Chapter Eleven

The Vietnam Conflict ended about six years ago. Despite this fact, Warrant Officer Harper and his Chinook crew hadn't left the jungle since. Harper remembered reading an article long ago about prisoners being 'institutionalized'. He could compare it to his crew's predicament. They had spend so much time in Southeast Asia, that the jungle had become their home. After the U.S. forces pulled out in '75, they knew they would feel out of place anywhere but the jungles. So they each requested assignments throughout the various tropical regions of the world that the U.S. Army operated in. The Army eagerly granted them duty in some spots of the globe where other soldiers had to practically be forced to go. Harper shifted his eyes from the heavy sheet of rain visible through the propped open door of their barracks and looked down at his cards. Four of the five cards caught his eye from the start, two aces and two eights. Harper immediately tossed his cards down on the floor, face down.
"What's the matter skip?" Davidson, his crew chief, said with a chuckle, "Your hand that that bad?"
"Ask Wild Bill." Harper retorted flatly. No one responded. They all knew what it meant. Eights and Aces. The Dead Man's Hand. Legend had it that 'Wild Bill' Hickok was holding that hand when he was shot. Soldiers, especially fliers, never were in a hurry to tempt fate. The sudden silence was broken as the intercom bolted above the door crackled to life.
"Lifeguard flight, Lifeguard flight, you have a green, I say again you have a green, report to your aircraft immediately." Came a hurried set of orders over the intercom. The four crewmen immediately shot to their feet, scattering cards and small bills in the process.
"The shit always goes down when I have a good hand!" Wallace, the loadmaster, spat out as he pulled his helmet and vests from his locker.
"What was it?" Carmicheal, the co-pilot, asked with a smile as his pulled his survival vest over his ballistic vest.
"A full house." Wallace shot back.
"Straight flush." Davidson said as he ran past Wallace and gave his partner a playful shove. The four crewmen rushed out of the squat metal building and began to pile into a HMMWV. As soon as the final member of his crew had entered the multi-purpose four wheel drive vehicle Harper floored the accelerator and aimed the vehicle in the direction of the base's helipad.


Ripcord and the others made their way carefully forward, not wanting to startle the armed villagers. As they neared the burning wreckage of the STUN, Ripcord's eyes started to sweep over the twisted black and red metal, keeping a careful watch for anything that moved from it. He didn't worry about the villagers. If they'd decided to open fire then he'd be the first one to go anyways.
"Hey Zap, tell 'em we're on their side." Fastdraw said swiftly as he kept his eyes on the people and their shanty mud and wood huts.
"Yo hablo Espanol pendejo." Zap hissed. "And even if these people did speak the country's language, it's Portuguese not Span-" Before Zap could finish his sentence a man and woman both armed with battered AK-47s carefully stepped forward. The man slowly swung his AK-47 out of line with the Americans and started speaking to Zap in Spanish. Zap nodded and said something back, soon the two had broken into a conversation. Not long into their conversation, the other villagers lowered their rifles, which caused the Joes and Wolfe to do the same.
"Zap, what's he saying?" Ripcord asked just above his breath as he approached his friend.
"They're not natives for one," Zap started, keeping his statements short to get in the important facts, "They're Columbians originally. Fled across the border due to some kinda trouble they were in. They've got a tough life here in the jungles, but they survive. Cobra mainly leaves them alone most of the time due to their distance and remoteness to the complex. They say we're welcome to stay if we need to and they've got some spare fo-" Zap was cut off has the sound of heavy machine fire cut through the air, causing the soldiers to instinctively dive towards the ground. Ripcord's gaze shot up just in time to see the man and woman almost literately be cut to pieces under a storm of heavy caliber bullets. Ripcord tore his gaze away from the spray of blood and flesh that rose from the mangled bodies of the two Columbians each time a shell slammed into masses that were barely recognizable as human forms. As he frantically scanned the area, his eyes found the source of the fire. A HiSS burst forth from the opposite end of the village, it's twin 12.7mm machine guns firing wildly at anything that moved. Ripcord saw the Columbians try to fight back, only to have themselves cut to pieces as the 7.62 rounds from their rifles pinged harmlessly off of the black armor of the Cobra APC.
"Fastdraw! Hit it!" Ripcord shouted back. Within seconds he heard the sound of a LAW's motor kick it as it screamed from the launch tube and punched through the thick plexiglass canopy of HiSS, destroying the cockpit and engulfing the turret's gunner in flames. As the deep rolling boom of the fireball raised by the LAW subsided, Ripcord's ears were filled with the sounds of a high pitched screaming. His eyes shot to his right to see a young boy running towards the prone forms of the two Columbians that Zap had just been talking to. His eyes shot back to the burning HiSS as he heard more rifle fire from that direction. His heart sank. There had to be almost a full platoon of various Cobra troops bursting into the small village. The Columbians rushed to meet the Cobras head on but Ripcord knew the civilians wouldn't last long. "Pull out!" He shouted back, noticing his men firing on the Cobras as well. As Ripcord stood and turned he saw Zap try to shield the boy from the bodies of his parents. "Let's go Raf!" Ripcord shouted to the explosives expert. Ripcord didn't expect what happened next. Zap scooped up the boy in one arm as he stood and began to retreat with his teammates. Ripcord didn't say anything about it, mainly because he didn't have the time to argue. He and his team would turn every so often to fire hastily aimed shots at the Cobras, each time the number of live civilians growing smaller and smaller. At some point during the team's sprint he heard the near constant sound of Repeater's M-60 stop.
