Chapter 3
It didn’t take long for Gnawgahyde and Bacon to find their way back to their makeshift hideout and ham radio. “Gnawgahyde calling Z leader. Come in Z leader.” At first there was little more than static at the end of the line.
“Yes, what is it you, filthy poacher? I told you never to contact me on this frequency!”
“Well, blimey Zartan! I wouldn’t be calling you if there wasn’t a cause for concern. I believe G.I.Joe is in the area and good ole CC needs to be made aware. I figured it could benefit both you and the Dreadnoks if we were the ones giving him the information.”
The Dreadnok leader’s voice clearly changed after the receipt of the initial message registered.
“Well, I can definitely see the value of this intel. What else can you tell me?”
“Well, it seems there is a Joe presence nearby because I just watched them rescue that info geek Mainframe and some new recruit from the transmission tower the commander had me trash the other day.”
“Very good Gnawgahyde, keep a lookout and report back if you find out any new information immediately. Oh! And in the meantime, I also need you to cut back on the poaching. No need drawing any unwanted attention that could possibly lead back to me. Zartan Out!”
The gnarly, old poacher scratched his grisly beard and scoffed at the last request, but knew that he could benefit more from keeping his ties to the rogue Dreadnok nation than being out on his own. He would cut back on the poaching. ..at least for now. “Come along Bacon, we’ve got some investigating to do.”
. . . . .
Back at the Pit, the Joes were busy planning a rescue mission for my Marine Corps brothers. Mainframe and I were going to make sure everybody came home and that Cobra would be brought to justice for their atrocities. Beach Head had contacted General Hawk to brief him about the attack on the Marine base and the presence of the Dreadnok poacher, Gnawgahyde. He also needed to make them aware of the ground forces we had encountered near the communication outpost. I found out at this time that the artillery units were called H.I.S.S. tanks, which stood for high-speed sentries and the missile launchers were called Adders. These in addition to the F.A.N.G. choppers, fully armed negator gyrocopters, showed me just how much Cobra enjoyed using snake references to name their artillery and vehicles.
“General Hawk has given us permission to move out and rescue your Marine brothers as soon as Flint gets here. That one is as tough as nails and will be able to put together a plan that will safely accomplish our mission. He is scheduled to be here within a day and then we can start to put our rescue plan into action.”
Mainframe led me into another room that turned out to be a munitions locker. He instructed me to take some time to handle the different weapons. Then said I should only decide upon what I could easily carry and handle. The walls were adorned with various assault rifles and handguns. Some were the standard military issue while others seemed quite futuristic. As I examined the different pistols, he explained to me the benefits of some and the downsides of others. After nearly an hour in this room, my backpack erupted in a rather disturbing yodel. The young cheetah was clearly hungry and no longer wanted to be confined to his current quarters. Mainframe suggested that we find a place for my new found friend, Dangerous, to chill out and be fed.
The cheetah cub was young, but luckily not in need of bottle feeding. Surprisingly, G.I.Joe has everything, including cat food. Mainframe was quick to inform me that animal companions were not uncommon to the Joe team. Now I was really intrigued. This was much better than I could have ever expected. After setting up Dangerous in a place where he would be comfortable, Mainframe instructed me that he would return in about an hour to continue my tour of the facility. This gave me an opportunity to further bond with my fine, furry friend. I opened some of the cabinets and found some various brands of cat and dog food. Surprisingly, I also found birdseed and crackers which were labeled with the word, “Polly.” I smirked for a second at the sheer simplicity of it “Polly want a cracker?” but gave it no further thought as I filled an empty bowl with a fresh can of chicken and liver stew. Dangerous loved it and completely devoured it within two minutes then looked at me as if to say, "can I have some more?" I soon caved and emptied a second can which he also graciously devoured. I can see the effects of today have done little to dull your appetite. The cheetah kitten simply purred.
Mainframe returned a short while later to inform me that Flint and the others had been held up and would most likely be arriving later than expected the next day. And whether I chose to acknowledge it or not, it had been a rather long and action-packed day. In fact what I didn’t realize due to being underground, was that it was already after 2130 hours.
“I think it might be best if you grab some sustenance and then I can show you to your quarters. We won’t be attacking Cobra tonight and it would be best to recharge yourself for the next few days.”
I couldn’t agree more and wished Dangerous a good night. My new Marine friend led me down a hallway and showed me the mess hall and a room where I could bunk for the night. I thanked him for everything and asked when to expect his continued tour of the base tomorrow.
