The next month passed quickly and peacefully. Alison had no further run-ins with General Cavanaugh and life at Joe HQ continued on at status quo. The only major change that occurred was the commanders instituted a new on-call system based on block scheduling, meaning they ended up with two or three days off at a time.

The new schedule obviously benefited Flint and Anvil, which gave them more chances to fly to DC. But Flint noticed that both Falcon and Duke took advantage as well and spent more time away from base.

One of Flint's scheduled leave periods happened during the middle of the week in late February. Alison had offered to take the days off when she found out he was coming, but he told her not to. She needed to save as much time as possible for her maternity leave. And even though it cut into the time they spent together, Flint wanted to use the time while she was at work to tackle the last remaining items on the nursery to-do list.

He jumped into the action the minute Alison left for work. He not only picked up the dresser, changing table and curtains the two had picked out, but he called his mother to get her recipe for one of his favorite meals. Flint didn't have a lot of faith in his cooking skills, but he figured if he followed the instructions his mother spelled out for him, he had a shot of making something edible.

It turned out to be perfect timing, because Alison returned home that afternoon with the announcement that she had officially completed her training period, and she had been declared a full-fledged intelligence analyst.

After Flint hugged and congratulated her, she beamed at him. "I don't mean to brag, but Richard said I was the fastest of his trainees to reach IA status."

"That doesn't surprise me in the least."

"Thanks," she said. "I'm glad you never lost faith in me. After everything I went through with General Bradshaw, I was starting to doubt my abilities." She stopped and sniffed the air. "Did you cook?"

"I did. It's my mom's recipe for pot roast and potatoes. I hope I did it justice."

"I'm sure it's going to delicious. Either way, it's a nice change of pace from my usual eat-quick meals, so I really appreciate your effort."

Flint grabbed her hand and led her down the hall. "I wasn't only busy in the kitchen. I finished the nursery."

Alison gasped as she looked into the room. "Dash, it's perfect." She grinned at him. "You are the best house-husband."

He flew back to Arizona two mornings later, in the best frame of mind since they started their separation. Unfortunately, his good mood only lasted until he got back and walked into Anvil's office for an update. Duke and the general were staring at paperwork on the desk with such a look of despair that for a moment, Flint thought he might have missed a national tragedy that occurred while he was flying back.

"What happened?" he asked.

"We just got the preliminary numbers for our next fiscal year budget," Duke answered as he handed him a couple of sheets of paper.

Flint looked down and was shocked by the figure he saw at the bottom of the page. He quickly did the math. "They want to cut our budget by nearly two-thirds?"

"Apparently," Duke answered.

"Who is behind this? General Cavanaugh?"

"No," Anvil replied with a shake of his head. "This is way above his pay grade."

Flint assumed that meant that the budget came from either the president's office, or someone just below him. I thought the new guy in office was going to increase the defense budget?"

"He is. But only for projects that he thinks is worthy. It looks like G.I. Joe is not on that list," Duke said.

"This is crazy. How do they expect us to function with a budget this small?" Flint asked.

"I think that's the point," Duke said with a shake of his head. "They don't expect us to function."

Flint wasn't ready to just give up. "So now what?"

"Duke and I were discussing our game plan. We were debating whether this was a serious recommendation on their parts, or just a ploy to get our attention."

Flint settled back into his chair. "If it is a ploy, it worked."

Falcon entered the room. "No officer's call today?"

"I postponed it," Anvil explained. "I don't want to start a mass panic." He nodded at Flint to hand Falcon the documents.

Once Falcon looked them over he said, "They can't be serious. Please tell me we have a plan to combat this."

Flint too looked at Anvil, since he had asked the same question. The general sighed. "If this is the budget they are submitting, and it gets approved there is very little we can do. But we're a long way from there. Right now I'm going to give General Abernathy a call to see if he has any words of wisdom."

A few minutes later Hawk was on the phone and Anvil put him on speaker so they all could hear him. "Let me guess, you received your copy of the preliminary budget numbers."

"That's an affirmative," Anvil replied. "We're hoping you can put our minds at ease."

Hawk exhaled sharply. "I wish I could. However, the president is adamant about sticking to his campaign promise of cutting taxes, so he came down hard on all of the departments. If it makes you feel any better, the DoD made cuts across the board."

