Author's note: hope no one takes offense to my little mention of fanfic
websites - just having a little fun (at my expense mostly).
***
"General, sir," Mainframe said, waving Hawk over to the console.
"What is it, Mainframe?" The general said, walking over. He was anxious to put his feet up and relax after an intense day of discussing combat strategies. Any meetings with his second and third command were explosive. The only thing Duke and Flint agreed on was that the other man was wrong. It had left Hawk with a throbbing headache, growing stronger by the minute.
"I'm picking up some weird signals from a cargo plane heading to Australia," Mainframe said.
"What kind of signals?"
"The same frequency that COBRA uses. Nothing too concrete yet. I'm still trying to unscramble them, but how much do you want to bet the snakes are adding a late entry in the competition?"
The general sighed. "I'm not a gambling man, but I'd put money on this one." He turned to the soldier sitting at the other console. "Dialtone!"
"Yes sir!"
"Go get Flint and Duke."
Dialtone scurried off.
Hawk leaned in closer to the screen. "What type of cargo plane are they flying?"
Mainframe enhanced the satellite image and a clear picture appeared on the screen. "It looks like a mail courier."
"Probably the most heavily-armed mail courier plane in history," Hawk said.
"Duke here, general."
"Flint here."
Hawk turned to his second and third in command. "We have a problem."
They waited for him to continue.
"Looks like COBRA found out about the Ultimate Challenge," Hawk said.
"Bloody hell," Duke swore under his breath.
"I think it's best I go check it out," Flint said. "I'll go assemble a team."
"You?" Duke said. "I'm going."
Flint glared at Duke then turned to Hawk. "With all due respect to Duke, I believe my abilities are best suited for this type of mission."
"Yeah, and what special abilities are those, Flint?" Duke sneered.
"ENOUGH YOU TWO!" the general barked. "I've listened to you guys bicker like a bunch of old ladies all afternoon. I will NOT have my top officers butting heads every single time they're together. Goddamn it, men!"
They stood stone-faced, silent.
Hawk crossed his arms. "I understand you both have, shall we say a 'special' interest in the challenge? Two certain lady soldiers? Don't play stupid, boys. Just because I'm older, doesn't mean that I'm blind." He smirked, watching them squirm. "In this mission you two will learn to work together. As a team. It's about time."
Their mouths dropped.
"Together, sir?" Duke said weakly.
Flint took a step forward. "Sir, I don't-"
"STAND DOWN WARRANT OFFICER." Hawk glared at Flint and then at Duke. "Are you questioning my orders, men?"
"No sir!"
"Good, I didn't think so," Hawk smiled. "Now go assemble a team you mutually agree on. Flint, you know Duke is in charge so don't bust his balls." Duke could barely suppress a grin. The general looked at him. "And Duke-"
"Yes sir?"
"Don't be a prick."
"Yes sir."
"Permission to speak freely?" Flint asked, hesitating slightly.
"Proceed with caution, Flint," Hawk said.
"If Duke and I are off on a mission, and Beachhead's gone too, who's going to-"
"Lead the troops?" Hawk said. "I'm assuming, of course, you believe I'm fully capable, Warrant Officer."
"Of course, sir."
"Good," the general said. "I was thinking I might call upon our old friend, Sergeant Slaughter."
Dialtone mumbled something.
"What was that Dialtone?" Hawk said, raising an eyebrow. He turned to face the smaller man at the console.
"Nothing, sir."
"I ask again, 'What was that Dialtone?'"
Dialtone looked at Mainframe and swallowed loudly. Mainframe nodded for him to continue. "I called Sergeant Slaughter.. Umm. Sabretooth from X-Men, sir."
"Hmm. And what would a Sabretooth from X-Men, be?"
"Sir," Mainframe jumped in. "Dialtone's not in his right mind. He's been spending a lot of time at the fanfic websites and-"
"What's a 'fanfic,' son?"
"It's a place where people write in stories about their favorite characters, like, cartoons and heroes and stuff," Dialtone said excitedly.
Hawk paused, considering. "Do they have Roy Rogers?"
