Chapter 4
Rachel's mouth hung open. "Hawke!"
The man stood up and gave a slight bow. "In the flesh."
"Where have you been?"
"Here." He replied, walking around his desk and towards her. "There. A little bit of everywhere."
After Hawke disappeared with Von Bolt's chair, he left a lot of questions behind. He had expertly maintained a low profile and evaded the watchful eye of the Allied Nations for months now. The rumor mill had fired up and churned out countless testimonies of Hawke's exploits, sightings, and other bits of gossip that came with speculation.
He walked up to her, and pulled out a knife from his coat. "The real issue is why you are here."
Rachel eyed the knife. "Uh..Lash brought me here."
Placing a hand on Rachel's shoulder, he turned her around, cut her hands free, and returned the knife to its hiding place. "Of course she did. I'm sure you have some questions, but first things first: I believe you have something that belongs to me."
The girl's eyes widened. "You're Schaefer?"
"Don't be surprised." He said, walking back to his chair. "You didn't think 'Hawke' was a real name, did you?"
"Honestly?"
He waved away her response after he sat down. "Don't answer that. The envelope, please."
The young girl sat down in a chair across from Hawke and gave her the packet that had been a headache ever since she got it. "What is it?" she asked, handing it to him.
"We'll find out." He said, taking it and putting on some reading glasses. He ripped it open and pulled out a letter. Rachel tried to read through the paper, but without much success. "Hm…interesting."
"What's it say?"
"Nothing."
"Huh? It says nothing?"
"Nothing of any importance."
"Can I see it?"
Hawke stuffed the paper in a drawer. "You had every opportunity to look at it."
That pressed a nerve. "You mean to tell me that this letter has been driving me crazy, nearly got me killed twice, caused troops to break in to my home and try to abduct me only for Lash to kill them and drag me to this decrepit relic of a base in my p.j.s and I don't' even get to see what it says?"
Hawke interlocked his fingers and leaned on the old desk. "Yes, I'd say that's about right."
"Oh, come on! Not even a hint?"
"No. I do appreciate you taking such good care of it for me, but I'm afraid this is not something to be flashing around." He got up and walked around the desk as he spoke. "Since you're here, though, there is something I wanted to talk to you about."
"Does it involve the letter?"
"Not really."
"Does it involve Von Bolt's chair?"
"No."
"Why did you take the chair?
"It is quite comfortable." Hawke said, approaching a file cabinet, sliding open a drawer, and digging out a thick vanilla folder.
"Seriously, why did you take it?"
He walked back to the desk. "That's not important."
"I'd like to know."
"I'm sure you would." Hawke said, opening the file. "But I know there's something you'd like to know even more."
Rachel cocked her head. "What?"
"Von Bolt himself."
Now he had Rachel's attention. "You know where he is?"
"I know a lot of things." Hawke said, looking over the papers in the file.
Rachel leaned forward, listening closely. "So where is he?"
Hawke sat back in his chair and looked Rachel in the eye. "Before we talk about that, I'd like to talk about you."
"What about me?"
"I'm sure you've realized this by now, but you've made some enemies."
"Because of your stupid letter!"
"Perhaps." Hawke said. "But you decided to take it, despite seeing two men die for it. Now, it seems whoever wanted it has focused their eye on you. I'm just curious what you plan to do about that."
"Don't know." Rachel started to say, thinking aloud. She really hadn't thought about what to make of everything that's happened the last few days. "I might report it."
"Really? You'll tell the police? What will you say? Someone tried to kill you but you don't know who? Or perhaps you'll tell your friends in Orange Star, hoping they can protect you from the unknown."
"What are you getting at?"
"I'm getting at you being attacked by some unknown entity that clearly had access to resources and personnel. An unknown entity who can order professional soldiers to break into your home at will. How can you deal with a threat when you don't even know who's threatening you? Who can you turn to?"
"I…I don't know." Rachel admitted. What did you do about a person you didn't know that wanted you dead? She wasn't sure, but she knew one thing: it had been a long day, and was turning in to a long night. Rachel didn't feel like playing games. "Is there a point to all this?"
