Chapter 2 Armed and Dangerous

Chapter 2

I could hear the emergency sirens for only a few more minutes before the enemy subsequently shut them down.  No one had foreseen this attack, and there were no reinforcements were on the horizon.  How did this happen?  Was it my fault?  How did Private Ruiz, or anyone else for that matter, not see the signs before me?  There were too many questions and now was not the time to pass blame on anyone.  I was in hostile territory and the longer it took me to reach my destination, the more likely that my fellow Marines would suffer, or worse…. possibly die.  I needed to keep myself hidden from enemy eyes if I was going to succeed.  After crawling on my belly for nearly a mile and a half, I decided it was finally safe for me to stand up.  The surrounding savanna was a disaster.  Dead or dying animals littered the grassy expanse.  Various birds of prey were already gorging themselves on the spoils of our scourge.  It was then that I saw the true horror of it all.  Many of the fallen animals had been skinned or worse.  A majestic white rhino appeared to have been plundered solely for its horn.  Several zebras were skinned of their striped hides. It was all so terrible and my stomach turned at the sheer horror of it all.  As disgusted as I was feeling, I continued on with my quest moving closer and closer to my intended destination.  Within minutes, I began to see the outline of the communication tower's antenna as it started to poke up on the nearby horizon. 

It was then that I saw him out of the corner of my ear.  He was a dirty and unkempt visage of a man sporting a rather unruly mustache and goatee. He wore a spotted, sleeveless cheetah vest, a broad-rimmed, yellow safari hat and was carrying a machete in his right hand with a longbow slung over his left shoulder.  I actually felt like I smelled him before I saw him.  He was bent over the body of what appeared to be a cheetah and was stuffing two cheetah cubs into a brown gunny sack.  At his side was a rather large and brutish looking warthog with a nose ring, tattoo and pierced ear. 

I was almost immediately enraged and found myself yelling in his direction. "Hey! Get away from those animals!"  It took a moment for him to look up from the task at hand to acknowledge me. 

“And who are you that’s gonna be makin me,” he snarled in reply.  

"I’m a Marine and you, are in violation of more than a few international wildlife conservation laws!"  

What was I doing?  I needed to get to the communications tower and radio for help, but I couldn’t ignore this terrible poacher.  

“Laws? Bahhh! Alright mate, I reckon you’re looking to start a fight with old Gnawgahyde then?”   

I reached for my handgun as quickly as possible.  Imagine my dismay when I could not locate it. Much to my chagrin, it must have slipped out of its holster during my mile-long crawl. I was mortified, and I had no time to waste, as the despicable man came upon me slashing fiercely and wildly with his machete.  It was a good thing that I had actually studied some Jiu-Jitsu in my early teens, as it would not be uncommon for someone to lose their head or hands to this type of weapon. I quickly tore off my rucksack and created a shield between the two of us.  As his machete dipped down to the ground past my pack, I released my right hand and clocked the poacher in the jaw as hard as I could.  The blow stunned him long enough for me to then kick the machete out of his hands.

“Oh, the wee lad has got him some spunk eh? I like that in me opponents!” he teased through gnarled teeth.  

"I’ve got a little more than some spunk!"  With that response, I turned around and unloaded a combination of left and right roundhouse punches followed up with two fast uppercuts.  He began to fall backward and before he hit the ground, he sharply whistled. As I attempted to move in closer to apprehend him, I had only a split second to respond to the three hundred pound warthog that was now barreling towards me. 

“Go on an git him, ehhh Bacon!” he commanded as he clumsily staggered into the taller grass.  I quickly grabbed my bowie knife to stab at the enraged beast and narrowly missed losing part of my arm as it clambered past me.  

The creature turned on its heels and made a final attempt at bowling me over when my knife connected solidly with its thick hide.  It squealed in pain and I noticed a crimson trail of blood as it promptly ran off in the direction its owner had staggered.  I took a deep breath, steadied myself and surveyed the area looking for any signs of movement in the tall grass, any indication that the horrible killer was still about,  but I could find no sign of Gnawgahyde or his plus-sized pork chop. 

