The Sleep Into OblivionWhere do I begin?…….I guess at the beginning.
You know the saying, ‘more than you bargained for’? This would be a gross understatement. The initiation into my dream would go farther than the pamphlets would suggest.
‘See the world!’ and ‘one of the few, the proud’ would be scantly proportioned slogans in contrast.
The first few weeks- PT, basic survival skills, obstacles courses, blisters, more PT, mock gas chambers, assembling and disassembling weapons, (did I mention blisters) etc., definitely reshaped me. It wasn’t quite your typical boot camp. We chosen few had the honor of trying out for an elite team down the road, that being we surpassed official expectations.
Yep. The Joe team. That in itself is enough to break the average man.
Yet none of the above broke me. It was what wasn’t supposed to happen that did.
Take my friend Jake, for instance. Jake Hexton, a private like myself. He’s been trying to get thrown out of camp-discharged. He says there’s something not right here.
Things have been kinda’ hush-hush lately. Within the platoon, too. The top brass knows something but they’re not saying anything. I don’t even know who I can trust anymore. We’re all on edge.
Our drill instructor doesn’t help matters any(laughs). He’s a character-our instructor. You ever have one of those people who think there tougher than they really are? Bingo. Oh, you don’t want to cross him; he’s one tough Joe. He just doesn’t seem to get a lot of respect from his subordinates.
First it started with the redheaded private. Then it happened to Kealing. Granted, no one really liked Rick. A loner, pretty rude for the most part, but he was at the top of his field. But still…..
Sometimes you just tend to be in right place at the wrong time. Now we just wonder if fate is being really cruel or that us ‘big time’ army boys were just not cut out.
(Nervous laugh) Even the drill sergeant’s barking has lost some edge.
Who’d a thought a small town nobody like myself would be thrown into the spotlight?
Private Greg Hillerton, reporting for duty! Sounded so….so….dashing a few weeks ago. The adrenaline that overtook me for boot camp has now been replaced with worry,dread…and fear……………
“AT-TEN-TION!!!”
The instructor sauntered through the troops with much scrutiny. His voice sliced among the cadets.
“You sorry excuses for soldiers better get with the program!” Perspiration rolled down the private’s neck nearest the speaker. The Joe in his brown and green camouflaged pants spoke while adjusting his grey gloves.
“If you think you’re gonna’ get off easy, you got another thing coming,” the southern accent had a no-nonsense credibility to it. “ If I’m in the line of fire, I need……”
The Joe in charge was cut off in mid-sentence. He looked toward the building as he heard the commotion in an outpour. Yelling and hastening about from officers and boot campers came from a caddy-cornered barrack to his immediate left.
“We got another one!” An arm tugged at the Joe, startling him at of his trance.
The privates all began to chatter and point at the turn of events, obviously wondering what was taking place.
The drill instructor pointed at his cadets menacingly. “Just give me a reason.” With this order for his troops to stay in attention, he ran off following the officer.
The tandem was watched with inquisitive eyes as they pushed through a crowd of gathering privates outside of the barrack.
“Move it! Get out the way!” the green clad Joe barked as he roughly nudged inside. He slid by the first bunk ending up in a stance like a knight being christened.
He shoved clothes and other miscellaneous items off the bed near the motionless body lying on it. He pulled the soldier’s collar down and placed two fingers below his jawbone and neck.
“Is he….dead?”
Beach Head turned his head back to the voice as if he had forgotten someone else was there.
He returned his gaze to the motionless man. Looking at the private’s bag on the partition between the bunks, he swung his arm knocking it to the ground. He chaotically spilt out the contents, scattering them across the floor. He grabbed at a bottle and held it up to a window.
“What is that, prescription medicine?” the officer, still awaiting a response, questioned. This time the ranger fired back.
“Get a staff medic in here! Now!” The officer scrambled out while the onlookers outside pushed to get a look-see.
Beach Head nonchalantly glanced back at the audience. His eyes locked back on the bottle in his hand.
Fort Winningham
“James Hayton, Rick Kealing, David Smalling.” The distinguished voice permeated the general’s quarters.
“All privates. All serving in our 5-20 Infantry Battalion, within the last two months. All dead.”
Photographs attached to prerequisite papers were placed one by one on the oak desk. General Hawk phrased the last words with much emphasis. He had his fingers crossed, elbows on the desk. Two greenshirts were listening while putting away documents in a file.
“It must be Beach Head’s demanding training camp,” one quipped.
“File,” Beach Head retorted back. Hawk continued. “This isn’t a laughing matter.”
“Yes sir, I know, but this is got nothing to do with…..” the ranger was cut off.
The general reached into a drawer and placed a manila envelope on top. “No, not bad training,” Hawk smiled.
The green masked Joe turned the files toward him, his gloved hands resting on the edge of the desk.
“The men all had one thing in common - the Dressler Corporation,” Hawk pointed out. “They either worked for, at or through this company at one time or another.”
Beach Head looked up at his superior, confused.
“Pharmaceuticals,” Hawk quoted without looking up.
The bold eyes through the ski mask widened a bit.
Hawk straightened his brown jacket. “Get a small team together and read over the rest of this report. Check into it. It’s our only lead thus far.”
The Dressler Corporation – 0652
The morning dawn gave a picturesque description of an area that had seen better days. Up ahead, the building and land surrounding it was desolate. Debris blew past the eroding structure. What looked to be useless equipment was scattered about in front, giving off the essence of a junkyard.
“I think it’s safe to say they don’t subscribe to Better Homes and Gardens,” Beach Head commented wryly. His right shoulder was pressed up against a V-shaped boulder just inside a rusted gate. He unsnapped his gun holster as he peered over. He placed ammunition in his weapon.
“Couldn’t we be a little more diplomatic about this?” Lifeline questioned, crouched down in the center of the three.
Beach Head retracted and released the slide of his handgun. “This is diplomatic.”
The medic searched his partner’s eyes. “Are you forgetting the reason I’m here?”
A voice to the right of them spoke. “Yeah, why did we bring him?”
“Load your weapon, Red Dog, not your mouth,” was the sharp rejoinder from the masked squad leader.
“Well?” Lifeline pressed, knowing how Beach Head hated being wrong.
“First we’re to verify if the Dressler Corp. is legit,” the Alabama native checked off. “ Second, if so, we let the Joe medic talk gibberish to their people to see if there could be any drug or toxin in the corporation that could have contributed to our privates’ deaths.”
Beach Head gave Lifeline a ‘see I’m not so stupid’ sideways glance. “Or if they’re all separate incidents.”
“What, are we the FBI now?” Red Dog asked.
“Are you still talkin’?” Beach Head silenced the Renegade.
“And third. I’m in charge,” he adlibbed. “We’re going in for a look-see. You stay put.” With guns in hand, the two Joes slipped between the open gate and left Lifeline squatting behind the boulders.
The medic shook his head as the two walked off, feeling ignored again. He removed his glasses to wipe them. Something reflected off the lens. As he waved them again, that’s when he saw it. A thin red laser light stretched across the barren ground at ankle level. His two teammates were about to walk right through it!
Re: The Sleep Into Oblivion
"Beach Head! Wait!" Lifeline yelled, as he grabbed him by the shoulder.
"I Hope you have a real good reason Lifeline,” Beachhead stated, with annoyance.
"Look," the Joe medic said, as he took his glasses off. In the reflection of the glasses was a thin red line. A laser of some sort Beachhead and Red Dog missed.
"I just by chance saw it,” Lifeline said,” What do you think it is for?"'
"I have a feeling it is for the welcoming committee to know we are here. Otherwise, I don't know.” Beachhead replied,” Red Dog get me that can out of your rock."
"In the meantime you go back to where you were. I need you to look out for us, since I have a suspicion that we will not be welcomed warmly. How many old abandoned pharamusiciatal buildings do you know of are guarded by lasers? "The ranger said, handing Lifeline a radio.
"Since you wont shoot them, at least warn us,” Beachhead stated dryly..
Red Dog handed him a can that looked like one used for hairspray.
"What's with the hairspray Beachhead? Red Dog asked
"Do they not teach you anything anymore in Joe school” Beachhead said disgusted. "Ok Mr. I really to my surprise I really don't know it all, here is a real quick lession,"Beachead continued, he held the can to be seen” This will help us spot the lasers. It has a gas in it that forms a cloud to detect what again.......the laser. Lucky for us we have no wind."
Beachhead bent down to where Lifeline had pointed out the laser, and sprayed the can. There in the cloud was a clear distinction of the laser.
This meant more slow going, since if there was one there was bound to be more.
