Beach Head blinked as a bead of sweat dropped from his brow and nearly into his eye. It was hot and the air was thick with water vapor. Sometimes he enjoyed it, seeing it as a mix of steam bath and good old rugged patrolling. Sometimes it just felt miserable. It was starting to lean towards the latter, mostly because Beach Head was getting bored of wandering through the rain forest without danger or objective. Even he had to chastise himself for getting complacent, which led him to worry about how the others were doing.
Recondo would be fine for sure. He was like a kid in a candy shop in the Amazon. Lifeline and Ripcord seemed like dutiful types, but Beach Head wouldn't be surprised if the trekking about had dulled their senses. Rock n' Roll was the most laid back of the bunch, but he seemed to operate on a totally different wavelength than what Beach Head was used to. The Joes on a whole operated differently than Beach Head expected. It was going to take some experimentation to lead effectively, but Beach Head put trust into his own skills and experiences. Furthermore, just because they were Joes didn't mean they didn't need a good kick in the butt like any other soldier.
Beach Head was glad to finally be rid of the villagers, at least. They had found a friendly neighboring settlement where they were willing to stay. Marshalling a bunch of civilians through rough terrain with minimal communication had been a real headache, even if they were more used to the area than the Joes. Beach Head rolled his eyes remembering Recondo's lecture on how many languages existed in places like these and how rapidly they were dying out and how sad that was from an anthropological standpoint. In theory, Beach Head knew what Recondo was saying, but at the time he felt no heartbreak.
A familiar bird screech brought Beach Head's gaze to the tree tops. He didn't have much expertise when it came to species details, but he had told himself to remember and listen for the sound. "Is that Spirit's – "
"Yeah, that's Freedom. He's probably spotted us by now," said Recondo.
The eagle was quickly upon them. This unnerved Beach Head. He was unsure how to react and thus chose not to, Freedom taking up residence on his shoulder. He just hoped he maintained some semblance of dignity through the entire ordeal.
Sending sensitive intelligence via bird seemed strange and archaic, but Beach Head couldn't come up with a better solution considering their current circumstances. The terrain they faced interfered with their available technological equivalents. Furthermore, the rest of the team seemed to have more faith in the bird. That was also somewhat unnerving.
Beach Head took no time in retrieving the note Freedom was carrying. He wanted to take care of it before Recondo offered to help. He appreciated the initiative but he wanted to show that he knew what he was doing - that he was in control. He preferred to lead better-defined and more planned out missions. It was intensely satisfying to see a mission go according to plan. It was a highly respected and commended skill as well. However, he was certain what got him into GI Joe was not just that, monkeys could do that if they put the time into it. He was a quick thinker and had a fine record of recovering missions that hadn't gone according to plan. That though was just a process of calmly and methodically applying ideas and skills to situations based on the information and resources available. Still, it made Beach Head uneasy, concerned that their might come a time when he might not be able to come up with a viable solution. That was something to ponder during idle times though, it would be wasteful to do so during a mission. Instead, he focused on concentrating all the more on his surroundings.
"It looks like Cobra's headed for another village," said Beach Head after having read the note. It was not good news. It would have been ideal had they been able to handle Cobra and their new toys before any more civilians were involved, but it was not to be. Beach Head had been considering their options given the situation during their trek. "We need to get there first, evacuate the inhabitants, and be ready and waiting for them when they get there."
"How much time do we have?" asked Recondo.
"Spirit guesses a couple days at most," said Beach Head. "We'll need to move quickly."
Beach Head shared the coordinates with Recondo. The group's detour to find a new home for the refugees from the first village had fortunately not taken them too far. It wasn't difficult to plan a route that would get them to the new village within half a day. After Beach Head had finished composing a return message and sending Freedom on his way, the group of Joes started heading in their new direction.
Following a few hours of walking in mostly silence, Ripcord spoke up. "How are we going to stop those things?" He didn't need to specify what he was talking about. Everyone understood he meant the automated shooters that the group had encountered when they first arrived.
"We'll use what we have around us," Beach Head said evenly as he continued to march forward, not looking back at Ripcord. "They got the jump on us last time, but this time we'll be prepared. Those Cobra machines have those wide treads. They're stabilizing sure, but we'll use those against them anyway. Even if they have decent suspension, which I doubt Cobra is willing to afford, they're still small. If we put enough crud in their way – rocks, logs, branches – whatever we can find, we can halt their advance."
