Webster Groves is a small suburb nestled just outside of St. Louis that has still somehow managed to keep out the normal run of suburban sprawl; there are no massive strip malls or housing developments, and the nearest scattering of "big box" stores is located down highway 44. Locally, Webster is famous for the left wing political views of the people that live there, so I was very surprised to learn that one of the toughest officers of the GI JOE Team, the green beret known as "Flint", lives there. He's insisted I use his code name for our interviews. His wife of many years, the former Joe known as "Lady Jaye" does not wish to be interviewed and is out right now. Flint and I meet behind his large two story house on the expansive deck built into it.

The reason I got out of the army? I guess what it boils down to is disgust; I was in for almost fifteen years, and most of it was with the Joes. The GI JOE team was the most outstanding group of soldiers ever assembled, bar none. That's not arrogance talking, you understand, but the truth. There isn't a single Joe I wouldn't stack up against anyone else in their MOS*, or even their sub MOS*; hell, that tells you something right there doesn't it? You know how many military units insist their troops are qualified in more than one Military specialty?

Flint holds up a hand with thumb and index finger curled to make a "0"

That's how good we were. But after Cobra Island II, we decommission, and off I go to the regular army again. And first thing that happens is some scumbag lieutenant colonel calls me into his office and tell me to forget all that "GI JOE garbage" and that things were different in his army. And I realized he was right. With the Joe's gone, all that was left was the giant corporation we have that occasionally masquerades as an army instead of a sales team for Lockheed Martin. This guy was a west pointer, all set to make general, and retire to a nice job with Blackwater or whoever, and I realize that it really was his army. A nice suit and tie operation; except the suit and tie happen to be dark green. I went home that night, talked it over with Allison and the next night I resigned my commission and mustered out ASAP. Since then I've been keeping to myself; I managed to parlay my GI Bill into a nice loan to open up a nice couple of restaurants, which have done well enough, as you could probably guess.

Flint waves at the house, the two car garage, and carefully manicured lawn.

Hell I even tried to get Road Black to come on as head chef, but some restaurant down in New Orleans snapped him up right out of the army.

We chat on for awhile, sipping on our diet cokes, until things grow quiet. Now seems a good time to ask: "Do you still bear any resentment towards your old enemies in COBRA?"

Flint: (laughs) You're not the first one to ask, and the answer, I'm afraid, is a story. When we first moved in here, I thought I recognized one of my neighbors. I didn't think anything of it at the time; things were hectic, moving stuff into the house, getting the kids settled, etcetera, so I pretty much forgot about it. That week, someone threw us a welcome to the neighborhood party; it was great, really. All of these strangers coming up to introduce themselves, their kids playing with ours, beer and hot dogs flowing like water, a real American party, right?(laughs) I ask around between all the introductions and I find out the party was put together by the guy I thought I knew, and it turns out his name is Fred Broca (Fred Broca was a popular pseudonym among the Crimson Guard-the elite troops and spies of the COBRA group), I think you can imagine my reaction to that-I went looking for this Siege* with blood in my eye. He found me first. He said he knew who I was, and that he understood if I wanted to take him down. I almost did too; I actually was planning to knock this guy out and drag him down to the police station, and god only knows how that would have went!

But I stopped for a second and realized that my reaction was more out of habit than any real animosity. I looked around at Jaye and the kids; I looked over at this old COBRA and asked him if he had a family. He said yes, and indicated a good looking woman and a pair of teenagers mingling at the party. He said that he'd met them after he'd been assigned to the area by COBRA command; he said they didn't know he was a Crimson Guardsmen, they didn't know a thing about COBRA and I actually believed him, he was so earnest; it's a good thing too, because he was telling the truth.

Anyway, I looked him in the eye; he told me that COBRA was finished, the Commander was gone, and the war we'd been fighting for so long was over. He said he'd hoped that he could just live out the rest of his life in peace, put his past behind him, and just live life, y'know? But then I showed up, and he knew his past was going to catch up with him and he was going to have to suffer the consequences of his actions. I asked him why he hadn't just fled when I moved in, bugged out as quick as possible for the hill or something. He said that he couldn't just leave his family, and he couldn't tear apart their lives because of his past. That he looked me in the eye and said "Just make it look like an accident."

Flint shakes his head.

It was at that point that I realized I had a choice, keep living my life the way the US Government wanted me too, or act like a Joe. A good US citizen would have either killed that ex-spy or turned him in. A good Joe would have used his head and come to what he thought was the right decision. My head told me that COBRA was gone and whatever happened, this guy was harmless now. I told him that I appreciated the party, the food was great, and I asked him if he wanted to grab a beer and talk about the old times. You should have seen the look on his face; it was truly priceless. We've been getting along well since then, in fact, you should see us on Halloween. Both of us in our old uniforms, walking down the street; the kids around here love it, the parents think its funny to see these too old guys dress up for Halloween, but the two of think of it as a kind of symbol, a private treaty, almost. Our war's over, and we can live in peace.

Flint snorts in disdain.

It's not like the world's going to lack for wars nowadays, is it?

*Military Operating Specialty

*Siege- Pronunciation of the words C-G for "Crimson Guard"