RAGNAROK
BY: ANNIEO

Chapter Four
One Moment & One Hope

From panic, pride, and terror,
Revenge that knows no rein,
Light haste and lawless error,
Protect us yet again.
Cloak Thou our undeserving,
Make firm the shuddering breath,
In silence and unswerving
To taste Thy lesser death!

Ah, Mary pierced with sorrow,
Remember, reach and save
The soul that comes to-morrow
Before the God that gave!
Since each was born of woman,
For each at utter need --
True comrade and true foeman --
Madonna, intercede!

E'en now their vanguard gathers,
E'en now we face the fray --
As Thou didst help our fathers,
Help Thou our host to-day!
Fulfilled of signs and wonders,
In life, in death made clear --
Jehovah of the Thunders,
Lord God of Battles, hear!
Kipling

* * * * * * * *

    The banquet hall was alit in color. The music played by the live band filtered about and intertwined with the din of voices gossiping and the sounds of crystal stemware. Officers in dress uniform, mingled with people in their best finery, some watching those brave enough to take the dance floor. Sarah smiled politely, nodding to those she knew as she meandered through the crowd and attempted to spot her employer’s return.

    Her dark green gown seemed contrast to the near-neon colors that the other women favored, as did the dark brown color of her hair. Many other women were dying their hair to brighter, more vibrant colors, as if it would offset the depressing shadows that lurked just beyond their next breath.

    As if any of them actually take notice of anything aside from what time the next party is. She thought to herself as she watched those on the dance floor twirl in a blur of color. What’s worse, most of them don’t even care.

    In truth, she hated attending these functions. For one, she found them daunting. Second, the way the few privileged flaunted that they had the power and money to support such a frivolous gathering while so many starved or froze in the dark city infuriated her. However, as the Baroness’ personal assistant, she was required to attend, and, she admitted grimly, it was a good way to gather information. She had discovered long ago that the gossip among the well-to-do was more true than not. She turned from the couples upon the dance floor to catch sight of the Baroness returning from wherever it was Destro’s guards had summoned her to. One look told Sarah it wasn’t good. She quickly made her way through the crowd to the woman’s side, grabbing a flute of champagne as she passed one of the many servants bearing trays of drinks.

    The Baroness smiled and nodded greetings to one of the many generals that bowed to her as she moved through the crowd. She caught Sarah’s eye and motioned inconspicuously to one of the less crowded corners of the room, occupied only by a group of chittering women. “Destro knows more than we thought,” she said softly once the two women were sufficiently out of earshot of the gossipers. She took a sip of the campaign Sarah offered. “He’s managed to get to some of the teams.”

    “What!?” Sarah gasped, looking startled before quickly composing her expression back into the pleasant smile more appropriate for the party. “Do ya know which teams?” she asked, her eyes begging. “My family…”

    The Baroness shook her head. “No, no, it wasn’t them. Destro would do more than gloat if he managed to get to one of the remaining Joes.” She fell silent and smiled pleasantly at some passing guests, and then continued. “He does however, have Mark.”

    “Oh no…Galvin? Clair?”

    “Clair’s on the move. Galvin’s dead.”

    Sarah closed her eyes for a moment, saying a silent prayer. “How many... did he hit?”

    “I know of four teams. Mark was the only one taken alive.” She glanced over and saw Destro enter the room, and spot them. As the masked man began to move through the crowd towards them, she said quickly with a perfectly neutral expression, “He survived the session tonight, but he won’t live much longer. I must think about this, and quickly.”

    Sarah nodded. “I know what I need to do.”

    “Ladies.” Destro bowed in greeting to them as he intruded upon their conversation. “One would wonder why two lovely ladies such as you are hiding in a corner during a wonderful party.” His tone was congenial, but a hint of suspicion laced his words. “Perhaps discussing affairs of state?”

    The Baroness smiled sweetly. “Somewhat, Destro. I was actually giving Sarah final instructions on my needs for the meeting with our esteemed Cobra Commander tomorrow.”

    “Is that so?” His eyes locked on Sarah’s face. She nodded and lowered hers as she was expected to do. “I am sure your assistant,” he stressed the word ever so slightly, hinting of slandering the title, “can manage the remaining preparations alone?”

    “Of course,” Sarah answered, again as she was expected to do in his presence. “I can see to it.”

    “Excellent.” He gripped the Baroness’ elbow, leading her away. “I believe they are playing an Austrian waltz. Care to dance, my dear?”

    “I would be honored Destro,” she cooed. She managed to catch Sarah’s eyes and shift her eyes to the door before she and Destro vanished into the sea of bodies.

* * * * * * * *

    He was freezing, not only in body, but also in spirit. He barely remembered the last few hours, aside from the intense pain as Destro tortured him and then tossed him like a discarded rag back into the dark, damp cell. Bruised and bloody, he couldn’t even remember if he had relented and given any vital information. The drugs fogged his mind beyond comprehensible thought.

    Well big brother, floated up through the haziness in his mind. Looks like I’m not going to be the hero you were.

    He jerked in surprise when he swore he heard someone answer.

    I wasn’t a hero. I just did my job.

    Must be the drugs… Mark told himself as he curled up tighter under the thin blanket they had tossed to him. Either that or I’m cracking up.

    Just stay strong little brother.

    “Yeah,” He mumbled as the darkness closed in, “I’m cracking up.”

* * * * * * * *

    Sarah moved quickly as she could through the darkening streets, she needed to get to the safe house. She hoped beyond hope that some of the teams had managed to gather there, and if they had, she needed to filter them out of the city before Cobra managed to strike again. She silently cursed the fates that had found their way into Cobra Commander’s slimy hands and allowed him to become the fanatical tyrant that now ruled the world in an iron fist.

