Those Meddling Kids

A Scooby-Doo/Red Dawn crossover

by Technomad

Chapter 1.

Freddy

Southern Colorado, Spring, 1985

"We'll pull in here and wait out the day," Fred Jones said, as he guided their vehicle into an abandoned gas station's garage. The others said nothing; they were very tired. Dawn was breaking in the east, and the tops of the hills were already turning red with the returning sunlight.

He looked at his companions. They were all changed greatly from the carefree investigating team they had once been. Before the war, they had traveled around on a stipend from a skeptics' group, solving mysteries and uncovering phony ghosts, hauntings and apparitions. Like everybody else in the United States, for them there was "before the war" and the present, which was like a nightmare they couldn't wake out of.

He remembered the day of the invasion vividly. All too well, in fact. He sometimes dreaded sleep, since when he slept, he often relived that day. They had been driving down a highway in eastern Colorado, on their way to a town where they had heard about a haunted mansion. It had been a routine trip, with Shaggy, Scooby, Velma and Daphne napping so that they'd be wide awake and alert after dark, until the first parachutists came out of the sky. Then things got confused, with bullets cracking through the air around the Mystery Machine, and all too often, thunking into the sides and back of the van.

Freddy couldn't quite figure out how he had managed to escape. He had pulled a u-turn that he'd never have tried under other circumstances, and swerved all over the road as he sped out of there, with Velma and Daphne screaming in terror and Shaggy and Scooby cowering in the back of the Mystery Machine. Luckily, Fred had long since taken the precaution of souping the Mystery Machine up, so that, while it was no hot rod, it could go a lot faster than the original designers had intended it to. Between that and luck he still couldn't quite believe, he had managed to outrun the invaders, and had come barrelling into an American-held town "like a bat out of Hell," as the awe-struck onlookers had told him when he'd finally managed to brake the van and stagger out.

Before he and his friends quite knew what had happened, they were in a large crowd of other people their own age, male and female alike, all holding up their hands and swearing the oath that made them members of the United States Army. He had never thought he would join up, and neither had his friends. Except for Shaggy.

Much to Freddy's surprise, Shaggy had turned out to be a veteran, and a combat veteran, to boot! He had been a friend of the other three in high school, but when Fred, Velma and Daphne had gone off to college, Shaggy had dropped out of sight. When he returned, right as they graduated, he was the lovable, cowardly, gluttonous guy they'd come to know again, and love. And he had Scooby-Doo with him. He and the dog shared a rare rapport. Fred had been rather curious about where Shaggy had been, but had accepted his explanation that while the others had been in college, he'd been "bumming around, doing this and that." The scars he'd seen on his friend's body were evidence that something more had been going on than "bumming around," but Fred held his peace. If Shaggy wanted to talk about it, he knew where Fred was, and they often had time and privacy.

It turned out that Shaggy had been in the Army, and had trained as a dog handler. He'd been in a lot of nasty, covert little actions, most of them in Central and South America, that he still couldn't talk about. The aftermath of the last one, which had left him with an honorable discharge, a Silver Star, and his scars, was why he ate so much. "Like, I was left behind in the jungle after we tangled with some FARC, and it took me a week to walk to friendly territory. I've never been so hungry in all my life, and when I found friendlies, I ate a whole box of rations at once. Ever since then, I've been hungry all the time." Fred's eyes had gone wide, and both Daphne and Velma had patted Shaggy, tears running down their cheeks.

The poor Mystery Machine was a write-off; it had bullet holes all through it, and that last frantic run had burned the engine out completely, since the cooling system had failed. Things were chaotic, but the four friends had been able to stay together, and to keep Scoob with them. After some very basic basic training, mostly consisting of weapons familiarization, they found that their reputations had preceded them.

They were now members of a deep-penetration recon team. In some ways, things hadn't changed. They still went to places they weren't really expected, and still investigated reports of out-of-place activities. However, they weren't investigating phony hauntings any more. These days, it was the invaders they were investigating. And instead of the old Mystery Machine, they were in a four-wheel-drive on-off-road vehicle. Their car, which they had dubbed "The Misery Machine," had apparently been a rich man's toy before being commandeered by the Army, to judge by the paint job that one could still see through gaps in the hastily-applied camouflage paint.