“I’ll fetch you for breakfast at 0700 hours and we’ll go from there.”
That night I couldn’t sleep. I kept thinking about the events that had transpired that day. I could see the A-10s dropping their bombs, the poacher slaughtering the animals, and the Cobra chopper firing upon me at the communication tower. I tossed and turned for about two hours of the night, but eventually used some of Hidalgo’s meditation techniques to calm my troubled mind.
The next morning I took a refreshing shower, dressed and beat Mainframe to the mess hall. We had some small talk about our early days in the corps and he told me how his expertise in all things computers had caught the attention of the Joe team’s higher-ups. He had been on the active roster for about three years and said it was better than anything he had ever done as simply a Marine. I held onto his every word and simply nodded not wanting to show just how interested I was in becoming a Joe team specialist, but I guess it could still be seen on my face.
“Hey, I’m going to make sure that you’re included on this rescue mission and when we’re all home safe and sound I’m going to put in a good word for you with Duke and the others. You have something special about you kid, and the way you worked with that abandoned cheetah cub, I’m sure you have some other hidden talents to offer the Joe team.”
As Mainframe continued to compliment my actions on the battlefield, I found myself needing to tend to Dangerous. I thanked him for all his kind words and asked if he would accompany me to care for the cub before we continued the tour of the Pit. He was more than happy to comply. We entered the cheetah’s room and I was welcomed by a loud chirp followed by purring. I promptly doled out two small cans of cat food and a fresh bowl of water for my fuzzy friend. I then opened the latch on his cage to let him out. Dangerous was more than happy to indulge in the breakfast feast. After scarfing down his food, I proceeded to supply the kitten with some well-deserved rubs and scratches. After about a half an hour, I placed him gently back in his cage and exited the room with Mainframe in tow.
We walked down several corridors and made a couple of turns before taking an elevator to a lower level. I was completely awestruck at how it was possible to house this entire complex completely underground. What was even more amazing was the fact that as far as the military and the public was concerned; no one even knew that this place existed. I knew that I wouldn’t be getting a complete tour of the facility since I wasn’t a member of the G.I.Joe team, but what I was being shown was absolutely amazing! Besides, I don’t think Mainframe even knew everything that the elaborate base had to offer.
We passed several rooms with security pads on them and a pair of armed guards which we saluted before entering the next hallway. Our next stop would be the motorcade as this is where Flint would be arriving. Although, I wasn’t exactly sure how that would work since we were underground. Mainframe explained that an aboveground elevator system would be transporting Flint’s Jeep into the Pit complex much like the above ground helicopter pad had granted the Tomahawk access. I could only imagine what the motorcade would look like, but when we got there, I couldn’t have been more wrong. The ground vehicles stored there weren’t anything like the standard military issue. Most of the tanks and humvees were fitted with laser cannons and other components that would not normally be found on Marine issued vehicles. I was once again completely awestruck. He led me around the room naming each of the vehicles and providing me with some of the important features each one offered. I was really impressed with the sleek lines and futuristic looks of the VAMPs and the Wolverines as well as, the Sky Hawks and R.A.M motorcycles. As I sat inside of each of these unique military vehicles, Mainframe spoke about some of the space-aged metals and polymers used to reinforce and strengthen their construction. Other substances provided a way to reduce weight and aid in heat reduction. As we rounded the next corner of parked vehicles, I was greeted by a rather common-looking Joe. His hair was dark and a little long. He had some facial stubble, an earring and he wore a Rock band T-shirt, a black leather vest and military fatigues. Mainframe introduced him simply as Clutch. I shook his hand and introduced myself as well.
"With a name like Clutch, I’m guessing you’re into auto mechanics?"
“Yup, I am one of the best grease monkeys you’ll ever find. I can sup up any military vehicle to perform above and beyond military specs in the course of an afternoon. I can also fix most things with a little creative engineering, a popsicle stick, a paperclip, and some gum!”
"Really? That’s great. I’ve been turning wrenches since I was twelve."
“I got you beat bro, I started when I was nine. Built my first hot rod at eleven and won the Daytona 500 at thirteen!”
"I’d love to hear all about it sometime."
“Well maybe if you’re lucky I’ll share my tools with you.”
Clutch seemed a bit arrogant, but at the same time he came across as just so cool. I found myself really immersed in our conversation until...