Dialtone and Mainframe looked confusedly at each other.
"Sir? What's a Roy Rogers?" Dialtone asked.
Flint and Duke started coughing, trying to suppress laughter.
"Never mind, boys, never mind," the general sighed. "It's just my old age showing through. This Sabretooth character - is he good or bad?"
"Bad, sir," Mainframe explained. "He's a half-man, half-tiger-"
Dialtone jumped up. "HEY, you're the one who referred to Sergeant Slaughter as Beachhead's evil twin!"
The room went silent.
Hawk frowned, studying the two men at the console. Then he looked at Duke and Flint, who were waiting for his reaction. His eyes went back to Dialtone and Mainframe.
Suddenly, the general roared with laughter.
"Beachhead's EVIL TWIN?" Hawk said, his eyes twinkling. "Jesus, that's GOOD!"
Dialtone breathed a sigh of relief.
"I'm glad you have such a good sense of humor, sir," Mainframe said smiling.
"Oh, I do, I do," Hawk said, still chuckling as he walked out of the room. "And I'm sure Sergeant Slaughter will find this equally funny when I tell him."
***
"WE ARE NOW CRUISING AT AN ALTITUDE OF 32,000 FEET. CURRENT TEMPERATURE IN AUSTRALIA IS 100 DEGREES FARENHEIT."
"Good thing I packed my thong," the Baroness commented, casually sipping her champagne. "I'm very particular about my tan lines."
Destro gave her a sly smile.
"PLEASE SIT BACK AND ENJOY THE INFLIGHT MOVIE, HOME ALONE 2."
"What?" Destro yelled.
"JUST KIDDING, SIR. ENJOY THE INFLIGHT MOVIE, HANNIBAL."
"We'll have to shoot the pilot upon landing," the Baroness said, stroking the pistol at her side.
"Agreed," Destro said. "There's no room for jokers on this mail courier plane."
"Gives new meaning to the term 'going postal,' doesn't it, darling?"
He chuckled softly.
"Now, tell me about your plans," she said, stretching her legs and putting her heels on the seat in front of her.
"Baroness, these seats are lambskin leather. You'll scuff them with your boots."
"Are you telling me what to do?" she asked, raking her heels down the seat, leaving long black marks.
"Certainly not," Destro sighed.
"That's better. Now, one last time, tell me about your plans."
"As you know, the Joes are competing in this pathetic Ultimate Challenge. From what I gathered from our 'intelligence' - and I use the term loosely - there are five competitors. That idiot Beachhead, his equally moronic teammates Roadblock and Gung-Ho, Scarlett the hot-head and Lady Jaye the -"
"The cousin," the Baroness finished for him.
"She's a distant cousin," Destro frowned. "As far as I'm concerned, she's been disinherited."
"Disinherited? Really? I thought YOU were disinherited from the bloodline."
Destro grabbed the Baroness' wrists angrily. "What have I told you about that?"
"Mind the diamond Cartier watch," she said, swinging her boot round and stopping an inch from his crotch. She lowered her foot slowly, resting it gently on her target. "I'd hate to damage the family jewels."
Destro swallowed and let go. "What I'm proposing is that we mess with the competition. Have a bit of fun."
"I like fun," the Baroness smiled, straddling him.
"Well, then, think of this like a holiday at a resort."
"Oh yes, darling," she said and whispered in his ear: "A virtual Club Med."
He reached round and undid the zipper of her catsuit. "Shall we join the Mile-High Club, my wild orchid?"
She nipped his lower lip. "I'm already a frequent flyer."
***
Beachhead scanned the competitors at the starting line, taking note of each team's strongest men. It appeared the G.I. Joe team was the only one with women. It didn't matter. These guys were big, but were they fast? Smart? The answer would be found at the finish line. Not all of them would make it - some would be seriously injured, others would collapse out of exhaustion and dehydration.
He turned to the rest of his team. Roadblock stood, his eyes staring straight ahead, eagerly waiting for the green light. Scarlett rubbed her legs, warming her muscles, also keeping an eye out for the green light. Lady Jaye met his stare.
"I'm good," she mouthed.
