DESIN, CENTRAL AFRICA:
Duke:
Ripcord, what do you see.
Ripcord:
Small scale pit mine. Lots of new construction equipment. A few of those MARS minitanks, and about a platoon of Choot troopers, the leader is dressed different, more of a SWAT member, wearing a balaclava. You think he’s Cobra?
Duke:
Possible. Beach Head, how is it on your end?
Beach Head:
Small firebase distance is around two kilometers from the mine. There are about ten Cobra I see down there. Visual on our Russian. I see four…five minitanks and three small tiltrotor craft. Strange looking things. Maybe another platoon of native forces.
Duke:
Okay wrap up surveillance and head home. Flint you get all that?
Flint:
I’m looking over the sat pics now. Easiest plan would be to fake a small scale raid on the mine. Draw the Cobra group out and try a snatch and grab. This Russian’s more than likely not going to leave the fire base if he thinks the incursion is just some local bandits trying to steal some diamonds, but he will launch his air units. Set up Gung-Ho with some Stingers at the midway point in this gully here and place a couple IEDs for the minis and you clean out his armor PDQ.
Hoover:
Hoover the minitanks are MARS series 137s called a Hiss, go figure. Copters are Fangs. Both are lightly armored ground support units. A single TOW will cut a Hiss in half. They also have a six man troop compartment. That may finish off a good deal of your troopers there if you catch those things fully loaded. Armament is two automatic Mark 19 grenade launchers mounted in the turret controlled by a gunner inside, three man crew total. The Fangs are armed with a 7.62 mili chaingun slung on an armature below with a helmet aiming link, and some rocket pods and the ability to mount a TOW launcher. Hardly any armor, small arms could drop them if hit in the right spot.
Flint:
I agree put Gung-Ho and Roadblock in the gully with remote detonators for the IEDs, a stinger, LAW, and a ma-duce and you got yourselves a nifty little ambush. Take the rest of the team and infiltrate the base, snatch our guy, and pick up in the clearing six hundred yards west with the Night Hawk. Then beat feet for the boarder.
Duke:
Sounds easy in theory, but nothing ever goes according to plan.
Roadblock:
So we go tonight?
Duke:
Looks like it. Breaker, get on those IEDs.
HONDURAS, CASA CALIEZ
Caliez:
Evan, my friend! It’s so good to see you.
Dreyffus:
Angelino, how are you?
Caliez:
Fine, fine. Come out back to the veranda I’ll have Pico set up some mojetos.
The view changes to Snake-Eyes perched in the treetops watching Dreyfus and Caliez walking out to a prepared table. He is watching through a spotter scope. He types on his key pad. VISUAL SECONDARY.
Scarlett, out front with the rest of team Beta now dressed in suits carrying out their protection detail cover, reads the text across her shades by means of a small image projector on the inside of the frame. She clicks her com once to acknowledge. There are voices below Snake-Eyes he looks nearly one hundred feet below. Two of the Cobra troopers and some of Caliez’s men are carrying several plastic bags back to the house.
BS#2:
(Into com) Yes, Major. No we’re still missing his effing left foot and some other bits. No sir, we saw the cat, huge thing. It slipped away on us.
Snake-Eyes:
Heh.
Dreyfus:
(seeing the men) Little activity this morning?
Caliez:
Ach, I’m afraid I have been playing host to some guests who were unfamiliar with the jungle. One of them drunkenly wandered off into the wilds last night to hunt a jaguar. As sometimes happens when hunting the Jaguar, the cat appears to have become the hunter. We found him this morning; quite sad.
Dreyfus:
Tragic.
Caliez:
mmm.
Dreyfus:
So, have you given any further thought to my business proposition.
Caliez:
You know Evan, I have, and I am sad to say that we have received a better offer.
Dreyffus:
Was I underbid by your current guest.
Caliez:
You know I am always a gentleman when it comes to business, so I cannot say, but I promise you there will be many other ventures you and I can share in the future. If I may be so bold, perhaps even some fat government contracts.