The garage they were in hadn't been used, from the look of it, since before the invasion. It was fairly clean-smelling. Shaggy, his CAR-15 at the ready, checked the whole place out, with Daphne covering him with her sniper rifle and Scooby lending assistance. While the place seemed to be empty, there had been times when they had been surprised. Quite a few people had run from the invaders, and if they couldn't make it to friendly territory, they often devolved into feral scavengers, dangerous if encountered unexpectedly.

When the garage proved to be empty, they set up to wait out the daylight. Moving by daylight, this deep in enemy-held territory, was dangerous. Velma, their radio operator and explosives expert, pulled out her radio and turned it on. First, it scanned known enemy frequencies, but nothing came out save static. Then, she turned on the transmitter. It was equipped with a "frequency jumper," synced to the receiver at the base they had started out from. This was to keep any enemies out there from accidentally tuning in and listening to things they weren't meant to.

"Meddlers to Candystore, Meddlers to Candystore. Come in, please, Candystore. Over."

After a minute, an answer came back. "Meddlers, this is Candystore. You're coming in five-by-five. Over."

"Authentication, Candystore." snapped Velma. "King to King's Pawn Two, over."

"Authentication, Meddlers. Queen to Queen's Bishop three, over." Velma nodded. That was the correct response, and she knew she had got the right station. Freddy relaxed slightly. Even though he knew the radio was a necessity, there was always the nagging fear that the enemy had somehow or other got the frequency jumper figured out, and instituted countermeasures.

"Meddlers to Candystore, we are at square D-5 of Chart 17, and are planning to spend the day. Please tell our hosts to be ready to receive us, over."

"Will do. Candystore, out."

"Meddlers, out." Velma shut down the radio, and stretched. " That room up there looks fairly comfortable. We can bed down there. Freddy, I know you're tired, so why don't you and Shag take a nap? Daphne and I can stay on guard, and if we need you we'll rouse you."

"Sounds good." While they had very little privacy from one another, there was little-to-no romantic activity between them. In the field, they were too busy and usually too tired, and behind the lines, there was no private space available for such things. Daphne broke out her weapon, a modified M-14 sniper rifle, and took up a position where she could see outside, while Velma took a post at a hole in the wll where she could see the other side of the garage. Freddy and Shaggy climbed up into the loft and were soon asleep. Scooby curled up next to Shaggy, as always.

Jed

Jed Eckert shut off the radio. "We just got word from our side. That recon unit we've been told to expect is not far away. About ten miles. We can make it there tonight. Let's pack up and get ready to go, people." As he'd expected, this met with a chorus of groans from the others. "Look, we've had a nice rest this winter. The Reds have probably figured we're either dead, or not in the area any more. It's time we got back into the war."

The group had formed more-or-less spontaneously in the wake of the invasion. Jed, his brother Matt, and several of their school classmates had fled ahead of the invaders when their hometown of Calumet was overrun by Soviet paratroops, hiding in the mountains. At first, all they'd wanted was to stay out of sight, but after an encounter with some stray Russians had turned into a firefight, leading to the executions of many of their neighbors, they had decided to fight back. They had taken in a few others, including Toni and Erica Mason, the granddaughters of a rancher they had visited, and Colonel Andrew Tanner, a downed USAF fighter pilot. They were known as the "Wolverines," after the Calumet High School mascot.

At first, their attacks had been surprisingly easy. They knew the country, the enemy did not, and most of the troops holding Calumet were not elite front-line soldiers, but what Colonel Tanner called "REMFs." But things had got steadily tougher, until after winter came, they had considered breaking out and getting to American lines. They had nearly done it, but their discovery of an abandoned ranch that had been owned by a piously LDS family had changed that plan. The family's year's supply of food was still there, and quite edible, for the most part. With that to draw on, the Wolverines had gone into what they called "hibernation," and Colonel Tanner had left to get through the lines on his own. They had never expected to hear from him again.

