Training Day

         
                                                              Training Day


              The team leader instructed them on who got to handcuff me and who got to shackle my
legs.  He told them how much of an asshole I was  and to never let their guard down; any mistake they
made would be taken advantage of.
             
              My cell was segregated so I wouldn’t disrupt the rest of the jail population.  Preparation was
key to my success.  It wouldn’t have been possible to predict the outcome of the assault.  I gave myself a
few small advantages I could think of.  My arms were lathered with wet county soap; dry soap was used on
the floor and I made sure they had maximum running space to get to me.
             
              A crowd began to gather; they gawked at me through the inch thick windows of my cell. All of
them were uppity administrative assholes who wanted to witness my demise or the failure of my
subduers.  Those people raised my adrenaline to new heights, they disgusted me.


              The extraction team marched to my cell six deep.  Captain Morris led the muscle-bound freak parade.  The
next four were my attackers, dressed in head to toe riot gear, they looked like formidable assailants for
any normal inmate.  Sgt. Mccandless followed the group armed with a digital  video camera, most people
only knew him as Mac.

                “Face the wall and put your hands behind your back,”  the captain barked at the cell door.
               
                Across the cell I waited nonchalantly next to a single, gun-metal, grey bunk.  I pretended to
drink water from a cup I refused to return after meal service.  I wasn’t sure why they came; it could have
been the cup or numerous other  rule infractions; maybe they didn’t have a reason.  Any way you look at it
my orders were to fight to the end and nothing would change that.  I shrugged off the next two orders by
the captain; it was protocol to repeat the order twice; I’d been here long enough to know.

                  The captain repositioned himself at the side of the door to allow the first helmeted guard to
move into position.  At a glance I could see the fear in the blue eyes of the immense man in front.  The door buzzed
open, it was the bell that started the fight.
               
                  I’d dropped my cup of water at the feet of  the big man that pushed through the door first, to
activate the soap.  Off balance, his momentum drove him continually forward.  By pulling on the top of his
helmets visor I redirected him to collide with the wall.  The jolt caused his handcuffs to clatter to the
concrete floor.

                    I launched myself head first into the remaining men standing, hoping for a bowling pin effect,
unfortunately the pins fell forward smashing me into the floor. Yeah, that was a bad idea.

                  Something hard  was stabbing me in the chest, I knew what it was and dug my hands in to get them; it felt like I was peeling the skin from my arms as I worked them between the concrete and myself to get the prize.  Only a few seconds until they recovered; it would have been great if one of them got cuffed in the end.  I got them!  It already felt like a victory as I wrapped my fingers around a closed restraint.

                    They decided to attack my arms;  soap on my elbows kept them from immediate success and gave me time to grab the other closed cuff.  My arms became a twisted game of tug-of-war where the only loser was me. 

                    “Fuck!” A sharp pain encircled my left ankle.  It was too tight any movement from that leg caused pain.  Pressure on my Achilles tendon kept me from bending my foot.  I attempted to remove the threat at my feet; aiming high with my free leg I must have connected with a head.

                    “We need help!”  I heard someone yell from my feet.”  Immediate pressure was relieved from
my elbows and it felt like my free loose appendage was being tackled; it was no longer the weapon I had hoped for. 

                    “Aagh!” It was no accident that the second leg was shackled tighter than the first.  It almost
caused my surrender but the cuffs were still in my possession and it wasn’t time to reveal them.

                      My assailants were mad, really mad.  I knew the assault would return to my arms and I awaited the punishment.

                    One of them got on my back driving his knuckles into my neck; an attempt to get me to raise my head; it resulted in my chest being drove into the steel underneath me.  The fight for my arms continued.  My concentration was solely on protecting my secret; it had to be, so I didn’t think about the excruciating pain in my legs.  Fingernails carved blood from my arms as they attempted to gain control.

                    “Stop!” Mac’s voice echoed through the cell.

                    I sighed with relief.

                    “How come this man isn’t handcuffed?”  Morris yelled stealing back control of his men from the Sgt. 

                    The big man that headed the charge reached to the pocket on his side.  His embarrassment kept him silent.

                    “Who has the handcuffs!”  Morris barked.

                    My worn cracked voice barely audible from the cold cement floor almost caused Mac to drop his camera.  “I got them.”  I raised my hand, lacerated knuckles still welded to the blood soaked steel, it caused the nurse to run for her first aid kit.

                    “Everyone out!”  The voice that stopped the assault painted the cell once more as he handed off the camera to the Captain. The squad left and the crowd slowly dispersed as Mac helped me sit on the bunk.
                   
                    “Get them off!” I sat in pain as he removed the shackles.  Blood soaked my socks as the
pressure was relieved. 

                    “You gonna be okay to drive home?” 

                    “I have to stay two more hours, I was scheduled a half day.”

                    “You should rest for that time.”  The nurse said as she rushed into the cell to tend to my
wounds.

                    My attention was directed to Mac, I wasn’t listening to the nurse.  “Why didn’t Morris stop it
after I Yelled the first time?”

                    “Don’t know, but I bet he wished he did after he saw the handcuffs.”  That almost made the
torture worth it to humiliate him.  In the end it all came down to pride.  I wouldn’t let myself lose and he
had the same drive to win.  We were natural enemies that was why we were paired together.  The warden
had our psychological profiles and used them for his purposes.





                    The training room was quiet when Mac helped me through the large olive green security door to a seat in the rear of the class.  It was nice to be in my uniform once again.  "Stop!" I heard Mac's voice yell from the television in the center of the room before Morris stopped the recording.

                    “The first man in should have said something about the floor.”  Morris scolded his troops.  “This was planned and if in a real situation this happened, you could have been injured or killed.”  The team wouldn’t make eye contact with their instructor. “You are not alone.  You are a team.  You need to talk, let each other know where you are and what your doing.”

                    I watched as Morris paraded around the room.  He treated the men like they killed someone but in reality their failure was as much his fault as theirs.

                    “Sgt Paxton, do you have anything to add?”  Morris directed the class to me.

                    “This was your first extraction, it won’t be your last.”  I tried not to preach as I projected my
voice from my seat.  “This exercise was only to give you the basic idea of what to expect.  Win or lose, 
you all did fine and with experience you will get better.”  The positive reinforcement allowed the men to lift
their heads.”  I stood from my seat and waved Mac over.  “I think it’s time for us to leave.”  I quietly told my old friend as I draped my
arm over his shoulder.  “Let's take your car.”

                      I didn’t ask  the warden for permission and Mac knew I had to go.  Our destination was the
emergency room.  “You gonna be okay?  How’s your legs?”

                      “It’s not my legs.”  I couldn’t straighten my left arm and my hand was numb, I held onto this
secret until we reached our journey’s end.
         


                      I suffered nerve damage in my arm and had two surgeries over the next year.  In return for my service, I have pain that won’t  go away and questions that went unanswered.  Why weren’t  they stopped after my first screams of agony? Did Morris have a stake in getting rid of me?“

                      My training captain had told me that if we told people what really happens here we would have to call it fiction because nobody would believe it, so this is where living my fiction ends and telling it begins.


                                                            The End