*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.
Chikuosu = A vulgar way to call someone "a beast" in Japanese.
* To whoever it was that nominated me for the Colton's Award, my thanks. I can't begin to say how flattered I am^_^
* To everyone…Sorry, sorry, sorry…trying to do the best that I can…
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Hawk hovered at the edge of the waking world. He could hear voices but couldn't seem to focus on them. He felt a hand run over his hair. Rough fingers dug into his scalp and yanked his head up. Oddly enough it didn't hurt.
Odder still, Hawk found he couldn't move. At all.
Alarm spread over him like ice, pushing him closer to consciousness.
"I must say, sister," a man's almost metallic voice purred, "I am astounded. I don't think I have ever received such a profitable gift before. Or a hotter item. Do the Joes know who took their precious General?"
"Of course," a woman's voice smirked. "What fun would it be if they didn't?"
The man's voice hardened. "That was unwise, sister."
"Oh, come off it, Zartan," she scoffed. "Not like we could keep up the game with Zandar's knee shot t'hell. It was a good run, but 'im and me knew it'd only be a matter of time 'fore 'em wankers in SHIELD caught on." Hawk felt a different hand stroke his cheek. "Besides, it just made the Gen'ral 'ere look that much worse."
A short moment of silence. "What HAVE you been up to, dear sister?"
The woman chuckled. "Seems the Gen'ral 'ere has a few skeletons in 'is closet. 'Em Juggler blokes were REAL pleased to hear that. Threw a whole lot of greens at us t'drag 'is shiny buttons right through the mud." She laughed again, cupping Hawk's chin. "We fixed it so the Tomahawk can't even show 'is mug anywhere near an American Military base without getting shot at."
"That is not reassuring, sister," the man hissed. "If that's the case then the Joes will want him back very, VERY badly."
"Oh, them Joes are going t'come after the Gen'ral alright…but not anytime soon. They gots other problems." Her voice became warm with pleasure. "Not only did we take down Flint, but Duke's out of the picture. Permanently."
A stunned silence. "Truly?"
"Don't believe me? Ask Zandar. 'E was right there when they pulled the plug on 'im."
"Do you mean to tell me," he asked incredulously, "that you and Zandar have just SMASHED the GI Joe's Chain of Command?"
"Good as," she said, oozing with satisfaction. "Just left 'em BeachHead and 'e ain't no match for the bloke the Jugglers are sending t'replace the Tomahawk 'ere. I figures 'e'll keep the Joes busy long enough for you to let Cobra Commander bid for this prize." Lips brushed Hawk's forehead. "The Commander's been itching t'get the good Gen'ral's feathers for years now. Should fetch you a right neat price."
The man chuckled. "Yes indeed, Zarana. I'll contact the Commander now. He'll be more than pleased by your news. And more than anxious to secure a certain new purchase. You've done well, sister." The hand holding Hawk's scalp released him. His head sagged into the woman's hand. "Learn from your aunt, daughter. She has much to teach you."
A long moment of silence.
"Well," the woman asked smugly. "Nothing t'say about your Auntie's coup?"
For the first time a teenaged girl's American voice spoke up, light, airy and full of sarcasm. "Oh, yeah, Auntie. Nice going. Too bad the desk jockey and his tin solider are still alive!"
"Oh, luv, don't be silly." Hawk felt the woman stroke his head. "Killing 'em would bring the Gen'ral's value down MUCH too low."
"Whatever. I say the best prisoners are dead ones."
"Really?" The woman's voice took on a sugary tone. "Remember, me DEAREST niece. You're just a babe in arms when it comes t'this game. You might be the darling of the gang now, but until you learn the family's REAL business…" she sighed dramatically. "…I'm afraid you'll be nothing more than the Dreadnok's mascot, ducky."
"HA! You think showing up with this old man's going to make Dad boot me out and put you back in his number two slot?"
"Careful, Zanya. Sounds t'Auntie like you're worried."
"I'm not worried. It's not like I'M the one who got Uncle Zandar's knee all messed up!"
The woman chuckled. "Mindbender'll have 'im up and around in no time. Your Uncle knows its part of the game. And it's all worth it as long as we gets our money," she said throatily, fastening her lips on Hawk's.
"Ew," the girl said. "Look, you can make out with the old geezer all you want but I don't gotta watch. I am so out of here."
"Children are so predictable," the woman laughed. "'Ello, what's this? A frown? Well, can't have you waking up just yet, Gen'ral."
Something pricked Hawk's arm.