"There just so happens to be one, yes." Hawke said, leaning forward onto the desk. "I have a proposition for you. It may catch you a little off guard. I only ask that you think before you react."
"Okay."
"I want your help in bringing down the Bolt Guard. In return, I help you deal with whoever organized that attack."
"You want my help? Like troops and stuff?"
"No, I want your help; Not your government's, and not your army's."
You mean you want me to…join you?"
"Yes."
Rachel burst out laughing, but Hawke's expression remained unchanged. "I had a feeling you'd react this way."
"Seriously, this is one of the best pranks ever! Who put you up to this? Lash?"
"No one. This is no prank."
"You're serious?"
Hawke gave a nod.
"Why should I help you? Just tell me what you know and I'll see that Orange Star takes care of it."
"If I wanted Orange Star's help, I'd have asked for it. I need your help."
Rachel leaned forward onto the desk, her face inches away from his. "Well if Orange Star can't help you, then I can't help you."
"Is that so?" Hawke said, not backing down.
"Yeah. That's so."
He gave a shrug. "Pity. I guess it falls to me and Lash to find him. I really thought you'd be on board with this, feeling the way you do about him."
Rachel bit her lip. She wanted the information on Von Bolt so bad she could taste it, but she wasn't about to give up everything she had at Orange Star and go all in with a Black Hole renegade and The Great Gazoo. She had a nice job, a good paycheck, and a pretty nice house. Well, it was a pretty nice house. Now it was full of bullet holes and some broken glass.
He shook his head in disappointment. "Sorry for wasting your time. I'm sure you can find the way out."
Rachel sat back and blinked. "Huh?"
Hawke looked down at his paperwork. "If you're not interested, we don't have anything to talk about. Enjoy your boring desk job."
"My job is not boring! It just so happens to be very important!"
"I'm sure it's fascinating." He said, not looking up. "Filling out forms and literally watching grass grow...it sounds very engaging. I think it suits you far better than commanding armies like you were trained to do."
"What! I was a great wartime leader!"
"Of course." Hawke said, still not taking an active interest in the conversation. That was starting to irritate the girl.
"Just because I'm not out winning battles doesn't mean it's not important!"
"You're absolutely correct. Cleaning up after Von Bolt is much more important than finding him and making him do it."
"I am not cleaning up after him!"
Hawke let out a sigh, and looked up from his work. "Is there something you want?"
"Wha…you brought me here!"
"Yes." Hawke said. "You told me you weren't interested in my offer. I have nothing else to discuss with you. I really need your help, but those trees won't plant themselves. Good luck with your secret admirer too. I'm sure now that the first attempt has failed, they'll be upping the ante. You may not even hear the shot that kills you next time." He focused on his papers again. "Anyway, I'm done wasting your time. Please stop wasting mine. I have a lot to do before Lash and I move in on Sparky."
"Where is he?" Rachel asked, not so eager to miss a chance to find him.
"I'm sorry, Rachel. I really would like to tell you, but you don't want any part of this. Goodbye."
It wasn't that she wasn't interested. Nothing would make her happier. She just couldn't abandon her work. Restoring Omega Land was an important task, and not just anyone could do it. She was a vital part of the AN's mission! Oh, who am I kidding? She was painfully aware of how menial her job was. A seven-year-old with a mild concussion could do it, and she hated being pigeon-holed in a boring job going nowhere. Not only that, but what about the soldiers that broke into her home? Would another team be on its way next week with orders to kill on sight?
Hawke looked up from his work again. "I see you're still here. If you want someone to talk to, may I recommend a councilor?"
Stay with the job I hate, or find the old man? Get to the bottom of that attack on my home, or go home and wait for the next attack? Bring Von Bolt to justice or spend the next several weeks listening to Jake and Sami say they almost had him?
"Let's say I did help you?" Rachel asked. "Not that I'm committing, or anything. What would happen, hypothetically speaking?"
That got Hawke's attention, which gave Rachel a little satisfaction.
"Like I said, I know things. I can help you deal with your mysterious friend. In return, you'd play a pivotal role in catching Von Bolt."
