Chapter 3: Got To Get Tough
Ron made his way into the barracks with the other recruits. He began stowing his gear when the last voice he wanted to hear spoke up behind him. "What are you doing here?"
Ron lifted his head and slowly turned to the bunk across from his. "Du?"
"You were recruited?" Will Du asked, standing tall and obnoxious. "Why wereyou recruited?"
"Me? Why would the most elite military team in the world want an old stick in the mud like you?" Ron asked with a contemplative expression.
"Is there a problem here, Maggots?" Slaughter's booming voice spoke from behind the two.
"Yes, I would like to issue a formal complaint. This child should not be here. It's bad enough he and his girlfriend attempt to play vigilante, but now he wants to play Soldier." Du said without missing a beat.
"Is that a fact?" Slaughter tilted his head, "You want to complain, then come with me. I'll show you where you can drop the complaint."
Slaughter led the smug Will Du into the back of the barracks to a dark room. "You can put any and all complaints right here." Slaughter said, and before Du could ask, his face was shoved into a used, stopped up toilet. "WHILE YOU'RE DOWN THERE, YOU PIECE OF SHIT, CLEAN UP ALL THAT OTHER SHIT, GET RID OF IT AND YOUR 'COMPLAINT'!"
Slaughter walked back in. "Anyone else want to bitch?" he looked around at the suddenly silent room. "Good. Now get to sleep; after you all get your nice long beauty sleep, I'll wake you for our little morning 'jog'."
Ron climbed into the hard mattress and tried to get comfortable. After an hour of tosses, he quietly climbed out of bed, glanced up to see Will dragging himself from the bathroom, grumbling before collapsing on his own bunk. "Night, Willie," Ron whispered at the Agent-turned-recruit, who lifted a specific finger in response.
The blond chuckled and pulled a small wallet sized picture and a piece of scotch tape from the large case at the foot of his bunk. He climbed back in bed and taped the picture of the grinning redhead to the metal bedpost. "Goodnight, KP. Love ya…" he whispered, unaware that at that moment several hundred miles away Kim was doing the same.
---
"UP AND AT 'UM, MAGGOTS!" Slaughter bellowed as he kicked open the door to the barracks.
Ron groaned as he sat up and looked at the clock above the doorway that read 2 a.m.
"It's time to get up and stretch your legs! You have thirty seconds get your gear on and line up." Slaughter barked, and the group stared. "TWENTY-FIVE SECONDS!"
Ron and the others quickly busied themselves dressing in their training fatigues and lining up before the towering Sgt. Slaughter.
"You're six seconds late, you pieces of filth; that's an extra six miles to your daily twelve mile jog." Slaughter stated with a stiff lip.
By the time the eighteen mile jog around the desert was completed, the recruits were all barely standing. "That was a good warm up, wasn't it, pukes?" Slaughter asked as he stood before them, unfazed from going along with them. "Now it's time for the real fun; start with fifty push ups followed by fifty jumping jacks. EAT THE DIRT LIKE GOOD MAGGOTS!" Slaughter bellowed and the recruits dove for the ground and began their push ups in time with Slaughter's loud count.
"Now, filth, let's use this playground," Slaughter motioned to several obstacles including running tires, low barbwire fences, a climbing wall, a rope across a pit, and a climbing rope. "NOW, GET YOUR ASSES MOVING! MOVE IT! MOVE IT! MOVE IT! TWENTY LAPS AROUND THE COURSE NOW!"
Slaughter stood with his hands on his hips as Ron, Will, and the Recruits struggled through the obstacle course. He glanced down when the cell phone on his belt began to buzz. "Slaughter." He answered.
"Hello, Sergeant, how're the recruits doing?" Duke asked as Slaughter watched the group, and a smirk formed on his lips when he noticed Ron and Will were easily out doing the others.
"The most pathetic piles of shit I have ever seen," Slaughter responded. "Though I have to say Possible's bitch might actually have something relating to a dick and possibly even some balls. But that might just be wishful thinking."
"Stoppable has some martial arts history first with working with his girlfriend, who knows multiple styles of martial arts, but also from training some at Yamanouchi. Master Sensei Kenshiro endorsed him highly when I spoke to him over the phone." Duke stated, "That's why I'm thinking about putting him with Snake Eyes for his specialty training."
"Eyes would do him well, if he can survive the shit I'm going to put him through," Slaughter grinned evilly, "It seems he finds my course too easy. I'm gonna have to play with the design after I put the maggots to bed tonight."