Lifeline shrugged, so much for a thanks. He had run several tests on the liquid that was found with the private. So far that was the only bottle to be found. None of the others that had died, had anything on them. Their toxicology reports in the autopsies came back negative also. So it was either something new that they did not have a test for or it was metabolically broken down in the body and left no trace. None of them showed any signs of liver or kidney failure either, which made it more puzzling. Once in a while a recruit died from stress of training, but when they started to add up, that was when Lifeline was getting concerned. Along with the Joe team.
Lifeline knew of the Dresslers Corp. they at one time were the leading pharmaceuticals company. They had several Government contracts, and prescriptions pattents all over the world. Then a greedy Ceo and his board over inflated the progress of some of the newest drugs to hit the market, and soon a leak told of how the FDA sent several warning letters that is the drugs were not passing trials like they were told they would. Between the two problems the stock plummeted, and finding out that the owners stole from the company did not help.
Dressler once a multibillion dollar company was in shambles. It had to file for bankrupts, and most of the people lost their jobs. Someone had restarted it but it was worth about a fourth of its former self. They were looking for the next breakthrough to take them back into the game.
Rumor was that it had a chance to get back in, a high ranking govt official talked congress to help fund a new trial drug, what for no one knew.
Lifeline watched as his two comrades made their way to the building.
Re: The Sleep Into Oblivion
The ranger surveyed the landscape anew. He handed the chalk can back to the Renegade.
Too late!
He grabbed Red Dog’s right ankle, but not before the ex-sports star inconveniently backpedaled over an upraised surface, setting off an electronic hum. Expressionless, the lead Joe saw the red laser pinpoint coming from a hollowed out rock three yards away.
“What the….” Red Dog sputtered at BeachHead’s sudden movement.
His head hung low in defeat, BeachHead heard the pitter-patter of feet as he still held on to his fellow Joe’s ankle. In a crouched position, he turned back to see men in military camouflaged outfits, with strange IR* headgear circling the perimeter. With his chin touching his left shoulder he now could see Lifeline being surrounded from the rear. He was being told to stand and place his hands behind his head. Watching the action furtively by moving his eyes to and fro, BeachHead slowly stood up and did likewise
........ ......... .........
“Oh, do please accept my apologizes for what just happened!” The little man in the oversized labcoat spoke as he shuffled slightly ahead of his two guests.
“You never can tell who may be interested in our work,” he added.
BeachHead spoke, “Cobra?”
He got a blank stare. “Who?” Lifeline shook his head at his teammate.
“I just didn’t think our undersized unit could seize a top special missions force such as yourself,” the white-haired man turned his head back to acknowledge them as he proceeded. The two Joes tried to pick up pace with the older man.
“What?…….” BeachHead was quickly cut off by his teammate. Lifeline sensed that the ranger thought he had just been insulted. Lifeline knew that the professor meant nothing of the sort. The furtive little man was a bit absent-minded.
“What Professor Maines meant, Beachhead, “Lifeline surmised, “is that he wasn’t expecting visitors. Right?”
“Yes, yes, yes, that’s it,” Maines agreed why shuffling through his pants pockets. “Now where did I,…. oh….” The Dressler employer reached in his labcoat pocket for keys and unlocked the door in front of them.
Before them lay a vast storage of pharmaceutical supplies and other related items.
“Most of our, umm, proceeds left over, was due to subvention by the government,” the ebullient man hinted with a smile. “Alas,” he waved his upheld palm. “The procurement of survival for the future.”
BeachHead’s dark eyes looked at the medic. Lifeline saw frustration settling in.
“It’s really pretty and all,” BeachHead said sarcastically, talking about Dressler’s setup, “but what’s any of this got to do with the questions we asked?”
For the first time, BeachHead seemed to attract the man’s full attention.
“Patience, young man!” The professor changed his demeanor. “One day, what lies in this,” he said as he pressed a finger at his head, “or these, may save your life.” Maines was also pointing to men who were working behind a glass partition as they continued the tour.
“What are those samples they’re bottling?” Lifeline questioned, changing the subject. The company man lifted up his glasses. “It’s a new compound similar to Thimerosal. That’s a compound that acts as a preservative in vaccines…”
“That helps prevent fatal contamination with deadly microbes,” Lifeline finished.
“Yes, yes,” Maines was impressed. “But this is the big brother to it. Much safer.” Looking at Lifeline, he said, “I’m glad one of you has a sense for the importance of what takes place here.” BeachHead flinched at this comment.
“Look, we just need to know if our boys brought something lethal with them after working here,” BeachHead reiterated, losing patience with the proud scientist.
The professor thought a moment. “You don’t have to have any previous military training to come on board. Training is done here.”
“What about the lab?” Lifeline asked.
“No, unless they were runners,” Maines retorted. “Still, there’s nothing liquid, airborne or even by blood transfusion that could be fatal here. Are you sure about your facts?”
Before BeachHead could make a comeback, a guard appeared. “Sir, you’re wanted atop.”
The two Joes were immersed in heavy, one way conversation. “You tried to make me look stupid back there!” BeachHead’s tone was wroth as he pushed a finger at Lifeline's chest.
“You don’t need any help there, BeachHead.” A voice made them turn. Red Dog, who had stayed behind back at the gated entrance, was laughing.
“Button it!” the ranger held an index finger at the Joe. The masked Joe swung back toward the rescue trooper.
A whistle caught their attention. “You’ll have to trash him later,” Red Dog urged. “Hawk wants him back A.S.A.P.”
The Renegade winked at the medic. “You got a date at the morgue!”
Re: The Sleep Into Oblivion
Lifeline looked at Beachhead, as Red dog told them the news. Watching the professor walk over to a table and back to several vials.
Saved in the nick of time, Lifeline thought to himself. The headstrong Ranger would most likely finish what had begun before interrupted later.
“We have a tomahawk to catch in about 5 minutes,” Red Dog said, as he looked out the door.
“So we are really no further then we were before,” Beachhead grumbled.
“I would not necessarily say that, Beachhead,“ Lifeline countered.
”Lifeline, right now it would be a good idea to keep yourself quiet,” the Ranger said, frustration flashing in his eyes. Still upset that because of Red Dog, they were caught, was he loosing his edge?
“Thanks professor, “Lifeline said ,” You were a big help.”
“Whatever,” Beachhead mumbled as they walked off.
It seemed as if the professor did not hear them, much less even look up from what he was doing.
Lift Ticket landed, the chopper, ”ALL ABOARD, that coming aboard!” the chopper pilot said loudly.
Lifeline took his seat in place by him, and let the Ranger and renegade stare at each other all the way back.
As soon as they landed, Angel came out to the helipad.
“Lifeline , beachhead and red Dog you are wanted in the morgue, the autopsy already started. They waited as long as they could,” she said smiling at the crew.
“Thanks Angel, I will be there in a minute,” lifeline said walking with her.
“A autopsy, I thought that was the medics specialty, not ours,” Red Dog told Beachhead.
“What, you never saw one before? You scared, you going to get sick on me? You better not, and yea it is his specialty but we get to watch anyway, Now come on,” beachhead replied, giving the newer Joe a shove.
Getting on the elevator and going to the lowest level of the pit, all was quiet. The smell of formaldehyde was strong, and the chill in the air as they reached the morgue made Lifeline shiver for a moment.
Looking in the room through the window they saw the latest recruit on the table, naked and a sheet covering his lower half. There was a rolling table with all kinds of cutting tools and speciam jars for collecting various tissues and body fluids. The scale was above them.
Before opening the door Lifeline said,” DO not touch anything and do not say anything, do you understand? If you get sick or feel like you are going to pass out, please stand against the wall. This is a investigation and it is important, otherwise it can be thrown out if they feel ANYTHING was tampered with.” the medic said to both of them. Angel opened the door. Doc was performing the autopsy
Inside the room. on the wall above them a sign read
"Hic locus est ubi mors gaudet succurrere vitae". **
Below that a smaller sign read.
For those who cannot read Latin, translation
"This is the place where death rejoices to teach those who live."
“Wow, that is creepy,” the renegade said.
“SHHH,” both the Ranger and medic said at the same time.
Doc had just started the recording of the autopsy,
“This is Dr. Carl Greer, performing the autopsy on David Smalling, date, 1986/06/06 time 1100, Tuesday.