"Sleep, now, luv," she cooed. "And don't you worry none about your man Low Light. I've gots lots of new friends for 'im t'play with."
At her words Hawk battered against the renewed lethargy pulling at his mind. He shuddered once, fighting desperately to open his eyes.
It was a losing battle…
For the second time in two days, Fort Wright-Patterson was on full red alert.
During the two hours it took Steve and Lady Jaye to rendezvous with Spirit, BeachHead didn't give any Joe a moment to think. Even while he was still pinned under his jeep, surrounded by the burning wreckage of the Dragonfly, he had barked orders into his wrist com non-stop. He ordered Mainframe to track Hawk and Low Light through their wrist coms, and sent Spirit out with a squad to give Jaye and her Greenshirt support. By the time fire trucks and ambulances came, a squad of Joes had the fires contained, and Gung-Ho and Roadblock were lifting the jeep off of the Top. Jinx and Wild Bill were nearby being treated by Joe medics for burns and, in Bill's case, a broken leg.
Instead of blowing off medical assistance like he normally would, BeachHead practically jumped into the ambulance with Jinx only a startled beat behind him. He bellowed for the EMTs to hurry up and get Bill inside, ordered Roadblock to direct the clean up, and told Gung-Ho to stop tugging his mustache, get a squad, and to go after those people that had an excuse to slip past the Joe drag net earlier that night.
During the short drive back to the Medical Center BeachHead ordered Scarlet to round-up a squad and search the Hospital from top to bottom, yes AGAIN, for anything suspicious, this time paying VERY close attention to any room that was connected with Dr. Hill. The doctor's treachery was fresh in everyone's mind, as well as questions about Hawk---
BeachHead wouldn't let the team dwell on questions.
When Mainframe reported that Lady Jaye's and the Greenshirt Captain's wrist coms had stopped tracking over the river BeachHead ordered Shipwreck to take his squids and hit the river. A short time later, Mainframe added that Hawk's and Low Light's wrist coms had stopped tracking too. BeachHead threw every sky-jockey on the team cleared for night flying into every available aircraft they had in a search and containment pattern.
By the time the doctors were taking X-rays of BeachHead's chest, Sprit had reported in. He had found Hawk's and Low Light's wrist coms, smashed, and had discovered that Zarana switched aircrafts. None of the Joe pilots had seen the aircraft leave the area.
Hawk and Low Light could have been taken anywhere…
BeachHead loudly clung to the one clue they had.
Zarana.
Zartan's sister had been positively ID'ed on that Huey. She ran the Dreadnok's Chicago chapter, which was only hours away by air. It didn't take too big a stretch of the imagination to guess where she took Hawk and Low Light. BeachHead called the pilots back in and told Stalker to pick out a strike team and to prep them in the WarRoom for a rescue mission.
As the doctors declared BeachHead's sternum full of hairline fractures, Scarlet gave him his first good news of the evening.
She had found the real Snake-Eyes.
It was a dubious blessing. With remarkable poise and professionalism, the Field Commander reported that the ninja was found comatose, disguised and stuffed into a body suit in a room assigned to on of Dr. Hill's patients, right next door to 'Duke's' old hospital room. Snake-Eyes had been given no anti-toxins to counteract the nerve gas until after he had been found. The doctors weren't optimistic about his chances for a complete recovery.
"Tell them doctors to keep me posted," BeachHead told Scarlet gruffly. "You still got three floors to search and we ain't got all night." He cut the com and returned his attention to the Joe on the other side of his privacy curtain. "Adams! You still there?"
"Yes, Sargent," the sharpshooter said quietly.
"I can't hear you!"
"YES, SARGENT!"
"Better. How's the ribs," he ask brusquely.
"Fine, Sargent!"
"She has three broken ribs, Sargent," one doctor told him. "We're tapping them up now. She'll be fit for light duties---"
"I ain't sure she's fit for any duties," BeachHead interrupted harshly. Jinx nudged his shoulder. He glared at her and ignored the hint. "So which is it Adams, did you abandon your post at the ICU ward, yes or no?"
"No, Sargent," she barked.
"So you were properly relieved?"
A beat of hesitation. "No, Sargent, I was ordered to the roof by two superiors," she barked in one fast breath, hoping to get an excuse out before he could interrupt.
"You recognized the authority of a brand spanking new Greenshirt?"
"He was a Captain and Lady Jaye backed him and I recognized her authority, Sargent!"
"And they ordered you to keep that Huey grounded, Adams?"
"Yes, Sargent!"