"Just don't kill him, Sergeant, Duke out." Duke said as he hung up.
"Think this is too easy, do you, boy?" Slaughter chewed on his lower lip as Ron made it across the last wall of the course and collapsed to the ground in a heap. "I'll show you easy…"
---
"I swear, girlfriend, you're so perky, if I didn't know better, I'd say you OD'd on caffeine this morning."" Monique teased across the booth at Bueno Nacho.
"Meh…" Kim mumbled as she poked at her taco salad.
"He's only been gone for two days!" Monique shook her head.
"Fifty six hours, twenty one minutes… and…" she paused to look at her watch. "Fourteen seconds."
"Are you going to waste away counting down the seconds till he gets out of boot camp?" Monique asked with a raised eyebrow.
"Is there a problem with that?" Kim mumbled.
"Yes, because Ron will use that Monkey Kung Fu on my sexy ass if anything happens to you!" Monique pointed out hotly. "Not to mention any other fighting tricks he learns over there!"
"Sexy ass?" Kim quirked an eyebrow.
"It is, Kim; I check to make sure it retains its sexiness every morning when I wake up," Monique stated matter-of-factly. "It's truly a work of art."
"Right…" Kim drawled as she went back to poking her salad.
"Speaking of which, I have an idea that might just make you and Ron both feel better," Monique gave a devious smile.
"Oh?" Kim asked, vaguely interested now.
"Let's get some snapshots of you and send them over to our little soldier boy," Monique beamed.
"Monique, we just had senior pictures taken a few months ago," Kim rolled her eyes but snapped back to her best female friend as she started to giggle darkly.
"Yeah, I know," Monique smile went wider. "I'm talking about pictures your mom doesn't need to see. Pictures that would make your dad have a coronary. You know? Show him what he's got waiting for him when he gets done."
"Not like he hasn't already seen it all already…" Kim smiled slyly with a faint flush to her cheeks.
Monique made a full stop and starred at the redhead as if she'd grown a second head. "You mean…" Monique questioned, and Kim gave a shy nod in reply. "Dish… Now!"
"Only once," Kim whispered as she glanced around the restaurant to make sure no one was eavesdropping. "We… um… it happened the night before he left for boot camp…"
"Ahuh, ahuh," Monique nodded enthusiastically.
"It was a little weird… awkward… but wonderful…" Kim sighed dreamily.
"And Ron… details, Possible, details!" Monique nodded again.
"Well… I'm not one to kiss and tell but…" She glanced around again. "You know how Ron has some really big hands?" Monique nodded mutely. "And you know how they say that… it sometimes corresponds with that?" Monique nodded again, beginning to resemble a bobblehead doll. "They weren't lying." She said, causing both girls to break into giggles.
"So… about those pictures…" Monique quirked an eyebrow.
Kim blinked and looked away in thought for a moment before shrugging. "Why not?"
---
Shego hugged herself as she stood in the corner of the Cobra Fortress, watching Drakken and Dr. Mindbender scurry over different vehicle and weapon prints. She glanced across the room and spotted the Dreadnoks staring at her. She was used to the idea of men staring at her body, what with her choice of uniform, but the thugs were far more disturbing.
"Are you cold?"
Shego jumped slightly to see the leather-clad woman known as the Baroness leaning against the doorway staring at her. "What?"
"I asked if you were cold," Baroness said as she pushed her glasses up on her nose and casually walked toward her. "Cobra Commander wishes for your company."
"Cobra Commander? Wow, he went out of his way for original names, didn't he?" Shego chuckled, but Baroness just gave a knowing smile. "If you would come with me, please; it is not wise to keep him waiting."
Shego shrugged and followed the brunette out of the room, toward the central part of the fortress.
Baroness led her to a pair of large doors, pausing at a hand scanner. "Step back a moment," Baroness instructed as she removed one of her gloves and pressed her hand on the scanner. A moment later, the large doors opened. "Step forward, he is awaiting you." Baroness said, stepping aside.
The doors closed behind her as Shego walked into the barely lit throne room decorated with Cobra banners. "Welcome, my dear…" a hissing voice echoed as a large throne rose from the floor.
"Cobra Commander, I presume," she said, noting the man sitting on the throne. He was dressed in a blue uniform with a blue helmet connected to reflective silver faceplate.
