As you know my story doesn't go in original release date of the cartoons... Oh yeah fair warning Ninja's extremely athletic, great practitioners of the Martial Arts, but they are not mystical warriors if you want that, read the comic books, watch 80's movies. Trying to think what else I do that goes off script that might make people mad... oh alot. Sorry this is my world, this is how I see things. Fair warning you don't like my Snake Eyes in this your really not going to like him in Intro to a Theme.
I know things are going slow lately... new Job and yes I have a lot of reading to catch up on you guys have given me a lot problem is I no longer have any down time hopefully I have a vacation coming up.. Oh I don't. Oh I have even more things going on.. FML FML FML.
Read, Enjoy, know that flames will be met with Molotov Cocktails. ;)
Staff Sergeant Wayne Sneedon walked into the PIT shaking his head at the video monitor; on the screen was the latest attack Cobra had tried to pull on the people of the world. "A weather dominator? A weather dominator? What are they going to do for an encore bring back dinosaurs?"
"It is feasible, I mean, with today's DNA research and the advent of Dolly. If viable Dinosaur DNA is found, it is possible to clone them," Airtight explained. "Which would be AWESOME!"
Beachhead stopped in front of the door to his office and shook his head. The door once read, "Mortuary Affairs", but, someone had taken masking tape covering those words writing in big, bold, block letters "The Spooky People". Two names under the sign were subject to the masking tape treatment: CPT Michael "Cerebrus" Jacobs, OIC. Under his name, someone had covered the name and codename off the NCOIC, SFC Tommy "Stormshadow" Arashikage, and written Traitor.
Below Traitor was SSGT Wayne "Beachhead" Sneedon, and below his name was a myriad of duct tape was SGT. Alison "Lady Jaye" Hart-Burnett. He smiled, glad to see the Specialist had gotten her Sergeant stripe since he was gone. But damn, Cerebrus was going to be missed.
He stopped, looking at the sign that had hung below the names since Lady Jaye had set up shop in the offices there. "DO NOT PUT LEAVE REQUESTS ON LADY J.'s DESK. GIVE THEM TO LT. BELVINS. ALL WEAPONS IN NEEDING OF REPAIRED WILL GOTO THE ARMORY."
He stopped, pulled the sign down, and examined the posting. There was writing on the sign, in red ink; it looked like Lady Jaye's grammar had been corrected. At the top of the page was a big letter C. What the hell had he missed while on medical leave?
"Good, Beach, you're back. On my six," Duke walked past him carrying a Styrofoam container from the DFAC. "You are going to love this."
Beachhead found himself groaning. This was Duke's comment when he knew you were going to hate something with such a passion you were going to want to poke your eye out with, well, a hot poker.
He followed the First Sergeant up to the catwalk that circled the command floor; this was where the command staff's offices and smaller briefing rooms were. "Jaye get her –" Before the Ranger could finish his question about Lady Jaye getting promoted Hawk's voice boomed out of the Ready room. Both men shared a confused look; they could have sworn the General was in Washington.
Realization dawned on them at the same time. "Lady Jaye," Duke growled.
Beachhead followed Duke into the ready room to see, sitting on a table top, cross-legged, hands waving, was the team's covert-ops specialist. Though her lips were moving and the noise was coming out of her mouth it was not her smoke and whiskey voice, what emanated from her vocal cords was that of their Commanding Officer General Clayton "Hawk" Abernathy.
"JAYE!" Duke barked. "Quit screwing around."
Jaye looked over her shoulder smiling sweetly, "Sure thing, Top." Yet again, it wasn't her voice, but the First Sergeant's echoing back at him.
"Tell me why I put up with your crap?" Duke sighed opening the container of food and scowling at the contents.
Closing the lid of the container back, he sighed. Snake-Eye's hands moved quickly, and Duke seemed to have a hard time keeping up with what the Joe was saying. "Slow down Snake-Eyes; I'm catching on, but not that fast."
"He said that you put up with her crap, because, she knows where you buried the bodies." Beachhead turned at the sound of a familiar voice.
Beachhead took in the dark-haired man standing next to Lady Jaye. He was average height, with bright blue eyes and hair that though shorn on the sides, the top was barely meeting the length regulations.
His eyes held a watchfulness that spoke of intelligence; though he had smile lines around the corner of his eyes, he seemed more comfortable with his mouth drawn down in a frown. Like most members of the Joe team, he had forsaken the ACUs wearing a pair of old school Battle Dress Uniform pants with a black shirt and old school black, spit-shined jump boots. He had on a bandolier with a myriad of colored shells inserted. The red and green casings he knew, but, Beachhead wondered what purple and black were.
