Newbie - Part 8
Disclaimer: Hasbro owns G.I. Joe. I don't. Please don't sue. I do own Cricket, however.
I've gotten a lot of feedback; thanks, everyone. If you see something I could be doing better, please, let me know. This is my first fic, and I want to keep doing better.
Wow... sorry about the extra-super-economy-sized long wait between chapters; the real world has been kicking my ass pretty hard recently. Thanks for your patience. This is actually a lot shorter than I wanted, but I'm trying to get back into the swing of things.
*****
"What in the name of God has taken so damned long?"
Shana grunted and decided not to let Mae's decidedly unfriendly demeanor spoil her enjoyment of the situation. She realized that it was very, very early, and Mae had probably only just woken up. The fact that Mae was bound to the wall, upside down, with at least four rolls of duct tape, was probably also contributing to her mood. Instead, as evenly as she could, Shana said, "Well, I'm sorry. I came as soon as I heard your frantic hysterical shrieking."
"Yes, but then you left again!"
Allie, who was standing on the other side of the room, explained, "Well, she had to come get me."
"Well, I didn't think you'd want to miss this." Shana remembered something. "Oh, wait. You were on duty late last night. Should I have let you sleep in?"
"No, you were right. I can catch a nap later."
Mae wriggled and flailed about. Or rather, Mae attempted to wriggle and flail about. Whoever had taped her to the wall had excellent training in such things. The most she was really able to do was wiggle her fingers and feet around. Even her forehead was held in place. The inability to fidget would, she knew, drive her mad in short order.
Allie looked her over. "Wow, Mae. Your face is so pink right now."
"I'm upside down! I'm stuck to the wall!"
"You know who I wish was here?" Allie asked.
"Courtney?" Shana ventured.
"She really does enjoy this sort of thing."
"She'll be so upset that she missed this."
"Lemme down!"
"We should at least take a picture."
"No you shouldn't! Let me down!"
"I don't think that'll be necessary. I'm sure Clutch already took one."
"What?!? Guys, seriously, c'mon! I'm on duty in, like, twenty minutes!"
"It occurs to me," opined Allie, "that she hasn't said the magic word yet."
Mae took a deep breath and tried very hard not to cry. "Please, you guys?"
"That's much better, but I was actually thinking of a different magic word."
"Allie, be nice."
"Here's a hint: it's in Farsi."
Mae turned her attention to Shana. "Shana, please, please, PLEASE, get me down from here before my head explodes."
Shana laughed. "All right, hang on. Courtney usually has a Bowie knife in her quarters. I'll be right back." As she turned and left, Allie sat on Mae's bed.
"So. Got ourselves a bit of a prankwar going on, do we?"
The blood had been rushing to Mae's head for about an hour by this point, and she could barely muster the brainpower to respond, "Kinda."
"Boy, are you in over your head."
If Mae could have moved at all, she would have shifted uncomfortably. "I'm not quitting yet. I can top this."
"No, you can't. And even if you can, you couldn't possibly top what comes after this. This is the motor pool you're messing with." Allie leaned forward, and Mae would have sworn that she actually saw shadows dart across her face forebodingly. "The MOTOR POOL. This is only the first step. I've seen it go all the way up to Step Eight."
Shana re-entered, big-ass knife in hand. "I found it," she said. She climbed on Mae's bed, found her balance, and started cutting through the tape carefully. "She's gotta stop moving her stuff around so much. Makes it impossible to borrow things without permission."
Allie stood on the bed as well, ready to help lower Mae down. "So, do you have any advice for our friend here?"
"About Clutch?" Shana asked. Turning to Mae, she said, "Stop. Stop now. He will grind you into sand before this is over. If you give up now, no one needs to cry."
"Hang on," said Allie. "We haven't started pulling duct tape off of her yet."
*****
"Beach!" Mutt came running up to the ranger, Junkyard close behind. "You done with Cricket yet?"
