Steve stumbled as he took the last turn in the obstacle course and fell to the ground in a heap. Seconds later he was on his feet again racing towards the finish; breathing labored and ragged.
"Time. Two minutes forty-three seconds," David's voice called out.
Steve bent over his knees, huffing and struggling not to throw up. David approached from where he had been observing the course.
"You feel alright Blackwood?" he asked a trifle gruffly; there were other teams around.
Steve looked up at his commander from glassy feverish eyes and forced himself to stand up straight; his vision blurring and threatening to go black.
"Fine sir."
David took a step closer so that none could overhear them. "How long have you been sick Steve?"
Steve glanced around quickly, "a few days sir. This is the worst that its been."
David brought his hand up with a towel in it. To anyone looking on it would look like he was wiping some sweat from his soldiers brow, but David ran his wrist over his friends forehead.
"You're burning up Steve," David said quietly, and with a little disapproval.
"It's not that bad Boss," Steve said.
David leveled a look at his subordinate officer.
"Steve, I want you to go back to base and wait for me to get there. I will write you a week pass so that you can get well," David said as he pushed Steve's shoulder, steering him back toward the bunker.
It was a testament to how poor he felt that Steve didn't even argue; just turned and walked wearily back to base.
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