"It doesn't," Anvil answered. "So what do you suggest? I'm not exactly a fan of the 'roll over and play dead' route."

"Good. Because that's the worst thing you could do right now. What I recommend is go over your numbers again. I know you just went through a pretty drastic cut, but there still has to be some fat you can trim. If they see that you are willing to work with you, maybe they'll meet you halfway."

Flint grimaced. Even a budget cut half as bad as what the Jugglers proposed would be extremely painful for the Joe team. Hawk continued, "My second recommendation may be a bit harder to follow through on. The President is all about his image, so any programs that are in the public eye may be spared. Which means if you could nab a terrorist or two on the most wanted list, you could help your standing a great deal."

"Thanks for the help, General Abernathy. We'll be in touch," Anvil said and then hung up the phone. He faced the men in front of him. "Let's not waste any time. I want a full audit of our operating budget, with any and every recommendation on what we can afford to cut back on. Once we have the numbers, I'm going to fly to DC to present it to the Jugglers myself."

Duke and Flint both nodded their reluctant assents, while Falcon shook his head. "Wait a minute. What about Hawk's second suggestion?"

Duke shot his brother a disapproving look. "We've been doing that for months. Unless you came across some intelligence that," Duke trailed off as Falcon smirked at him. "What did you find out?"

"I was going to present this at officer's call this morning. The Dreadnoks have been running amok through Florida the last few days. At first it wasn't big news because they were engaged in mostly misdemeanor, nuisance type acts. But last night they set the warehouse they were staying in on fire. In addition to the city block that ended up burning down, three firefighters suffered injuries fighting the blaze. The governor was on all of the major news stations this morning calling for their heads.

"So while Zartan may not be one of America's most wanted at the moment, I think if we get him and as many of his Dreadnoks off the street, it will help the Joe's image immensely."

Anvil looked from Flint to Duke. Both men nodded. "Falcon, put a team together and get on the road as quickly as possible. With any luck, if you're successful, we won't have to tell the majority of people out there that they are in danger of losing their jobs."

"After not hearing from the team for two days, we finally got a brief message that they were returning to HQ," Flint explained. From the moment Alison answered the phone, she could tell from Flint's excitement level that this was not a standard nightly phone call. She let him continue. "Anvil, Duke and I went up to the tarmac to welcome them back. Duke was annoyed by Falcon's theatrics, but I think in reality he was worried about the kid.

"The Tomahawk landed, and out jumps Falcon looking grim. I know the three of us had the same thought that once again we failed, which is exactly what Falcon wanted us to think. He walked in front of Anvil, saluted and then he breaks into a huge shit-eating grin. 'The Jugglers wanted a Cobra prisoner, they got one,' he said. He nodded towards Gung-Ho, who reached into the cargo hold and threw Zartan out of the Tomahawk and on to the ground."

Alison gasped. "They caught Zartan?"

"Yep, along with Thrasher and Monkeywrench."

Alison had a list of questions, but she focused on the one that was bothering her the most. This was the first she had heard about the mission, which wasn't unusual. But what was odd was that she hadn't learned of the Joes' newest prisoners earlier in the day. "I'm surprised Hawk didn't say anything."

"That's because he doesn't know. We haven't informed DC yet."

"You're keeping this a secret? Why?" Alison asked.

"We wanted some time alone with Zartan before the Jugglers come marching in here to take control."

Alison began to protest. "Dash, you can't do this to me. You shouldn't have told me either. You can't expect me to withhold this kind of news from Hawk."

"I don't. Anvil's going to call the Jugglers within the hour. By the time you get into work tomorrow I'm sure the news will be all over the Pentagon."

Once again Alison felt like she wasn't getting the whole story. "How long has Zartan been a prisoner?"

"Four days," Flint simply said.

Alison smiled. Despite the fact that she was part of the group kept in the dark, she was glad that the Joes held on to their secret as long as they did. "I was wondering why you didn't seem like you wanted to talk the last few days."

"I'm sorry about that. I had a feeling that you wouldn't want to know. So instead of making up stories about my day, I figured it was easier avoiding the conversation as much as possible."