Beach Head, who at that moment was standing on Cricket's back as she struggled through her push-ups, sighed heavily. "God, I hope so. I got - did I tell you you could slow down?"
Cricket spit some mud out of her mouth. "No, sergeant." She resumed her earlier pace, praying for death as she did so.
"Duke needs her as soon as you're through," said Mutt.
"All right. Hey, Princess? Your shit packed yet?"
Cricket didn't break her rhythm. "No, sergeant."
Beach Head huffed. "Maybe tomorrow, then." He stepped down. "Your CO's looking for you. We'll do this again tomorrow. See if we can't get through it without you getting a note from your momma next time." He turned and left.
Cricket stood up, wiping mud from her face. "Duke say what it was about?"
Mutt shrugged. "No. Didn't sound pissed or anything, though."
Cricket crouched down and scratched Junkyard's ear, who didn't complain at all.
*****
Cricket touched her hand to her forehead. It was till sore as hell from where the duct tape had been ripped off, and she was fairly sure that it was still bright red. She'd racked her brain all day for something that would reduce Clutch to a quivering, broken shell of a man. The best she'd managed to come up with so far was tying his bootlaces together, and watching hilarity ensue.
Sometimes she was so lame she couldn't stand herself.
Duke let himself into his office. Without a word, he lowered himself into his chair and looked evenly at Cricket, trying not to laugh out loud at this tiny person covered in mud and tape burns.
"So. Cricket."
"Yes?"
"I understand we've had an interesting couple of days."
"I guess you could say that."
"Listen," Duke said, leaning in close, "I just have a couple of things I want to say. I'm not going to order you not to retaliate."
"You're not?"
No. But I will advise you not to. Two reasons. Maybe you can top being sealed to the bedroom wall. Maybe you can't. I honestly don't know. But I don't want to see this ending with one of you naked and hysterical in the mess hall at chow time. Clutch has very little in the way of shame and will probably die before he cries uncle. He has the resources of the motor pool at his disposal. You have, among others, Scarlett, whose idea of the greatest practial joke of all time involves sending a lot of pizzas to someone's house. And second, believe me when I say that you really, really, really don't want Hawk to end this for you. He's got a lot of Pentagon bullshit on his plate right now and he's really not going to be in the mood to deal with either of you."
"I understand."
"Do you?"
"Absolutely."
"You're going to ignore me, though, right?"
"Probably."
*****
Meanwhile, Clutch was beating the rush and going ahead with Step Two.
*****
Mae rubbed her eyes and looked at the clock. It was almost six p.m., and she had been running around for fourteen hours. It had been a long day, but not an altogether bad one; she had finally managed to toss Snake-Eyes in a manner that didn't completely disgust him, which she supposed was progress. Then she had her playdate with Beach Head, and while it was as horrible as it had ever been, she did manage to flip him off without his seeing, which at this point she claimed as a minor victory. She would have loved nothing more than to go to bed, but she had promised Doc that she would be by at seven to get Courtney ready to be discharged and to get her up to the apartment. She was killing some time going through her e-mail, and was pleasantly surprised to see a message from her brother.
From: mcdoog@livecom.net
To: macdougalmc@gij.delta.army.mil
Subject: re:new email addy
Hey you,
Sorry it took so long for me to get back to you; Liz and I were out of town for a couple of days. Thanks for sending along your new address; we haven't heard from you in a couple of weeks. Settling in okay?
Please don't feel bad about missing Dad's Mass. You've made it to the last ten; I'm sure he understands that you can't get away. We'll miss you, but we totally understand. Seriously, don't worry about it.
If you're sure she isn't going to be seeing her family while she's ill, then sure, you can bring Courtney by next time you get some time off. (And if you're sure she's who you say she is, I may need to buy you something big and shiny.) We have plenty of room. You may have to sleep in the bathtub, though.
