The Trouble with Angels

The Trouble With Angels Angel, Interrogator Daraa Camp - Syria - Western Africa 06-28-2013 Over Hills and Dael Angel is visited by Interrogator and soon reveals he has more than physical injuries.: Daraa Camp - Syria - Western Asia

A military camp has been established east of a major highway running north-south through Daraa Governate in the south of the country. Many tents sprawl throughout this area. Military vehicles are parked neatly at the east end of the camp, and a pair of Rattler jets sits beside a Mamba helicopter at the north edge.

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Angel is lying in a medical cot, in the med tent of camp. His shoulder been heavily bandaged, after surgery to remove two bullets. His face is still swollen from being on the end of a roundhouse kick, but luckily his broken nose was easily repaired. He's in a light sleep right now, but he's not sleeping well.





Interrogator enters the medical tent and looks around. Spotting the sleeping sniper, he walks over as quietly as he can and looks at the chart. He shakes his head and says quietly, "They really got you bad."





Angel groans quietly, and his eyes open slightly as he hears a voice. "...G'morning, sir." he says, eyes opening more fully. "My position got rushed... No good in close quarters combat I'm afraid..." He shifts a little bit, wincing. "What about you, sir? I thought I saw your Mamba get hit hard?"





" Luckily, it was nothing that a couple of Tylenol and a hot shower couldn't fix. I was worried about Gargoyle, but he made it back to camp safely. The pod he was in was written off, but I always have spares shipped in. How are you feeling, Angel?" Interrogator says.





"Like I pissed someone off." He starts to chuckle, but quickly stops because it hurts. "The meds they gave me let me sleep, but my nose feels like its a giant ball of pain, and I can't move my left shoulder." He shifts again, trying to get as comfortable as possible.





Interrogator says, "You probably need to relax for a few days. The Medi-Vipers do excellent work. To be honest, I thought it would be worse for us than it was, though I have not heard official reports."

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<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">"Yeah; you're probably right sir. I should take it easy until my shoulder heals up, at least." Angel falls silent for a while, breathing deeply. "How was it for us, sir?" The sniper licks his dry lips. "You really can't get a good feel for the battlefield through a scope; just a lot of small pieces that don't add up to the full equation."

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<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">Interrogator says, "It was hard telling, with the lack of radio communication. The rebels looked like they were too shell shocked to put up much resistance. I was able to complete a successful bombing run before that Skystriker arrived. I was occupied with that until I had to retreat."

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<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">"What about casualties?" Angel asks, gingerly touching his bandaged nose. He scratches as best he can, without using too much pressure. He relaxes, and settles back down into his cot. "The rebels didn't really stand a chance, but there's always luck on the battlefield."

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<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">"I do not know. When Cobra Commander graces us with his presence, even if only on the radio, my first priority is to get the Mamba fully operational. If he decides to lead us in person, I do not think he would be pleased if there was no way for him to view our work. If you thought the bombing was impressive from the ground, you should have seen it from the air. It was the first time I have seen those type of bombs used."

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<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">Angel nods, smiling a little. "Those were impressive bombs. Pretty much leveled the town..." He grows silent for a while again, obviously in pain, even with the pain meds taking the edge off. "It's a victory, right? We did what we had to do, and did it well."

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<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">Interrogator says, "I agree, though it would have been a more complete victory if we had been able to capture General Hawk." He continues nervously, "Cobra Commander knows we tried our best, I hope."

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<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">Angel shifts again, and coughs a bit. He rubs his right eye a bit as he thinks. "Hawk is really slippery. Maybe he should change his name to Toad or something." There's dry humor in his voice. It's apparent that he does hold respect for the General, but he isn't going to let that stop him from making jokes.

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<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">Interrogator asks, "How many targets do you think you hit before you were attacked? I thought you had a good strategy going with your position."

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<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">Angel looks up at the ceiling as he thinks. "... I got a good dozen, I would think. I tried to pick out my targets carefully. Aimed for squad leaders." He coughs again, nothing serious. "When you have to load each round by hand, you learn to economical with your shots. Lesson that was drilled into me."