Well, that’s something that doesn’t happen every day.  How many people can say they survived an attack by a wild boar and a deranged poacher wielding a machete?  I walked cautiously off in the original direction that I had first taken notice of him. I wanted... no, I needed to check in the bag he had clearly dropped prior to our altercation.

As I got closer to the area my brain began to process the scene. In the grass lay the mother cheetah, clearly she had died as a result of a well-placed arrow and some menacing bite marks.  No doubt a result of that overgrown ham sandwich.  I felt terrible.  How could anyone do this to such a beautiful and majestic animal?  Then I saw the rucksack.  It was oddly still.  I felt a pit deep in my stomach as I forced myself to open it and peer inside.  Part of me really didn’t want to, as I was expecting the worse for the cheetah cubs that had been tossed inside not so long ago.  I repositioned the bag on the ground and slowly pulled back the edges.  One cub didn’t move at all despite my prodding, but the second one was clearly alive and well.  As I gestured to pick him up, he growled and attempted to bite me.  

"Well, aren’t you just a dangerous little kitty?"  I teased him a bit as I held out my hand a bit closer.  He sniffed it, pawed at me, and finally allowed me to pick him up.  "O.K., little buddy.  What shall we do with you?  I can’t very well leave you here.  Sadly, your mommy is not coming back, and your brother or sister is...well... gone."

 I fought hard to hold back the tears in my eyes.  I felt angered and pained by both the mother’s murder and the orphaned cubs.  "

So. . . I guess you’re coming with me."

I scooped up my fallen knapsack and made some room for him inside by removing my shovel and some other non-essential items.  I offered the cub some of my dried officer rations which he reluctantly ate. I then proceeded to dig a hole in order to bury his mom and sibling.  No one’s coming back to steal their hides! This much I can ensure.  I said a few words imploring upon the higher power to grant them eternal life and peace. Oddly enough, I felt myself attempting to channel their spirit energy as I had witnessed Hidalgo doing on more than one occasion.  It was, in a way, very calming as it helped to quell the anger the poacher had instilled in me.

"So..What am I going to call you?"

 The little cub had clearly put on a spirited display.  Proving that one day he or she would be a formidable foe.  "How about Dangerous?"  The cheetah cub cocked its head to one side and purred at the name.  "Alright then, Dangerous is it!  And together people can call us Armed and Dangerous.  I like it!  It’s got a good ring to it and I feel it definitely suits us."  I then scooped up my backpack, cheetah inside, and headed back in the direction of the radio antenna.

I made quick work of the remaining two miles to the communication station.  But when I finally did get there, things only got worse.  Apparently, Cobra or Gnawgahyde had gotten there before me.  The place had been trashed.  It would easily take me several hours to put together anything that would even remotely resemble a communicator, and there was no guarantee that it would even work.

“Hey! Hold it right there soldier.  Name, rank and serial number!” I turned in the direction from which the order was given regarding a fellow Marine. However, he was not one I recognized.  I quickly saluted and responded. "Private First Class Kordos 131 446 23334 United States Marine Corps Sir!"

  “At ease soldier! The name’s Mainframe and I’m with the G.I.Joe team, but first and foremost I’m a Marine. OoRah!”   

"OoRah!" I quickly responded to his proclamation, but I couldn’t believe it.  A member of the G.I.Joe elite force was actually here in my midst? And he was a Marine? There was no way he could possibly turn down helping me to rescue the rest of my platoon.

“How much do you know about comms soldier?”  I mulled it over for a bit.  Computers and radio waves really weren’t my thing.  The closest experience I had to splice together a radio system was installing a car stereo.  As a teenager with more than one old car, I had had quite a bit of experience there. So.. How hard could it really be?  Black to black, red to red, check for power and ground, etc.

I cleared my mind, refocused, and responded shortly afterward.  "Not much, but I’m a quick study, sir!"

“Stop calling me sir!  We’re on the same team.  I need you to trace back those wires in that wall and try to splice together as many as possible.  I also need to verify that we still have power.”   

