What Happens In Vegas. . .
Disclaimer: I do not own "G.I. Joe." That belongs to Hasbro.
The sun was throwing shadows across the desert as it sank behind the mountains in the distance. Dusty looked at his watch. If he hurried, he could have himself and his teammates back into Rachel or even Vegas so they could salvage a little of St. Patrick's Day.
The sound of Shipwreck's voice brought the young soldier back to reality.
"C'mon Dusty, just a few feet further," the sailor said, leaning forward from the backseat of the Jeep.
"That's a line I'm not crossing," Dusty answered.
"Why not? There's not even a real line there."
Dusty rolled his eyes. "No, but you see that white Jeep up there on the hill? Cross that line and they'll be on us so quick you won't believe it."
"Uh huh," the sailor said, clearly thinking up something that would get them all in trouble. What could it possibly hurt?
A half hour later, he and his companions were in a holding cell inside Nellis Air Force Base.
Firewall was sitting Indian-style on the floor, hooked up to her MP3 player, happily ignoring the three squabbling men. Falcon was trying to keep them separated but wasn't having much luck. She wasn't about to mention the fact she'd paid Shipwreck to cross the invisible line that separated Nellis, also known as Groom Lake from the rest of the United States. So far, Dusty was directing all his anger at the sailor.
"You know, this is all your fault," Dusty said after a particularly long, heavy silence.
"I'm completely blameless in all of this," Shipwreck said. "If it's anybody's fault, it's yours for dragging us out here."
Falcon decided to step in before the hostilities escalated. The last thing they needed was a fight. They were in enough trouble already.
"Guys, enough is enough. It's nobody's fault, OK?"
His words fell on deaf ears. Dusty jumped Shipwreck and wrestled the sailor to the floor, trying to wrap his hands around his throat. Falcon threw himself at Dusty, trying to pull him off Shipwreck but didn't have much success. "Firewall!" he finally yelled. "Help me!"
She stood up but got knocked down when the tussle came her way. At the same time, two of the base MPs came to break up the scuffle.
Guns drawn, they opened the door to the cell. Dusty let go of Shipwreck and caught the sailor's eye. He nodded in the direction of the guards, made sure Falcon caught his drift and then all hell broke loose.
The two caught the unsuspecting guards by surprise, taking them down easy. Falcon threw Firewall over his shoulder and they ran.
Later. . .
It was last call at The Little A'Lee'Inn in Rachel. Most of the St. Pat's revelers had already gone home with the exception of the four Joes surrounded by empties.
"Nobody's gonna believe this," Dusty said. "We were actually inside Area 51 and fought our way out. I don't think anybody's ever done that before."
"Who are we going to tell? If anyone finds out, there'll be so much hell to pay. . ."
He trailed off when he saw Shipwreck counting a wad of bills Firewall had just handed him.
The sailor tucked the money into his jacket.
"What was that for?" Falcon asked.
"Nothing," Shipwreck answered innocently.
Dusty was frowning. "That's a whole lot of money for nothing."
Shipwreck shrugged. "The kid owed me some money. That's all."
Falcon and Dusty both looked in Firewall's direction. She was biting her lip.
"Is there something you want to tell us?" Falcon asked the young hacker.
"All right, all right, it's all my fault!" she blurted. "I knew we were coming out here. . .I wanted to get inside, but I didn't think it would end up like this! I paid Shipwreck to get me inside. I did get some good pictures though. . ."
Dusty's jaw dropped. Falcon was surprised but recovered quickly. "You had a camera? Where did you hide it? Wait, don't answer that. I don't think I want to know. Look, let's just drop this, all right? What happened happened and it's over now. Let's just forget about it."
Dusty raised an eyebrow. "Forget about it? Area 51?"
Falcon sighed and took a pull off his Bud. "OK, don't forget about it. Just don't talk about it. That's an order." He stood, threw down enough money to cover their tab. "C'mon. Let's get out of here."
The other Joes followed him outside to Dusty's waiting Jeep and they all climbed in. Dusty fired up the vehicle and pointed it toward Vegas. They traveled in silence, enjoying the cool desert night until Shipwreck spoke up.
"You know, that wasn't such a bad way to spend St. Patrick's Day," he said. "After all, how many people can say they've seen real little green men?"