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<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">Interrogator says, "That was a good strategy. Did you hear how the battle ended? I know we captured a lot of prisoners.

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<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">Angel shakes his head. "No, I didn't hear. I must've passed out after I got loaded up on the transport back." He pauses in thought. "Either that, or a Medi_Viper gave me something."

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<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">Interrogator says, "I would say they gave you something. A dozen is impressive. I could never reload that quickly by hand. That is why all my guns have clips."

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<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">"My skill was bought with many pinched fingertips." Angel says, chuckling. "You just need to practice, practice, and keep practicing until you don't need to think anymore."

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<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">Interrogator nods and says kindly, "It takes quite the dedication to become good at what you do, though if you love it, you do not mind. Can I get you anything from your quarters?"

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<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">Angel smiles, warmed by Interrogator's friendly demeanor. "Yeah, actually. Could you get y music player? It should be on my cot; I listen to music to help me relax." He gives Interrogator a wry grin. "I need to get Wiretap's music out of my head."

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<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">Interrogator chuckles and says, "Yes, I can. I will be back shortly." He turns to leave and asks, "Anything else while I am there? Do you want to check your rifle for damage? I have heard they can be rather delicate because of their complexity."

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<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">Angel has fallen back into a light dose, muttering incomprehensibly from time to time.

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<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">Ten minutes later, Interrogator returns with the music player and the book. He listens as Angel mutters, trying to make sense of it.

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<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">It's hard to hear just what Angel is saying, but he sounds mildly distressed. Some sort of nightmare, perhaps?

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<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">Interrogator activates his voice modulator and says quietly, "I brought the requested items. What is wrong?"

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<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">Angel lets out a surprised 'uhh?' as he wakes up, and looks momentarily confused before he realizes who's talking to him. "Oh, sorry sir. Must've drifted of... I must have been dreaming." He cringes slightly. "I... didn't say anything... unfortunate, did I?"

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<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">Interrogator says calmly, "No, nothing that made sense. Is it something you wanted to make an appointment about?" He hands Angel the items one at a time so he doesn't try to use move his injured shoulder.

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<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">Angel accepts the items, looking relieved. "Thank you..." He puts the music player by his side, and the book on his lap. "Well... yes. I haven't..." He fingers the pages of the book for a while. "I haven't been sleeping well recently." he says finally.

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<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">"That is unfortunate." Interrogator says sympathetically. "Do you know what triggered the sleeplessness?"

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<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">"I think I've been having nightmares." Angel says, relaxing. Something about Interrogator put him at ease, but he couldn't put it into words. "I've been tossing in my sleep, at least. I find my legs tangled in the bedsheets."

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<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">Interrogator asks gently, "Do you remember what the nightmares are about? Do you feel paranoid or anxious?

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<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">Angel thinks for a moment. "I do feel anxious when I wake up, sometimes." He pauses again. "I think I'm either running after someone... or running away."

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<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">Interrogator asks, "Do you remember anything else about the nightmares, for example, when did they start? Have they increased in frequency over time? Do they seem worse after certain events?"

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<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">Angel thinks carefully before he answers Interrogator. "...I'd say they started a year ago, if I really think about it. I didn't get them all that often, and only after combat; so I thought it was just leftover nerves from battle. That makes sense, right?"

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<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">Interrogator says thoughtfully, "Yes, it makes sense. Have you been feeling loss of interest in your favorite activities, anger or irritability?"

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<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">Angel nibbles his lower lip as he thinks. "Well, maybe not a loss of interest, but... Sometimes I feel, sad. Just, sad." He stops himself suddenly, looking bit flustered. Maybe he's embarrassed to admit that he felt sad about something?

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<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">Interrogator says gently, "There is no reason to get flustered. It happens to us all. How long do you feel sad for?"