"Shit!" The big Ranger hissed as he threw the empty machine gun to the ground and withdrew his personal sidearm, a large Colt Python .357 caliber revolver, from a hip holster. Ripcord turned back around. The VAMPs were in sight. He quickly yelled out to the three remaining members of the team in the ATVs.
"Start the engines! Move out damnit!" He shouted, immediately causing Covergirl and Heavy Metal to fire up the engines on the vehicles.
"Down!" He heard Covergirl scream. He didn't hesitate. He immediately dropped prone, as the launcher on the Mk. II spun in his direction and flashed, signaling the launch of one of the Dragon missiles. The Medium sized anti-tank missile leapt out of it's rack and caused an explosion somewhere close behind Ripcord and his team. As the noise of the missile's fireball subsided, Ripcord shot to his feet and darted towards the lead VAMP. A cursory glance behind him revealed the burning hulk of another HiSS. Jesus, how many units survived? The off-base patrols must have organized once they found out that the complex was destroyed. Ripcord didn't dwell on the his theories but instead, focused his attention to the VAMP. As he reached the vehicle he immediately spun and took a knee, bringing the captured G-41 up. It was clear but he doubted it would stay that way for long. He saw Wolfe and Repeater sprinting towards him both headed for the same VAMP Ripcord was near. Repeater jumped onto the back of the VAMP while Wolfe dove through the open passenger door and quickly turned the big engine of the vehicle over. Ripcord shot a hurried glance back at the other two VAMPs. Everyone was in. As he turned towards the passenger door, he heard the two dual M-60s in the column as well as several M-16s open up. He reached up and pulled himself into the vehicle's cab. As soon Ripcord's feet were off the ground he yelled out to Wolfe.
"GO!" Ripcord shouted as he turned in the seat and pointed his rifle out of the VAMP's window. He saw the Cobras pouring out of the clearing and into the jungle. He took aim and fired, combining his rifle with the rest of his team's weapons to lay down a hellish field of fire on the approaching enemies. As Wolfe gunned the engine and the VAMP leap forward Ripcord lost site of the enemy soldiers, the small window only allowing him only a narrow field of vision. Ripcord quick forced the door open against the winds and quickly pulled an yellow and black striped cord. As the cord was pulled away, it removed two pins causing the armored door to fly away from the vehicle, the wind and momentum carrying it backwards where it narrowly avoided slamming into Covergirl's Mk. II. Ripcord saw the Cobras swiftly disappearing into darkness and lined up for shots as best he could with the bucking of VAMP. He pulled the trigger in a few hasty bursts, not sure if he'd hit anything or not. On his last burst he heard the bolt dry firing. He quickly spun his body to front and reached for another magazine. His eyes immediately widened when he saw a STUN come into view ahead. The distance was too short. They were going to hit it. Ripcord saw a shower of sparks raise on the nose of the Cobra vehicle as Repeater tried to take out the crew. The STUN answered the challenge by opening up all four of the forward heavy machine guns. Ripcord the heard initial rounds connecting with the armor of the VAMP's body. Then he heard the scream of a missile engine igniting from behind him. The Dragon flashed past the VAMP and hit the strut for the STUN's front tire. There was a loud explosion as the fireball engulfed the nose of the Cobra vehicle and tilted it backwards with such force that it lifted up into the air and slammed it back to the earth upside down. More importantly, the back flip of the vehicle cleared it away from the path of his VAMP, sparing the vehicle from a catastrophic collision. Ripcord breathed a sigh of relief and leaned back in the rough seat of the military vehicle. His closed his eyes for a moment, only for them to be snapped back open as the sound of another Dragon launch was heard moments before an explosion followed. He quickly twisted his body to see out of the doorframe, hoping wasn't a VAMP that had just went up. His eyes fell instantly on another burring husk, that loosely resembled a Rage, lighting up the jungle. He shot another glance back. He saw all three VAMPs still traveling in a tight column. Good. As Ripcord's gaze intensified he then saw that all four of the missiles racks on the Mk. II were empty. The team had no anti-armor weapons left. He hoped they could make the next fifteen miles unopposed.


Harper's foot tapped against the side of the control panel as a radio blared "Long Tall Sally" inside the body of the CH-47 helicopter. It had become a bit of tradition during their missions with hot LZs during Vietnam. He had to smile as he heard Wallace's singing over the beat of the heavy rotors and sound of the music. He was to about look back to tell Wallace he was off-key when he heard Carmicheal called out over the intercom.
"Got 'em!" The co-pilot called out, pointing out of the windows of the helicopter's cockpit. "Talk about timing." Carmicheal added.
"No kidding." Harper returned. The timing allowed them to avoid another hard-learned lesson of Southeast Asia. If the ground troops reached the LZ before the choppers got there, they could get under heavy fire without any support. Inversely, if the chopper had to orbit while waiting, it was a big target and could run low on fuel. "Lifeguard flight this is Lead, we've got smoke below, two o'clock low." Harper said into the radio, "Intel says it's seven troops and three light vehicles down there. Two, you'll go in and hook up to the first vehicle and head back. Three, you'll be up next, doing the same. We'll get final vehicle and pull the troops out." With that Harper put the aircraft into a hover not far from the LZ and watched as one of the two other Chinooks in his flight broke formation and tilted slightly as it moved forward, positioning itself over the LZ just before dropping it's heavy lift lines into the clearing below.


Ripcord looked up as the massive helicopter hung over the clearing and dropped four heavy cords, which landed heavily on the muddy ground with a dull sound.
"They're taking the VAMPs out first!" Hotseat shouted over the noise of the rotors of the three helicopters. Everyone except Heavy Metal nodded to the NCO who was supporting himself in the door frame of the last VAMP.