Dreyfus:
Sounds very promising.
Caliez:
Oh, I think it will be, my friend. Just be patient and things will work out nicely in time, I think.
Dreyfus:
Well, I hate to rush off, but I have a lunch reservation in the city this afternoon, and you have guests to attend to.
Snake-Eyes types: MEET IS OVER.
The team getting their vehicles
Stalker:
Painless?
Dreyfus:
Nominal. You need to reign in your boy. I think he offed one of the Major’s men last night. That’s a big risk to be taking right now.
Stalker:
I’ll deal with that.
Major Bludd watches the team leave. Caliez joins him on the second floor balcony.
Bludd:
Friend of yours, mate?
Caliez:
An occasional business associate. One which you’re intervention will hurt financially I’m afraid. Find any more of your man?
Bludd:
Most of him.
SCENE THIRTEEN:
NIGHT IN CENTRAL AFRICA.
Roadblock:
All right Duke the diversion is set. I paid a visit to a local bandit warlord the Father told us about. One good thing about civil wars and third parties, someone always gets left out or rubbed the wrong way. I had Hawk pay them off to drive around the mine and shoot shit up for us tonight. Amazing how many lives a warlord can sell if the right amount gets wired into his account.
Duke:
So he knows what his boys are driving into?
Roadblock:
He’s seen enough ordinance to know they sure’s hell ain’t coming back.
Duke:
Heh. Good thinking, on that though, we were going to be spread a little thin.
Gung-Ho:
Five guys verses two platoons three whirly birds five armored personnel carriers? Just a little.
Breaker:
Thumpers are planted, boss. I’ve got six along the roadside. Here, here, here and through here, and two big bastards, here and here. Oh, and I wired the little bridge over the gully.
Gung-Ho:
Overachiever.
Breaker:
Hey, it’s your ass going head to head with the armor, jarhead. Where’s Ripcord?
Duke:
Recon on the firebase making sure our Russian friend stays put. He’ll be serving as sniper on this too.
Gung-Ho:
Anybody ever seen the boy shoot? No? Let’s hope he is as good as he hopes he is.
Duke:
Yeah, we should have gotten two good snipers for the team, that was our fault. We’ve got guys who qualified master marksmen, but only one sniper. All right lets head to our positions. Roadblock, call your boy and tell him to set the dogs loose once we’re set up.
LATER
Several vehicles full of bandits drive into the mine and start shooting the place up while others raid the storage area for diamonds.
Breaker:
(Monitoring the frequencies on his portable com gear.) It’s on, boss.
Duke:
Good let them call for backup and then turn on the jamming equipment.
They hear the sounds of the firefight from two kilometers away.
Breaker:
Call’s in.
Duke:
Let them get good and underway.
Ripcord:
(Over com link) The Russkie is awake. Still not leaving his building.
They watch as the troops run for the Hiss tanks and mount up. Three Vipers climb into the Fangs. The force heads quickly to the west along the road.
Ripcord:
Target, is now on his porch, but he’s not going with.
Duke:
Great. Roadblock, they’re coming at you from the east.
Roadblock:
(Over com) Daddy’s got something for the baby.
Duke:
Breaker, You have eyes on the guy?
Breaker:
I got him.
Duke:
Rip, shift sites to the tower and go weapons free. Engage!
Ripcord:
Yep.
Duke:
Breaker, jam ‘em. Estimate a dozen troopers still in camp about thirty in play on the road.
Ripcord fires two rounds and takes out the guards in the tower with clean upper torso shots from four hundred yards. The assault team rush the fence and cut the wire. Duke fires a silenced FN SCAR, Beach Head fires a silences SIG 552 on the run knocking down two more guards.
At midpoint roadblock and Gung-Ho watch the Fangs fly over.
Roadblock:
I seen what those things is going after and those thugs ain’t gonna last long.
Gung-Ho:
Yeah, well at least they’ll suck up most of their ammo. Those little tanks are hauling. Get on the detonators.
Gung-Ho picks up the LAW, taking a position with three more lain beside him as well as his trademark thump gun and two SAWs.
