BURDEN OF AUTHORITY
BY: DANI

Folly Of Worry

    The plan was set based on the sparse intel they had pieced together from Gung-Ho, Ripcord, and Alpine's previous reconnaissance. Flint hated having to work off such little information and with such short notice -- normally a perfectionist, he enjoyed knowing as much as he could about his missions and personnel in advance so he could properly prepare - but this time he had no choice. However, he had an inkling that Fate might be on his side for this one. If they hadn't been here rescuing Lady J, Destro would have been able to release this contagion without contest. Yes, Fate had placed them in a position to play savior to humanity, but that position certainly didn't afford them much of an advantage. Surprise was their only ally.

* * * * * * * *

    "This will be a day long remembered," a deep, sonorous voice bellowed from the shadows. A figure cloaked in darkness hovered over the control panel; the flashing console lights gleaming off the beryllium steel mask offered the only break in the blackness. Making the final preparations, Destro surveyed his brainchild. His bio-engineers had not failed him this time. The corrosive effects of this contagion were as gruesome as they had promised. A malevolent grin was imperceptible behind the mask as he examined the relevant data on the screen. And with words only loud enough to be heard under his own breath, Destro felt his destiny coming to fruition, "Finally, the forces of good will cower at my feet. Clan Destro will rise, and a new world order will reign in glory. Finally we will have our revenge."

    Motioning to the Viper seated to his right, Destro set the countdown running. It wouldn't be long now.

* * * * * * * *

    "The projectile is ready, sir," the Viper intoned, finger poised over the glowing red button.

    "It is time for the world to feel my wrath," Destro beamed, "Initiate the Launch!"

    The finger depressed the button and. nothing happened! Frantically the Viper re-depressed the button in rapid succession to no avail. Beads of sweat accumulated on the Viper's brow, although not apparent behind his steel visor.

    "What is the delay?" Destro ordered, his irritation mounting. This was his moment of glory. He had no intention of waiting a moment longer. "Initiate The Launch!" Destro's tone demonstrated his anger and annoyance.

    "It's. It's. not, uh, working. sir." the Viper trailed off as Destro approached his chair.

    "You incompetent fool!" Destro bellowed as he forcibly removed the Viper from his seat, throwing him across the room in a violent thrust. The Viper' s head smacked against a console. His helmet cracked in two and his body slumped to the ground, as a faint trickle of blood began to puddle on the floor. Turning to the next Viper who was cowering in fear while staring at his murdered comrade, Destro calmly ordered "Fix it."

    The Viper rose and turned. Suddenly there was a swift "whoosh" sound of disturbed air and a shocking "thud" as the Viper was impaled by a make-shift javelin. The improvised weapon skewered him through the middle, the force of the impact sending his now lifeless body tumbling into Destro, almost knocking him off his feet. Shocked and stunned, Destro stumbled to regain his balance, all the while surveying the shadows for the assassin. Things were going terribly wrong; either their was a malign influence at work within his own contingent of soldiers, or someone was out to sabotage his master plan. But before he could zero in on the perpetrator, the whole room broke into a frenzied turmoil. Vipers and scientists were running around in a crazed panic as smoke began emanating from the lab where the virus was contained. The fact that they had all been inoculated seemed to escape them as the survival instinct kicked in. There was not a single soul in the room with the exception of Destro who was not caught up in the hullabaloo, and before Destro could even think of trying to re-establish control, the shots rang out.

* * * * * * * *

    Alpine gave Lady J the "thumbs up" sign of approval after her masterful shot with the mickey-moused javelin. She grinned in return as they both remained motionless in the shadows waiting for the signal. It was only a few moments before Ripcord and Gung-Ho's smoke diversion set the room into hysterics. Jumping from their cover of darkness, Lady J and Alpine began firing at everything with a metal face or mask, felling Vipers and scientists by the dozen, while remaining wary of their surroundings. The Cobra's had been inoculated against this plague, but they had not; blasting open vials would certainly not be a prudent gesture on their part.

    Lady J did her best to carry out her part of the mission, but she was worried about Flint. Between shots, she scanned the room for him, but found no trace. She had voiced concern in their impromptu briefing about his role in the plan, but he disregarded it. She knew he felt that as their CO he should be the one to try to face down Destro, but Lady J didn't favor Flint' s chances in single-combat against Cobra's weapons supplier. It's not that Flint wasn't a brilliant soldier; against just about any other member of this terrorist organization, the show-down would be no contest, but she always saw Flint as more of a tactician than a foot-soldier. Destro was a man of honor, but he certainly wasn't immune to using any and all means to gain an advantage. She just hoped that Flint could get the upper hand on him quickly.

