Chapter Three

Ripcord and Zap both started to become more aware of their surroundings as the explosions outside became more frequent and violent. Their eyes searched up and down the long corridor, which was lined with doors leading off to side offices. The only other people visible were two teams of two Rangers stationed at each door on the ends of the corridor which lead outside. As the two Joes waited they listened in on the radio traffic. Gridiron had insisted on having central command of the operation, so any transmissions outside of team level were routed through the Command Center, which was below where the Joes stood, in the basement of the Adminstration Building. First the Cobras attacked then the Joes moved to counter attack. So far that was all they knew. Apparently Gridiron liked to keep a tight rope on all but mission sensitive transmissions. It was because of this that two were caught off guard when the north door was peppered with heavy machine gun fire. The shells punched through the metal door and the surrounding concrete and reducing the two unfortunate Rangers into little more that scraps of flesh and a fine pink mist. It was then that Ripcord noticed the impact marks on the floor walking down the length of the hallway, toward the two Joes. "Down!" The paratrooper screamed as he tackled the dumfounded Zap off to the side of the hallway as they were assaulted by small chunks of concrete that were kicked up as the bullets struck the floor. Suddenly the gunfire stopped but the silence was short lived as an explosion sounded and the northern wall disappeared in a dense cloud of smoke and debris. As the wind, raised by the air battle, thin out the cloud a Frag Viper stepped through and began to raise up a 6G-30 rotary magazine grenade launcher. Ripcord brought his M-16 up and fired two quick bursts at the enemy whose chest erupted with sprays blood as the bullets connected. As more of the smoke cleared a HiSS was seen backed up to the exit, with Vipers quickly pouring out of the HiSS' ramp. Thankfully the two 12.7mm machine guns on the turret were turned away, firing wildly at some unseen threat. As Ripcord and Zap began to pick off the Vipers with their M-16s the HiSS' turret began to turn in the direct of the hallway again. "Hit it Zap!" Ripcord yelled out.
"On it!" Zap returned as he quickly shook the tube of the M-72 off of his shoulder, extended the tube, and brought the weapon in line with the HiSS. "Clear!" Zap yelled as he punched the button on the top of the LAW. The light missile would barely have done a thing if it hit the thick outer armor of the enemy APC., Zap knew this and adjusted accordingly. The missile streaked out of the tube and towards the HiSS before it flew into the gapping troop compartment. The missile exploded in a small fireball, but inside the narrow confines of the HiSS it was devastating. The ramp and the insides were coated in fire. The still deploying Vipers were cut down as the HiSS turned the LAW into a shape charge blowing outwards. The turret operator slumped over on the guns, his body engulfed in flames. Ripcord reached over and high-fived Zap as the two grinned and shouted out.
"Yeah!" They yelled in unison. They looked at the flames that covered the ground around the hole the Frag Viper had made.
"Let's see 'em try to come through that." Zap said with a nod towards the burning wreckage. Ripcord nodded in agreement as he looked beyond the destroyed HiSS and saw a Wolverine roll over the wreckage of a Stinger, firing it's missiles into the distance. Despite not being able to see the driver, Ripcord somehow knew it was Covergirl and grinned. A sudden realization stuck Ripcord as he turned toward the south door and yelled to the Rangers that were crouched down near the door.
"Fall back! Get over here now!" he called out as the two Ranger PFCs ran towards the Joe's positions.
"Hit the deck!" Zap yelled as he saw the realization of Ripcord's logic. A like a sick mimic of the first one, the southern door caved in under a hail of 12.7mm slugs. The Rangers stayed prone and to the sides as the gunfire walked up the corridor once more. The gunfire stopped. "Move!" Zap yelled as a prediction of his own sprang into his head. The Rangers began to run again and dived prone as the southern wall exploded. While the Joes waited for the smoke to clear the Rangers finished their sprint and took a knee behind the Joes, waiting for the targets to come into view. As expected the Vipers began pouring into the corridor from a HiSS; with some staying in the corridor while others ran into side offices. This group of Vipers began taking cover and returning fire, more than likely warned by a last second transmission from the first HiSS. Once again the turret began to strafe towards the four soldiers. "We're history if that thing makes us!" Zap yelled, knowing without any more LAWs that the group was a write-off.
"Cover me!" Ripcord yelled out as he dove prone in the center of the corridor, switching his M-16 to semi-automatic as he hit the floor.
