Chapter Eight

The Beaches of Sammeston Island

1.

Surprisingly light, but rapid machine-gun fire scraped the skin of the WHALE. It was impossible to determine exactly where on the island the shots were pouring from, but Roadblock's best guess was twenty-degrees north. Signaling the target area to Gung-Ho, he swerved his turret north, and the two Joes began a heavy bombardment of the tree-line behind the beaches. Plants and bushes erupted from the intense fire, and after only a few moments, the machine-gin fire towards the WHALE stopped.

"Go! Go! Go!" cried out Gung-Ho. The hovercraft's exit-ramp quickly flipped open. Leatherneck, Doc and Shipwreck sprinted out of the hold, down the ramp and across the beach. The light machine-gun fire began chasing the Joes, but Leatherneck took a stance and fired back into the brush, giving Doc and Shipwreck the cover they needed to make it to the tree-line. Before the Joe Marine could follow his teammates, an arrow zipped through the air and speared into his right shoulder. Leatherneck dropped his M-16 and fell to one knee. Shipwreck attempted to run out and help him, but a big burst of bullets spewed from the trees, and a giggling Dreadnok chased the Joe SEAL back into the brush.

"Damn!" cursed Roadblock.

"Let's go, Mr. Gourmet Chef!" ordered Gung-Ho as he slid down from his turret position and into the hold of the WHALE.

"Right on, Cajun-Boy!" Roadblock slid down as well, although it was a tight fit. Down in the transport area, Gung-Ho had already grabbed his back-pack and grenade-launcher and was making his way out of the hovercraft. Roadblock hefted up his .50-caliber machine-gun, slipped on his back-pack, checked the ammo-belt, and just for good measure, slapped on his old helmet.

As the biggest G.I. Joe machine-gunner stomped down the hovercraft's exit-ramp, he was amazed at the site. The little beach had become a complete war-zone. To the north, only small, maybe medium-stregnth assault-rifles were spraying the sand with rapid-fire. Just to the south, Shipwreck had come face-to-face with Buzzer and was in a fist-fight. Doc had even started wrestling with Monkeywrench! Where were all the Dreadnok's classic weapons?

As for Gung-Ho? What better way to save Leatherneck, than with grenades?

While dodging gunfire, the bare-breasted, roaring Cajun marine launched an explosive into the ground right between Torch and Leatherneck. The Dreadnok fell backwards, and dropped his Uzi, but Leatherneck was also knocked head-over-heels. There was a lot of swearing at that moment, but most of it was from Leatherneck to his fellow Marine Gung-Ho.

Since everyone seemed to have an opponent to fight, it only seemed logical that Roadblock take on the machine-gunner shooting from up the beach. The problem was, the Joe heavy-gunner wasn't sure where he was. Despite the danger, Roadblock moved as fast as he could across the wet sands, trying not to sink while carrying his heavy gear.

Then, the bullets turned towards him.

The big Joe dropped to the ground, and desperately tried to keep sand out of his rifle's important parts. It was impossible to keep the tide from licking the back of his feet. The bullets from the hidden Cobra were like bees swarming all around the big guy. Most of the shots missed, but a few were scraping, and it even felt like a couple may have stuck into his thick muscles. Fortunately, it didn't take long to pinpoint where the fire was coming from.

There you are. We can play your game. But when I carry this baby, I don't need to aim.

Roadblock pulled the trigger, and his massive machine-gun, or cannon, if you prefer, began shredding apart the brush directly ahead of him. After only a couple of seconds, the sound of a loud feminine shriek called out over the sound of the rifle's rapid bursts.

"Damn." The big gunner stood up from the sand, and attempted to pick up his .50-cal., only to realize that his arms had been too scrapped up with bullets; the best he could do was drag it. He was draining blood, but before he went crawling back to Doc, he had to confirm the kill.

As Roadblock took slow, cautious steps up the beach, his helmet slipped off of his head, fell onto a rock by his feet and dented. There were chips and scrapes across it from deflected bullets. Damn, that was a classic helmet!

About ten yards into the brush, Roadblock found Zarana laying on her back and breathing heavily. There was a lot of blood pouring from her left shoulder.

"Get…get away from me…you…you damn Joe…"

Roadblock set down his rifle and painfully tore his shirt in half. "Let me rap that up for you. I don't want you bleedin' to death."

Zarana frowned. "First ya try to kill me, now you're trying ta save me?"

Roadblock smiled. "It's called being one of the 'Good Guys'."

Zartan's sister screamed as her enemy-turned-savior wrapped her shoulder, then tied it as strongly as he could. "Like that's gonna help me, ya stupid Joe!"