    After leaving the party, she had gone back to the Baroness’ offices, where she had gone through the motions of working for about forty minutes before going to her apartment. She paid careful attention to her surroundings, making doubly sure she wasn’t being followed, but she couldn’t be absolutely certain. Once there, Sarah quickly changed into the dark, rough clothing much more suitable for moving within the population in the city. She slipped out a dim, hidden passage from the back of her building and had headed out into the night, keeping to the back alleys and shadows when at all possible.

    We saw it coming and didn’t do a thing to stop it either. She chastised herself silently as she made her way down a nearly deserted street. And now were paying a higher price than any of us ever thought possible. She caught the fearful glances thrown in her direction as people skittered away deeper into the shadows as she passed. She ducked into an alley as a large group of troopers emerged from a bar a few buildings up the block and waited as they stumbled past and off down the street, shoving at anyone not fast enough to get out of the way. She took another moment to double check no one was watching her and that no other troopers were coming. With a pounding heart at the near miss, she again began moving towards her objective.

    The safe house was a battered shell of a building, its windows broke and walls barley standing; it was one of the last places a person would choose to call shelter. Those who most often made use of it usually had little choice. Sarah quickly ducked through the door, securing it behind her as she picked her way into the dark bowels of the interior and down the rickety stairs to the basement. She removed a small flashlight from her pouch and it only took a single sweep to determine that no one was using the shelter. That only meant one of two possibilities, either the survivors had considered it unsafe to come here, or, she felt a shudder course through her body, there was no one left to hide. She checked the message canister and small stash of supplies, and was about to leave when the soft creaking of the wooden floorboards overhead pricked her warning senses. Sarah drew herself into the shadows and waited, taking out her small pistol and keeping it ready.

    She stifled a sneeze as a cloud of dust and dirt rained down on her from above. She listened intently to the creaking of the stairs as the intruder fumbled down them. Whoever it is moves like they’re either hurt or exhausted, Sarah determined to herself. She watched as the shape moved into view and stumbled against the wall, barely catching themselves to keep from falling. It was at that moment the former Joe caught sight of the figure’s face, and quickly stuffed her gun into her pouch as she jumped forward to catch the girl that was slowly sliding down the wall to the ground.

    “Help…” she whispered weakly. “Please.”

    Sarah held the exhausted young woman to her and gently brushed her soaked blond hair from her dirty face. “It’s all right, baby... you’re safe now Clair.”

* * * * * * * * *

    The feather light touch of a hand on his shoulder roused Low-Light from his dreamless sleep. He opened his blue eyes to find Snake-Eyes signing that someone was coming towards their camp.

    “How many?” He asked the silent man as he threw back his blanket and grabbed his rifle, glancing at Shane as he did the same.

    “Four,” Snake-Eyes signed. “On motorcycles.”

    Mac nodded and quickly moved into a position behind a rock formation, giving him a clear shot at the path coming to the camp. The sounds of engines became apparent. “Probably ours, but no chances.”

    “Oh good, company.” Michael sneered as Shane forced him to his feet and moved him behind a clump of thick bushes.

    “Shutup.” The boy ordered, jamming his rifle into the Cobra’s face. The man scooted back from the barrel a fraction of an inch. “Don’t think I won’t do it either.”

    “I dare you,” the man hissed.

    Snake-Eyes motioned sharply for silence as the sound of the motorcycles cut off. The crunch of boots on the rock strewn path could be heard coming closer only to stop. The three Joes tensed…waiting with breaths held as the silence hug heavy in the air.

    “Frogs.” A familiar voice called out softly from the shadows.

    Low-Light relaxed his guard slightly before he replied, “In winter.” He watched through the sight of his rifle from his position as Recondo and three others entered the moonlit clearing. “You’re early.” He slung his rifle over his shoulder and moved from his hiding spot. Snake-Eyes emerged from the shadows behind the newcomers.

    Recondo smiled as he stepped forward, holding out his hand to Low-Light, who clasped it in a firm handshake “Yeah, got what we could and high-tailed out before Cobra started searching the city.” He paused, withdrawing his hand. “Did you hear about…?”

    “Yeah, “ Low-Light’s one word answer said it all as his eyes glanced at the others. “Mutt! Long time no see.”

    Mutt nodded in greeting. “Good to be back. Six months is too long to be in that damn city.”

    “Savannah,” Recondo turned to the dark-haired girl behind him. “You and Ethan move the bikes from the open and check the packs.”

    “Right Dad,” the girl acknowledged. The siblings disappeared off into the shadows surrounding the camp.

    “What is this?” Michael sneered as Shane hauled him out and pushed him back down to the ground. “A kindergarten? No wonder we beat you-” His mockery went silent with a grunt as Shane’s rifle butt slammed into his ribs, knocking the air from his lungs.

    “And I told ya to shut up, didn’t I?” Shane growled, threatening with his barrel again.

    “Shane!” Low-light snapped. He waited until he had the boy’s attention. “One more hit and you’ll be the one tied up. Got me?”

    The boy’s blue eyes narrowed in rebellious defiance. “Yeah, I got ya.”

    Mac nodded, deciding to leave it at that. “Go help with the motorcycles.”

    “Yes sir,” Shane spit the words out in contempt as he jogged past his father.

    Snake-Eyes crossed his arms over his chest and watched the boy retreat.