"Oh, so the equipment is more valuable than us, huh?!" Heavy Metal shouted angrily.
"In your case, yeah!" Fastdraw shot back flatly.
"Knock it off!" Hotseat growled at the two. With that said, Ripcord, Covergirl, Repeater, and Heavy Metal all rushed forward and each pulled one of the heavy hooks out of the soggy ground while Wolfe drove the first VAMP over near the hooks. As each began to attach the cargo hooks to specifically designed points on the body of the Joe vehicle, Wolfe slid out of the vehicle and ran to over to the Mk. II, sliding into it's seat and turning the engine over.
"Get clear!" Repeater shouted as the last hook was securely closed. The big Ranger then ran to the side of the clearing and waved his arms up. With that there was a groan of metal as the VAMP's weight was lifted off of the ground, the Chinook gaining altitude before it sped away from the clearing.
"Safe home, boys." Covergirl said under her breath as her gaze followed the VAMP off into the distance. As soon as the first Chinook had pulled away another one took it's place, hovering over the clearing as it dropped the it's heavy lift lines. Once again the group followed the same procedure, this time with the Mk. II. Once again the vehicle lifted into the sky.
"'Bout time." Heavy Metal grumbled as the last chopper dropped its lines and began a steady descent to the ground. Suddenly a noise broke over the sound of rotors. The sound of gunfire. Everyone immediately dropped prone and looked for the shooters. The soldiers didn't have to look long. A large group of various Cobra soldiers burst forth from the tree line. The team instantly reacted, those that had weapons left immediately brought them into play. Ripcord quickly shoved Hotseat into the cab of the VAMP and grabbed the captured G-41 from the NCO then tossed the weapon to Covergirl. As he lined up on the Cobras he heard the twin machine guns of the VAMP open up. A cursory glance showed Repeater manning the VAMP's two 7.62mm machine guns. A split second later the sound of the VAMP's weapons was joined by the sound of one of the M-134 guns from the Chinook, the rotatary barrel 7.62mm machine gun adding its rain of bullets to firefight. Despite the hellish fields of fire insecting the clearing, the CH-47 continued it's descent, seemingly unafraid as it opened it's rear ramp as it neared the ground.
"Cover me!" Ripcord shouted as he stood and ran off in the direction of the heavy lift lines laying in a heap on the ground. Ripcord fired off a few more hasty bursts before he slung his rifle and focused his vision on the hooks laying in the mud. As he ran he started to notice a dull pain starting to enter his side. Great, the stimulant was wearing off. Ripcord slid onto a knee near the hooks. Trying his best to ignore the cracking sound of near misses Ripcord fought the hooks free of the ground and threw the heavy lines over his shoulder before running towards the VAMP. A cursory glance showed him that the CH-47 had just set down and Heavy Metal and Covergirl running towards the ramp, the latter helping Hotseat along the way. Ripcord slid to stop near the bumper of the VAMP and began to attach the first hook to its lift ring. Ripcord saw Fast Draw move towards his position and quickly shouted out to the younger soldier without taking his eyes of the lift ring. "Get back in position! I need you covering my ass! Not hooking lines up!" Ripcord yelled as he moved to the next lift ring. As he went about securing the hook, he noticed Covergirl and a member of the Chinook's aircrew armed with an M-16, leap off of the ramp and use it for cover as they dove prone behind it and began to take shots whenever they could. Another one down. Ripcord headed for the next lift ring, noticing Zap trying to pry the Columbian kid away from the VAMP where the young boy had a white knuckled grip on the vehicle's steering wheel. As Ripcord worked on the third ring, he swore he heard "Long Tall Sally" playing over the sounds of gunfire, rotors, and the kid's screaming. He shook himself mentally, this wasn't the time for a mental breakdown. With the third hook secured, Ripcord quickly moved to the forth lift ring. As he started working the last one he heard the twin guns on the VAMP stop suddenly.
"Shit! Dry!" Repeater hissed. Ripcord saw the big Ranger leap off of the back of the vehicle. Repeater then ran to the driver's side of the VAMP and almost forcefully pulled the hysterical boy away from the steering wheel before scooping the kid up in one arm as he ran for the Chinook while his Colt Python fired away in the other. Finally Ripcord heard the click of the last hook securing.
"Zap, Fast Draw, Wolfe, head for the chopper!" Ripcord yelled out.
"Not without you amigo!" Zap retorted.
"That is where I'm headed! I'll bring up the rear!" Ripcord'd shot back. Seemingly satisfied the trio took off in a loose column for the CH-47, firing off the occasional burst, not noticing that Ripcord still knelt on the 'safe' side of the VAMP. The paratrooper reached down to his ALICE gear and withdrew a grenade. Ripcord pulled the pin free and threw the grenade into the tree line. Even as the explosion sounded and a fountain of dirt flew up, he withdrew another and did the same. As he reached for a third, he saw his team catching on. They had to cool this LZ down a little before they could safely liftoff. Fortunately each member had plenty of anti-personnel grenades left. Soon the tree line came alive as the dull explosion of grenades filled the air, each Joe emptying every one of the their grenades into the jungle. As Ripcord threw his last grenade he stood and sprinted in the direction of the Chinook, firing wildly into the tree line as he went. The others started piling in and the CH-47 began to lift off of the ground about three feet, it's starboard gunner still putting down a field of suppressive fire. With a final leap Ripcord landed on the ramp and was pulled in by Repeater and Covergirl as the Loadmaster began to raise the ramp. Before the ramp had barely started to close, the big helicopter shot into the sky and sped away from the clearing. Ripcord watched the clearing disappear, his eyes transfixed on the rising smoke and strewn bodies below. He kept staring at the same spot, even as the ramp closed, the image of the clearing burned into his mind.