"So why didn't you," he asked intently.
There was another pause. "I-I told you, Sargent," she said, keeping her voice strong despite a slight tremor. "The Huey was armored. I shot the first pilots, but they had back-ups---"
"All you doctors, out," BeachHead suddenly roared. "ALL of you, OUT! GET!" He waited until he was sure the last of the grumbling physicians had left. He motioned for Jinx to check. She stuck her head out of the curtains, looked around, and nodded back to him. "Adams," he growled. "Why didn't you at least kill that damned imposter?"
"The imposter was using Low Light as a human shield, Sargent, I couldn't---"
"That's a load of bull, girl, and you know it," BeachHead cut in sharply. "You're supposed to be a damned good shot. You could have followed Low Light's example from yesterday and shot through him, kill the imposter and maybe save Low Light too. WHY DIDN'T YOU?"
"I---I'm not as good as Low Light is," she managed to choke past her dwindling pride. "I just didn't think---"
"Damned right you didn't think!"
"Sir---"
"Don't 'sir' me," he snapped. "I might be in charge of y'all now but I ain't no 'SIR!' Do I sound like a butterbar officer whining about how I 'just didn't think?' No, ma'am, LEUITENANT, Ma'am," he mocked, "I work for a living!"
Fire rose up in Adams' voice at that none too subtle slam. "Now just a minute---"
"A minute? Sure," he drawled, his voice suddenly as lazy as a summertime hammock. "I got lots of minutes. BUT HAWK AND LOW LIGHT DON'T!"
Silence.
"Report to Stalker," BeachHead commanded. "Tell him everything you saw, everything you heard on that roof. Intel's scarce, and God help us, you're the only real eyewitness we have." His lip curled back. "Seems to be the only real use you've got."
"Sargent---"
"Get out," he ordered curtly.
Jinx scowled at him.
There was a rustling on the other side of the curtain. The sound of dejected steps quickly left the emergency room.
"A little hard on her, weren't you," Jinx asked sharply.
"No." He struggled into his shirt. "She's damned cocky, that girl. The only way to sink anything into that thick skull of hers is through a bruised ego. Now she knows she could have done more." He tucked his shirt in.
Jinx scowled. "Hawk or Duke…" Her voice faltered. She took a deep breath. "Hawk or Flint would have---"
"THEY AIN'T HERE," BeachHead bellowed. He turned away from her and grabbed his Kevlar vest. "I am."
Jinx crossed her arms, her dark eyes veiled. "I never did congratulate you on the promotion, did I," she asked quietly.
BeachHead stiffened. He turned his face slightly to her. Weariness and pain pulled sorrow to the surface of his face. "You really think I wanted things this way," he asked her softly.
Suddenly ashamed, Jinx found herself speechless.
His face hardened. "If you think I'm that kind of man, go right ahead and think that then," he rasped, fastening his vest. "Don't make no never mind to me."
Jinx dropped her gaze. "BeachHead---"
"I ain't a golden boy, I ain't a poet---" BeachHead winced as his vest dug into his sternum painfully. "---and I sure ain't here to win any popularity contests," he snapped, fumbling with the fastenings. "I just do my job. Don't make no never mind what y'all think of me."
Before Jinx could say anything else BeachHead's com beeped. "BeachHead here."
"It's Mainframe, Top. We've got problems."
BeachHead's lips twisted. "Great. What now?"
"I just got a call from the Base Commander. He just sent one of his MP's to escort our…our new CO to Hawk's office," Mainframe said miserably.
"Damn, that was fast," BeachHead muttered.
"He wants to meet you in 'his' office to get the paper work squared away, right now. BeachHead…" Mainframe hesitated.
"Spit it out, computer boy," the Top growled.
"The MP's got an arrest warrant for Hawk."
"Dammit, that was TOO fast," BeachHead said with a scowl. "Something like that should have taken half the night to get!"
"Unless they had it prepped and waiting," Jinx observed suspiciously. "Mainframe, can you dispute that warrant and prove that Hawk was set up?"
"With what? The only guy who COULD dispute it by vouching for Hawk's whereabouts all night is gone too."
"What about Snake-Eyes," Jinx asked.
"Finding Snakes proves that someone got smuggled out of the hospital, but that's it," Mainframe said. "We don't have any concrete proof as to WHO got smuggled out. That imposter's dead body would have proved a set up---"
"But we don't got it so think of something else," BeachHead snapped. "How about the prints from Hawk's sidearm? Adams recovered it from the roof. Said the imposter shot her with it."
