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brUTUS

S tanding in his bedroom, Brutus double checked the bag that he'd packed for the week ahead. It wasn't much, just a single gym bag of exercise clothes, toiletries, some casual hangout clothes for the evenings that he didn't really expect to have a chance to use, socks, and underpants.

The Army said they'd provide him with the rest.

Picking up the bag, Brutus glanced around his bedroom one last time.

His home was his sanctuary, a place to escape the relentless spotlight.

He'd traded the convenience of city life for the peace of these five acres, finding solace in the quiet that allowed him to recover from the physical and mental demands of his career.

The forty-minute drive from the Bluecats practice facility was a small price to pay for the rejuvenation this place offered.

Keith was waiting for him along with Vanna, his housekeeper.

"You got everything?" Keith asked him. "You're not going to need much."

"The Army doesn't have a problem with me wearing an ankle brace?" Brutus confirmed, and Keith nodded. "Then I'm good."

"Don't worry about the house, Mr. Townsend," Vanna said, her comfortable clothes reflecting Brutus's preference for practicality over formality. "I'll be by every day to keep things in order."

"Thank you Vanna, I'm not worried at all," Brutus said. "It's just like training camp, right?"

"You just wake up earlier," Vanna, whose brother was in the Air Force, said.

She'd been surprised when Brutus had apologized to her a week ago, and their relationship had become warmly professional because of it.

"Don't worry Mr. Townsend, you'll be fine."

After giving Vanna a little wave of goodbye, Brutus left the house, taking his bag out to his truck. It was one of three vehicles he owned, and the one he'd decided was best for the two and a half hour drive to Fort Pickett.

"Remember," Keith said as Brutus unlocked the door and tossed his bag into the back, "the league put some rules on this."

"I know," Brutus said, not liking the league sticking their nose into the arrangement at the last minute but knowing he didn't have another option. The team had already signed off on the deal.

"You know, but let's be clear." Keith pulled an envelope out of his suit pocket and handed it to him.

"It's seven straight days, Brutus. You have to complete the week with the unit, and at the end they're going to give you a grade.

You have to pass in order to get credit towards your league suspension. "

"What did you learn about these guys anyway?" Brutus asked. "They're in the middle of nowhere, right? Had to double-check it wasn't a prank."

Keith shrugged. "They're the real deal, but low-profile. They'll push you, but they know you're not a soldier. Put in the work, and you'll be fine."

"That's the whole plan," Brutus assured Keith. "Get it done."

"Good. From what I heard, you won't be in basic training mode, but you won't be living the high life either. When you get to the base, the unit commander's going to walk you through it all."

"Forget it," Brutus said. "You just keep ESPN and TMZSports or whoever from badmouthing me any more."

"You're slow news now, baby," Keith assured him. "Football's over until the draft, everyone's talking basketball now. Relax and enjoy being out of the spotlight for a few months. Give me a call if you need anything."

They shook hands, and Brutus climbed into his truck, pulling away into the morning chill.

He'd planned his trip to take his time, pausing halfway to the base to get a pair of drive-thru double cheeseburgers.

He knew that it wasn't the healthiest meal in the world, and the Army had assured him that he'd be able to eat enough to maintain his strength and health.

Brutus knew he had to look out for himself. Maintaining his body mass was a constant challenge, and past experiences had taught him not to rely on promises of adequate nutrition. That's why he'd packed his own protein powder, just in case.

When he was about a half hour out according to the GPS on his phone, he sent Keith a message, who said he'd contact the Army and make sure they were ready.

From there it was an easy drive, the GPS steering him right where he needed to go.

Pulling up to the main gate with its two-lane overhanging structure that read Joint Training Center, Virginia National Guard on it, Brutus was directed into a visitor's parking area just beyond an old-fashioned World War II tank.

An MP came over, along with two men in military fatigues. Both men were in shape, one with a slight tinge of gray to his temples and the other carrying himself like a former athlete.

"Mr. Townsend?" the taller officer said, offering a hand. "Lieutenant Colonel Paul Remsburg, commander of the Third Battalion, Third Infantry Regiment. Welcome to Fort Pickett."

"Thank you for hosting me, Colonel," Brutus said. "I hope you weren't waiting too long."

