I was not prepared.

  A lot of the stuff we did, I remembered from basic training. The running, climbing, obstacle courses were all easy with my rejuvenated health. But the combat training was something else. These people didn't use sidearms and practise in a range. They trained for sword and shield combat with monsters and magic. I was woefully unprepared for any of that stuff, and it pissed me off.

  "Try to keep up old man." A younger guy, my training partner, said to me. He was being playful, a grin spread across his face as we batted each other with foam covered swords, holding wooden shields with our off hands.

  I growled in frustration as I swung in hard. It was an obvious overhead swing that he brought his shield up into with an easy block. The padding around my sword made a hollow thud that echoed in the gymnasium. It was quickly drowned out by the sounds of clashing steel around me.

  All the others trained with real weapons, dancing around each other with expert precision. And here I was whacking a foam covered blade against a wooden plank.

  "Come on old man, you'll have to do better than that." My partner, Vance Winston, said.

  "Stop calling me old man." I growled back, swinging in from the side. Vance swung his shield out to meet my sword and it glanced off harmlessly.

  "I feel like you aren't really trying." He said, more seriously. I wanted to throw my sword at him.

  "I am trying. I just never thought with all the weapon training I've had, that I'd be fumbling my way around a sword." I told him.

  "Are you trying to tell me old dogs can't learn new tricks?" Vance laughed. I cracked a smile, as I came in again, trying for an upward strike, but Vance parried with his own sword and slammed his shield into me, knocking me off guard.

  "I don't know if I'm gonna get the hang of this." I told him, feeling more than a bit sore and defeated. He put his arms down and cocked his head to the side.

  "It's your first day. Don't quit so easily or they'll put you at a desk." Vance said seriously. I shuttered at the thought of being desk-bound. That was my fear about returning to the force back in Toronto. I knew I was getting old, but I wasn't ready to be taken out of the field, or worse, forced to retire.

  A buzzer like a hockey goal went off, signalling the end of the training shift. The trainees rushed to rack their weapons, and wheeled the mobile carts back into a room with a garage-like door. Vance motioned for me to follow him. I chucked my foam sword and wooden shield into the storage room.

  "I feel like I'm back in high school." I commented, after most of the others had cleared out. Vance nodded.

  "For some of us, it is. If you have parents that were part of the Order, you end up being a legacy. You have big shoes to fill, in some cases, impossibly big. A lot of those kids end up living here, like a boarding school. They spend every waking moment in these walls, deep underground, with barely any free time to go and be normal teenagers. This place becomes their whole life." He said, his eyes suddenly distant.

  "Wow, that's kind of intense." I muttered. Vance continued like he hadn't heard me.

  "The worst part is, not all of us get to become Chosen. You have to be top of your class. You have to excel at something, or some times, everything. You'd think we'd all be close, but when you're down here, you're all fighting for the same prize. You don't even make friends until you make it to Chosen and meet the others." He said sadly. His eyes suddenly looked at me and he snapped his fingers.

  "Meet the others. You should meet my team. Come on, lets hit the showers." He said quickly, ushering me away.

  ~*~

  "Hangin' in there, old man?" I felt a pat on my back and the cop in me wanted to put the kid on his ass. I knew Vance meant well, but I couldn't stand the 'old man' bit.

  "Yup, my leg feels good as new. Feels great to be getting all this exercise and training, even if the combat training is throwing me off." I said, stretching after my warm shower. I looked over my shoulder, as Vance slammed his locker closed, wrapping a towel around his waist. He was tall and wiry, with a defined form. His short brown hair was cut in typical military style. He reminded me of myself, in my younger days.

  "I'm hittin' the sauna, you in?" He clapped my shoulder again, so I grabbed his wrist and pulled him down to the bench between us. He looked shocked, but when he saw I was smiling, he laughed.

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  "Haha, nice one Detective. Still got the moves I see." He chuckled. When I let go, he rubbed his wrist and moved out of arms range. I put my hands in the air, showing him I meant no harm.

  "I'll meet ya in there, so I don't get my ass kicked." Vance called over his shoulder as he headed away.

  "Yea, good call." I mumbled to myself. Even if I couldn't beat him in swords and shields, I knew I could probably kick his ass in hand to hand. I chuckled to myself.

  I removed my towel and rubbed the scar on my knee. I couldn't believe that I was walking, never-mind all the rigorous training that they had these kids go through. I questioned the nature of it all, but Kas had assured me it was all very necessary. I guessed Lancelot had a quota of child soldiers he needed to meet, or something. The thought sent a shiver up my spine. I had seen war. I had seen what it did to people. What exactly was the Order building an army for, when small teams of agents were just as capable, or so it had seemed. Guardians, Chosen, Progenitors...there had to be a reason.

  I made my way across the slippery locker room floor and over to the wooden door between all the tiles. The sauna was more full than I expected, and there were young women in there.