"That won't be all though, we'll use vines to create a fence, like Spirit and Rock n' Roll did before. Those things weren't well equipped to deal with that last time. As long as we don't make them too regular, they'll blend into the jungle at a distance," Beach Head continued. "Then, once we have them caught, we can pelt them from all sides, even from above."
Rock n' Roll chuckled. "We'll be just like the Ewoks."
"The what?" asked Beach Head.
"The Ewoks, you know, from Star Wars."
Beach Head rolled his eyes. "Do I look like I have time to be wasting at movie theaters?"
"The third installment was the biggest film of last year!"
"That guy you joined us with, Sci-fi, he says he's seen each one of the movies over 50 times," said Ripcord.
"I'm surprised he didn't just recite the whole trilogy for you on the helicopter ride in," said Rock n' Roll.
"He can," added Ripcord.
"He makes for one ugly Leia though," said Rock n' Roll. He paused. "I bet Sci-fi will request a weekend pass when the rest of the movies hit theaters."
Beach Head simply grunted in response, long bored of the conversation.
"Aw come on Beach, you can't spend all your free time on PT," said Rock n' Roll. He dropped his light-hearted and confident tone. "Er, can you?"
Beach Head turned, grinning exaggeratedly through his mask. "Just be happy I'm not making us all lug every useful-looking rock we find along the way all the way to the village." He faced forward again. He didn't need to wait to see their eyes go wide at the thought.
There wasn't any real intention of having the group carry rocks. Beach Head was already concerned with possible fatigue issues that would undoubtedly come into play given the short amount of time they had to set up his plan. On a whole, Beach Head felt his fellow Joes relied too much on their innate gifts, and not enough on their sweat. They kept in good shape, but that monstrous talent allowed them to get away without pushing themselves to their limits. Hopefully, it wouldn't be an issue this time around. The Cobra troops might not be at peak form either, having been trekking through the rain forest for weeks, but their machines wouldn't have that problem.
Recondo stepped up next to Beach Head. He spoke softly enough that his words wouldn't necessarily carry backwards to Rock n' Roll, Ripcord and Lifeline. "I'm not sure we're going to be able to evacuate the village. It's one thing to convince them to go with you when they're being fired upon. It's a whole different ballgame when things are seemingly peaceful. They aren't going to trust outsiders. It would take me longer than a couple days to even get some of them to come with me so I could show them that Cobra is on their way."
Beach Head made a quick, sharp nod. He thought for a moment and then began speaking. "We'll have to set our trap as far from the village as we think possible, based on what we know from last time. Spirit can help with that. I've told him to meet us south of the site. You'll have to be ready to run interference when the bullets start flying."
"Right."
The rest of the hike was taken up with a rampant Star Wars discussion, mostly led by Rock n' Roll, though even Lifeline had some input. Beach Head didn't particularly mind. They spent enough time relating it back to their plans and morale seemed high. Sometimes, Recondo would point out some plant or other rain forest feature of interest. Beach Head made stronger mental notes of those.
Spirit was waiting when Beach Head's group reached the rendezvous point. While the others rested, Beach Head and Spirit discussed the Joes' plan with respect to the surroundings of the settlement and the advance of Cobra's team. As Beach Head had suspected, despite having just heard their ideas, Spirit had no trouble making suggestions as to viable sites.
Based on the previous Cobra altercation, Spirit had narrowed down their base of operations to three areas. The Joes would be taking a small gamble, but Spirit was confident in which one they would be using. He was also able to give an estimation of how much time they would have once they could tell for sure. Beach Head made the decision to focus their effort on Spirit's instincts, with what back up they could in case Cobra's plans differed.
There was a natural bottleneck of vegetation approaching the village from the perspective of Cobra's machines. This removed a bit of the pressure from their time table. However, it was a bit closer to the village than Beach Head would have liked. The Joes would have to be careful not to raise the ire of the people of the settlement. He would have to rely on Recondo to keep things calm throughout the build.
The Joes were more refreshed than Beach Head expected once he roused them from their break. They got to work with no complaint, for the most part. Lifeline made a big deal of helping build the vine fences and tripwires over the projectile traps, for whatever reason. The group had decided not to dig any pits for fear that it would later catch a stray villager. Recondo spent all of his time in the village, so they were down to four and a half men to booby trap the area – Spirit having to spend a lot of time keeping an eye on Cobra's troops.
