Chapter 4
Down-Sizing
Settling behind a pile of rubble nearly a hundred yards away, the second team of Joes examined the southern side of the broken office building. It wasn't tall; only three floors, but it had alleys surrounding it, and very few entrances. The only door on the first floor was on the right half of the wall; on the left side sat a dumpster.
"That red door looks like our only choice." Said Tunnel Rat.
"We're being watched." Noticed Low-Light.
"What?" Rock'n'Roll could never accept the Joe sniper's incredible eyesight.
"Second floor. Dead center." Low-Light set up his rifle and stared through its massive scope.
"How many and what are they carrying?" asked Stalker.
"Three. Couple 47s and an RPG."
"Damn."
"RPG doesn't have a sure shot at this range. I don't think he wants to risk wasting a shot." Low-Light cocked his rifle.
"You got him lined up?" asked Rock'n'Roll.
"Yup." Low-Light pulled the trigger, kicking his gun a bit, then quickly re-cocked it. Pathfinder quickly looked through his binoculars.
"Think you got him?"
"Yup. Can't get the rifles. They pulled back inside."
"All right," said Stalker, "Let's get going before they get the balls to come back out to the ledge." The Joes jumped over the rubble and ran for the terrorist stronghold. Halfway to the building, in the parking lot of a gas station, the Joes dove for cover behind a bus. A machine-gunner had come back to the window ledge and started shooting.
"Now what?" asked Tunnel Rat.
Stalked turned around. "Everybody pop out around the left side of the bus and start shooting. Zap, you step out from behind the right side and take him out with your bazooka."
"Yes, sir."
Once the firing stopped, Stalker cried out, "He's reloading, go!"
The Joes jumped out and started firing, but had difficulties hitting the gunner from fifty yards away. In only moments, the terrorist began returning fire with the assistance of an ally armed with another AK-47.
"Damn it! What's Zap waiting for?" growled Tunnel Rat.
Almost on cue, a thunderous bang echoed through the air as a small rocket was launched from the right side of the bus, and quickly smashed into the third-floor position of the terrorist gunners. As the explosion sent debris and smoke spurting from the building, Stalker knew that it was a good time to run, whether the shooters were still alive or not.
Often stumbling over gravel and fallen scrap, the team sprinted for the building. Scimitar reached the door first, and waited for the rest of the team to arrive.
"So, Stalker. Now that we're here, how do we get in?" asked Tunnel Rat.
"Well, seein' how they already know that we're here, I think the best thing to do is the tactic we used back in Cambodia."
"What's that?"
Stalker lifted up his leg, and smashed in the door. Machine gun fire quickly followed, and the G.I. Joe ranger swung back around the doorway.
"That's your great strategy?" snarled Tunnel Rat.
"Didn't work in Cambodia, either."
"Let's try mine." Offered Zap. Pulling out the pin of a grenade, he tossed it into the doorway. Amidst a chaotic rush of Arabic cries of panic, the grenade exploded. The Joes ran into the entrance and opened fire. Any person not already killed by the grenade was soon put to rest by Joe bullets.
A short distance from the door was a stairway, and to the left was a hallway. Stalker pointed to it, "Zap, Rock'n'Roll: come with me up the stairs. Tunnel Rat, Scimitar, Pathfinder: find another way up." The group split and moved as fast as was reasonable through the building.
After less than a minute, Tunnel Rat found another stairway at the far end of the hall. There was no more resistance on the first floor. Stalker's group scrambled up the stairs, but cautiously stepped out onto the second floor. Panic-stricken talk reverberated down the hall, and the Joe ranger waved his team towards the source.
A terrorist walked unknowingly out into the hall, but quickly saw the Joes, screamed with fear and dove back into the room he had just exited. At the far end of the hall, Tunnel Rat's group crept onto the floor. Stalker pointed upwards. Tunnel Rat reversed back to the stairway and continued up to the third floor.
What was once a fountain of babble, was now a tomb of silence. Stalker knew that just standing in the hall would achieve nothing, so he cautiously took a step forward…creaking the floor horribly. In the silence, even the softest sound was amplified to deafening levels.
Stalker's saving grace was the worst kind of all.
Gunfire from the third floor thundered through the building. Taking the only chance they had, the Joe team charged forward, but before they could reach the right-side doorway, Stalker stopped the group two feet away from the door. Once the fire from the third floor died down, he used the barrel of his M-32 to tap the wall. Heavy bursts of fire began tearing up the wall next to the door, right where a Joe would normally have been standing if he was waiting to get in. As soon as the shooting stopped, Stalker ran to the room and swung ninety-degrees, then began shooting at all possible targets.
"Stalker, drop!" barked Rock'n'Roll. The Joe ranger fell onto his chest as the Joe machine-gunner stepped up and aimed in the opposite direction, then fired into the room on the left side of the hall. A loud thump could be heard moments later.
Stalker stood back up, brushing himself off. "Thanks, Rock. I owe you one." The ranger looked into the other room. "How did you know he was in there?"
