Chapter 13
Strike Three
1.
When Roadblock had smacked him in the face with the hangar doors, Gung-Ho should have known that this mission was going to be hell. It was a sign from God, and he was too pissed off at Roadblock to see it at the time.
But this mission was also a growing experience, no doubt about it. Looking back at Sammeston Island from the smoky, rattling Sky Hawk, he watched the island burst into flames from the unholy amount of destruction Cobra was dumping onto it.
So this is what it feels like to get yer ass kicked.
"Thank god, we made it!" called out Rampart from his stance on the landing skid in front of the Joe Marine.
Gung-Ho turned his head back around and saw the G.I. Jane closing in, now just a stone's-throw away. It looked about as bad as Sammeston Island. The Jane was a big freighter, bigger than a standard commercial freighter, but it was no battleship. Its deck was a pile of destruction, and its hull was still leaking smoke out the sides. There was no doubt that it was taking on water, since it had a slight tilt to it. It was amazing that it was still afloat.
The Sky Hawk closed in on the landing pad, itself cracked and burned but cleared off for the Hawk's arrival. A Tomahawk sat next to the pad, brutally shot up and shattered as well. It was curious that all of its bombs were missing.
As the aircraft closed in on the rear of the freighter, a deafening backfire from the right turbofan engine knocked Gung-Ho off of the Sky Hawk. After falling fifteen feet and landing on his right shoulder, he looked up to see the smoking jet-craft spinning out of control. The rescued Joes desperately held onto the landing skids.
"Let go!" he screamed up to them, "Jump off the damn thing!"
Eventually all of the passengers were thrown free of the Sky Hawk, crashing into debris and vehicles. The Hawk spun horizontally into the control tower, shattering its fuselage, but miraculously holding back a flaming explosion.
"Damn!" Despite his broken leg and shoulder, Gung-Ho scrambled for the Sky Hawk. Using his still-good left arm, he broke open the damaged cockpit hatch. Navy seamen from the deck crew ran over to help him as he reached in and tried to unhook the straps holding Torpedo's unconscious body to the seat.
Unable to unhook the straps with one hand, Gung-Ho screamed a curse into the air. Suddenly, someone grabbed Gung-Ho from behind and shoved him away, where he tripped on some wreckage. Before he could get back up, the Marine saw Duke whipping the straps off. The Joe Master Sergeant then pulled Torpedo out over his shoulder, and offered Gung-Ho a hand up. Ignoring the hurt to his ego, the Cajun Marine accepted, and the Joes ran away from the Sky Hawk moments before it burst into one final explosion as the engine's flames reached the fuel tanks.
Duke wiped the sweat from his brow with his free hand. "Sorry about that, Gung-Ho, but it looked like you were having trouble, and we didn't have much time." A look of concern spread across his face, "Are you alright?"
"Of course I'm alright, Duke. Marines don't get hurt. 'Specially Joe Marines…" With that, Gung-Ho collapsed to the deck of the G.I. Jane.
2.
Oh my god, don't tell me this is going to work!
Wild Weasel's teeth were grinding so hard he could feel them cracking. He wanted nothing more than to tear Zartan apart over the failure of his plan to have the FANGs pull the WHALE out to sea, but the little choppers were spread out in a good formation, with six chains of varying length hooked up to the hovercraft, and they were actually sliding the big green behemoth off of the eastern beach of Cobra Outpost Seven.
"Hurry up Zartan! Those bombs is everywhere! We's gonna get vaporized!" cried Ripper.
"Patience, fool! This takes time! Cobra won't attack us because we've got a squadron of FANGs around us, don't worry!"
Wild Weasel could hear a hint of uncertainty in Zartan's voice.
"I've got a question for you, Zartan." sneered Cobra's Ace Pilot.
The Dreadnok Leader groaned and looked up into the sky. "What do you want, Wild Weasel?"
"Do you really think that a handful of FANGs have enough fuel to get us back to Cobra Island?"
Zarana walked over to Wild Weasel. "Can I kill him, brother? Pretty please? He's really digging under me nails."
"Not yet, dear sister. Of course they can't get us to Cobra Island, but don't you feel anything is better than staying on this island, Mr. Super-Pilot-Guy?"
He's got a point.
"So what do we do when they're out of fuel?"
"If you ask one more question, Zarana will get to kill you." Oh, how Wild Weasel hated Zartan's grin.
"Fine."
Before Wild Weasel could step back to a lone spot at the stern of the WHALE, Zarana stepped up to him. "By the way, Weasel-boy, I think I'll take back me necklace now."