A series of buzzers and flashing lights signaled the movement of the main elevator shaft. I hadn’t noticed the time, but we had spent nearly three hours just investigating the motor pool. The warning lights and sounds continued until the elevator reached the motorcade floor and the gate slowly lifted to reveal Flint’s jeep. He arrived earlier than expected with several other members of the Joe team. Mainframe instructed me that the others in attendance were Lady Jaye and Gung-ho. They were definitely an interesting bunch. Flint appeared to be the most military and straight-edge of the group. Buttons polished, fatigues cleaned and pressed. Even his beret was on perfect. Lady Jaye was dressed in standard combat fatigues, but she had put her own feminine touches on them by leaving the first three buttons of her shirt undone. A bit risqué, but the look on her face told you she was not one to be messed with, and if you were dumb enough to try, she would certainly make you pay dearly for your transgressions. The most flamboyant of this group was clearly a Marine, which one could easily tell by the large Marine Corps tattoo emblazoned on his exposed chest. It was visible because he only wore an open, sleeveless vest and what appeared to be night camo fatigues. This was a look you wouldn’t dare pull off unless you could back yourself up.
It reminded me of an experience from my senior year of high school. There was a new transfer student who had recently joined our senior class in mid-September. He came to school on his first day wearing a bright pink shirt and a red beret. Not exactly a look that was in style in the early nineteen nineties.
We all smirked upon first seeing him and could only imagine the ribbing he would soon be getting from the jocks. Sure enough, it didn’t take long before the captain of the football team, thinking he smelled blood, made his approach.
“Well, who do we have here? That’s some pretty clothes you got on.” He then made a motion symbolizing as if he was ringing a tiny bell. The new kid ignored him at first, but Jake wasn’t going to have any of it. He walked in closer and knocked the red beret off the new guy’s head and then promptly pushed him into a locker. Immediately, the hallway froze. What happened next no one could have seen coming.
The new guy bounced off the locker and without so much as a word, balanced himself and launched a spin kick into Jake’s face, followed by a roundhouse punch and an uppercut. When Jake’s muscle-head friends attempted to intervene, two of them ended up getting dropped in quick unison by an individual swift kick to the groin. Jake had gone down like a sack of bricks and his two toughest friends were squealing in high-pitched voices grasping at their privates. Without so much as a parting glance, the new kid picked up his beret, dusted it off, placed it squarely upon his head and simply walked away. Needless to say, no one critiqued his sense of style from that day forward. Funny thing is, he later replaced Jake as quarterback of the football team and led the team to their first State Championship. He also became the State Champion wrestler in his weight class. I still often wonder what happened to him.
I was suddenly jarred back into reality by the sound of, “Ten-Hut!” I immediately found myself saluting the high ranking soldiers as they disembarked from the jeep and stood before us.
“At Ease G.I.Joes! It’s very good to see you all again. Unfortunately, I understand that this is not under the best of situations.” Flint’s words rang true and we all found ourselves nodding in agreement. “Apparently, Cobra has reared their ugly head and is responsible for missing animals, an overthrown Marine base and various other acts of terrorism along the eastern African coast. We are here to end that threat and put things back to the way they should be. Where is Private First Class Kordos? Front and center soldier.”
"Sir, yes sir!" I answered as I stepped forward from the group.
“I understand that you and Mainframe have had the luxury of combating some Cobra troops first hand."
"We did Sir!"
“I feel we may need to move this little get together into the war room. Everyone follow me.” Flint’s orders were well received and I was ecstatic that we would soon be making plans to rescue not only my fellow Marines but also putting together safeguards to protect the majestic animals on the African savanna.
We exited the motor pool area and set up shop one level up in a rather large and spacious meeting room. The front of the war room was covered with several large monitors and computer keyboards. From one of these large monitors, Flint pulled up an aerial map of the immediate area and asked me to show them where I had first seen Cobra’s troops and also the location where I had encountered the poacher, Gnawgahyde. In addition, he was interested in which direction the Cobra armored forces had appeared from near the communication tower. I was more than happy to oblige. Within a short period of time, we were able to identify several possible locations for the Cobra splinter cells and a likely location for Cobra’s base of operations.
The fact that Cobra’s forces had overtaken the Marine outpost indicated that Cobra probably had a stronghold either nearby, or in the form of a submarine base along the coast.