"Holy shit, Ripcord." Covergirl said in awe from behind him, breaking his daze, "Are you okay?"
"Yeah, I'm okay." Ripcord said as he turned and passed his gaze over the rest of his team, taking stock of each individual. Zap, Fastdraw, and Repeater were all gathered in one corner trying to get the hysterical kid to calm down and offering what they could to comfort him. Wolfe was busying himself with tending to Hotseat who lay stretched out on a section of the cargo helicopter's web seating. Finally there was, Heavy Metal who sat off by himself, not saying a word and keeping his eyes downplayed. "How's everyone else?" Ripcord asked, despite seeing them all himself.
"Accounted for and fine." Covergirl said, taking a look around for herself. She then let a small smile play at the corners of her mouth as she looked back at Ripcord. "Could you have possibly cut that a little closer?"
"I doubt it." Ripcord responded as a slight spasm passed through his torso and a wince played on his face for a brief moment. The combat stimulant was leaving his system quicker than he'd thought. He carefully made his way to a nearby section of the CH-47's web seating and eased himself down into it. Covergirl followed him and took a knee next to him, putting a hand gently on his ribs and looking into his eyes.
"Wearing off?" She asked.
"Yeah," Ripcord nodded slowly, "The stim' is startin' to dry up."
"Thought you might've used it." She said, dropping her head in the process, "Heard it might be kind of bad, coming down, can I," She started but faltered for a brief moment. "Do you need anything?" Ripcord let out a small laugh before the he winced from the pain.
"Sleeping for about a month sounds nice." He kidded. He saw her bite her bottom lip but she still managed to muster a warm smile.
"You'd deserve it. Anything that doesn't involve hibernation?" She returned.
"I doubt it." He said with a shake of his head, "At least not till we get back to The Pit and the docs take a look at it." He paused and let out a heavy exhale, "Hopefully it won't be too bad." A small smile then crossed his face as he continued. "Once again, thanks Courtney."
"No." She stated with a shake of her head, "Thank you, Wally." She her slid into the web seating next to him and leaned in whispered in his ear, "For being Superman." Ripcord smiled at the comment and placed his hand on top of hers.
"Actually I do need some help with something." He started, then paused for a long moment before continuing, "How do you tell somebody something when you don't know how they'll take it?"
"Depends," She started before a small wince crossed her face "Is it bad?"
"To be honest I don't know." Ripcord responded flatly
"What?" She asked as a worried looked crossed her face, "Is it your ribs?"
"No it's not that." He said with a quick shake of his head.
"Then what?" She asked quizzically, her eyes searching out the answers in his eyes.
"I don't know quite know to put this," Ripcord started, looking afraid as he faulted his next words, "I....I...."
"What?" She asked in a hurried tone, his fear worrying her.
"I think I love you." He spat out in a swift sentence.
"Wha.... what?" She faltered, her eyes softening and a small smile washing over her face. However she just as quickly looked down. "Tell me again, when..." She faltered at first before continuing, "Tell me when you don't still have the drugs in you, all right?"
"Trust me, judging from the pain, there's not a drop left." Ripcord responded in a half serious tone of voice.
"Okay.. " She said, pressing a hand to the side of his face, "Then tell me when you aren't delusional from pain."
"I will." He responded in a very serious tone of voice. He paused for a moment before he continued, "I just wanted you to know now." He paused again for a brief moment, searching for the right words, "Before anything else happens." Covergirl smiled, leaning her head back against the hull wall, running the back of her hand over her face to catch a lone tear before it ran down her cheek.
"Like the chopper goes down, and they decide while we're stranded in the jungle, we can wipe out a drug cartel or two using just our knives and sidearms?"
"Why not, " Ripcord started with a shrug, "They sent us into the complex without warning." Ripcord responded in the same half serious tone as before.
"No they didn't." She stated with a shake of her head, "We're going to get home, and find out none of this ever happened." She looked down for a moment, rubbing her eyes again before looking back into Ripcord's eyes. "But what you said a couple of minutes ago," She started again, faltering through most of her sentence, "That... that did. Just tell me again when we're home, because I think... Wally, I think... me too."
He closed his eyes, leaning his back against the hull, with a soft smile on his face.


She watched him fall asleep while holding his hand, hoping both that he'd heard her, and that he didn't. Things were going to get complicated. They already were complicated, and what about… what about what Fast Draw had said? About emotions, and keeping them in check, and besides…. what if it just was the pain or the combat stimulant talking? She'd guessed that's what it had to be, what kept him going. The notorious 'combat stimulant' drug. Each of them carried one, she hoped she'd never have to use it. They said it gave you a great adrenaline rush, and could kill about any kind of pain there was… Externally, anyway. Maybe the other kind, too, she wasn't sure. She'd seen enough people hyped up on stuff to know the signs… Ripcord's sudden shift in attitude, his aggressiveness, but mostly his eyes are what had given it away to her. Satisfied that he was sleeping, she turned her attention to the rest of her teammates. The young boy clung almost frantically to Repeater, keeping one hand locked on the large ranger's collar behind his neck, the other holding the front of his BDU's. Twice Repeater had tried to remove the child, but even with Zap's reassurances, he'd grow hysterical. She noticed him not looking quite as stoic as the boy settled down in his arms still holding fast. Finally, he was calming down, a combination of Repeater's strong arm, Zap's soft…
“No te precupes, No te precupes, do not worry” and Fast Draw playing 'peek-a-boo' from around his helmet seemed to be working. She had to smile at the three of them. By himself, sat Heavy Metal. Her eyes grew dark, staring at him. Sonuvabitch. He had left his VAMP, which was bad enough, you never, ever leave your vehicle behind, but worse, he'd left Ripcord, opting instead for the safety of the helicopter. Her dark eyes then swung towards Hotseat, as he let out a small yelp. Wolfe had been tending to his wounds. Squeezing Ripcord's hand one more time, she left his side for Hotseat. He was still kneeling to one side of him, Wolfe, still in his Siege uniform. Covergirl focused instead on the injured Sergeant who lay stretched out on the webbing.