"Shelia Goforth, Shelly to your friends," Cobra Commander hissed as he rose from his throne and approached the pale-skinned woman. "Graduate of Yale with a Masters in Sociology and Human Development. Engaged twice, both men murdered by enemies of your brothers. Former hero and member of Team Go, now associated with Dr. Drakken and occasionally with Team Possible."
Shego's eyes widened at her once-deeply buried history. "I've done my homework. You have a lot of potential, my dear," The Commander said as he walked around her like a wolf stalking its prey. "But the question is, dear Shego, for what?"
"Care to translate?" Shego asked, narrowing her eyes at the Commander.
"You've done a lot of things that we would consider beneficial in our line of work," Cobra Commander stated as he continued pacing around her. "But nothing that would truly brand you a terrorist. Yet, on the other side of the coin, your work in Team Go and the occasions where you've helped Team Possible have made you quite the potential hero."
"There a point to this?" Shego asked, looking at her gloved fingers.
"Yes. You see, you're, if nothing else, a mercenary. I brought Dr. Drakken into my organization for his skills in advanced technology," Cobra Commander explained, "You, my dear, are simple case of right time, right place."
"Then why wasn't I killed like the other prisoners?" Shego asked, not buying Cobra Commander's story.
The masked man came to a stop to stand face to face with the woman. "Two reasons: One, Drakken would likely not join our cause if we shoot down his ally in front of him. And two: like I said, your skills could be useful." He turned his back to her. "You could be useful, but soldiers like you are a dime a dozen."
"Are you calling me common? Listen here, you jerk," Shego growled as she lit up her hands. "Why don't I just show you just how common I am!"
"Please do," Cobra Commander said, not even glancing in her direction.
Shego growled and went to strike the masked terrorist, only to gasp as the coppery taste of blood flooded her mouth accompanied by a firm, hard pressure to her abdomen.
She went to her knees as Cobra Commander recoiled his fist, and was barely able to regain focus before Cobra Commander kicked her in the jaw, sending her hard on her back. "Drakken spoiled you," Cobra Commander said as he crouched, pushing all his weight into his knee on her sternum. She gasped when he leaned forward with one hand on her throat, the other holding both her flaming wrists above her head.
"Do as you're ordered without question, and you will continue to be treated as a mercenary." The mask man hissed as Shego stared at her own face reflected in his mask. "Defy me, and I may have to find… other uses for you." He said, glancing over her body before finally releasing her.
'Who is this guy?' Shego asked silently as she slowly pulled her sore battered body off the floor and spat the blood that was forced into her mouth onto the floor. 'He's good… very good… I couldn't touch him… who the hell can take a guy like this down?'
Got to get tough, Yo, Joe
Got to get tough, Yo, Joe
Sergeant Slaughter frowned as all the rapidly moving targets on the far side of the range were quickly obliterated from machine gun fire. "Not bad. Now let's see you pukes do the same thing with a seven second window."
You've gotta stand tall when it comes down to the wire
The towering Drill Instructor crossed his arms as he watched Will and Ron ducked and swung padded staffs while mixing in a few kicks, the two still going at it while the other recruits had already won and lost their matches and were now watching them.
"That the best you can do, Du?" Ron asked with a smirk. "Rufus hits harder."
"Coming from the man who lets his girlfriend do all the fighting." Will smiled tightly.
You gotta play rough when you cross the line of fire
"Oh, you did not just go there." Ron growled as the two recruits went for each other full force and knocked each other clear out of the ring.
"Good job, maggots," Slaughter growled as the two tried to focus from the blow-induced dazes. "You're both dead."
You gotta have guts to stand for your rights
You gotta keep a grip and hold on tight
"GO! GO! GO!" Slaughter screamed as the recruits ran through the improved, barely legal, training course, dodging now, instead of sandbags and barbwire, flamethrowers, swinging spiked poles, and electric fencing.
You gotta do the fightin' with all of your might
You gotta keep the target straight ahead in your sights
Slaughter nodded with a smile when the recruits weren't looking, making note that Ron and Will were leading the recruits through the obstacles.
Got to get tough, Yo Joe
Got to get tough, Yo Joe
Midday jogs were at first a painful struggle, but as the training went on, Ron and the others weren't even fazed by the one hundred and fifteen plus degree desert temperatures in their full gear.
"GI JOE!" Slaughter barked as he jogged beside the recruits.
"AMERICA'S TOP SECRET MOBILE STRIKE FORCE TEAM!" Ron barked with the recruits.
"THE MISSION!"
"TO DEFEND FREEDOM!"
"THE PRIMARY THREAT!"