Doc Continued,
“ EXTERNAL EXAMINATION: The body is that of a well developed, well nourished Caucasian male stated to be 25 years old. The body weighs 171 pounds, measuring 69 inches from crown to sole. The hair on the scalp is brown crew cut. The irises appear hazel with the pupils fixed and dilated. The sclerae and conjunctive are unremarkable, with no evidence of petechial hemorrhages on either. Both upper and lower teeth are natural, and there are no injuries of the gums, cheeks, or lips. There is a picture-type tattoo on the lateral aspect of the left upper arm. There are no deformities, old surgical scars or amputations. Rigor mortis is fixed The body appears to the Examiner as stated above. Identification is by toe tag and the autopsy is not material to identification. The body is not embalmed. The head is normocephalic, and there is no extensive evidence of external traumatic injury, Otherwise, the eyes, nose and mouth are not remarkable. The neck shows no sharp force injuries . The front of the chest and abdomen likewise show no injuries . The genitalia are that of an adult male, with the penis circumcised, and no evidence of injury. Examination of the posterior surface of the trunk reveals no antemortem traumatic injuries. “
Doc continuing,”Clothing: The clothes were examined both before and after removal from the body. The decedent was wearing a short sleeved type of shirt olive green, cotton mix: he was also wearing a form of boxer briefs cotton blend, no blood or body or chemical stains on any of the above”
Lifeline watched as Doc went and opened the skull, Red Dog turned pale and Beachhead just watched.
“Head and Central Nervous System: The brain weighs 1,400 grams,” Doc said looking at the scale and placing it in a stainless steel bowl, “. There are no tears of the dura mater and no recent epidural, subdural, or subarachnoid hemorrhage. The dura is stripped revealing no fractures of the bones of the calvarium or base of the skull. The pituitary gland is normally situated in the sella turcica and is not enlarged. The cranial nerves are enumerated and they are intact, symmetrical and anatomic in size, location and course. The component vessels of the circle of Willis are identified and they are anatomic in size, course and configuration. The blood vessels are intact, free of aneurysm or other anomaly, are non-occluded, and show no significant atherosclerosis. Multiple coronal sections of the non-formalin-fixed, fresh brain shows: The cerebral hemispheres, cerebellum, brain stem, pons and medulla to show their normal anatomical structures. The cerebellar, the pontine and the medullary surfaces present no lesions. The cerebral cortex, the white matter, the ventricular system and basal ganglia are anatomic. There is no evidence of hemorrhage, cysts or neoplasm involving the brain substance.”
Doc then pulled out a scalpel and cut a Y formation in the body of the young man, and the crunch of ribs being cracked as he opened the chest.
Red Dog looked a little pale, and Beachhead elbowed him, whispering to him, ”Don’t you dare,” giving the young recruit a cold stare, ”You will regret it.”
Lifeline looked over, sighing, some people should not be made to watch some things.
Doc cutting and removing the ribcage continued to the tape recorder.
“Upon internal examination The body is opened with the usual Y-shaped thoracoabdominal incision revealing the abdominal adipose tissue to measure 1/2 to 3/4 inch in thickness. The anterior abdominal wall has its normal muscular components and no blunt force injuries are evident. Exposure of the body cavities shows the contained organs in their usual anatomic locations with their usual anatomic relationships. The serosal surfaces are smooth, thin, and glistening and the free blood
“ Moving on to the respiratory system and oral structures. The oral cavity, viewed from below, is anatomic and no lesions are seen. The mucosa is intact and there are no injuries to the lips, teeth or gums. There is no obstruction of the airway. The injury to the left internal jugular vein has been previously described. The mucosa of the epiglottis, glottis, piriform sinuses, trachea and major bronchi are anatomic. No injuries are seen and there are no mucosal lesions. The hyoid bone, the thyroid, and the cricoid cartilages are intact. No hemorrhage is present in the tissues adjacent to the throat organs nor is there hemorrhage into the substance of the anatomic appearing thyroid gland. The parathyroid glands are not identified. Lungs “ as Doc said this he cut each out and weighed them in the scale and put them each in their own basin, continuing,” : The lungs weight: Right, 420 grams; left 320 grams. The external appearance and that of the sectioned surface of the left lung shows a pink external surface without evidence of injuries. There is minimal congestion, otherwise not remarkable. No foreign substance, infarction or neoplasm is encountered.
I am continuing on with the cardiovascular system,” as he removed the heart,”
:
The heart weighs 290 grams ,” Doc says placing it in the scale “ and has a normal size and configuration. The chambers, valves, and the myocardium are anatomic. There are no focal endocardial, valvular or myocardial lesion and no congenital anomalies. Multiple transverse sections of the left and right coronary arteries reveal them to be thin-walled and patent throughout with no significant atherosclerosis. The aorta and its branches are anatomic; The portal and caval veins and the major branches are anatomic. “
Reaching for a scalpel Doc moves to the gastrointestinal system, removing them and with the sound of a splat they land in the scale
”The mucosa and wall of the esophagus are intact and gray-pink, without lesions or injuries. The gastric mucosa is intact and pink without injury. There are no focal lesions, no residual medications, and no swallowed blood is present. Approximately 200 ml of partially digested semisolid food is found in the stomach with the presence of fragments of green leafy vegetable material compatible with spinach. The mucosa of the duodenum, jejunum, ileum, colon and rectum are intact. The lumen is patent. There are no mucosal lesions or injuries and no blood is present. The fecal content is usual in appearance. The vermiform appendix is present. :”
Doc removed the liver, at that same moment Red Dog thought of his mother cooking calf liver for dinner at special occasions, he leaned heavily against the wall now, Beachhead showing no mercy.
“The liver weighs 1,360 grams and is normal size and configuration. The subcapsular and the cut surfaces of the liver are uniformly brown-red in color, free of nodularity, and usual in appearance. The biliary duct system, including the gallbladder, is free of anomaly and no lesions are seen. The mucosa is intact and bile stained. The spleen weighs 210 grams and has an intact capsule. “The kidneys weigh: Left, 150 grams; right, 140 grams. The kidneys are anatomic in size, shape and location. The calyces, the pelves, the ureters and urinary-bladder are unaltered in appearance. The testicles, the penis, the prostate gland are anatomic to dissection.”
Lifeline grabbed a stool to get a closer look as Doc worked, he motioned for them to come closer if they wanted, both shook their heads in a firm “NO”
Lifeline smiled, for such tuff guys, there were some things that some just could not bear to watch.
“Histology, Representatives portions of the various organs, including the larynx, are preserved in 10% formaldehyde and placed in a single storage container.
Toxocology, sample of right pleural blood as well as bile are submitted for toxicologic analysis. Stomach contents are saved. “
“In closing, at this time cause of death is unknown, awaiting further reports from the lab.”
“I have had to do too many of them Lifeline,” Doc said, closing the young man back up.
“I know, and we got a few answers and….” lifeline was cut off.
That was when he heard the thud on the floor, turning around, the medic expected to see Red Dog sprawled on the floor, instead it was Beachhead.
Jumping off the stool and running over, Red dog doubled over laughing at the Ranger, ”guess Beachhead is not as strong as he seems.”
“Beachhead are you ok?” Lifeline asked
Giving them both a hard look beachhead said,”Don’t say a word do you hear me, Don’t you dare tell a sole!”
********the autopsy was taken from many forms and websites on the net as I DO not claim any portion of the text as being done myself, changes have been made and info has been added and removed**********************
Most morgues have this posted in the autopsy room**
Re: The Sleep Into OblivionA Fortified Underground Facility – Undisclosed Location
He stood at the doorway observing Cobra Commander perched in his chair. The ominous leader’s back was to him. The hooded man was shifting through a newspaper.
“Ah, Destro, good,” Cobra Commander’s voice ushered the large man in without even a glance around.
“My horoscope says that my charitable instincts will be most prominent today. It also predicts today is the right time to settle disputes and convert others to my cause by sharing my inner most thoughts,” the Commander laughed as he rambled on.
“I don’t have time for this trivial display of foolishness!” Destro answered.
Cobra Commander swiveled his chair around to face the arms dealer. “Quite the philosopher, aren’t we Destro?”
The muscular man just stared back with his arms crossed. Cobra Commander sensed that playtime was over.
Cobra’s leader then decided to cut to the chase.
“Is everything in order?” the Cobra leader added. “Have the ‘placebos’ been placed?"
Destro responded, “All is complete. Delay tactics are functional and waiting for their signal."
The commander laid the paper on the desk. “Then let’s not keep them waiting……”
Back At The Morgue
“You almost done in there, Lifeline?” Low-Light said. He was holding his .22 caliber rifle tightly. He kept looking out the entrance door to the doctor dictation suite out into the dark.
Lifeline cocked up his glasses as he placed the last of the papers into the manila envelope. “Just about,” he said. He knew the marksman was the paranoid type, but he seemed unusually uptight now.
“Check. Let’s get out of here,” Low-Light replied.
Lifeline turned to the night spotter. “Relax, Low-Light. Everything in here is dead."
The Joe still clung to his weapon, facing the door. Lifeline waited for a reply then returned his attention to finishing up.
“Yeah,” the man in dark grey re-upped. “Still gives me the creeps.”
For a man still conquering his fear of the dark, he looked fairly calm.
The two men’s eyes met at the sound of something heavy falling to the ground. The morgue had four coolers. The sound reverberated from one of them. Low-Light checked the bolt of his .22.