"No," the computer expert sighed. "Only Hawk's prints were on it."
BeachHead's scowl deepened. "A voice analysis from that recording found in 'Duke's' room?"
"It was a 51% match up with Hawk's voice, barely enough to JUSTIFY a warrant," Mainframe growled in frustration. "We don't have a single thing that can dispute that warrant, Top, just support it. DAMMIT ALL---!"
"Lock it down, Mainframe," BeachHead ordered. "Getting pissed at no one ain't gonna do a bit of good."
"Yeah, you're right," Mainframe sighed. "Sorry."
"What are you going to do, Beach," Jinx asked.
BeachHead closed his eyes for a second and sighed. He opened eyes full of resignation and picked up his mask. "We're soldiers," BeachHead said, tugging on his mask. "Our job is to follow orders…even if we don't like 'em. Spread the word, Mainframe. Might as well let the team know about the Change of Command while they're too tired to riot. Who know," he said wryly, looking at Jinx. "Might even suit 'em just fine. BeachHead out." He nodded to her. "C'mon. Let's get this over with."
Jinx stopped him with a touch on his shoulder. "Beach."
"What?"
"I'm sorry," she said softly.
His shoulder twitched under her palm. "Like I said, it don't make no never mind." He took a step…and hesitated. "But thanks," he said gruffly.
They walked silently through the halls of the underground levels until they reached Hawk's office. The door opened at BeachHead's touch and he took one stride…then stopped dead in the thresh hold.
Shifting in Hawk's uncomfortable black leather chair and rifling through Hawk's desk was a heavy set older man in painfully crisp dress greens. A single star adorned each shoulder. Unaware of the two Joes in the doorway, he plucked the small black velvet box holding Hawk's West Point ring from a drawer. He cracked open the box, clearly intending to put the ring on one of the plump, soft fingers that had obviously never seen real combat.
BeachHead scowled and cleared his throat. LOUDLY.
The fat man snatched his fingers away from the diamond topped gold ring and shut the box with a snap. "Major, who are these people," he demanded.
Stripping the walls of the many photographs of the GI Joe team, past and present, and tossing them into a cardboard box was Major Kenner. The MP looked up and brightened at the sight of the First Shirt. "Ah! Sargent! Come in! General, I have the pleasure of introducing to you Sargent Major Wayne Sneeden of GI Joe. Sargent, this is Brigadier General Alexander Maddox, former Assistant Base Commander of Fort Killington."
BeachHead snapped to attention and smartly saluted. "Sir."
The General waved a casual salute back with the ring box. "Sargent."
With parade smart precision, BeachHead lowered his arm and marched in, falling into an at-ease position in front of the desk.
Major Kenner smiled. "Due to a series of misfortunes, Sargent Sneeden here has found himself burdened with command of GI Joe."
"No burden, Major," BeachHead said crisply. "In fact---"
"In fact," Kenner broke in smoothly, "you are no doubt relieved to be receiving these Transfer of Command Orders. I know." He took a sheaf of papers from Maddox's chubby hands and passed them to BeachHead. "Oh. And here's the warrant for Abernathy's arrest," he added, handing BeachHead the damning paper. "I'm sure you'll find everything in order."
BeachHead resignedly took the papers. "I---"
Suddenly General Maddox slammed the ring box onto the desk. "What the hell is SHE doing here?"
Everyone turned.
Jinx was leaning against the wall nearest to the door with her arms crossed. She looked back at them with flat eyes.
"That's Sargent Arashikage, code named Jinx," BeachHead said, barely sparing her a glance from reading his orders. "General Tomahawk assigned her as my bodyguard."
"I don't care," the General said, heaving his bulk out of the uncomfortable black leather chair. He stomped past the concentrating BeachHead and shook the ring box in Jinx's face. "Young lady, you're a solider! When you're given transfer orders you're to obey them immediately!"
Jinx's almond shaped brown eyes contorted in puzzlement. "I know, General Maddox," she said.
"Then why are you still here?"
She shrugged fluidly. "Because I never got any such orders."
Maddox's face reddened. "Are you trying to put one over on me, young lady?"
"No, General Maddox, I'm not," she said coolly. "Yes, I've heard rumors saying all the women in Joe were being transferred, but I've never actually received any orders myself."
"No orders? Absolutely none," Kenner demanded.
"No, Major," Jinx said. "Nothing in writing."
BeachHead only paid half an ear's attention to the others as they argued but he kept his eyes glued to the papers.
The muscles around his eye suddenly twitched.