    Mac wheeled on the Cobra. “And you! You keep your mouth shut!”

    Mutt and Recondo exchanged nervous glances as they watched the exchange between father and son, both confirming the other’s worry. The conflict between the two was common knowledge to the Joes, but the extent the rift had exploded was a surprise.

    Later. Recondo silently mouthed behind the sniper’s back. Mutt nodded, glancing to Snake-Eyes who moved his hand in a gesture of agreement. “Duke wanted us in as soon as possible.” Recondo continued. “Lifeline needs the medical supplies yesterday.”

    “Our tour is done anyway,” Mac said as he turned to glare at the prisoner. “’Sides, need to haul this in for questioning.” He jerked a thumb.

    “We should wait until nightfall after the satellite passes.” Snake-Eyes motioned.

    “Agreed.” Recondo replied. “That’ll give us time to rest too.”

    Mutt stood and dusted his hands off on his pants. “In the meantime I’m up for some chow. I’ll go help the kids finish with the motorcycles and grab some C-rations while I’m at it.”

    Recondo dropped wearily onto the log Mutt had vacated. “It’s settled then. We move out tonight.”

* * * * * * * * * *

    “Uplink in five minutes, Duke.” Mainframe called over his shoulder as Duke entered the area they used as a command center. It was a cluttered space, with wires strung like a bad Christmas light job and machines placed haphazardly. The impression was that it had been hastily tossed together, which in part, was true. However, to the Joes it strategically meant it could be quickly broken down and moved.

    Duke nodded as he watched the computer specialist and his team fly about the room as they prepared to uplink with one of the Cobra satellites that the Baroness had managed to copy the access codes for. Duke hated taking the risk of tapping the satellite but there was no other way of communicating with the other teams scattered across the country, aside from sending a messenger, and he couldn’t spare the personnel for that mission.

    “Make double sure the link is secure Blaine. I don’t want anyone tapping in,” Duke ordered as he nodded in greeting to the others gathered there. He silently blessed Snake-Eyes for sending the disk ahead with Timber when he was caught in the badlands with Mac’s team. The wolf had left the instant Duke removed the collar and pouch from the animal’s neck, heading back to his master.

    “No problem Duke.” Mainframe exchanged glances with his assistant and wife, Ann-Marie. “A.M. and I got it covered.”

    The woman snorted as her hands flew across her keyboard. “Only cause I plug the holes you leave Blaine.”

    “Oh very funny Ann.”

    “You love it and you know it, Hacker.”

    Duke smiled slightly at the good-natured teasing between the couple. It seemed out of place to him, and yet it was a relief to see it. Even among those living on the edge, there was a sense of hope. His eyes wandered over the room and caught the tired faces of Dusty and his wife standing off, away from the action, Dusty’s arms protectively around Covergirl. He moved towards them with tired footsteps. “Dusty, Courtney,” he greeted them quietly.

    “Duke,” Dusty nodded a greeting in return. His face was pinched with grief and exhaustion. Courtney didn’t even respond.

    “I just wanted to tell you how sorry I am about Kimberly. If you need to take some time--”

    “No.” Courtney interrupted him, her voice choked. “We know our duty, and too many others need us.”

    “The offer still stands whenever you need it.”

    Dusty nodded silently.

    “Twenty seconds, Duke,” Mainframe called out. “And let’s hope they got good news out there.”

    The screen crackled and the speakers screeched as Blaine and Ann fought to establish a clear signal to the west coast contingent.

    “Damn thing’s gonna fight the whole way,” Ann cursed. “Blaine, give me another boost.”

    Mainframe nodded and his hands flew across his keyboard. “Best I can do, Babe.”

    “It’ll have to do then Hacker.” She concentrated on her screen and suddenly reached out and smacked the receiver with a fist. There was a loud blast of static and the main screen cleared. “Damn I’m good!” She smiled over at her husband. “Time to start playing satellite ping pong.” As one they turned to their keyboards and the task at hand.

    “Com…Duk…hear me?” Dial-Tone’s voice was soon joined by his grinning face as it appeared on the main screen when the static and signal settled. “Hello from the west coast.”

    “Jack, damn good to hear your voice,” Duke returned, nodding in greeting to the others gathered around the communication’s officer. He was relieved to see most of the Joes in the picture. “And see your ugly face.”

    “Like you have room to talk,” Jack teased back with a malicious grin. “How’re things in your neck of the woods?”

    Duke’s face drew tight. “Not good. We’ve lost four teams.”

    “What?!” The startled exclamation was echoed by the others gathered around Dial-Tone, who quickly silenced them with a motion. “Anyone out here that needs to be informed?”

    Duke shook his head. “No, most of them were based here or there is no one left to tell.”

    “Understood.” The channel fell silent for a moment. “Dr. Kay says she’s ready to report Duke.” Jack turned and looked to the petite, dark-haired woman standing behind him. She was one of the many civilians that had found sanctuary with the Joes after Cobra’s overthrow of the government. Duke had lost count of the number of non-combatants that had volunteered to help the Joes after the battle. Many of them wanted by Cobra for the skills they possessed. Dr. Kaylee Ashburn was one such case.

    “Duke,” Kay smiled brightly, her dark brown eyes sparkling with teasing, “good to see you and know that you’re still too stubborn to give into that bastard.”

    Duke chuckled. “Same to you Kay.” He glanced sideways as Ed stepped forward.

    “Eddy,” Kay winked at the other doctor but her smile and teasing disappeared as she caught the tired look on his face. “You’re looking frazzled.”