Beach Head had considered bringing Ace and Quick Kick in for the operation. A few more men would certainly help. However, he didn't have a man to spare to bring them over and did not want to risk losing anyone in the jungle. It was true they were Joes and that Joes were good at finding their way into and out of trouble, but Beach Head didn't want to start relying on that if he didn't need to. He would plan things for their group as it stood. Furthermore, he liked the idea of having someone who could be in the air fast.
The Joes made good time. When it was decided they should play scarce, the group had constructed a pretty decent set of defenses. It helped that Cobra had taken longer than expected, having stopped to build installations of their own. Of course, Beach Head would also have preferred the Joes to have done more and had this been training, he wouldn't be so nice about admitting that it was solid work, but the Joes had lived up to his expectations this time. Recondo was showing obvious worry over his ability to get through the villagers, but Beach Head doubted anyone could do a better job.
Recondo and Lifeline would be staying back near the village to handle things over there. Rock n' Roll and Ripcord would be bombarding the Cobra robots from the trees. Beach Head and Spirit would go after Cobra's base camp after verifying that things were under control. They would stop these machines from the root once they were lured away, but for now, it was a waiting game.
#-#-#-#-#
Rock n' Roll leaned against a tree trunk, his legs stretching over the branch he was seated on, fingering a tune on a non-existent guitar. One might think he would play a somber rock ballad in the calm before a battle, but Rock n' Roll always played what he liked best. He believed the faster beats helped him stay alert.
The Joes had been laying low for quite some time, in case Cobra sent a live scout ahead. They hadn't. That seemed careless even for them. They hadn't sent out a mechanized scout either, but that was understandable. If the Joes could capture one of those, they would have a much better idea of what they were up against. It was unclear how complex the machines were and what level of artificial intelligence they might have.
"They can't make 'em any smarter than they are," Rock n' Roll quipped to himself.
"What was that?" Ripcord asked. He was crouched on a nearby branch.
The Joes had strung up a system of vines to aid in their travel from tree to tree, but support for any length of time would have to come from the branches They had hoisted a fair number of rocks and precariously positioned them throughout. They didn't have time for the grand scale booby-trapping that Rock n' Roll had first alluded to and there was concern over how much weight each branch could support. Thanks to Spirit, they were at least able to find enough vines to set up a criss crossing system above the trees as well as in the path of Cobra's robots.
"The machines," said Rock n' Roll. "Surely Cobra can't make machines that are smarter than they are themselves. They're probably not too smart then."
"Oh, right," said Ripcord. "Though, they're probably better at following orders, for better or for worse."
"Heh. Probably." Rock n' Roll grinned. He was about to continue the conversation when he heard the familiar shriek of Freedom. He looked back at Ripcord, who nodded knowingly. Cobra's machines had started moving their way.
The two Joes positioned themselves near their stone stockpiles. They weren't sure how fast Cobra's mechanical shooters were approaching, but according to the plan, Freedom would signal them when they were within a hundred yards of the traps. They only had so many rocks, so they would have to wait until the machines were stuck in the vines and then determine how to best use their limited ammunition.
Having more secured vine barriers, at multiple heights, seemed to work well this time. When the automatons reached the booby-trapped area, they found themselves stuck. Like before, they attempts to shoot the vines down which were in their way, but seemed to be having more with it. Varying the angles and ends had made a big difference.
To prevent a retreat, the Joes had rigged a 'back door' of sorts with the vines as well. Lines they had set up in advance could be pulled taut, creating a maze in all directions. The crossing vines reminded Rock n' Roll of laser-guarded valuables at museums. They had wanted to create nets to further tangle the the Cobra vehicles, but abandoned that plan due to time constraints.
Another big difference came from the rock attack from above. The assault served dual purposes. The rocks damaged the machines on the way down and then became obstacles for the machines to overcome once on the ground. Ripcord was especially adept at his use of the stones, often knocking the guns off of Cobra's new weapon. He displayed a natural understanding of where things were when looking down and how things would fall.
"We're doing a better job of containing them this time," Ripcord said as he descended onto a branch near Rock n' Roll's from the vine network. "I don't know how long it will stay that way though. These things don't give up."
"Yeah," said Rock n' Roll. "Have you noticed, they never seem to aim up at us though? I wonder if it's because they can't or because they haven't realized we're up here."
"I hope it's the former."