He tuned out the ruckus as he re-read the orders.
Maddox and Kenner exchanged a look that was heavy with silent communication. "Well," Maddox said finally with an insincere smile plastered over his face, casually tucking the ring box into his coat pocket. "That's unfortunate, my dear. But don't worry, we'll get that cleared up in the morning. Right now, I'm sure you must be tired. You're relieved of duty---"
"With all due respect, General Maddox," she said in a clipped voice, "my orders are to never leave BeachHead's side."
Major Kenner frowned. "Those were orders from a traitor," he reminded her.
"Orders from my General," she barked.
Maddox reddened again. "Sargent Arashiga---Arasheep---"
"My name is Jinx," she snapped.
BeachHead sighed heavily. That drew the attention of the two officers off of Jinx and onto himself. Maddox dropped his anger and looked at BeachHead smugly. "Have you finished reading the Transfer to your satisfaction, Sargent Sneeden?"
BeachHead was a solider. His duty was clear. He took a deep breath and straightened his shoulders. "I have, sir," he said out loud.
Jinx lowered her lashes, trying to hide the misery in her eyes.
BeachHead calmly tossed the papers onto the desk. "I can't accept these orders."
Jinx whipped her head up, brown eyes wide in amazement. "You can't?"
"No," he hissed at her across the room. "I can't."
Maddox's face flushed with anger. "What do you MEAN you can't accept these orders," he growled. "These come straight from the Pentagon---"
BeachHead held his ground. "Don't matter. GI Joe is a Joint Military Unit," BeachHead explained evenly. "The Pentagon can order us on missions, but the position of Commanding Officer is given by Presidential appointment only. Or through the already established hierarchy. Meaning me. Sir."
"Sargent Sneeden," Kenner said darkly. "I strongly suggest you reconsider your position."
"Do you have ANY idea what I can do to your career," Maddox asked him thunderously.
Even under his mask, BeachHead couldn't hide his wince. Jinx slid next to him, silently giving him her support. BeachHead lifted his chin. "It don't matter none," BeachHead told the officers evenly. "I'm just following regs."
"I heard that you were ambitious, Sargent," Kenner hissed from behind the General. "But I didn't know you were stupid too. Do you REALLY think you can hold onto this team's CO slot against General Maddox? Against the Pentagon's own appointment?"
The Top was saved from answering by his beeping wrist com. "BeachHead here."
"Sargent, its Rollins. Spirit and his squad's here. He found Lady Jaye and-and---MAN!"
"And what? Spit it out," BeachHead snapped.
"Captain America's with them!"
The General and Major turned milk pale.
BeachHead arched an eyebrow. Interesting. "Are you sure it's really him?"
"Yes, sir---ah---I mean, yes, Sargent! Avengers ID card checks out and has been reconfirmed with their HQ in New York."
"What does he want," BeachHead asked.
"He won't say. Just that he needs to see you."
Shadowed by a vigilant Jinx, BeachHead slowly made his way around the desk. Very deliberately, he sat in Hawk's black chair. "Send him in."
"NO!" Maddox tried to grab the Sargent. BeachHead pushed the chair back, effortlessly wheeling out of the older man's range. "Deny him access! That's an order," Maddox shouted desperately.
"General, stay calm," Kenner growled. "Sargent, this isn't any of the Captain's business. Until we settle this, he's not allowed inside."
"Well, sirs, this is technically MY office for the time being, not yours," BeachHead told them. "I'm not under your authority---"
"I'm with the Military Police," Kenner barked. "Members of you unit are under investigation, meaning you ARE subject to my authority---"
"To an extent, Major," BeachHead interrupted, scowling. "And you just exceeded your authority. Rollins, let the Captain---"
Maddox drew his Colt. "NO!"
Kenner cursed and drew his pistol as BeachHead dove from the chair. The Joe's chest exploded with pain, slowing his grab for his Beretta.
A shadow moved in front of the Ranger lightning fast.
There was a flash of metal and the high ringing sound of steel striking steel. A black steel chunk arched through the air and hit the wall as Kenner let out a strangled cry and dropped his gun, vainly trying to stem the flow of red spurting from the slender spike in his hand. He stumbled into a chair and collapsed into it, eyes wide.
The pale Brigadier found himself holding a Colt minus it's barrel…but his eyes were fixed on the two-foot sword that Jinx held at his throat.
The door slid open and the two corridor guards flew in. "FREEZE!"