Lifeline’s first thought was the ‘Equestrian Posture’, where a cadaver sits upright do to rigor mortis. He forewarned the night specialist.
“If a stiff even so much as moves,” Low-Light smirked, “I’ll blast him.”
Low-Light, followed by Lifeline, rounded the gross specimen storage and supply area. The lead Joe nodded for the medic to check the first two coolers. Lifeline, less enthused about the cloak and dagger aspect, smiled and went in the first door.
Low-Light graciously canvassed the last refrigerated room. His goggled eyes slowly scanned the room as the humming of the fans loudly rattled. The Joe picked up a vial from a dressing table, turning it in his hand, then replaced it. He didn’t have long to savor the scenery before Lifeline called out.
“It’s gone!” Lifeline blurted. Low-Light spun into the room.
“It’s gone,” the medic repeated. “Someone took the private’s body!” Edited by: VampII at: 3/28/04 10:17 pm
Re: The Sleep Into Oblivion
Low Light stunned at what he had just hear from Lifeline, ran to the cooler.
Disbelieving what he saw as he stood next to the medic in the doorway of the cooler.
The gurney was there but like Lifeline had yelled, over to him the body was gone. Lifeline felt the cold air blowing out of the cooler mixing with the warm air.
“OK, who would take it?” Low Light asked
“I do not know, but I have to notify someone,” Lifeline said, starting to walk over to the phone on the wall.
Picking up the phone receiver, he dialed security.
“I want to notify someone that the body of one of the people in the morgue is missing. “ Lifeline said to the MP on the other end.
“Yes, I know it is imposable, but it happened.,” the medic said fustraited to the disbelieving Mp on the other end.
Low Light looked around, the other three bodies had been released to their families for burial earlier that week and the weeks before.
Lifeline hung up the receiver, and picked it back up.
“Yes I need to get a hold of General Hawk, yes it is important and es I know what time it is,” Lifeline said frowning and rolling his eyes.
“What did the MP say? Lowlight asked
Putting his hand over the receiver Lifeline said” He will be here in about five minutes.”
Removing his hand, Lifeline answered General Hawk,” Yes sir, I am down here in cooler one, I was finishing up a few things for Doc, Low Light was down here h with me and we heard something, and we investigated. Sir, the private’s body is gone. Yes, sir. That is right, gone. Yes General Hawk, I know it is a high security area. Yes Sir, we will wait here.” Lifeline hung up the phone.
“General Hawk is coming and is informing Beach Head also,” Lifeline said leaning against the desk.
“This is just too unusual Lifeline,” Low Light stated.
They waited for Hawk, BeachHead and the MP to show.
Re: The Sleep Into Oblivion
Two sentry guards intercrossed every ten minutes. Opaque circles danced in front of them from a short distance away. A faint drone gave way as a pencil shaped apparatus slid over the lens. Numbers and symbols overlaid on a red backdrop.
“This should be as easy as he said,” the cockney accent uttered as red and black gloves lowered infra red binoculars.
“Yeah, like chicks in a shooting gallery!” Monkeywrench cackled as he tried to get a look-see through her binoculars at her side.
“That’s ducks!” Zarana corrected as she harshly slapped away at the Dreadnok’s hand. “And we’re ’ere just for the diversion, you twit!”
The bearded Dreadnok leaned against a mini sized TNT canister.
“Why don’t you let me 'ave any of the real fun, Zarana?” Monkeywrench questioned.
Zarana backed away from her binoculars. “Are you that stupid you have to ask?”
She motioned to several Cobra Vipers and Tele-Vipers. The Cobra agents scuttled to their positions.
Fort Winningham 20:32 hrs.
“Alright, I call your bluff and raise you two,” the hand slid some change across the table.
The second recruit pushed some coins as well. “Yep”
The two privates stared at the third player.
“Uh, I’m out fellows,” the solemn young man answered.
The first speaker grunted, “Man, Hillerton, you’re a lousy poker player.” The speaker recognized the distant feel in the man as his head was down. “What’s eating you?”
Private Hillerton looked up as the second recruit cut in. “Scared, what else? Afraid he’s gonna’ break down and croak like the other losers.”
A cold expression crept up on the somber youth’s face. “How can you call anyone a loser, Radley?”
The thinly built Radley started to rise up but was pushed down by his husky pal.
“You don’t know anything about those men,” Hillerton defended. “And I’m not scared. I’m just concerned that……”
A grating rumble shook the ground outside the bunker. “What was that?” Hillerton headed straight to the window behind him. He heard faint voices in the distance.
“Probably just a drill sergeant prepping up tomorrow’s round about,” the husky private guessed.
Hillerton still gazed out the window. “No, I don’t think so. It sounded…”
The sound came again. This time accompanied by irate voices and scuffling feet.
“Hey, there’s something going on,” the young man said as he continued looking at the window out into the dark.
The two card-playing recruits opened the barrack doors. “What the heck,” the husky private began. An approaching officer broke him off.
“We got a code three! You guys get to the troop hut. Let’s go!”
The soldiers knew that in case of an emergency that the new recruits would be excluded in a serious combat encounter and would be held up until the situation was under control.
The two soldiers prepared to leave. “Hey, Hillerton,” the robust troop called out. “Let’s move it.”
The reserved, youthful man slowly placed some personal items into his bag. This was done as he periodically glanced out the window.
“Forget him, man,” Radley smirked. The two friends then scattered. The remaining private then began to rapidly stuff his bag. In doing so, he dropped a picture frame. As he picked it up, he smiled at the photograph of his mother; thinking how simple life had been just weeks ago.
His smile promptly turned to one of horror as a face stared back at him from the window. The figure then swiftly hastened away.
“Oh no, it can’t be!” A grim wave of realization came over him. “David Smalling!”
Re: The Sleep Into Oblivion
The door to the compound burst open. Hawk and the others watched in astonishment as troops scurried about. Smoke rose a few meters uphill to their left. An army corporal approached the group.
“There was a series of explosions near the strategic facility,” he said out of breath.
The team exchanged glances. “Any damage?” General Hawk questioned. The soldier clasped his weapon and briefly looked behind himself. Superiors directed the base troops amidst the excitement.
The General’s radio went off. “I need a Sit-rep.”
The voice on the other end was hurried. “Five or six mini explosions. The facility’s undamaged. Reported persons leaving from a remote distance. Identities unknown.”
“I’ll bet.” Hawk hushed Low-Light’s snide remark with a stare.
The corporal asked, “You think someone was after the new headquarters’ locations?”
Hawk mused over this thought. He was sworn to the protection and the secrecy of the plans for future Joe recruit training bases and their locations here at Winningham. If the headquarters’ disc fell into enemy hands…..
His thought process broke as his radio crackled. He listened intently. “We found abandoned TNT canisters. Some surveillance equipment, too.”
BeachHead looked sideways at the Joe leader. “A diversion?”
“Sweep the area,” Hawk commanded. He then proceeded to give placement for the rest of team. The corporal hastily escorted the Joe commander.
……… ……… ………
“No one moving round here,” Low-Light reported into his com-link. He laid in wait in the gentle nighttime breeze. The Joe had a circumference view of the headquarters. He bit off a piece of cheese he brought a long.
“Will check back in,” the voice on the other end informed.
“Yep,” the spotter exercised his right to be less than exhilarated. He then tossed the last slice of cheese to a rat that was perched in the tall grass.
Minutes later
“Hawk, it’s Lifeline. No cadavers were transported today. Wherever the private’s body is, it’s not here.”
Lifeline talked in his walkie-talkie as he briskly covered the medical facilities.
“BeachHead should be following the path our intruders made right about…..”
“Now! Not in a few, right now!” BeachHead ordered over his com-link. The ranger had been checking for any signs of a security breach. Now he sifted through the never-ending labyrinth of corridors leading to the strategic facility.
“I don’t want any pockets in the perimeter watch,” the green masked staff sergeant said. “Bring in the ordnance unit. Out.”
He switched frequencies. “What did the intelligence team find out?”
A voice crackled over. “Negative on both.”
The Joe swiftly rounded a corner. “So, nobody saw the body or any persons entering or leaving the base?”
He paused for a reply. “Nothing. The toxicologist was clueless. He said something about some wacko grave robbers that hit every so often.”
BeachHead grumbled, “Humph, pretty lame. Taking bodies? I’ve heard of collecting stamps.”
Right back at square one, he thought.
With a shove he thrust open the door into the night air. The squared off area between the compound and the targeted facility was but a mere 100feet, but it seemed like hours to him. Whether he was angrier at his troops or at himself didn’t matter. No one showed up BeachHead. Enemy or teammate. This was his crew of nobodies and he felt responsible for the lenient security. To say that he was seething……
The ranger tweaked his gate. Flanking him were chain-link fences topped with barbwire. He whistled slightly, “C’mon.”