"Rip, you crazy mot-" Zap yelled then stopped, figuring he could complain or do his best to cover his teammate. "Keep the Vipers down!" Zap yelled to the Rangers as he began to rake suppressive fire at the Vipers' positions. The red uniform of the HiSS crew member stood out against the black metal of the HiSS as Ripcord sighted on the turret operator's legs standing on a raised platform inside the troop compartment. Sighting carefully, ignoring the firefight raging around him as best he could, Ripcord squeezed the trigger three times. Crimson showers sprang forth from the turret operator's knee, thigh, and a final eruption of blood from the man's crotch. Ripcord almost swore he heard the blood curdling scream despite the noises of the firefight and the distance between the two. The operator fell from the turret, into the troop compartment and began squirming in pain on the metal floor of the HiSS. Ripcord ignored the three distinct blood splatters that stood out on the wall of the HiSS and starting firing on the Vipers. But this time they kept coming. There was no fire to keep infantry at bay. The four kept trading fire with the Vipers. Every now and then a Viper would slump down. Thankfully none of the remaining soldiers had been hit. The firefight was a stalemate. Ripcord's earlier stunt had put him roughly ten feet in front of the others; causing him to never see it coming. Zap watched as a Frag Viper burst through the door of a side office slightly behind Ripcord and swung a G-41 assault rifle in line with Ripcord. Zap was able to squeeze off one hasty round as he yelled out. "Rip! Watch out!" The bullet connected with the barrel and the German assault rifle and sent it skidding across the concrete. Losing his weapon didn't phase the Cobra, he dove at Ripcord. Ripcord barely had begun to turn his head when the Frag Viper impacted with him. His body slamming against the wall wasn't that bad. The Frag Viper's shoulder connecting with his burnt forearm was another story. Ripcord inhaled sharply and his eyes widened as the M-16 slipped from his grip. The two fell to the ground struggling. The Frag Viper began to assault Ripcord's kidneys with punches while Ripcord wrapped his hands around the Frag Viper's throat. Zap and the two Rangers watched but couldn't do much else, Ripcord and Viper were too close for a safe shot and if they stopped firing at the Vipers further down the hall, the enemy might advance. Giving up on the punches the enemy began to use one hand to push Ripcord's head up while using the other to break away the one of the hands clamped around his neck. The Frag Viper spotted his possible salvation in the bandages and plastic that snaked around Ripcord's left forearm. He began to use a hand to claw at the burnt flesh under the bandages. He succeeded. The bandages almost immediately turned a deep crimson and blood began to drip on the floor, Ripcord's BDU sleeve, and run down into his glove. The paratrooper howled out as the intense pain shot through his body. That pushed him over the edge. He bit down on the gloved hand on his jaw, his teeth tearing through the fabric and drawing blood. He slammed his knee into the Frag Viper's crotch then used it to vault the body off and over him. The sad sniffling sound from inside the enemy's helmet didn't stop Ripcord from twisting over and taking hold of the Frag Viper's helmet. Ripcord twisted with all his might.
"Motherfucker!" Ripcord yelped as tears of pain rolled down his cheeks and a disturbing snapping sound was heard as the Frag Viper's neck was twisted beyond the limits of human motion. Ripcord stood and stumbled into the same room as the Frag Viper burst from. The paratrooper leaned against the wall and slid down it. He looked at his arm, which was now caked in blood. After taking a moment to check himself, making sure it was only deep tissue damage, and nothing threatening; he used his anger and sense of duty to press the pain into the back of his mind as best he could. "Where the hell did you come from?" Ripcord asked to no one as he glanced around the room. His question was answered by two gapping holes in opposite walls. The Cobras were blasting through the offices. Ripcord didn't realize it. He must have thought the explosions were just the battle outside. Then another horrifying thought came to mind. "The Command Center!" Ripcord shouted as he shot to his feet. He started to charge through one of the holes when he realized his M-16 was still in the hallway. He inched towards the doorway and saw the terrible crossfire. "No way..." he said as he thought of his chances of trying to get to his rifle. Suddenly a missile slammed into the HiSS, destroying it and the Vipers in a large fireball. He immediately thought of Covergirl. He wished it was her. He hoped it was her. If she was outside he knew nothing else would get into the Command Center. He stepped into the hallway and scooped up his rifle.
"Jesus. Wally are you okay?" Zap said as he stared at the blood stains on Ripcord's arm and mouth.