I did as I was asked.  Surprisingly, I was able to find some unused butt end connectors and electrical tape amongst the debris.  From there I got to splicing and taping.  I left my backpack on not wanting to draw any attention to my furry, new friend inside.  And he seemed calm and quiet as long as he could feel my warm body under and against him. 

“So do you have a handle?” Mainframe asked.  

"A what?"

  “A moniker? A code name soldier?  Doesn’t the Marine Corps do that anymore?”  

"I think that’s more of an Air Force thing Mainframe."

“Nonsense, you need a code name pronto!”   

My mind immediately turned to the cheetah in my backpack and the conversation we had had just a little while ago. 

"Fine! I go by Armed."

“Armed? That’s a strange code name soldier.” 

"And Dangerous," as I slipped off and unzipped my backpack to expose the baby cheetah inside.  

“That’s’ an interesting companion you have there but OK…... Armed and Dangerous it is. So tell me, soldier, what did you see out there?”

I thought back to my morning and recounted to seeing the plumes of dark smoke on the horizon.  I guess you can say it’s been a crazy sort of day.  

“Welcome to combat. Things can get really crazy, pretty fast out there.” 

"Agreed. Well, it started off with what looked like a wildfire and a stampede of animals.  I remember sounding the alarm as a precaution.  Then the soldiers in blue appeared riding ATVs.  A short while later, the blue A-10s appeared overhead and started dropping bombs on us."

“Wait; did you say soldiers in blue?”  

"Yeah, and their faces were covered by black scarves or bandanas.  They also had some really weird weapons.  My brothers at arms were able to stave off the initial wave, but once the incendiaries started exploding, everything went to pot.  My teammate Hollow Point was picking some of them off with his sniper rifle before my tower came crashing down.  I initially panicked, but when we saw the enemy storming the gates, my CO said I needed to get away and find reinforcements. So, I crept through the tall savanna grass for the first mile or so.  That’s where I found the dismembered animals and ran into the poacher.  He called himself, gnaw and hide."

  “Do you mean Gnawgahyde? Grungy and smelly looking guy with a giant hog as a pet?” 

"Yeah, that’s him."

“Interesting, so Cobra is definitely in the area.  I wonder if the presence of Gnawgahyde means Zartan and the Dreadnoks are nearby as well, or if it’s just a coincidence.”  

"Whoa! Slow down. Cobra?  Dreadnoks?  How is it that I am a Marine and have never heard of either of these factions?"

  “Well, that’s just it.  Usually, Cobra and the Dreadnoks operate more covertly.  Cobra is known to have a localized presence in Europe and the Dreadnoks have been more of an Australian faction. The fact that they are operating so openly means that Cobra Commander is stepping up his game.  We seriously need to get these comms working so I can report back to Duke, General Hawk and the rest of the team.” 

With that, we resumed our cutting and splicing, but only after we had secured the entrance from unwanted visitors.  It was a slow go at first, but in about an hour we had a functioning radio. The question now was: Would anyone hear us?

“Armistice 22, Armistice 22.  Does anyone read me?”  Nothing. Just radio static.  Mainframe began to sift through the available bandwidths, but they all picked up nothing.  “We need to check the wiring to the antenna.” Mainframe instructed as he continued to switch through the available channels.  I began to follow the antenna wire up through the wall as it disappeared into a conduction tube.  
"I don’t see anything out of the ordinary inside Mainframe.  It’s quite possible the link is severed topside.  One of us needs to go up on the roof to check it out.  It should probably be me since I don’t know the proper radio code."
 “Yeah, and I’m really not that much of a fighter if we encounter hostiles.” I nodded in agreement. As I un-barricaded the entrance, I remembered another experience from my childhood. 