Remsburg glanced at his watch, and shook his head. "About ten minutes. I waited longer the last time I had to meet a Senate subcommittee, and they had supposedly professional drivers."

Brutus chuckled, glad the Colonel had a sense of humor. "Still, it is your day off."

"That's why we make the big bucks," the Colonel said. "Anyway, let me introduce you to your company commander for the next seven days, Major Tyson Kirk."

"Nice to have you here, Mr. Townsend." Major Kirk offered his hand. "First up... is the truck clear?"

The MP who had come over with the two officers nodded. Apparently he'd been inspecting Brutus's truck for something. "Roger, sir."

"Good." Major Kirk reached into the thigh pocket of his uniform and taking out a piece of paper.

He handed it to Brutus, and he saw it was a temporary parking pass.

"Please keep that in the front window of your truck on the passenger side, displayed for people to see.

You won't be driving much, but it'll save you hassle and prevent your truck getting towed in the meantime. "

Brutus went over to his truck and immediately put the paper where asked before coming back.

"Okay. Now what?"

"Now you get to follow our Humvee back to battalion headquarters, where we'll brief you on how this upcoming week is going to go and introduce you to your chain of command," Remsburg said.

"We're going to try and keep things short and to the point today to give you a chance to settle in and get accustomed to the barracks. "

Brutus climbed back into his truck, and saw a military Hummer pull out of another parking spot. As it pulled into the roadway an arm stuck out to wave him on. Considering the rear bumper read HQ 3/3 INF, he was pretty sure he had the right vehicle, and followed it as it drove away.

Fort Pickett was a lot bigger on the inside than he'd expected.

Following along behind the Humvee, he was surprised to see row after row of white clapboard type buildings, interspersed with the occasional brick walled structure.

He did note a huge complex off to his left as they turned down a different road and kept going, finally stopping at another brick and white boarded, two-story building.

Pulling around into the parking lot, Brutus stopped and followed Remsburg and Kirk into the building.

"I know it doesn't look like much on the outside.

" Remsburg pulled open one of the double glass doors, "but the Army's done a decent amount to make sure our offices are up to the highest standards. "

The man wasn't lying. Sure, the walls were a plain, boring white, and the furniture was pretty much what Brutus expected, government issue and ugly as hell.

But the computers on the desks looked newer than the ones the Bluecats used for team meetings, and the conference room he was led into was serviceable, with chairs that were more comfortable than they first appeared.

Inside were four more people. His gaze immediately locked onto the woman at the end of the line.

Stunning. Slightly taller than average, her light caramel skin and incredible eyes almost glowed under the fluorescent lights.

She wore sergeant's stripes, but it was her captivating presence that held his attention.

"Mr. Townsend, this first briefing will be kept simple," Remsburg said. "You'll be meeting your chain of command today before I turn you over to Major Kirk. He'll be the most senior officer directly observing you on a daily basis, and you'll be interacting with his company the most."

"I understand, Colonel."

"Good," Remsburg said. "Now, while I'll be signing off on your completion of this week's training, you can guess who's actually going to be giving you your grade."

"I get you, Colonel," Brutus said.

"Something like that," Remsburg acknowledged. "So, Major?"

"Thank you, sir." Kirk picked up a remote and hit a button.

On the ceiling, a projector fired up, and while it wasn't as powerful as the huge LED screens that the Bluecats used in their team meeting rooms, it worked.

"So Mr. Townsend, for the next seven days you'll be a member of Charlie Company, otherwise known as Cranked. You're going to be slotted into Alpha Team, First Squad, Third Platoon. With that let me introduce you to your chain of command. First, your platoon leader, First Lieutenant Parker."

The tall man gave him a nod, and Brutus nodded back. He looked serious, and was definitely a lifetime Army man, Brutus thought. It was like meeting other second-generation professional athletes, there was a certain air to them, like they were born for what they were doing and knew it.

"Next is your platoon sergeant, Sergeant First Class Lincoln."

"Sergeant."

"Townsend," Sergeant Lincoln replied, and Brutus could hear the iciness in the man's voice. Obviously he wasn't a Bluecats fan. Or maybe he just wasn't a Brutus Townsend fan.