the same air of forced confidence I’d disliked in Mr Blue. Another minibus was approaching down the entrance road and I turned to greet the newcomers, three men and a woman with striking red hair. Chad seemed to have appointed himself group spokesman and did most of the introductions, which gave me a chance to wander off and look at the assault course.
It was every bit as unappetising as I’d expected, with massive walls and complicated obstacles built of old railway sleepers, wires stretched between trees at dizzying heights, great nets made of rope and several deep pits filled with water and glutinous reddish-brown mud. Just to look at it made me feel cold, and scared, for all that I knew I could do it easily enough and possibly even without getting completely filthy. That at least I had school to thank for, while I’d also have Stacey with me, who’d been brought up on far worse.
Nobody was paying any attention to me, so I moved deeper into the woods and around to the rear of the buildings. Those furthest from the centre of the camp were clearly abandoned, including concrete pillboxes long overgrown and surrounded by trees, shelters half hidden beneath the ground and the huts themselves. I decided to investigate the one nearest the gate, numbered as twenty-six, but in faded yellow paint rather than a smart new stencil. After pushing the door open with some difficulty I found myself in a long, arched room with a row of double bunks to either side. The windows were green with algae and had several broken panes, which had allowed a scattered drift of pine needles to build up on the bare, concrete floor, but it was still easy to imagine it in use. With six of the double bunks to either side there would have been twenty-four men, young, fit men.
I let my mind wander, imagining myself as a local girl brought back to camp, drunk and happy and excited by so much male company. They’d have been nice boys, presumably, but maybe not too nice. Before long I’d have been teased out of my clothes, or perhaps found myself obliged to go nude as the loser in a game of strip poker. With that it wouldn’t have been long before their arousal got the better of their manners and inhibitions. I’d have found myself promising kisses, at which the bolder spirits would have taken the opportunity to stroke my bottom or touch my breasts.
One of them would have got out his cock, demanding a toss, and I’d have given in, slightly frightened, not at all sure of myself, but very, very aroused. I’d do it on my knees, pulling him over my breasts, but before long I’d have been eased down to take him in my mouth. When they saw what a slut I was the last of their reserve would vanish. I’d be made to service them all, sucking cock after cock as I knelt on the hard, bare floor, or perhaps they’d spread me out on the bunk in the corner as they took turns with me, mounting me one after another until I was dizzy with sex and slippery with their spunk.
It was a nice fantasy, and I moved to the window, wondering if I dared slip down my jeans and knickers to enjoy a hurried climax. Nobody was about, but then again there was no shelter at all. Anybody who walked in would be sure to catch me, which was going to make for a highly uncomfortable fortnight with a reputation as the girl who couldn’t resist frigging herself off ten minutes after turning up. It was better to wait, but the abandoned huts certainly offered some hope of private moments with Stacey, especially if we could find any deep in among the trees.
I turned back towards the centre of the camp, but came to a stop as I saw the group. Another man had joined them, a man in loose-fitting white tracksuit bottoms and a pale-blue top that showed off his muscles. He also had a tracksuit top and a bright-red peaked cap, but there was no mistaking him. It was Mr Blue, and if that wasn’t bad enough he was carrying a clipboard and had a whistle around his neck, which seemed to suggest that he was an instructor. The blood had rushed straight to my face, but there was nothing I could do except continue walking as he led the others towards the Assembly building. I was the last there, and crowded in behind the others, to a big, square room with a wooden floor.
There were no chairs, and Chad and his friends had formed a line, so the others fell in behind, myself included. Two men stood against the end wall, both in the blue tops that seemed to denote staff, both solid and well muscled, one short and white, one tall and black. Mr Blue was busy with his clipboard and didn’t notice me as I took my place in the back row, but I knew it was only a matter of time, and not long at that, as he’d begun to call out our names.
‘Ackland, Wendy?’
The red-haired girl raised her hand and Mr Blue made a mark on his clipboard.
‘Atkinson, Stacey?’
‘Sir … I mean, yes, I’m here.’
‘Sir will do nicely, or Mr Parker. That goes for the rest of you too. Respect is a vital part of leadership, and you will show me respect. Maybe you’ll earn mine, maybe not. OK, Graham Boothe?’
He carried on through the alphabet while I did my best to hide behind Paul, who was considerably wider than me and taller too. I knew it was hopeless, but that didn’t stop me wanting to postpone my fate. Then he reached the Fs.
‘Fisher, Juliette?’
I let out a gasp, completely unintentional and the tiniest fraction of a second before I realised that there was no reason at all to think it would be my Juliette Fisher, but it was already too late. Mr Blue, or rather Mr Parker, had moved a step aside to see who he thought had answered.
‘Fisher, Juliette?’
He was looking right at me and could hardly fail to realise who I was. I managed a sheepish smile in response to his brief glare of annoyance, but he quickly mastered himself.
‘Are you Juliette Fisher?’
‘No. Sorry.’
He shook his head.
‘There’s always one. Haynes, Sam?’
I was blushing hot as he moved on. Evidently Juliette Fisher wasn’t there, and nor were two others. Parker had obviously introduced everybody to the camp while outside, as he launched straight into a sort of pep talk.
‘Three missing. They go down as late. That’s how we do things here. You’re late, you lose. We take no prisoners and we make no exceptions. Everybody is equal, and that means equal. If you girls can’t keep up, tough. If you’re too weak, or too fat, or too useless to make the grade, tough. We want winners, not whingers. What do we want?’
Nearly everybody echoed his remark, even Stacey, but not me, while Paul seemed to have found something more interesting outside the window, possibly a cloud. Beforehand he’d never been more than a vague shape around the building, but I couldn’t help feeling sympathy, as of the people I knew there he alone seemed to resent the place. Some were even standing with legs braced apart and their hands clasped behind their back, as if they really were on parade, including Chad, Daniel, and Stacey, although she at least had the decency to look embarrassed and relax a little when I caught her eye. Parker turned to a new page on his clipboard and carried on.
‘Okey dokey, let’s get things together. First off, I want all mobile phones, laptops and any other gadgetry you have with you handed in, and that means now. I know you’re busy people, but I want you focused and I want you relying on yourselves, not on technology. My colleagues here are Mr Straw and Sergeant Reynolds, who will collect everything in, and I do mean everything.’
The two assistants moved forward as he carried on.
‘Second, this is a team exercise, so we form teams. Teams, not individuals, that’s what matters, and that’s why each of you is going to be given a letter. That’s your letter and your name for the duration. It’s what I’ll call you by and it’s how you’ll appear on the rosters and on the results boards, so learn it. Use your ordinary
