G. I. Joe Fan Fiction ❯ The Gunner and the Grease-Monkey ❯ Chapter 2

GI JOE Season 3 : episode 1

“The Gunner and the Grease-Monkey”

Chapter 2

20th arrondissement - 1951 hrs

RoadBlock and CoverGirl arrived in Paris with little incident. Their flight was long so they were allowed some time to freshen up at their hotel rooms. When the DGSE agents picked them up from the hotel, they were able to take in some of the sights of the surrounding arrondissement (or district). The view from the passenger's seat was modest but scenic with a number of working-class neighborhoods. The 19th century architecture of the many tightly-packed buildings and narrow streets gave it an old-world charm.

They arrived at DGSE headquarters and were escorted to the 4th floor which was apparently reserved for the counter-terrorism division. The elevator doors opened into a small lobby with a security station. After they were signed in, they were escorted through a set of electronic double-doors into the main office which consisted of 20 desks in the open area manned by agents. There was an office set in each corner of the room that was reserved for command personnel.

“Mademoiselle, monsieur please wait here; the director will be right with you,” said the agent, before he walked to one of the corner offices.

“Hmph,” RoadBlock grunted.

“What is it?”

“I don't know. Its certainly functional, but I was expecting something more - impressive.”

“Well not everyone has GI JOE's budget.”

“These days even GI JOE doesn't have GI JOE's budget,” RoadBlock said, as he adjusted his collar. He was visibly uncomfortable.

“For heaven's sake, what is it now?”

“I haven't worn this uniform in years. I don't remember it being so tight.”

“I know what you mean,” said CoverGirl, as she straightened her skirt around her hips. “I think mine must have shrunk.”

“At least yours 'shrunk' in all the right places. Tell me again why we have to wear our Army Greens?”

“BeachHead said it had something to do with protocol and professionalism and - I don't know, I wasn't really listening.”

“I guess I can put up with it for now, but this heat isn't helping. Aargh!”

“Stop whining you big baby. I think I see our new CO over there.”

The director of the CIA/DGSE task force - Dr. Emile Metier came over to introduce himself. He was a short middle-aged man with thin gray hair and a pencil mustache. He had a good-natured countenance but, despite his mild manner, had an air that commanded respect. Accompanying him was Agent Evrard - the DGSE field team leader for that division. He was a tall man in his early 30's with brown wavy hair and piercing green eyes. When he shook CoverGirl's hand, she appreciated the fact that he looked her in the eyes - not giving her the dreaded “elevator stare” that most men give her on first contact. After introductions were made and a brief tour given, the four of them settled into the briefing room.

“Sergeant CoverGirl and Sergeant RoadBlock --”

“Just 'CoverGirl' and 'RoadBlock' are sufficient Dr. Metier,” CoverGirl interjected.

“Very well, CoverGirl and RoadBlock I realize the hour is late and you must be tired from your long flight so if you need to rest --”

“We would like to get started right away sir,” said RoadBlock. He looked to CoverGirl for confirmation; she nodded in agreement.

“As you wish. Lets start first with some of the more classified material that is not in your dossiers. This cooperative is actually a continuation of the Worldwide Defense Center project that I and a group of sociologists started several years ago. It was an attempt to collect all the world's information on terrorists activities into one master database. The goal, of course, was to stop terrorism.”

“If memory serves,” CoverGirl added, “GI JOE ran security for that operation. Is that why you requested a GI JOE presence Dr. Metier?”

“No. Actually I was originally against GI JOE involvement. While I was impressed with your team's anti-terror tactics, it was obvious that you were created specifically to counter the Cobra threat. As a result, you operate from the paradigm that all terrorism is influenced by criminal organizations. I believe that this reasoning is glib and counter-productive. My approach is more proactive in that it addresses the root causes of terrorist activity. Through patient intelligence-gathering and profiling, I believe it is possible to track patterns of behavior before they lead to violence. Even going so far as to provide potential offenders a forum to address their grievances without fear of prosecution.”

“In other words, we try to catch them while they're young and idealistic,” Agent Evrard added. “However, even Freud said, 'sometimes a cigar is just a cigar.' Thats why I pushed for you JOEs to get involved: to give Dr. Metier's vision a counter-balance. If you sign off on this, it could give us the legitimacy we need.”