"What would I be doing?"
Hawke turned the vanilla folder around and pushed it over to her.
She took a look at it, and her eyes nearly popped out of her head. "What? What! There's no way!" Rachel looked at Hawke. "This is a joke, right? This has to be a joke!"
"No. Those are the duties you'd perform." Hawke said, leaning on the desk. "Hypothetically speaking."
She looked at the folder again, to make sure her eyes didn't deceive her. "You can't be serious."
"I know it's a lot to ask of you." He said, pushing the glasses up on his nose. "But make no mistake, I wouldn't ask if it wasn't necessary."
Rachel looked the form over again, reading aloud. "Serve as an operative in the KSK…utilize expert level Scharfschütze and CQC training…perform guerilla and unconventional warfare tactics…execute clandestine operations…perform the duties required to wage asymmetric warfare..." she looked up at Hawke. "What the hell is all this?"
"I told you: a laundry list of you'd be doing to find the Bolt Guard."
"Okay, you lost me at the offer. After seeing this crap, though, you've seriously gone off the deep end. You really think I'd know anything about CQC? Let's not even get in to what I assume is 'expert level' sharpshooting! I barely qualified in Orange Star's marksmanship program! What the hell is the KSK anyway?"
"It stands for the Kommando Spezialkräfte, but that's not important. Do you accept?"
"Hold on. I wanna make sure I understand this. You want me, a CO that's been trained to strategize and lead with most of my career consisting of training new COs, commanding armies, and spending the last several months sitting on my ass overseeing the restoration effort..." she said incredulously. "You want me to play Jane Rambo on some crusade against Von Bolt? I'm curious, who's your second choice? Sensei?"
"Well, he was a paratrooper."
"You see! Even he's a better choice than me!" Rachel said. Christ, I'm ranking myself behind someone who gets lost in his own house. I have serious self esteem issues. "Why didn't you just call Sami? She's done that crap her whole life! She'd be way better at this sort of thing."
"Because I need you."
"Gee, if only lunatics in trench coats did it for me." She said as she dropped the file onto the desktop. "I'm the wrong person for this!"
Hawke shrugged. "I won't make you participate. Just be aware of what the alternative is."
"Yeah yeah," she said, standing up and turning to leave. "Behind door number two is a creepy mystery guy twirling a handlebar mustache and plotting my demise."
"You are aware that they may step on others to get to you, aren't you? Nell, Jake, Sasha…they all could be in the line of fire."
Rachel stopped, and slowly turned around. "Is that a threat?"
Hawke met her steely gaze. "It's a possibility."
She didn't want to admit it, but he was definitely on to something. The girl was a little embarrassed: she was so worried about her own safety that she hadn't considered that scenario at all. As much as she wanted to rule it out, she couldn't. Anyone who'd come sneaking in to her house while she was taking a bath would probably stoop to using her friends or family to get what they want from her in a heartbeat. Out of everything, even more than a chance at Von Bolt, that made her stop and honestly consider accepting Hawke's ridiculous offer. The girl could live with being a target. She wasn't sure how she'd handle it, but she'd find a way. Someone torturing Nell to get what they wanted from her was a different ballgame entirely. Jake being shot or Sasha getting raped and murdered all because she didn't take steps to protect the ones she loved from her problems…she couldn't bear the thought.
Hawke could tell he had struck a chord, and had the sense not to push harder. He had her attention, and more importantly, he had her thinking about what could happen. Cold and callous as it was, that's exactly what he wanted. He wanted her imagination to run wild with macabre possibilities. It wasn't the nicest way to handle things, but he had never been in danger of winning a popularity contest. If it got her on board, he'd done his job. If she still walked away, she wasn't nearly as frightened as she should have been. He watched the gears turn behind Rachel's charcoal grey eyes for a few moments before she finally spoke. "Alright, I'll do it."
Hawke removed his glasses, set them on the desk, and smiled. "Capital. It's good to have you."