He nodded at her.
"COMPETITORS READY?"
They crouched, geared up for action.
The red light at the starting line flashed three times and then blinked to green.
The teams sprinted in various directions; each of them assigned a different route. All would face the same obstacles, but they were staggered so that overcrowding wasn't a factor. There was a time limit to accomplish each leg of the challenge - if a team went over the time limit they were penalized. Beachhead knew how much these penalties counted in the end. Challenges were lost over a matter of minutes.
"Go, go, go!" Beachhead shouted, egging his teammates on. They ran in sync, neither one lagging after years of his early morning drills.
Hours passed and they were still jogging, the pace slowing slightly under the hot Australian sun.
"Alright, stop here!" Beachhead ordered, glancing at his watch. He barely broke a sweat. "Drink up. Good job. We're making great time."
Scarlett and Lady Jaye bent over catching their breath. Roadblock held his sides, sucking in wind.
"Where's the first obstacle?" Scarlett said, unscrewing her canteen bottle and sipping the warm water.
"I don't know," Beachhead said truthfully. "All I know is that they come out of the blue. Without warning. Keep your eyes peeled, Joes." He shivered slightly, remembering the last challenge. White-hot flames flashed in his mind. Piercing screams, so twisted with pain they barely sounded human, echoed in his ears. Screams belonging to children. His hands balled into fists instinctively. Leave me in peace, he prayed. Let me compete like a soldier.
Lady Jaye coughed up some of her water.
"Problem, Jaye Bird?"
"No, Beach," she said, stifling another cough. "Nothing's wrong."
"You sure?"
"I said nothing's wrong."
"Okay, I believe you," Beachhead said. "What about you, Roadblock?"
"Peachy."
Lady Jaye turned away from the group and coughed into her hand silently. She tasted something metallic in her mouth and looked at her glove. There were specs of blood on it. Damn, she thought. She rubbed her hand discreetly along the ground, making sure no one was looking.
"Okay, Jaye?" Scarlett asked quietly, coming up from behind her.
She wiped her mouth and turned round. "Peachy," Lady Jaye smiled.
***
***
"General, sir," Mainframe said, waving Hawk over to the console.
"What is it, Mainframe?" The general said, walking over. He was anxious to put his feet up and relax after an intense day of discussing combat strategies. Any meetings with his second and third command were explosive. The only thing Duke and Flint agreed on was that the other man was wrong. It had left Hawk with a throbbing headache, growing stronger by the minute.
"I'm picking up some weird signals from a cargo plane heading to Australia," Mainframe said.
"What kind of signals?"
"The same frequency that COBRA uses. Nothing too concrete yet. I'm still trying to unscramble them, but how much do you want to bet the snakes are adding a late entry in the competition?"
The general sighed. "I'm not a gambling man, but I'd put money on this one." He turned to the soldier sitting at the other console. "Dialtone!"
"Yes sir!"
"Go get Flint and Duke."
Dialtone scurried off.
Hawk leaned in closer to the screen. "What type of cargo plane are they flying?"
Mainframe enhanced the satellite image and a clear picture appeared on the screen. "It looks like a mail courier."
"Probably the most heavily-armed mail courier plane in history," Hawk said.
"Duke here, general."
"Flint here."
Hawk turned to his second and third in command. "We have a problem."
They waited for him to continue.
"Looks like COBRA found out about the Ultimate Challenge," Hawk said.
"Bloody hell," Duke swore under his breath.
"I think it's best I go check it out," Flint said. "I'll go assemble a team."
"You?" Duke said. "I'm going."
Flint glared at Duke then turned to Hawk. "With all due respect to Duke, I believe my abilities are best suited for this type of mission."
"Yeah, and what special abilities are those, Flint?" Duke sneered.
"ENOUGH YOU TWO!" the general barked. "I've listened to you guys bicker like a bunch of old ladies all afternoon. I will NOT have my top officers butting heads every single time they're together. Goddamn it, men!"
They stood stone-faced, silent.