Speaking of room, you may need to hurry back here if you want to keep yours. Liz is trying to get me to turn that shrine to Jack Kirby and Syd Barrett you call a bedroom into an office. I'm running out of reasons to say no, especially if you're going to keep re-upping. I've played the little sister card out, though. I can have some of your stuff shipped out to you if you want. Think about it.
Why do you keep bringing the damned web-cam site up? The way you go on about it, you'd think it was this huge thing your life. You had it for two weeks. It failed partly because you get bored so easily, and partly because no one in their right mind wanted to watch you pick your nose and play Zork till two in the morning. Life goes on. Deal.
Freak. :)
Let me know how things are going. I have another conference next week, but Liz would love to hear from you. Besides, Billy wants to know when Aunt Mae's going to finish building that rocket with him. He won't let anyone else touch it.
Take care of yourself, sis.
Love,
Jack
*****
Mae made a mental note to go to the chapel that Sunday. Despite Jack's assurances, she felt terrible that she was going to miss her father's Mass that year.
Now thouroughly depressed, she clicked on the next message from a "steinbergl@gij.delta.army.mil". She didn't recognize the name right away, but noticed that it had been sent to what appeared to be everyone on base and assumed that it was probably a memo of some sort. She was surprised when a window opened, uploading a video file. She went to grab something to drink while she waited for it to be ready.
Coming back to the computer screen, she saw that the video had already started. It was very low quality, looking to be captured from an old camcorder VHS tape. It was a recording in what looked like an elementary school auditorium. There were two young children, a boy and a girl, on the stage. The girl was dressed in a blue checkered dress, holding a stuffed dog, and the boy was wearing shorts with a button-down shirt. Turning the sound up, Mae heard the boy refer to the girl as "Dorothy", and she felt the bottom fall out of her stomach.
Oh, no.
No, no, no.
How in the world...
Another girl stepped out on stage. Dressed in a ridiculous green suit, she was considerably smaller than the other two, and had long, stringy brown hair. It was fairly obvious who this little girl was, made even more so by the caption "CRICKET: AGE 9", which someone had helpfully superimposed over the video.
As the 9-year-old Mae hollered, in her loudest, most strident big-girl voice, "I'm the mayor of Munchkin Land!" as Miss Carnahan had instructed her to nine years before, the eighteen-year-old version sat, mouth agape, completely dumbfounded, unsure whether to crumble immediately into ash, or to wreak terrible vengeance upon any who might have seen this.
This had been sent to the entire base...
*****
Allie opened her door, afraid that the pounding it was currently taking would take it off the hinges.
Mae stood there, face flushed, body trembling, about as angry as Allie had ever seen anybody. Allie, unfortunately, had already seen the video, and almost managed to suppress a laugh.
"Is 'L. Steinberg' Clutch?" Mae asked her.
"Maybe you should come in and sit dow-"
"IS. STEINBERG. CLUTCH?"
Allie sighed. "Yes. Before you-"
Mae was already down the stairs.
***
"You gonna be much longer?" Thunder asked. "Card game starts in twenty. Zooks just got some cash from home and I *know* he's got a walletful he's dyin' to give me tonight." He was looking at the Polaroid on Clutch's workbench that he swore was Cover Girl's ass.
"Start without me." Clutch rolled out from underneath the VAMP and looked in his toolbox for the wrench he needed, the lights from the motor pool reflecting off his newly-shaved head. "I got kind of a late start today and I promised I'd have this finished before I turned in. I'll probably cash in about 2000 hours."
"What were you up to?" He was still looking at the Polaroid. "You know, this is pretty fuzzy. I'm not sure this is even a person."
"Of course it's a person." Clutch rubbed his head and grinned. "Look, just check your e-mail later." He found what he was looking for, but didn't roll under the jeep right away. Instead, he looked up at Thunder and smiled. "Just something I needed to take care of."
Thunder asked, "Oh, is this about the newbie?"
