CHAPTER 3
Things had been pretty quiet on the international front in regards to the recent Cobra threat. The G.I.Joe team had good reason to believe that they had temporarily thwarted the terrorist group’s plans in Kenya, and there had been no new activity reported elsewhere that could be linked to the elusive King Snake. There were, however, other problems that lingered within the confines of the United States. There had been a noticeable uptick in drug abuse as of late, with the drug of choice once again being heroin. It was really quite a shock, as the heroin epidemic had seemed to be something that was abandoned in the late 80s and early 90s, but drug experimentation is once again on the rise, and the pushers and the users, are both enjoying the type of high that the opiates produce.
The dealers find them to be very lucrative, and if their users are careful, they can continue to enjoy the extraordinary effects from the injections without the risk of death. Fentanyl, another highly addictive opioid derivative, usually prescribed to treat breakthrough pain associated with chemotherapy, chronic pain, and fibromyalgia, has become a huge problem as dealers are now adding it to their cocaine and heroin in order to create a more addictive high. The combination of the recreational and illicit use of heroin has made it a nationwide epidemic. Thousands of people, in all walks of life, are becoming addicted throughout the United States. Abuse and lack of regulation have caused overdoses to be at an all-time high, and something needs to be done to address this rapidly evolving threat. The influx of illegal narcotics flooding the United States has created a daunting task for Homeland Security, the Border Patrol, DEA, and ATF.
I had spent the last six months getting used to being an actual member of the G.I.Joe team. Training to be a Marine was grueling, but it was nothing compared to the vetting process used to become a Joe team operative. Not surprisingly, I passed the physical fitness examination and the psychological assessment, but there was much more that went into being a G.I.Joe. I spent two months of basic training under the tutelage of Beach Head and Sergeant Slaughter. There was much to learn about this covert task force, and I spent numerous hours reading and reviewing things like the history of the team, combat maneuvers, and their silent hand signaling language.
Since we operated mostly off of the radar, members of the Joe team could spend months or possibly even years without seeing friends and family. It was a huge commitment, and one had to be willing to give up everything, and everyone to be a full-time member. Oh, there were reservists, but most of them had already served the team as full-time specialists prior to their current positions. The full-time members of G.I.Joe were still granted leave time, but it wasn’t as regular as in the other branches of the armed forces, and it was not unheard of to be called back for an active assignment while on leave.
Both during and after Joe basic training, I spent a lot of time and energy training my newest companion, a now seventy-five pound, ball of taut muscle and fur, Dangerous, my rescued African cheetah cub. My cheetah cub had grown both in size and intellect. He was capable of understanding two dozen verbal commands as well as, a dozen or so silent hand signals. In addition, I had successfully trained him to recognize his collar or vest as his working clothes, much like a service dog or pony. So once hooked into either, he switched from a playful to a professional demeanor.
Dangerous and I came to meet as a result of him losing his parents to the Dreadnok poacher, a disgusting mange of a man, known as Gnawgahyde. I had prevented the animal trapper from procuring him and most likely selling him on the black market to an illegal zoo or exotic pet collector. He and his overgrown wild boar, Bacon, had murdered the cub’s mother and inadvertently killed his other sibling making him an orphan. Me, being an animal lover, I challenged the grisly man and managed to overpower him. Gnawgahyde reluctantly fled the kill zone and has remained off of the Joe’s radar for the past six months, but eventually, his smelly hide will turn up again, and he will surely be back to his old tricks.
Dangerous has grown up quickly and was no longer the mere cub he had been when I first found him. His diet has progressed from two small cans of cat food daily, into twenty pounds of raw meat a day. He no longer fits in my rucksack but is still very loving and playful. I have since trained him to follow me, attack, retrieve and seek. An easy task if he was a dog, not as easy a task when training a cheetah. Much like a domesticated cat, Dangerous is opinionated and temperamental. He still doesn’t always do what he is asked to do when commanded, but over time, his defiance has lessened and his obedience has grown. Today, he is as loyal to me and the team as a family dog. Other team members have their animal partners, and Dangerous was destined to be mine.
My friendships with the Joe team have also strengthened over the course of this time. I share a special bond with Mainframe and Pathfinder, who were there for me during my captivity in Kenya. Pathfinder has been experiencing migraines more and more frequently since this last undercover assignment and I often worry about his well-being.