I was roughly sixteen years old when my friend Keith and I decided to go and investigate an abandoned factory.   It was really cool.  Outside there was a small fenced-in area topped with barbed-wire that housed an old railroad oil tanker car.  The rusted, old tanker car’s paint was still mostly black and loomed menacingly at us from just behind the fence.  We decided that we wanted to take a closer look.  So we used the knowledge we had gained from watching television to clear the barbed wire and get safely to the other side.  It was kind of simple.  All we did was throw our denim jackets over the barbed-wire and then up and over we went.  We thought we were so cool, even though the whole time we kept watching for police cars.  We definitely didn’t want to get charged with trespassing.  There were signs all over the fence saying: Do Not Enter, No trespassing, Area Under Surveillance.  We simply laughed it off.  We knew the security cameras hadn’t worked in years. It was evidenced by the one on the building wall that had been knocked off and only hanging on by a wire. We climbed up on the tank car using the wrought iron ladders and balanced on the catwalks.  We felt like we were on top of the world.

 Shortly after, we rescaled the fence, cleared the barbed wire a second time, and retrieved our coats.  What an adrenaline rush it was! It was too bad cell phone cameras didn’t exist at the time, because it would have made for some awesome selfies.

  Then we ventured inside the abandoned factory by way of a partially open side door.  It was so eerie and quiet.  I swear we thought we saw ghosts in there.  It was so weird.  It was like time had literally stopped. It reminded us of the story of Chernobyl in Russia where houses were left with full course dinners still set on the tables. Everything that had been used by the employees was still in there: desks, phones, file folders, even a functional forklift in the loading bay.  The electricity still worked even though most of the lighting had been damaged and many of the bulbs shattered. There was even an old clock radio that could be seen still flashing 12 o ‘clock over and over again.  We explored every room of that abandoned factory looking for things we could possibly pawn, and we went there several more times after that in the future.  Not realizing that every time we could very easily have been walking into a trap containing dangerous vagrants or possibly rabid and wild animals.  Hell! We didn’t care.  We were sixteen and invincible!

I called upon some of that innate sixteen-year-old adrenaline now to force myself outside the communication tower.  I immediately scanned the horizon for hostiles.  It seemed clear and I began the scale the outside ladder to the top.  I was nearing the roof when I heard then spotted the blades of a helicopter off on the horizon.  I immediately looked for a place to conceal myself not knowing if it was friendly or hostile.  Too late! The helicopter seemed to turn almost immediately and headed in my direction. Damn! I needed to get to the top and check the antenna connection.  I had to move fast otherwise the chopper would have enough time to circle back here and possibly wipe me out.  I could hear the chopper blades beginning to get louder in the distance.  I finally made it to the flat roof and I could then clearly see the problem.  The wire connection had been clearly severed from the base of the antenna.  I pulled out my knife in order to pull up the fasteners holding down the remains of the antenna wire in order to reattach it.

  The perspiration began beading up on my brow as the mystery chopper continued getting closer.  The first few fasteners came up easily and allowed me to gain some much needed slack.  My hands shook as I frantically tried to reconnect the wire; the whole time I could hear the inbound chopper.  Too late!  The smattering of bullets off the tin roof was my first warning that the chopper indeed was not friendly.  Luckily, I wasn’t hit.  The chopper cut a wide left and would take a couple more minutes to make the full turn and return to shower me in another round of bullets.  I moved even faster and was able to pull the wire the extra foot needed to reach the base of the antenna.  I just managed to attach the wire as the second volley of bullets rained down upon me.

I quickly rolled back towards the direction of the roof ledge and threw myself over.  I caught the railing of the ladder halfway down and saved myself from the complete devastation of the fall.  I could feel that my left shoulder was quite possibly out of its socket, but I needed to get back inside and let Mainframe know to send the distress call again.  I gritted my teeth, descended the last several feet to the ground, and cleared the doorway just as the third round of bullets pelleted the side of the building.               "Mainframe!  Try the call again!  We’ve got company."
“I’m on it!  Armistice 22!  Does anyone read me?”  
“Armistice 22 this is Crow’s Nest 13, what’s your 20?”  
“I’m stationed at Lat: 1°16′59″ S Long: 36°49′00″ E and we’ve got Cobra hostiles.  I repeat we’ve got incoming Cobra hostiles!”  
“Armistice 22, we are sending reinforcements as you speak.  LT is inbound with a Tomahawk ready for extraction and to lay down cover fire.  Hold tight! Over.”  
"How long before they get here?"
 “Listen for the sound of heavy thunder and you’ll know the answer.  In the meantime, I found us some rifles with ammunition to take care of that pesky Cobra F.A.N.G.”  
I quickly reached for the rifle from Mainframe’s extended hand and we secured the door.  Mainframe suggested we slide out the bottom floor window and avoid the front door completely as soon as we heard the incoming blades of the Tomahawk. 