There it was again. A pair of feet slithered through the high grass on the outside of the fence. Ladies’ feet.
He unlocked his leg holster and grabbed his handgun.
Clank-clank-clank!
BeachHead crouched down and turned to his left. Someone had fired off shots only a few feet from his head.
“Come on!” Low-Light said, standing there with his rifle smoking. BeachHead now realized that his comrade had fired at the intruder he had seen. “Let’s go.”
Dark clouds uncovered a full moon that in return disclosed a ghostly shadow.
A figure in army fatigues lifted from his hiding place and smiled as he watched the Joes set off at rampant speed after the suspect.
The man straightened his collar, patted at his hair and placed his helmet on. Then, as stealthily as he had appeared, he disappeared into the night.
Re: The Sleep Into Oblivion
“We got one on the premise!” Beach Head yelled into his two-way. “Northeast of the security facility. Ground unit, head them off!”
The two Joes could hear the footsteps up ahead. The feet lashing at the grass and heavy breathing filled the night air.
“Flank!” Low-Light veered to their left at the command. He high-stepped rocks and tangled weeds as he grasped his gun. The Joe ranger gained ground. He could hear a female panting as he kept up with her bright colors.
Low-Light glimpsed lights behind him. The cavalry was coming.
The infiltrator appeared to know where they were going. Or they knew something…..
AAWWW!
A figure sprung up from the shadowed ground pulling the night spotter down with them.
“HAHAHAHA” The sound carried through the night as the Dreadnok uttered his defeat of the Joe. He ran and skipped, laughing at the element of surprise.
Beach Head couldn’t backtrack as he got within smelling distance. “Come here!” The ranger grabbed the pink-haired girl by the arm. As she swung around she tossed a grain-like substance at the ranger’s eyes.
As the Joe squirmed trying to rid his eyes of the burning sensation, Zarana backpedaled and giggled. Off in the distance a small plane began its decent. Zarana met up with Monkeywrench and scuttled aboard. The calvary was off by minutes.
……………. ………….. ……………
Sub-3 landing zone
The A.V.A.C docked amidst a guarded platform. Doors connecting to the complex opened. The Cobra scientist pushed forward. Vipers followed behind. The wind blew at his cape as he extended his hand. The lady took it as he led her down the hydraulic portable steps to the A.V.A.C.
“Good work, Zarana,” Dr. Mindbender congratulated. “ The Commander will be pleased.
Zarana winked. “All in a days work, love.”
The two then proceeded into the doors into an elevator.
Level 2
“The guest of honor has arrived.” The small man’s words carried as a spirited orator as he lifted up from his seat.
Zarana approached the speaker. She placed a small disc in his gloved hand.
“I trust that the superiors at Dressler were pursuaded to silence after their visit from the Joes?” The speaker acted as if he could foresee the answer.
As she retracted her hand, she added, “Had 'em meltin' like butter in my hands.”
“Now we can commence,” Cobra Commander’s voiced boomed with radiance. He moved forward swiftly towards the entrance. “Now we can thwart every single move of G.I.Joe’s infancy militia!”
Dr. Mindbender came and slid in front of the leader.
“Wait! Or you insane?” the doctor quizzed. “You can’t download the information without the last disc.”
The blue clad Cobra’s eyebrows crinkled in anger. “There’s more? We sent three men to their, what shall I say, deaths. My patience wears thin with you, doctor.”
The Cobra refitted his monocle. “I tried to warn you, Commander,” he reiterated. “Too many deaths so close together would alert suspicion, but you insisted…….”
“YOU are just the scientist. I am the Commander! “The masked man hissed. “You follow, I lead. I want the last disc!”
Dr. Mindbender continued to state his case. “It’s too risky to attempt another ‘mishap’. I’m down to the last of the Tetrodotoxin. Besides, the Joes will soon be wise to the drug.”
Zarana and the Cobra Vipers looked back in forth between the two men and their discussion.
“Then use the, tetr……whatever it is, on the last plantee,” Cobra Commander acted as if his patience was wearing down.
The bald man grinned as if having pity on his leader. “Commander, you don’t under stand. The drug is just in experimental stages. That is why we have our people within the Dressler Corporation – to siphon small doses of Tetro without arousing apprehension. Combined with my creation from the Datura plant, I can shorten our specimens’ ‘state of death’. But without the correct dosage…..
“We may actually become dead,” the new voice cut in. “So, Mindbender, is that what we’re called now?”
All in the room turned to see the man as he made his way into the room.
“Ah, Crimson Guardsman 2152. Or should I say – Private David Smalling!” Cobra
Commander cackled.
The Cobra agent was still in fatigues. “How long before the codes are changed?
“The system the Joes are on take approximately 12hrs,” Mindbender estimated.
“Then it’s solved,” the Cobra leader acted as if he had a brainstorm. “We won’t use the sleep drug on our last inside agent. We send Smalling back in to retrieve the last disc.”
A sound of disagreement came forth. “Not a chance!” Smalling snapped. “I almost didn’t wake up from my sleep - from the so-called experimental drug. Sooner or later the autopsies fakes will come up.”
Cobra Commander’s cadence changed. “All the more reason to act now.”
“Send one of the other first two,” Smalling reasoned. “I’ve done what I was paid to do.
The Commander faced Zarana. “The mission had no failures?”
“Not a one.” She patted her pink hair in confidence.
Smalling shot a guilty glance. “I was seen.”
All eyes zeroed in on the guard. “One of the rookies. It was dark. I doubt he got a good look.”
Cobra Commander eased toward the Crimson Guard. He stole a glance at his Vipers.
Two Vipers roughly grabbed Smalling by his arms. Zarana came forth with a long metallic prod. She came within inches of Smalling.
“Hey! Hey! What are you doing!” The Cobra inside man squirmed as Zarana lifted the object towards his face. She pressed a trigger on the underneath side of the device. Electrical sparks emitted from the prod.
“So, you won’t go back in finish the job, eh?” Zarana taunted. “After I bloomin’ nearly got by rear end shot at trying to free ya’ some time.”
She got the signal from Cobra Commander.
ZAPPP!!!
Smalling’s legs gave way as she waved the object across them.
Cobra Commander placed his hands under the man’s chin. “Now, must you be so problematic,” he said, “What better time for a return visit. You have less than 8 hrs. Get the disc and bring it to me.”
As the top brass for Cobra began to head for the elevator, the Cobra leader turned back.
“Oh, and take care of your little mistake…………..”
Re: The Sleep Into OblivionFort Winningham- security compound 21:20hrs.
The rain had pelted the area most of the evening. The courier made pace in the torrential downpour. He pulled back his hood and shook the water from his face as he approached the building’s lit up awning. The messenger reached into his parka, glanced at a PC printout and skimmed the compound. He strode up to the officer’s post.
The guard motioned to him to proceed in after scanning the ID card.
Another guard stood in the compound’s entrance cubicle.
“Evening,” the trooper spoke cordially as he scanned his card. The man furtively watched the guard’s hand type rapidly over a keyboard.
“You one of Power’s boys, aren’t you?” The guard spoke from the information that was displayed on the monitor, never having seen the man before.
He swallowed hard and forced a laugh. He slicked back his wet hair. “Yep, that’s me.”
“What’s that you're delivering?” the guard asked.
He looked at his hands. “Sergeant said this converter was to be warehoused.”
He saw a ballgame on a miniature screen off to the side. A ball cap laid prominently across on a desktop.
“See your Ranger’s are in first,” the rain-drenched man averted the subject to the guard. He then leisurely made his way to the door at back.
“Hey, Smalling,” the guard turned to him. “Don’t jinx it.” The guard laughed. He laughed along and went in as the door closed shut behind him. Absentmindedly, he tossed the box on a shelf and began a thorough search.
Over the Florida Keys – flight path-northwest
“I don’t like this, I don’t like this at all,” Beach Head complained in the cockpit of the Tomahawk.
“What’s not to like,” his pilot kidded. “Fresh air, palm trees a little R&R.”
The ranger just looked out the window. “I need action. This reconnoiter business should be left for the desk boys.”
“Hawk wouldn’t have you in charge of the planting if it wasn’t important.” Lift-Ticket stated.
Beach Head shifted at the thought of patronizing by the pilot. “Hmph, first I got to baby-sit Pointdexter and friends,” he said, looking in the back at Lifeline. Sci-Fi and Mainframe set along side the medic in the back. "Now I get to play hunt and peck.”
Beach Head drummed his fingers on the flight monitor. “After this – back to the pharmaceutical building.”
Lift-Ticket jabbed at his control board. “Ah, quit complaining, least you got my sense of humor.”
Beach Head cut the pilot of with a snap of the foldout map on his lap. “Here we are, landmark 26 of 34. Let’s set this up,” the ranger pointed. “Okay, Bob Hope, take us down.”