On the man's head was a faded black beret. This beret was earned in the seventies by a bright-eyed Ranger named Jason Faireborn. He wondered if the jump boots were also a nod to that same soldier who was long retired, living his life out on a small cattle ranch and horse farm in Kansas.
The son, standing in front of Beachhead now, knew his worth; this man wasn't going to apologize for his knowledge. The NCO felt, as the man sized him up, that he knew every one of his flaws, and he would have no issue with telling him what they were with brutal honesty.
Beachhead deserved that, after how he treated Dashiell. He had crossed a line, called the man's skin tone, his biological father. If his father had heard what he had said; the old man would have taken his ass, grown adult or not, behind the woodshed and beat him good.
This man was a far cry from the goof-ball, twenty-one-year-old Dashiell Faireborn that Beachhead had met so long ago. A kid who wanted to be a teacher, play pro-ball, and find the perfect girl. An outgoing Kansas farmboy and proud of it; he wore his High School Rodeo Champion belt with pride and his beat up Silverado had a sticker of the American Flag on the back window. Beachhead had told Dash that he was a worthless Injun who had no clue what it was like to be a man, having lived his pampered life.
But, those words and those actions he couldn't take back; he knew the kids past, and everything that kid had gone to overcome. Still, he said those words which put him on a course where his pride wouldn't let him stray, even if it left a bitter taste in his mouth. So he looked up and snarled. "Dash Faireborn last time I saw you I was teaching you some manners at Starlight Station."
Flint smiled at him, this cruel twisting of a smile that chilled Beachhead to the bone. "Looks like the hair on your eyebrow never quite grew back did it?"
Lady Jaye was already up, standing between the two of them. She surveyed the scene with a look that was a mixture of curiosity and worry. Dash took a step closer towards Beachhead, Jaye held her hand out her hand touched the brown haired man's chest. For a second, Beachhead had images of a mouse standing up to a lion.
Flint captured Jaye's wrist in his hand; he held it there on his chest. "Frosty, Lady Jaye, just frosty."
The tension is his body left him, his eyes soften, as did the frown. For a brief second, that goofball kid was there at the surface, shimmering. Flint quickly shoved him aside, and tilted his head back in Beachhead's direction. Flint opened his mouth to say something, but Duke interrupted them.
"I see you two know each other," Duke said, watching the scene. Whatever issues the two men had with each other was of little interest to the First Sergeant. What had interested him was the interaction between Flint and Lady Jaye. "That's right, a lot has happened since you were used for target practice by Cobra. This is our new XO, Mr. Dashiell Faireborn, code name, Flint."
In the Army, the Warrant Officer is a strange creature. Wild Bill had tried to explain the rank, once. Ace, with eyes glazed over after the instruction said, "Basically, Warrant's are the unicorns of the Military." The Texan had glowered at them, shook his head and walked away.
What Beachhead took away from the one-hour block of instruction was: addressing an Officer by Mr., Mrs., Miss or Ms. was an insult; yet, that was how you were supposed to address a Warrant Officer. After that Wild Bill lost him with Company grade commission and Congressional commission; Bill did show them a picture of a pug dressed like Yoda, he loved that picture.
Cringing inwardly at the thought how the hell did this happen Faireborn outranked him, he didn't even know the kid was in the Army. He had heard rumblings about some superstar Ranger pulling off Rescue missions and hostage situations that nobody else could. He never thought in a million years that this was the same Faireborn.
He was about to ask Mr. Faireborn if he couldn't cut it was as a real officer, when Duke spoke up. "Hate to do this on short notice, but, Jaye, brief these yahoos on the weapons theft last night at the Kansas Armory.
The Sergeant nodded and scrambled to gathering her notes. "Hooah, Top."
Lady Jaye set down her reports. Beachhead noticed, in her usual fashion, her papers were all neatly organized with post-it notes and paper clips. She opened her mouth and Duke stopped her. "In your 'own' voice."
Jaye blinked up at Duke, on her face was an expression that spoke, "I would never do something like that." He returned the look with one that said, "I don't believe that for a second.""
Knowing that she probably would have done some crazy impersonation while at the podium she looked down at her papers. Then her smile turned to a frown and a look of panic. Everyone in that room knew she was missing one of her papers. Her expression was that of a Joe about to go into a tailspin.