Clutch, a gear-head like myself, Footloose and Hollow Point are some of my daily acquaintances, as well as my off-day bar buddies, who join me regularly for wings and karaoke at the Pit Pub. Everyone I have met on the team has been very welcoming to me, but there are still many Joe operatives that I have not yet met. Whenever possible, I take the opportunity to learn whatever my other team members have to offer. Alpine has taught me about rappelling and mountain climbing. Shortfuse has introduced and trained me to use some of the newer, high-tech, laser weaponry. While Outback and Ambush have taught me some very useful extreme survival techniques.
I was slowly building upon my skills and padding my resume to better assist the Joe team on training missions and assignments. I was still a probationary member of the team due to the fact that I had not officially been selected for a specific subteam or operation. This is something I hope will soon change. I would like nothing more than to continue serving Uncle Sam and this great nation of ours as a G.I.Joe specialist.
It was Monday and General Hawk strode confidently down the halls of the Pit with a new visitor. The narcotics officer at his side, easily identifiable by the DEA emblem on the back of his jacket, was a tall, middle-aged African American man. He had been sent by POTUS in order to recruit some of the Joe team in order to populate a new task force aimed at dealing with the growing drug epidemic on the streets of America. We had all been informed of the visitation and that he would be conducting observations of the team over the next few days.
On Thursday, we were all summoned to the briefing room for a mandatory meeting around noon. I was excited because there would be so many other Joes in attendance. The room was abuzz with conversations when General Hawk and our government visitor entered the room and walked across the dais.
“Attention!”
The room immediately came to order and everyone saluted the two ranking soldiers at the front of the room. “At ease G.I.Joes, you may sit.” We all took our seats quickly and turned our attention back to the general and his guest. “I have called you all together today in order to address a very serious threat to the citizens of the United States. This threat does not take the form of Cobra, or terrorist bombings, nuclear warheads, or illegal guns. It is, however, just as real, and possibly deadlier than all those aforementioned.”
As the general spoke, some of the assembled Joe team began to question the purpose of the assembly. Clearly, some of them had not paid attention to the email sent earlier. General Hawk stopped speaking, and all in the room once again became silent.
“Ladies and gentlemen of the G.I.Joe team, I am speaking to you today about drugs and their effect on the unsuspecting, good men and women of this great nation.” The room once again began to stir with conversations. “Alright everyone, settle down.” The general lifted his hands and waited only a few seconds before the attendees once again came to order. “So without further ado, I introduce to you, Major Earl Bulletproof Morris. He is a specialist and a bit of a veteran when it comes to the war on opiates. I ask you to listen to what he has to say and decide accordingly if what he is asking of you is something you can deliver. Major Morris?”
The commanding officer of the Joe team turned to regard the major and stepped back from the microphone. A tall, somewhat unassuming, black man in his mid to late forties stepped forward to take his place in front of the microphone. He was wearing a white shirt with a black tie, a long khaki-colored trench coat, and a pair of black rimmed glasses.
“Thank you, General Hawk, and thank you esteemed members of G.I.Joe for allowing me to speak with you today about this very important matter. Allow me a moment to first give you some information about myself. As General Hawk stated, my name is Major Earl Morris and I grew up on the tough streets of Chicago, Illinois. For the past fifteen years, I’ve been an active member of the U.S. Drug Enforcement Administration and a federal marshal serving in such places as Central America, the Golden Triangle, and the Caribbean. Some of you might remember hearing about ‘Operation Snowcap.’ I was there, and after two years of fighting the war on drugs in Bolivia, Uncle Sam felt obliged to reactivate my status in the reserves. But no matter where the service has taken me, my mission has always been the same: To get illegal drugs off of the streets. To limit the distribution of illicit narcotics available on the black market from everyday pharmaceutical corporations, and to ensure that the victims of drug addiction get the assistance they need in order to get better.”
He paused momentarily to make sure that his message was being heard.
“Lately, my job has become increasingly more difficult as it’s becoming easier and easier for everyday people to become addicts. In addition, the people who are already addicted don’t stand a chance against the dangerous drug cocktails being sold on the streets today. Over 50,000 Americans died from drug-related overdoses last year with new casualties happening every day. My current team just doesn’t have the resources and manpower to effectively fight the good fight. So---that leads me to the reason I am standing here before you today.”
His tone was stern and indicated the gravity of his current situation.
“I am here with the permission and the blessing of the President of the United States to recruit volunteers from the Joe team in order to form a new and improved task force devoted solely to this mission. This team will be granted jurisdiction to operate above and beyond the power of the Coast Guard, Border Patrol, FBI, DEA, and all other established government agencies in order to wage an all-out war on drugs and the organizations that create and supply them. This new team will be referred to as the D.E.F., or Drug Elimination Force!”
