Finding A Place

"Three, two, one..." His fingers counted down as his lips formed each unspoken number. The muscles of the camouflaged behind him were tense long before 'one' and there was no hesitation- the instant his hand formed the signal, they moved. Four uniformed figures, one female and four male, slipped past the roughly 6' leader and ran. The shadows surrounding the attacking unit gifting them with the advantage of being hidden until the time to reveal their victorious presence was in its prime.

Each of the five-member team was swift, moving past hurriedly placed but solid structures, until they were near the small building in which the target of their organized rescue was forcefully held. He was an intelligent man, but untrained against an interrogation of any kind. An uncomfortable silence might be all that was needed to force him to inform their enemy of anything he knew. They remained crouched as guards walked past, trained muscles perfected for such a moment, then slipped around a corner in an impeccable sync.

Past one wall, around a corner, another wall, another corner, they made no sound as they slipped in the grey door. The lone chair, placed in the center of the empty room, held the bound man. The rope around his wrists was cut and the cloth covering his mouth was removed before he stood.

"We got him," one of the uniformed rescuers whispered on sight of the prisoner.

"Shields, in front of us, Cover on my right, Snipe, head out ahead."

One left the room in obedience while two more pulled up shields. The fourth adjusted the tight grip on her weapon. With the shielded two walking ahead, the team and their ally slipped out the door one by one. Secrecy was no longer required, but the return to their borders would be easier with their presence unannounced to their adversaries. Not far into their retreat a fall was heard: their sniper brought an enemy down.

While he seemed to have no field training, the nervous-looking man followed and kept any questions to himself. His steps quickly found a rhythm near to matching theirs within moments of his escape, but the calm movement did not last long. The shields stopped to protect those behind them as the leader and the cover aimed their weapons. Four enemies stood in the path only long enough to blink; each fell to the floor but a second later, hit. No hurried footsteps or sounds of alarm broke the still air, leaving only the soft sounds of their boots to accompany each step. Soon, the limit of their enemy border was in sight and they paused just steps away. Most of the expressions were stoic, leaving only the rescued man to have a face depicting bewilderment. He did not have to wait long for an answer- the sniper all but appeared behind his team.

"Thanks for waiting for me."

"Of course. We don't leave a man behind."

A horn sounded at a half-deafening level once the team was on their side and each member cheered. Encouragements were passed for a few long moments before those they fought were behind them, each still holding a weapon.

"Great win, guys; I can see why you're one of the highest-ranking groups on the record." The leader smiled ruefully.

"You were awesome! Less than eight minutes, in and out, nearly undetected, only six kills?" Before the slightly short male could continue to freak out, the winning leader frowned toward his team.

"Six?"

"There was an enemy nearing your position without knowing," their sniper explained.

He nodded slowly and returned the gaze of his dark brown eyes to those he barely knew.

"Alright. Are you staying for another round?"

"No, we're going to roll out. Playing your team was an honor, though, seriously. You're even better than your game, which is really rare, especially among the greats."

Soft smiles quickly curved on the faces of each.

"Your best game is the person you choose to be."

Each of the competing members grinned at the wise words.

"Well, we better head out. Thanks for playing us."

"Absolutely. Hey, you'll probably be giving us tips if you keep practicing like this."

"No way." He grinned and his unit turned and walked out. Major players often said such a line promising younger ones they did not truly believe would make it, but as they put away their equipment and exited, each of them felt the sincerity of the victor's words.

"You did a great job, too. The facial expressions, the body language - your acting is amazing, man."

"Thank you. You guys are a refreshing change from the usual high-rollings teams around here. Some of the nicest kids I've ever played with lose all interest in treating people like people once they start racking up points."

"No matter what you're doing, there will always be someone able to do it better; you can choose to be angry and smug or to build relationships more valuable than those skills."

He looked through the arena's open doors. "Mhm, that's something I think a lot of us miss out on learning. Anyway, I should get back to work."

