GI JOE Season 3: episode 1.5
"The Flesh is Weak"
Arlington, VA - 2026 hrs.
General Hawk removed his reading glasses and massaged his weary eyes. Sitting at his desk, he looked over to the wall clock. His tired eyes could not focus sufficiently to read the clock face, so he replaced his glasses. When he realized the lateness of the hour, he rose from his chair to stretch his legs. The small confines of his temporary office didn't allow for too much movement, but it had a clear view of ground zero at the center of the Pentagon complex. He rubbed the back of his head as he gazed outside of the window, searching for an elusive itch that had plagued him all day, presumably from a bug bite. He felt the skin under his collar for the welt, and he yawned:
I need a vacation...
The phone rang. Hawk placed the receiver to his hear. "Hello?"
"General Hawk, it's Beach Head. Sorry to call you so late."
"It's alright Beach Head; what's going on?"
"You said to let you know if there were any interesting developments from Roadblock and Cover Girl's mission in Paris. Mainframe's been running queries against the DGSE database all afternoon. It turns out that there is evidence of organized Cobra activity."
"I think that qualifies as interesting."
Just then Hawk heard a knock. He could see that it was his intern-assistant through the half-open door, so he waved her in as he finished his conversation.
"Thanks, Beach Head. I'll fly back after my meeting first thing in the morning." He hung up the phone and acknowledged his assistant. "Jane, what are you still doing here?"
In answer, she placed two bags and a pair of chopsticks on the desk. "I had a feeling that you would still be working at this hour, so I decided to get some take-out and prep you for your presentation tomorrow."
General Hawk returned her cheerful smile, retrieved the chopsticks, and he peered into the grease-stained bag, saying, "Thanks. You didn't have to do this, but I'm glad you did... I'm hoping you weren't expecting me to eat all this food by myself?"
With a smirk on her face, Jane pulled out a pair of chopsticks that she had hidden in her pocket. Hawk chuckled, and they both sat down to eat. As usual, he found this pleasant young woman to be very helpful and extremely competent.
I should ask her to join my staff at Joe Headquarters.
The back of his neck started to burn, and he found himself looking over at Jane from across his desk. He wasn't used to seeing her in such a casual context. Her blonde hair, usually cropped into a bun, hung freely just past her shoulders. Her shirt was unbuttoned to just above the bra-line. He got a glimpse of her tanned legs as she crossed them, causing her skirt to hike up her thigh. The burn graduated to a dull sting; it was so distracting that he put his bowl down to scratch at it. Jane, perceiving Hawk's discomfort, rose from her chair, walked behind him and began to massage his shoulders. He started to protest, but her ministrations soon made all of the tension of the day melt away.
"This is an important meeting you have tomorrow," she whispered. "If it goes well, you should at least be able to get provisional budgetary approval for the next two quarters. This is critical for the future of G.I. Joe, isn't it?"
"Mmhmm."
"Then it is important that you get rested up for tomorrow."
"Not with the dreams I've been having lately."
"Oh really?" Her interest piqued, she returned to her seat. "Are you having nightmares?"
"No, but they are... unsettling."
"Unsettling?" she parroted with a sly grin. "They wouldn't be about me, would they?"
He blinked. "I... I think so, now that you mention it." Caught off-guard by the question, he averted his eyes from her prominent cleavage, nervously picking at the remaining grains of rice in his bowl with his chopsticks.
"There's nothing wrong with that; you should listen to your body. Right now it's telling you that you need to relax." She reached over, taking the rice bowl from his hand, beckoning him to gaze into her eyes. She didn't blink once. "I know many techniques on how to relax a man. I can show you if you like. Sometimes men in your position, with your responsibilities, need help doing that from time to time."
She took the last egg roll from the bowl, squeezing the tip between her thumb and index finger. He watched as she kicked her head back and dangled it teasingly over her open mouth. Then, ever so slowly, she inched it down her throat, and she swallowed it whole. dabbing a bit of the juice that dribbled off the corner of her full lips with a napkin.