“You okay, old man?” She asked about his cry, trying to offer a smile. A sleepy eye turned her way.
“He'll be fine…” Wolfe answered. She swung him an icy gaze.
“Really? Tell me, what year did you graduate med school… Wolfe?” She asked coldly. He held up his hands in an 'I surrender' gesture, standing up and backing away. She bit her bottom lip. He hadn't done anything wrong that she'd known of… it was just he wasn't one of them.
“He's right, I'll be fine, kid.” Hotseat choked out, through cracked lips. She held a finger to hers, a 'shhh' gesture, not wanting him to strain himself further. He didn't listen. “You kids did good, did real good.” She smiled, putting a hand on his shoulder.
“Yeah. We kicked some serious ass…” She said with a smile, rubbing her nails on the front of her BDU then blowing on them, making the old tanker chuckle. His brown eye grew serious.
“I'm sorry I let you down…” She shook her head.
“Quit it. We all got out, we're all alive, right? No one's let down. You just get some sleep, okay? Just get some sleep.” He took her advice on that, nodding and patting her hand before closing his one good eye, the other still swollen shut. Leaving the sleeping sergeant, she glanced over at the team one more time, the young boy now sleeping soundly cradled in Repeater's arm, Zap sleeping himself with one hand on the boy's head, and Repeater, not sure if he was napping or just resting his eyes, his chin resting on his chest. She sat off by herself, near the back of the craft, she attempted to run her fingers through her matted, mud-clumped hair.
“Yeah, you look like shit.” From Fast Draw. She hadn't heard him walk over, and she sighed heavily as he took a seat next to her.
“Thanks.” She returned. “You're still an obnoxious fuck.” He smiled, taking a small towel out of his ALICE, handing it to her and making a 'wipe-your-face' gesture. She dropped her head and smirked, thinking back to the first time she'd met the big ape, back in the woods of A10.
“I told you I love it when you talk dirty to me… right?” He asked, giving her a small shove. She took his towel, wiping her eyes, first, and holding it there for a few seconds. “Krieger?” He asked.
“Just tired.” She replied, handing it back to him.
“How's the bullet hole, Hotshot?”
“Sore. Don't think I forgot about the shot you gave it, little bitch…” He said, almost playfully. She shook her head.
“Was worried about you making the run.” She replied. “Okay… I didn't have to enjoy it so much… that was just the icing.” He smiled, running a hand through his blondish hair.
“I knew you cared, Krieger! It's all right.” He retorted. “Sometimes I like it rough. A little pain can be a good thing…” She stood before he could finish, heading back over towards her other teammates.
“Good bye, Hotshot…” She said, flatly.
“C'mon, Courtney… just one kiss?” Smiling, she shook her head as she continued to walk away.
“Obnoxious Fuck.” She sat again by Ripcord, drifting in and out of sleep herself until she heard the voice booming from the head of the cargo bay. She looked up to see the loadmaster grinning broadly.
“Lady and Gentlemen, as we are about to begin our final descent, we welcome you to the five star resort of Howard Air Base, located in the heart of scenic Panama. We ask that you please keep your seat backs and tray tables in their full locked upright position, just in case Grandpa Harper finally turns to dust and crashes this motherfucker on the way down. Thank you for flying Save-Your-Ass-Airlines, and we hope you never have to see us again.” She smirked, rubbing a sleepy hand across her eyes before turning to wake Ripcord. It took a few tries, her shaking him gently at first, then, getting worried that perhaps he'd slipped into some sort of coma, she grabbed him a little harder.
“Hey… Ripcord?” He sprang up, almost as if he'd previously been fighting, grabbing the front of her BDU's….“Easy! Easy, it's me…” She told him, as his muscles began to relax. “You… you okay?” He sat back down, wrapping his arms tightly around himself, almost as if he were cold, even though the chopper itself was as stifling as it had been on the ground.
“Yeah, you just startled me is all…” She shook her head knowingly, not wanting to make it worse.
“Panama.” She said, simply. “Catching a C-141… we got a few minutes to clean up and all, first.” He nodded but didn't respond. A young airman directed them towards the billeting area, giving them an hour window before the C-141 would be ready to take off. Just enough time for a quick shower, and something to eat. She winced when she saw her reflection in the mirror for the first time, knowing Fast Draw was right. She looked like shit. The smeared camouflage paint aside, her eyes were red and bloodshot, her tangled hair mixed with dried mud. She quickly looked away but smiled. Ripcord had to be high if he said what he did, with her looking like that. Hot water was out of the question. She'd had enough of hot. Besides, cool felt better on the road rash and bruises which covered her left side. She almost felt guilty leaving the shower, wrapping a towel around herself, seeing the huge mess of camo paint and dirt left behind. She'd make sure to do a quick clean on it before leaving. Once again, she took a look in the mirror, not liking what she saw much better. Even cleaned up she looked like shit. Her bloodshot eyes were surrounded by dark circles, overshadowed only by the large-lack-of-sleep bags which formed below them. The deep bruise on her forehead was a dark bluish-black color, a reddish gash dividing it jaggedly, due partly to the pistol handle, and partly to the sniper-bitch. She shook her head. She threw her wet hair back into a lose braid, no longer caring if it rested above or below the shoulders of the fresh but still unmarked BDU's she put on. She took a second to relish the feel of dry fabric next to her skin before she met the rest of her team outside. She'd been the last to arrive, earning yet another derogatory 'female' comment from Fast Draw.