"COBRA AND ANY OTHER TERRORIST TRYING TO DESTROY FREEDOM!"
"THE BATTLECRY!"
"YOOOOO, JOE!!"
Got to get tough, Yo Joe
Got to get tough, Yo Joe
Yo Joe!
Ron took a long swig of water as the recruits returned to the Slaughter House after their jog. The sound of a rebel yell and chopper blades brought a smile to all the recruits' faces. "MAIL CALL!!" Ron yelled, and the recruits quickly gathered and stood in line at attention as Wild Bill made a pass in his custom assault copter, dropping the mail bag before zooming back across the desert.
"Crazy son of a bitch, what if something's breakable in that," a recruit asked, watching the rapidly repeating chopper.
"Silent when at attention," Ron hissed.
"Du!" Slaughter called out as he looked through the mail bag, passing the mail packages to the recruits calling out each name in alphabetical order. "Richards!" He then glanced at the young man, who, just a few short weeks ago, was skinny as a rail. "Stoppable!"
The recruits started to break up when Slaughter blew his whistle. "DID I GIVE YOU PERMISSION TO GO AT EASE, DISEASE?"
"FOUR HUNDRED JUMPING JACKS AND LISTEN WHILE PROCEEDING!" Slaughter barked as he passed before the hopping soldiers-to-be. "Congratulations are in order. You sorry pieces of filth have gone beyond my expectations and have graduated in my vision from Maggots to Turds."
"Starting at oh nine hundred tomorrow, you will each receive one-on-one specialty training to hone a skill you brought with you," Slaughter explained, "We will take what you have that made you think you were a man, and we will use it to help you become a Joe... or a corpse." Slaughter stopped and waited for them to finish their punishment. "The Specialty Training will be done with a GI Joe Officer, which one, perhaps two, of you have a miniscule chance of becoming. They won't be as forgiving as I am, so be sure to be on your utmost best behavior."
"DRILL SERGEANT!" Ron called out, "RECRUIT STOPPABLE HAS A QUESTION IN RELATION TO THE ONE-ON-ONE SPECIALTY TRAINING!"
Slaughter turned a glare on the blond and stomped to get in his way. "WAS THERE SOMETHING YOU DIDN'T UNDERSTAND, TURD? DO I NEED TO CALL MIDDLETON AND HAVE POSSIBLE TRANSLATE FOR HER LITTLE BITCH?"
"RECRUIT STOPPABLE UNDERSTOOD CLEAR AS CRYSTAL, DRILL SERGEANT!" Ron yelled out making sure to look forward without making eye contact with Slaughter. "RECRUIT STOPPABLE INQUIRES IF WE COULD HAVE A LONGER REST PERIOD TO PREPARE FOR THE ONE-ON-ONE SPECIALTY TRAINING?"
"That would be nice wouldn't it, Turd, and I'd bet Possible would let her little bitch have a break like that," Slaughter mused as he paced. "Hell, if I was a nice guy, I'd let you all have the rest of the evening off to prepare…" Slaughter then snapped his heels to glare at the Recruits. "UNFORTUNATELY FOR YOU, I'M NOT A NICE GUY. I WANT TWENTY LAPS THROUGH THE POSSIBLE BITCH CUSTOM OBSTACLE COURSE! MOVE IT!!"
"THANK YOU, DRILL SERGEANT!" The Recruits called out before turning and running toward the obstacle course.
Slaughter smiled darkly at the blond buzz-cut young man running in the pack. "Snake Eyes is going to have a lot of fun with you tomorrow, boy …"
---
As the usual evening went, Ron collapsed on his cot, trembling as he opened the envelope with KP written above Kim's address in the corner of the brown medium sized envelope.
He smiled sadly as he pulled out the letter.
Ron,
I've never been good at writing letters. You should know since I really didn't write you when you were at Camp Wannaweep. I guess I'm just paranoid the Tweebs will find where I wrote this and use it against me. Sounds overly paranoid, but you know the Tweebs. I just wanted to tell you that I miss you, and can't wait to see you again. Monique and I made a few presents for you; they're included in the envelope. I'm really proud of you. Dad and Mom told me to tell you to be safe. Ditto.
Love,
KP
Ron sniffled slightly and rubbed his eyes before he began to look for the aforementioned gifts. He found another envelope inside the first envelope and broke the seal. "What's this?" he asked as he pulled out the hand full of pictures and froze when his mind processed what he was seeing. "…Boo… Yah…"
To Be Continued…