Wild Weasel's face went pale. He had totally forgotten about the jewelry he had stolen from Zarana back at the landing pad. "What…what are you talking about?"
Zarana reached into his chest pocket and pulled out a gold and diamond necklace, then wrapped it around her neck. "I dropped it on purpose to see how stupid ya are. When ya kept for yerself, I knew ya wouldn't help us one bloomin' bit. I admire yer greed, but yer damn stupid. I'm itchin' ta shove ya to the sharks." She kissed the jewel on the end of the necklace and walked back to Zartan.
The rage boiling in Wild Weasel's mind was overwhelming. Why couldn't he ever get a step ahead of these idiot Dreadnoks? Was revenge even a possibility?
As the chance for revenge met him at the boat's stern, it wasn't very difficult for him to slide overboard and swim away laughing.
3.
"We're comin' up on 'em, boys. Let's knock their slithering butts all the way back to Cobra Island!"
"Yo Joe!"
Air battle out over the ocean in a Conquest X-30 was not something that Slipstream saw very often. Ace usually got all the action in his XF-14 Skystriker, since it's assigned to the USS Flagg. But today, the Flagg was twenty-thousand miles away in the Indian Ocean providing support for Anti-Cobra operations in the Middle East. And since the Sammeston Island operation was supposed to be low-key, there were to be no aircraft out over the gulf until Duke gave the "all clear" signal.
But suddenly, Cobra is out in full force and the Jane is attacked. Slipstream is pulled from a great dinner of shrimp salad and garlic bread and scrambled with a squadron of four Conquests, piloted by himself, Ripcord, Flash and Paylod. Slipstream hated to say it, but it was just about a "bottom of the barrel" crew. Granted, Ripcord was a good pilot, and Payload had been a fighter pilot twenty years ago, but he was an astronaut now. Could he still fly a figher? With every other pilot working in the Middle East, anybody who could fly was called to duty, even the Level Three pilot Flash, who had spent more time helping Slipstream design the Conquest's weapons system than in the cockpit.
"Drop to attack speed and let's go help out our buddies." Ordered Slipstream as the swarm of Cobra fighters came into view. Somewhere in that mess was a Dragonfly and a Tomahawk, and they needed some help.
"Should we split up?" asked Flash.
"Negative. We stay in formation and cover our wingmen until we find the helicopters, then we take out any and all attacking aircraft."
"Roger."
This battle was going to take a lot of abstract battle tactics, but the best way to make the strange stuff work was to make it look normal…
It didn't take long to find the first of the Joe helicopters. Two Cobra FANGs exploded and began their fiery collapses into the sea. There was only one chopper pilot that could shoot that fast.
"Wild Bill! Would you like a little assistance?"
"Sheeoot! I was wonderin' when you boys 'ould get here. I've only got about five bullets left!"
"Then let us clear you a way home, cowboy." Slipstream gained immediate missile-lock on an approaching Dominator and launched. Moments later the helicopter-tank shattered.
Two more Conquests threw their missiles into the bucket of fish, and knocked out a pair of Rattlers and a Mamba.
"Woo! It's a turkey-shoot for you fighter-jockeys!" cheered Wild Bill.
"Not for long. Behind us. Three Night Ravens, two-o'clock high." Warned Payload.
After searching behind him, Slipstream fired his thrusters, "Confirmed. Bill, get out of here, you're clear. Conquest group, let's get those Ravens out of the area, fast!"
All of the Joes shot forward as fast as they could, but their speed was no match for the Night Ravens. After only a few moments, Flash cried out, "They've got a missile-lock on me!"
"Stay calm, Flash! Epsilon maneuver! Go!"
The squadron of Conquests split in half and dove in different directions straight for the Cobra strike force. The handful of Rattlers, Dominators and Mambas had tightened their spread over the island in order to form up on the Conquest squadron. When the Joes dove right at them, they were totally caught off guard; every Cobra fighter was forced to dodge for its life, sending the sky into chaos. Two Cobras crashed into each other and the Night Ravens had to veer south to avoid harm.
Skillfully avoiding the melee, the Joes circled around, and gained locks on the confused Night Ravens. Moments later, Cobra was down four more planes.
"Excellent work, guys, the Cobras are just about out of low-altitude fighters." praised Slipstream. "The problem is, they've got a heck of a lot of high-altitude ones that are taking notice of us and dropping down to take a shot at us."
"Then I suggest we find the Tomahawk and escort it to safety as soon as possible." Suggested Payload.