* * * * * * * *

    Flint surreptitiously worked his way around behind Destro. Using the smoke and shadow, he maneuvered around machinery to disguise his approach and worked his way to within striking distance. With Destro distracted by all the hurly-burly, Flint had his chance, not only to curb this vile Cobra threat, but to get his hands on one of the Cobra biggies in the process, forcing him out of the game for good. Launching from behind a console, Flint's boot connected solidly with Destro's steel mask. Flint felt the sting of leather on metal and he cringed at the jolt, but the blow was enough to knock Destro off his feet, and as quickly as he had struck, Flint had Destro pinned to the ground. With his left knee firmly jutting into Destro's chest and right foot securing Destro's arm to the floor, Flint drew his side-arm and targeting it, arms extended, right between Destro's eyes.

    Flint could see those eyes glaring at him from behind the mask and Destro's labored breathing hinted at his utter shock and anger at the situation in which he now found himself, but he sat in silence. The commotion surrounding them was intense as the battle raged between Joes and Cobras - bullets were flying, bodies were wrestling and grunting - but at this moment Flint could hear nothing but Destro's fevered breath. long, full breaths, acknowledging defeat, if only momentarily, but prepared for vengeance. And as Flint absorbed the rhythmic gasps, he became aware of his own breathing and the ticking away of time. He knew he could not keep Destro pinned down for long. he needed to put him out of action. get him into some kind of custody so he could help the rest of the Joes. And with that thought, he was jarred into a more acute awareness of the battle around him. Lady J. his mind focused on the object of his desire and he became cognizant of his pronounced worry; he strained to hear some sign of her voice. some hint that she was OK.

    Destro began to sense Flint's growing distraction and began to squirm a bit under his hold. In an instant, Flint realized Destro's attempt to wriggle free and his focus shot back to his captive, but in that same instant, Flint heard a cry. a wail. a scream of absolute terror and pain. and the tone was unmistakable. "Lady J." Flint turned to the source of the sound.

    In that flash of worried distraction, Destro spun out from beneath Flint, fist swinging as he rose, catching the Joe CO square in the head, knocking him forcefully to the floor. "Sentimental Fool!" Destro accused as he approached Flint who was cradling his head in pain while trying to regain his composure. Destro, towering over him, grinned maliciously as he delivered one swift kick to the gut to accentuate his victory. Flint doubled over; he was aware only of the pain and Destro's bellowing laugh mocking him as he make his escape.

* * * * * * * *

    Reeling in pain not only from the blows, but also from the realization of what just happened, Flint rose to face his comrades. The smoke was beginning to clear and the battle was subsiding. The floor was strewn with the bodies of the defeated - Cobra minions now released from their obligations to their cause would now have to face their fates on a higher plane. They had won this round.

    Flint's teammates were coming to his aid, and he scanned their faces for Lady J. The last thing he remembered was hearing her agonized cry. She was the first one to his side, a look of concern and endearment on her face. Part of him felt an immense sense of relief to see her unscathed, but a growing sense of guilt was overwhelming him. She represented his defeat - a symbol of his failure. Looking at her he realized that his feelings for her had been the factor that led to Destro's escape - his lapse of focus derived from his concern for her safety had given Destro the second he needed to get the upper hand.

    "Flint." Lady J looked him in the eyes, her own sense of worry and fear apparent in her visage. She reached for him, trying to gauge the extent of his injuries.

    Flint felt disgusted with himself. Without even an acknowledging glance, he turned from her to face the rest of his team. He was grotesquely aware of the obvious fact that they had succeeded in every facet of their mission and he had failed. Lady J stood before him as an ominous representation of that failure. At this point, all he really wanted to do was get back to base and put this whole debacle behind him.

    "Gentlemen," Flint began, noticeably omitting any recognition of Lady J, "you've proved yourselves to be real heroes today. The world will probably never know the fate you saved them from." The pangs of guilt were growing. They had all done their jobs. here he was beaten and bloody, and he had let Destro get away. "Now let's find a way to get the hell out of here and back to base."

    Flint turned to leave the room, aware of the murmurs between the team members behind him. All knew something was out of kilter with their CO, but no one debated the order to go home.

______________________________________________________

Continued in Part Seven!
Back to Dani's Fics!
Back to Authors Page!