Anderson smirked standing in the doorway of the room as everyone looked at Jackson. All the ripped men. Tall, thin, large. But regardless of size, they were robust. They looked at Jackson. There were a total of 20 of them. Jackson stared back. Several were shirtless and getting ready for bed. Some brushed their teeth and looked up stopping.

Anderson smirked, "You gentlemen best be ready by 5:00 am tomorrow morning, your corporal will surely enjoy you lot", said Anderson who left shutting the door and locked it behind him.

The men looked at him. All different ages ranging from 20-45 years of age. Those who were younger on the age scale resumed to what they had formally been doing silently. They didn't want to cause any trouble. Well they did but they just wanted to wait for the right moment when the others weren't watching. One man raised stood in a towel having gotten out of the shower. He smirked.

"What do they call you?", asked the man. The three beside him looked at Jackson waiting for an answer.

"Jackson", he replied bluntly.

"Jackson....", repeated the man. He had a tattoo across his shoulder with his Air Force platoon number and sign inked into his skin. 

"What branch brother?", asked the man.

"Marines", replied Jackson.

The man smirked, "Air Force, not hard to tell. What got you in jail?",  he asked.

"What's it to you?", asked Jackson.

The man laughed, "Ha! Because we all got in jail some how Jackson right?", asked the man.

Jackson didn't respond. He said nothing for a moment, "It's personal", said Jackson.

The group burst out laughing. "He said it was personal! Boy you don't have a clue as to what you got yourself into do you?", asked the man.

Jackson's jaw tightened....boy.....that one word.....boy.....

"Let me explain this whole thing to you since you seem a bit lost. Plus it's best for you to know what your in. But hey since your a marine maybe this will be a piece of cake for you brother. Who knows", acknowledged the man.

He then looked at Jackson, "Nothing's personal anymore Jackson. All our lives, all our meals, all our days, all our activity are now there's.....this ain't the normal US military Jackson. This is Loyalty. Their preparing us for something bigger than war. Didn't that man tell you?", asked the man referring to Anderson.

"I don't give a crap", replied Anderson.

"From the bruises and cuts on your face you let your mouth run ahead didn't you? It's all good the rest of us did too", said the man turning the side of his face. Jackson narrowed his eyes as he saw purple bruises along the man's cheek, neck, and shoulder. Some had bruises on their chests and cuts on their lips and above their eyebrows.

"The top seven get to become body guards to what they call Player Number One. I don't entirely get it myself but whoever this Player Number One is must be pretty damn important to whoever is hiring us. But we won't know who that is unless we make it to the top seven. Those who don't, I don't know what will happen. They said they'll find other uses for us", said the man.

"I don't care", replied Jackson. This guy was pretending to be friendly. It smelled bad.

"Well Jackson guess that's good for you. But the rest of us, we all want to get to the top seven. But this is going to be a ride through Hell. They aren't going to give us any drugs or booze for the pain. They're going to break us, weed the rest out who can't handle it or make it. It may sound like the army Jackson. But from what I saw when I came here. This is a whole lot more than that. I was in prison for nine years going for life because of hurting my wife after I came back home. Here I am, so what's your story Jackson?", asked the man.

"I don't feel like telling, it's personal got it?", tested Jackson.

"What you too much of a wimp to spit it out?", asked the man annoyed.

"Hey", warned a voice.

Everyone turned to the sound of the voice. A man lifted his head from the sink having splashed water onto his face.

The man turned,"Yeah what do you want? In on the conversation black man?", asked the man glaring back.

The stranger wiped his face with his towel, he looked over his muscles rippling as he turned his head facing the other. He draped the towel over the back of his neck and walked over to the man with the Air Force tattoo.  Though he was shorter and a bit leaner than the Air Force gentlemen, the stranger was older.

"No...I want you to shut your little white mouth and go to bed", said the stranger.

Everyone was dead silent.

All were stiff and tense. It was painful just to watch. But also amusing and exciting.

The Air Force man clenched his jaw tightly and curled his fists. But his superiority slowly  faded. The words were solid and the 21 year old realized he couldn't beat a man like this one. The dark eyes. Though both were well built it was simply the way the other dark skinned stranger spoke towards him that put him on edge.

"Tsch!", said the dark skinned man walking around him. He was disgusted that he got no response. All talk no back bone to man up.