He placed added emphasis on every syllable of the new task force’s initials and name.
“Allow me to reiterate once more. This task force will be responsible for apprehending and shutting down the biggest and baddest drug cartels in the world, eliminating the sale of illegal narcotics and prescriptions drugs on the streets, and finally, for getting the victims of opioid addiction the help they need to achieve recovery.”
The tall African American man paused dramatically.
“But---I can’t do this alone. Each of you in this room is a specialist in your own right. I ask you today, who amongst you is willing to take on the challenges of this mission and as a result, aid in eradicating the threat that illegal drugs pose? Who here would be willing to fight the good fight and save countless lives?”
Close to two dozen hands immediately went up indicating their interest. General Hawk scanned the room. He noticed the hands of Tracker, Bombstrike, Cutter, Shipwreck, Mutt, Muskrat, Stretcher and one of the newest recruits, Armed. Each of them could provide the DEF with a plethora of valuable skills
“Excellent! I’m happy to see that so many share in my passion for this important cause. Your commanding officers have been forthcoming in allowing me the privilege of conducting interviews over the next several days, and I relish this opportunity to speak with all interested applicants. However, I must also tell you, that I will not be able to enlist everyone, as the United State’s government has requested that I limit this elite team to only a dozen active members who will then be working in close collaboration with the members of various government agencies. ”
This proclamation elicited some grumbles from amongst the Joe team members, but I was still willing to take my shot at joining this newly formed task force. Nine months had passed since we had foiled Cobra’s latest plot in Africa, and some members of the team had grown antsy for some action.
“Please, I do not wish to upset any of you, but I would be remiss if I led you to believe that all applicants would be accepted, or even worse, that some of you would simply be assigned to this group.”
General Hawk once again stepped forward.
“Simmer down soldiers!” He waited a few moments for the room to be silent. “I will be accepting applications in my office up until 1500 hours tomorrow. After that time, I will personally be reviewing each and every one of them before submitting my recommendations to Major Morris, who will be in charge of selecting the candidates most qualified for an interview. If you are currently an active member of Tiger Force or Night Force, I ask you not to apply unless you are willing to be relegated to reservist status for that team. Are there any questions?” General Hawk once again scanned the room, but there appeared to be no questions. “There are some requirements for submitting your resume. All interested applicants are asked to apply using their actual name, rank, and branch of the military. Please do not include your code name anywhere in your resume or cover letter.”
When the General finished, Bulletproof took the opportunity to address the room once more.
“I thank all of you in advance for your interest and I look forward to meeting with some of you very soon.” He turned back to the general who would have the final words in the room.
“Thank you for your attention. You are dismissed.”
The room promptly saluted and the members of the Joe team began to file out. The general and the major exited together through a side door located at the front of the room.
“I thank you again, General Hawk, for allowing me the opportunity to garner some of the talent found on your team, but, if you don’t mind Sir, I need to excuse myself in order to complete some necessary paperwork and to make a few phone calls.”
The Joe commander nodded in agreement.
“I will have a courier deliver the best applications to you before the end of business tomorrow.” Bulletproof once again thanked the general, then saluted. General Hawk returned the show of respect, then turned on his heels and returned to his private office.
As the 1500 hours deadline approached, the pile of applications reached roughly thirty-seven candidates. General Hawk began the daunting task of narrowing these down to just eighteen. The names on the applications were at times foreign, as General Hawk knew most of the members of his team by their respective codenames. Some of their birth names were unknown to him and some, like the identity of Snake Eyes were classified. Several applicant names stood out as odd or amusing to him: Skip A. Stone, Coastguard. Seriously, is this his real name or is someone playing a trick on me? Stanley Perlmutter? This guy sounds like he could be a dog.
Other names elicited no response from the ranking officer as he simply critiqued their overall qualifications.
Ultimately, Bulletproof would be in charge of making the final decisions. He just needed to put forth his team’s most qualified candidates. By the end of the following day, he felt he had compiled a respectable list. Each of the candidates selected by the general would be sent an official email with specific interview guidelines should they be asked to appear before the committee for an official interview. The email read as follows:
Congratulations! Your application has been selected for further review by the interview committee. Should you be chosen, you are asked to appear in your branch of the military’s dress uniform, not your everyday attire. In addition, please be reminded that you will be called into the interview by your actual name and rank, code names should at no time be disclosed. Thank you for your attention to this matter, and you will receive further notification as it becomes available.
