A demented sargeant who was disgraced from Afganistan seeks John Watson for his revenge, and to make him apart of his own army.
Yeeees the title has changed, sorry if this bothers anyone ^^; Carrying on~
It's going to be sensational.
Everything is going so well, all nice and mapped out. There's this crudely built shack just north of the army base, absolutely perfect. Nobody about since us lads swooped down on the place .. well. I say that. Some dirty little dwellers crawling about during the day but they're not a problem. In fact, they're an advantage. They don't roam far and when night slips by they're easy enough to lure. Nice little bits on the side, those. Check their reflexes, their strengths, but of course I can't be focusing too much on them. Oh no. I have something much more major to be concentrating on.
The good thing about these shacks? They're cabin thick, and if you put a gag in the sod's mouth he sounds like every other blighter crying for their dinner. Private Bennington. Young lad, not far into his twenties. Started in the USO, finished up with a bullet clean through his hand. You could poke your eye through that. I took him in, sent him off to the doctor's tent in the back of a truck. Or so they think. The whole base thinks he's dead now, all official and listed. Killed on-route by a landmine. But he's doing amazing. Conscious, excellent vitals. A bit too vocal for my liking though - he chewed through the rag the other day, after I was so kind as to bring him some bread rolls from base. Screamed his face off, so I had to smack him down a bit.
I can't wait to get the faffing about over with and actually start, and he won't be the first. Oh no. I'll recruit more, and we'll grow as strong as we are numerous. We'll be brilliant. We'll be sensatinal.