"You better believe it. I'm not sure what her problem was, but she's gonna learn pretty damned quick that you don't start a prankwar with a Jersey boy unless you're ready to deal with the fallout. I just wish I could see the look-"
Later, when he was in Duke's office giving his account of what happened, Thunder would swear on his mother that he had seen Cricket actually flying through the air, speaking in tongues, as she set about her business of punching Clutch in the face, forcefully and repeatedly.
*****
Mae heard Duke come storming into the infirmary. "Where are they?" he demanded.
Edwin, the medic on duty, stammered, "Well, um, Clutch is in the b-back having his nose set, and Cricket's behind that c-curtain over there."
Mae had been taken to the infirmary after Roadblock pulled her off of Clutch; she had bruised her knuckles pretty badly. She felt awful; she had snapped, and had no idea why she reacted as badly as she had. She was upset about her father's Mass, but even so, she-
She was jolted out of her reverie by the sight of Duke glaring at her. "What the hell is wrong with you?" Mae stared at her feet.
"Look at me, Corporal."
It took a huge effort, but she allowed her eyes to meet his. The last time she had seen anyone that angry was when Jack had had to pick her up at the Broadway police station for pretty much this exact same thing. She felt just as badly now.
"Tell me what happened."
After swallowing hard, Mae mumbled, "I just had a difference of opinion with Clutch, Duke."
Duke looked at her for what seemed like a lifetime. Finally he said, "Don't go anywhere." He turned and left.
She could hear Duke talking in the next station. "You want to tell me what happened?"
Clutch replied, "Top, you're making a big deal out of nothing."
"Does this have anything to do with an e-mail everyone on the base received? Check that; everyone on the base except for Hawk, because I know you're not a complete blithering idiot. Despite rumors to the contrary."
"Duke, that was a joke."
"Where did you get it?" There was a pause. "If I so much as suspect that you might have even thought about breaking into Cricket's personnel files and then misrepesented yourself to the Boston Public School system in any way, shape or form, you're going to be digging latrines without a shovel for the rest of your natural life. Which will be very, very short. Do I make myself clear?"
Pause. "Crystal, Top."
"Good. That also goes for whoever helped you. I know you didn't do all that by yourself. Take tomorrow off. You're dismissed."
Duke returned to Mae's station. "Do you have anything you want to say to me?"
"I'm sorry, Duke. I know you're disappointed-"
"I'm not your father, Cricket. I'm your C.O. I'm not disappointed in you. I'm PISSED. You have absolutely no idea how lucky you are that I don't have you arrested on the spot for aggravated assault." His tone became slightly softer, but no less formal. "But I swear to God, the next time you step so much as a toe out of line you'll be drummed out of here before that toe even touches the ground. Do you understand me?"
"Yes, Duke."
"This thing with Clutch ends tonight."
"Yes, Duke."
Duke looked at her. She looked more like a kid than ever. G.I. Joe was a top-secret unit; Every potential recruit had a file on them thicker than the phone book. Additionaly, all communications, in and out, go through security channels. He knew full well that she was likely far more upset about missing the memorial Mass for the father she'd lost when she was seven years old than any asinine stunt Clutch had pulled. As such, he was willing to look at extenuating circumstances. It was going to take every ounce of strength he had to keep Hawk out of it, though.
"All right. Go get Cover Girl. Take care of her. You're taking tomorrow off, too. Cool down."
Mae nodded, her head hung low.
"And I mean it; if I see so much as a "Kick Me" sign on Clutch's back, you're looking at a court martial. You're dismissed."
Mae stood up, accidentally hoisting her self with her bandaged hand. She winced slightly. She looked at Duke. He was still very, very angry, but there was concern there, as well.
"Mary?" he said, softly. "You know... Doc is a chaplain. I mean, he could probably help you with... some things you might need help with. If you wanted."
Mae smiled at Duke sadly. "Thanks."
