All of these skills were expanded on and more; each candidate went through fitness sessions,
had basic medical training, and learned several different fighting styles, and learned to rappel,
rock climb, Jet Ski, sky dive, SCUBA dive and basic survival skills. Being one such candidate,
at the end of a 5-year training period, John Fletcher could assemble and disassemble 90% of
firearms in fewer than 5 minutes. He could pin most UFC fighters, hack a supercomputer and live
in most hostile terrains away from civilization for as long as he wanted.
Undoubtedly, He was an impressive candidate. One of the best, and now, for his big
assessment, he was put on a 6 – month long scavenger hunt to retrieve an artifact, somewhere in
the tropical country of Vietnam.
While John was taking shelter under a rocky outcrop, back at A.B.C.O.T. Headquarters, Jack
Ricer, one of the minds at the bureau, was sitting at a computer, enjoying a doughnut with a
creamy cup of coffee. He was John’s tracker; in charge of keeping track of where John was and
making sure that he didn’t… well, die. Up until now, Jack had been able to kick up his feet and
relax. With John being a star candidate, he had performed flawlessly. The lazy Mr. Ricer was lucky
enough to end up with him so that all he had to do was tell the contacts when to expect John.
Right now, all Jack had to do was check up on the candidate as company protocol dictated.
He flipped open the lid of his Laptop and hit typed locate into the command box. A map display
flipped up and a yellow box appeared on the screen. Jack smiled. The tracking devices implanted
in the candidates’ wrists had always fascinated him. He smiled and reclined on the old leather
desk chair. John was merely 6 km from the monastery; what could possibly go wrong?
Chapter 3
The barrel of John’s rifle glowed red hot, as the bullet left its cartridge and sliced through the
air. It hit the jackrabbit straight behind the eye. It drilled through its temple like a red-hot poker
through snow. Death was immediate. The poor animal didn’t feel a thing. Soon, as night settled
in, John was sitting in front of a cozy fire. The rabbit was cooking on a rack over the fire, and
John meanwhile, was plotting the last 10 km trek of the next day.
He sighed, and lay back on the thick down sleeping bag. The desert was beautiful at night.
The night sky, an obsidian expanse, encrusted with diamonds of varying size and brightness.
A thin blanket of snow covered the plateau. A giant stage with animal actors: Leopards and
wolves galloped across the plateau stretched out before him, dancing with the gazelles. An ibex
or two leaping from boulder to boulder, and one solitary Gobi bear, lumbering along the expanse,
heedless of the world around him.
John closed his eyes. The morn would take him to the monastery, and one step closer to the end.
Jack couldn’t believe his ears. Shut down Project: PEACEKEEPER? Were they insane? John
was still out there! Along with other project candidates! “ The government has refused to continue
funding the project anymore,” said Henry Brian, the head of the research and development
department in A.B.C.O.T. He reached into a desk drawer, and pulled out a file. “All the information
is right here. You have until the rest of the week, to clean up this mess. Abort the current
candidate’s training.”
* * *