Rock n' Roll picked out an out-of-place bird call out of the background of rain forest and robots. His ears were good at picking things like that out. He sometimes worried about the damage he might be doing to his hearing between the volume of his music and the sounds of artillery, but he couldn't imagine not listening to either. He looked to the ground, just outside the path of the Cobra machines, to see Spirit with Beach Head.
Beach Head made a signal indicating the two of them were going to make their move. Rock n' Roll had wanted to go with Beach Head initially, but it made sense that Spirit should go because he knew Cobra's camp best and with the machines a new and not entirely known threat, more than one of them needed to stay and do what needed to be done near the village.
While the number of human Cobra troops had been low according to Spirit, Rock n' Roll was still concerned. Regardless, Beach Head and Spirit would be greatly outnumbered. Beach Head seemed to trust they could do it though and he was a pretty astute guy. He seemed to know exactly what he could do and do it without hesitation. He didn't even need to stop and think, he just knew. The only thing he didn't know was how much credit he should really be giving himself for his own feats.
#-#-#-#-#
Major Bludd's eyes skimmed over a page in the book of sonnets he always kept with him, unable to concentrate on it due to Colonel Mustard's racket. Bludd had found the then not-so-tattered volume on the ground near an enemy he had felled, back when he was in the Foreign Legion. The fight had gone to bayonets, he recalled. After all was said and done, he found the book a curiosity amongst the sticky fluids and mud the surrounded the man he had just killed. He wasn't sure why he picked it up but it had become a bit of a luck charm over the years. If anything else, it often offered sanctuary from boredom.
Boredom easily described Mustard's battles. There was not much to do, it was pretty much the man and his radio controls. Bludd did occasionally look at the progress through his telescope. It was always the same march of machines.
Things had been dreadfully boring since their altercation with the Joes, wherever they had gone. Mustard moved at a pace so slow that even the notoriously lazy troops they had with them were feeling the drag. The man seemed to be playing safari. As if that wasn't enough to get under Major Bludd's skin, he was still trying to buddy up to him, ever so transparently and clumsily trying to become part of Cobra's inner circle.
Despite his obvious desire to ingratiate himself, Colonel Mustard never scaled back his ego. He was always quick to point out how right he was. Major Bludd had decided just to let him be rather than waste his breath yelling at him. There was no making suggestions to a man like that, so Bludd didn't bother. He was annoying enough as it was. However, he was usually not so bad that one couldn't just escape into a well-traveled tome of verse.
Mustard always had a tendency to talk and grunt to himself while working. Bludd wasn't sure whether he was trying to get attention that way or not. This time it was particularly bad though. He was obviously frustrated, mostly grunting, though occasionally something comprehensible like 'why isn't this working!?' could be heard. Major Bludd sighed. He supposed he should take the bait.
"Things not going as planned... 'old chap?'" Bludd couldn't help but throw in a few barbs as he walked over to Mustard's command center at the other side of their hastily constructed tree hut.
"It's unheard of," Colonel Mustard managed to say through gritted teeth. He sharply picked up his binoculars again. He had been rapidly switching between them and his control panel. "We haven't ever had a problem with terrain before but suddenly there's a mess of vines and the machines are breaking. It is as if Fortune herself is against us."
"'Fortune,' right." Bludd nodded in mock understanding.
"It's going to take me a while to cut through all this," Mustard said huffily, still rapidly beating on his controls.
Major Bludd extended his scope to more carefully examine the predicament of Mustard's machines. "This is the work of Joes."
"What?! That's poppycock! I sent the Joes running with their tails between their legs!"
"Looks like you sent them running ahead of us then."
"Bah! I'll just shoot them down again!" Colonel Mustard clutched his binoculars tightly, intently scanning the area for human targets.
Major Bludd frowned. He turned his scope on their own camp. They had troops both playing look out from the tree huts and on the ground in case of a sneak assault. They were apparently doing a bad job of it however as two of them were missing from their posts. Major Bludd decided he would not take any chances. He took direct and confident strides towards his own transmitter on the other side of the tree hut.
"Hello? This is Bludd," he spoke into the mic. "Ready the FANGs."
Flipping a switch on the transmitter, Bludd continued, "We're missing two men in the northeast ground position. G.I. Joe activity is suspected. Approach and fire at will."
"Just what are you doing?" Colonel Mustard stood up from his station and began making his way towards Major Bludd. "Did you forget that I am the one in charge of this mission?"
"No I have not forgotten," Bludd said, his eye narrowed. "I just have no intention of being captured by Joes. You can go back to playing with your toys if you wish. The rest of us are going to deal with the situation right here."