"I don't think Cobra is going to let us have it that easy."
"Here come more Night Ravens!" cried Ripcord.
As Slipstream pulled a high-G turn and faced the massive Cobra long-range fighters, one thing kept gnawing at his heart, and it hurt from both sides.
I can't just abandon the Tomahawk, but I have to stop the Night Ravens. I guess there's only one thing I can do.
"Flash! Listen to me and do exactly what I say!"
4.
As he held the M-16 in his hands, Zartan studied its shape, its weight, and its features. It wasn't the first time he had ever held an M-16, but he hoped to God that it would be his last.
Oh, it had style, and maybe a little bit of a heroic look to it, but it didn't have punch, and if a gun didn't have punch, then Zartan didn't want it. An AK-47 had punch. You could trust an old, decrepit AK-47 to do more damage than an M-16 that fell in the sand and got stepped on by a poodle. Actually, belt-fed guns were Zartan's favorite to fire, although they could be a bit tricky. The SAW-Viper's super-rifle was the Dreadnok Leader's new favorite gun. I need to get myself one of those someday.
But, at this point in time Zartan had little choice. The only gun on the hovercraft was this M-16, and the mercenary knew that it was not good character to complain. He left all the whining to Cobra Commander
Regardless of the fire-arm, the day was going perfectly now. The FANGs, although loud enough to drown out any nearby sounds, were pulling the WHALE along and were just about to round the southern tip of the island. The evening was a beautiful dark blue, and the moon was full. But the true beauty of the evening: Zartan was winning. He had all the winning cards. Despite all the brutal battles of the day, he had escaped, atop a Joe vehicle carrying Joe hostages. Nothing could spoil this victory, not even his vulgar henchmen.
Until one of them splashed into the ocean.
"Zartan! There's a Joe attackin' us!" screamed Torch, as he was sent flying through the air and down into the water as well.
The Dreadnok Leader spun around in chest-crackling red rage. "Impossible! The two Joes are locked up in the hold of the hovercraft!" His chest lost its red; the sight before him was one of nightmare for any Cobra agent. "No!"
Snake-Eyes was quickly kicking and punching through the Dreadnoks, sending them all tumbling or flying into the Pacific Ocean. Zarana attempted a tackle but was raised into the air and thrown ten yards overboard. Quivering in confusion and barely able to hold the M-16 rifle upright, Zartan couldn't get a shot off before Snake-Eyes threw a knife threw his hands. The shrieking Dreadnok dropped the gun and fell to his knees. Snake-Eyes stood in front of him, reached down and pulled out the knife.
"B-but how? We-we're on a boat!"
Snake-Eyes pointed over the starboard side, and the Dreadnok leader painfully crawled on all fours over to the edge and slid himself into the sea.
As Zartan popped his head back out of the water, he saw that all of the FANGs had stopped and opened fire on the WHALE. Snake-Eyes was nowhere to be seen.
"Stop you fools!" screamed Zartan. "You'll destroy the hovercraft! That's our only way out of here!" But it was a useless cry. The FANG cannons were too loud. At least they aren't using their missiles.
A new sound of machine-gun fire rattled over the waves, and a FANG started clanging and shattering. The pilot jumped out and the chopper crashed into the water. A couple of the FANGs changed direction and started shooting towards the stern of the WHALE.
Suddenly, a lifeboat equipped with an outboard motor zoomed around the back of the hovercraft and a Joe on it opened fire on another FANG. Soon that helicopter crashed. The boat swung back around the WHALE as the FANGs attempted to chase it, but it was too fast and maneuverable. The machine-gunner kept shooting at Cobra choppers, and was soon joined by submachine gun fire from the bridge of the hovercraft. It was times like these that Zartan hated the small size of the FANG. It was about the only assault helicopter that could be taken down with a submachine gun.
In only minutes, four FANGs were down, and the remaining two turned back towards the WHALE and opened fire. It wasn't hard for Zartan to figure out what they were doing: blasting the chains free of the hovercraft.
"No, you bastards! You can't leave us here!" As soon as the clamps were broken, the FANGs raced off as fast as their propellers would carry them.
The Dreadnoks floated in the water, watching the Joe team load up onto the lifeboat and buzz away to freedom, abandoning their big green sinking monster.
How did the Joes surprise us like that? Didn't anyone see them coming?
"Z-Zartan, Zartan!" wimpered Monkeywrench. "Do we gotta swim all the way back to shore again?"
After swearing to kill every FANG pilot he ever met in the future, Zartan replied, "Start paddling."