Rachel placed her hands on the desk and got nose to nose with the Black Hole CO. "You better hold up your end. I'm not doing this because I want to and I'm not doing this for you or your little quest. I'm doing this because if I see a photo of Sasha with her throat slit, it'll tear the heart right out of me. I'm doing this for her and all the others I love. If you don't come through, then there's not a thing on this 'laundry list' of yours that will come close to what I'll do to you. Got it?"
The smile faded, but Hawke didn't concede an inch. "We understand each other."
Rachel stood up straight, surprised at just how tough she could be in defense of her friends. Despite her threats, she couldn't help but think it would have been so much more impressive if she wasn't wearing white pajama bottoms covered in yellow smiley faces.
Hawke rose from his seat as well. "Lash will take you to your room here. Make a list of things you want recovered from your home and we'll do what we can. Also, I'd recommend spending the next day resting up and preparing yourself for a very hard road."
"Why?"
"I'm going to have to train you all over again, and we don't have near the time we need. This means an intensive crash course in Black Hole's special operations training. The regular schedule is difficult enough: condensing like I'll have to will probably make you wish someone would bludgeon you to death with a dessert spoon."
Rachel let out a sigh. She had seen all the things she'd be expected to do, and she knew those things wouldn't come easy to a girl who'd spent the last several months in an ergonomic office chair playing computer games. Then she thought about Sasha, Nell, and Jake. They were worth protecting. She could stomach any pain and overcome any challenge if it kept them safe. Her only regret was it didn't look like she'd be seeing any of them for a while. She closed her eyes and hoped they'd understand.
Vorpommern Island, Black Hole, Cosmo Land
Major Bauer had dreaded this moment ever since he learned the Blackout Team wouldn't be coming back. Now he had the delightful responsibility of telling his superior the mission had failed. He had promised results. He said the warlord wouldn't be disappointed. As he descended into the bunker, it seemed so much more crypt-like than ever before. He entered the conference room, and took a deep breath. Time to bite the bullet. He approached the table and bowed his head. "My lord."
"Yes?" came the mechanical voice. "What do you have to report?"
"The Blackout Team…" he said, fighting to maintain composure. "…has failed its mission. They did not get the envelope or Rachel."
"Is that so?"
Bauer struggled to speak. "A black Neotank was seen in the area. It apparently gunned down the team and left with Rachel on board. I can confirm it is not one of ours, but not who sent it."
The Major felt sick, awaiting the inevitable. There were a few moments of silence as his warlord appeared to be deep in thought. About what, he didn't know nor did he want to think about it.
"Hmm…a Neotank you say?"
"Yes, my lord."
"So we can assume a third party has taken interest in this envelope. The list of possible candidates is very short."
"Yes, my lord."
The warlord thought a moment. "Major Bauer, I want you to do something for me."
"Yes my lord! Anything!" he said, almost falling over. No one got a second chance.
"I realize now, you were not the right choice for this assignment. It is time to call in a group that will handle this."
"Yes my lord."
"Contact the Sicherheitsdienst. Have them send Team 101 here."
The Major broke into a cold sweat. "Team 101?"
"Yes. They will handle this."
Bauer nodded. "Yes my lord." He had only met them once, but once was enough. They were an eccentric bunch. Eccentric and incredibly dangerous. If they were being sent after Rachel, the officer almost felt sorry for her. Almost.
"Now get out of my sight." The warlord grumbled. He watched the officer go with slight frustration. It was rare for such failure to be tolerated but Major Bauer had brought much needed manpower. There were many soldiers loyal to him who followed his decision to join the uprising. As much as the warlord wanted to demonstrate the extent of his mercy, he needed Bauer's men. That meant he needed the Major, at least for a little while longer. The leader looked at an old clock hanging from the grey wall and considered how long it would take to gather the team and send them out here. It would probably be about a week, but well worth the wait. They wouldn't make mistakes. The results might be a bit messy, but they'd be results nonetheless.