The fourth volley of bullets peppered the outside of the building and we hid firmly behind a sturdy desk and file cabinet.  Then we heard it.  A definite Whoop! Whoop! Whoop! The much anticipated and welcome sound of the approaching Tomahawk’s blades was accompanied by the sounds of machine gun fire.  We slide out the back window just in time to see a trail of thick, black smoke billowing out of the Cobra F.A.N.G. as it began tail spinning to the ground under a barrage of G.I.Joe bullets.  The pilot promptly ejected and pulled the chord on his parachute. We watched as he defiantly continued firing upon our rescue ride with his handgun during his descent.  Our victory seemed short-lived as we heard the sounds of new cannon fire from close by. 

The Tomahawk threw us down a rope ladder and Mainframe and I were quick to grab on.  The winch carried us upwards into the safety of the chopper, but for a few moments, I still feared for my life as the enemy’s artillery began to roll in closer around us.  There were odd looking black tanks and a couple of smaller blue six-wheeled vehicles that resembled miniature dual Scud missile launchers.  Luckily, those vehicles did not have enough time to lock onto our position and fire.  The Tomahawk was out of the area almost as quickly as it appeared, and several F-14 Tomcats streaked past us, lighting up the enemy ground troops below.   The sounds of enemy shots turned into screams of agony as more than one of the modified surface to air missiles scored direct hits.  The skirmish was over as quickly as it started as Mainframe and I was being whisked away from the battle.

I was greeted with the thumbs up sign from the helicopter’s pilot, Lift Ticket. There were also two other crew members who had helped me into the chopper.  One was wearing camouflage fatigues, a green shirt, and a green ski mask.  The other wore a bright red and white suit and resembled more of a medic than a soldier. It was extremely loud on board, but I knew I needed to strap myself in and hold on.  The flight back took us over the savanna and into a more remote almost desert area where we began to descend.  I peered out the side of the Tomahawk expecting to see a landing pad but saw none.  As we continued our descent, the ground below began to move as a platform rose up from the sand and a large hatch opened.  This provided the helicopter with a secret place to touch down.   
Upon landing, we exited the chopper as the dual blades slowed to a gradual halt.  Mainframe led me with the other crew members to a side door.  Upon walking through, I was frisked, my gear was immediately taken from me, and the soldier with the green face mask leveled his gun at me. 

“Sorry soldier got to follow protocol!” the soldier in green barked at me.  
“At ease Beach Head, he’s a friend!  If it wasn’t for his valor and determination, I might not have been able to even contact you,” came Mainframe’s defense.  
“We can’t always be so sure! What outfit are you with soldier and be quick about it!”  
"The Marine Corps Sir!" But as I began to rattle off my name, rank and serial number he waved me off."
“At ease Private First Class.  Why didn’t you say he was a fellow brother in blue?”  Mainframe could only shrug as Beach Head lowered his weapon.  They handed me back my equipment and I immediately checked on the safety of Dangerous.  The cheetah cub was still happily curled up inside my backpack showing little signs of distress.

I was relieved and as we began walking, they started to ask me about how I had come to assist Mainframe. It was then that I remembered my original mission.  I needed G.I.Joe to come back with me to save Hidalgo, Hollow Point and the rest of my unit.  As I began to recount the details of the attack, I could already see the wheels of a plan beginning to develop on the faces of my new found friends and allies.  I felt confident that the Joes would not hesitate in helping me to save my friends.