Disclaimer: Hasbro owns G.I. Joe. I don't. Please don't sue. I do own Cricket, however.
I've gotten a lot of feedback; thanks, everyone. If you see something I could be doing better, please, let me know. This is my first fic, and I want to keep doing better.
Wow... sorry about the extra-super-economy-sized long wait between chapters; the real world has been kicking my ass pretty hard recently. Thanks for your patience. This is actually a lot shorter than I wanted, but I'm trying to get back into the swing of things.
*****
"What in the name of God has taken so damned long?"
Shana grunted and decided not to let Mae's decidedly unfriendly demeanor spoil her enjoyment of the situation. She realized that it was very, very early, and Mae had probably only just woken up. The fact that Mae was bound to the wall, upside down, with at least four rolls of duct tape, was probably also contributing to her mood. Instead, as evenly as she could, Shana said, "Well, I'm sorry. I came as soon as I heard your frantic hysterical shrieking."
"Yes, but then you left again!"
Allie, who was standing on the other side of the room, explained, "Well, she had to come get me."
"Well, I didn't think you'd want to miss this." Shana remembered something. "Oh, wait. You were on duty late last night. Should I have let you sleep in?"
"No, you were right. I can catch a nap later."
Mae wriggled and flailed about. Or rather, Mae attempted to wriggle and flail about. Whoever had taped her to the wall had excellent training in such things. The most she was really able to do was wiggle her fingers and feet around. Even her forehead was held in place. The inability to fidget would, she knew, drive her mad in short order.
Allie looked her over. "Wow, Mae. Your face is so pink right now."
"I'm upside down! I'm stuck to the wall!"
"You know who I wish was here?" Allie asked.
"Courtney?" Shana ventured.
"She really does enjoy this sort of thing."
"She'll be so upset that she missed this."
"Lemme down!"
"We should at least take a picture."
"No you shouldn't! Let me down!"
"I don't think that'll be necessary. I'm sure Clutch already took one."
"What?!? Guys, seriously, c'mon! I'm on duty in, like, twenty minutes!"
"It occurs to me," opined Allie, "that she hasn't said the magic word yet."
Mae took a deep breath and tried very hard not to cry. "Please, you guys?"
"That's much better, but I was actually thinking of a different magic word."
"Allie, be nice."
"Here's a hint: it's in Farsi."
Mae turned her attention to Shana. "Shana, please, please, PLEASE, get me down from here before my head explodes."
Shana laughed. "All right, hang on. Courtney usually has a Bowie knife in her quarters. I'll be right back." As she turned and left, Allie sat on Mae's bed.
"So. Got ourselves a bit of a prankwar going on, do we?"
The blood had been rushing to Mae's head for about an hour by this point, and she could barely muster the brainpower to respond, "Kinda."
"Boy, are you in over your head."
If Mae could have moved at all, she would have shifted uncomfortably. "I'm not quitting yet. I can top this."
"No, you can't. And even if you can, you couldn't possibly top what comes after this. This is the motor pool you're messing with." Allie leaned forward, and Mae would have sworn that she actually saw shadows dart across her face forebodingly. "The MOTOR POOL. This is only the first step. I've seen it go all the way up to Step Eight."
Shana re-entered, big-ass knife in hand. "I found it," she said. She climbed on Mae's bed, found her balance, and started cutting through the tape carefully. "She's gotta stop moving her stuff around so much. Makes it impossible to borrow things without permission."
Allie stood on the bed as well, ready to help lower Mae down. "So, do you have any advice for our friend here?"
"About Clutch?" Shana asked. Turning to Mae, she said, "Stop. Stop now. He will grind you into sand before this is over. If you give up now, no one needs to cry."
"Hang on," said Allie. "We haven't started pulling duct tape off of her yet."
*****
"Beach!" Mutt came running up to the ranger, Junkyard close behind. "You done with Cricket yet?"
