The day after their arrival was boring yet filled with a high level of anxiety for all the members of Team Three. Their issued gear was packed in their footlockers, as civilian dress was still permitted for one last day. Introductions were made by Kollar Havapopulas during a simple lunch of tasty, homemade soup, thick sandwiches, and slices of pie for dessert. As a team, they toured the grounds, inspecting the stables, the various barns, all of the outer buildings, including one that was referred to as the command center, the pool house and the heated pool, and the building that housed four classrooms and a room that held ten computers. All-state-of-the-art. The last building at the edge of the compound was the clinic/infirmary, where a huge red cross hung on the door.

Each team was introduced to their academic instructors and their drill sergeants. There were no smiles and no levity at all. There was a NO ENTRY sign over the firearms building and shooting range.

Perhaps the most frightening thing of all was the half acre dog kennel, where six dogs, almost clones of Alpha, were housed. The trainer said they patrolled the grounds at night and at certain periods of the day. The dogs looked mean and angry but nothing compared to Alpha’s demeanor. They were told by the trainer that Alpha was the dogs’ leader, and that the others, all sired by him, were so attuned to his silent messages that they obeyed him instantly. The trainer went on to explain that if any of the team members stepped over the line, one of the dogs would make them wish they hadn’t. “There are certain areas of the compound that are off-limits to everyone but the staff. Ignorance will be no excuse if you tread where you aren’t supposed to tread,” he said before he walked away.

Hawkins was more impressed with the building called the motor pool, which housed a variety of motorcycles, golf carts, and scooters. For the mountain terrain, of course. “Would you look at that Ducati,” Hawkins said, his eyes those of a child on Christmas morning.

The women were busy examining the scooters, the kind driven in Bermuda and the Bahamas, and the golf carts. Everything was painted olive green, even the scooters.

“In the fashion world this color would be referred to as asparagus green or celery green,” Slick said. “I whizzed around Europe on motorbikes all the time. They’re fun,” she said.

Ever practical, Sam said, “I guess they have to airlift in the gasoline. Let’s check out the cable car.”

“It’s off-limits,” Hawkins said. “Don’t even go there.”

“Anyone up for a hike?” Sam asked. Her eyes said it was time to check out the mountain, not just the compound. The others agreed. “Long pants, long sleeves, and sneakers,” she ordered, having earlier been voted in as team leader, as they trudged back to their barracks to change.