They had been hugely surprised when American Green Berets came down from the sky, bearing gifts. They had parachuted in very near their hideout, along with nearly a hundred pounds of plastic explosive and detonators and a radio and instructions in their use.

"We can't stay with you long, and from what we've heard, you're doing just fine on your own," they had said. "We've got other things we need to be doing, but we wanted to top you up on supplies. You can use this radio to get in touch with our side and let them know what's going on, and if you need anything else." Jed had thanked them, while privately wishing that they could either stay, or had brought more food with them. The ranchers' food was good, but was running a bit low.

The Wolverines set off into the gathering dusk. They walked single-file along an obscure deer track. There was just enough moonlight for them to see their way, and they knew the way. They had used it many times, almost always under cover of darkness. Jed sometimes reflected that their name, "The Wolverines," wasn't really applicable any more. Wolverines, from what he knew of them, were mainly diurnal animals, and he and his comrades had become creatures of the night, more at home in the dark than not. Darkness was now their friend.

For miles, they walked, sometimes following a deserted ranch road, at other times striking off across country. They had been given night-vision goggles by their benefactors, but they did not use them often; the batteries had limited lives, and they could not count on recharging. By this time, they were accustomed enough to the dark to not need artificial help, at least on a moonlit night.

The Communists did not usually move about by night. When they did, they did so in vehicles. Those made more than enough noise, and were road-bound enough, for the Wolverines to have no trouble hiding themselves and letting their enemies go by. Every time the Communists made an uneventful trip, they relaxed just that little bit more, thinking that the Wolverines were far away or dead. Jed intended that they continue to think that, until the time to strike at them came. The more the enemy were off their guard, the easier it would be. Unlike a conventional commander, he did not have lives to spare, and he treasured everybody who had entrusted their fates to his wisdom. He hadn't been close to all of them before the war. He hadn't even known Toni or Erica then. But now they were his family.

The night was calm around them. Occasionally, Jed would hear a night-flying bird flittering around, and once or twice he thought he saw deer. Since the invasion, there had been a lot less hunting; the remaining ranchers and farmers were closely watched and had no firearms, and town dwellers were kept strictly within town limits. That meant that the Wolverines could supplement their diet, when they chose to. They often did hunt, but did not use firearms for that any more. Firearms were too noisy and the Communists were often listening for strange shots in the hills. They had figured out ways to trap deer, and had other noiseless ways to take down game.

Several times, they passed deserted ranches. It made Jed sad to see them, with their houses burnt out or beginning to collapse, their meadows increasingly overgrown, their machinery rusting. While the Communists had not begun to formally collectivize farming, Jed knew that would come if they stayed on and managed to keep control. They were too heavily invested in that system to ever consider alternatives, even when those alternatives were all that kept the Red homelands themselves from starving.

Around two AM, the Wolverines came to where they had been told to expect the recon team. It was an abandoned gas station, sitting forlornly beside a deserted side-road. At Jed's gesture, the Wolverines all took cover, and Jed gave the whistle that he'd been told to give, to signal the recon team that they had arrived and were friendly.

Freddy

Freddy was awakened from a doze by a stick poking his shoulder. "Fred!" Instinctively, he rolled to his feet, reaching for his pistol, before he saw who it was. "It's me, Velma! We heard the signal whistle just now!" Fred padded over to a window, staying out of sight. He gave the counter-whistle, signalling that they were there and all was well. Then he turned to Velma. "Velma, get the others up. We're about to have company."

A few minutes later, Daphne opened the door, while Shaggy covered her with his CAR-15. A group of people materialized from the bushes, looking around cautiously and keeping their weapons ready as they trooped on in.

Fred inspected the newcomers closely as they came in. They were about the same age as he and his friends, and looked to be tough as nails. "You're the Wolverines? Pleased to meet you. I'm Fred Jones, this is Velma Dinkley, Shaggy Rogers, Daphne Blake, and our dog is called Scooby-Doo." Fred's group all nodded, greeting their new allies. Both groups looked each other over.