………… ………… ………….
Crimson Guardsman 2152 was feverishly searching for the copier disc. Sweat beads formed on his forehead as he tossed and turned through the myriad of warehoused boxes. He knew the fatal quagmire if the last disc information wasn’t secured in time. Every few minutes Smalling would sneak a nervous glance back at the entrance door. He scurried through paper and electronic items on tables. He sifted further back into the warehouse. The Crimson Guardsman stood with his arms akimbo. Where did they move it? Surely they didn’t find the second copier. As he began to inch ahead, the hairs on the back of his neck stood at end.
“Looking for this?”
He turned around finding a familiar man in fatigues.
“Thought you might be wanting to get your grubby paws on this, Smalling.”
Sergeant Powers held the man in his tracks with a stone cold stare. Smalling looked around the perimeter with his eyes.
“I only got hours to spare,” his voice crackled to the sergeant. “Why don’t you just give….”
“I know what you got and I know what you don’t got –time,” Powers corrected.
The Crimson Guard knew what was about to take place. The older Cobra circumvented the young man. “I’ll just yell out. The guard will hear.”
Powers shook his head. “Don’t know what you’re talking about. What guard?”
He had to bluff. “You’ll just avert suspicion on yourself. Surely by now the Joes know it’s an inside job. Someone as stupid as you couldn’t pull it off forever.”
Powers took a metallic, cylindrical object out of his trousers. He picked it up and looked at it at eye level.
“You screw up!” Sergeant Powers spat. “I’ll just have to take care of this little situation myself. You’d make your father turn in his grave.”
The man slid the metallic item on the barrel of the object in his hand.
“Evening, Sarge,” the guard said, posted outside to the main complex. He still had his parka on, though the rain had diminished. The sergeant nodded and saluted.
The guard watched as the small man wandered around the building. As the Sergeant moved in the direction of the secondary branch of the main building, he lit up a cigarette.
He took one puff than left it dangling in his mouth.
An explosion shook the night air. Smoke and fire ripped through the security compound. Alarmed voices cried out as men began to advance on the scene.
Powers continued to move from the compound, in a world all his own. He grinned, obviously pleased by what was in his hands. He turned the soldier’s rectangular object back and forth flaunting the inscription of the name Prviate Smalling.
Re: The Sleep Into OblivionDear Mom,
I wish I were writing the normal ‘tales from boot camp’. I don’t want to worry you but things are a bit out of control. Right now I’m in solitary confinement. No, no, it’s nothing like that! I happened to be a witness to a death, well sort of. I don’t know really. I can’t talk about it all right now. I will later, I promise.
Remember Uncle Tommy’s Vietnam stories, about seeing dead compatriots? I know I’ve only been here for a few months and, well, the effects of war haven’t distorted my thinking. No, Mom, I’m not hallucinating. I’ve seen him. I told you before and now I’m really sure. Especially with all that’s transpired at the base of late. I mean, the Joe leader is here. I may even have the General’s backing. That’s General, as in Hawk, the G.I.Joe commander!
I got to go now, Mom. I’m just in this building during my off time. I still got my daily training. Don’t worry about me. Tell Dad I’m holding up well.
Love, Greg.
‘If they only knew,’ he said inwardly as he closed the envelope. He stood, stretching his aching back. He tossed the missive on a small table as he walked right by the window vent facing the medical facilities. As he rose back up, something caught his eye across the way. A stout figure moved furtively around a small office. The presence of a watcher caused the person to glance in the private’s direction.
Hillerton pressed himself up against the wall. ‘Was I seen?’ he asked himself. The young soldier didn’t know why he hid exactly, but something in the man’s actions didn’t feel right. Wasn’t this the pacifist’s room?
He slid down the wall into a catcher’s stance. “Maybe I’m just paranoid,” he uttered as a tap on the door caught his full attention.
………… ………… ………….
The base guards’ mouths were wide open as the sleek vehicle gracefully kicked up dirt and gravel as it approached the gate. It came to an abrupt halt. Beach Head, in the lead, jumped out of the sports car, doors unopened, with Sci-Fi and Mainframe. Lifeline appropriately opened the car door and exited.
The Joe ranger hurriedly moved passed the smiling and somewhat perplexed guards.
Flashing his I.D. card, just for standard procedure, he firmly spoke, “Get General Hawk to Briefing, A.S.A.P!”
The sentry closest to him briskly trotted over to the mounted phone at the shack. The Joes pursued after Beach Head. The guard that was juxtaposed to his partner, was all eyes. He surveyed the ‘non-military’ vehicle.
Mainframe brushed his hand over the convertible as he caught up with the others at the entrance.
“Keep an eye on it, will you guys?” Mainframe said.
The guard answered gleefully. “Yes, Sir!”
The first guard returned to his spot after finishing up on the phone. He walked up and spoke. “Man, what do you think happened?”
“I don’t know,” the second guard shook his head then stopped and smiled. “Wanna’ bet I get to drive it first?”
……….. ……….. ………..
Comparisons to Beach Head’s slow southern Alabama accent and his ‘deliberate’ thinking were behind the Joe now. As he rapidly gained on the Data Coordinating Room, the hurriedly exchange with Hawk was all it took. The fire at the security facility, the latest scuffle with the Dressler goons, and Private Hillerton’s eyewitness account led the ranger to his destination. If Lifeline was right about the deleted printout, the Data Room was probably next.
Beach Head pushed open the door. Something barred the door. He looked back down the hallway; the constant red security lights were still on. As before, he hadn’t waited for backup.
He stepped into the room. An unconscious figure was behind the door.
CLING!
Beach Head felt a pulse and decided to let Hawk’s unit pick him up after their sweep. They were due in minutes.
Sergeant Powers was hunched over a PC.
CRASH!!
Powers was thrown in a corner, knocking over some software equipment. He was grabbed back up by the collar. WHACK! The Cobra infiltrator tried to regain his balance after the fist to the mouth. He wiped a smear of blood from his lips.
“I always thought you were a phony,” the ranger spat. Both men looked at the disc the stout man carried.
“You didn’t have a clue,” Powers struck back. “Just like the soldiers in your pathetic training programs". Powers chopped at Beach Head’s shoulder and kicked him in the chest. The Joe sprung at the imposter’s midriff. The two crashed to the ground. In the distance the sound of footsteps became clearer. The two soldiers turned to look.
“How bad do you want this last disc?” Powers grunted. Before beach Head could retaliate, the sergeant pointed to the unconscious man on the floor. He pulled a control device out of his pocket, raised the antenna and pressed a button. A small red light emerged from the body.
Beach Head looked from the strung out figure back to the Cobra spy. Sweat beads rolled down his face.
“Good choice,” Powers patronized. He then took a roller chair and smashed it through the window near him. Alarms billowed out.
As Powers left through the broken window, Beach Head ran to the soldier. He saw the crude, but effective remote control bomb attached to the guard.
He forcefully spoke into his walkie-talkie. “Hawk, get your men out of here! There’s a bomb. Clear out!”
Powers had entered into night as he dashed for the outskirts of the base. With the last of the discs in place, Cobra would now have access to every location of 48 Joe training bases. Even if the Joes acted quickly, Cobra could decimate almost have before evacuate. The difference between the good guys and the bad ones is that the Cobra leader doesn’t care how the result is completed. If he could just get to……
BLAM!
The pink boot stepped in between the head and the arm of the lifeless body. The small gloved hand reached down and took the disc from the hand that had held on to it for dear life. With her foot, she pushed at the body. Blood continued to seep through the bullet wound to the head.
“Correct me if I’m wrong, Sergeant Powers,” Zarana snickered, “but I don’t think you’ll be needin’ this anymore.” With a nod to her extractor from above, she ran off laughing hysterically.
Re: The Sleep Into Oblivion
“Come on, soldier, help me!” Beach Head rambled on knowing the unconscious man wouldn’t be able to cooperate. He thrust the private up from under his armpits. He then, with his left hand, held him there. The ranger brushed his brow with a stroke of his arm then began to yank, firmly but carefully, at the uniform beside the bomb. The clattering sound of the impromptu bomb disposal team entered the hallway. Simultaneously, loud voices from outside the broken window permeated the dark room.
“Ahh!” Beach Head let out a gasp as the red LCD light began to flicker.
He furiously began to cut the attachment from the trooper’s fatigues. A hand reached in over Beach Head’s. He made eye contact with one of the base bomb experts. The man placed a mechanism over the bomb unit. The device’s red numbers rapidly counted upward. When the numbers stopped the man plucked at the wires the ranger had exposed. The rest of the team, followed by Hawk, entered.
Beach Head stood up, shakily at best, to meet the General.
“You almost exposed more than a traitor,” General Hawk smiled dryly.