Beach Head, who at that moment was standing on Cricket's back as she struggled through her push-ups, sighed heavily. "God, I hope so. I got - did I tell you you could slow down?"
Cricket spit some mud out of her mouth. "No, sergeant." She resumed her earlier pace, praying for death as she did so.
"Duke needs her as soon as you're through," said Mutt.
"All right. Hey, Princess? Your shit packed yet?"
Cricket didn't break her rhythm. "No, sergeant."
Beach Head huffed. "Maybe tomorrow, then." He stepped down. "Your CO's looking for you. We'll do this again tomorrow. See if we can't get through it without you getting a note from your momma next time." He turned and left.
Cricket stood up, wiping mud from her face. "Duke say what it was about?"
Mutt shrugged. "No. Didn't sound pissed or anything, though."
Cricket crouched down and scratched Junkyard's ear, who didn't complain at all.
*****
Cricket touched her hand to her forehead. It was till sore as hell from where the duct tape had been ripped off, and she was fairly sure that it was still bright red. She'd racked her brain all day for something that would reduce Clutch to a quivering, broken shell of a man. The best she'd managed to come up with so far was tying his bootlaces together, and watching hilarity ensue.
Sometimes she was so lame she couldn't stand herself.
Duke let himself into his office. Without a word, he lowered himself into his chair and looked evenly at Cricket, trying not to laugh out loud at this tiny person covered in mud and tape burns.
"So. Cricket."
"Yes?"
"I understand we've had an interesting couple of days."
"I guess you could say that."
"Listen," Duke said, leaning in close, "I just have a couple of things I want to say. I'm not going to order you not to retaliate."
"You're not?"
No. But I will advise you not to. Two reasons. Maybe you can top being sealed to the bedroom wall. Maybe you can't. I honestly don't know. But I don't want to see this ending with one of you naked and hysterical in the mess hall at chow time. Clutch has very little in the way of shame and will probably die before he cries uncle. He has the resources of the motor pool at his disposal. You have, among others, Scarlett, whose idea of the greatest practial joke of all time involves sending a lot of pizzas to someone's house. And second, believe me when I say that you really, really, really don't want Hawk to end this for you. He's got a lot of Pentagon bullshit on his plate right now and he's really not going to be in the mood to deal with either of you."
"I understand."
"Do you?"
"Absolutely."
"You're going to ignore me, though, right?"
"Probably."
*****
Meanwhile, Clutch was beating the rush and going ahead with Step Two.
*****
Mae rubbed her eyes and looked at the clock. It was almost six p.m., and she had been running around for fourteen hours. It had been a long day, but not an altogether bad one; she had finally managed to toss Snake-Eyes in a manner that didn't completely disgust him, which she supposed was progress. Then she had her playdate with Beach Head, and while it was as horrible as it had ever been, she did manage to flip him off without his seeing, which at this point she claimed as a minor victory. She would have loved nothing more than to go to bed, but she had promised Doc that she would be by at seven to get Courtney ready to be discharged and to get her up to the apartment. She was killing some time going through her e-mail, and was pleasantly surprised to see a message from her brother.
From: mcdoog@livecom.net
To: macdougalmc@gij.delta.army.mil
Subject: re:new email addy
Hey you,
Sorry it took so long for me to get back to you; Liz and I were out of town for a couple of days. Thanks for sending along your new address; we haven't heard from you in a couple of weeks. Settling in okay?
Please don't feel bad about missing Dad's Mass. You've made it to the last ten; I'm sure he understands that you can't get away. We'll miss you, but we totally understand. Seriously, don't worry about it.
If you're sure she isn't going to be seeing her family while she's ill, then sure, you can bring Courtney by next time you get some time off. (And if you're sure she's who you say she is, I may need to buy you something big and shiny.) We have plenty of room. You may have to sleep in the bathtub, though.