Roadblock hunkers down behind a massive M-2 .50 cal machine gun and takes the first in a series of detonators in hand.
The tanks motor passed; as the last one crosses the small bridge between them roadblock blows it. The tank is ripped apart from beneath and falls shredded on its side fifteen feet below. Gung-Ho grabs a SAW and sprays the two dazed men who stumble out the flaming rear door. The next charge blows at the front of the convoy below the road surface it is one of the large IEDs and rockets the tank ten feet into the air as it tears to pieces. The second large IED blows mid convoy repeating this with the third vehicle, tearing the troop compartment to bits and flipping the remains forward onto it’s top. The men in the forth dismount their HISS as the second drives off the road on Gung-Ho’s side. The men of the forth vehicle are strafed by the M-2 as Roadblock fires off the smaller anti personnel mines. Gung-Ho fires his LAW at the second HISS which is now racing towards the gully firing 40mm grenades in their direction. The rocket blows out the tread and the tank lists badly spinning in the soft dirt. The rear hatch drops toward the JOEs and rather than grab his SAW Gung-Ho lobs a grenade with his thumper. It goes off in the doorway just as the ramp hits the ground. Those not killed outright are greeted by the sight of a LAW rocket streaking into the open door. The blast guts the Hiss; the turret and drive hatch blow a jet of flame and debris outward.
The firefight lasted only thirty seconds.
Back at base Duke, Beach Head, and Breaker press forward towards Scrap Iron’s housing, silently dropping Cobras and Choots alike, when the element of surprise is suddenly lost. A Cobra Viper coming out of a barracks spots them with his night vision helmet as the group crosses open ground in the darkness and opens fire. Breaker is shot twice once in the upper leg and his hip. Duke, Beach Head, and Ripcord all fire on the Viper.
Inside his house Scrap Iron looks out to see the commotion and grabs a Russian made scorpion pistol and a MARS rifle (heavily modified IDF Tavor). Duke throws Breaker over his shoulder and runs for cover as Ripcord flips his rifle to auto and lays down cover fire. Beach Head leads the way to shelter taking down another trooper as he emerges from the motor pool. The trio slide behind a dismantled undercarriage of a HISS near the motor pool. Beach Head immediately pops up to lay down cover as Ripcord reloads on his hillside.
Behind cover:
Breaker:
Shit, shit.
Duke:
It’s all right. (Into his com) Bill, I’ve got a man down what’s your ETA?
Wild Bill:
(Over com.) I’m about six minutes out, but I’ll put the spurs to her.
Scrap Iron and a two Viper are standing behind the group shielded from Rip’s view be the roof of the motor pool.
Scap Iron:
Do not move! Drop your weapon. Now!
The two uninjured JOEs are hesitant to comply, but Duke has let his SCAR slip down on its lanyard and Beach Head has his back to Scrap Iron. Beach Head glances quickly looking for Duke’s play. Scrap Iron sees the gesture and knows these men are too dangerous to be allowed the upper hand, but he will need at least one of them alive to answer questions for the Commander. Thinking quickly he shoots Breaker in the other leg.
Duke unclasps his weapon and drops it to the ground and stands up; his back to Scrap Iron.
Beach Head drops his 550 staying on his knees he places his hands behind his head.
Ripcord: (over com) Boss I see his hand but not him. I’ve got a bead on the guy to your right. Are there any others I’m not seeing?
Duke gently motions, no with his hand.
Scrap Iron:
Who the hell are you? American? SAS?
Duke motions GO. Ripcord drops the Viper to Duke’s right with a headshot as Duke pivots and pushes the Tavor down and sideways Scrap Iron fires a few rounds into the dirt and then releases the gun to fight back. Duke holds onto the barrel and then pivots again swinging the gun like a baseball bat and connecting with Scrap Irons helmet, he goes down hard and then sweeps Duke’s feet out from under him.
Beach Head pulls his HK Mark 23 and wheels around shooting the second viper through the face mask.
Ripcord drops two more men that show themselves.