"A little late," BeachHead gasped as he got to his feet. "Looks like I gotta remedy that with y'all tomorrow during that extra PT you just earned!"
Both Greenshirts winced.
Maddox clutched at his chest.
"…medic…" Kenner whimpered.
"In a minute," BeachHead told the MP.
"What happened here," a dangerously soft voice from the door asked.
Everyone whipped their heads around.
Standing in the doorway, flanked by Spirit and Lady Jaye, was a huge and muddy Greenshirt with wind blown blonde hair as rumpled as his uniform. His top flapped open, revealing blue chainmail patterned with vertical red and white stripes wrapped around his abdomen. A white star shone against his chest.
Strapped to his right arm gleamed a distinctive shield painted with the nation's colors.
There was no mistaking this man's identity.
Maddox began to hyperventilate.
"GI JOE," BeachHead barked. "Atten-HUT!"
With the exception of the watchful Jinx, all of the Joes in the room snapped to attention and fired off their best salutes.
"Captain America," BeachHead said in his best parade voice. "GI Joe is honored to have you here, SIR!"
The Captain solemnly returned the salute. "I'm the one honored, Sargent. Please. At ease. Now tell me, what happened?"
Maddox fell to the floor unconscious.
"MEDIC," Kenner roared.
Jinx sheathed her sword. BeachHead glanced down. "Seems General Maddox's having a heart attack," he said mildly. "Rollins, get the medics. Spirit, take care of General Maddox. Beuke, try to see that the Major doesn't go into too much shock." He sat back in Hawk's uncomfortable desk chair. "Lady Jaye, tell the hospital---"
"My com's busted," she told him, glaring at the tarnished officers with pure hate.
"---Jinx, tell the hospital to prepare a room in the prison wing. Let the Base Commander know his visiting General and pet MP pulled their sidearms on me---"
"It was self-defense," the Major protested loudly. "This is a conspiracy! Sneeden pulled his Beretta first! And YOU!" He pointed at Jaye. He stood and shoved the attending Greenshirt aside. "Woman, you've got some explaining---"
The Captain stepped in front of Kenner, blocking him. "You're not fit to touch her," he said softly.
The Major's lips pulled back into a sneer, looking at Jaye rather than meeting the blue eyes snapping fire at him. "Abernathy wasn't enough of a conquest, eh?"
With unbelievable speed Steve's left fist struck the Major across the jaw. The man flew back, hitting the nearest wall. Framed photos of the Joe team rained down on the man. Kenner scrambled for his fallen pistol. The Captain's boot slammed into the man's chest, sending him flying back into the wall. More photos fell.
In the stunned silence Captain America approached the fallen MP and crouched next to him. "I heard about Snake-Eyes," Steve said softly. "He was found in the room YOU personally checked." Steve's blue eyes pinned the cowering man with barely contained rage. "Care to explain that? MAJOR?"
"YOU'RE the one who hurt our teammates? My CLANSMEN," Jinx hissed. Her hands flashed out. "Chikuosu!"
Steve's hands clamped down on two slim spikes quivering a hair's breath away from the MP's family's jewels.
Kenner's eyes went wide and wider still when another spike appeared in Jinx's hand.
Steve dropped the spikes he held and moved protectively in front of the Major. "We need him alive for questioning," he berated her.
"'Q-questioning?' But I-I don't know anything," Kenner stuttered.
"I wasn't going to kill him," Jinx snorted, twirling a second spike into view. "Just puncture a few non-essentials to help him think."
Kenner paled.
"How many of those things do you have," Steve demanded.
Jinx bared her teeth. "Enough to kill everyone in the room," she said cheerfully.
Kenner promptly wetted his pants.
"Gah! Spirit! Get that trash outta here," BeachHead ordered. "Jinx! Stop fooling around and do something useful! Take Spirit's place so he can clear the air!"
"Who was fooling," Jinx muttered under her breath. The spikes vanished from sight. She leapt over the desk and knelt next to Spirit, who had removed the stiff jacket from the officer and pumped the heart under the flabby chest with all of his strength.
The tracker looked at her apologetically as he worked. "My sister, I do not know if your weight is enough to move this one's bulk to keep him alive."
Her brow wrinkled in thought as she eyed the fat man. Suddenly she winked. "Don't worry. I've got a plan. Just get Stinky there out of here so I can work."
Wisely, Spirit didn't ask. He just relinquished his spot, made four members of his squad each take a limb of the soiled Major, and bum rushed him all the way to the stockade.
"You two," BeachHead said, pointing to the two Greenshirt guards. "Clean that mess up. DO I HEAR WHINING," he roared as they began to groan.