    Ed nodded. “It’s getting worse out here, Kay. “I’ve lost another six this week alone, the damn fever is eating us alive here.”

    The woman nodded. “In that case let me give you the good news.” Her smile returned as she gestured to someone off camera.

    “We could use some,” Ed replied.

    Kay accepted a bundle and held it up to the camera. “We had a new addition to the camp two weeks ago. Meet Naomi Renee Blais, weighing in at 6 lb 5 oz. and 19 inches long, with a head full of red hair, as you can see.” The sleeping baby shifted her tiny hand and yawned.

    There was a stifled sob from the back of the room among the murmurs of delight at the new arrival. Duke knew it was Courtney.

    Ed grinned, a bit of the weariness leaving his face. “They say that a baby’s birth is God’s way of showing he still has hope in this world. Give Cross-Country cigar for me. How’s Mollie doing?”

    “I’m fine Lifeline,” Mollie Blais answered as she leaned into the camera, taking the baby back from Kay. I swear Rob’s ne’er touchin’ me again.”

    “Poor Rob is nursing a bruised hand.” She chuckled as she handed the baby back. “The man was locked in Mollie’s iron grip for 12 hours.”

    “Tell him to put an ice pack on it, take two aspirin and call me in the morning.” Ed winked.

    “But that’s not all the news I wanted to tell you. Our little Naomi is showing absolutely no signs of the fever. In fact, she is producing antibodies against it.”

    “What?” Ed’s face betrayed his shock. Murmurs of the others floated up from behind. “That’s not possible.”

    “Kay, are you saying what I think you are?” Duke asked, his face pleading for her to affirm his hopes.

    The woman smiled and held up a small vile of liquid. “Gentleman and ladies, may I introduce a little magic potion I concocted while toiling over my cauldron one night.”

    “Kay…you Witch,” Ed said affectionately using her code name as he suddenly found himself wishing he could reach through the screen and grab the vile.

    “It’s still being tested Ed, but as I said Naomi is producing antibodies. I hope to be able to produce more using her blood as a map.”

    Ed nodded slowly, letting it sink in. “It’s still more than I had 24 hours ago Kay. You keep brewing this stuff up,” he smiled, “and I’ll get you a dozen cauldrons.”

    “It’s a deal, Eddy.” She turned slightly. “Ok, this witch is outta here, and Eddy?”

    “Yeah Witch?”

    “I’m your wife, not a witch,” she returned, quoting a line from a old favorite movie. “Good luck.” She smiled one last time before turning the screen over to Mercer.

    Ed sighed and took a step back. “Yeah, I know,” he whispered. Leaving Kay on the west coast was one of the hardest things he’d ever done.

    “Okay, give me the low-down Mercer.” Duke said as Mercer took Kay’s place.

    The ex-Cobra shrugged nonchalantly. “Consider the third battalion out of the picture Duke.”

    Cheers erupted behind Duke, and he waved his hand to silence them. “Any casualties?”

    Mercer smiled coldly. “Not on our side. We had nothing major. Few gun shot wounds, no fatalities.”

    The corner of Duke’s mouth curled up ever so slightly. “Mercer, I owe you a steak if I can ever find one again.”

    “I’ll hold you to that, Duke.”

    “I bet you will. Give your team my congratulations on a mission well done and my thanks.”

    Mercer nodded. “You got it Duke, and good luck to you.” He moved out of the screen’s range, allowing Dial-Tone to retake his place.

    “We’re ready for file transfer when you are Blaine.” Dial-Tone punched a few keys. “Let’s hope these codes are good for a while.”

    Mainframe nodded as he glanced up at the main screen. “There are a few extra goodies for your people to chew on. She managed to get her hands on their encrypt codes.”

    “You’re kidding!” Jack’s face betrayed his eagerness to get his hands on the information. “We can bring down their entire network with those. Oh, we’re gonna love this hacking job!”

    “I know,” Mainframe chuckled, turning back to his screen. “Commencing transfers now.”

    Jack glanced at something above him, off screen. “Uplink is good, files are being received.”

    “Shit!” Ann’s curse cut through the room. “We gotta hound on our tails, Hacker!” Her hands flew frantically over her keyboard. “Thirty seconds and they’ll trace us.”

    “Damn it!” Blaine quickly checked the file progress. “Jack! How long on your end?”

    “Thirty-five seconds for complete transfer!”

    Mainframe and Ann exchanged quick glances. “Ok Babe, time to see how good we really are.”

    “Cut it if you have to,” Duke ordered as he watched the couple work madly. “We can’t afford to be traced.”

    “We might not get another shot at this Duke!”

    “That’s an order Mainframe! I don’t care, there are to many lives here!”

    Blaine nodded curtly, his eyes not leaving his screen. “Understood. Dial-Tone, get ready to cut the link on my mark.”

    “Standing by.” Came Jack’s tense reply. “And in case I miss the chance to say this, stay alive out there, hear me?”

    “We hear you Jack.” Duke answered.

    “Fifteen seconds and they have us,” Ann counted down, her mind working in overdrive. Suddenly she brightened. “Hacker! I have an idea that may buy us another seven or eight seconds!” She exclaimed as her fingers flew across her keyboard. “Remember that old weather satellite?”

    Blaine smiled. “A.M. I love you!”

    “I know.”

    “Your gonna ghost off of it, ain’t ya?” Jack chuckled as he realized what she was doing. “Ann, I’d kiss you if I was there.”

    “I’ll remember that.” She shot back, not looking away from her screen. “Get ready to kill the link Jack.”

    “Standing by. Ten seconds.”

    “Five.”

