Manuel Ortega awoke lying on the ground.
He was soaking wet.
His hands were tied behind his back and he was shaking like a leaf. His teeth were shaking too and every single movement he made gave him a sharp pain in his tongue.
The cold was making him retch.
Had he puked with the gauzes inside his mouth, he was at risk of suffocating.
Ortega didn't want to die, he hadn't joined the selection program to die, on the contrary... Maybe, he had joined to be less expendable than the other common soldiers. To be more precious, just like Johnny suggested to him a life-time ago, by then.
He had no idea how much longer the selection was going to last, but after he had been tortured on the wound on his tongue, for the first time he had started thinking about quitting for real.
At the moment, however, he was mostly worried about dying.
Don't puke – he continued repeating himself.
Don't die.
Trautman came in through the door. He stopped a while to look at Ortega.
Then said:
“You have suffered permanent damage to your tongue, Ortega. But legally, we can't reject you, if you don't quit yourself. But I wouldn't do that. Your disability is going to have more value if you join the Special Forces”
Ortega turned vaguely in Trautman's direction.
“But put yourself in my shoes: dismissed right after joining... It doesn't sound so fair. Resign, Ortega. Quit now because you are never going to join the special forces anyway. You are a disabled man”
Ortega shrugged on the floor, as if he couldn't care less.
Trautman kicked him on his stomach.
Ortega tensed and closed his eyes.
“The next will be on your mouth, Ortega. Don't make me do it. I don't want to do it”
Ortega turned on the other side, to show him his hands tied behind his back, and then gave him the middle finger.
Trautman's face became red.
He started snorting in rage, then looked at his watch.
He breathed for a while, undecided whether to give him another kick or not.
It was the hour, by then.
It was two in the morning, on Wednesday the twenty fith, ninteen-sixty-seven.
Trautman stooped calmly over him, then said in a low voice:
“Congratulations, lieutenant”
Then he got up.
“Welcome on board”