Chapter 8: New Recruit, Part 2

"Don't ya just love monsoon season?" Danvers snarked as she looked out the window of the dive bar where the rest of the team was waiting.

Parker was silent as he sipped his beer.

"I asked a question!"

"Pipe down, Danvers. I'm trying to figure out what I could have done in life that led me to drinking some cheap brew in a honky-tonk in Hong Kong." Abernathy piped up.

"Ya gonna buy something or not?!" the bartender squawked.

"Yeah, I'll have a whiskey sour." Danvers snapped.

Doc was mulling over a cocktail when he heard the bar telephone ring.

"Gooseman's Bar. Yeah, I'll get him."

The bartender turned around.

"Phone call for Carl Greer." he announced.

Doc walked over to the bar and took the phone.

"Hello?"

"Doc, it's Colton. How're you enjoying your furlough?"

"Could be better. This call business or pleasure?"

"Business. We're heading back stateside shortly thanks to our new recruit and his…condition."

"New recruit?"

"Yes, we have a new recruit. His name's Nathaniel Summers— I'll explain more later."

"Understood, sir."

On a rooftop across the street sat a man clad in a suit of black body armor, goggles, and a mask covering the lower part of his face. A tape player lay at his side, along with a Heckler and Koch PSG1.

"Ground Control to Major Tom, Ground Control to Major Tom…"

The man adjusted his utility belt and secured his combat knife.

"Take your protein pills and put your helmet on…"

The bar door opened, and his target stepped out into the rainy streets of Hong Kong. The man reached for a portable microfiche reader and popped in a cartridge.

SUBJECT: GREER, CARL WILSON

DOB: APRIL 1, 1955

AFFILIATIONS: UNITED STATES ARMED FORCES- TASK FORCE "GI JOE"

RANK: SERGEANT-MAJOR

PRIMARY MOS: MEDIC

TARGET PRIORITY: HIGH- TERMINATE WITH EXTREME PREJUDICE

There was a faint whirring noise as the man reached for his rifle with his robotic left arm.

Target acquired. he thought.

He reached for the trigger and pulled.

Doc snapped to attention as the sound of a suppressed rifle firing rang out.

"What the-"

He ducked down just in time to avoid another shot.

"What the hell is going on here?!" he sputtered.

The sniper put away his gun and gear and leapt down from the rooftop, landing right in front of Doc.

"Hello there." he murmured.

AUTHOR'S NOTES:

The song our mysterious foe is listening to is David Bowie's Space Oddity.