Speaking of room, you may need to hurry back here if you want to keep yours. Liz is trying to get me to turn that shrine to Jack Kirby and Syd Barrett you call a bedroom into an office. I'm running out of reasons to say no, especially if you're going to keep re-upping. I've played the little sister card out, though. I can have some of your stuff shipped out to you if you want. Think about it.
Why do you keep bringing the damned web-cam site up? The way you go on about it, you'd think it was this huge thing your life. You had it for two weeks. It failed partly because you get bored so easily, and partly because no one in their right mind wanted to watch you pick your nose and play Zork till two in the morning. Life goes on. Deal.
Freak. :)
Let me know how things are going. I have another conference next week, but Liz would love to hear from you. Besides, Billy wants to know when Aunt Mae's going to finish building that rocket with him. He won't let anyone else touch it.
Take care of yourself, sis.
Love,
Jack
*****
Mae made a mental note to go to the chapel that Sunday. Despite Jack's assurances, she felt terrible that she was going to miss her father's Mass that year.
Now thouroughly depressed, she clicked on the next message from a "steinbergl@gij.delta.army.mil". She didn't recognize the name right away, but noticed that it had been sent to what appeared to be everyone on base and assumed that it was probably a memo of some sort. She was surprised when a window opened, uploading a video file. She went to grab something to drink while she waited for it to be ready.
Coming back to the computer screen, she saw that the video had already started. It was very low quality, looking to be captured from an old camcorder VHS tape. It was a recording in what looked like an elementary school auditorium. There were two young children, a boy and a girl, on the stage. The girl was dressed in a blue checkered dress, holding a stuffed dog, and the boy was wearing shorts with a button-down shirt. Turning the sound up, Mae heard the boy refer to the girl as "Dorothy", and she felt the bottom fall out of her stomach.
Oh, no.
No, no, no.
How in the world...
Another girl stepped out on stage. Dressed in a ridiculous green suit, she was considerably smaller than the other two, and had long, stringy brown hair. It was fairly obvious who this little girl was, made even more so by the caption "CRICKET: AGE 9", which someone had helpfully superimposed over the video.
As the 9-year-old Mae hollered, in her loudest, most strident big-girl voice, "I'm the mayor of Munchkin Land!" as Miss Carnahan had instructed her to nine years before, the eighteen-year-old version sat, mouth agape, completely dumbfounded, unsure whether to crumble immediately into ash, or to wreak terrible vengeance upon any who might have seen this.
This had been sent to the entire base...
*****
Allie opened her door, afraid that the pounding it was currently taking would take it off the hinges.
Mae stood there, face flushed, body trembling, about as angry as Allie had ever seen anybody. Allie, unfortunately, had already seen the video, and almost managed to suppress a laugh.
"Is 'L. Steinberg' Clutch?" Mae asked her.
"Maybe you should come in and sit dow-"
"IS. STEINBERG. CLUTCH?"
Allie sighed. "Yes. Before you-"
Mae was already down the stairs.
***
"You gonna be much longer?" Thunder asked. "Card game starts in twenty. Zooks just got some cash from home and I *know* he's got a walletful he's dyin' to give me tonight." He was looking at the Polaroid on Clutch's workbench that he swore was Cover Girl's ass.
"Start without me." Clutch rolled out from underneath the VAMP and looked in his toolbox for the wrench he needed, the lights from the motor pool reflecting off his newly-shaved head. "I got kind of a late start today and I promised I'd have this finished before I turned in. I'll probably cash in about 2000 hours."
"What were you up to?" He was still looking at the Polaroid. "You know, this is pretty fuzzy. I'm not sure this is even a person."
"Of course it's a person." Clutch rubbed his head and grinned. "Look, just check your e-mail later." He found what he was looking for, but didn't roll under the jeep right away. Instead, he looked up at Thunder and smiled. "Just something I needed to take care of."
Thunder asked, "Oh, is this about the newbie?"