Beachhead wasn't the only one in the room that realized the unflappable Scotswoman was about to have a breakdown. Flint went to her rescue, and, after rifling through his own papers, he fished out his copy, and put it in front of her.
A look of relief crossed her face; this is her first big mission as an NCO, she wanted to prove she deserved that Sergeant stripe. Truth be told, there was no concern in Beachheads mind about her doing a good job. As silly, impetuous, and downright touched as Lady Jaye was, she was a damn good Joe. She might be the first in garrison to blow off steam with her crazy antics; in the field, where it counted, she was the epitome of professionalism for someone so young.
Besides, he remembered his first big briefing, how he couldn't stop saying 'ya'll' and 'um'. through the whole damn thing, and when he was talking about Mosul, he meant Basra. Thankfully his teammates gave him some slack and the mission (in Basra) went off without a hitch. He might be a hard nose, but he understood that your first time up there was nerve racking, and for Jaye doubly so. She wasn't looking at regular 'Joes' she was looking at GI Joes.
She glanced down at the paper; her brow furrowed deeper at whatever caught her attention on his copy. "I deserved an A." Beachhead realized he had walked into a private joke that everyone knew but him.
"B-plus, maybe. Next time cite your research." She looked at Flint open mouthed. His frown pulled into a slight smile. Beachhead realized that the Warrant Officer was pulling her pigtails. "Now get back to the briefing. We're all getting gray hairs, here."
"Well, Chief, thanks to your little show two days ago we all know about your gray hair." She quipped back.
Beachhead had to hide a smile; he had no clue what she was talking about, but she had put Flint in his place. The Warrant Officer might be pulling her pigtails, but Lady Jaye was going to be the girl that punches him right back.
"Well, I had to show off for the ladies." Flint shrugged.
"Whoa, what Ladies?" Roadblock asked. "I mean; the room was filled up with Sailors from the USS Flagg."
"You rest my case." Flint looked back at Jaye.
"Wow, I do have to say it was impressive." She smiled. Everyone in the room knew that smile she was going in for the kill.
"Never had a complaint." Flint looked at her a heated look that made Beachhead want to ask if he wanted to get a room.
"Oh, you thought I was talking about little Flint... no sweetheart, I was talking about your Ego." She smiled sweetly
He nodded, saluting her. As irreverent as the exchange was and how Beachhead would not have let it happen, he also knew that it served a purpose; it put Jaye's head back in the game. It made her see that her tailspin was not necessary. It also told him that, though Flint was ready to rip his head off, at a given time the history between them was not forgotten, but was pushed back into another container in the chief's head.
Duke watched the whole exchange, shaking his head he motioned for Jaye to continue. Tapping the papers, she gave him a black look and then turned mega-watt smile on Flint, who nodded her victory. "Last night an Armory for the Kansas National Guard was broken into. The thieves stole about fifty M16's."
"A guard interrupted the scene, he did engage with the thieves. Thankfully, he was not hurt badly." She nodded to Duke who pulled up security footage. "We were only able to positively ID one man."
Snake Eyes hands moved quickly. "Unfortunately, no, not a member of Cobra or New Dawn." She responded.
She enlarged the picture on one man. "This is Thrasher; he is a member of the European Motorcycle group the Can-Cans, a feeder group to the Dreadnocks."
"He is fairly new to the group, came on the scene about a month ago," Jaye pulled up a mug shot. "He is known for a string of robberies to local businesses, domestic violence and putting the most Jolly Ranchers in his mouth at last year's Easter Egg hunt."
Snake Eyes hands moved again; everyone blinked at him. Once the ninja finished, Duke rolled his eyes heavenward. "I don't even want to know how you think he cheated,"
Putting his sandwich down, he continued to give Snake Eyes a strange look but addressed the group. "Look, this is the hitch of things, for Mayhem's mission to work he is the enemy; we can't pull our punches on him. It sucks, I know, but for all intents and purposes, he is a bad guy. To out him, could get him killed. He will pass the information along if he can. He does have an extraction phrase: I ate my belly button lint as a child. "
Beachhead was about to ask whose bright idea that it was to give him that phrase but Lady Jaye's cheesing told him that she had something to say about her twin brother's involvement in this mission.
"So why the M16's, not the M4s?" Flint asked.
Beachhead realized Flint knew the answer. He wanted Jaye to have time to show off her strengths. The Warrant Officer was going to let them shine, as Executive Officer of the Joe team, one of his main focuses was on cultivating the Junior Non-Commissioned Officer's into better NCO's. Lady Jaye was the team's best, and pushing her to her limit was the right thing to do. But, Beachhead couldn't help but wonder if there was more than him just making Jaye into a better NCO.