Potomac City, Orange Star, Cosmo Land
Rachel and Max sat on a white couch discussing a new proposal for the Allied Nations. The sunlight poured through the large windows, bringing out the vibrant blue plush carpet and the elegant ivory of the walls. Portraits of former leaders watched the CO's like vigilant guardians of Orange Star, their perpetual gazes frozen in a judgmental stare as if daring each incumbent to forget their pledge to the country. A secretary walked through the oak double doors to the Presidential Office and approached the Commander-in-chief and her colleague. "Ms. President, I'm so sorry to interrupt you, but there's been an incident in Omega Land."
Both Nell and Max looked at the young girl. "An incident?" Nell finally asked.
"I know this may be hard for you, but there's been an attack on Rachel's home."
Nell placed a hand over her mouth, and Max's stood up to face the messenger. "What?"
"Rachel is nowhere to be found. Witnesses say a black Neotank drove away from the scene."
The big man's face turned beet red. "Black Hole! Those sons of bitches!"
The secretary recoiled from Max's outburst. "I'm so sorry, Ms. President. The Orange Star forces are working with local investigators to find out what happened. They haven't had much luck, I'm afraid."
Max turned to Nell, who had buried her face in her hands. "Send me over there! I'll get'er back!"
Nell looked up from her hands. "No Max."
"What?" He turned to her. "I'm tellin' you I can find her! Give me five minutes with Lash, and we'll know what's going on! Those sumbitches have gone too far this time!"
"Max, please settle down." Nell's voice was soft, but strained. "We need to handle this in a calm, collected manner. Losing our heads won't do anything for Rachel."
"Yeah, but bustin' some heads might!"
"Max, please."
"She's your sister! How can you tell me to calm down!"
Nell looked up at Max, her gaze angrier than he'd ever seen her. "Max I don't have the luxury of letting my emotions get the better of me! Say we do things your way. You go over there and throw your weight around and start a witch hunt. Where would that go? Nowhere! And it will make the Allied Nations less willing to cooperate. Whoever did this wants a knee-jerk reaction. They want us to go off half cocked.
"Yeah, but we can't just let this slide!"
"We won't, Max. I have every intention of getting Rachel back. We're not going to go about it like a lynch mob, though. We're going to keep cool, and show the perpetrators they aren't getting to us. Meanwhile, I want you and Andy to go to the Allied Nations and explain the situation. See if you can get everyone involved in the investigation and looking out for the perpetrators. I don't want the scumbags having a crack on this planet to scurry in to. We'll pool our resources and hunt them down like dogs." Nell stood up, the fire in her eyes fading but her face still resolute. "And when we find them, they'll wish they were never born."
Abandoned Base, Calw, Int'l Zone India-3
Rachel lay on what may have been considered a bed in some parts of the world. With a little imagination, she could almost convince herself there were springs in her mattress. As she stared up at the plain white ceiling, her mind was trying to wrap itself around everything that had happened. Why me? I don't know the first thing about special operations. There are so many other people who'd be a better choice; why did he pick me? Rachel could literally assemble a completely random crowd of grunts, pick a handful while blindfolded, and form a team that knew more about this sort of thing than she did.
Another thing that bothered her was Hawke's quasi-threat. She didn't think he was threatening her, nor did she believe he was behind the so-called "Blackout Team." Assembling a team to get her only to send Lash to stop them and get her anyway? It was really odd way to go about things. No, she definitely believed he was telling the truth about helping her out: he already had once and knew enough about what was happening to intervene just in the nick of time. Would he be able to keep my friends safe? That was the million dollar question that haunted the girl. Would he really look after them? She planned to find out when she wasn't too tired to think straight. Too many things were happening so fast and she was struggling to keep her head above water. For now, she just needed to take things one step at a time and hope she didn't walk off a cliff.
Machine Shop 2, Abandoned Base
Lash was busy digging through a pile of scrap when Hawke entered the cluttered workshop. As he walked through the large hangar door, he was immediately hit by the biting odor of grease and steel. Looking around the vast workshop, he gave a beleaguered sigh. How the engineer could find anything in this place was beyond the man. To say it was like a junk yard would be an insult to junk yards. God only knew what was living in all the scrap piles lying around. Then again, that was assuming anything could survive in here for more than a few hours. That was too much credit to give an organism, even bacteria.