“Cobra is most likely operating some new found sonar technology that made the approach of their submarines difficult to detect. But, we’re G.I.Joe and with the help of satellite imagery, we have been able to actually find pictures of the original Cobra subs surfacing along the shoreline. Three large Cobra subs emerged yesterday at roughly 0710 hours and unloaded approximately 3 dozen land troops complete with Ferret, Cobra’s version of a weaponized ATV. The shoreline footage also gave us a brief glimpse of the saboteur, Firefly, and Dr. Mindbender. Although it is unclear whether these two were part of the initial attack wave, it is clear that this was a coordinated and planned attack.”
The intel that Flint had uncovered in a relatively short amount of time was nothing short of impressive. We now had a who, a what and a timeframe.
“The initial aerial footage, however, shows no sign of Cobra Commander or any other high ranking Cobra officers. The fact that old CC is nowhere to be seen leads us to believe that the Dreadnok, Zartan, is either manning this assault or possibly the mercenary and explosives expert, Firefly. Although, PFC Kordos’ encounter with Gnawgahyde is having me lean more towards the Dreadnok camp. Regardless, I feel it is imperative that we make our move to emancipate the Marine hostages as soon as possible!”
With that, the room sounded off in unison with a loud and excited, “Yo Joe!”
Flint began to layout an extraction plan by breaking the Joes up into smaller squadrons and teams. I was grouped with Beach Head, Gung-Ho and Mainframe. It was only too cool to actually be included on the mission. A new pilot by the name of Slipstream would be taking us up over Flint’s instructed jump site which was roughly a mile hike from the Marine outpost. We would then rendezvous with Recondo and several other Joes in the savanna north of the outpost. The other squadrons would be approaching from the west so that our assault would be on two fronts.
Flint had also said that several other Joes would be approaching from the eastern shoreline, both to investigate for any other Cobra forces and to create a third possible tactical front. This group would be manned by Wetsuit, Torpedo, and Cutter. Our mission had two parts: espionage and extract. Once we had enough intel on the security of the seized Marine outpost and the surrounding area, we would then have to decide on whether a small group could possibly infiltrate the compound and free the Marines, or if more reinforcements and air cover would be required. Flint was hoping for an extraction with little or no casualties. A third possibility would be to draw out as many of the Cobra troops as possible and then free the prisoners while the rest of the force took out the Cobra threat.
There were several possible game plans and it reminded me of high school football. My coach would have us watch several hours of tape on the opposing team every Monday night. He would order us pizza and Gatorade, but we had to analyze the patterns and plays that the opposing team would use the most. In addition, we needed to focus on how to isolate and eliminate their key running backs and receivers. Once we were able to identify the other team’s strengths and weaknesses, Coach would then spend time at the board mapping out various plays that could be used to neutralize the visiting team.
It was grueling at times. Each play was given a really strange name. The one that sticks out the most to me is the one called “gooey spaghetti.” This was our code for blitzing the opposing team’s quarterback, but it also meant that some of our defenders needed to stick as close to their intended receivers as possible to have a chance at intercepting a fast pass. If “gooey spaghetti” resulted in an interception, someone would then yell “shark!” This would signal all the defenders to begin blocking ahead of the receiver in a “V” formation in an attempt to score a touchdown off of the interception. I smiled at my memory of high school football but quickly brought my thoughts back to the meeting at hand.
Flint rattled off a couple of code words to remember in terms of the course of action we would take based upon the chain of events as they unfolded. The meeting in the war room took several hours. We were given the rest of the day to train and to memorize and review the extraction plans. That night, I met up with Mainframe, Clutch and several other Joes in the mess hall. I finished off the night by checking in on my favorite kitty and then once again, I was off to dreamland.
I slept better the second night, but still awoke early knowing that we were to meet on the jets at 0700 to prepare for our scheduled parachute drop. After a quick shower at 0500, I decided that I couldn’t leave without checking on my new furry companion. It had only been several hours since I had left the ball of fluff the night before, but upon entering the room, an excited little kitten popped his head up from his cozy, little cage with a loud chirp. I walked over, unlatched the door, and reached my hand into his cage. My hand was greeted by a warm, wet sandpaper-like tongue and loud purring. Oh! you’re so cute! I’ve missed you my little Dangerous friend. With that, the cheetah cub rolled over on his back and began to donkey-kick my hand with his back legs. I greeted the attack with some more well-deserved belly rubs. The kitten stopped briefly to lick my hands and then he was back at the wrestling. I was in love.
After placing him back in his cozy confinement with some breakfast, I made my way back to the munitions’ room in order to garner my required equipment. After properly gearing up, I hot-footed it to the mess hall for a quick bite to eat and then I was on my way to the hanger for deployment.