Hawk's chopsticks slipped out of his inattentive grasp and clacked loudly against the desktop. "No, thank-you," he said, stifling a stutter. "I'm fine."
She pouted. "I understand... In that case, we'll have a nightcap. It will make you more pliable."
With that, she walked over to the file cabinet, where he kept a bottle of his favorite brandy, and returned with two empty glasses. She sat herself on the desktop and poured the brandy. Crossing her legs, her foot brushed against his calf
His eyes took in her perfect figure.
She smiled. "Do you realize how many times I've tried to get you to look at my legs? Every other man has stolen a glance at one time or another, but not you."
"P-pardon?"
She frowned. "I was starting to think that you didn't like me."
"You're beautiful."
She placed her finger under his chin, lifting his eyes into her hypnotic gaze. "You have given everything of yourself in defending your country, and yet those whom you protect fight against you. Instead of giving you your due, they conspire behind your back while they deprive you of the tools you need to do your job. Hawk, I can help you to take what is rightfully yours. You need me." She handed him the glass. "Do you want me?"
"I want..."
"You want me."
His neck on fire, Hawk took the proffered glass:
CLINK!
The distinctive sound of metal against glass made him blink, and he regarded his hand that held the brandy. The gold band around his finger, in contact with the glass, gleamed as it picked up the light from his desk lamp. He thumbed the ring, twirling it around his finger.
"...I want you... to leave now," he said, his attention remaining focused on the ring.
Her eyes widened. Impossible! And she reasserted her gaze, but his eyes were no longer receptive.
He rose from his chair, brushing past her. "I'll be going back to base tomorrow, so your services will no longer be required, Ms. Reese." And he resumed looking out of the window to ground zero.
Jane sheepishly buttoned her shirt, the footfalls of her high heels informing of her egress. At the door, she turned to regard Hawk one last time, but having his back to her, she was beneath his notice, and she left.
Hawk finished his drink; the ring clinked against the empty glass as he placed it on his desk. He smiled, relieved that the itching had stopped, and picked up the phone as he dialed out:
"Hello, sweetheart... no, everything's fine; I just wanted to hear your voice."
o-o-o-o-o-O-o-o-o-o-o
It was a quiet trip back to Jane Reese's apartment. She arrived at her modest dwelling in Washington D.C., tossing her keys in their usual spot on the kitchen counter; she lazily thumbed through the stack of the day's mail, but she had other things on her mind at the moment:
What did I do wrong? I thought he liked me...
She kicked off her shoes and relaxed on the sofa. Sitting quietly in the darkness, she flinched when the SAT/VID phone on her desk rang.
Shit... She rose from the sofa and activated the device. The voice on the other end did not sound happy.
"We've noticed that you've come home early."
"Yes, I had to abort the mission."
"What happened?"
"Hawk did not respond to the enzyme."
"Are you sure? Didn't he display any of the symptoms?"
"Yes: sleeplessness from unusual dream patterns, and itching on the sub-derma of the neck. The enzyme was delivered; it just didn't take."
"That's a first. We don't have many of those bugs left."
"You should know that he's leaving tomorrow. Once he's at Joe headquarters we can't touch him." She hesitated. "Have you considered plan B?"
"Yes, but we've decided against assassination. According to your reports, he has enough supporters to where his death would galvanize their resolve, thus giving GI Joe a second wind. Besides, they would just replace him with someone else – someone unpredictable. No, the last thing we need to deal with now is a martyr. But, don't worry; we have other contingencies to fall back on."
Jane breathed an audible sigh.
"You look relieved."
"No, it's just that there would've been no honor in assassination."
"I detect something more... You're not actually taking a liking to that old warhorse are you?"
"Of course not. I'm a professional."
"Very well, I'll report your findings to the others. Hail Cobra!"
"Hail Cobra," Jane said under her breath. She turned off the device.
~The End~