"You better believe it. I'm not sure what her problem was, but she's gonna learn pretty damned quick that you don't start a prankwar with a Jersey boy unless you're ready to deal with the fallout. I just wish I could see the look-"
Later, when he was in Duke's office giving his account of what happened, Thunder would swear on his mother that he had seen Cricket actually flying through the air, speaking in tongues, as she set about her business of punching Clutch in the face, forcefully and repeatedly.
*****
Mae heard Duke come storming into the infirmary. "Where are they?" he demanded.
Edwin, the medic on duty, stammered, "Well, um, Clutch is in the b-back having his nose set, and Cricket's behind that c-curtain over there."
Mae had been taken to the infirmary after Roadblock pulled her off of Clutch; she had bruised her knuckles pretty badly. She felt awful; she had snapped, and had no idea why she reacted as badly as she had. She was upset about her father's Mass, but even so, she-
She was jolted out of her reverie by the sight of Duke glaring at her. "What the hell is wrong with you?" Mae stared at her feet.
"Look at me, Corporal."
It took a huge effort, but she allowed her eyes to meet his. The last time she had seen anyone that angry was when Jack had had to pick her up at the Broadway police station for pretty much this exact same thing. She felt just as badly now.
"Tell me what happened."
After swallowing hard, Mae mumbled, "I just had a difference of opinion with Clutch, Duke."
Duke looked at her for what seemed like a lifetime. Finally he said, "Don't go anywhere." He turned and left.
She could hear Duke talking in the next station. "You want to tell me what happened?"
Clutch replied, "Top, you're making a big deal out of nothing."
"Does this have anything to do with an e-mail everyone on the base received? Check that; everyone on the base except for Hawk, because I know you're not a complete blithering idiot. Despite rumors to the contrary."
"Duke, that was a joke."
"Where did you get it?" There was a pause. "If I so much as suspect that you might have even thought about breaking into Cricket's personnel files and then misrepesented yourself to the Boston Public School system in any way, shape or form, you're going to be digging latrines without a shovel for the rest of your natural life. Which will be very, very short. Do I make myself clear?"
Pause. "Crystal, Top."
"Good. That also goes for whoever helped you. I know you didn't do all that by yourself. Take tomorrow off. You're dismissed."
Duke returned to Mae's station. "Do you have anything you want to say to me?"
"I'm sorry, Duke. I know you're disappointed-"
"I'm not your father, Cricket. I'm your C.O. I'm not disappointed in you. I'm PISSED. You have absolutely no idea how lucky you are that I don't have you arrested on the spot for aggravated assault." His tone became slightly softer, but no less formal. "But I swear to God, the next time you step so much as a toe out of line you'll be drummed out of here before that toe even touches the ground. Do you understand me?"
"Yes, Duke."
"This thing with Clutch ends tonight."
"Yes, Duke."
Duke looked at her. She looked more like a kid than ever. G.I. Joe was a top-secret unit; Every potential recruit had a file on them thicker than the phone book. Additionaly, all communications, in and out, go through security channels. He knew full well that she was likely far more upset about missing the memorial Mass for the father she'd lost when she was seven years old than any asinine stunt Clutch had pulled. As such, he was willing to look at extenuating circumstances. It was going to take every ounce of strength he had to keep Hawk out of it, though.
"All right. Go get Cover Girl. Take care of her. You're taking tomorrow off, too. Cool down."
Mae nodded, her head hung low.
"And I mean it; if I see so much as a "Kick Me" sign on Clutch's back, you're looking at a court martial. You're dismissed."
Mae stood up, accidentally hoisting her self with her bandaged hand. She winced slightly. She looked at Duke. He was still very, very angry, but there was concern there, as well.
"Mary?" he said, softly. "You know... Doc is a chaplain. I mean, he could probably help you with... some things you might need help with. If you wanted."
Mae smiled at Duke sadly. "Thanks."