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<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">Angel shrugs a bit. "Half an hour, maybe? Music helps me get out of my funk..." He toys with book on his lap, flipping the cover up and shut without paying it much attention.

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<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">Interrogator asks, "Music is a good coping mechanism for sadness. How often do you feel sad? Is there anything that causes you to feel sad, or does it happen at random?"

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<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">Angel thinks for a little while. "I suppose I feel sad if I have too much time to let my mind wander." As he continues to fiddle with the book, while not really paying it mind, what looks like a small bookmark falls from the pages and drifts to the floor.

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<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">Interrogator says, "Something seems to have fallen from your book. Allow me to retrieve it for you." Interrogator crouches and picks up the bookmark.

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<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">The bookmark is actually a small photograph, that appears to have been carried in many different ways, as it's slightly crinkled and the edges are worn smooth. The photo is of a lovely woman with light-brown hair, with two boys the age of 11 or 12, one on each side of her. The boys are identical with blond hair. The only difference between the two is their eye color; one has violet eyes, the other has green.

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<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">Angel blushes, and stammers a bit. "Oh... T-thank you.." he says, nervously.

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<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">Interrogator studies the picture for a moment and asks, Is this your Mother and twin?"

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<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">You see a rather average Cobra Viper. He wears the standard uniform as the other soldiers serving under Cobra Commander. What makes this Viper a bit different is that he doesn't have a helmet on, revealing messy blond hair, and green eye, On his person he has a AWSM sniper rifle, as well as a M-1911A1 pistol.

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<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">Angel nods slightly meekly raising his hand for the photo. "Yeah... My mom, Melisande. Isn't she beautiful?"

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<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">Interrogator asks, "Yes, she is. Are you still in contact with her?" He hands the photo to the reaching Viper.

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<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">Angel takes the photo from Interrogator, and looks at it fondly for a long moment, a mix of emotions in his eyes. "...I write letters, when I can. I don't know if she's gotten any of them." he admits, still looking at the picture. "I've never gotten a letter back."

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<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">" How does that make you feel? Have you ever asked your brother about her when you two meet?" asks Interrogator.

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<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">Angel closes his eyes, and it seems he's reigning in his emotions. "I miss her." he says simply, opening his eyes again. "I haven't spoken wit Jayson since... a while back. I helped him with his car when he was stalled out somewhere. We... didn't spare much words for each other."

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<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">Interrogator says, "The less you speak to your brother, the better, in my opinion. You never know when something that seems inconsequential to you turns out to be vital intelligence for G. I. Joe. As for your Mother, perhaps I should try writing her. If she does not respond, then we may have to start thinking of other options of meeting her."

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<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">"I..." Angel sighs, running a thumb over the picture. "I love my brother. It feels wrong to think of him as 'the enemy'. I know that's what I have to do, I have to buck up and do what's expected of me..." He frowns. "I know he still cares for me; he was trying to talk me out of Cobra." Angel smiles, just a little bit. "And dammit if he wasn't cute about it. He really knows me."

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<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">Interrogator shakes his head slightly and asks, "Do you ever try to convince him to join Cobra? Where does your Father fit into your life?

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<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">Angel shakes his head, never looking away from the picture of two happy boys and their mother. "Well... I tried. No, not really. I asked if he ever thought about joining Cobra, and he said no. That was kind of the end of it." Angel sighs. "He says he wants to help me, wants what's best for me.. and I know in his heart he believes it. It's hard to argue against that." Angel remains silent on the topic of his father.

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<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">Interrogator nods, but thinks to himself, "What does that say about his commitment to Cobra?" Out loud he asks again, gently this time, "How does your father fit into this?"

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<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">Angel makes a face, laying the picture down on his chest. "My dad... I don't even know where to start..." He sighs, very lightly rubbing his left shoulder. "Well, I'll start at the beginning, or close to it. Dad always liked Jace better than me; Jace was better in sports, in grades - at least that's how it seemed. Dad always asked me why I couldn't be more like my twin." The sniper closes his eyes. "I was never good enough."

