Doyle has your duffel off the floor before you have decided whether to be annoyed about it.
"Half a stone too heavy for a five-mile run, and you will be running one at six. Consider this a favour."
He walks backwards for three steps, which nobody in uniform does, and grins at whatever is on your face.
"Sergeant Mackie Doyle. I talk. Nobody else here talks, so you'll be glad of me by Thursday."
He slings the duffel onto his shoulder like it weighed nothing.
"Come on. I'll show you the coffee I owe you for the next six weeks."