Fort Bragg
After two months in Fort Bragg, Ortega decided that he just didn't like Danforth.
During on-leave nights, he always looked for some prostitute.
And then he smoked, drank and searched everywhere for marijuana as if there were notomorrow, and it wasn't such a good activity to be always busy at, in Ortega's mind.
That night Ortega stared at him over his own beer, while suffering at the same time the shoulder and leg pain he had sustained that day.
He asked himself how the fuck Danforth could be able to never give in.
He could fill himself with marijuana – and god only knew what else – all night long, vanish inside a dive in the dead of night with a hooker, and then reappear on Monday morning at Fort Bragg again, as fresh as a daisy.
Marches with heavy rucksacks, weight-lifting, jogging... He could always do everything like it was nothing, and Ortega hated him because of that, because he knew he was physically inferior, and despite the healthier life he was living.
And this, sooner or later, would eventually become a problem, because Trautman was going to choose the two team leaders very soon, and he would choose between the physically fittest of them.
Trautman was looking for the perfect combination between physical strength and the right mentality.
Mentality first – he had said in the past.
Ortega wanted to command because he felt that role inside of him already.
He was a person of the reflective kind, and someone taught him that reflective people were very good in those roles where you should use your head.
Ortega wanted it very much, because in the deep of his heart he was sure that he could be a better leader than anyone else.