"Didn't. Just figured he was. Don't these kind of guys always have someone covering their backs?"
With an awkward curve to his smile, Stalker nodded. "Yeah. Yeah they do."
Tunnel Rat entered the hall from the stairway. "You guys all right? Sounded pretty heavy down here."
"Yeah." Replied Stalker, "Sounds like you guys saw a little action, too."
"Not really." Explained Pathfinder. "One guy survived Zap's shot, and took a couple vengeful shots, but he was too hurt to aim straight."
"Glad to hear it." Stalker sighed, relieved that it was all over, for now.
1.
"Well, look who's always showing up late!" poked Stalker as Flint's group came slowly walking through the re-opened blockade.
Raising his hand in a wave, the warrant officer grinned as his team reached the vehicles and crashed to the ground in fatigue. "How long have you guys been here?"
"Only about ten minutes. The guys are in the APC resting. I figured I should look better than you and wait out here."
"Asshole."
"That's better-than-you ass-hole." Corrected Stalker.
"Yeah, yeah. Hey, we had fifteen injured soldiers to move."
"We helped clean out the bodies from the office building. We didn't exactly loaf around." Stalker took a swig from his canteen, then handed it to Flint, who quickly snatched it.
"Anybody get hurt?" asked the warrant officer.
"Nope. We lucked out. How about you?"
Flint sighed. "Spearhead got one through the shoulder, but it's clean. I'm not going to pull him. He can still man a turret or even shoot a light rifle."
"That's good. He's a good pointman."
Flint coughed, then asked, "Where's Clutch?"
"Over here." G.I. Joe's veteran jeep driver walked over to Flint, who was now passionately drinking Stalker's water.
Wiping his lips, Flint asked, "Are the vehicles ready to go?"
"Of course they are. You think I'm lazy or something? I've got the VAMP ready, Thunder has the APC ready and Heavy Metal has the Mauler up and running. I even took care of your precious Hammer."
"Oh god," Flint hunched over, "I forgot that I have to drive that thing. Damn." Standing back up he called over to his team. "C'mon guys, let's group at the back of the APC."
The Joes groaned as they moved to the rear of the lengthy vehicle. Once there, Flint spoke up. "Okay, guys, we're all exhausted, but we're also on a schedule. It's dangerous, but I'm going to let you sleep in shifts over the next couple of hours. The drivers are fine, which is why we left them out of the fights, but we're wasted. Anybody that isn't sleeping needs to stay awake, and stay sharp. We've got a long way to go, and we can't forget where we are."
Murmurs of agreement and head nods ensued. The Joes soon took their vehicle positions. After Flint thought up a sleep shift, the convoy began to creep forward, and slowly made its way through Fallujah. A shower of appreciation rained from the Army soldiers assigned throughout the city.
2.
Back on the highway, Lady Jaye spoke to Flint. "You know, there's no way that we got rid of every terrorist in that city."
Flint stared forward with a poker-face. "I never said that we did. We'd be fools to even try, considering what little time we have."
"It just makes me feel guilty to leave that burden on those Army troops."
"Look, those are Special Forces troops; they know their jobs. Most of them are just as good if not better than we are. If you think about it, what gives G.I. Joe the edge isn't the quality of its troops, it's our customized, fancy weapons. Take those away and we're not much different than those Special Forces."
"How can you say that? It can take years to be approved for G.I. Joe. You have to be an absolutely incredible soldier to be a Joe. Look at Stalker. He's seen more action than everyone in this jeep, combined. He still uses his old M-32 machine gun. Do you think his edge comes from his weapon? I sure don't."
Flint thought for a few moments, then conceded, "Okay, there are plenty of super-troops in our team, such as Stalker, Snake-Eyes and Duke. I just feel that we need to tighten this team up; make sure the missile-shooters and computer-hackers can keep themselves alive in an environment such as this. Cobra's been a pretty sloppy opponent for a long time, now. I just want to know: when we're put into a war-zone, can all of our team take the stress?"
Lady Jaye shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know. I really don't know."
Dusty wasn't asleep, although he was on the sleep shift. His eyes couldn't keep themselves from staring out the window. It was a different view than Baghdad. There was more death and destruction in this city. But as the desert trooper analyzed the surroundings, he noticed people emerging from grocery stores and apartment buildings. The Joes had offered them a chance to live again, at least for a short time.
Perhaps all the suffering was worth it after all.
Dusty closed his eyes.
3.
Five miles west of Fallujah, the convoy passed a row of cars racing east back towards the city.
"I don't like the look of that." Said Lady Jaye.
"What was wrong?" asked Flint.
"They seemed eager to get away from us."
"Hmm…"
"Hey, Flint." Called down Rock'n'Roll.
"Speak to me!"
Pointing to the northwest, the machine gunner spoke loud, "There's a car parked out in the field over there, behind a big lump of dirt."
Flint looked over, then quickly grabbed his radio phone, "Clutch! Hit your brakes! This is an—!"
The explosion drowned out the end of his sentence.