"I know that many soldiers still prefer the M16 for their accuracy." Her answers were hesitant at first, but, Roadblock gave her a slight nod. "Though heavier, there are more accessories and mod kits for the M16 on the consumer market. Also, considering these weapons were slated for destruction, there is a good possibility that it was an inside job. I would need one of the weapons in front of me to confirm that."
"So, if they filed off the serial numbers?" Beachhead wondered out loud. In the army, the numbers etched on the side of your weapon was how tracked your rifle. Every soldier in his platoon knew theirs by heart. He made sure of it.
Jaye smiled at him, looking down at the laptop in front of her she pulled up a video from her cloud. Everyone in the room winced silently, wondering how this was going to end up. Technology was not Jaye's friend. She clicked once, nothing happened. Then with frustration, she clicked the arrow over and over.
Duke grabbed her hands, "Jaye, give it a second." Then a myriad of windows popped up on the screen behind her. The room erupted into laughter, for which they received the stink eye from the small Scottish woman. Duke let go of her hands; he went through the process of closing the multiple screens. She reached over, trying to help him, but he slapped her hand away. "No, bad puppy."
Finally, with only one screen Duke pressed the play button. "Continue," he told her, but watched her very carefully.
"The FBI has come up with techniques to salvage those. In some cases, they have recovered full numbers. Though, with even partial numbers we can get closer to figuring out 'why these particular rifles?'." The video was showing the lab techs at Quantico doing just that. She closed the video and looked at them. "It's a safe assumption that they took these because they were ready for shipment. Remember, gentlemen, our main priority is finding out if this is an inside job."
"Scarlett will be your Pit Master," Duke interrupted. "She is finishing up briefing the President on our Space Launch next month, but she will be back here at HQ before you all hit Wichita. Lady Jaye your lead intelligence, let's see if you can repeat your success against Zartan and Storm Shadow at the UN terrorist repository. The ATF is acknowledging the fact that we did warn them, along with the Kansas Guard, why they didn't act is irrelevant. What is not, they are asking for our help."
Duke punched a few things on the wireless keyboard; he gave a nod to Lady Jaye that spoke 'This is how you work a computer' look. "It seems we weren't the only ones that warned the ATF. This, boys and Lady, is Udall, Kansas. The population of 738, this is small town America at its finest. Home of the Udall Eagles and Ohio State Quarterback and Joe team's own..."
The team erupted into laughter as there was a younger Flint smiling with long hair in an Ohio State Football Jersey. Another picture of Flint on the back of a convertible on what looked like a parade. "His Ohio state victory got him a spot in the homecoming parade, but he is most known for this parade." There was him on a black Arabian, cowboy boots, and a Cowboy hat, nothing else.
Lady Jaye blinked at him. "You have issues, Chief."
The frown broke into a grin only for her. "I know, but they like to swing free Lady Jaye."
Sometimes you just don't have a comeback for things; his admission of the desire to let his manly parts be free had Jaye standing there looking at him like he lost his mind. It was unclear to Beachhead who won that round, but, what was for sure, Flint had done something not many people could claim the honor of doing: left Lady Jaye at a loss for words.
The small brunette picked up her papers; tapping them on the table, she never took her eyes off the warrant officer. If her expression was that of irritated disbelief, Flint's grin hid a myriad of warring emotions hidden behind his eyes. The XO realized that others were looking at him and, in a flash, that frown in which he seemed more comfortable was slammed back into place.
Duke had watched the whole scene with mild interest, so it looked. Beachhead knew that meant the First Sergeant was extremely interested in what was going on between the two of them. "Udall's local sheriff contacted the ATF and took pictures of…"
"Tomax and Xamot," Roadblock finished.
Jaye reached up to her hair. "Well, now we can tell them apart."
Beachhead looked at the picture; he had missed something while he was gone. There on one of the identical twins was a jagged scar that ran from the bottom of his ear to almost the corner of his mouth. "I owe that person a beer."
"Guinness, please." Jaye gave an almost haunted look, and it was clear that the twin terrorists were the cause. But she covered her expression quickly putting on her tough girl act.
Beachhead shook his head; yeah, there was a reason she was one of the few Joes he liked. "Seems that they are helping the New Dawn in a lease agreement. Meet Malcolm Priest: He has the biggest farm in the area and is known to lease out tracks of land for a fair price. He leased out to Corey Green thinking the kid wanted to get away from the city and raise his family on a Kansas farm." Duke explained
"Well meet the Green family. "Jaye pulled up a picture with no complications and smiled with pride at her achievement.