“Unfortunately, with Cobra inactive GI JOE's voice doesn't carry the weight back home that it used to,” RoadBlock said.

“I'm sorry to hear that,” Agent Evrard responded. “But maybe we could help each other yet. GI JOE still has considerable repute with the rest of the world. If this cooperative is a success, it could buy you valuable leverage - don't you agree?”

“I'll buy that,” RoadBlock answered. “Dr. Metier you said this project was a 'continuation'. May I ask what happened with the work you started at the Worldwide Defense Center?”

“It failed miserably,” Dr. Metier said, with disdain.

“Oh? Why is that?” CoverGirl asked.

“It started on too grand a scale. With all the politics involved it degenerated into a - how do you American's say - a 'pissing contest'. I have learned from that mistake, and this time we are starting small and working outward. Member nations who wish to join must apply by charter. As we gain acceptance I expect our membership will grow.”

“Dr. Metier, I also get the impression that the support for what you're trying to accomplish here is shaky at best,” RoadBlock mused. “I'm curious as to what prompted your government to give you the go ahead with this?”

“As you know, Monsieur RoadBlock, German unification is imminent. No one in the intelligence community knows what to expect - especially given my country's history with Germany. Cold war tactics don't apply anymore, thus I was able to capitalize on my government's hunger for 'unconventional' solutions,” Dr. Metier said, while glancing at his watch.

Dr. Metier continued, “I suppose this would be an appropriate segue into our current operation. Our intelligence operatives have been surveilling a radical group of student nationals affiliated with the communist party. They are protesting that unification is a capitalist scheme that will bring about economic collapse in Germany. Up until now their activities have been benign. However, we have evidence that they have been contacted by an Algerian terrorist cell leader. Ideally, I would like to counsel the students before they tread that slippery slope, but our primary goal is to apprehend the Algerian contact.”

“Do you have a strike team in place?” RoadBlock queried.

“Oui, we have an action team on standby,” Agent Evrard said, correcting him. “the operation will take place at midnight. You can sit in if you would like.”

“Definitely,” CoverGirl said, enthused.

“If there are no more questions,” Dr. Metier said - again checking his wristwatch, “Agent Evrard and I must take our leave of you to prepare for tonights raid. If you need anything, all of the agents here speak English. Adieu.”

RoadBlock and CoverGirl were left alone in the conference room. CoverGirl got up to close the door so they could have some privacy.

“So what do you think?” asked CoverGirl.

“I think the doctor's heart is in the right place, but I'm skeptical that this will work. Then again international politics isn't my area of expertise.”

“Me neither. I don't know how Hawk deals with this stuff everyday.”

“At least I'm starting to get an idea of what Hawk had in mind sending us here.”

“You mean 'us' as in me and you?”

“No - I'm still in the dark on that one - what I mean is 'us' as in GI JOE. You heard what Evrard said about gaining leverage with the international intelligence community--”

“Yes, but I don't think that this is what Hawk had in mind. It would imply that he's scrambling to get GI JOE busy work.”

“How do you figure? Terror is terror. And after all, GI JOE is--”

“GI JOE is the code name for America's daring highly-trained special mission force. Our purpose is to defend human freedom against Cobra: a ruthless terrorist organization determined to rule the world...why are you staring at me like that?”

“I've never heard our mission statement worded that way before, it sounds so - campy.”

“Really?” CoverGirl pondered on this point, but casually dismissed it. “Anyway, what I'm trying to say is this: if we have indeed succeeded in our mission to stop Cobra, then GI JOE is no longer a justifiable expenditure and should be disbanded...will you stop looking at me like that; it wasn't that bad!”

“I'm sorry,” RoadBlock held up his hands in surrender. “Tell you what: after we check in with BeachHead, lets go grab a bite to eat. I know this great place across the Seine.”

“Sure, but how do you know about it?”

“I spent some time here in Paris getting my certification from the Escoffier School of Culinary Arts. I've been to every restaurant worth eating at in this city.”

“Fine with me, but don't you think Hawk will mind us eating at someplace so Fancy?”