Back in the gully:
Gung-Ho:
That’ll get your heart going.
Roadblock:
Shit. (Laughing.)
Gung-Ho:
Looks like the tiltrotors are circling back, must have seen the fires. Here, ever use a Stinger.
Roadblock:
Not in a fight.
Both men pick a target and the side mounted speakers begin to whine with contorted sound as the heat seekers pick their marks. As the tones turn into a solid drone the two let loose. The missiles race in and knock down two of the Fangs, but the third now has their position and begins firing wildly. Roadblock grabs the M-2, but cannot angle it into the proper position.
Roadblock:
Screw this!
In an adrenaline filled burst of strength the big man hoists the ma duce tripod and all six feet of gun up off the ground brings it to his hip and squeezes the trigger the massive weapon spits out a torrent of flame as Roadblock screams as the incoming rounds hit all around him.
Roadblock:
Yeah! Come get some! Come get some’a this, baby!
The tracers streak into the path of the Fang and its cockpit glass and portside engine shatter. The now uneven force and dead pilot cause the tiltrotor craft to spin on a level plane like a boomerang. It whips passed well over their heads.
Roadblock; breathing heavily; exerted as he calms down drops the barrel to the ground and realizes is heat has caused his glove to smoke on his left hand he quickly whips it off and pats it on his pant leg. Then he realizes he has not looked for Gung-Ho he looks left quickly. Gung-Ho has the unused Stinger slung over his shoulder and has his camera phone out. The phone beeps, and he closes it.
Gung-Ho:
Top Secret or not, sum bitch. That shit is going on youtube. I ain’t never believed somebody could shoot one of them monsters not mounted to something.
Roadblock:
Yeah, me neither.
Back at the firebase:
Breaker, now very pale and on the verge of passing out is laying down fire with Beach Head from behind their cover toward a barracks from which several men are shooting
Duke continues to fight with Scrap Iron, in the open as the troopers shoot at them both
Ripcord fires on a blue shirt trying to flank Breaker, and then sees something in the air.
At that moment Duke grabs the rifle from the ground and gets the drop on Scrap Iron who is bloodied and kneeling.
Duke:
Goddamnit! You’re coming with us!
Scrap Iron: I don’t think so. (Slowly reaching for and pulling the Scorpion automatic pistol from his belt behind his back.)
A look of shock flashes over ripcords face as he realizes what is coming their way, on a ballistic arch. He yells into his com.
Ripcord:
Aw, shit. Incoming!!
With that the crippled Fang slams into the barracks and explodes. Duke dives for cover taking his eyes off of Scrap Iron who pulls his gun only to be diagonally sliced in half by the spinning rotor blade of the Fang as it flies out of the blast narrowly missing Duke.
Duke and the team stand there stunned for a moment. Not believing what just happened when suddenly the trees brush apart with the downdraft of the Night Hawk.
Wild Bill: (over com) Y’all need a ride?
Duke, Beach Head, and Breaker can only look at each other.
The helicopter has foregone the designated LZ and has landed in the base to make it easier to load the wounded Breaker. As we pan back we see Roadblock and Gung-Ho grabbing the communications/jamming device in the field and running toward the chopper.
As it takes off Gung-Ho throws the bag in the chopper and climbs in.
Gung-Ho:
How’d we do? (Looking around) Where’s the guy?
Duke:
(Holding a freezer pack to his jaw, while Ripcord works on Breaker and Beach Head mans the minigun.) Don’t ask.
SCENE FOURTEEN:
HONDURAS at DUSK
Stalker climbs into the top of the tree with Snake-Eyes.
Stalker:
What the hell did you do last night?! Did you feed somebody to a Goddamn Jaguar? What the hell is wrong wit’chu?
Snake-Eyes shrugs.
Stalker:
Don’t you go psycho on me damnit. Don’t you go psycho. Living in the damn mountains with a damn wolf. Pulled a gun on my ass too, ya lucky I didn’t kick your ass for that. Known me ten damn years and pulls a gun on my ass…(fades as he climbs down he tree. Suddenly reemerges) And don’t pull that shit again. None of it. You’re my friend and all, Daniel, but you pushing it.
