A WEEK LATER.
"You up?" Scarlett said, standing in the doorway of roommate's bedroom.
Lady Jaye opened one eye slowly and lifted her head from the pillow. "Yep."
"Doesn't look like it."
"It's a gradual process."
Scarlett sat down on the edge of Jaye's bed. "Beachhead wants us in his office in thirty minutes. You want to shower first or should I?"
"You can go," Lady Jaye yawned.
Scarlett reached under the covers and shook Lady Jaye's foot affectionately. "You feeling okay, little sis?"
"Yes," Jaye said, giving her a light kick. "And I'm not the 'little sis' here. You are."
"Pull-ease! Everyone knows I'm the mature one."
Jaye bolted out of bed and put her hands on her hips. "Yeah RIGHT!"
"Got you out of bed," Scarlett winked, getting up.
Jaye pulled a face.
"Point for Shana," Scarlett grinned. "Look, I'm just asking because you don't seem to be eating much and you look pretty drained."
"You're the one who falls asleep at dinner."
"Sheer exhaustion after an intense workout is different than constantly walking around like a zombie."
"You're beginning to sound like Flint," Lady Jaye sighed, making her bed.
Scarlett shrugged and walked to the shower. "Maybe he's right - for once."
Lady Jaye put her hands on her cheeks in mock fright. "Shana agrees with Flint! Careful, folks, the apocalypse is near!"
***
Beachhead studied the maps of Australia on his desk for the fifth time that morning. As team captain, it was his responsibility to know everything about the terrain. What were the rough spots? The best places to rest? Where were they supposed to get water? It was one solid week of relying purely on survival skills. Of course, every G.I. Joe mission relied on survival skills, but this competition wasn't called the Ultimate Challenge for nothing. The course specialists - a team of psychiatrists and army strategists - were privy to all the competitors' classified personnel files. These files were guarded with the utmost secrecy, as was the work itself of the course specialists. They were in charge of not only breaking the soldiers physically, but also mentally. Perfect material for COBRA.
The event was held every four years and considered the secret Olympics of the military. It had been four years since Beachhead had competed.
Four years since he had suffered the ultimate humiliation.
In front of his other team members, namely Roadblock and Gung-Ho, he had broken down and cried. He knew the other two men would never tell anyone, but it still haunted him. The course specialists had found his weakness.
"Not going to get me this time," Beachhead swore to himself.
The memory of him on the ground, rocking back and forth in a fetal position, flashed in his mind. Beachhead gritted his teeth and slammed his fist down on the map.
"Not a fan of Down-Under?" Roadblock said smiling, peering into Beachhead's office. "Sorry, the door was open."
"Yeah, come in," Beachhead said, motioning him inside. "The others will be here in about five minutes."
Roadblock propped himself up against Beachhead's filing cabinet. "Can't believe I'm competing in this challenge again, man. You'd think I'd learnt my lesson."
"There's nothing better than a good challenge, soldier," Beachhead said, standing upright. "It's what the military is all about. You learn from challenge. You achieve greatness with challenge. Challenge is your ally. "
Roadblock nodded slowly and looked at him.
"What you staring at, soldier?"
"Nothing, just-"
"Just what?"
"Forget it, Beach," Roadblock said, shaking his head. "Forget it."
"FORGET WHAT?"
Roadblock folded his arms and met Beachhead's angry glare with his own. "I just wanted you to know that what happened last time, well, it wasn't a big deal. Water under the bridge, man."
Beachhead looked down at the maps. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Right, Beach. Whatever you say."
"Gung-Ho here, drill sergeant!" the marine said, standing in the doorway.
Beachhead breathed a sigh of relief. Last thing he wanted was a touchy- feely speech from Roadblock. "Come in, Gung-Ho."
"Lady Jaye and Scarlett reporting for duty," Scarlett said, walking in with Lady Jaye in tow.
"Jaye Bird, you look like shit," Beachhead said, studying Lady Jaye up and down.
"Thank you, Beachhead."
"Don't thank me, soldier," he snapped. "Do something about it. Flint told me you haven't been eating properly-"
"Ah, crap!" Lady Jaye burst out. "Sorry, Beach."
"I'd eat what Flint tells you to eat from now on," Beachhead hissed. "He IS a higher rank, in case you've forgotten. Have you forgotten Flint's rank at G.I. Joe, soldier?"
Lady Jaye's eyes narrowed at the insinuation. She knew full well he didn't approve of their relationship. "I haven't forgotten, Beachhead." Her voice was quiet but deadly.
There was a tense silence in the room. The two of them stared at each other, refusing to be the first to blink.
"Anyway," Roadblock said, looking worriedly at Scarlett. She bit her lip in return. "What's going on with the challenge?"
Beachhead peeled his eyes away from Lady Jaye's icy stare. "Well, as you know we have only a couple of days until we fly out to Sydney. I expect you've packed and re-packed and double-checked your backpacks. There should be NO wasted space. Everything should fit together like Lego. You all got my list of supplies?"
The rest of the team nodded.
"Make sure everything is in there. Those are MUST HAVES, soldiers. I can't stress that enough. GOT IT? Good. Now, for the next coupla of days I want you to take it easy. I mean EASIER. Cut the workout in half. I need you all to be bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. Dismissed."
They turned to leave.
"And Lady Jaye," Beachhead said.
She spun on her heels and glared at him.
"Try and eat something," he said, his voice softening slightly. "Your body's had a bit of a shock. You might not have an appetite, but you've got to force it down. Trust me."
She nodded and smiled faintly before following the rest of them out the door.