  "Oh, excuse me." I said, putting my hand in front of my eyes, but I heard Vance's chuckle.

  "This some kinda joke, boy?" I called from behind my hand.

  "It's co-ed, ya geezer." He chuckled. I felt him grab hold of my upper arm, and I was tempted to judo flip him, but there wasn't enough space. He guided me over and up to a seat and plopped down beside me.

  "You can take your hand from in front of your face. None of us are shy." One of the ladies said matter-of-factly, as if me being embarrassed was unheard of. I moved my hand and looked over the five new faces, and then turned to Vance, glaring at him.

  "This is my team, the Chosen of the Citadel." He started. Vance punched the guy beside him in the shoulder. He was a big guy, all muscle and protein shakes. His hair was short in the back, long and spikey in the front and his skin was obviously spray tanned; he was practically orange. His strong jaw clenched as he visibly resisted the urge to put Vance back, likely through the wall.

  "This is Landon Huxley. His dad's one of Her Majesty's Elites. He has a large shadow to live under, and makes an even bigger one himself."

  Landon gave me one of those 'bro-head nods' of approval. I nodded back, still trying not to look at the ladies in the room. Call me old school, but co-ed sauna just didn't rub me right.

  "That's Ashlee Kingsley," Vance continued, pointing to a chubby blonde girl in the corner. She was probably the only female out of the group who looked embarrassed. She was also the only one wearing two towels; one to cover her...umm, ample breasts, the other to cover below the waist. She waved at me, but quickly returned her hands to her towels, clutching them before they fell.

  "Ashlee is our 'girl in the chair', so to speak. She's got all the newest tech and a brain like a super computer. Even in the field, under pressure, she's amazing. Essentially, we'd all be dead if it wasn't for her." Vance explained, winking at her. Ashlee turned a deeper red than she was already.

  "The douchebag sitting too close to the steam rocks is Clinton Drake." Vance motioned to a guy sitting on the floor, surrounded in steam and covered in sweat. Big black wings were tattooed on his back. He had a menagerie of other tattoos on his body that I couldn't make out through the steam. His long dark hair hung low and wet, covering his face. He raised his hand and motioned with a flick of his wrist, to acknowledge me.

  "Clint is our team badass." Vance explained, nudging me with a chuckle.

  "Excuse your privilege." One of the girls piped up. A skinny, pale girl with her short hair two separate colors; electric blue in the front and raven black in the back, snapped at Vance. He rolled his eyes.

  "That's Sky Ridley. Emo-feminist-vegan-soul sucking..."

  "Hey! I'm not actually that bad!" She shouted, flailing her arms dramatically. Sky turned to me and offered a sincere smile and a peace sign. "I promise I'm not as annoying as he makes me sound."

  "And last, but certainly not least, the girl glaring at you from the other corner of the room is Liliana Maxwell." He pointed to the brunette with her hair in a librarian bun. Her arms were crossed and she was in fact, glaring daggers at me.

  "What is he doing here?" Liliana growled. She looked like she was the oldest in the room, so I guessed the miserable older sister trope made sense.

  "Be nice!" the other five said in unison, as if it were practised. I suddenly didn't feel so bad, realizing this was probably a usual thing with her.

  "Everyone, this is Detective John Callum, from Canada. He's going to be training with us for a while." Vance explained. There were mixed reactions across the room, from Sky's excited clapping and 'yays' and Clinton's silent thumb's up, to Liliana's glares.

  "Hey everyone. Happy to be here. Great opportunity." I chuckled nervously and Vance nudged my rib with his elbow.

  "Hey, it's not so bad. John has lots of experience in the field and can probably share lots of cool stories with us. Right John?" He smiled widely.

  "Uh, yea sure." I decided that the floor was more interesting. Never in my life had I been so nervous, and I'd been shot before. This room, full of angst and tension, was going to be the death of me. My eyes darted for the exit and I contemplated leaving.

  "I heard Chase Morgan crippled you." Liliana snapped from across the room, a smug look on her bitchy face.

  "Oh yea, blew a whole clean through my kneecap. I got better." I laughed nervously. There are a few strained chuckles across the small steamy room, and then awkward silence.

  "What's he like up close?" Liliana's demeanor completely changed and she leaning forward with her head cradled in her hands, elbows on her knees. There is a joint groan from the rest of the crew.

  "Here we go." Vance mumbled to me.

  "He's, err.... terrifying. Vacant eyes in deep sockets, tall and imposing. He's remarkably fast and reminds me of a serial killer." I said blatantly, without thinking. Liliana quivered and sighed blissfully.

  "I bet you he smells great too." She murmured to herself. Sky made a retching sound.

  "You probably have pictures of the guy all over your room." Landon piped up, his voice a deep baritone, which was suiting for a guy his size.

  Liliana rolled her eyes, and eventually the chatter picked up and I was suddenly sitting in a room full of ranting young adults.

  Part of me missed my couch back in Toronto.