“We're starving out here, Krieger! Don't you think tweezing your eyebrows could have waited?” She was going to give him a 'fuck off' comment, but Hotseat beat her to it.
“Lay off, son. Been a long trip for everybody, I think there's been enough fighting, don't you?” Fast Draw mumbled something about taking a joke under his breath, but for the most part was quiet. She noticed the Siege, standing next to Ripcord, now wearing unmarked BDU's rather than his Crimson uniform, and eyed him warily, heeding Hotseat's words herself. In the distance, she could see Zap, who was giving a lazy piggy back ride to his new friend.
“Miguel.” He introduced him as. “Miguel, Se llama Covergirl, Covergirl, se llama… I mean, this is Miguel.” She shook hands with him, smiling at his resilience. He didn't seem happy, but he did seem content with Zap, offering a smile here and there as Zap spoke with him in his native tongue. She was almost afraid to eat the hot-cafeteria style food from the mess hall, living off of MRE's for a while tends to throw your system into a shock once it gets real food, but then she remembered, cafeteria food was still not real food. They all chose meals on the lighter side, to be safe. Except Repeater. He and his cast-iron stomach, chose a full meal, complete with a side of tomato soup. She couldn't be sure, but she thought she almost saw him crack a smile as he took the first spoonful. Miguel seemed to eat almost as well as Repeater, once in a while stopping to offer the large soldier something off of his plate. At one point, he put a large hand on Miguel's head for a brief second, but mostly was still the same sulker she knew and trusted. Warm food was almost as good as the dry clothes, almost. Only Ripcord didn't eat, instead picking at the food in front of him. She noticed his hand shaking slightly as he tightly clutched the fork, and as he gulped his third cup of a fruit punch type drink.
”C'mon, Skyboy, didn't your mother ever teach you not to waste food?” Fast Draw said, half kiddingly, lifting up part of Ripcord's tray before letting it slam down. Ripcord clenched a fist tighter, as he swung his 'beware' eyes from behind heavy lids towards Fast Draw. He angrily pushed the tray in Fast Draw's direction, giving a quick…
“You eat it.” through gritted teeth, before grabbing his fourth glass of punch.
“Lay off him…” She hissed, once he was out of earshot.
“Or what?” Fast Draw challenged, leaning back with folded arms.
“Or… nothing. I'm just asking you for once, please just lay off him?” Taken off guard, he shot an untrusting look before clearing his and Ripcord's trays. The rest of the team headed out towards the airstrip, she lagged behind a second to wait up for Ripcord, who was taking one final drink. “Stuff kind of dehydrated you?” She asked. He nodded, making sure his canteens were completely filled for the long flight home. “You… you going to be all right?” Once again he nodded, this time, his eyes soft behind the heavy lids. He pointed his finger and nodded towards her forehead, she could figure what he was meaning. She shook her head no… then smiled, and shook her head yes, giving it a slight rub, and rolling her eyes. “Yeah, it hurts, I got hit with the back of a pistol, of course it hurts!” He managed a weak smile as well, before the two of them headed out. They could see the commotion by the C-141. A few new airmen surrounded her team, Zap and Hotseat apparently arguing about Miguel.
“The kid's been through enough! He saw his whole family wiped out, this is insane!”
“This is his home, kid…” Was Hotseat insane? He wanted them to just leave the kid behind?
“No, that was his home! It's no longer there! He's got no one here!”
“Listen, I don't like it any better than you do, but you know full well we can't just start collecting people.” Inadvertently, her eyes shifted towards Wolfe.
“We got the orders. Think about it son…”
”There's nothing to think about, Sarge. The kid goes, or I stay, end of story.” He said adamantly. She took a deep breath, staring at Zap protectively holding the young boy. She knew how he felt, how it hurt to have to leave someone behind. She knew it wasn't a democracy, it was the military, one person in charge… she shook her head. It wasn't right.
“I'm with Zap.” She told him. “Kid comes.”
“Kid comes.” Fast Draw echoed. Repeater clamped a large hand down on Zap's shoulder, his show of support. Hotseat turned towards Heavy Metal.
“If it'll get us home… kid comes.” He agreed. The team shifted their gage towards Ripcord, near sleeping while standing up, leaning against the fuselage of the large C-141. He ground both of his eyes for a second, trying to shake his head to clear the cobwebs. One more shake of his head, and he shrugged.
"They got a point Top, that kid is more than likely the last survivor of that village. We can't send him back to Columbia; they'd fled the country in the first place. At least wait till we're stateside and social services can find him a good home." Hotseat took a final look around at his team, and shook his head.
“We're going to catch hell for this…” He muttered, as he climbed aboard the C-141. “We're going to catch hell.” Ripcord barely made it aboard the big aircraft before he we was out once again, flat on his back, using his LC-2 ruck for a pillow. She'd sat with him for a while, running a hand through his short cropped red hair before sleep started overtaking her as well. She shook her head a few times trying to stay awake, before realizing it was a losing battle. Afraid of again falling asleep too close, she instead stood and headed over towards the VAMPs, running a hand along the banged up surface of the MKII.