    “Come on, come on!” Blaine muttered, wishing he could climb into his computer and speed up the transfer. “They almost have us.”

    “Two. Yo Joe!” Dial-Tone yelled.

    “Kill it!” Blaine and Ann shouted in chorus.

    The screens went dark, but one sentence blinked on Mainframe’s monitor.

FILE TRANSFER COMPLETE

* * * * * * * * * *

    “Well?” Cobra Commander demanded.

    “I’m s-sorry sir, but we lost the signal at the last moment.” The man swallowed visibly. “We needed another three seconds to establish a hard trace.”

    The Commander’s eyes narrowed in the eye slits of his hood. “You mean to tell me that with all that equipment you couldn’t complete a minor trace?”

    The TeleViper took an involuntary step back. “It’s not that simple, S-sir. They used our own satellites against us!”

    “Explain.”

    “The disk they stole contained access codes to our communication satellites, sir.” The TeleViper explained hastily. “They managed to piggyback a signal out and they ghosted off several other satellites to hide the signal once it was established. We managed to track them to an old weather satellite before the connection was cut.”

    The Commander drummed his fingers on his desk. “So what your saying is a bunch of Joesss, who are supposed to be dead managed to tap into our satellites with second rate equipment, and then managed to avoid being traced?”

    “Yes sir.”

    The Commander stood and moved to the front of his desk, looming over the TeleViper. “I find your answersss... unacceptable. However I am feeling generous today and will allow you to fight for your life.”

    “Sir, please.” The man pleaded, sweat visible on his face. “I-I have a family!”

    Cobra Commander’s eyes betrayed the cruel smile beneath his hood. “You do? Well then, I’ll sssee they join you in the arena.” He turned to his personal guards and raised a hand. “Take this worthlesss trash away and then collect his entire family. We can’t have more like him walking around now, can we?”

    As the guards moved forward to grab the stunned TeleViper by the arms and began pulling him from the room he cried, “Sir! I’m begging you!” He managed to add before they removed him completely, “Not my family!”

    The Commander regarded the man with cold eyes. “Only the strong may live.” He waved the guards on, his insane laughter echoing in the hall as he was dragged off.

* * * * * * * *

    “There’s four guards at the entry point,” Cammy reported as she and Dustin slinked back into the small, rundown shack the team was using as a hiding spot. “Two in each tower station, four corners. And roving patrols every five minutes.”

    “Dog patrols every fifteen minutes. Security cameras covering most of the yard and perimeter out to the tree line.” Dustin added. “Standard fare. But they still are feelin’ cocky that nobody’ll ever escape. It still ain’t got a fence.”

    Bill leaned back in the rickety chair he occupied and thought for a moment. “Can ya get a shot off?”

    “Are you nuts!?” Clutch exclaimed. “With that amount of security you’d be lucky to…”

    “Shutup!” Bill’s brown eyes narrowed at the man. “Camille?” he asked more gently, then waited for his answer.

    The girl stood silent for a time chewing her lip as she mulled over her chances. “I can get one, maybe two, off before they would get a bead on me.”

    Bill nodded. “Go get into a position that ya can back out of fast and wait for them to transfer Mark out for another session.”

    The girl turned without another word and dug through her pack. Removing her precious night scope, she mounted it on the rifle that her younger brother had handed her. “Thanks Jeb.”

    “You be careful Cammy.” The boy hugged her.

    “That looks like Low-Light’s scope,” Grunt muttered.

    Cammy shot him a glance over Jeb’s head and nodded. “It was. He taught me how to shoot. I will Jeb” She turned and looked at her father giving him a small smile. “See ya soon daddy.” She disappeared into the night.

    Clutch stood in shock for a moment before his anger exploded. “Are you all crazy?!”

    Bill jumped up from his seat and advanced on the man. “I suggest ya hold your tongue. Ya have no idea what’s goin’ on here!”

    “Lance…” Grunt grabbed Clutch’s shoulder.

    “No idea?!” He pushed Grunt’s hand away. “No idea?! You just sent your own kid off to kill someone like it’s an every day thing! What kind of father are you, lettin’ her--”

    The fist slammed into his jaw before he even had a chance to duck it. Clutch staggered back, falling to the hard dirt floor. Shaking his head to clear his senses, he looked up to see Bill standing over him, pistol drawn.

    “I would stop there,” Bill ground out, “an’ keep your opinion to yourself.”

    “Fine.” Clutch pulled himself back up on his feet with the hand Grunt extended. “It’s her blood on your hands if she gets killed out there.”

    Bill lowered his gun. “I know.” He turned and retook his seat, taking off his battered hat and rubbing his forehead. “God Almighty, I know.”

    Clutch silently cursed and his eyes roved the room. They may be content and let the girl go to her death, but he wasn’t. His gaze fell to the rifle that Jeb had carried, now leaning against a table where the boy had left it. He was close enough that if he caught them off guard...

    With a swift movement Clutch had the rifle in hand and dashed out into the darkness.

    “Shit!” Dustin cursed as he raised his own rifle to sight on Clutch’s retreating form. His father’s hand appeared, lowering his barrel to the floor. “Daddy?” he asked, confused.

    “Let him go.” Bill’s voice betrayed his fatigue. “Jus’ let him go.”

* * * * * * * *

    “Are you sure about this?” Sarah asked her employer as they drove out of the city. “It could cause more suspicion towards you.”

    The Baroness nodded. “I know Sarah, but there’s no other way to get Mark out of there short of in a body bag.”