"NO, SARGENT!"
"I thought not," BeachHead huffed, resisting the urge to massage his burning chest. "I'm sorry about all this, Captain. As you obviously know," he said, nodding to the muddy Greenshirt uniform the Captains wore, "feelings are running a little high right now."
"It's alright, Sargent. As you saw, I'm not exactly immune to them. Was he here to replace Hawk," the Captain asked, gesturing at Maddox.
"Yes, sir," BeachHead said. "But he didn't have the proper paperwork. There are procedures to be followed---"
A loud electric buzz cut through the air.
BeachHead jumped to his feet and craned his neck to see the General in just his undershirt and trousers with Jinx holding a taser near his chest. "JINX! What the blazes do you think you're doing?"
"Jump starting his heart," she said matter-of-factly.
"Don't be an idiot," he snapped. "You need bare skin for that. Take the undershirt off and try again."
"Gotcha." She slit Maddox's shirt open with a knife and shocked him again. He let out a gasp. She put an ear to his chest. "I got a beat!"
BeachHead nodded gravelly. "Nice work, Jinx. Just in time, too," he commented as the medics filed in. With Steve's help the medics managed to lift the General onto the gurney.
"Wait a minute," Jinx said. She dipped her hand into Maddox's coat pocket.
"Jinx, what are you doing," Jaye asked.
The ninja held up the black velvet box and tossed the coat onto Maddox. "Just taking back what doesn't belong to him." She tossed the box to BeachHead.
"Damn thieving Brass," BeachHead muttered, carefully putting the box back into the drawer. "Beuke, Rollins, that'll do for now. Give your mess to the medics and get back to your posts. You medics, get that carpetbagger outta my sight!"
The Greenshirts all beat a hasty retreat, leaving the three Joe vets and the Captain alone in the office.
BeachHead turned to the Captain. "Sir, what's going on," BeachHead demanded bluntly. "What are you doing here?"
Steve sighed and produced a set of folded papers from a waterproof pocket in his overshirt.
"What's this," BeachHead asked.
Steve looked at the gilt eagle on the wall holding a little matte frame in its claws. "A promise."
BeachHead unfolded the papers.
The Seal of the President of the United States were stamped on the pages.
BeachHead scanned the orders. He gave Jaye a hard look. He re-read the orders carefully. "Are these signatures genuine? All of them?"
Jaye nodded. "Yes. If you don't believe me have Mainframe look them up. These orders are registered in GI Joe's personnel records as of this evening, as well as in the DOD's Classified databanks, and in the President's own files." She smiled. "In triplicate. With back-up files."
Jinx's eyebrow shot up. "You've been busy."
Jaye raked her hair back wearily. "You have no idea."
"I believe you'll find everything in order," Steve said.
BeachHead placed the papers down on the desk. He straightened, ignored the shooting pains in his chest, and looked the Captain square in the eyes. "Captain America, SIR!" He saluted smartly. "I relinquish Command."
"Sargent Wayne R. Sneeden…" Gravely, Captain America saluted back. "…I accept Command."
Lady Jaye let out a sigh of relief.
It was official.
Captain America was the new Joe Leader.
Steve didn't waste anymore time. "Let's go!" They all poured out of the office. The Greenshirts trailed behind them, looking bewildered. "BeachHead, give me a sit-rep. What are you doing to get our men back?"
"Stalker is standing by with a strike force," BeachHead said. "We have a pretty good idea where Zarana took them. She leads the Chicago branch of the Dreadnok gang. Probably took them there. We're almost ready on our side. Mostly been waiting for word from some Covert Ops we got planted with the rest of the Dreadnoks. Didn't want to just blunder on in and screw the whole operation."
Steve nodded. "A good cautious attitude, Sargent, but---"
"Captain," Jaye said suddenly. "Where's SHIELD?"
"What?" Jinx scowled. "What about SHIELD?"
The Captain looked at BeachHead sharply. "No one from SHIELD's tried to contact you?"
"Not that I know of," BeachHead said.
"For some reason that doesn't comfort me," Jaye told Steve.
Steve's eyes narrowed as his mind raced. "Does anyone know if Low Light has a tattoo of a black bird, any bird, anywhere on him," he asked suddenly. "One that he didn't have when the team disbanded years ago?"
"Yes, sir," BeachHead said. "His own twist on the National Rifle Association insignia. Flying black owl holding two rifles against the Flag on his left biceps."