“Hey.” She said softly. “Thanks… Great job back there… even with the shorting out.” She climbed into the drivers seat, sitting sideways and letting her feet hang over the passenger side. Resting her head against the door frame, she took a last look towards Ripcord and smiled, his warm green eyes the last thing on her mind before falling asleep.


Colonel Courage sat in his office, tracing the flight of team Jaguar, last of the Wraith Operations to come home. He reread over the reports they had transmitted, and sighed. On one hand, they had been in the field the longest, they'd successfully completed their operation, successfully taken out the radar and ADA of the large Cobra weapons factory. On the other hand, they had engaged the enemy, missed sitereps, and now, for some reason he couldn't understand, a call came in that the team of seven, who when last reported had lost two men, was now returning a team of nine. It was the fact that one of these nine was a young boy which pushed him over the edge. He had sent out the order, the boy was not to leave with them past Howard Air Base in Panama. Yet the pilot of the C-141 reported one of the passengers to be a young boy. They'd deliberately disobeyed a direct order. No matter how successful the mission, it couldn't be tolerated. The only thing he demanded from the people below him was respect, and he'd be damned if some team of seven soldiers would undermine his authority. He buzzed the young MP stationed outside his door into the office, telling him to alert him the minute the team landed from Pope Air Force Base. In the meantime, he busied himself with the team dossiers. They had potential, definite potential. It was just up to him to make sure it was creatively mentored.


They said good-bye, to Wolfe at Pope Air Force Base, well, most of them, anyway. Ripcord had nodded a quick good-bye gesture as he boarded the UH-60, near immediately falling back asleep as he did so. She had half feared they were going to take him back to the Pit, still thinking of him simply as the Siege. CIA someone had said he was, didn't matter. He wasn't one of them, and he wasn't going home with them. He boarded the small, Air Force C-140 jet which would take him to Langley AFB for debriefing, her eyes warily following him from boarding the jet to take off.
“Krieger!” Fast Draw barked, bringing her back. “Would be nice to go home!” She shook her head, then jogged back to the awaiting Blackhawk. She took a seat in between Ripcord and Zap, who held fast to a sleeping Miguel.
"What do you think's going to happen?" She asked, nodding towards the boy. He missed what she was implying.
"Well, we're going to get back.... Ripcord would have been in some sort of training accident down at Benning. Hotseat, he probably got mugged. You, amiga..." He smiled. "Next time someone says duck, you duck..." She smiled back, nodding. "And Fast Draw..." he shrugged. "Was bound to happen sooner or later, someone's daddy put a bullet in him."
"No, I mean with Miguel..." She said, still smiling. He shook his head.
"No se." He said, looking at the sleeping boy, brushing a few strands of hair from his forehead. "I really don't know."


"Sir? Jaguar is approaching, ETA about 10 minutes." The young M.P. known simply as 'Law' informed him. Courage simply nodded, not looking up from the finally dossier he was reviewing. He checked his watch. Ten minutes. He'd be waiting. They climbed out of the UH-60 perhaps even more tired then when they'd first started home, muscles now stiff and achy, bodies weary from jet lag, seeing the proverbial light at the tunnel... they were home. They didn't expect the light to be an oncoming train named Colonel Courage. He stood on the apron, literally ready to pounce as he watched seven soldiers and one young boy climb out of the Blawkhawk onto the tarmac. The female specialist… Covergirl was the first to notice his lurking.
“Sorry, sir,” she said, throwing up a lethargic salute. “Didn't see you there.” The others followed suit, not noticing Courage didn't return a single one.
“Pitiful.” He said aloud, causing them to stop gathering their gear from the craft.
“Sir?” Hotseat enquired, steadying himself against Heavy Metal.
“So this is Jaguar…” He began, slowly walking up and down in front of them, eyeing them one at a time. They stood still, half out of curiosity, half out of disbelief. “I feel I should congratulate you, Jaguar." He emphasized the team name, almost disdainfully. "You had a long and difficult assignment, it seems..." She fought the urge to wipe a weary eye as he droned on. Couldn't this wait? She must have mumbled the last part aloud, because he was on her in a second. “I'm sorry, Specialist, what was that?” He asked putting a hand to his ear. She controlled herself from rolling her eyes, knowing that would only make it worse.
“Meaning no disrespect, Sir, we have three men in need of medical attention, and you're right, the assignment was long….”
“Do you think I have nothing better to do?” He challenged. She didn't answer. “Do you think I come out to the tarmac often, just to greet returning troops?”
“No sir.” She said, defeated.
“Then if it's quite all right with you, Specialist Krieger, I'd kind of like to continue. Unless of course, you'd like to buck for another smudge on your permanent record back at Knox?” She didn't respond. “I thought so.” He continued. “Now, as I was saying, Jaguar…. I know you've had a long and difficult assignment. And though that would explain why your judgment was so clouded, it sure as hell doesn't excuse it, does it?” The team remained silent. Best to let him blow up, get it over with and out of his system, then let him huff away. “I was willing to overlook certain things.. I was willing to overlook the fact that despite the fact that this was a reconnaissance assignment, you still took it upon yourselves to engage the enemy prematurely...." Was he kidding? Cover Girl's thoughts screamed. Engage the enemy? Shit we did everything to avoid the enemy! "I was willing to overlook the fact that your sitereps were pitiful, to say the least. But this... this is a gross example of insubordination and disobeying direct orders. Normally, I'd give you a few minutes to explain your actions but you... you soldiers, and I use the term very loosely don't deserve to take up my time. Let me tell you what I see here... I see before me seven screw ups..." He gave them yet another once over before continuing. “Seven individuals with absolutely no respect for authority. Let me be the first to inform you that I for one, have no intention of tolerating any sort of rogue force on this team, which means that you had better damn well learn to tow the line...." He stopped short in front of Hotseat, still leaning slightly on Heavy Metal. The bastard had to see how bad off he looked… yet he still was giving him a hard time. “Provost… I read your file. Career man, correct?” He turned his back before Hotseat could answer, continuing his tirade. “Do you understand the term “Direct Order? Were you or were you not given such a direct order when it came to returning with the child? Do you think we're running a day care center, Sergeant?” He wasn't letting up, wasn't giving Hotseat the chance to answer even. “I can have your retirement for this…. Did you think about that... or did you even think at all….” He noticed Ripcord glaring at him from the corner of his eye, turning his attention to the ragged looking specialist standing to the right of the NCO. “Is there something you want to say, Specialist?” He asked coldly.