    Sarah chewed her bottom lip and fell silent for a moment. “But to put yourself in a position like this... with Destro... he already suspects something,” she protested.

    “I am aware of his interest in me, and take more caution than you are aware of.” She glanced at Sarah out of the corner of her eye. “What if it was Camille or Bill in there, Sarah?”

    The other woman stared straight ahead at the road and took a deep breath. “I would do my job,” she answered simply.

    “Even if it means sacrificing yourself or them?”

    “Yes.”

    “Then how can I ask less of myself?”

    Sarah nodded. “I understand. I don’t like it, but I understand.” She turned down a dirt road and followed it until she saw the guard house.

    “Good,” the Baroness murmured.

    Immediately a Crimson Guardsman stepped into the center of the road, his weapon raised. He held up a hand to stop the vehicle, and another Guardsman came to the driver’s window. He saluted when he recognized the woman in the passenger seat. “Yes Baroness?”

    “I have come to see a prisoner,” she stated flatly, chuckling silently to herself as her voice automatically fell into the aristocratic tones she used with the troopers. “I have questions the Commander wishes to have answers to.”

    “Yes ma’am.” The guard motioned for the other man to step aside, both saluting as Sarah drove the car by them.

    “I hope this works Alexia.” Sarah whispered.

    “So do I.”

* * * * * * * *

    I have got to be out of my mind. Clutch mentally kicked himself. I’m wandering around in enemy territory, without a clue of where I am goin’, lookin’ for a kid who’s probably a better shot than I am. Yeah, really smart there Lance. He froze when the sound of an engine reached his ears, quickly glancing about to find cover before he was spotted.

    “Get down!” An angry whisper quickly followed by jerk on his wrist, forced him down into a small drainage trench.

    “Cammy?”

    “Quiet!” She ordered. Both laid silent as the car moved past them and continued down the dirt road. Cammy remained still for a few minutes more after the sound of the engine had faded and the sounds of the night returned. Only then did she crawl out of the trench to the tree line. She checked the road before she turned to glare at Clutch. “Are you insane?” she hissed.

    “No more than the rest of you people,” Clutch shot back.

    Cammy snorted and reshouldered her rifle. “Go back. I don’t need your help. I know what I gotta do”

    Clutch stood his ground. “Sorry kid. I can’t do that.”

    “Fine,” Cammy shrugged as if she didn’t care, but she was lying to herself. “Jus’ don’t get in my way.”

* * * * * * * *

    Mark stirred as voice penetrated his mind. He fought to open his eyes against the gritty goop that pasted them shut. Damn, he thought to himself, it wasn’t a nightmare. He could hear the guards outside his cell and the familiar clanging and creaking of the lock as the guard turned the key. Oh good, visitors. He shook his head to clear it. Man, you are loosing it Armbuster.

    “I don’t know how the Commander expects you to get information out of that, Mistress.”

    Sarah?! What the hell? Mark’s mind suddenly seized the small piece of sanity that it had left as the woman’s voice filtered through. It gave him something he didn’t expect: hope.

    “I know. It is a pity that Destro was so rough on him last time.”

    The Baroness? What is going on?

    “Bring him into the yard. I think a trip to the stocks for a bit will loosen his tongue.” She said with a wave of her hand.

    “Yes, Baroness.” A guard intoned as he and another guard moved forward to roughly haul Mark off the pallet and drag him to his feet. He stumbled forward out into the shadow-incased hallway.

    Oh good. Mark thought to himself. Fresh air.

    The cold air of the night slammed into Mark like a fist in the gut. The thin coveralls did little to protect him from the chilling wind that now battered his tortured body. He remained limp in the grip of the guards as they pulled him across the courtyard and towards the old-fashioned stocks. He knew that the Baroness and Sarah had followed, he could hear their footsteps squishing in the mud behind him, and he couldn’t help but wonder why they were risking their lives for him. Then the reason hit.

    Code Delta! His mind screamed as insane laughter trickled through it. Destro you bastard! You lose!

* * * * * * * * *

    Cammy shifted in the perch she chosen in the shadows of the trees, lining up a clear shot of the courtyard of the detention center. She quickly checked her rifle and scope again before glancing down at the man in the bushes below. She couldn’t bring herself to believe it was the Clutch she knew, and because of that she couldn’t understand why he head refused to return to the shack. This wasn’t his fight, why should he care what happens to a kid that he didn’t know? She mentally shrugged and resettled into position, prepared to wait as long as necessary to do her duty. To her surprise, her wait wasn’t long. About fifteen minutes later, the door to the cell block opened and two guards dragged Mark out into the open. Cammy straightened up, taking a deep breath and sighted. “Forgive me, Mark,” she whispered. Within her crosshairs, Mark’s drooped head centered. She held her breath as Low-Light taught her and squeezed off the shot.

    Just as the recoil of her rifle popped against her shoulder, the near guard tripped and fell slightly forward. He jerked at the impact of the bullet, losing his hold on Mark and fell face down with a spray of mud.

    Mark felt the pressure of the one guard’s hands drop from his arm at the same moment as the echo of the gunshot hit his mind. The other guard immediately released his other arm and he weakly tumbled to the muddy ground. Mark lay still, his eyes squeezed shut, waiting for the bullet with his name on it.

    Cammy gasped, and her eyes went wide, not because her shot missed its target, but because suddenly saw someone she didn’t expect. Shit! Mom! What is this? A rescue?

    She stared, paralyzed for several moments before Clutch’s harsh whisper penetrated her mind. “Cammy! Take another shot!”

