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IN THE BEGINNING
BY: DIANA M.

Chapter Four

  Duke stepped out onto the tarmac at the USAF Fighter Weapons Squadron school. It was a clear bright day, and the sun bore down. It heated the asphalt to oven like temperatures, and he could feel himself begin to sweat through the shirt of his dress greens. Next time Hawk sends me after troops, he thought, it damn well better be in November. He stepped over to a yellow-shirt winding up a fuel hose.

  “I’m looking for a Captain Bradley Armbruster, troop. They said he was training today.” Duke took off his beret and wiped his sweating brow.

  “You bet, Top.” Duke was slightly taken aback; he wasn’t yet used to his new rank. He resisted the urge to rub the new stripes on his shoulder. The yellow shirt pointed up, “Captain Armbruster took some guys up a little while ago, but the exercise should be over soon.”

  Duke shielded his eyes and glanced up to see the Aggressors in action. It was a rare sight. Few pilots had the skill or tenacity to make it to the school. This Armbruster was the senior instructor. That alone spoke volumes about his ability. Hawk wanted Armbruster like a dope fiend wanting a hit. But he had warned Duke that it might not be easy. Duke resolved to himself not to leave the field without Armbruster. The F-16s above finished their exercise and maneuvered for landing. Duke straightened his tie and replaced his beret. The F-16’s came in one at a time; yellow and green shirts hustling to aid the pilots as they parked and jumped out. The yellow shirt Duke had been talking to grabbed a pilot by the shoulder and pointed in Duke’s direction. Whatever he was saying was lost in the din of the jet engines. The pilot strode over to where Duke was standing.

  “I hear you’re looking for me, Top,” Armbruster tossed his helmet from one hand to the other. He was young and confident looking. It had been Duke’s experience in ‘Nam that all flyboys had tremendous egotistical passions; they all loved themselves. Armbruster looked no different.

  “Yes, Captain,” Duke held out the large brown envelope he had taken from the top of the pile. It had taken two days for Duke and Hawk to compile them, “I have here your new orders. Get packed and come with me.”

  Armbruster frowned as he looked at the envelope in Duke’s hand. He turned an angry aye to Duke, “I don’t know about you grunts, but in my outfit, we respect an officer. I see no salute. I hear no ‘sir’. And your TELLING me to get packed and follow you?”

  Duke had expected this. He had warned Hawk about it when he noticed Armbruster’s rank when reading his file. Hawk had smiled knowingly, “Whether he likes it or not, Duke, he’s going to have to follow your orders. Rank be damned. In G.I. Joe, you’re the man in charge. Regulation-wise, its a mess. Experience wise, well, it makes sense. I trust you. You can get Armbruster.” Duke sighed to himself. He COULD have been Captain. Had he accepted the promotion, he COULD have gotten Armbruster’s ass in gear quick. Then again, Duke didn’t need to be an officer to get a man to do what he wanted. A good sergeant knows how to control people.

  Duke removed his sunglasses and glared down at Armbruster. He had a good two inches on the man. He was quite a bit bulkier, too. Pilots ran on the slim side, which made for an easier fit in those computer crammed jets, “Listen, kid. I don’t care what you think you do in your candy-ass high in the sky outfit. You have new orders. I’m giving you your new orders. You WILL follow your new orders, and that means you’ll pack your miserable shit and come with me off base. And if you don’t, you’d damn well better HOPE you’re little officer tantrum will get you through when the PENTAGON comes down on your ass. Then, you might want to PRAY you don’t run into me later when I’m off duty and in a bad mood. I’m respecting you being an officer right now by not ripping out your idiot tongue and strangling you with it.”

  Armbruster’s mouth hung open in shock. Several trainees gathered around and watched the dressing down in amazement. No one had ever seen a sergeant bust a captain before, “Shut your fool trap, boy. The flies will get in.” Duke reached over and shoved the envelope down the front of Armbruster’s flight suit. He turned crisply on his heel and walked off the tarmac.

  Duke was sitting in an empty recreation room sipping a club soda half an hour later. He heard the door softly open as Armbruster came in. Duke didn’t bother getting up. Armbruster slowly sank down in an armchair across form Duke. He had changed into khakis. He held the envelope, now ripped open, and stared with amazement at Duke, “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

  “I don’t kid, Captain,” Duke set his soda down and leaned forward, “Its all going down. We needed a top pilot. You’re the best we could find.”

  “And these new jets. I’d get to fly these?” Armbruster waved the spec sheet at Duke.

  “The skystrikers aren’t even finished yet. Kid, you’ll be testing them. ‘Course, you’ll have to share ‘em with your team mates,” Duke had figured including a spec of the all new, state of the art jets would work as bait.

  “Who are?”

  “You’ll meet them soon. You’re my first. I want you testing jets by tomorrow.”

  “How soon can we leave?”

  Duke smiled as he picked up his glass and took a slow sip, “That depends upon how fast you can pack, Captain Armbruster.”

  Armbruster returned Duke’s smile, “It’s Ace, Top, and I put my bags in your jeep fifteen minutes ago.”

  Duke laughed and stood up, “Call me Duke, or I WILL kick your ass.”

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  Duke had left Ace at the new base, happily testing the fighters. Already, he had noticed a few bugs that needed attention. Duke was satisfied with the man. He was a skilled pilot, a throught test-pilot, and a damn good poker player. Duke made a mental note to schedule another game and win his fifty bucks back.

  Duke braced himself as the jeep bounced over another rut. The dirt road that wound through the Sierras was rough, to say the least. He’d been on it a few hours, but his rear felt more like it had been days. Jeeps weren’t built for comfort. Luckily, he was almost there.