"I understand. I assume Zartan's been treated to the standard Joe interrogation?"

"Oh, no. Since we were limited on time, we upgraded him to the deluxe package. We're throwing everything we've got at him."

"Good. Have you gotten anything useful from him?"

"Unfortunately, no. We've been hitting him hard about giving up Zarana and Zandar, but you know how tight those siblings are. He's willing to wait it out in the hopes that he gets busted out."

"Honestly, with the Joe's history when it comes to prisoners, that's probably not a bad plan"

"I know. That's what worries us. Which is why we broke down this afternoon and decided it was time to alert DC."

The baby kicked a particularly sore spot of her ribs. Alison startled, which caused a stabbing pain in her hip. She tried to muffle her cry, but Flint heard it.

"Are you okay?"

Yeah. Just typical late pregnancy pains."

"Contractions?" Flint asked with concern.

"No, I think it's sciatica," she said as she rubbed at her hip.

"That doesn't sound good."

"It's not that bad. Lydia said it should go away after she's born."

Flint scoffed. "Remind me what medical school she attended?"

"Since she's been through this three times, I trust her judgement more than the guy who sees me for two minutes every other week."

"That may be, but I'd still feel better if you got a professional opinion."

Alison walked into the kitchen to look at her calendar. "My next appointment is Tuesday, so I'll ask him then. I assume based on your news, you're not going to be able to come for a visit any time soon?"

"Unfortunately, yes. All leave has been canceled for the time being. If the Dreadnoks do decide to try and break out Zartan, we do not want to be short-handed."

"That's understandable." Alison continued to stare at the calendar. "I start childbirth classes on Thursday. It's a four-week program, so maybe you can make one of the dates."

"I'll do my best. Did you find a stand-in for me?"

"Yes, Wayne."

Flint went silent. "Seriously?"

Alison let out a laugh. "No, I'm kidding. I did ask him, and of course he looked at me like I went mad. Lydia is going to be my partner."

"I'm glad you two have hit it off so well."

"Me too. There are times that I feel like I'm bothering her, but she insists I'm not. She said she and Stalker revisited the idea of having another baby once he got the orders to move here. They decided not to, and even though she's accepted that idea, she likes reliving the experience through me. Personally, I can't imagine doing this a second time, nevermind three or four."

"Are you trying to tell me I'm not going to get the Faireborn basketball team I've always dreamed of?"

Alison laughed. "If you're serious I hope you have another wife or two lined up for that job."

Flint too laughed. But then a buzzing noise in the background interrupted him. "I'm sorry, Al, but I have to go."

"Okay. I'll talk to you soon. Love you."

Alison hung up the phone. She turned her attention back to the calendar and flipped the page so she could once again look at the red circle around the date April 30th. As usual, she was hit with a mixture of excitement and dread. As if sensing her thoughts, the baby started moving around. She rubbed at her stomach. "I hope that's not your way of letting me you know you're planning on coming out soon. As much as I would like my body back, I'd also like you to stay in there a little longer."

She walked into the nursery. Since Flint had installed the dresser, she had made a few shopping trips to begin to fill the drawers. She tried to not become one of those mother-to-be that bought dozens of outfits and items that would probably never be used. But every night after work she had a habit of looking around the room and coming up with a list of things she thought she still needed.

On top of the dresser was a pack of onesies. She opened them and held one out in front of her. It was so tiny. She began to imagine trying to put it on her daughter, and a new wave of nervousness overcame her. She had finally confessed to Lydia the past weekend about the near panic attacks she was having whenever she thought about life with a newborn. Lydia assured her that her feelings were natural, but Alison couldn't help but be skeptical of her mothering skills.

It didn't help that most nights she had a parenting nightmare. The first one Alison remembered having was taking the baby into the woods, and then somehow misplacing her. The latest one was the previous night. She was in a small downtown area, watching a parade. One of the floats stopped in front of her, and Cobra Commander had jumped down. Before she could stop him, the Commander had grabbed the stroller and disappeared.

She had woken up in a cold sweat, and tossed and turned the rest of the night until her alarm went off. Since she was still tired from her sleepless night, she decided an early bedtime would help her mindset. Nothing could be gained from dwelling on her fears. She gave one last look at the nursery before she turned out the light.