Jed

Jed gave the recon team a once-over, and approved of what he saw. They looked tough, mean and piratical, with uniforms that showed signs of having seen hard use, and the same wary look in their eyes that he knew he and his own group showed. "I'm Jed Eckert. This is my brother, Matt. The rest of us are Arturo Mondragon…"

"Everybody calls me Aardvark." Jed nodded in acknowledgement, and went on:

"Daryl and Danny Bates, Toni and Erica Mason, and Robert Morris. This area's our home. We come from Calumet. That's about twenty miles off to the northeast."

"Pleased to meet you all," Fred seemed to be the recon team's spokesman. "You know where it is we're to go?"

"Yeah. We can take you there. It's too far to go by night, though. We'll hole up here till tomorrow evening. We never like to show ourselves by daylight."

Fred nodded. "Good idea, that. We like moving by night ourselves. We used to do our work by night, back before the war."

"What did you do?" asked Matt.

"We were working for a skeptics' group, and we traveled around, investigating haunted houses and things like that," Fred explained. "We found an awful lot of phonies, but no real ghosts."

"Hey, I've heard of you!" piped up Daryl. "You were the people who unmasked the El Raton Phantom! I was in town when that happened, but I don't think I saw you!"

"Yeah, that was us," Fred confirmed. "Some idiot thought he could scare people away from his meth lab by pretending to be a ghost of a Spanish rancher."

"What an idiot!" Matt scoffed. "Ghosts attract attention, if anything! Did he really think people were so scared of ghosts that they'd get out of there and leave him and his meth lab alone? I'm surprised he didn't have half the damn fools in New Mexico trampling up there to get a look at a real live ghost!"

"Like, you'd be surprised to find out how many people think posing as a ghost will scare people away," Shaggy spoke up. "Sometimes it's so they can buy a place up cheap because 'nobody'll want it because it's, like, haunted' and other times it's to keep folks from finding out whatever evil deeds they're up to."

Everybody snorted at such idiocy. Robert paused from his usual obsessive cleaning of his rifle to say: "Me, I'd set up a haunting at the other end of town if I wanted to keep people away from something I was up to."

Toni put in: "I wonder if the Reds would be scared by fake ghosts?"

"They've certainly made enough of them. And quite a few of those ghosts would be good and mad at the people who killed them, wouldn't they?" mused Daphne.

"We may need to keep that idea in mind," Jed said, hoping to drag the conversation back on track. "You were told to meet us here, and we were told to meet you here. What's up?"

Fred went over to the "Misery Machine" and pulled out a map. "We're not too far from Pueblo here. We need to get in there and find out what happened to the Pershing missiles there."

That brought general silence. Finally, Velma spoke up. "Pershing…missiles?"

"Yeah. They were stored there when the invasion happened, and we aren't sure if the people in charge of them managed to disable them in time. Even if they did, there might be enough parts around for the Reds to put some of them together. With those things, they could hit far behind U.S. lines."

"Do they have nuclear warheads?" At that question, everybody turned pale.

"No," Fred hastened to reassure his friends. "Those were kept at other places. The ones that were in areas taken by the Reds were definitely disarmed." He was greeted by skeptical looks. "Hey, otherwise wouldn't they have used them on us by now?"

"Well, yeah…" Nobody had a counter-argument for that.

Fred said: "Look, we don't have enough night left to make it to Pueblo, at least if this map I have is accurate. How's about we hole up for the day and head out tonight?"

Jed shook his head. "We have ways of getting around by day. All the ranchers around here hate the Reds. Even so, the Reds do have to let them move things around in their trucks, or nobody in their zone's going to eat. We can all sneak in close with some of them."

END Chapter One

(Author's note: I pulled this and fixed a few minor errors, mostly because I finally found a website that could give me all the Wolverines' real full names. wasn't any help, but Wikiquote was.)