That’s what Colton called me. Miles Mayhem.
I must admit, I didn’t like it at first. It felt like an insult. It wasn’t my fault I couldn’t get along with anyone. I was smarter, I was stronger, and I was more experienced than either Stone or Power, or that chromedomed superhero Colton had roped in. I’d known Colton since the war, before he ever became “G.I. Joe.” He, Blondie, and I started the Adventure Team, working in secret to take down forces regular soldiers couldn’t stand against. Fighting for freedom wherever there was trouble: Land, Sea, and Air. I was a good soldier. I was a good friend.
Where did that good man go?
Maybe it was our first encounter with the Intruders, when I saw we weren’t alone in the universe. Maybe it was Blondie’s death, where I realized we weren’t as invincible as we thought. Maybe it was after we met Captain Action or whatever his name was, who I knew could accomplish on his own what the entire Team had to do together. Or maybe it was when I finally decided to shave my beard. Who knows? At some point, the good soldier was gone, replaced with an angry schemer looking out for himself above all others.
Years later, after the Adventure Team was mothballed for that disaster of a group Colton ran, I realized what Joe meant by the name “Mayhem.” I didn’t cause mayhem for us, but for our enemies. I had a special talent for disrupting plans and destroying foes. It was a compliment. A name to live by.
And live by it I did.
I worked my way up, eventually gaining a seat in nearly every powerful government agency in the country. The CIA, FBI, S.T.A.R.S., Skywatch, the EDC, UNECOM, you name it.
Working with the Earth Defense Command, I brought my unique talent to the table. When the Decepticons arrived to broker an alliance with us, I knew that such an arrangement would be useful. Oh sure, they were clearly lying through their… well, I guess giant robots might have teeth. Even if it ended in disaster (which was more than inevitable), the benefits that acquiring Cybertronian technology would have would outweigh the cost of human casualties. Perhaps we could use their ability to transform to improve our own weapons and vehicles. But even I couldn’t begin to imagine how perfect the timing would be.
Now, as I sit staring at the mangled remains of one of the robots, listening to Colton and Scarlett discuss the dangers of Ore-13, I see that I was right. With my experience, I knew a day would come when normal soldiers and operatives wouldn’t be enough. We would need secret raiders, able to neutralize any threat as soon as they arrived. No one would know what lies behind their masquerade. And now that day is here.
Optimus Prime was forcing us into the cosmic community, an alien mineral was becoming increasingly more unstable and threatening to tear the planet apart, and what looked like a knight from space was incinerating people across the country. Any number of other threats could appear soon, big or small. It’s as if the venom in Earth’s blood is finally about to reach the heart. Time to take off the mask of a retired old general.
Time for Miles Manheim to cause some mayhem.