*Disclaimer: I own none of these fine characters. They all belong to Marvel, Image, Sunbow, Hasbro, Devil's Due, and if there are any others, I STILL don't own any of these guys! This is just a work of fun. I have no intention of making money off of this story. I'm just a penniless fan.

*This is a rough Gaelic-English Glossary for some phrases uttered in this chapter:

"LOSCADH IS DO ORT!" = Scorching and burning on you!

"Go hifreann leat!" = To hell with you!

"Ta tu glan as do mheahair." = You're crazy.

*As promised, the next chapter! Hope you all like it (^_^)

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The blades of the medevac Huey whirled, filling the night with wind and deafening thunder. The orderlies and nurses had safely transferred Snake-Eyes into the care of the medevac crew and were already jogging back to the peace and quiet of the hospital. Dr. Hill helped Hawk climb in as Low Light scanned the cleared circle one last time, rifle ready and in hand.

The knot of people in white suddenly fell over as a lithe figure in green shoved her way past them. "What the…Adams?" Her mouth moved, shouting maybe, but Low Light couldn't hear.

But he could see her raise her rifle.

Low Light didn't even stop to think.

He moved his body in front of Hawk's and fired.

The shot sent the rifle flying out of Adams' hands.

The medical staff scrambled for the door.

Low Light inwardly cursed himself for shooting to disarm. His sniper rifle was a manual; it'd take too long to reload. Already Adams was going for the two pistols strapped to her thighs. Flying in the face of his training, Low Light dropped his precious rifle and whipped out his single service pistol to bear.

He found himself staring at the muzzles of two .45's aimed crosswise at him.

Stand off.

"What's going on out there," Hawk shouted into Low Light's ear.

"I think I found our intruder, sir," Low Light told him, his voice almost lost in the wind.

Low Light's wrist com vibrated.

"Com on," the sniper said, activating it through his voice.

"Low Light, this is Adams---"

The distinctive loud click of a Colt General Officer's Pistol cut through the wind. Low Light felt a flash of gratitude at the extra firepower at his back. "Adams, or whoever you are, you're outnumbered," Low Light hissed. "Surrender. Now."

Silence.

Low Light felt someone loom closer behind him. "Nice and easy," the General rumbled. "Drop the guns."

More silence. Adams made no move to comply.

"Drop them," Hawk ordered harshly. "Do it, little girl. I won't hesitate to fire."

"Dammit," she spat. Very slowly, she let both pistols dangle by one finger each. She knelt, gently placed them on the ground, and backed away, raising her hands over her head.

"Face on the floor," Low Light told her. "Hands behind your head."

Low Light could practically feel her eyes burn the air between them. The hair on the back of his neck rose.

Something was wrong.

"Do. It," Hawk said through grit teeth.

Never taking her eyes off of Low Light, Adams got on the ground, complying with the orders.

"Hawk," Low Light began, "something feels off about---"

Dr. Hill lunged forward and stabbed the sniper in the neck with an injection.

For a split second, pain gave Low Light the strength to whip around to find Hawk pointing his Colt at LOW LIGHT, not at Adams.

He looked into the General's eyes…and the truth suddenly crashed down on him as the world turned black.

"Get him in here," 'Hawk' snapped at the doctor.

"You won't get away with this, you bastard," Adams' voice growled from Low Light's wrist com. "If you do so much as hover an inch off the pad you'll get blown out of the sky!"

"Whoa," the pilot said, lifting his hands from the controls.

'Hawk's' lips pulled back into a mocking smile. "This close to a hospital? I don't think so, sweetheart. Take off," 'Hawk' roared to the pilot.

"But---"

"She's bluffing! Take off," 'Hawk' ordered.

Adams' face twisted in agony as she reached a decision. She slapped her palms onto the ground and flipped forward, rolling head over heels. She grabbed her pistols in mid-roll and hit her feet shooting.

A swath of bullets struck the transmission ring at the base of one of the helicopter's blade mast to no effect.

"Armored," she spat like a curse.

The Huey began to rise.

She fired again.

A second stream of lead flew through the open door, over the ducking 'Hawk' and fake medical crew…

…and hit the pilot and co-pilot squarely in the back of their heads.

