Beyond Duties

Jordan's POV I just came out of the bathrooms after completing the morning drill at the boot camp and was headed to do my own routine without the flabbergasted trainees I had punished with grueling activities earlier. For some reason, I woke up on the wrong side of the bed and was quite grumpy, and refused to look in the mirror and check out how long my beard had grown. I know it still suits me, though, modesty aside - if not, those ladies from the female boot camp wouldn't exert efforts coming over to the armory which was a good half a kilometer away from their lounge, and blurt excuses of resting and meditating while I noisily assembled my rifle. "DI... Do you think it'd be helpful for us to carry rifles while trying yoga?" One of them waved at me unashamedly, while bending her back in such a way that her breasts were almost sticking out of her uniform. I knew she wanted me to notice, so I paid her a good sweep with teasing eyes and she looked rather pleased that I appreciated her cup C assets. "I'm afraid I can't give you proper advice, babe," I told her as I started moving out of the room, walking backwards while headed to the door to avoid breaking eye contact with the lovely woman. "I haven't met a yoga instructor before, and I wouldn't have an idea whether lifting a rifle while twisting your sexy body would be a good thing..." There you go, smooth talker. I mentally chided myself. Part of me wanted to stay in the room and enjoy the view that the girls were giving me, but I knew I would send them the wrong idea if I did. They were already starting to discreetly undress themselves due to the warmth in the room, but I bet my own badge that they were silently inviting me for something more than just a view of sultry back-bending and yoga posing. I waved them goodbye without any more of a backward glance as I stepped out of the door and jogged straight to the open field to look for some company - by this, I mean a wholesome company. It wasn't long before I stepped on the dry soil when I heard the booming voice of Franklin, shouting my name. I turned around and saw him jogging towards my direction, carrying dumbbells, but it didn't look like he was exercising at all. On the contrary, he looked like he was carrying grenades, and that he was tasked to take them to me and expect me to stop them from exploding. I stopped and waited for him until he was close enough to deliver the news. "What's up, Frank?" I asked, hands on my rifle, ready to fire at him in case he was up for some ill joke like he always does in the morning. I normally would have had the patience to put up with Frank’s pranks, but if I hadn't said it earlier, I'm not my happy self today. "I think the heavens descended on us today, Jordy boy," he began with a dramatic bodily movement, and I instinctively curled my finger on the trigger, eyes narrowed at him and awaiting more of his stupid rambling. "Hold it, don't kill me yet!" He almost laughed as he very well noticed my reaction. He raised his hands, still carrying the useless dumbbells and tried to look as seriously as he could. "You're needed at the visitor's area. Someone's looking for you." There. He said the most impossible thing that could ever happen, and I lifted my rifle to point at his head. "Jordan, I'm serious!" He shouted, not at all panicking even with my rifle muzzle pressed against his forehead. I wouldn't kill him - no, not yet. But what he said was the last thing that could ever happen in the world, and everyone in the camp knew it. I had entered the military without anyone knowing it, and even my father, rich as he was, respected my need for privacy and simply believed that I was out traveling the world wasting my own money and never conducted any search party even if I didn't get in touch with the family for a year. Even the Brigadier General doubted it at first, but after a thorough espionage, the entire military was convinced that my family had not really sent a troop to start looking for me and investigate what I was really up to. With that reason, no one on Earth is expected to visit me, or let alone look for me at the Military camp. "As the B-Gen told me, you have a visitor, Jordan," Frank repeated slowly and with emphasis, as though he was talking to someone who just had a new pair of hearing aids who might have trouble catching and stringing the words together. I looked at him with a frown and then lowered my rifle. "I'm serious, and I've already met the person." He added. "And who might that be?" I finally asked. I felt stupid for believing his words, but he never uses the B-Gen's name for a joke. "I don't think I'm in the position to tell," he said sullenly, but his face broke into a wide grin with his next words. "But she sure looks like an angel who fell from the sky!" Okay, I get it. Stupid as he was, I knew Frank had standards. If he looked like struck by lightning right now, then that "she" must be beautiful. Whoever she was. I tried to rack my brain for some woman who would have the audacity to look for me in the Military - of all places. I knew it wouldn't be my sister, since she never had the inclination to play detective and check on the whereabouts of a thirty-year-old brother who had been living independently since he was thirteen. She always regarded me as a "little brother" much to my indignation, but she also had so much confidence in me that I highly doubt she would start worrying for me and would want to take care of me after ten years of being out of the limelight. Next thing I considered was whether there would be a woman who I might have slept with while on my break from the military, and to whom I could have confessed my secret job, and here she goes looking for me and about to tell me that she was bearing my child. I shuddered at the thought. "She doesn't look pregnant, does she?"