September 9th

What a day.

What a fight!

Roadblock, Duke are all sitting in a clearing waiting for extraction. Although the mission turned out a little differently than expected, we managed to come out of it bruised but alive.

From the moment we touched down on the island it seemed the fates were against us. Roadblock ended up being dragged away from us when the wind caught his chute, and though I wanted to help him, Duke called me off. Thank god he did because it was at that point that we spotted the patrol.

We tried to take them out quietly but unfortunately they weren’t so easy to kill. In fact, they weren’t even human. They were BATS.

Ugh. I hate BATS. They are like something out of Terminator II, androids programmed to destroy. Too sci-fi for my taste, and given the fact that they are very VERY hard to destroy, I would rather face and army of humans than one of COBRA’s robot troopers.

As it was, one of those things damn near killed me. If it wasn’t for Duke I would have gotten my head blown off for sure. Needless to say, I didn’t listen to him when he told me to get the hell out and decided in my wisdom to shove a grenade into the bot’s body while Duke was wrestling it. Instead of the heroic move I thought it would be, I got a pistol butt to my head and fell gracelessly into the swamp.

Damn grenade! Never trust one to have the proper fuse length. Did the trick in the end, although I have one heck of a bump on my noggin’ for my troubles.

It is starting to ache like a bitch too.

Ah well…things went from bad to worse after that. Our exercise in ‘stealth’ recon was given away by that little tousle, and with no cover in the marsh that surrounded the COBRA citadel we became sitting ducks.

At least Roadblock made his way back to us. Alive and grinning like a fool he blew away the BATS that had us pinned.

Roadblock is one of the nicest people I have ever met. He is a huge man, imposing and strong as a bull…but inside that muscle bound exterior beats a heart of gold. Sweet, good-natured, loyal and just an all round likeable character, he and I hit it off early on. I really enjoy working with him. There isn’t anyone I would rather have watching my back.

In fact, I am leaning against him right now as we wait for Wild Bill. I was feeling dizzy and although I didn’t mention a thing to anyone, I think he sensed something was up and plunked himself down next to me, offering me some of his rations.

Rations! Yeah, right…Roadblock is one hell of a cook…and sure enough he had a supply of his world famous brownies stuffed in his pack.

I am a very picky eater. In fact other than the occasional chocolate/ice- cream/cookie binge, I hardly ever eat. You should have seen me before I joined the army…I was like a beanpole! I gained weight since then, all muscle of course, and it has resulted in what Flint likes to call ‘one hell of a sexy bod’.

Anyhow, I digress…

No matter how picky I can be…I always pig out on Marvin’s cooking. I have been to some of the best restaurants in both North America and Europe, and I know that if he decided to go into the business after he retires from the military he would definitely blow a lot of them off the map.

Duke is watching me from across the way, his expression unreadable. Conrad is a wonderful commander, I have worked with him before but this is the first time he has hand picked me for one of his small strike forces. I can see now why his men always say they would follow him to the grave if he so asked.

He is selfless, brave, and always has a word of encouragement or praise for his men. He can be harsh with his orders but he would never command you to do something he wasn’t fully capable and willing to do himself

Duke, Roadblock and Flint go way back. The three of them have served together for years, and have remained close to this day. They are all so different, yet their personalities never clash…well at least Flint and Roadblock’s don’t. Marvin tends to act as a nice buffer against Dash’s macho arrogance, bringing a little common sense and heart to the Warrant Officer’s laissez fair attitude.

Duke, on the other hand…well…it just seems that the two of them are always at the very brink of ripping each other to shreds. At least Flint is. There seems to be some sort of rivalry going on that I have yet to grasp.

I know that Conrad always seems to be one step ahead of Dash. Whether it be rank or promotion. He even got chosen to the Joe team before him. Duke is better loved by the other Joes, and although they respect and trust Flint, I am sure they are a bit put off by his attitude…and his tendency to blow off his mouth.

Night and Day. The dark haired party-boy versus the blond ‘boy scout’. The melancholy scholar versus the varsity jock. Chaos versus Control.

Duke never seems to get into trouble, always doing the right thing. He always knows exactly what to say, never putting his combat boot in his mouth like a certain beret-clad Warrant Officer that we all know. Even drunk he manages to keep his nose clean.

It drives Flint insane.

I know. I hear all about it…usually delivered at a very high volume while he paces around the room gesturing madly in the air.

I also know that the two of them had an argument just before we took off on this mission. I caught the end of it purely by chance, having come by to get tell the sergeant the team was ready to go. I heard Flint’s voice say my name and something about Duke using me to make a point.

God…I wanted to kill him! Was that what he thought? That Duke chose me for the team just to egg him on? Did the man think NOTHING of me as a soldier? If I wasn’t just about to leave I would have kicked Flint in the groin right then and there.

As it was, I left him with a sharp word and an angry glare.

I would still be fuming if Duke hadn’t come up to me after we took off to tell me quietly that Flint was worried sick about me going on this mission. That was why he was angry with him…he was trying to protect me.

I frowned and told Duke point blank that Flint had better get over it. I am as much a soldier as he is.

Duke smiled and said that he agreed…that was why he chose me for this gig. He did add, as he turned off to speak with Stalker, that Flint is allowed to worry, and so should he in fact…’cause Dash swore he would kill him if he lost me.

Sigh*

Flint. You are an idiot. A sweet idiot and I love you…but you are an idiot nonetheless.

I am looking up at Duke. There is something there that I am not getting. There is definitely more to that conversation between them that meets the eye. I wonder if I will ever know what the hell is going on between those two.

I can just make out Duke smiling and nodding at me in the dark of the Island…a silent pat on the back for a job well done. The mission was difficult, but I think I held my own and Duke just confirmed it for me. Even though the Island was abandoned by COBRA, we had Firefly and his brainwashed ninjas to deal with…not to mention a veritable army of BATS.

To tell you the truth, however, I doubt any of us would be alive right now if it wasn’t for Snake Eyes. He pretty much single handedly saved the day. The man is an incredible fighter…and although I put Ninjas somewhere near Battle Android Troopers on my list of pet peeves, I admit that I am grateful he is with us.

He is on watch somewhere along the perimeter. You would be hard pressed to spot him, but he is there. His presence is reassuring. Who knows how many BATS are left half functional (and fully-deadly) in the waters of the marsh. I stepped on one earlier and it nearly killed me.

Poor man. I know he is very worried about Scarlett. So am I, in fact…I hope she is ok.

Those two never seem to catch a break.

Just thinking about that, I suddenly feel a deep aching longing to be with Dash. I hope the chopper gets here soon. My head hurts, I am dizzy, I am tired…and I need his arms around me.

Sure…I’m a soldier…but as Dash once said to me when we stood alone on the beach in Grenada, sometimes the toughest soldier needs a comforting embrace, a shoulder to cry on, a friend to hold you up when you felt like you were spiraling out of control…

"But comfort me, my love, now the fires are low, Now I am broken to earth like a winter destroyed, and all Myself but a knowledge of roots, of roots in the dark that throw A net on the undersoil, which lies passive beneath their thrall" (Lawrence)

That’s Flint for you…every so often that brash soldier lets his guard down and you get a rare glimpse of the poet within.

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