The helicopter fell back onto the helipad with a crash.

"YES!" She sprinted for her rifle.

"BITCH!" 'Hawk' dragged Low Light's limp body against his chest with his slinged arm, using the sniper as a human shield to protect his body and head. He brought the Colt up.

Adams' blue eyes narrowed as she ran. She took careful aim with both pistols.

They fired at the same time.

A bullet slammed into her Kevlar protected ribs, sending her flying off her feet. Her pistols went scattering across the helipad.

At the same time one of her bullets struck the Colt from 'Hawk's' hands. The pistol fell to the tarmac.

Her other bullet whizzed right between Low Light's legs and shattered 'Hawk's' exposed knee.

'Hawk's' screaming obscenities was music to the sharpshooter's ears. Adams wrapped an arm around her ribs and tried to crawl to her rifle, only a few feet away. She kept an eye on the helicopter as she closed the agonizingly short distance between her and her weapon. Already the dead flight crew was being dumped out of their seats and replaced by new pilots. The 'General' had been dragged away from the opening, as had the unconscious Joe sniper.

In their place was a woman in a medical flight suit.

A decidedly pissed off woman…with a bazooka in her hands.

If Adams had the wind to curse she would have. She tried to crawl faster.

The helicopter lifted again.

Adams grabbed the rifle.

She almost sobbed.

A small bullet hole had punctured the barrel, cracking it along the length of the metal cylinder. The rifle was useless.

She failed.

And looking down the barrel of the bazooka pointed right at her, Paige Adams knew she was going to die.

With a valiant last-ditch effort, Adams managed to switch her com to broadcast over the Joe's common airwave and gasped a warning. "…bazooka…"

"Hang on," a man's voice ordered over the com.

Like the calvary riding to the rescue, Hawk's huge Greenshirt guard crashed through the heliport doors. He gripped a large backpack on his arm like a shield.

Right behind him, brandishing javelins like a Gaelic warrior woman of old, ran Lady Jaye.

Over Adams' wrist com, 'Hawk's' voice cried out in alarm. "Zaranna, NO! We had a deal!"

Adams whipped her eyes back to the helicopter.

At the sight of Lady Jaye an unpleasant smile had spread across the woman's---Zaranna's--- features. "Sorry, Gen'ral," she said, her Down-Under accent thick with malice. "Your girlfriend's in the way." She re-sighted the bazooka right on Jaye.

"ALISON," 'Hawk' screamed in agony.

Zaranna fired.

With a yell, the Greenshirt man flung the backpack spinning through the air. He tackled Lady Jaye to the ground, shielding her as the backpack hit the shell. The explosion rocked the helicopter, throwing Zaranna back inside.

A discus of flame spun away from the explosion and slammed into the helicopter 's tail with the force of a rocket. The helicopter whirled crazily away from the hospital.

Alarms howled belatedly into the night. Searchlights snapped on all over the Airbase, cutting through the darkness to highlight the smoking craft.

Lady Jaye and Steve leapt to their feet running. "Wild Bill," Jaye shouted into her com. "Where the hell are you?"

"Don't you fret none, L'il Lady," the Texan drawled. "Be there in two shakes of a rattler's tail!"

"We need a medic up here," Steve yelled into his own com, practically skidding to Adams' side.

"I'm fine," the Greenshirt wheezed. "Go, GO!"

Steve didn't waste time arguing. He sprinted for the edge of the helipad behind Lady Jaye. "Blast it," he cursed. "Those idiots are still trying to fly higher. We have to force it down before they crash," he told her. He jerked two grenades from his belt. "How good's your aim with those sticks?"

"Try me," she said, hefting one javelin to her ear.

"You got it, Lady." Steve pulled the pins from both grenades with his teeth and hurled them. They arched high over the spinning blades of the rouge helicopter.

With a deadly accuracy that would have made Low Light proud, Lady Jaye's javelins flew from her hands and struck each grenade, detonating them before they touched the damaged helicopter.

The shock wave pushed the spinning Huey closer to the ground…but at the last second, the helicopter shakily righted itself up and climbed, heading for the tree edge.