"Sorry, baby, but it's the best I can do right now. I'm a little too torn up myself to try anything fancy. Don't worry about the shot: it went clean through, but it broke a bone or two. Right now, we just need to stop the bleedin'. Maybe Doc can look at you. If he survives this."

Zarana blinked her eyes in disbelief at the burly behemoth kneeling next to her. "Do you want somethin' from me, Joe?"

Roadblock smiled. "Maybe you can stay out of the fight from now on?"

"Like I have a choice. By the way, I like bein' a 'Bad Guy.'" She nodded to something over the machine-gunner's right shoulder.

"Huh?" Roadblock tried to stand up and turn around, but it was too late; an arrow whistled through the air and punctured his right tricep. "Ow! Damn! That was my good arm!"

Before Roadblock could work on getting the arrow out, another arrow stabbed through his left bicep. "Dammit! That better not be you, Storm Shadow! I told Snake I'd leave you up to him, but now you're really pissin' me off!"

Another shot speared into the left side of his chest. "Aauuggh!" The big Joe gunner started coughing and spitting up blood. "Damn…damn you Storm Shadow!"

Bushes and plants rustled as Zartan walked into view—carrying his Sonic Bow. "I'm a little insulted, mighty Roadblock, that you Joes think that that psychotic moron Storm Shadow is the only Cobra that can shoot a bow and arrow."

Roadblock dropped to his knees and coughed. The accumulation of the bullet-wounds and now arrow-wounds were too much, even for the G.I. Joe walking super-fortress. "Maybe…maybe he's the only one…with any talent."

Zartan's chest began to glow red, but it soon calmed back down. "Very good, Mr. Roadblock. But you don't win this time." The Dreadnok Leader pulled out an arrow and drew back his Sonic Bow. "And even if I don't have any talent, I'm not going to miss at this distance."

Roadblock looked up to see the tip of an arrow less than arm's length from his face. He knew there was only one thing left for a big Joe gunner to do.

Laugh.

2.

Cackling in triumph, Wild Weasel placed the pistol's barrel against Zartan's stomach, sending the whimpering Dreadnok to his knees, hands folded.

"P-please, great Wild Weasel, don't kill me! I-I beg of you! I will never give you an order ever again!"

Cobra's Ace Pilot smiled. "Damn straight you won't." Pulling the trigger sent the leader of the Dreadnoks shaking and slumping to the ground.

"Master!" screamed his henchmen as they ran towards his quickly rotting carcass, crying in hysteria. Wild Weasel was about to shoot them as well, but somehow, he was now in his Rattler, ready to blast them with the 30mm gatling cannon. Confused, but pulling the trigger nevertheless, Wild Weasel cheered in triumph. But Zartan's minions wouldn't die. They magically transformed into massive, rabid hyenas, jumping at the blue jet fighter, snapping their salivating jaws and swinging their broken claws into the air.

"Get away from me, you dogs!" roared Wild Weasel as he now fired his Rattler's missiles at the Dreadnok mutts and incinerated the lot of them.

"You will never defeat me! I am more than you could ever hope to become!" gloated Cobra's Ace Pilot as he flew off into the sunset…until a massive tower speared up from the ground. Deep red and flaming hot, it blocked the Rattler's flight path. Suddenly, arms spread from its sides and a huge head grew out of the top…it became Zartan…a giant Zartan forever in the path of Wild Weasel.

"You fool!" bellowed the voice of the Dreadnok leader, "You can never escape from me! I am invincible! I am your shadow, your curse, your destruction!"

"No!" screamed Wild Weasel as he swerved away from the sickeningly huge Dreadnok. But as the Rattler attempted to escape, the Dreadnok hyenas leapt out of Zartan's red chest and ensnared the blue assault fighter in their teeth and claws, shattering it to pieces, sending Wild Weasel falling out of the Rattler to his eternal doom. He cried for mercy as he plummeted into the blackness, but no one heard him…

Then…he woke up.

When he awoke, he was immediately blinded by the strength of the sunlight.

Was that all…a dream? He could feel his heart pounding, and sweat soaking his body.

The relief from realizing his dream status was short-lived, however.

Am I…upside down? Everything was flipped over, and Wild Weasel had quite a headache. He tried to wipe the sweat from his forehead, but quickly realized that he couldn't move his arms. He couldn't move anything. He was completely wrapped in fuel hose. Those damn Dreadnoks did this, I know it!

Footsteps. Looking down…er…up, Cobra's Ace Pilot could see a Lamprey Eel walking towards him—carrying a knife.

3.

Was he looking at a scene from Predator or The Three Stooges? Seeing a man wrapped in hose can be a bit frightening, but the ridiculously sloppy job that the Dreadnoks did forced Skellar to snicker. Add to the fact that the tree branch supporting the inverted pilot was sticking out from just above the crotch, and the whole project cried out "The Work of a Doofus."