"Guys this area is peaceful; ninety-five percent of the population are farmers more worried about getting crops out," Duke explained. "Udall is small town America, not the Streets of Mosul. We plan on keeping it that way."
"Remember we are being invited on t this mission. ACT ACCORDINGLY BEACH!" Duke gave them all the 'I mean business look.' "Sam's Club ran a sale on toothbrushes last weekend; I picked up about a hundred of them. GOT THAT?"
"Hooah, Top." They all turned looking at Beachhead. He stared at them with confusion on his face.
"That means don't act like you, Beach. I, for one, do not want to clean the woman's locker rooms again." Spirit glared at Lady Jaye. "You women are nasty."
She smiled at the Navajo man, his dry sense of humor took some getting used to, even by Beachhead. "You are right. Trust me, you should see Cover Girls desk in the motor pool. I think we need to call a hazmat team to clean it up."
"Flight line in forty minutes." Flint barked at them.
Beachhead walked out and almost ran over a short, Scottish woman who was very angry. "What the hell was that? We've talked about you making good relationships between you and your fellow teammates."
"Lady Jaye," He gave her a warning glance.
She stood in front of him; she was adorable with arms akimbo, head cocked. "I mean you're an asshole, but that took new heights." She growled at him.
"Jaye, that Sergeant stripe is going to your head." He glared at her. She blinked back at him. The truth was she was the only one who could get away with calling him out on his shit.
It was often misconceived that he had romantic feelings for the girl. Not that she wasn't beautiful, she just wasn't his type. He wouldn't throw her out of his bed; hell, with enough alcohol he might even invite her to his bed. There was just something missing for him, what he couldn't quite place; the girl was intelligent, sweet, gorgeous, and she had balls. But the desire to pull her into his arms and kiss her senseless just wasn't there.
"One rank, buddy." She held up her finger. "If you want to drop me, you gotta get down with me. You know the rules."
He glared at her; Jaye's green eyes stared back, she knew something was up between him and Faireborn. He hated that accusing look she was giving him.
"He's Marissa's brother," Her face looked at him with surprise. "He didn't tell you that?"
"I knew he had a sister who died in the Twelve Cities attack." She pulled out a pack of Big Red Gum and offered him a piece. He waved off her offering and watched her unwrap a stick. Chewing on it thoughtfully, she finally spoke. "I just never put two and two together."
"What, that I was her fiancée?" That made him angry; how could Flint not think to mention that? How, when Marissa died she was about to be married?
"I don't think he knew you were a member of the team, Battle." She looked at him, shaking her head. "I knew she was going to be married, he told me that. He mentioned that he and the fiancée got into blows, but, he never told me his name."
To Beachhead's dismay, Flint wasn't being sneaky or telling half-truths. Something told him that the Warrant Officer was still honest, to a fault. "It was easier, when I could order you around." He growled wanting to end this conversation.
"I'm just saying, for my sake, be good." She thought she was conveying the need for them to be on the P's and Q's worried that if they were fighting it might affect the mission. Beachhead knew there was another meaning in her comment, one he was sure she didn't realize herself. If it came down to him or Flint, she was going to back Flint.
He wasn't about to point out the obvious, so, he went for the semi-obvious. "You put too much stock in our friendship. With you gone I would have the fastest run time on post."
"Just know, if I get killed, the Tomahawk will come down on you. I am his favorite," she said smugly.
"What about Scarlett?" Beachhead pointed out.
"She's General Colton's favorite," Lady Jaye shrugged.
"Then whose Colonel Flagg's?" Beachhead was so confused with this conversation. He realized Lady Jaye distracting him from Flint's black glare.
"Dusty," Jaye shrugged. "Everyone likes Dusty. It's sickening."
"Okay, I promise not to get you killed," Beachhead growled.
"That's all I ask. I would hate to see you going to Ft. Hood to clean out Bertha," Jaye shrugged, smiling.
"You wouldn't," Beachhead's eyes got wide.
"Already cleared with Duke. You or Flint show your ass," she smiled that devious smile of hers, "You both will experience tough love, cleaning out Bertha. By the way, we made some new advancements on it, and you know frozen chickens are Roadblocks choice of practice ammunition."
With that, she winked, and walked away yelling "Chief hold up, got to talk to you!"