ComCamGuy
Remote Paramedical pain in the ass
The training center wasn’t located in the best part of town. It was an old car dealership that had seen better days. It was old enough and near enough to the center of this old town that vertical space was as important as horizontal. The dealership had a multistory parking garage next to it, or it was in the bottom floor of a parking garage. At this point it would take research to find out the order of things. The old glass front show room was spit up into a storefront and classrooms, the glass having been replaced by glass block years ago. The vehicle service area had been transformed into several hands on skills training areas with different environments such as house, office environment, and even an outdoor terrain/canyon set. All of these had solid walls designed to stop simunitions to enable force on force training evolutions. The bay was also tall enough to have catwalks for the instructors to observe the events. The second floor over the dealership was where the first crossover between the parking area and the enclosed part was. This level was used by the owner as his garage and storage area, to include some of the supplies for the store and classes. The third floor was where the owners apt was, accessible by elevator, stairwell and the parking garage. The fourth floor was the roof, and the top of the parking structure as one large parking platform. Along the back edge of the roof, there was an old helicopter fuselage bolted down to provide a place for fastrope, hoist ops and repelling. The school was built be several very special operators who had retired in the local area just in time to get in on the ridiculously high paid contract work following 9/11. They did contractor time in the Middle East, taught many of those that then got some of those contracts, and got many contracts from the government to train those that the government hired. They were at the right corner of the supply vs demand vs opportunity bar graph. As the needs and course load increased and the day to day operations built up, the original crew started to look at more instructors to do the teaching and broadening the knowledge pool. They reached out to friends still on active duty to get names and contacts for good candidates that would fit in with the organization, had some real world experience and most importantly, could teach. This is where Garen came into the picture.
He and the wife had picked a bit of land near Seacouver for the homestead. He figured he could get a job doing EMS or something to pay the bills and keep him in play money while His wife finished up her last assignment in England. He got a call from a friend, and then another friend, both being squirrely about why they called, but quite curious in what his retirement plans were. They asked things like “how long is your Top Secret clearance good for?” and “Would you be willing to do some work you couldn’t talk about?”. You see, most of the courses the training center were holding were for different agencies that required non-discloser agreements. You wouldn’t find a social media page about the center, much less any of the classes or who attended. It was some of this sort of tight lipped focus that enabled this group to survive the hostile events and media circus with the Blackwater Agency and others. He was driven to the center by one of his friends that had recommended him. The complete non-descript appearance of the location, combined with the extreme vetting impressed him. He was fairly surprised to have been contacted for this opportunity. He did not directly know the senior staff but was aware of them by reputation. He accepted the offer for a provisional position on the instructional staff, pending a conversation with the wife. This would be an opportunity to continue doing the parts of the job he loved without a great deal of the parts he hated.
After a long conversation with his wife, they came to a conclusion that it would be a good thing for both of them. He would get to teach and have some opportunities, without the deployments and hazards they were wanting to retire from. This would also allow them to make more improvements to their private getaway land faster. This was one of those decisions that, even though they did not seek it, the fates placed it in their lap. It felt right to them.
He began with assisting with simple courses, and as he gained experience with the curriculum and the needs and desires of their clients, he began to get more and more respect and acceptance from the other senior instructors. His opinions were seen as valid and he moved up the ranks within the company. One of the turning points was when he was approached by one of the plank holders with an offer to become one of the owners as a junior manager. This placed him into the decision making loop. This was good and bad. Now he started to have some of the senior NCO type of responsibilities that he had retired from, but it also gave him some flexibility to actually fix problems. Several years in, and shortly after moving up in position, he was faced with an instructor shortage. A few had decided to move on to lucrative positions in larger training companies that were still working large downrange contracts. That was not what this center was about, and it didn’t pay like a corporation. He began reaching out to some of the junior troops he had worked with, several of whom had started to reach the retirement point. Many were not interested but one or two were. He vetted them, passed them through the hiring committee (himself, the other two junior partners and the two senior partners) and brought them on board. They worked out quite well, so he was given the added task of senior instructor recruiter. When he and the wife had heard about Kara’s situation, he was perfectly positioned to spring into action. The good thing about the company not being too big, he was able to gather them, lay out his plan, and get their approval, all in one afternoon.
