G.I. Joe: Doomsday Protocol

Chapter 4: Up Close & Personal

A series of jerks jarred Stalker into consciousness. He opened his eyes to see a collection of hot springs emitting steam from far beneath him, each jerk bringing him higher and higher, further and further from the warm air generated by the hot springs. He slowly looked up to see what was moving him. The B.A.T. had found him. It was pulling on his tattered parachute, standing on an outcropping above him that was naturally formed on the side of the volcano. Stalker immediately started unfastening his parachute pack. He freed his left arm and began working on his right by the time he was suddenly swung way up into the air. The B.A.T. had yanked him up, arced him over, and slammed him down onto the far end of the same outcropping.

Stalker landed on his chest; the wind being knocked out of him. He didn't harp on it, instead, reaching for his holster, hoping his pistol was still there. It was. He pulled it free. The B.A.T. stepped on his hand before he could fire a round. Stalker stifled his scream as his fingers were crushed. The B.A.T. then kicked the gun away.

His hand now free, Stalker scurried onto his back, landing a strong kick to the B.A.T.s weakened knee joint. Nothing. The B.A.T. grabbed Stalker's right leg, then put his foot on Stalker's chest to hold him in place, and twisted. Stalker's right leg snapped at the hip. Sweat poured down his face as he stifled his scream again. "I know what you're trying to do," he spit out between winces of agony. "You want me to yell out in pain. Get my friends to come back looking for me so that you can pick them off." Stalker pulled his knife, threatening the android with it. "Good luck with that."

The B.A.T. replied with his own large knife that flipped into place, replacing his wrist-mounted handgun like a Swiss Army Knife. It was as large as a bayonet.

Stalker swallowed hard. This was going to hurt, and he knew it.

The B.A.T. heard something. It turned back to the cliff-side that overlooked the hot springs. There it was again, the sound of rocks bouncing off trees. It zeroed in on one. It was a small rock, thrown through the air.

Stalker heard footsteps and a guttural growl as Beach Head ran right past him. The B.A.T. turned quickly to face him, but not fast enough. Beach Head held his fire for fear of ricochets hitting Stalker. Instead, he used his rifle like a bat, coming to a complete halt right next to the Battle Android and swinging hard. It was a home run, relatively speaking. The B.A.T. tilted backward, falling head over feet into one of the hot springs seventy feet below.

Beach Head watched the B.A.T. make impact and spring back to its feet. Not the outcome Beach Head was anticipating. He looked at his rifle, it was now bent, useless, from slamming it into the android trooper. He threw it to the ground and helped Stalker to his feet. "How are you, sir?"

Stalker was elsewhere, somewhere dark - which is exactly where Beach Head was fearful Stalker would go if things went south. "Sir!" Beach Head iterated with more force.

Stalker blinked out of it, his eyes rolling up to Beach Head. "Doing well, doing well." He tried to stand on his right foot, letting out a scream as a result; the pain from the broken hip shot throughout his body.

"How bad is it?"

Stalker winced, "The leg or the hand? Both CATFU."

"Shooter and Firewall, this is Beach Head. How copy?"

There was no reply on the thought mics.

He tried again. "This is Beach Head. Shooter and Firewall, how copy?" Still nothing. They must be too far away, he told himself, and without the boosted relay support of Overwatch's Osprey they would require closer proximity to communicate. He kneeled down and picked up Stalker's pistol, putting it in Stalker's good hand.

"Where are we headed, soldier?" Stalker asked him.

Beach Head faced Stalker north so he could see what was visible just above the tree canopy; the island's Terror Drome. That answered Stalker's question.