  The road twisted into the trees and snaked through a small canyon. Duke brought the jeep to a stop as he came to a small log cabin in clearing. He shut off the engine and slid out, brushing dust from his uniform. He walked towards the cabin, but new it was empty by the time he had reached the front door. He turned around and with his eyes, searched the clearing for signs of life.

  “Come on, Snake Eyes. You knew I was coming since my jeep hit that there dirt road. Don’t make me think you’ve turned inhospitable since the last time I saw you,”

  A dark shape dropped from the trees and walked towards Duke. He wore full cammo gear, and had a large shotgun slung over his shoulder. Duke noticed what looked like a katana slung over his back. Good Ol’ Snake Eyes. Armed to the teeth.

  They shook hands and slapped each other on the back. Snake Eyes opened the door to his cabin and they both went inside. Inside it was warm and dusky. The sunlight filtered weakly through the few windows, and it was too early for a lantern. Being so far away from the nearest city meant conserving every drop of fuel. Duke figured Snake Eyes lived mostly by the light of the sun and the roughly hearthed fireplace that also served as oven and heater.

  Snake Eyes hung the shotgun and sword on pegs on the wall. Those and a Japanese scroll were the only decoration. Duke examined the scroll closely, but his studies in written Japanese weren’t advanced enough to translate. “I’d heard you’d gone to Japan, Snakes. Must’ve been a kick,” Duke turned around to see Snake Eyes sitting in a roughly hewn chair, “I guess you pretty much figure why I’m here. It wasn’t easy. You pretty much disappeared after you came back from the land of the rising sun. It took a bit, but I found you, Snake Eyes.”

  Snake Eyes indicated for Duke to sit on the bunk across the room. It too, was put together from wooden poles and rope. Green army-issue blankets covered the rough mattress. From the smell, Duke figured it had been stuffed with hay, “You’re living rough these days, Snakes.” Snake Eyes eyed him quietly, waiting. Duke pulled out the orders and tossed it to him, “How ‘bout coming back to society for a while?”

  Snake Eyes opened the envelope and scanned his orders quickly. When he was finished, he refolded them neatly and slid them back into the envelope. He looked questioningly at Duke.

  “No, Snakes, you weren’t on the original roster. I put you on,” Duke pointed at the envelope in Snake Eyes’ hand, “I still remember some of the amazing shit you did in ‘Nam. I knew this was the assignment for you. It was insane tracking you down. Lucky you still pick up your vet checks.” Snake Eyes turned his gaze through a window to the forest outside. Duke got up to stand behind him, “I heard about your family, man. I’m sorry. I know how you feel. It was rough losing my dad. I can’t imagine losing everyone.”

  Snake Eyes drummed his fingers on the arm of his chair, lost in thought. Duke leaned against the exposed log wall and watched him. Snake Eyes was a complex man. Way back in ‘Nam, he was hard to figure out. Now, after coming back to find his parents and twin mowed down by a drunk driver with a death wish, after disappearing to Japan and leaving all trace of himself to flutter in the winds of uncertainty; what kind of man was he? Duke remembered an honest, friendly man. Easy to like and trust. ‘Nam was enough to twist a man. Snake Eyes had been through the unimaginable, twice or more. Duke hoped there was enough sanity left to work with.

  Snake eyes tossed the envelope on his bed, leaned back in his chair, closed his eyes, and sighed. Duke cleared his throat, “Listen, I hate to call in a favor, but I need you on this team. I pulled you out of that stinking tiger cage. I hauled you half dead across a rice paddy or two. I’m hoping that if I G.I. Joe gets into trouble, you’ll be there to do the same for me.”

  “Duke,” Snake Eyes spoke without raising an eyelid, “when I heard that stinking old jeep groaning up my road, and saw it was you, I knew come tomorrow, this cabin would be deserted.”

  Duke smiled and clasped Snake Eyes’ shoulder. Now there were three Joes

*******************************************


  “Well, Duke, How did it go?” Hawk looked up from a stack of paperwork as Duke stepped into his office.

  “No major problems, sir. Ace tried to pull rank, as I expected, but he crumbled pretty quick. Two things all solders are afraid of. Their mamas and their drill sergeants. No way I could match his mama, but I do the drill sergeant pretty well.”

  Hawk chuckled, “I’ll bet you do,” he waved towards a chair, “have a seat.”

  Duke slipped easily into the chair and relaxed, “Thank you sir. Its been a rough couple of days.”

  “I’m still unsure about this Snake Eyes, Duke. From what his file says, he’s a stack of dynamite ready to blow. Are you sure we need that kind of liability?”

  “Snake eyes is one of the best, sir. I understand your concerns. And I admit; he’s dangerous. Who knows what’s going on in his head? But I doubt he’ll go off. He’s more like a naked knife in a dark drawer. You don’t want to bump into him while you’re feeling around, that’s all.”

  “What about this blank spot. You say he was in Japan?”

  “Yes sir. It seems he’s been studying martial arts from the masters. Picked up a truckload of new hand-to-hand skills. I sparred with him when we got back to the new headquarters,” Duke rubbed his arm as he remembered, “I don’t think I’ll do that again for a while. He’s faster then I remember.”

  “So you think he’s a benefit.”

  “Without doubt, sir. If we can harness all that energy and aggression he’s been building up, we’ll have one Hell of a commando.”

  “Very well, Duke, I trust your judgment. Who are you going for next?”

  “Freidstadt and Gambrello. Should be a milk run. Might even have time to get Graves.”

  “Excellent. Carry on, troop.”

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Continued in Chapter Five!
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