***
"You up?" Scarlett said, standing in the doorway of roommate's bedroom.
Lady Jaye opened one eye slowly and lifted her head from the pillow. "Yep."
"Doesn't look like it."
"It's a gradual process."
Scarlett sat down on the edge of Jaye's bed. "Beachhead wants us in his office in thirty minutes. You want to shower first or should I?"
"You can go," Lady Jaye yawned.
Scarlett reached under the covers and shook Lady Jaye's foot affectionately. "You feeling okay, little sis?"
"Yes," Jaye said, giving her a light kick. "And I'm not the 'little sis' here. You are."
"Pull-ease! Everyone knows I'm the mature one."
Jaye bolted out of bed and put her hands on her hips. "Yeah RIGHT!"
"Got you out of bed," Scarlett winked, getting up.
Jaye pulled a face.
"Point for Shana," Scarlett grinned. "Look, I'm just asking because you don't seem to be eating much and you look pretty drained."
"You're the one who falls asleep at dinner."
"Sheer exhaustion after an intense workout is different than constantly walking around like a zombie."
"You're beginning to sound like Flint," Lady Jaye sighed, making her bed.
Scarlett shrugged and walked to the shower. "Maybe he's right - for once."
Lady Jaye put her hands on her cheeks in mock fright. "Shana agrees with Flint! Careful, folks, the apocalypse is near!"
***
Beachhead studied the maps of Australia on his desk for the fifth time that morning. As team captain, it was his responsibility to know everything about the terrain. What were the rough spots? The best places to rest? Where were they supposed to get water? It was one solid week of relying purely on survival skills. Of course, every G.I. Joe mission relied on survival skills, but this competition wasn't called the Ultimate Challenge for nothing. The course specialists - a team of psychiatrists and army strategists - were privy to all the competitors' classified personnel files. These files were guarded with the utmost secrecy, as was the work itself of the course specialists. They were in charge of not only breaking the soldiers physically, but also mentally. Perfect material for COBRA.
The event was held every four years and considered the secret Olympics of the military. It had been four years since Beachhead had competed.
Four years since he had suffered the ultimate humiliation.
In front of his other team members, namely Roadblock and Gung-Ho, he had broken down and cried. He knew the other two men would never tell anyone, but it still haunted him. The course specialists had found his weakness.
"Not going to get me this time," Beachhead swore to himself.
The memory of him on the ground, rocking back and forth in a fetal position, flashed in his mind. Beachhead gritted his teeth and slammed his fist down on the map.
"Not a fan of Down-Under?" Roadblock said smiling, peering into Beachhead's office. "Sorry, the door was open."
"Yeah, come in," Beachhead said, motioning him inside. "The others will be here in about five minutes."
Roadblock propped himself up against Beachhead's filing cabinet. "Can't believe I'm competing in this challenge again, man. You'd think I'd learnt my lesson."
"There's nothing better than a good challenge, soldier," Beachhead said, standing upright. "It's what the military is all about. You learn from challenge. You achieve greatness with challenge. Challenge is your ally. "
Roadblock nodded slowly and looked at him.
"What you staring at, soldier?"
"Nothing, just-"
"Just what?"
"Forget it, Beach," Roadblock said, shaking his head. "Forget it."
"FORGET WHAT?"
Roadblock folded his arms and met Beachhead's angry glare with his own. "I just wanted you to know that what happened last time, well, it wasn't a big deal. Water under the bridge, man."
Beachhead looked down at the maps. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Right, Beach. Whatever you say."
"Gung-Ho here, drill sergeant!" the marine said, standing in the doorway.
Beachhead breathed a sigh of relief. Last thing he wanted was a touchy- feely speech from Roadblock. "Come in, Gung-Ho."
"Lady Jaye and Scarlett reporting for duty," Scarlett said, walking in with Lady Jaye in tow.
"Jaye Bird, you look like shit," Beachhead said, studying Lady Jaye up and down.
"Thank you, Beachhead."
"Don't thank me, soldier," he snapped. "Do something about it. Flint told me you haven't been eating properly-"
"Ah, crap!" Lady Jaye burst out. "Sorry, Beach."
"I'd eat what Flint tells you to eat from now on," Beachhead hissed. "He IS a higher rank, in case you've forgotten. Have you forgotten Flint's rank at G.I. Joe, soldier?"
Lady Jaye's eyes narrowed at the insinuation. She knew full well he didn't approve of their relationship. "I haven't forgotten, Beachhead." Her voice was quiet but deadly.
There was a tense silence in the room. The two of them stared at each other, refusing to be the first to blink.
"Anyway," Roadblock said, looking worriedly at Scarlett. She bit her lip in return. "What's going on with the challenge?"
Beachhead peeled his eyes away from Lady Jaye's icy stare. "Well, as you know we have only a couple of days until we fly out to Sydney. I expect you've packed and re-packed and double-checked your backpacks. There should be NO wasted space. Everything should fit together like Lego. You all got my list of supplies?"
The rest of the team nodded.
"Make sure everything is in there. Those are MUST HAVES, soldiers. I can't stress that enough. GOT IT? Good. Now, for the next coupla of days I want you to take it easy. I mean EASIER. Cut the workout in half. I need you all to be bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. Dismissed."
They turned to leave.
"And Lady Jaye," Beachhead said.
She spun on her heels and glared at him.
"Try and eat something," he said, his voice softening slightly. "Your body's had a bit of a shock. You might not have an appetite, but you've got to force it down. Trust me."
She nodded and smiled faintly before following the rest of them out the door.
***