Thanks again for reading! Thanks also for the encouraging reviews-I appreciate each and every one.
I still don't own G.I. Joe, Hasbro, Marvel or any of its affliliates. I'm only borrowing the characters for a while. I promise to give them back when I am finished.
Any questions: Feel free to PM me.
Note: Flint quotes from Walt Whitman's The Wound Dresser, part 2, from the collected poems, Drum-Taps.
Flint sat outside the infirmary waiting for news of Lady Jaye. A laptop was open in front of him, but he didn't look like he was accomplishing much work.
"So, how many others are here?" Scarlett asked quietly, taking the seat next to him.
Flint turned, and taking in her attire, smiled. She had showered, eaten, and dressed in her Joe uniform. She had even managed to pull her hair back into some semblance of a ponytail. She was herself, again, minus the long hair.
"Ripcord was the first," he said, offering her a bottle of water from his stash, a six-pack cooler sitting at his feet. "Then, Dial-Tone. Alpine, Breaker, and Footloose showed up a little later. Doc is the most recent. Clutch and Steeler should be arriving tonight. Mutt'll be back tomorrow. He's on assignment."
"Mutt?" Her eyes widened as she took the bottle.
He leaned back in his chair and smiled. "Slim pickings. The Joes of higher rank and more experience—especially those known to the public—are having a harder time getting here than others." He looked at the closed door where Doc was inside with Lady Jaye. "You should know."
Scarlett followed his gaze and nodded.
"We've had contact with several others," Flint continued. "And like you and Lady Jaye, they are having to travel by foot."
"Who?" she asked, folding her legs underneath her. She opened the water and took a sip. Wonderful, clean, precious water. She would never take it for granted again.
"Shipwreck, Spirit, Lifeline, Gung Ho, and Wild Bill—"
Scarlett hid her smile as she watched him. It was obvious that Flint's attention was divided. Every so often as he spoke, he glanced toward the door where Lady Jaye was inside.
"—A few others," he continued.
"It's a good start," Scarlett said.
Flint nodded. He leaned forward and tapped through a few screens on his computer. Then, he cleared his throat. "Red, there's another thing you should know," he said quietly.
"What?" Something in his voice made her wary. She gripped the water bottle tightly.
"Some of us didn't make it."
"What! No, Flint!" She made a strangled cry. "Who?" she asked, dreading the answer.
Flint sighed. "Cross-Country, Bazooka, and Torpedo have been confirmed KIA. We're still investigating the reports about Barbecue and Cutter but—it doesn't look good."
Scarlett sat in stunned silence. "Five Joes. Gone?" She choked back a sob. "How can that be? They were my friends. My family."
Flint's jaw clenched but he didn't say anything. Being a Joe was more than a nine to five job. You didn't leave work at the end of the day to return to your family. You lived with these guys, day in and day out. They were your family. And when you lost one—well—
Scarlett wiped a tear from her cheek. "What happened, Flint?"
"Ambushed." His face darkened like a smoldering fire. "By civilians. They couldn't—wouldn't fight back." He clenched and released his hands several times. His voice broke. "They were good soldiers."
Scarlet nodded, wiping away more tears. To be gunned down by the very people they had spent their lives protecting. She felt sick, like she'd just been kicked in the gut.
They both fell silent, lost in their own thoughts and memories.
After a while, Flint cleared his throat again. "I'm still waiting to hear from Beach Head, Low-light, Dusty, and Rock N' Roll, among others. I don't know their status."
She wiped away another tear. "It's hard, isn't it?" she said.
Flint sighed heavily. "Hard doesn't even begin to touch it, Red."
She nodded and looked away. "So much has been taken from us," she said softly. Slowly, she drew a finger through the condensation on her bottle. She glanced at Flint and chewed her lip uncertainly. "Have you—uh—heard anything about Duke?" she asked softly.
Flint turned toward her with sympathy. "No, Red. I'm sorry," he said gently.
She nodded and smiled sadly. "What about Snake Eyes? Or Hawk?" she asked, trying to hide her disappointment.
"No," he said, rubbing circles in his temple. "They rounded up the Joes at the Pitt and arrested everyone before we realized what was happening. All I've managed to find out is that they—along with Roadblock, Stalker, and all the rest—are in individual cells locked away in maximum security."
Scarlett pressed her lips together to keep from sighing. What he had told her was nothing more than she had already known. "It doesn't exactly make the nightly news, does it?" She quipped.
"No. They've been extremely secretive about the whole thing." Flint said, lapsing into a brooding silence.
"I guess it's a good thing your two best intel officers just arrived." She joked. Then seeing that her smile was lost on him, she frowned. "Flint—There's something else you're not telling me, isn't there?" she asked.
Flint frowned, and then released a sigh so deep that it must have risen from his toes. "Red, I would have been with them if Hawk hadn't ordered me to go. I should have been with them." Pain and guilt bled from his voice.
She stared at him in surprise. "Flint, you made it out." She placed a hand on his knee. "You made it here. What's wrong with that?"
"I left them behind, Red. All of them." Shame dripped from every word. His next words were so soft Scarlett had to strain to hear them. "Yet I think I could not refuse this moment to die for you, if that would save you—" He looked away.
Scarlett stared at him thoughtfully. This was not the brash, overconfident Warrant Officer she had come to know. She realized she was seeing a side of Flint that Lady Jaye liked to call "the poet within the soldier." His bared heart. And though she may not have been able to rattle off the source of the quote as easily as her best friend, she did understand the meaning:
The man was hurting.
"Flint," she said more softly. "I've been a Joe since the very beginning—longer than you or Lady Jaye. So, believe me when I tell you. No one blames you. You did what you had to do, what was expected of you."
"But I left them behind, Red. All of them," he said bitterly. "A Joe never leaves a Joe behind."
"There was nothing you could have done, Flint." Her blue eyes bore into him. "We were spread so thin. Most of us were gone. We were all caught off guard."
"But the Pitt is gone," Flint said quietly. "They destroyed it." Flint's hurt was still very raw, and she suddenly realized how heavy the burden he was carrying.
The burden they were all carrying.
"I know." She sighed. Then, her voice grew angry. "The whole world turned upside down that night." Her eyes darkened. "See a Joe, shoot on sight," she quoted. "They planned it well. Too well."
"Whoever they are." Flint's jaw clenched.
Scarlett nodded. "So, what are you going to do about it?" She looked at him expectantly.
"Do?" He asked in surprise.
"You're in charge," she said simply.
He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. "I don't know, Red. At least not yet. We're still pretty thin. Right now, I'm just waiting to see if anyone else shows up."
"You mean when." She corrected. "More Joes will come. It's only a matter of time," she said confidently.
He nodded. "I suppose so."
"They will," she insisted. She touched his chin, forcing him to meet her unflinching gaze. "And when they get here, we'll make a plan."
He stared.
"We have to—" The undertones of pain were still there, but there was determination, too. And strength. "We have some Joes we owe," Scarlett said.
Flint made a fist and slowly released it. He nodded. "You're right, Red," he said. "As usual." Then, he gave her a small smile. "Thanks."
"For what?"
"For giving me a kick in the butt when I needed it most."
Her return smile was warm. "What are friends for?"