The Assault Course (Open)

I roll my eyes and jog after him

When Sam led Gen and Zan to the assault course, someone was already there-a man of perhaps twenty. He was six feet tall with slick blond hair, gray eyes, a fairly handsome face and a shotgun slung over his back. The strangest thing was the man's attire-as opposed to casual clothing, he wore an olive dress shirt and brown slacks.
Sam stopped. "Who are you?"

"Malcolm Reed, son of Athena," Malcolm responded in his distinctive Scottish accent. "Did you build this?"
"Hephaestus and I, yeah," Sam replied.
Malcolm nodded. "Well it's a nice piece of work, lad."
"Thanks. Same to your wardrobe," Sam remarked sarcastically.
Malcolm chuckled. "Hah. I get that a lot."

Gen couldn't help but wolf whistle. This place were wicked. And by wicked, she means things that she always wanted to have during one of the battles. "Nice fort.", she commented.

~so sorry!

OOC: Just waiting for Lady Roxanne to post. Since Zan is with the group, I'd like her to comment before we move on.

"If ya don't mind, lad, I'd like to take a crack at it," Malcolm said.
Sam tossed him a pistol. "Don't forget the targets."
Malcolm looked the gun over. "Beretta 92FS. Nine millimetre, 17-round capacity. Not bad. I'll make sure to use it well."
Sam tossed Malcolm a sixty-pound backpack and then set his watch. "You're wearing this too. Now go."
Malcolm took off, vaulting over the fence, climbing the walls and trying his best to bullseye every target. He didn't get dead centre every time, though.

As he reached the dirt pits topped with barbed wire, Malcolm threw off his backpack and army crawled the rest of the way. He got up and shot the last two targets. "Time?"
Sam stopped his watch. "A minute forty one. Decent. Okay Zan, your turn."

"A minute forty. Beat him out by one second," Sam said. "And no, I don't have any food."
"Eh, I have an apple." Malcolm reached into his pocket, produced a Macintosh and tossed it to Zan.

"I'm gonna be pitching this to as many cabin leaders as I can," Sam said. "Hopefully we can get a couple more built and start incorporating 'em into the standard training regimen. It'd be nice if you told your cabinmates, Zan. In the meantime, I'm gonna run my own course. Get my time, Malcolm."
Sam put the backpack on, cocked his pistol and took off. His speed, precision and excellence in parkour were clearly evident.
"One minute thirty four," Malcolm said when Sam had finished. "Smashing job."

Malcolm was surprisingly unfazed by Zan's outburst, as he took hold of her knife hand and slowly pushed it away from this throat. "If you say so, lass," he said reasonably.
This guy has no panic factor, does he? Sam thought, watching the events unfold. He was going to step in until Malcolm responded diplomatically to take the tension down a notch.

Sam shrugged. "Unless you'd like to run the course. But that leg tells me otherwise. Yeah, I guess we're done here. Tell your cabinmates if you will, huh?"
"Sure thing," Malcolm said.