Chapter III

After formulating a plan on how to secure the Blue Flag, Master Chief and Donut made their way to the Blue Base in a daring attempt to take Private Caboose hostage . . .

Master Chief and Private Donut silently crept into the base. The pitch black of night and the torrential downpour masked their approach, and would keep them inaudible during their hunt for Caboose. Master Chief put his back to the wall and peeked around the corner, and saw that there were no hostiles. The Chief waved his hand forward and waited for Donut to take up a position in the room. After ten seconds of inaction, the Chief looked back and saw Donut, staring at him.

"What are you doing?" the Chief whispered annoyed.

"I'm waiting for you to move," Donut replied in a similar hushed tone.

"When I make this motion," the Chief repeated the hand signal, "you're supposed to go into the next room and secure a position."

"Why me?" Donut asked. "You're the one with the guns! All I have is a can of red paint and a brush. What am I supposed to do if I see someone, paint them to death?"

The Chief lowered his head. Although Donut was clearly disobeying a direct order from a superior, he did present a good point. The Master Chief silently moved into the main room. There were no roofs covering the central areas of either base, so rain water freely poured into the base. Fortunately, whoever designed the outposts were at least semi-intelligent; the floor of the middle level was slanted towards the hole, so the rain water didn't build up. The Chief glanced over his shoulder and saw Donut staring at a wall.

"Donut," he whispered. "What are you doing?"

"I found out where Caboose is," Donut said. "Here, look."

The Chief came up next to Donut and saw that there was a note on the wall:

Caboose, I know that I already asked you a thousand times, but I think you will probably listen to a piece of paper better than you listen to other people. Please, stay out of our rooms. Mine in particular. I hope you'll read this, since it is right outside of your room. You can't be that dumb.

P.S. Tucker, keep that damned alien baby on a leash or something. It keeps messing with my sniper rifle.

The two soldiers looked at each other, then at the door that was directly behind them. It was already ajar, so they quietly entered the room. The quarters were filthy. Candy wrappers littered the floor; coloring books and crayons were strewn across a table and a standard issue SMG was propped against the far wall. Laying in a cot with a Hello Kitty blanket draped over him slept Private Caboose.

"There's the target. Begin with the paint job, Donut. I'll keep watch," ordered the Chief.

"Okey dokey, sir," Donut responded.

Donut carefully removed the blanket off of Caboose and began to paint his standard issue blue armor standard issue red. The whole front side was finished in a matter of minutes and was also masterfully done.

"How did you do that so quickly," inquired the Chief.

"From fingernails to armor, if you need something painted pretty and pronto, I'm your Private," Donut replied happily. "Now I need to get him turned over so I can paint his back."

Suddenly, Caboose began to stir in his sleep. The Chief raised his Battle Rifle at Caboose as a precaution. Caboose sat up in his bed and looked at Donut.

"W-who are . . . oh my God! Colonel McMuffin! You came back!" Caboose shouted with glee. A loud thunder clap echoed across the canyon and through the base, saving them from an unwanted blown cover.

Donut said nothing, but looked to the Chief for help. Donut could do nothing in his current situation, so the Chief had to think fast. Then he had an idea; possibly better than Grif's idea. The Chief lowered his rifle, walked over to Caboose and knelt by his side.

"Gamma twelve, I am the Master Chief. Do you remember me?" the Chief asked.

"Who's Gamma twelve?" Caboose asked.

"Darn, the amnesia serum must still be active," Master Chief said "Medic Donut, please go bring the transport to the front of the base. We need to extract Gamma twelve immediately." The Chief then opened a private channel to Donut. "I'll explain everything later, Donut. Just play along for now."

"Uh, ok. Whatever you say," Donut answered. He was unsure what the Chief had up his gauntlet, but he knew it must be good. Donut ran out of the base to get the warthog.

"Gamma twelve, you are a Red Army Special Operative. You were sent to Blood Gulch Outpost Alpha at the start of the war to gather Intel on the Blues. Do you remember any of this?" the Chief asked.

". . . who are you again?" Caboose asked.

"Damnit, Caboose, think! Remember when you blew up your superior officer with the M808B Main Battle Tank?"

"Yeah, good times . . . good times. I miss Sheila."

"That was a mission that you successfully carried out. In fact, since then, you have gone on to become a legend in the Spec Ops task force!"

"I have?"

"Yes! You managed to temporarily disable the droid that your superior's ghost inhabited. When he left the droid's body, it was able to reprogram its secure files and weapon programs with a series of new firewalls and passwords. You saved us a lot of trouble there, and there was the time you-" the Chief was cut off by a radio transmission from Donut.

"I have the warthog in front of the base, sir. I'm ready to go," Donut announced.

"Excellent. We'll be out shortly," the Chief responded. He put his hand on Caboose's shoulder. "I'll fill you in on all the details later, but the Blues have discovered your real status, and they're sending an assassin to take you out as we speak. We need to get you back to Red Base, where you'll be safe."

Caboose looked down at his hands and saw that they were red. He was surprised by the color change and looked at the rest of his armor. From what he could see, it was now red.

"Your camouflage has been deactivated since you are no longer required to spy on the Blues," the Chief explained. "Come on, Caboose, we need to go."

Caboose, who was deep in thought, got up, retrieved his gun, and followed the Chief back into the main room. If anything, the storm had intensified in the last half hour. The winds were reaching speeds of sixty miles per hour. Lightning strikes pounded into the ground, blowing rocks and dirt in all directions. Thunder roared like an angry beast over head and shook the whole canyon. The Blue Flag was flapping wildly in the wind.

"I need you to grab the flag, Gamma twelve. Since you were registered as a Blue soldier, you're the only one who can take it," the Chief said.

Caboose silently complied and took the flag from its base. The Chief nodded and the two began to make their way out of the base. Then Simmons came on over the radio, his tone urgent.

"Master Chief? Sir, I have a visual. There is a target enclosing on your position. Hurry up in there."

"Roger that, Simmons. I'm extracting Caboose and the Flag now. Over."

The Chief rounded a corner, and came face to face with a black armored Spartan holding a shotgun.

"End of the line, big boy," Tex said triumphantly.

Master Chief turned to Caboose.

"Caboose . . . run,"

To Be Continued