"You've GOT to be kidding me," Steve growled.

"WILD BILL," Jaye snapped into her com.

"Stop yur hollerin'! I'm here!"

A new buzzing filled the air, like the droning of killer bees in full swarm.

Steve's eyes widened. "What the blazes---?"

An enormous insectoid looking green helicopter swooped past them, glittering in the search lights like a deadly modern stained glass art piece come to life.

"The Dragonfly," Jaye told him, a feral smile on her lips. "About time, cowboy," she laughed into her com.

"Don't shoot," Steve instructed to Bill through his own com. "They got some of our men! Force them down, nice and gentle!"

"Tend to yur own knittin', son," the pilot told Steve. "You just watch an old ranch hand and see how it's done." And with that the Dragonfly roared off, catching up with the medevac and paralleling its flight. Suddenly it pivoted and blocked the wounded Huey from going any further. The smoking craft tried to dodge the green Dragon but the Joe craft matched it move for move easily. Bit by bit, the Dragonfly began to bully the damaged medevac closer to the ground

"That pilot's going to need ground support," Steve said, frowning.

"There's BeachHead!" Jaye singled out the First Shirt in the lead jeep of a convoy tearing down the street. "Come on, Steve! There's no way I'm going to let that fake bluster his way past the Joes!"

"Agreed. Get on my back," Steve ordered, kneeling to let her climb on.

"Wha--?"

"Just get on my back and hold on tight!"

Jaye wrapped her arms around his thick neck. "Why am I doing this?"

"The stairs will take too long. There's a drain pipe here---"

"WHAT?!"

"HOLD ON," Steve yelled.

Before Jaye could protest he dropped from the edge of the roof.

"YOU'RE INSANE," she screamed, holding on for dear life.

He twisted in mid-air and easily caught the steel pipe between his gloved hands and boots. "Just repelling without lines," he yelled back. "Don't worry! I've done this for years!" He slid the rest of the four stories down as nimbly as any firefighter on a pole.

As soon as the ground was within safe jump range, Jaye released her hold on the Captain and gratefully landed. "You New Yorkers," she panted as the Captain dropped lightly next to her, "are INSANE!"

"Get the lead out, Lady," Steve snapped. "We've got a Huey to board!"

But as they sprinted across the hospital parking lot for the Landing Zone, the smoking Huey abruptly hovered, slowly swinging around so the main door faced the convoy.

"BeachHead," Jaye heard Jinx cry out over the com. "EVADE!"

"Aw, CRUD," Wild Bill spat.

The Ranger hauled his wheel sharply to the left, barking orders at the Joes in the convoy to MOVE their sorry butts. Jeeps and motorcycles peeled away as fast as they could or were simply abandoned. Armored vehicles emptied as their occupants ran for cover.

The Huey ignored the other Joes and kept tracking BeachHead, who zigzagged wildly for the cover of the trees.

Jaye and Steve looked on in horror as the Dragonfly dipped under the Huey, shielding the First Shirt with it's own hull.

The bazooka fired.

The shell exploded right against the Dragonfly's fuselage, sending it spinning to the ground in a shower of fire, shrapnel, and chunks of gouged black top.

The Huey slowly turned and drunkenly tried to climb above the tree line.

"Bill," Jaye whispered into her com. "WILD BILL?"

No response.

"BEACH HEAD? JINX?"

Still no response.

Her face twisted into a stormy rage. "LOSCADH IS DO ORT," she screamed at the Huey. She sprinted to the nearest fallen motorcycle, hauled it up and jumped on.

"Stick to English and move over," Steve said, vaulting on behind her. He barely had time to wrap his arms around her waist before she revved the engine and took off after the limping Huey.

"Wright-Patterson Medical, this is Captain Steven Wilson of the GI Joe team," Steve spoke into his wrist com. "We've got a bird downed on your doorstep. Pilot's not responding to hails, presumed seriously injured, possibly two others in a jeep. We need a fire truck and at least two ambulances."

"Gung-Ho," Jaye said loudly over the roar of the motorcycle. "We're pursuing the Huey but we're close to where the Dragonfly went down. Should we continue or veer to rescue?"

