supply warehouse is down that way. We`re following the black line." He informed.

　　The black line was painted directly below the green with one-inch spacing underneath it as well. I could now see that it showed we would be turning to the left at the next hallway. The conversation with Bill was nice, for being this mountain man figure, his voice was calm and mellow. Outside of the dojo he was warm and inviting with a lot of reassurance towards having no doubt I`d be back in the field in no time.

　　By the end of the walk Bill started talking to me about recent books he had been reading, how he was starting a new weapon build on an semi-auto rifle platform, and what was new with his family. There was still a two-sided feeling I had within me. One side where it was nice to be awakened and on day one picking up where I had left off. Instantly thrown back into the grind of things.

　　However, it still felt a little odd to have people who felt like strangers to me, just open up with a world of updates regarding their life, yet he seemed completely fine in sharing. It was only a little further down the hallway until my eyes saw the entrance to the shooting range a little further down.

　　"Jack is right there. I`ll break off here and head back to the mats, I need to write up my training report for what we did today and take care of some other stuff. Tell Jack I said hi."

　　"You have to write up training reports on what we did?" I asked.

　　Bill huffed out, "Yeah! I have to write reports on everything& Sucks sometimes, but& it is a part of life. Take it easy brother, I`ll probably see you tomorrow." Bill waved as he turned and walked away.

　　I returned his wave and watched him walk down the hallway for a moment.

　　My mind shifted gears and the scent of freshly spent gun powder greeted me. As I stood there a memory flashed within my mindscape and I was back in the Air Force and firing M-4 carbines. A smile appeared on my face at having a new memory return, but my attention was quickly turned back to what lay ahead of me. I didn`t delay any longer as I stepped forward and entered into the shrine of lead.