"Don't worry about me. The Control Room may have been compromised, we need to get down there now." Ripcord said as he ran for the stairwell. Ripcord and Zap along with Smith and Greer, the two Rangers, ran down the flight of stairs and into the hallway of the basement. They heard gunfire right off the bat. They sprinted down the hall, towards the Command Center. They carefully stacked up against the wall as Ripcord took a quick look inside. There were three Vipers behind an overturned metal table trading fire with a Ranger in a mirror image position on the other side of the room. Ripcord and Zap burst in and cut down the Vipers who had their backs turned towards the door.
"Don't shoot! I'm American!" The Ranger shouted. He stepped out from behind the overturned table. He was dressed in BDUs but had a Viper's blood stained ballistic vest strapped to his chest. His only weapon was a G-41, more than likely taken off the same Viper his vest was from. "I'm Specialist Myer, I was one of the communications men here."
"Holy shit, what happened here?" Smith asked as he looked around the room, seeing multiple U.S. soldiers and Vipers alike lying dead around the large command center. Myer started to answer but Ripcord held up a hand.
"No time, where's Gridiron?" Ripcord asked in a hurried voice. Myer pointed behind the table he'd been using for cover. Gridiron lay with a bullet wound to his right shoulder and a nasty black and blue area on his temple. Ripcord checked his pulse. He was alive. Barely. "Greer see what you can do to patch up Gridiron." Ripcord began to spit out his words rapid fire and point to individuals as they were named. "Zap, Smith go out and watch the hall in case we missed someone. Myer do you know who was next in command?" Myer nodded and opened up a binder sitting on the ledge of one of the control panels.
"Next in the see-o-see is the Ranger company commander here, Captain Thompkins, Romeo Actual." Without having to be told, Myer began to punch in the channel for the Ranger's first platoon. "Romeo Actual, Romeo Actual, do you read, over?"
"The Capt'n's dead so's top and the el-tee. We're gettin' cut up bad..." Came back the response from a very worried and very young sounding voice. Once again Myer didn't have to be told as his gaze dropped down to the next line.
"Commander of Tank Platoon One, Steeler, Oscar Tango Actual." Myer quickly punched in the number and transmitted. "Oscar Tango Actual, Oscar Tango Actual, do you read over?"


The Ghoststrikers couldn't do much about the battle on the ground, not unless they wanted to rain "friendly fire" down on their teammates, but it seemed Cobra didn't worry about creating their own casualties. A Stinger's missile intended for Covergirl's Wolverine ended up taking out a nearby Cobra Vehicle that she thought she heard someone call a STUN. A VAMP flanking her right disabled the Stinger, helping save her remaining missiles for larger targets. Clutch flashed her a quick thumbs up and she gave him a two finger "thanks" salute before he pulled off to aid another vehicle.
"Support to the Command Center, now!" The call came through the radio. Seven rockets left Covergirl counted. In the confusion of battle, she had lost track of how many she had fired, but looking back, she could see the seven missiles. She switched her helmet com-link on and made the call back.
"Oscar Tango Two-Three, repositioning to Command Center, I say again, Repositioning to the command center!" She called out.
"Copy Two Three." She switched the com-link off. "Okay." She said to the Wolverine giving it a slight pat on the control panel. "Let's get in there." For good measure, she aimed her cat tracks at the torn apart Stinger, rolling over it like it were a speed bump, before firing two missiles at a HiSS APC off in the distance. "Five left." She reminded herself. Just Five." The closer she got to the building, the worst things looked. Flaming wreckages everywhere, buildings leveled, vehicles destroyed, bodies littering the ground. "Holy Shit" She said, looking around. Her eyes scanned the Command Center, the building she had overheard Ripcord assigned to shortly after they first landed. Walls, doors, and windows were blown out. Her heart started to sink, until she remembered Big Ben's words from last time... 'He's a big boy, Lass, I'm sure he'll turn up just fine.' But that was when he was 100%, not injured and exhausted. She hoped Big Ben's words would still ring true. Behind her, a pair of tanks, a Mauler and a MOBAT started closing in, also advancing to help protect the Command Center. Off in the distance were two HiSS vehicles, causing some havoc of their own to one of the smaller office buildings, vehicles taken out by two of her Wolverine Missiles. "Five left." She reminded herself. "Just Five" Her eyes scanned the area for her next target, the sounds of the battle once again lost. She caught sight of some sort of personnel carrier, black off in the distance, closing in on the Command Center. "Reinforcements..." She half questioned, half stated. A quick check through her periscope showed the tell tale sign of the snake on the vehicle's hood and she hit the pop up display, lining the vehicle in her sites. The vehicle was huge, probably capable of carrying 30, 40 troopers, easy. Her thumb switched the coverings on missiles Five, Four, and Three, but her finger hesitated a second before launching. 