"I'LL tell you what you're going to do," a very welcomed Southern drawl said raspily over the com. "You're going to follow that son of a bitch until that wreck crashes. Then I want you to get our men back PLUS Little Miss Pink Hair, that turncoat doctor, AND that low life fake wearing the tin stars. GOT IT?"

"BeachHead," Jaye exclaimed, relief pouring over her voice.

"Don't get all gushy on me, woman, just follow my orders…like you weren't going after them anyways," he snorted.

"BeachHead, I've got Bill," Jinx's voice shouted. "Hold tight! We're coming back for you!"

"Yeah, like I'm going anywhere," Beach muttered. He grunted, as if trying to lift a heavy weight. "Gung-Ho, Roadblock, get over here. I've got a special job for you two. Spirit, gather a squad together and give Lady Jaye some support."

"You heard the man, Jaye," Steve said. "MOVE IT!"

"YES, SIR," she barked.

The Harley Davidson Motorcycle thundered into the moonlight-spangled forest, her headlight cutting a swath into the night. Jaye weaved around tree trunks, clenching her teeth when she hit the rocks or bounced from a ditch. Occasionally branches would fall around them as the helicopter skimmed the upper treetops, unable to get much higher. "Can you see them," she shouted back to Steve as she kept her eyes on the dark and treacherous terrain.

"Yes! Pick up the pace," Steve yelled. "They're heading for the river!"

"Alison, break it off," 'Hawk's' voice said over the com. "You're going to get hurt! I'll come back for you, I swear."

"Come for me and you'll pull back a bloody stump, imposter," Jaye snarled, pushing the Harley harder.

"You tell him, girl," Jinx applauded over the com.

"Alison," 'Hawk' began again.

"Go hifreann leat," she shot back.

"English," Steve reminded Jaye through gritting teeth. He looked up. "Blast it. Jaye, full throttle!"

"If I hit a tree at that speed---"

"I trust you!"

Muttering a prayer under her breath, she opened up the Harley as fast as it could go.

"When we hit the river, think you can get us airborne," he asked in her ear.

"You want to CATCH that thing in the air with a MOTORCYCLE," she exclaimed. "Have you done this for years too?"

"No. Just once," he said flatly.

"Why are your hands suddenly shaking," she asked sharply.

"Can you get us airborne," he demanded angrily, ignoring her question.

Her lips thinned into a hard, grim line. "Yes!"

They broke through the treeline, hitting the pebbly surface surrounding the riverbank.

Straight ahead was a slopping bluff with a short but steep drop into the white waters below.

"HANG ON," Jaye yelled.

She drove off the cliff at full speed, the incline giving them the extra push upwards to launch themselves at the helicopter flying directly overhead. They both jumped from the motorcycle at the apex of the Harley's arch, reaching for the runners---

Dr. Hill screamed as he was pushed out of the helicopter, crashing into both Steve and Jaye, knocking them away from the aircraft.

"ALISON," 'Hawk' screamed.

Time seemed to slow as the three tumbled through the trailing smoke. The doctor's limbs flailed wildly, setting him to spin crazily in the air. Steve had just enough time to grab Jaye as they both fell. "TUCK," he barked, putting all the command he could into that one word. Ever the solider, Jaye automatically obeyed. Just before they impacted with the river, Steve flung her back into the air, sending her spinning like an Olympian in a reverse dive.

Steve and the doctor plunged into the churning river below.

Immediately the undercurrents dragged Steve through the dark, boulder ridden waters. For a second, just a moment, he was caught in the grips of his worst nightmare, a memory sixty years old of Arctic waters filling his lungs as the closest thing he had to a son burned in the air above him. He could almost feel the ice freeze his blood again.

Suddenly a small but determined hand wrapped around his ankle, shattering the paralyzing memory, bringing him back to the present.

Lady Jaye.

He tucked his knees to his chest, dragging the Joe up to his embrace. He held her in one arm and used the other and his legs to guide them away from the huge rocks the river pounded against. He swam with the current, using it to break them through the surface. They were still moving fast and the crashing of the waters were getting louder. "Hang on tight," Steve ordered, spluttering.