    Seconds ticked by and nothing happened. Mark could hear the sounds of alarm beginning around him. Suddenly, he grasped a thought: Maybe it’s a rescue! Ok Armbuster get your ass up and run! If you’re gonna die, make them work for it! He forced his body to move and found his hand clutching a sidearm that belonged to the dead guard. Without thinking he turned and fired a shot, hitting the other guard at almost point-blank range. The man doubled over and dropped to the ground like a rock. Please let this work. He spun and aimed.

    Sarah startled as both guards were struck dead, one by sniper fire and the other by Mark. Oh God! Duke what did you do?! She pulled out her own gun and forced the Baroness down to better protect her from any stray fire. “Duke called a Delta!” She whispered in her ear. She waited for the finial shot that she knew would come to kill Mark, as more troopers ran out of the barracks. She felt the hot path of the bullet tear into her hip and she cried out in pain as she toppled back from the impact. She vaguely remembered Mark reaching down and hauling the Baroness to her feet and using her a shield. Sarah found herself wondering if she would ever see her children or husband again.

    What the hell is he doing!? Cammy’s mind screamed as Mark raised his pistol and shot her mother then grabbed the Baroness and used her as a hostage. A voice from somewhere in her mind answered, Whatever it is it might work Cammy so play along. She quickly laid down cover fire, taking out troopers that dared to get to close to Mark as he moved towards the treeline. “I need help with cover fire!” She yelled down at Clutch. “Take out the tower guards!”

    Clutch took aim and brought down the two troopers in the closest tower, then turned his attention to the courtyard. As the Cobras succumbed to the barrage of gunfire that rained down upon them, he heard Cammy scrambling in the tree above him and then the thump of her feet hitting the ground. Bullets began to rip through the foliage above her head.

    “We gotta move.” She ordered even as she headed deeper into the trees.

    “I ain’t arguing,” Clutch agreed as he backed up and followed her.

    “I don’t know what the hell’s going on,” she turned towards the sounds of something or someone crashing through the bushes. She set and leveled her rifle just in case. “But were about to find out.”

    Two forms broke through the brush, one supporting the other. “Camille?” The Baroness’ relieved look quickly changed to shock when she spotted who was covering them from behind the girl. “I see you found them.”

    Clutch grinned, lowering his weapon. “They found us actually, but we can talk later.” He stepped forward to take Mark from the Baroness and handed her his rifle. “Let’s get outta here.”

    Mark looked blearily at the man supporting him as they stumbled through the forest. “Hey Lance, long time no see.” He croaked. “Guess this means I’m dead.”

    “Not yet you ain’t, but ya will be if we don’t keep movin’.” He picked Mark up and slung him over his shoulder. “Hang on!”

    “Just shuddup and move it!” Cammy shouted as she spun and laid down cover fire against the troopers that came into sight. “They’re comin’!” She grabbed the Baroness and yanked her on ahead. “Run!”

    They ran hard for five minutes, Clutch still carrying the semi-conscious Mark. Cammy never felt such relief in her life when she saw the shack through the trees. The lead three burst into the small clearing and Cammy relaxed as her family and Grunt poured out of the shack, ready to lay down more cover fire. Almost home free... she told herself, bringing up the rear.

    From nowhere, a sharp double crack echoed through the air, followed by the whistling of a bullet past her ear. She instinctively ducked away, only to have the second bullet tear through material and flesh on entry and exit of her shoulder. Cammy screamed at the blinding pain flaring through her and she went crashing to the ground. She could hear the snapping of twigs beneath the Crimson Guardsman’s boots as he walked over to her, rifle up, covering her. Her rifle just out of her reach, she didn’t make an attempt to grab it. A small sob escaped as she felt the cold steel of the barrel against her temple. Closing her eyes, she murmured, “Sorry daddy,” and tensed.

    “Damn Joe bitch,” he growled. “You’re gonna pay dearly for--”

    She jumped at the report of a rifle, but strangely, didn’t feel any new pain. It was a moment before she realized the pressure on her temple had gone away. She cracked open an eye to find Clutch, rifle in hand, kneeling in front of her. The Crimson Guardsman was sprawled in the brush a few yards beyond her rifle.

    “Cammy! Don’t move baby, okay?” he cautioned as he applied pressure to the bleeding wound.

    “Camille!” Bill raced over and shoved Clutch away. Quickly taking in his daughter’s condition, he ignored Clutch as he picked himself up from the ground.

    “It’s okay,” she insisted, but the tears streaming down her face betrayed her pain. She winced at her father’s prodding exam. “Jus’ get me outta here daddy.”

    The Baroness came up behind Bill. “You need to get going, before they launch the search vehicles.” She turned to Clutch. “Where is Steeler?”

    Grunt joined them. “Back at base. Took a downturn.”

    The Baroness frowned.

    Bill looked up at the woman. “You know them?” he asked.

    “Yes.”

    “Maybe now you’ll trust us.” Clutch suggested.

    “I ain’t quite there yet,” Bill retorted.

    “Bill, I trust them.” The Baroness stated. “I was there. I saw the portal, I watched the others go back. These three decided to stay. Their story is true, they are Joes from another dimension.”

    “Alexia--”

    Dustin’s shout interrupted any further discussion. “Incoming!”

    “Quickly Bill! You know what you need to do.”

    Bill turned to the woman. “Yes,” he said simply. Without warning he raised his pistol, firing a single shot into the Baroness’ arm.

    “What the hell!?” Grunt cried. “Bill, are you insane? She’s on our side!”

    Clutch moved to help her, but she shoved him away. “No,” The Baroness’ voice quavered in pain as she held her arm. “He had to, no other way to cover the escape. Hit me on the head, then go!”