Scarlett:
Is he up there?
Stalker:
Hell, yes. You had better talk to your boy.
Scarlett:
He’s not, “my boy,” Sergeant.
Stalker:
He wrote me, you know. After the crash. He told me about you.
Scarlett:
Oh. You’re Lonzo, God I’m so stupid for not… He talked about you. You helped him after his family died.
Stalker:
Intel officers or not; neither one of you two knows what the hell you’re doing when it comes to each other. Why didn’t you go see him in the hospital?
Scarlett:
I tried. I did once, when he was still in the primary burn unit. He was sedated. I just thought he was going to wake up and blame me for everything. For the team, for his face, for all of it.
Stalker:
Yeah, well he didn’t you know. He wrote you off because he thought you were an uncaring bitch for never getting in contact after it all. That you just kept on keeping on. He could have used that support, you know. He ended up a damn hermit.
Scarlett:
How did you know I was… her?
Stalker:
The fact that Hoover picked you, and he is just that level of asshole, and the fact that you have something smart ass to say to everybody, but him, and the fact that he won’t even look at you. That’s hard to do on its own. And how many southern chicks have the stones to be called “Scarlett” O’Hara. Hell, I thought he was joking about that.
Scarlett:
Why did you put us on Beta this time out?
Stalker:
Truthfully? Because we flipped a coin and Duke got Breaker. You were the second best with com and computer gear,
Scarlett:
How much do the others know? Hawk and Duke and the rest of the team?
Stalker:
Nothing. Unless Hoover told them, and I think he’s just using this as some form of leverage on you both. Most of Snake’s packet is classified so high up that even Hawk hasn’t seen it unedited. Fortunately one of those edited parts was your mission in Afghanistan; it shows that it happened, but not what it was for or who it was with. He filled some of that in his letters. Hawk took him in based on my recommendation. Now I just worry. I think he might need someone to keep him grounded right now.
Scarlett:
You’re asking me?
Stalker:
I’m just hoping it might be you. And truth be told so does he. Now get up there and go talk to the man.
Scarlett climbs up; Snake-Eyes realizes it’s her and goes slightly rigid.
Scarlett:
Look, I know we need to talk.
Snake-Eyes snaps his head around at her and points to his throat.
Scarlett:
Fine I’ll talk; you listen. You were always good at that anyway. I didn’t abandon you.
He stares again.
Scarlett:
Okay, I didn’t abandon you for the reasons you thought I did. I just didn’t want to know you hated me. I was scared you’d blamed me. I know I was wrong. I know I should have been there. It’s just we… We were so unexpected. I didn’t think you’d be that guy, and leave it to me to find that guy and then almost kill him. Dad still asks about you, you know. “Whatever happened to that boy you brought down from Langley that Christmas.”
Snake-Eyes: (His goggles off, you can see more of his face, his right eye is badly scared around and misshapen, though his left looks quite normal. He looks at her)
Scarlett:
Your face. Honey, we can…
We see a rear view as he pulls his mask off quickly. His head is badly burnt in places and his hair is spotty.
Tears well up in her eyes and we realize this is the first time she has seen him like this, without bandages, as she herself had been unconscious after the crash. There is shock and then embarrassment at her own reaction, as well as heartbreak that this is what became of the face she knew and once loved.
His head lowers.
She reaches out and strokes his hair. She pulls him to her and lays his head on her shoulder.
Scarlett:
It’s okay. It’s okay.
LATER:
Scarlett climbs down from the tree.
Rock n’ Roll:
So what were you two doing up there so long? Heh.
Scarlett:
[frick] off, surfer boy. Vince Neal wants his headband back.
Rock n’ Roll:
uh-hey. Na- That’s not cool. Vince…
Scarlett:
(briskly walks passed Stalker) Happy?
Stalker:
Are you?
Scarlett:
I’m getting’ there.
Stalker:
God help us all.