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<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">Interrogator asks, "Is he still alive? You seem to refer to him in the past tense a lot in that speech."

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<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">Angel blinks, and thinks for a moment, as if replaying what he had said to himself. "Dad's alive - well, as far as I know. I think Jace would have mentioned if he had bit it." It's clear from his tone that he might not care much if that happened. "I haven't spoken to my father since he and I screamed at each other for an hour; after that he told me he never wanted to see me again. So I obliged the man; first time in my life I've ever done something just as he wanted."

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<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">Interrogator asks, obviously curious, "What brought on the screaming?"

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<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">Angel actually smirks a little. "Two stubborn fools who have trouble talking out their problems." he says, chuckling. "It was a lot of things going to the fore all at once. He wasn't happy about me dropping out of Basic. Actually, the only reason I joined up was because Jace did. I really didn't have any love for the US. I mean, I lived there, but I didn't like all of the political stuff."

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<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">Interrogator asks, "Do you find Cobra more aligned to your world views?"

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<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">Angel nods. "Of course. I mean, why else would I be here?" He looks at his hands, slowly working his left hand to get rid off some tightness. "Cobra gave me something to believe in. Something worth fighting for."

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<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">Interrogator says, "That is good. I think you should try sending your parents one more letter. If they do not respond to that letter, I will try sending them one. If they do not respond to that one, I will see if High Command will approve a visit to them. I am quite good at sneaking into that country." He says 'that country' with scorn.

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<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">Angel seems surprised by Interrogator's words. "You... You'd do all of that, for me?" the young man looks stunned for a moment, and then smiles rather broadly. "I don't think that's necessary... but, thank you." Angel says, seeming touched by the offer.

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<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">Interrogator says, "To be honest, you are showing signs of post tramatic stress disorder or depression, both of which are serious mental heal diseases. If we can treat this without drugs or hypnotism, it would be to the benefit of Cobra and all others involved."

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<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">Angel seems surprised by Interrogator's words. "You... You'd do all of that, for me?" the young man looks stunned for a moment, and then smiles rather broadly. "I don't think that's necessary... but, thank you." Angel says, seeming touched by the offer.

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<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">Interrogator says, "To be honest, you are showing signs of post tramatic stress disorder or depression, both of which are serious mental heal diseases. If we can treat this without drugs or hypnotism, it would be to the benefit of Cobra and all others involved."

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<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">Angel blushes a bit, looking a bit sheepish. "I appreciate the concern though... I guess I'd forgotten what it felt like to be concerned for." He scratches at his nose again, as gently as possible. "I... I feel a lot better than I have been, injuries not included in that." He looks at Interrogator, the first time in a while. He does seem much more alert and clear-headed. "I think I just needed to stop bottling all of this up."

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<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">Interrogator says, "Keep me informed of what you need me to do. I am always willing to talk."

<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">Angel nods again, smiling despite his injures. "I'll keep that in mind, sir. Back... back before Cobra found me, I really couldn't trust anyone. I'm getting used to the idea again."

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<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">"That is also good, Angel. Try to remember not to tell your brother what we are planning if it gets to the visit stage. You might want to ask him how your parents are if you two happen to meet again or have a way of contacting him." Interrogator says in a happy tone.

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<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">Angel nods, confidently. "I won't tell Jace anything. He doesn't talk about his work at the Joes. It's... an unspoken agreement, I guess." He smiles. "I wonder if he's gotten a similar talking to by... whoever handles the mental aspect over in the Joe camp."

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<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">Interrogator says ruefully, "That one calls himself Psyche-Out, and I have not had any direct dealings with him."

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<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">Angel rubs his shoulder. "I wonder how that encounter would go." he wonders, mostly to himself. "Anyway... I really am grateful. To you, for taking time to listen to me. And to Cobra for giving me a chance to do something with my life."

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<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">Interrogator says, "I am just doing my job. Cobra looks after all of its soldiers."

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