    Clutch blinked, then calmly struck her across the back of her head with his rifle butt. “I don’t like this, but it’s different rules than from home,” he muttered as she slumped to the ground.

    “Let’s move it! On the double!” Bill barked. Quickly the team gathered up, Bill taking Mark and handing his pack to Jeb. “Good luck,” he called softly to the inert form. “Tell my wife I love her.” He watched as Clutch picked Cammy up, cradling her in his arms. They took off and disappeared into the forest.

* * * * * * * *

    The room smelled of greenery and fresh water. The sounds of a trickling waterfall echoed in the background as Lieutenant MacKay entered his employer’s sanctuary. He was one of the few that even knew of the room’s existence within Lord Destro’s home. Even Cobra Commander himself had not been privileged enough to enter the sanctuary. He could hear the sounds of splashing and knew his Lordship was enjoying his daily swim. He stopped at the edge of the pool and waited stood at attention.

    “At ease. Yes Lieutenant?” Destro acknowledged after the man had stood for several minutes in the humid room.

    “Forgive me for disturbing you, Lord Destro,” he apologized as he bowed. “There has been an escape.”

    Destro lazily floated in the water. “Really? How unfortunate. I trust no one was too badly injured?”

    This was not the response MacKay had expected. “The Baroness and her assistant were both injured during the escape, your Lordship. And several Crimson Guardsmen and troopers were killed.”

    “And the prisoner?”

    “Gone, sir. It appears there was a party waiting in the woods.”

    “Pity,” Destro chuckled to himself. “The Baroness plays this game better than I thought.”

    “Sir?” Puzzlement clearly showed on the man’s now sweating face.

    “A simple game of chess Lieutenant. It appears that it is now my move.”

* * * * * * * *

    Mark felt as if he had been dragged through hell by a herd of wild horses. And I probably look it too. He winced as he stretched out aching muscles and tried to settle into a more comfortable position on the bed. The team had arrived at one of the resistance member’s home early that morning and was now taking the risk to catch their breath and treat Cammy’s injury and to let him rest. He couldn’t remember much about the escape aside from seeing the face of a dead man at one point and thinking that he had suffered the same fate. For a few minutes after waking in a real bed, in a real room of an actual intact house, clean and warm, he was positive he was dead. He could hear voices outside his room and even recognized one or two of them. Had they followed him to the other side? However, Mark then realized that dead men were not suppose to hurt like he did, and surmised he was still very much alive. It was the face that appeared in the doorway that caused his heart to leap, and firmly grounded him in the land of the living.

    “Clair?” He weakly reached out and felt her grip his hand in her own.

    “Shhhh.” She brushed a strand of hair from his face. “I’m here and we’re safe now.” She gently laid her head on his chest. “Just sleep.”

    “But I swear I was dead. I even saw Lance....”

    “I’ll explain everything once you rest. I promise.”

    He closed his eyes and let the darkness take him, more than willing to obey.

    Clutch watched the pair from the doorway, before reaching to quietly close the door and give them some privacy. He let out a long sigh. Love still flourished in this bleak world, under the direst of conditions. Sometimes, he realized, that was the only thing to keep one going.

    He moved down the hall, nodding to the woman whose home hid the refugees. She had just come from another room, where Cammy had been settled in after enduring the pain of exploration and cleansing of her gunshot wound. He knocked softly on the half closed door.

    “How is she?” Clutch asked, keeping his voice low.

    Bill waved him in from the chair he occupied by the girl’s bed. “She’ll be fine as long as the wound doesn’t get infected. It was a clean straight through.” The Joe paused and gazed at his daughter for a moment before saying, “I wanted to thank ya. When I saw that CeeGee come out of nowhere and I couldn’t get to her--”

    Clutch held up a hand. “No thanks needed, but how about a little trust now?”

    Bill snorted, but stood and reached a hand out which Clutch gripped. “Trust ain’t handed out ‘round here…”

    “Yeah I know. It’s earned.”

    “You’ve earned mine.” He was thoughtful a minute. “Another dimension huh? What was it like there? Am I there?”

    Clutch nodded. “Oh yeah. And you’re the same hardheaded bastard there. But my world is as different as night and day.”

    “Daddy?” Cammy stirred and her eyes looked up to the two men.

    “Yeah sugar?”

    “We heading back to base? We gotta get Steeler...” She started.

    Bill glanced at Clutch. “We’re already got that planned. Ya don’t worry about it.”

    Cammy closed her eyes again and let out a deep breath. “Then we head for home?”

    “Home?” Lance questioned.

    “Where we’re headquartered. We’ll regroup and get our new orders. I’m sure lots of people will be interested in ya and Grunt, seein’ how you’re suppose t’ be dead.” Bill once again sat down in the chair, and stoked Cammy’s brown hair. “She looks so much like her mama.”

    Lance leaned up against a dresser, crossing his ankles. “I guess I get to meet the rest of the survivors.”

    Cammy’s eye’s popped open and she gasped, as if a great epiphany had taken place. “Daddy... what about Beth?”

    Bill’s hand went still and he stared blankly straight ahead for several minutes before blinking. He turned his head slightly to look at the Joe who was curiously studying him from his spot. The scene of utter anguish that had nearly caused the woman to take her own life replayed in his mind. How would she take this?

    “Who’s Beth?” Clutch asked quietly.

    Bill stood and faced him. “Bethany. Bethany Steinberg... is Lance’s wife.”

______________________________________________________

To Be Continued
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