"With all due respect, sir. “ Ripcord grumbled. “Lay the hell off."
"Lay the hell off.... " He repeated, slowly, this time circling behind Weems. "I could. Or I could remember that this is a military unit, and is supposed to act accordingly, couldn't I Specialist? Do you think that's too much to ask for?" Ripcord kept his eyes forward, but raised his voice.
"That's a negative sir, but we've been humping through a jungle for a week. We've almost forgotten what it's like to NOT be hot, tired, and hungry. We're wounded and spent, mentally and physically. I think this one time, military protocol would survive a bending."
“Oh, I see. " He said, condescendingly. "That's right. You deserve special treatment, I'd forgotten. You'll forgive me for not rolling out the red carpet. What you call 'bending', I call a complete and total lack of respect for authority, unacceptable in any instance, don't you agree?” Ripcord narrowed his eyes and stared at Courage. Covergirl and the rest of the team holding their breathes collectively.
"I think your full of shit.” She let her jaw drop, not quite expecting that. He hesitated a second before continuing, defensively. “What? You're gonna bust me down? Throw a few Article Fifteens at me? How's a guy who commands nothing but a desk at the Pentagon gonna shake down a special instructor at Benning?"
"How? Congratulations, son, you just bought yourself your first black mark down there in Fort Benning." The colonel circled one more time, stopping directly in front of Ripcord, staring hard. He stood just inches from him, cap brims near touching. "Seems like you took it upon yourself to strike an officer... how do you think that's going to look on your permanent record?" His eyes still narrowed, he stared directly into the Colonel's, stating flatly:
"Well if that'll go on my record then I'll take advantage of it." Oh shit. She wasn't sure if she'd said it aloud or not, but she knew it was coming. Seemingly out of nowhere, Ripcord's fist flashed out landing a devastating blow square on the side of Courage's face. The colonel fumbled backwards into the Blackhawk, using the vehicles hull to keep himself from falling. She couldn't help but smile. She began to pick up her remaining ALICE gear from the ground, staring at Ripcord.
“Jesus...” She said shaking her head. “I'm sure glad that didn't just happen.” She emphasized the word 'that,' still giving half a smirk, which Ripcord returned.
“What didn't happen, Amiga?” Zap asked, smiling himself as he picked up Miguel.
“Thought I might have heard something…” From Fast Draw, as he cracked his neck. “But I guess not, Skyboy. What says you, Heavy Metal?” He didn't verbally respond, instead shaking his head and casting his eyes downward. Hotseat as well shook his head.
“We'll discuss… “ He stared over at Courage, and changed his mind. “I mean, not having the ability to think would also cloud my ability to remember.” The team fell silent, looking towards Repeater who still wore that same damned expression.
“Hell…” He replied after a second of silence. “I ain't seen shit.” The team half choked/half laughed, as Courage finally regained his bearing.
“This is bullshit! This is just… bullshit!” He repeated, looking to the lone MP She cursed under her breath. They were busted for sure. “Goddammit, Law, I want him arrested….”
“For what, Sir?” Law asked, innocently. “You really should be more careful. This tarmac does get kind of slippery when wet." Turning towards the team, he added: "Come on, let's get your wounded to the infirmary, the rest of you can report for debriefing…”
“You aren't going to get away with this!” He called after them, as they dragged themselves away from the Blackhawk and towards the central complexes…”Mark my words!” She'd grabbed some of his ALICE gear as well as her own, seeing him visibly shaking a bit harder, coming down from the combat stimulant. She knew the withdrawals had a lot to do with what had just taken place, or rather, not taken place, but some of it had been him, too. He placed a hand around her shoulder, her fighting wincing as his fingers touched her battered arm, the gesture far outweighing the slight twinge of pain it caused. She could feel him lean on her slightly, and said nothing, as she walked him behind the others towards the infirmary.
"I don't think I'm gonna miss being respectable in the eyes our dear Colonel." He said, sarcastically.
"I don't think you have a choice." She told him. "Seeing as you didn't just deck him and all." She could hear her teammates up ahead, talking about it themselves.
"Aww, Colonel fall down go boom." from Fast Draw, followed by a quick..
"No big loss to me." From Zap.
"C'mon people, let's drop it. It was a disgusting display." Hotseat chastised. After a brief moment, he added..."You should've used the upper cut, kid."
“Never been part of a rogue force before.” She quipped, as they reached the infirmary doors. He shook his head.
“You think it will stick?” He asked. She looked at the motley looking crew ahead of her… Hotseat, the father figure, Fast Draw, the obnoxious fuck, Heavy Metal the whiner, Repeater, the watcher, Zap the saint, and turned back to Ripcord, the superman. She nodded. She was sure it would stick.

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