This time Jaye didn't even ask. She just clung to him, wrapping her arms and legs tightly around him.

Steve grabbed his last remaining grenade from his belt. He pulled the pin and released the safety, counting.

At the last second he let go of the grenade.

The river exploded in front of them, the shockwave throwing them out of the waters. Steve held onto Jaye as he controlled their flight, twisting and tumbling in the air.

He landed, crouching, on the opposite bank.

"Lady Jaye?" He laid her onto the pebbly ground. "Say something! Anything!"

The moonlight shone against her pale skin, making her wide green eyes almost glow in the night. "Ta…tu glan…as do…mheabhair," she gasped.

He flopped onto his elbows next to her, a grin spreading across his face. "I'll let that one slide."

A deafening crash jolted their brief respite.

Their eyes looked up to see a huge column of smoke veiling the moon's face.

The Huey had finally crashed.

Steve felt the ice freeze his blood all over again. "Kid…" His face crumpled in pain briefly before he staggered to his feet. His expression hardened. He leaped up the bank and ran off into the forest.

"Captain! Dammit, wait for me, Steve," Jaye coughed. She scrabbled up the bank and ran after him.

It took them hours, but Steve and Jaye finally made it to the crash site. In the time it took the two to get there, their back-up had already arrived and were spread out around the area, searching.

They found Spirit directing the search. His long black hair was bound tightly into something resembling a samurai topknot in obedience to the General's mass punishment orders. He greeted them warmly. "It greatly lifts my heart to see you, sister," he told to Jaye. "We could not reach you over the com after you fell. We had feared you were lost to the river. Even as we speak Shipwreck searches for you."

"Good," Steve said. "Maybe he'll find the doctor."

"He already has," Spirit said, turning to Steve. "The doctor has met with his fate, my young---" He broke off. Spirit cocked his head at the Greenshirt Captain, his dark eyes narrowing.

Steve looked away from the probing gaze. "Is Hawk and Low Light…?"

The tracker shook his head. "Gone. All of them." He pointed to a staked off portion of flattened ground not too far away, surrounded by broken branches and crushed saplings, bushes, and plants. "There was another vehicle waiting for them here. One with VTOL capabilities. But our radar has picked up nothing."

"No," Steve said darkly. "It wouldn't." He nodded at Jaye's questioning look. "SHIELD hovercar. Had to be."

"Steve," Jaye hissed, surprised. "No one else is supposed to know---"

"What difference does it make now, Jaye," Steve asked bitterly. "The Dreadnoks have Hawk!"

Spirit arched his eyebrows. "And has SHIELD allied themselves with the Dreadnoks?"

"No," Steve said angrily. "SHIELD's just been stupid and let their guard down. Like me." He stormed to the helicopter wreck, gripping the doorframe tightly as he peered inside.

A young Greenshirt nervously cleared his throat. "Um, Spirit, sir? Remember what the Base Commander told BeachHead about Lady Jaye?"

Spirit's eyes flashed like obsidian spearheads. "The Base Commander knows not what he asks," he said scornfully.

"What did he say," Jaye questioned.

"It is ridiculous," Spirit said dismissively.

Jaye's face darkened. "Spirit," she growled warningly.

Spirit sighed. "The Base Commander heard everything over the common frequency." He looked at her apologetically. "He thinks you and the General---"

She held up a hand. "I get the picture," she grimaced.

"No, my sister, I think you do not," he sighed. "The Base Commander wants you placed under arrest. He thinks you played a part in our troubles."

Steve whirled around. "The first man that so much as TOUCHES her answers to me!"

"Steve, calm down," Jaye said, moving to his side.

He jerked away from her. "NO! We handled this Hawk's way and now he's gone!" He plunged his hands into the still smoking caved-in gash in the tail. With an extraordinary wrenching, Steve tore the steel wide open. He reached in and pulled out the soot covered concave disk that had saved him and Jaye from the first bazooka shell, wounding the Huey in the process. He gripped the blackened leather straps and wiped the surface of the metal with his sleeve.

The triple rings of red and white surrounding a single white star in a blue circle gleamed under the ash.

"Now," Captain America said, "we handle this my way."