"Thanks again, Alex."

"Yeah, you were great, man."

They waved as their friend left and continued to play a few more rounds with any teams that needed opponents until evening. Each went in different directions at the front exit, wearing regular clothing and carrying duffel bags or large backpacks.

The night passed and the team regrouped the next morning. Though they attended the same school, they had few classes together: Sniper was a sophomore with one of the shields while the other shield, cover and the lead were juniors. On most mornings they met in a quiet but comfortable corner by the computer rooms; it was a large enough area for at least eight people to stand with plenty of their own space, but it seemed invisible to the other students when they walked past it.

"Hey, Max."

"Hey, Diane. Are you sore, too?"

She laughed softly.

"This is sounding like our first few days all over again."

"Really?" His eyebrows came together in uncertainty before a reminiscent light shone in his black eyes. "Yeah, you're right. Five straight hours was probably a bit too much, huh?"

"My hurting everything say 'yes'. Did you stretch?"

"Ha! Not since we hit 20th on the scoreboard." He winced. "But maybe we should go back to doing that."

"Hey, guys."

"Will!"

"What's up, man?"

"Since I was hurting a little this morning, I thought you guys would be, too." He pulled a small bottle out of his pocket labeled 'ibuprofen'.

"Oh, yes."

"You're awesome."

Both took one of the offered pills before the container was quickly hidden; unless it was an allergy, life-saving or menstrual medicine given by the school nurse, it was against the rules. He grinned shyly at the praise.

"Hey, I'm just looking out for my team."

"Aww, Will, that's so cute!" Diane teased him. "'Your' team."

Max snickered as he watched his friend give a small shake of his head.

"Hey, if someone's on a team, it's 'their team'." His counter had close to no effect and the dark-haired young man realized he had made a mistake that would haunt him for a long time.

Both of his teammates shared an odd look before they grinned at each other and turned back toward him.

"What? Why are you looking at me like that?" When neither gave him an answer, he simply groaned. "Alright, alright, don't tell me; I'll find out sooner or later."

The snicker each repressed was obvious.

"You're freaking me out." His head shook slowly as one of their shields hurried up to them with excitement.

"Hey, guys, guys, last night was great."

"You don't have to fake, we're all sore." Will passed him an ibuprofen.

"Oh, praise the Lord; I didn't want to be the baby." He allowed his posture to slump as he took the small pill.

Their snickers turned into a full bout of laughter when Will turned and saw the sniper standing just behind him. He screamed and jumped back in fright.

"Dude!" The tall male gasped to regain his breath. "Don't... you can't... why?!"

His naturally tan face had an emotionless expression until one corner turned upward in a small, sly smile.

"You really ought to pay more attention to your surroundings." The shorter boy's voice was quiet, but his confident tone spoke volumes.

"Hey...?" The final member of the team approached, looking as confused as she felt. "What did I miss here?"

"The unrecorded winner of any home video contest."

"Well, does it count as a 'home video' if it was made at school?"

Anna turned to William and they began to discuss the idea continuously. As smaller conversations sprouted among assorted members of the team, minutes passed by until the bell rang. Each said a goodbye to the others before they took to separate directions for the first class of the day.

"Oh, I am so not ready for this test!"

"Do you realize that you make that claim before nearly every one?"

Diane's pre-assessment nerves were common for her even in her strongest subjects. She was a hard worker and studied for hours on even the whisper of a quiz or an exam of some sort.

"Yeah, I'm completely aware of that, but-"

"Hey, hey, no. Stop freaking yourself out. Do you have any idea how much you stress you put on yourself every time you hear the word 'test'?" Nick sighed with a shake of his head as they took their seats in Geometry class.

"You know, even though we're going to tease you about it, it's not a bad thing that you called it 'your team'. We're a family." Snipe was in an advanced English class with Will.

"The teasing doesn't really bother me; I'm a grown man."

The shorter boys