30 or 40 troopers, 30 or 40... people. She wrestled with her conscience for only a split second. People that would gun her, Ripcord, or any of the others down in a second. “Us or Them.” She told herself. In rapid-fire succession, she launched the three missiles, watching them land right on mark. The machine gun fire ricocheting off the back of the Wolverine's armor helped prevent even a second of remorse. She cursed out loud and twisted around to look out of the rear periscope. She could see it was one of their own, an AWE Striker, doing the firing. "What the Fuck?" She asked, hearing the impacts from another bullet barrage against the Wolverine's hull. She hated taking out one of their own vehicles, but obviously it wasn't one of their own driving, or firing for that matter. "Let’s get ‘em!" She said to her 'partner', spinning his main battle turret 180 degrees. She didn't bother aiming, the AWE Striker was in close enough range to be destroyed by the large missile. Who ever was driving obviously didn't know the Wolverine had full range firing capability. She looked back to see the explosion, her heart still racing from the clatter of the machine gun fire. One missile left. She flipped on her com-link... "Oscar Tango Two Three, requesting reloading over."
"Copy Two Three. Proceed to Site Echo, say again, proceed to Site Echo, will deploy crew."
"Copy." She hated pulling off, but one missile was just too few to mess around with. She took aim at a final HiSS, which managed to pull away before getting hit, and she once again cursed, expressing her hate for wasting her final missile. The two tanks seemed to be doing a good enough job covering for her at the Command center, so she pulled to the predetermined coordinates to await the missile crew. She grabbed her gear and hopped out of the vehicle, not wanting to act like a sitting duck should any snakes see the large vehicle in the wooded area. She fell back deeper into the forest, to maintain better cover. Now armed only with a pistol, she felt almost helpless, but the memory of the Night Vipers on roof reminded her that even small projectiles can do some serious damage. She unholstered her weapon, noticing her right hand shaking with the weight of it. Left over from the vibration of the Wolverine, she rationalized. That's all it was. She leaned against one of the many trees, trying not to look back as the battle raged on, grinding her eyes to stay alert, focused. The twig snapping wasn't enough warning for her to react, a pair of gloved hands grabbed her from behind. One arm wrapped around her throat, the other grabbed her left shoulder tight enough for her to feel his fingers digging through her muscle, almost to the bone. Another soldier's hand grabbed hers, still holding the pistol, slamming it repeatedly into the tree she was leaning against. Crying out, she was forced to release the pistol, but the gloved man didn't let up.
"Well, well, well." The second soldier commented, picking up her weapon and stepping into view. He was dressed in blue fatigues, a black and red combat vest, along with a blue helmet complete with reflective face shield. He also had the small, red, Cobra insignia the right breast of his vest. "What do we have here?" He pulled off his mask to get a better look, while the soldier behind her squeezed her throat a bit tighter, making it harder to breathe. She cursed herself for not paying better attention, for letting her guard down the one split second it took for them to be on her. The Cobra in front of her ran his index finger under her chin and up the side of her cheek as she tried to pull away. Struggling only made the soldier behind her hold tighter. "Normally..." the trooper in front of her continued, grabbing her chin to force her to make eye contact with him, "We'd just kill you. You should be honored." She gritted her teeth, and gave what she hoped to be her best "show-no-fear" look, which just made the trooper laugh. "What do you say we take this tank driver out for a little test drive ourselves, first?" His smile made her sick, quickly her fear turned to anger, to rage as he leaned in closer. Inhaling all the oxygen she could get, she gave the trooper in front of her a high, hard front kick to the groin, causing him to double over in pain. The trooper behind her fell into a fit of hysterics but didn't let up no matter how hard she struggled, holding fast. Once again she cursed herself, this time for not being strong enough to over power him. The doubled over trooper tried to catch his breath, tried to save face in front of his comrade. "You... You Bitch!" He spat, raising her pistol to her, point blank range. "Die!" She closed her eyes tight and heard the shot go off. A second or two passed before she opened one eye, realizing she was not the one who'd been shot. The Cobra in front of her stood wide eyed and pale, his hands raised to shoulder length, and back arched. A stream of crimson ran from his mouth and the hole in his neck. Covergirl could hear the gurgling from his throat as he fell forward into her, rolling his eyes back into his head, as all life left his body. The soldier holding her now began to use her as a shield, ducking his head behind hers. He released her left shoulder, grabbing his own pistol and pressing it into her temple.