Major Bludd turned swiftly towards the exit of the hut and made his descent.
#-#-#-#-#
Spirit moved silently behind another Cobra soldier. He caught the man in a strangle hold. The agent fought but was no match. He tried calling for help but could only gurgle. This was the second man that Spirit had taken out in such a fashion. Assuming Beach Head had done the same to the agent's partner, that brought their total up to four. There were still twelve more to go, in addition to Major Bludd and the man in khaki.
"Hey! They're over here! To the southeast!" The voice of another Cobra agent rang out through the din before he and his partner opened fire.
It seemed Spirit would not be having time to tie up the agent at his feet. He grabbed the man's weapons and ducked behind the closest tree of reasonable girth. He had planned on dismantling the Cobra laser rifle, but now that he had been discovered, he concluded the extra might come in handy.
Spirit turned to one side of the tree and fired back a volley at the Cobra troops to keep them at a distance. As he was doing so, he caught sight of Beach Head using the opportunity to rendezvous with him. The ranger stopped at a neighboring tree.
"They finally caught on," Beach Head said flatly. "I got my man. You?"
"He's unconscious, didn't have time to clean up."
Beach Head simply nodded. "We'll take care of him later. There's no time now. We have to take these guys out before there gets to be too many of them."
"These two are probably from the nearest lookout post," Spirit said, referring to the tree-born shacks that Cobra had constructed. "They've probably alerted the others.
"Alright, then let's proceed to the next phase." Beach Head ran off again, to execute his part of the plan. He would continue to take out the enemy, while Spirit provided cover fire.
As Spirit suspected, Beach Head chose to employ close range sniping. It didn't require much preparation or time though it did make the ranger easier to find. However, since there were only two of them, Beach Head was able to take the second guy down before he was spotted.
It was not a moment too soon as four more Cobra agents appeared from the other side. It was the men from the southwest outpost and ground positions. Spirit scrambled around to the other side of his tree to shield himself from enemy fire. Despite his return volleys, he found himself being pushed back several lines of foliage to Beach Head's position.
"It will be significantly more difficult this time," Spirit said. Already two more agents had joined the four that were firing upon them.
"I'll just have to keep at them until it's not as difficult," said Beach Head. "The other four, which direction do you think they'll be coming from?"
"They'll likely meet up with the others. It's too long a path and too great a risk of friendly fire to do otherwise," said Spirit. "With that many, they'll be able to close in on us."
"Right," said Beach Head. He took off too make another pass at the Cobra soldiers. He did not get far before he had to duck out of the way of heavier fire. Large laser beams tore through trunk of the tree right next to him, missing him by inches.
Spirit looked up, hearing the tell-tale sound. There were three Cobra FANGs hovering above the troops.
Major Bludd hung from the rung of a rope ladder coming out of the rear chopper. He appeared to be making his way inside.
Beach Head ran back towards Spirit. "I didn't know they had FANGs."
"Nor did I," said Spirit.
The two Joes found what cover they could as they were continuously pressed back out of the Cobra territory. Spirit was only able to fire back at the oncoming Cobra agents infrequently at best. While the Cobra helicopters did not have a clear shot due to the plant life, they provided more than ample threat for the Joes.
Beach Head was obviously frustrated by the situation. Even through his balaclava, Spirit could see how tightly Beach Head had set his jaw. Both of them were fighting hard but at the same time searching for some sort of solution, or at the very least, some way to gain back their footing. Unfortunately, things were looking grim. It wasn't long before the two Joes had given up on any pretense of holding ground and had broken out into full run.
It was the kind of run only sustainable through adrenaline. There was no time to think about tiring, just about what could be done to somehow move one's body faster still. Spirit felt as though his legs couldn't cut through the air fast enough. Though he was keeping a sprinting pace, it felt as if everything was moving far too slowly.
Then, Spirit tripped.
It might have been an errant root or a slick of mud or an unfortunately placed rock that did him in. Spirit wasn't sure. He found himself crashing to the ground so fast and for some reason he wasn't able to prepare a quick recovery. He breathed heavily, the exertion catching up with him. He knew he had to pick himself back up, somehow through Cobra's laser assault. He knew his chances weren't good.
Just as Spirit was about to make his move, he heard the familiar sound of a Skystriker. He felt his breath loosen and his lips widen into a smile. By the time he was on his feet, he could see the FANGs scattering.