Hawk crossed his arms. "I understand you both have, shall we say a 'special' interest in the challenge? Two certain lady soldiers? Don't play stupid, boys. Just because I'm older, doesn't mean that I'm blind." He smirked, watching them squirm. "In this mission you two will learn to work together. As a team. It's about time."
Their mouths dropped.
"Together, sir?" Duke said weakly.
Flint took a step forward. "Sir, I don't-"
"STAND DOWN WARRANT OFFICER." Hawk glared at Flint and then at Duke. "Are you questioning my orders, men?"
"No sir!"
"Good, I didn't think so," Hawk smiled. "Now go assemble a team you mutually agree on. Flint, you know Duke is in charge so don't bust his balls." Duke could barely suppress a grin. The general looked at him. "And Duke-"
"Yes sir?"
"Don't be a prick."
"Yes sir."
"Permission to speak freely?" Flint asked, hesitating slightly.
"Proceed with caution, Flint," Hawk said.
"If Duke and I are off on a mission, and Beachhead's gone too, who's going to-"
"Lead the troops?" Hawk said. "I'm assuming, of course, you believe I'm fully capable, Warrant Officer."
"Of course, sir."
"Good," the general said. "I was thinking I might call upon our old friend, Sergeant Slaughter."
Dialtone mumbled something.
"What was that Dialtone?" Hawk said, raising an eyebrow. He turned to face the smaller man at the console.
"Nothing, sir."
"I ask again, 'What was that Dialtone?'"
Dialtone looked at Mainframe and swallowed loudly. Mainframe nodded for him to continue. "I called Sergeant Slaughter.. Umm. Sabretooth from X-Men, sir."
"Hmm. And what would a Sabretooth from X-Men, be?"
"Sir," Mainframe jumped in. "Dialtone's not in his right mind. He's been spending a lot of time at the fanfic websites and-"
"What's a 'fanfic,' son?"
"It's a place where people write in stories about their favorite characters, like, cartoons and heroes and stuff," Dialtone said excitedly.
Hawk paused, considering. "Do they have Roy Rogers?"
Dialtone and Mainframe looked confusedly at each other.
"Sir? What's a Roy Rogers?" Dialtone asked.
Flint and Duke started coughing, trying to suppress laughter.
"Never mind, boys, never mind," the general sighed. "It's just my old age showing through. This Sabretooth character - is he good or bad?"
"Bad, sir," Mainframe explained. "He's a half-man, half-tiger-"
Dialtone jumped up. "HEY, you're the one who referred to Sergeant Slaughter as Beachhead's evil twin!"
The room went silent.
Hawk frowned, studying the two men at the console. Then he looked at Duke and Flint, who were waiting for his reaction. His eyes went back to Dialtone and Mainframe.
Suddenly, the general roared with laughter.
"Beachhead's EVIL TWIN?" Hawk said, his eyes twinkling. "Jesus, that's GOOD!"
Dialtone breathed a sigh of relief.
"I'm glad you have such a good sense of humor, sir," Mainframe said smiling.
"Oh, I do, I do," Hawk said, still chuckling as he walked out of the room. "And I'm sure Sergeant Slaughter will find this equally funny when I tell him."
***
"WE ARE NOW CRUISING AT AN ALTITUDE OF 32,000 FEET. CURRENT TEMPERATURE IN AUSTRALIA IS 100 DEGREES FARENHEIT."
"Good thing I packed my thong," the Baroness commented, casually sipping her champagne. "I'm very particular about my tan lines."
Destro gave her a sly smile.
"PLEASE SIT BACK AND ENJOY THE INFLIGHT MOVIE, HOME ALONE 2."
"What?" Destro yelled.
"JUST KIDDING, SIR. ENJOY THE INFLIGHT MOVIE, HANNIBAL."
"We'll have to shoot the pilot upon landing," the Baroness said, stroking the pistol at her side.
"Agreed," Destro said. "There's no room for jokers on this mail courier plane."
"Gives new meaning to the term 'going postal,' doesn't it, darling?"
He chuckled softly.
"Now, tell me about your plans," she said, stretching her legs and putting her heels on the seat in front of her.
"Baroness, these seats are lambskin leather. You'll scuff them with your boots."