Regardless, Wild Weasel had just cried out in fear. He had a nightmare, and had awoken just now. Niles didn't get to him in time. Now the pilot had humiliation to deal with.

"Wha—what do you want, Lamprey?" asked Cobra's Ace Pilot in an aching voice. "Did they send you to kill me?"

It was strange to see Wild Weasel's face. For the longest time, he had been a sort of unidentifiable robot behind that massive red helmet of his. But now the helmet was lying on the ground next to him. It was refreshing to see that Cobra's self-proclaimed "God of the Skies" was human after all.

"Don't jump ta any conclusions, Wild Weasel. Don't ya think the Dreadnoks would rather be doin' that themselves?"

Studying the Ace Pilot's eyes for the first time ever, the Moray pilot could see him thinking. "Yeah, they probably would. So are you here to cut me down, or just laugh?"

Skellar checked over his shoulder before lowering to one knee. "Again, don't be jumpin' ta conclusions. I'm not here to control ya. I want ta be on your side!" Skellar leaned in closer, "But I have ta be sure that I can trust ya."

Normally Wild Weasel would laugh off such a cheesy statement and go get a beer, but at this moment he really had no other option but to listen. "Go on."

Niles slowly nodded. "We have something in common: the Dreadnoks are using and—well, look at yourself—abusing us."

Cobra's Ace Pilot squirmed. "You seem to be doing rather well."

The Lamprey stood up and spread his arms and turned to the east. "Do you really believe that? Two Dreadnoks have sworn ta kill me once this little endeavor of theirs is over. I may not be hanging now, but I might be soon. Aye, I might be." Skellar took a step back and spread his arms, "Unless I get me an ally! Someone in as dire straits as meself. Someone who hates the Zartan bunch as much as I do. Someone who wants to teach them Dreadnok bastards a little lesson in common courtesy! Someone…like you Wild Weasel!"

Cobra's Ace Pilot broke out in hysterical laughter. "What? Me? You want us to team up and betray Cobra, just so we can get a little vengeance towards the Dreadnoks? You're freakin' insane!"

"Look at yourself, Wild Weasel! You're hangin' upside down by yer crotch, wrapped up in hose, waitin' for the Dreadnoks to come kill ya! What have you got ta lose?"

Wild Weasel looked to the horizon for a few seconds, then back to Skellar. "What do you propose we do? Join the Joes?"

Niles growled. "I will never assist the United States."

"Sorry, fish boy, but if you want the Dreadnoks to lose, you'll have to help the Joes win."

Skellar stood and stroked his chin for a few moments, deep in strategic thought. Wild Weasel was getting very anxious to get cut down, but didn't want to risk ticking off the only person on the entire island who might do it.

The Lamprey pirouetted on his right foot and took a sinister-looking stance with the sun at his back. "Then the only answer is: both sides must lose!"

Wild Weasel really wished he could scratch his head at that moment.

4.

There was no other choice. If he shot Zartan, his finger would release the arrow, and it would probably get sent straight into Roadblock's skull. He was too far away to attempt making a run at the Dreadnok, so, it was time to toss his pride out the window. Oh, the joys of being a G.I. Joe.

Torpedo jumped up from the brush and started hopping, howling and hooting like a hyper orangutang.

"What the hell?" cursed Zartan. He turned his attention away from the mighty Joe chef, but that was just what the Joe SEAL wanted. When the Dreadnok leader lowered his sonic bow in order to get a clearer view of the wacked-out Joe dancer, Torpedo raised his Uzi and opened fire.

Zartan dove for the ground, and Roadblock quickly joined him. "Blimey! What the 'ell is goin' on?" cried out Zarana, who was still on her back and couldn't see anything.

"Some insane Joe is shooting at me!"

"Well, shoot 'im back!"

"I've only got a bow! It's a little difficult to return fire with it!"

"Well grab me gun! It'll work just fine!"

"Don't bother." Torpedo stood next to the Dreadnoks, holding his submachine gun in perfect alignment with Zartan's head. "Move away from the bow."

"'Pedo! Good to…good to see you, bro." cheered Roadblock as he slowly sat up on his knees.

"You don't look so good there, big guy."

"Just a…just a few scratches. Got in worse shape…at Steeler's last kegger."

Torpedo had to hold back a burst of laughter. "Yeah, that was a good one."

"Will you two Joes just shut up." Growled Zartan.

Torpedo grinned. "Sore loser there, mystery man?"

Zartan returned the smile. "But I haven't lost, Joe."

Roadblock's eyes bugged out in panic. "Torpedo! Look out!"

Black.