“Hey girl, I didn't come to Paris to eat at McDonald's”

6th arrondissement - 0255 hrs

By early morning, the streets in front of the Chalgrin Inn were quiet and deserted as an unmarked black van drove by - parking inconspicuously across the street. Hours before, 4 men from the DGSE entered the building and got a room to stake out a meeting between a group of student nationals and a known terrorist cell. However, the supposed time of the meeting had long passed. The room had been quiet all day and there were no signs of activity. Everyone involved in the DGSE action team was starting to get nervous. From inside the black van, the field team leaders: Dr. Metier, Agent Evrard, RoadBlock and CoverGirl were monitoring the operation.

“Agent Evrard, I think it is time to move in. Obviously our intel is flawed,” said Dr. Metier.

“I agree,” Agent Evrard replied. Putting in his ear piece and turning on the security monitors, he contacted the action team and gave the order to storm the room.

RoadBlock shook CoverGirl awake. Since Midnight, they took turns napping in the backseat of the van, “Wake up CoverGirl, its going down!”

RoadBlock and CoverGirl watched the monitor from the action team's helmet cams. The team stormed and secured the room with efficiency. However, what they could see from the monitors was disturbing: the bodies of 5 college students dead for several hours.

“Everyone be advised, this is now a crime scene,” Agent Evrard relayed solemnly.

Chalgrin Inn - 0713 hrs

It took a relatively short time for the DGSE forensics team to sweep the apartment. During that time, in an apartment down the hall, the team field leaders reviewed the video from the raid to plan their investigation. Once they were allowed to enter, they were instructed to wear latex gloves and shoe covers. As they approached the apartment entrance, RoadBlock and CoverGirl were greeted by the familiar stench of death. Inside they got a closer look at the decaying corpses - it was more visceral to behold in person as opposed to on video. The positions of the bodies had already been outlined and tagged. Forensics agents where still present, however, taking pictures and collecting samples from the scene.

“This one couldn't have been more than 18,” CoverGirl commented sadly, as she kneeled over one of the bodies.

“That is of age,” Agented Evrard said.

“Yea man, but they're still just kids,” RoadBlock replied.

“You're right of course,” Agent Evrard said soberly. “It looks like they were killed execution style by a single gunman. Notice the position of the first 3, they are still lined up and have gunshot wounds in the back of the head. The other 2 must have realized they had nothing to lose and rushed the gunman. They obviously weren't fast enough; they each took one to the forehead and ended up laying here.”

“Do we have a murder weapon?” Dr. Metier asked one of the techs.

“Yes we do,” the tech replied handing the gun to Agent Evrard in a hard foam-lined plastic box. “It is a 9mm automatic. We are about to send it to ballistics to match it with the slugs we pulled out of the baseboards.”

“This gun is registered,” Agent Evrard observed. “Did you trace it?”

“Yes sir,” the tech answered. “ It is registered to Marius Gaschot. His household reported a burglary break-in last week.”

“It makes sense,” Agent Evrard added, “it was probably stolen as a throw-away gun.”

“May I get a closer look at that gun?” RoadBlock asked curiously. He took the box from Agent Evrard and examined the gun closely without touching it. “CoverGirl come look at this.”

CoverGirl stood next to RoadBlock as he held the box open for her. After examining the pistol briefly, her face became pale. “You have got to be kidding me,” she whispered. She asked for permission to handle the gun. When she got it, she picked up the weapon and examined the chamber.

“What is it?” Agent Evrard asked, with a confused expression.

“Gentlemen,” CoverGirl illustratively held up the gun, “ this is a clone of a Heckler & Koch VP70 semi-auto pistol. This sucker has been modified to be able to fire both conventional 9mm Lugers or class E 'pulse rounds' - Standard Cobra issue.”

The room was silent for several seconds.

Dr. Metier finally broke the silence,“Lets not jump to conclusions. If the gun is indeed stolen it could have been modified after the fact.”

“There's 2 problems with that,” RoadBlock interrupted. ”One: why would the assassin go through the trouble of modifying the gun only to use conventional rounds, especially if he was going to throw it away anyway.”

“And two,” CoverGirl added. “Cobra tech is extremely hard to come by, even on the black market. This gun was modified before it was stolen. We should bring in this Marius Gaschot for questioning.”

“I'm afraid thats impossible mademoiselle,” The tech said nervously.

“Why is that?” asked an annoyed Agent Evrard.

The nervous tech replied, “When I looked into his registration records, he was designated as deceased.”

End Chapter 2