Just in front of the door sat Gustav, facing away from the entrance. The Black Hole commander couldn't help but feel a little respect for it. Well, as much as he could muster for a machine. Gustav had been Lash's prototype Neotank. The very first of what would become a global staple of armored warfare, it had outlived hundreds of its so-called "later and greater" rotund brethren. It was a testament to Lash's engineering prowess and a prime example of getting something right the first time: for all of the modifications to the design that the AN had made, none came close to the original.
"Lash?" He called out.
There was a clanging and rustling as the girl scrambled out from behind a mass of gears, pipes, scrap metal, and assorted parts. "Yeah?"
"Have you made any headway on that problem we discussed?"
Lash wiped her grease-splotched forehead with a sleeve. It left behind more grime than it removed. "Eh, not really. When you get to messing with people's brains, things get really complicated. You can't just override anything and ya gotta be careful with any backdoors you sneak through. Sorry, but I don't have anything that doesn't involve a high chance of permanent damage."
Hawke nodded somberly. He knew all too well what happened when you screwed up a person's head. Flak was never the same after his incident. It was a shame too; the burly man was a great operative with a sharp mind before undergoing mind-altering procedures. Hawke was just too impatient then: his result-centered thinking got the better of him and convinced him to take risks he shouldn't have. It left him with no results and a mentally scrambled subordinate. Not this time. I won't make the same mistakes. Contradictory to popular belief, Lash had almost nothing to do with Flak's mental state. The Bundeswehr was experimenting with different procedures that would enhance and suppress certain parts of the brain. The extent of Lash's involvement was keeping the project alive after her being the first major success in a long line of failures. Hawke wasn't proud of his own involvement, but he wasn't going to apologize for it either. The fruits of the project offered memory suppression therapy for soldiers haunted by PTSD or victims of violent crimes; and the enhancement end offered solutions to any disorders linked to diminished brain activity in certain areas. Was it unethical? Oh hell yes, but the benefits ultimately made it worth the cost.
"Keep working on it. Let me know if you make any progress. I'm going to make sure Rachel settled in okay." He said, then turned and left.
"Will do!" she replied, and walked up the ramp into the Neotank. She sat down in the driver's seat to take a break from digging through scrap piles in pursuit of an elusive castellated nut. "Whew!"
A red eye on the control panel focused in on her. "Is everything okay, Mistress Lash?"
"I dunno, Gustav." She said to the computerized male voice as she turned to watch Hawke walk back to the administration building. "Something's up."
"There are many things above our current location."
"I don't mean that." She replied, swiveling back around to the control panel. "It's just that…well, something's bothering him. I've never seen Hawke so…
"Preoccupied?"
"Yeah!"
"He does have a lot on his mind."
"I know: this whole Von Bolt thing…but I don't think that's it. He's just...different for some reason."
How could you tell? He always seems the same to me."
"Oh, whadda you know?"
"My file registry contains seven billion six hundred forty-three million two hundred seventeen thousand five hundred thirty-eight entries on a variety of subjects."
Lash let out a sigh. Why do machines have to be so…mechanical? "Well, obviously 'rhetorical question' isn't one of them!"
"Searching…entry found. A rhetorical question is..."
"Don't tell me! I know what it is!" Lash interjected while closing her eyes and rubbing her temples. "Call me crazy, but I think he's a little different now that Rachel's here. He seems kinda distracted...but happy." Well, happy by Hawke standards. Why, though? She knew his story of wanting her to be some kind of special agent, but it didn't take Lash's powers of calculation to see the CO didn't have much to offer in that area.
"Dunno what he wants her for," she said more to herself than anyone else, "But it ain't for this G.I. Joe stuff."
Author's Notes
Well, I know I said I had this chapter all figured out. That was about three major re-writes ago. Next time I say that, would someone punch me in the face? Ugh. Still, I think it was worth it and am pretty happy with the way it turned out. I was going to have Gustav speak in small caps, but FFN doesn't support that and I figured all caps would be annoying. Still, regular quotes doesn't seem mechanical enough for a machine. W/e. Thanks for reading.
~Ghost