The two walked towards the window. Hawk stood silently while Beach Head gathered his wits. The ranger’s eyes took in the scene outdoors. Lifeline and crew were carrying someone on a stretcher.
“One out of two isn’t bad, Beach Head,” Hawk faintly broke in as the white sheet was placed over the body’s head, then lifted into the medical vehicle. “You feel up to finishing phase two of the plan?”
“I think you’re underestimating your fourth in charge,” Beach Head replied, continuing to watch the events that were being displayed outside the complex. With that, he turned toward his commander and smiled. The two turned to leave as Hawk smiled back and placed his arm around the ranger.
………… ……….. ………..
The small pinpoint circle of light was the only thing that breached the dark, cold floor. The moonlight that protruded through the window silhouetted the four figures against the building’s warehouse. The sound of muffled, stealthy combat boots intertwined together as the paces avoided the crates and other obstacles.
“We’re in. A quick canvas of the area and we'll cap off Landmark 31.” The voice spoke over the walkie-talkie in between crackles of static.
“Okay, boys,” the lead man hurried, “let’s get this done.”
Beach Head moved forward. He lifted his arm to shrug away hanging banners and ropes.
The four crept onward. Mainframe, second from the rear, flashed his light to and fro, as did Low-Light who was behind Beach Head. The night spotter placed his light in his mouth and pulled out his reader. The ranger turned for a look.
“Nope. A little further,” Low-Light muttered.
Lifeline kept in contact with their transport in intervals.
“We still clear?” he spoke in his communicator.
He told the others. “We’re still good.”
Mainframe did a 180 with his feet. His flashlight circling a stack of crates. Large cardboard boxes were neatly aligned. He placed his portable PC on the ground.
“Man, will you look at this,” the computer whiz quietly whistled. “Look at these! At half price, these woofers would look great decked out in my supped up ’71 Hemicuda convertible.”
“Then ask Santa Claus for them this Christmas,” Beach Head grumbled. “Get your gear and quit browsing.”
Mainframe opened his computer equipment as Lifeline flashed his light on it.
“Okay, Beach Head,” Mainframe laughed. He flicked and punched some keys. He pulled an adapter out, hooked the cord and tapped more keys.
“Alright folks, the lights are on but nobody’s home,” Mainframe quipped.
In a few minutes he had finished. “Well?” Lifeline queried.
“This should do it,” Mainframe confirmed. “The signal should be up and…………”
“……..running,” Cobra Commander hissed.
The long time Joe nemesis was pointing at a small signal fading in and out on a wide screen.
“There,” he said. “Signs of life.”
The silver platted man conjectured. “We set out on the offense at the conclusion of the training facilities.”
“Precisely, Destro,” Cobra Commander spoke jovially. He remained steadfast as a warrior who smelled victory in sight. “Now all we need is the last disc in place, ah, here we are now.”
Dr. Mindbender, Zarana and Monkeywrench entered the room. Cobra Commander’s childlike, gleeful disposition faded as he saw the female Dreadnok spinning the Joe military base disc on her pinky finger.
“Uh, heh, heh, heh,” the Commander moved forward nervously,” be careful with that, okay?”
The doctor took the disc from Zarana and the two approached the PC terminal occupied by Crimson Guardsman 21958.
“Not to fear, my dear Commander, this priceless apparatus has been copied,” Dr. Mindbender said.
“Right, I, uh, knew that,” the hooded Cobra leader said.
The bald doctor slipped in the disc. The Guardsman entered the desired components. On screen, a map of the States appeared. Red dots were scattered on some west coasts states.
“These, my beloved Cobra friends, are G.I.Joe training facilities. All in their infancy stages,” Dr. Mindbender reiterated, “and the key to our triumphant victory.”
Cobra Commander leaned in. “Soon to be filled with Americas finest, training in the protection of our sacred country and everything we stand for: our freedom, values, democracy…..”
Cobra Commander’s persona changed. “Their democracy! Their freedom! It’s all controlled! And with that said, we must make sure true liberty is preserved! By fighting and ridding ourselves from the truest source of controlled freedom –G.I.Joe! And what better way to rid ourselves from these pests then to stop them before they’ve even begun a new generation of followers!”
Destro and Zarana followed Dr. Mindbender as he took the disc and headed towards the entrance. “We’ll give each unit a detailed map of the base locations,” Dr. Mindbender informed the Commander.
“And we’ll amass the troops and prepare them for the attacks,” Destro said, “that will presume in the upcoming days.”
When the group had left, Crimson Guardsman 21958 spoke up. “Upcoming days? Why are we waiting to attack? We now have the last disc and all the base locations.”
Cobra Commander slowly moved behind the guard’s chair.
“Tsk, Tsk,” he patronized. “Those are the same reasoning thoughts that killed Smalling.”
Black gloves touched both shoulders of the guard. “As of now,” he continued, “the bases are deprived of personnel.”
The guard glanced back. “Isn’t that what we want? The weapons, training supplies, and complexes are all operational.”
“Lives, Guardsman 21958, lives,” the Commander explained. He began to pace, his thumbs and fingertips pressed together. “Sometimes you have to make a statement less profound and more brass.”
An evil look took form in the masked man’s eyes. “In a few days, almost half of the Joe recruit centers will have soldiers in them. Men and women. Lives. That’s why we wait. What better statement can be made when there are human casualties?”
Re: The Sleep Into Oblivion
“Have you come prepared to die!”
The galactic being stood before the warrior. His opponent lashed out with sword in hand.
“Death is for the defeated and I never lose!”
The two mammoths fought vociferously, swords clashing and shields waging in war.
The moment of victory was before the warrior. As he lifted up his weapon, he slashed through his enemy’s armor, taking him to the ground. Preparing for the kill, he placed the sword above his head and……
“You have a visitor.”
The red-haired youth was startled. Looking at the nurse who had entered the room, he quickly shoved his Game Boy under the bed sheets. As the nurse left, he watched as the newcomer came in. Nodding, he took his hat off.
“What do you want, Hillerton?” the redhead man answered annoyingly.
The young soldier looked about the room. “Nice place you got here,” he said, examining left over food in the base hospital room.
“What do you want?” Radley repeated.
Hillerton shuffled, his hat clinched tight in both hands.
“Heard you had a close call.”
“And?” the irritated voice called back from the bed. The shy youth marched over and set on the edge of the bed. Both men looked uncomfortable. Adjusting himself, Private Hillerton exposed a game controller. Radley locked eyes on his visitor and grabbed his system and placed in under his bed.
“Halo 2?” Hillerton spoke.
“Yep. Third level.”
The two boys exchanged brief smiles. “I’m not here to make trouble,” Greg reassured. “I just need to know what Sgt. Powers….”
“It wasn’t my idea, man,” Radley broke in. “I was just minding my own business. He saw that some of the fellows had a beef with you and tried to play it out. Man, I swear, me and Briggs didn’t know he was a kook.”
Radley saw the surprised look on his teammate’s face.
“You ain’t here to try and rat me out?” the redhead spoke wearily. “ ‘Cause if what you came for is an apology, fine, there you go….and now you can go!”
Hillerton had forgiveness on his face. “I know we’ve seen things differently and I know Powers tried to use that to his advantage. Why, I don’t know.
He paused and looked around. The two didn’t make eye contact for several minutes.
“I saw Powers messing around in Lifeline’s room. It doesn’t add up.” Private Hillerton thought aloud.
“The nerdy doctor guy?” Radley questioned of Lifeline.
Greg Hillerton shot the bedridden soldier a cold look. “He’s a paramedic and he’s not a nerd. Why is every one with glasses who’s on the up and up a weirdo to you, Radley?”
He lifted up his hands from under the sheets. “Okay, okay, he’s not a weirdo. What do you think Powers wanted in his room?”
Hillerton mused. “I don’t know. What I do know is that I got mixed up in this and….”
“And now you want to be Rambo. Geez Hillerton, let the Joes handle it.” Radley mocked.
“You almost died, Rad,” the young man replied. “Everything that’s happened here is big. No wimps and no coincidences. Remember, we’re training one day to be Joes!”
Radley sheepishly made contact. He reached under the hospital bed, picked up his game system and removed the backing. He pulled out a metallic piece the size of a stamp.
“I found this when I went to meet Powers. I saw him meddling around. He told me to shut up and asked about Briggs and me. He wanted us to get you outside the complex. Anyway, Powers heard someone and dropped this. Don’t think he knew it.”
The skinny youth held up the chip. “Next thing I knew I was out. Must have clobbered me.”
“Can I keep this for a while?” the private asked as he got up from the bed.
“Uh, I guess,” Radley said, handing it over, not really for sure. “Long as you don’t get out to the other guys what happened.”
Hillerton was focusing on the chip. He looked up standing by the doorway. “Sure thing, Scouts honor!”
