I decided to post the rest of chapter 1 so everyone could have a sense of the factions in the story, the locations, and how the layout of the story will continue. I hope you enjoy!

Utah Undisclosed Location

Mainframe clicked a few keys, flipped a final switch, and gave Dial-Tone a quick thumbs-up. "Up-link back on-line. You're good to go."

"Sorry we lost audio for a moment. What's your status out there?" Dial-Tone asked. It irritated him to have any technical issues but being in a new base there were some things that weren't up to par yet, no matter what was done.

"I've reached the summit," Alpine's voice transmitted through the headset.

Dial-Tone replied, "Great, you're coming in loud and clear! Now, if you look ahead, you should see an observation tower poking out of the treetops."

There was a short radio silence as Alpine scanned the distance. The small camera mounted on his harness recorded video of his surroundings for the base to review later. "There it is. Looks like a bit of a hike, but I should be there pretty quick since I don't have any sightseers with me on this trip."

"Yeah, Bazooka wasn't exactly jumping at the bit to go climbing today I guess?"

Alpine laughed. "Climbing isn't exactly his strong suit. I'd trust him any day to have my back on the battlefield, but when I'm trying to get somewhere in a hurry… let's just say someone who can be that easily distracted isn't my number one pick for a climbing partner."

"Understood. Radio back when you get to the tower and Mainframe and I will walk you through connecting the surveillance cameras."

"Will do. Alpine out."

"Copy that," Dial-Tone said as he leaned back in his chair. He had been waiting for a routine day like this - just a simple task of helping set up some new equipment on the outpost perimeter.

"This hunk of junk is on the fritz!" Shipwreck yelled as he swatted at the side of a monitor hanging near the doorway. "Probably manufactured by some blasted blue shirt in Springfield somewhere!"

Mainframe and Dial-Tone simultaneously jerked their heads around.

"This is all new tech," Dial-Tone said, spinning back around to his terminal, initiating a scan of information going in and out of the base. "No way we should have any bugs this soon."

Mainframe looked over at Dial-Tone. "Could Cobra have sent a virus? No one should even know about this location!" He was checking the computer inputs for anything out of the ordinary.

"Doesn't look like we've got any intrusive signals," Dial-Tone replied, his fingers rapidly dancing over the keyboard.

"As soon as I run a deeper scan to verify we're secure, I'll get a call out to Breaker, see if they're seeing anything like this back home."

Cover Girl walked into the command room and shook her head. "Really, Shipwreck? This is where you go when we won't let you change the channel in the break room?"

"Look, if all you and Cross Country want to watch are cars driving in circles, that's fine. I prefer my car chases with gigantic Hollywood explosions." He turned to the two computer experts. "Now, maybe one of you two tell me why this thing won't pick up the movie channels? And is it too much to ask for a chair so I can be comfortable?"

Dial-Tone threw his hands up. "Unbelievable."

"Because it's not a television, Shipwreck! That's a computer monitor tied into the government's orbital surveillance satellites!" Mainframe shouted back.

"No wonder it was so boring. Just trees and water everywhere. C'mon, Polly. Let's head back to the break room, see if we can change the channel during commercials."

The parrot chirped in response, "Back to the break room! Squawk! Look at the legs on Cover Girl"

Shipwreck's face turned red as he walked past his teammate and started running before she had a chance to slug him. "You stupid bird! I thought we agreed you wouldn't repeat what I say in private!"

Cover Girl followed him out in the hallway, her voice carrying through the closing door. "Get back here you slimy sailor!"

"Look, man. I am telling you my eyesight is fine!" The large man's voice boomed. "These lights just make it hard to see."

Lowlight looked downrange at the targets. All shots that the larger man had fired would have been hits, but only half of them would have been lethal. "Roadblock, that may be fine in the open field, but in tight spaces, you need to be more accurate."