"Are you telling me what to do?" she asked, raking her heels down the seat, leaving long black marks.
"Certainly not," Destro sighed.
"That's better. Now, one last time, tell me about your plans."
"As you know, the Joes are competing in this pathetic Ultimate Challenge. From what I gathered from our 'intelligence' - and I use the term loosely - there are five competitors. That idiot Beachhead, his equally moronic teammates Roadblock and Gung-Ho, Scarlett the hot-head and Lady Jaye the -"
"The cousin," the Baroness finished for him.
"She's a distant cousin," Destro frowned. "As far as I'm concerned, she's been disinherited."
"Disinherited? Really? I thought YOU were disinherited from the bloodline."
Destro grabbed the Baroness' wrists angrily. "What have I told you about that?"
"Mind the diamond Cartier watch," she said, swinging her boot round and stopping an inch from his crotch. She lowered her foot slowly, resting it gently on her target. "I'd hate to damage the family jewels."
Destro swallowed and let go. "What I'm proposing is that we mess with the competition. Have a bit of fun."
"I like fun," the Baroness smiled, straddling him.
"Well, then, think of this like a holiday at a resort."
"Oh yes, darling," she said and whispered in his ear: "A virtual Club Med."
He reached round and undid the zipper of her catsuit. "Shall we join the Mile-High Club, my wild orchid?"
She nipped his lower lip. "I'm already a frequent flyer."
***
Beachhead scanned the competitors at the starting line, taking note of each team's strongest men. It appeared the G.I. Joe team was the only one with women. It didn't matter. These guys were big, but were they fast? Smart? The answer would be found at the finish line. Not all of them would make it - some would be seriously injured, others would collapse out of exhaustion and dehydration.
He turned to the rest of his team. Roadblock stood, his eyes staring straight ahead, eagerly waiting for the green light. Scarlett rubbed her legs, warming her muscles, also keeping an eye out for the green light. Lady Jaye met his stare.
"I'm good," she mouthed.
He nodded at her.
"COMPETITORS READY?"
They crouched, geared up for action.
The red light at the starting line flashed three times and then blinked to green.
The teams sprinted in various directions; each of them assigned a different route. All would face the same obstacles, but they were staggered so that overcrowding wasn't a factor. There was a time limit to accomplish each leg of the challenge - if a team went over the time limit they were penalized. Beachhead knew how much these penalties counted in the end. Challenges were lost over a matter of minutes.
"Go, go, go!" Beachhead shouted, egging his teammates on. They ran in sync, neither one lagging after years of his early morning drills.
Hours passed and they were still jogging, the pace slowing slightly under the hot Australian sun.
"Alright, stop here!" Beachhead ordered, glancing at his watch. He barely broke a sweat. "Drink up. Good job. We're making great time."
Scarlett and Lady Jaye bent over catching their breath. Roadblock held his sides, sucking in wind.
"Where's the first obstacle?" Scarlett said, unscrewing her canteen bottle and sipping the warm water.
"I don't know," Beachhead said truthfully. "All I know is that they come out of the blue. Without warning. Keep your eyes peeled, Joes." He shivered slightly, remembering the last challenge. White-hot flames flashed in his mind. Piercing screams, so twisted with pain they barely sounded human, echoed in his ears. Screams belonging to children. His hands balled into fists instinctively. Leave me in peace, he prayed. Let me compete like a soldier.
Lady Jaye coughed up some of her water.
"Problem, Jaye Bird?"
"No, Beach," she said, stifling another cough. "Nothing's wrong."
"You sure?"
"I said nothing's wrong."
"Okay, I believe you," Beachhead said. "What about you, Roadblock?"
"Peachy."
Lady Jaye turned away from the group and coughed into her hand silently. She tasted something metallic in her mouth and looked at her glove. There were specs of blood on it. Damn, she thought. She rubbed her hand discreetly along the ground, making sure no one was looking.
"Okay, Jaye?" Scarlett asked quietly, coming up from behind her.
She wiped her mouth and turned round. "Peachy," Lady Jaye smiled.
***