“Hey nerd, its two fingers.” Radley corrected him on the Boys Scouts sign. The two smiled at each other. Private Hillerton placed his hat on, still smiling as he left the room.
Landmark 34, 15:34 hrs.
The whirling of the helicopters was in perfect synchronicity. The uniformed alignment broadcast a matter of security. Or so they hoped.
“We can only circle the wagons so many times,” the pilot remarked. “Much more it wreaks set up.”
The pilot used his reflectors to scan for a sign of company. Lift-Ticket glanced intermittenty between flying and his superior. The lead in the co-pilot seat continued to gaze at his map.
Lift-Ticket drew in a little less than a subtle deep breath. Hawk folded his map and looked behind him. He looked passed Mainframe, Sci-Fi, Leatherneck and other Joes at the small succession of Tomahawks. A quiver of a smile creased his lips.
“Relax, Lift-Ticket,” General Hawk reassured. “We’re not going to just make it look good, we’ll have to defend as well. Cobra’s guessing on a defense attack. They don’t think we’ll stand idly by while they try to rid themselves of one of our secret recruit bases.”
Lift-Ticket focused on the training base below. It seemed hard to defend a ‘phantom base’. He knew it was all part of the plan. The Cobra agent Powers had successfully retrieved data on all thirty-six training bases. All built, paid for and almost prepared for troop deployment. If Cobra located even half of the facilities, millions of dollars, and more importantly, lives could be lost.
What if they didn’t ‘hoax’ the enemy in time?………..
“Lift- Ticket?” Hawk repeated.
The pilot answered, “Yeah, I know. I just don’t like knowing things the other guys don’t know.”
“Like clockwork!” A voice from the back announced Cobra’s arrival.
Hawk rechecked his handgun. Turning to his right he said, “The safety of our training bases is high priority. If every Joe knew of the exact details of this set-up and one was apprehended by Cobra and, let’s say, was subject to one of Mindbender’s mind control machines, the gig would be up.”
Hawk strapped in. “Don’t worry about leaving the Joes at Dressler. It was a necessity. I still can’t believe our boys got away.”
Lift-Ticket smiled, “Yeah, Beach Head would have really never forgiven me if he couldn’t have styled in the convertible!”
RAT-A-TAT-TAT
The Joes were already firing away at the Cobra planes. Ravens were flanking the head Tomahawk.
“Make it look good, fellows. This is what we’ve been waiting for,” Hawk yelled out over the jamming radios. “Give ‘em what they came after! Let them strike the building.”
Lift-Ticket dove and flattened out. “Just a minute and will be out of……..”
CRASH!!!
Bullets ripped a foot above the electrically driven tat*. The left hinge of the canopy was smoldering with smoke and fire. “We’re hit!” Lift-Ticket hollered. He turned to see Leatherneck still manning the 50cal. Machine gun. He then hit the com-link button to let the other pilots be aware of their problem.
“Hawk, we’ve got to land.” Lift-Ticket lurched to his right. “Hawk?” Humped over, with his head hung low, was the Joe commander. Blood trickled from the side of his helmet. Blood was stained on the spiderwebbed glass.
“Hawk!”
Lift-Ticket horribly realized the first part of the mission had serious turned for the worse.
Re: The Sleep Into OblivionSmoke. Everywhere. Hard to breathe. Can’t help move Leatherneck. Not strong enough to move the wreckage. Where are the rest? There! Hawk! Can you hear me? Hawk! Got to keep shaking him. I hear Cobra vehicles. Ha…..blood, ah no. General! No pulse. He can’t be! It’s all because of me. A nobody. It should be me!
NNNOOOOO!!!
“Hey,” the soothing voice called out. “Welcome back.”
The trooper tried to focus on the speaker. “Where am….what’s going……,” the youth stumbled.
He sat up in the bed, half covered. “Lifeline?”
The medic sat on the side. “I believe your were dreaming. Here you go.” The Joe rescue trooper handed the recruit some water.
“I dreamt all this?” Hillerton said incredulously looking around the same room that Private Radley had previously been in. “We didn’t get shot down or crash or…..”
“Hold on now,” Lifeline grinned. “Not all at once.” As he took Hillerton’s blood pressure, Lifeline pointed to the youth’s own arm. Bruises covered it.
“We were shot down alright,” the medic spoke grimly, “so I’m partly responsible for those cuts and scrapes you’re decked out in.” The two shared a smile as he laid his arm back down.
“Hawk, too? ” he blurted out. “He was covered in blood and……”
Lifeline gave the young man a solemn look then slightly grinned. The young man was full of questions. Just like he was at that age. He shifted his glasses. “I guess it’s time to level with you.”
Outskirts of wooded area: unpopulated
Situation: downed aircraft
The pilot shuffled through the debris with his foot. One hand reached for a charred seat. He pulled at the seatbelt and thrust it down angerily. He continued his search through the rummage that had been ejected from the helicopter. The A.V.A.C. pilot’s communicator went off. He snapped his fingers at the two nearest Vipers to get their attention.
“Yes sir.”
The hissing voice on the other end rang with persistence. “Report.”
“The Joe base was demolished during the ensuing attack,” the A.V.A.C. pilot began. A Viper came over and handed him an item. “No survivors yet, sir. There are some uniforms but they're melted to the burnt fragments.”
Cobra Commander said, referring to the Joe training base, “One down. And the remains of the recruit?”
There was a hesitation on the receiving end. “Not yet, sir. If I may, what do we still need with the Hillerton kid? The Joes know by now that we’ve used inside men to spy.”
The head snake hissed. “The chip, you moron! The chip that idiot Powers lost. Its motion detected movement after his death. It was removed from the head terminal.”
Cobra Commander patronized the officer. “We can’t eliminate all the Joe training bases now that we’ve been uncovered, so we’ve only reeked minor havoc. The chip will let us monitor every Joe move, henceforth.”
The officer slowly knelt down in the wreckage of the Tomahawk as the Commander rang out. “So quit asking questions before I no longer need you! And get me the recruit –dead or alive!”
The pilot held his hand out, palm up. A chain hung from his hand “Yes, sir. Over and out”
The pilot then stood up. Dog tags read: Private Greg Hillerton. “Here,” the pilot smiled, throwing the chain at the Viper’s chest nearest him. “Let’s clean up.”
"......so Hawk's not.....?"
"Dead? Not just yet." Hawk entered the room where a few Joes had now gathered. He placed his coffee cup on the soldier’s tray. Hillerton saw Lifeline’s handy work of bandages and band-aids on the General. Hawk smiled, then his features changed.
“You unwillingly thwarted a major scheme. We had our suspicions, but until you saw Private Smalling, a.k.a the Cobra agent, we couldn’t piece it together.”
Hawk paused as Lifeline began. “We couldn’t figure out why our recruits were dying, and in session. Each persons ‘death’ had an elusive way of not be detected in an examination or autopsy.”
Hawk finished. “Obviously at this rate, Cobra would have to suspend operations do to the frequency of deaths. By then they would have had the last user code to every new Joe training base.”
Hawk sipped at his coffee. “You, my friend, made Cobra change tactics. Which, luckily for us, exposed Powers.”
Hillerton panned the room before speaking. Shipwreck, Low-Light and Sci-Fi stood at the far wall.
“Why the faked deaths, though?” the private said hoarsely.
“They had their agents penetrate the inside of the base,” Hawk explained. That gave then some access to certain information: retina scans, fingerprints, layout info.”
Lifeline interjected. “Apparently Dr. Mindbender created a serum that enables the body to seem lifeless.” The private thought the medic was admiring the Cobra scientist’s medical knowledge.
“Before an actual autopsy could be done, the Cobra agent, now awake from his comatose stage, could leave the premises without setting off any of the security systems. Then he could return to place a ‘fake’ body in his place. Then the cadavers began to be 'misplaced.' ”
The Joe medic learned forward and shifted his glasses. “They even had the medical team baffled.”
Hillerton hesitated. “If I may, what about all the new training facilities? I mean, if Cobra…..well, I have a older brother who may be at one and…..”
The Joes exchanged questioning glances at their superior. Hawk spoke. “I’m not at liberty to discuss the operation, but I can reassure you that all is being done to prevent any losses.”
General Hawk’s body language signified that the makeshift conference had ended.
“For now, we got to do an internal readout to find out if Cobra left us any trophies,” Hawk motioned and Mainframe followed him. “Now we have to find out if Powers finished his assignment. We may have got the upper hand for now, but we’d better wait to light the cigar.”
Private Hillerton rose up on his elbows. “I guess it’s time to level with you.”
He reached over and pulled out a knapsack. He set back upright. Between his right thumb and index finger, a small metallic object glittered.
“General Hawk,” Mainframe slightly grinned, examining the piece, “you may want to start looking for that cigar.”
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