The rest of the day was spent with each of the remaining troops having to undergo a series of psychological tests conducted by Seven. As Brent watched each man return to the barracks, he noticed they looked as if they had been put through the ringer. Finally, it was his turn.
Brent sat on one side of a steel table and Seven sat on the other.
“The test is simple,” Seven said. “I’ll ask the questions, you’ll give the answers. There is only one rule. You will answer the questions spontaneously. No thinking, got it, Professor?”
“Got it.”
Seven began to fire question after question. They all seemed a bit trivial to Brent, but he did as ordered and answered each with quick precision. The questioning continued for more than two hours. Most were mundane: What’s your full name? Where are you from? Why did you join the military?
The son of bitch doesn’t even look tired, Seven thought. Let’s see what he is really made of. He leaned back in his chair and stretched his arms over his head. “It’s been a long day, Professor. I only have one more question for you.”
Brent nodded.
Seven leaned forward and burned a look into him. “If you were caught in an ambush, and you had to choose between saving yourself or your fellow soldiers, who would you choose?”
Brent leaned forward, didn’t flinch or hesitate before answering. “Myself,” he responded.
Seven was shocked at the answer. “I didn’t take you to be a coward, Lieutenant.” He opened Brent’s personnel file and started reading. When he was finished he looked up and said, “You’ve been involved in quite a few bad situations and every time you managed to bring your men home safely. Is that just a coincidence?”
Brent leaned even further across the table. “No coincidence, Seven.”
“Care to explain your answer then?”
“I can’t save my men if I’m dead.”
Seven stared at Brent with the look of stone cold killer. The face off lasted seconds, though it seemed like hours. Seven was the first to break the deadlock.
He packed his lip full of tobacco and said, “That will be all. There will be a debriefing on the final leg of this exercise at twenty-three hundred hours. You’re dismissed.”
Without expression, Brent stood up and left the room.
You’re a tough nut to crack, Professor, but I will crack you. As God is my witness, you will crack.