General Hawk wanted the selection process to be free of any bias that code names might create. After sending of the emails, he called for his courier, Lieutenant Melissa Davers, to deliver the parcel of selected resumes to the chief DEF officer. Should the Major wish to narrow down the applicants any further, that would be up to his discretion, and he would ultimately be responsible for notifying his selected applicants with their assigned interview slots.
Around 1900 hours, there was a firm knock at the door of Bulletproof’s quarters. The veteran drug enforcement agent opened the door of his room in order to greet the courier. She was a rather unremarkable individual dressed in standard issue military fatigues. She appeared to be no older than twenty and smiled at the detective as she saluted and announced the nature of the parcel.
“This is a complete list of the General’s hand-selected applicants for the new Drug Elimination Force. General Hawk has made the war room available for interviews on Monday starting at 0800 hours. General Hawk has provided you with the dossiers of eighteen highly qualified candidates. Each of them has already been informed of their consideration for the D.E.F. Please take some time to review their qualifications and resumes and when you are ready, contact me at extension 582 letting me know if you intend to interview all the candidates or only a few. I can then send a follow-up email through the general’s office assigning them a thirty-minute interview window on Monday. If you have any questions or need anything else the general has asked that you contact him immediately. Have a good night sir.”
She handed him the parcel and a personalized business card with her personal contact information. The lieutenant then saluted, turned and walked back down the hallway.
“Well, one thing is definite about the G.I.Joe team. They sure are efficient.” He looked down at the thick parcel in his hands. It was going to be a late night. Earl knew the importance of the team he had been sent to create. The United States military fought wars every day in foreign countries against men and women wielding weapons of mass destruction, but this war was different. This war was taking place much closer to home. The weapons didn’t always involve bullets, but they were no less deadly. He closed and locked his door, walked over to his desk and began to peruse the applications. They had been arranged in alphabetical order for him but did not include any pictures. General Hawk had made no additional notes or marks on their resumes; he had only included one formal note.
Bulletproof read the note aloud.
“After speaking with you over the past few days, I have taken the liberty of narrowing down the list of qualified Joe members to just eighteen candidates from the original thirty-seven applicants. This was by no means an easy task, as each and every applicant possessed many of the characteristics I feel would be of extreme value to the nature of this task force. My personal office referred to as the War Room will be available as early as 0800 hours for interviews on Monday. I look forward to being a part of this process, but ultimately the Joes selected we be your decision to make, and I am confident that whomever you decide upon, will reflect the professionalism and expertise that the G.I.Joe team has come to exemplify.
Sincerely,
General Clayton Abernathy
G.I.Joe Chief Field Commander”
As Major Morris began the overwhelming task of reading through each and every resume in detail, he started to see just what General Hawk meant. Each candidate was just as qualified as the previous one, and he felt that one of the chief deciding factors in the selection process would simply be based on compatibility and overall chemistry. He would need to evaluate the social skills of each individual and their personality in order to determine if they would be able to work with him.
The major knew that he was not an easy individual to get along with. Many partners over the years had asked for transfers, while others had flat out refused to work alongside him, and it wasn’t because he was obnoxious or arrogant. It was because he was a straight shooter and brutally honest about everything and everyone. If you said that you were going to do something and didn’t follow through, Earl would be the first to call you out on it. He was a man who took his job very seriously and expected anyone working with him to do exactly the same thing. His had an impeccable work ethic like few others. Fighting the war on drugs as a cop and later as a federal marshal had hardened him, but instead of making him numb to the casualties of this conflict, he had become more passionate about being on the front lines in order to do everything in his power to prevent it from claiming any additional innocent lives.
As the hours of the night began to wane, he managed to narrow down the list of applicants to only twelve. Not that the resumes of the other six didn’t impress him, but these twelve stood out just slightly more. He opened his email server and contemplated waiting until the morning to send off his selections but instead, he sent off his formal list to the general’s courier. A few moments later, he received an official email confirming receipt of his selections. Each applicant would later receive a second notification with an assigned interview time.
He closed the files, clicked off the desk light, changed his clothes and finally headed to bed. He had made his selections before 2300 hours and as he laid in bed, he began to formulate some of the questions he would be asking them. He reached for his phone and sent a Good night, I love you text to his wife and then attempted to decompress his mind enough to actually sleep.
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