Roadblock sat the small pistol down on the firing station. "This pea shooter isn't something I'd use anyway." He walked over to the weapon rack and pulled down his large .50 caliber and walked back to the line. "Me and Ma Deuce here don't need to hit a bullseye. We just need to put enough lead down field for you finesse guys to work your magic." He reached down for the ammo box, but Lowlight stopped him.

"Fine, fine. No need to eat up the walls in our new base just yet. We'll head outside for some live fire practice a little later. A bit of friendly competition?"

Roadblocked nodded. "Sounds like a plan! After I cook up a world class dinner, me and my little lady will show you who's the winner!"

"You're cooking? Last I heard, Gung Ho was in the kitchen finishing up a batch of his gumbo."

Roadblock's eyes grew wide. "That jarhead knows it was my turn for mess!" He gently placed the heavy weapon back on the rack before storming out of the firing range.

Lowlight pulled his rifle up to his shoulder and looked through the scope with a grin. "This should be a fun evening," he said as he fired off a single head shot through the furthest target shaped like a Cobra Trooper.

Stalker looked at the obstacle course set across the way from his office window. There might be some grumbling from a few Joes about running it in the heat, but he also knew it would be out of their system as soon as they complained out loud. His team knew the importance of being ready and sometimes that meant training under uncomfortable circumstances.

He was also aware a few of the team weren't back to one hundred percent yet, but they were still miles beyond any basic Cobra trooper they might encounter.

Roadblock's vision was still spotty at times. Gung Ho, Alpine, and Bazooka all suffered physically were minor bumps and bruises; however, their confidence had taken a hit because the blamed themselves for how the whole Cobra La war had started.

He wished they wouldn't blame themselves - nothing could have prepared them for that. Luckily, General Hawk stationed them out here away from too many distractions so they would be able to heal themselves in their own time.

The plan had started to work. Stalker noted the change in the team after a few days away from everything. He'd have to thank Hawk personally next time they were together.

Roadblock's voice interrupted his thoughts. "Stalker, why are you letting Gung Ho dish up dinner?"

Stalker looked at his visitor. "You're crazy if you think I'm getting in the middle of you two arguing over who's gonna cook." He stood from his chair and added with a smirk, "I do have to say whatever he's cooking up does smell pretty good. We might be about to have the most delicious we've ever had as a team."

Roadblock narrowed his eyes and stared at his commanding officer. "That's not funny, man."

Stalker walked over and clapped the larger man on the shoulder. "Let's just head down and see. And if I'm right, then you've got something to work toward."

"Hey, Stalker," Bazooka said between bites, "This all the team we're gonna get?"

Stalker looked around the tables at the members of the Joe team seated there - not even a dozen. He nodded. "For now, that's the way it sounds. I'm sure more will be joining us later, but for now, it's up to us to get this place in working order - and if we do it with a skeleton crew, then so be it."

"I know from the reports I received earlier that the cameras, comms, and computers are all operational." Stalker motioned to Dial Tone, Mainframe, and Alpine, "Thank you, gentlemen." He looked over to Lowlight, "I could hear action in the indoor firing range earlier. How is the outdoor range looking?"

The blond-haired man looked up, "Roadblock and I will actually be heading out to test it a little later - we'll see how well the layout Bazooka and I designed works."

"Motor pool progress?" the commanding officer asked. "It was looking a little cluttered last time I walked by."

Cross Country cleared his throat, "Now, c'mon Stalker. You know today was race day."

"What he means to say," Cover Girl interrupted, "was that we've almost got everything sorted out and the place should be in working order before sun-up tomorrow."

"Yeah," Shipwreck chimed in, "don't you worry at all. I'll make sure the place is ready to go."

Stalker raised an eyebrow and let the comment pass. "And between Gung Ho and Roadblock, it looks like we've got the mess hall covered." He glanced between the two men. "You two work out duty evenly - I don't want any scuffles or bruised egos. Understood?"

The two large men looked at each other and then focused on Stalker. Both nodded and that was all he needed to see.

"Thank you all for your hard work on getting us operational. It's going to be up to us to keep the show running out here until more people show up - could be tomorrow, could be next month. Stay focused and stay sharp."