"Show yourself!" He called out. "Show yourself, or the girl here, she gets it." She stared blankly as the Cobra in front of her slumped to the ground, hardly aware that there was yet another gun aimed at her skull. The cold steel let her know he was serious, but she also knew he couldn't kill her. Doing so would just leave him as a target himself, and her basic training instinct kicked in. She let herself go completely limp, her sudden dead weight catching him off guard and causing him to lose his grip and drop her to the ground. Exposed, out in the open, he didn't stand a chance against the stream of automatic fire which ripped into his body. Covergirl covered her head, but not before getting hit with what seemed to be a wave of crimson fluid. The trooper fell backward to the ground, his body still twitching. She wiped off her cheek with the back of her hand, cringing as she thought about the dead trooper running his fingers across it. She stayed down for a second, dazed, before low crawling to the first trooper and grabbing her weapon. The soldiers responsible for saving her still hadn't shown themselves, and she wasn't taking any more chances. Finally, two soldiers emerged, both in full combat gear, one standing cover, the other knelt down by Covergirl.
"Are you all right?" He asked, putting his hand on her left shoulder, but she could barely hear him. She still felt the strong grip of the Cobra trooper holding her arm, felt the barrel of the gun pressed to her skull, and her breathing got harder. She stared at the blood that covered her hand, blood that came from the fallen Cobra trooper and shrugged her teammate off, not being able to answer. "Hey!" He repeated. "Are you all right?" Wide eyed and still in shock, she still didn't reply. "Repeater!" He called out. "Get the medic!" The mention of a medic snapped her back into reality.
"No.... I'm... I'm fine." She managed to get out, rolling on her back and sitting up. The soldier gave her a hand to her feet, and handed her a rag to wipe her face.
"Here..." he said, almost gently. "You have a little..." he made a wipe-your-face gesture. "Are you hit anywhere?"
"No... " she repeated. "I'm... I'm fine."
"Good thing me and Repeater were tracking those two... The name's Fast Draw, good thing I was, huh, Fast on the Draw?" He told her, holding onto her arm and walking for more cover, going on, but she wasn't listening. The Vipers' words played over in her head, she could still see the barrel in front of her, and her whole body jerked, hearing the gun shot. "Whoa!" Fast Draw said. "You sure you're fine?" She wiped off her face, turning his handkerchief a deep red, and nodded.
"Yeah, I just... just need to get back to my..." What was it called? "My Wolverine." He looked at her, head tilted to the side, and she put on her best game face, throwing in a small smile.
"Reload crew is dead." The soldier said, matter of fact, as they headed towards where the Wolverine still rested. "But I can give you a hand. Just have to get the Hum-vee here running..." If anything could snap her back, it was the thought of working on an engine, driving something new. Fast Draw hopped into the HMMWV, trying to start it with no avail. Avoiding gazing at the two soldiers lying lifeless nearby, Covergirl listened to the sound of the engine trying to turn over, and figured out the problem. Was simple to fix, fuel uptake line was snapped, so she grabbed a small roll of 100-mile-an-hour tape from her vest and wrapped it around the broken hose. On the open bed of HMMWV was the small arsenal she needed to reload the Wolverine. Fast Draw helped her load the twelve missiles, while again, Repeater remained silent and provided cover. "All right, Babe" He told her. "You're all set." He started making another wipe-your-face gesture, but dropped it, instead offering a wink. "Me and Repeater could never resist a damsel in distress." She shot him a hard look, but then softened. He wasn't the one she was mad at.
"Thanks." She told him, giving him the same left-handed two finger salute she gave to Clutch a few hours ago, though by now it felt like days. She climbed back into the Wolverine, giving it a reassuring pat. For the first time, she noticed her swollen hand, and tried to clench it into a fist. It was sore, but nothing broken, just a little banged up. She took a few practice shots, flipping up and down the missile button covers to make sure. "Suck it up, Krieger." She told herself, not fully meaning the pain in her hand. Switching on her com-link, she made the call. "Oscar Two Three returning to Command Center, I say again, Two Three returning to Command Center."

<PREVIOUS_____________________________THE ARCHIVES____________________________ NEXT >