The Captain's steps picked up speed as he whipped out his Avenger's com-card. "Nick!"
No answer.
"Sharon!"
"What," Carter snapped. The background noise was full of wind and engines. "Cap, I'm a little busy---"
"WHERE'S NICK?"
A slight pause. "Why the sudden interest," she asked suspiciously. "And why is this call coming from Fort Wright-Patterson?"
"Nick, I know you're there too," Steve roared. "Nick, Sharon, you've GOT to pull back! You're going in blind! Let Joe take this---"
"I'm sorry, Cap," the gravelly voice of Fury said loudly over the whine of aircrafts. "They can't wait."
"NICK---"
He cut the line.
"I'll KILL them," Steve swore violently. He began to run. "Get me Mainframe!"
"Yes, sir," BeachHead said. He pressed a button on his wrist com. "Mainframe."
"Mainframe here. What's up, BeachHead?"
"The new CO wants to talk to you," BeachHead told him.
"Mainframe," Steve began. "This is Captain America---"
"HOKEY CROW," Mainframe blurted out.
"Get Wardog on the horn," Steve snapped. "NOW!"
Hawk felt like he was being churned in molasses. His limbs felt like they had been dipped in lead, his head felt stuffed with cotton and helium, and his wounds and ears pounded in time with his heart like a concert of jackhammers. He swallowed hard, barely wetting his throat, trying to pop the painful pressure in his ears. His eyes felt like all the sand in Utah had come to rest in them.
He'd had better days.
"---TOLD me sooner, I'd never 'ave given 'im that tranq," a woman complained.
Hawk recognized that voice.
"And I have told YOU, sister dear," a man hissed dangerously, "the Commander requested that he'd be awake AFTER you gave the General his medicine. I wasn't blaming you, so stop your whining!"
Zartan…?
"I dunno, Dad," a girl's voice said skeptically. "Can the old guy take all these mixed shots?"
"Why not ask him, daughter," Zartan chuckled. "I know you're awake, General."
Hawk cracked open his bloodshot eyes. He blinked, trying to focus his blurred vision in the dim…room? He tried to move. Futile. He was bound to a cushioned chair. There was something familiar about his surroundings…if only his brain didn't feel so foggy…
One fuzzy figure stepped closer to Hawk, towering above him. "Hello, General," Zartan purred. "How are you feeling?"
Hawk licked his lips. "Abernathy," he croaked. "Clayton M. Lieutenant General. RA2-127-5406."
Zartan sighed. "I think it's a little early in the game to be giving us your name, rank and serial number, General."
"'Ere now," Zarana said briskly, holding up what looked like three pairs of hands in front of his face. "'Ow many fingers am I 'olding up?"
Hawk blinked rapidly, trying to clear his vision, trying to clear his head. "Abernathy, Clayton M. Lieutenant General. RA2-127-5406."
"Sounds like his track's skipping," Zanya said with a smirk in her voice.
"Well," Zarana said. "Maybe THIS will knock 'im back on track."
A squarish glow appeared before Hawk.
There was an image on it.
"Take your time, General," Zartan said smugly.
"Maybe THIS will help faster," Zanya said sweetly.
Hawk let out a gasp as hot coffee hit the open wound in his neck and splattered over his hurt shoulder, dripping down over his cut chest.
"ZANYA," Zartan roared.
"What?"
"DON'T damage the goods before we get our pay," Zarana hissed.
"Haven't I taught you that much," Zartan yelled.
"Well, he's awake now," Zanya said defensively.
"I was awake before," Hawk said raspily. He licked his lips again, tasting the coffee. He made a face. "Terrible. Water's got more kick."
"We could arrange for refreshments more to your tastes," Zartan told him. "IF you agree to co-operate with us, that is."
Hawk looked the Dreadnok leader straight in the eyes. "Abernathy," Hawk said with great deliberation. "Clayton, M. Lieutenant General. RA2-1---"
"Oh, shut UP already," Zanya yelled. She practically shoved her elders away to lean nose to nose with Hawk. "If you say those damned numbers one more time---"
"You'll what, little girl," Hawk asked with a smirk. "Hurt me? Kill me?" He flicked his eyes at her father and aunt. "I don't think so. You haven't been paid yet."
"I won't do anything to you, old man." She reached behind her and held a laptop screen right up to his face. "I'll get someone to do something to HIM."
At the sight of the image on the screen, Hawk's face went still. "Low Light," he breathed.
Zartan put an arm around his daughter and smiled proudly. "Perhaps now, General, we can talk?"