For Kara, he broke a few rules, bent a few more and stretched his envelope of power. He didn’t lie to the company. He wasn’t sure if she could get a TS anymore with her PTSD Med Retirement, but he could tell them she would rather go to the grave than break her word. He also told them if anything went wrong with her on the staff, he would fix it, and if he couldn’t he would resign and take all the blame. The group was stunned, impressed and a little scared at the level of passion he was expressing. They asked him who she was that he would fall on his sword for her. He told them that it was complicated but he would willingly lay down his life for her, as he knew she would for him. He didn’t tell them that it was the same way for his wife and her. He knew they wouldn’t understand that bond. Hell, he and his wife didn’t necessarily understand it themselves, they had just known and accepted it.
His wife had flown out to meet up with Kara and start getting her gathered up in preparation for moving to Seacouver. After getting the first Intel on the ground from her, Garen got his plan in motion. He went to the car dealer the company dealt with and bought the same type of truck they were using, with all the same upgrades and accessories. He then drove out to meet up with them. Once there, some of his wife’s descriptions over the phone made more sense. Hurt, angry and rough, her condition was painful to him. Later that night at the hotel, he held his wife as she cried, torn up by what had been done to Kara. He promised her that they would help make her better again if it could be done.
All of Kara’s possessions fit in one duffle and a small three day pack, the last visible vestiges of her military time other than the dog tag and KIA bracelet. She had that thousand yard stare so common in the pictures of the Marines in the Pacific in places like Guadalcanal and Tarawa. Her clothes hung like sackcloth on her too thin frame. They threw the luggage into the truck and drove back toward Seacouver. Along the way, he filled her in on the job, what she would be teaching, how much she would get paid, and a hundred other things. By the end of the three day drive, there was a glimmer of spark showing in her, every now and then.
When they got to the house, they set her up in the spare bedroom, right across the hall from them. Over the next month, they worked at getting her back to feeling safe and secure. This involved a lot of eating as a group, walks on the land and forest, some spiritual focus and coming to grips with past events. She was finding her focus, regaining her confidence in herself. She started training herself again, and through this, his wife returned to practicing some of her old skills. Like a physical therapist helping someone recover from surgery, they worked her into fighting shape, both physically and mentally. By the time she was ready to start work, she was in many ways back to her old level of skill, but with an even more mature mindset. Her laser focus was infectious. She proved to be an excellent teacher, so Garen didn’t have to fall on his sword. He told her that the truck was a company truck, and if she ended up liking it, she could pay him /the company and keep it for her own. They helped her get some land by the sea for an Airstream they had helped her rebuild and she was content, on the verge of almost happy at times.
Garen had become one of the more senior instructors, and several, maybe even half of the instructors on staff were ones he had recruited. Kara was back into her element and doing well, the company, while not growing by leaps and bounds, was a solid creature within its realm, and life was fairly stable. And then the Earthquake hit.
He and the wife had picked a bit of land near Seacouver for the homestead. He figured he could get a job doing EMS or something to pay the bills and keep him in play money while His wife finished up her last assignment in England. He got a call from a friend, and then another friend, both being squirrely about why they called, but quite curious in what his retirement plans were. They asked things like “how long is your Top Secret clearance good for?” and “Would you be willing to do some work you couldn’t talk about?”. You see, most of the courses the training center were holding were for different agencies that required non-discloser agreements. You wouldn’t find a social media page about the center, much less any of the classes or who attended. It was some of this sort of tight lipped focus that enabled this group to survive the hostile events and media circus with the Blackwater Agency and others. He was driven to the center by one of his friends that had recommended him. The complete non-descript appearance of the location, combined with the extreme vetting impressed him. He was fairly surprised to have been contacted for this opportunity. He did not directly know the senior staff but was aware of them by reputation. He accepted the offer for a provisional position on the instructional staff, pending a conversation with the wife. This would be an opportunity to continue doing the parts of the job he loved without a great deal of the parts he hated.
After a long conversation with his wife, they came to a conclusion that it would be a good thing for both of them. He would get to teach and have some opportunities, without the deployments and hazards they were wanting to retire from. This would also allow them to make more improvements to their private getaway land faster. This was one of those decisions that, even though they did not seek it, the fates placed it in their lap. It felt right to them.
He began with assisting with simple courses, and as he gained experience with the curriculum and the needs and desires of their clients, he began to get more and more respect and acceptance from the other senior instructors. His opinions were seen as valid and he moved up the ranks within the company. One of the turning points was when he was approached by one of the plank holders with an offer to become one of the owners as a junior manager. This placed him into the decision making loop. This was good and bad. Now he started to have some of the senior NCO type of responsibilities that he had retired from, but it also gave him some flexibility to actually fix problems. Several years in, and shortly after moving up in position, he was faced with an instructor shortage. A few had decided to move on to lucrative positions in larger training companies that were still working large downrange contracts. That was not what this center was about, and it didn’t pay like a corporation. He began reaching out to some of the junior troops he had worked with, several of whom had started to reach the retirement point. Many were not interested but one or two were. He vetted them, passed them through the hiring committee (himself, the other two junior partners and the two senior partners) and brought them on board. They worked out quite well, so he was given the added task of senior instructor recruiter. When he and the wife had heard about Kara’s situation, he was perfectly positioned to spring into action. The good thing about the company not being too big, he was able to gather them, lay out his plan, and get their approval, all in one afternoon.
For Kara, he broke a few rules, bent a few more and stretched his envelope of power. He didn’t lie to the company. He wasn’t sure if she could get a TS anymore with her PTSD Med Retirement, but he could tell them she would rather go to the grave than break her word. He also told them if anything went wrong with her on the staff, he would fix it, and if he couldn’t he would resign and take all the blame. The group was stunned, impressed and a little scared at the level of passion he was expressing. They asked him who she was that he would fall on his sword for her. He told them that it was complicated but he would willingly lay down his life for her, as he knew she would for him. He didn’t tell them that it was the same way for his wife and her. He knew they wouldn’t understand that bond. Hell, he and his wife didn’t necessarily understand it themselves, they had just known and accepted it.
His wife had flown out to meet up with Kara and start getting her gathered up in preparation for moving to Seacouver. After getting the first Intel on the ground from her, Garen got his plan in motion. He went to the car dealer the company dealt with and bought the same type of truck they were using, with all the same upgrades and accessories. He then drove out to meet up with them. Once there, some of his wife’s descriptions over the phone made more sense. Hurt, angry and rough, her condition was painful to him. Later that night at the hotel, he held his wife as she cried, torn up by what had been done to Kara. He promised her that they would help make her better again if it could be done.
All of Kara’s possessions fit in one duffle and a small three day pack, the last visible vestiges of her military time other than the dog tag and KIA bracelet. She had that thousand yard stare so common in the pictures of the Marines in the Pacific in places like Guadalcanal and Tarawa. Her clothes hung like sackcloth on her too thin frame. They threw the luggage into the truck and drove back toward Seacouver. Along the way, he filled her in on the job, what she would be teaching, how much she would get paid, and a hundred other things. By the end of the three day drive, there was a glimmer of spark showing in her, every now and then.
When they got to the house, they set her up in the spare bedroom, right across the hall from them. Over the next month, they worked at getting her back to feeling safe and secure. This involved a lot of eating as a group, walks on the land and forest, some spiritual focus and coming to grips with past events. She was finding her focus, regaining her confidence in herself. She started training herself again, and through this, his wife returned to practicing some of her old skills. Like a physical therapist helping someone recover from surgery, they worked her into fighting shape, both physically and mentally. By the time she was ready to start work, she was in many ways back to her old level of skill, but with an even more mature mindset. Her laser focus was infectious. She proved to be an excellent teacher, so Garen didn’t have to fall on his sword. He told her that the truck was a company truck, and if she ended up liking it, she could pay him /the company and keep it for her own. They helped her get some land by the sea for an Airstream they had helped her rebuild and she was content, on the verge of almost happy at times.
Garen had become one of the more senior instructors, and several, maybe even half of the instructors on staff were ones he had recruited. Kara was back into her element and doing well, the company, while not growing by leaps and bounds, was a solid creature within its realm, and life was fairly stable. And then the Earthquake hit.
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