VenturianTale Wiki
VenturianTale Wiki

Apocachalla Now is a fanfiction by ElectricFire 169 about Papa Acachalla in Vietnam.




Time: 10:24

Time of execution of Operation: 11:14

Operative: Cody

Cody shook his head. It didn't really help, as he felt more like pounding it against walls.


All day long.

Dubeq had been a complete write-off, and everyone knew it.

He couldn't go into work in the morning without sensing everyone in the room turning and staring at him in stony, unapologetic silence.

They knew. They all knew.

No-one more so than he.

He walked right past the canteen. Coffee was right off the agenda today. All it ever did was make him jumpy.

He walked into his superior’s office and sat down.

Decker Stokes was a dark, lean, unscrupulous man, with thinning hair and a thickening waist. There wasn’t any intel on how exactly he’d reached his position, but if his record was anything to go by, it was probably messy. Very messy.

At the moment he was buttering some toasted bagels.

“Sit down, Cody.” He said without turning around. Cody abruptly stood up and sat down again.

He turned around and took a bite out of the bagel, chewed and sat down at his massive desk.

“Pfo Bophie, Bfah happuh bat vhe op phite Mebupha?”

Cody shifted uneasily. “Uh, well sir-”

Decker swallowed. “Don’t bother, I read the reports.” He typed a command on his keyboard and suddenly the windows darkened and a section of wall opened up to reveal a large screen.

Cody whistled with genuine awe. “That must’ve set the budget back a bit.”

Stokes rolled his eyes and clicked the remote. A map of the world appeared on the screen with a big red dot hovering over

“What’s this?” Cody asked.

Stokes smirked menacingly. “A chance to atone for the sins of Dubeq.”

Cody shook his head again. “I’m sorry sir, I don’t understand.”

“Then let me enlighten you. As you will recall, the surviving members of your team are currently in hospital and your quarry went to ground, taking Medusa with them. This is where they went.”

Cody frowned. “What is it?”

“It’s a huge old underground system, they reckon it was gonna be used as a city-sized nuclear bunker in the event of nuclear war. It was called the Qeios project. Qeios, that’s spelled Q-E-I-O-S. Some unidentified party has seized the compound and they say they’ve been expanding and upgrading the systems.”

Cody nodded. “Sounds feasible, but the cost of maintaining an area that size alone must be…”

“Exactly. That’s why we need to get a team together, find out where they’re getting the supplies from, get in there, and take the city by force!” Stokes nearly dropped his bagel.

Once again, Cody shook his head. “How am I supposed to get Medusa back when I don’t even know what it looks like?”

“You’ll know. It runs in your family. I remember your father, Tom Cody. Best damned sniper in the whole of Dodge City. And his sister Reva too, she was good. You’re a little disappointing, of course, but that’s to be expected when you’re born into a family of really great people. It shouldn’t affect your self-esteem in any way.”

Cody said nothing, but quietly gave off a wave of existential anxiety. Finally he spoke: “Who do you have in mind?”

“Jonathan Logan and Scott Acachalla. The pair worked together during the war and they’re a deadly combination, and Acachalla has a history with Cleopatra so he’ll know how she thinks. We’ve arranged for a helicopter pilot from Los Santos to be loaned over to us, his name’s Lui. Chuck Norris was unavailable, so we’ve got Mr. T instead. We’ve also got a perp who just came in who looks like he could come in handy. We’re still working on it.”

“Lemme see him.”

* * * * *

The door slid open with an ominous metallic rattle. Cody stepped into the darkened room and flicked the lightswitch.

The man in the cell was sat on the right. He was roughly mid-thirties, with a chin-lengh – was it a mullet? – whatever his hairdo is called, and dressed in a black sleeveless vest, grey camouflage trousers and combat boots.

“You got a smoke?” he said without turning around.

Cody smirked. “You gotta nerve, bub.”

He turned to face Cody to reveal an eyepatch over his left eye.

“Call me Snake.”

Cody felt a chill down his spine. Not just another day at the office…

Chapter 1: Look Out Below![]

There was a light, and then he was falling.

He could see sky.




2… 1…


You could hear the scream in the next country.

Johnny Ghost tried to clutch at himself in various different areas at once. He failed.

In the treeline, there was a rustle and a distinctly British “Oof!”

Ghost looked up, winded. “Johnny? Is that you?” he said hoarsely.

“Sir?” came the reply.

“Johnny… I think… I think I hit… the ground too hard…”

Toast thought for a moment. “Okay sir, where does it hurt?”


“… I don’t have a first aid kit, sir.”

Ghost panted. “I’m gonna lean myself against the tree, see if I can pull myself into a standing position.”

There was a rustling in the treetop.

“Johnny? What’re you doing?”

“I’m seeing if I can climb down.” A foot stuck through the canopy.

“Uh, no, bad idea, that branch won’t take your-”

There was a terrible creaking noise and the entire section of woods collapsed and swung back, taking Johnny Toast with it.

For a moment, Johnny almost felt like he was weightless; supported by a cushion of air.

Then the laws of physics took hold of him and he plummeted like a stone. And not a British stone either.

Branches rushed past him. One caught him right between the knees and caused him great pain. He then toppled off this and landed headfirst on the stomach of his partner.

“Ugh!” said Toast.

“Cggg-gg-gh. Aaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhh.” Said Ghost.

“I’m ok, sir. Something cushioned my fall.” He looked down. “Oh. It was you, sir.”

Ghost nodded, with a hint of sarcasm. “You don’t say. Get off me.”

Toast obliged and helped Ghost up. He stretched for a moment and double checked for any injuries. “Well, it hurts when I laugh, but I don’t think that’s going to be a problem. Any idea where we are Johnny? It looks kind of sub-tropical. We’re not back on that island again, are we, because I for one am not in the mood for another round of that. Ruined my best shirt.” Johnny though for a moment. “We are still on Earth, right?”

Johnny surveyed his surroundings. “Hmm. I think it’s safe to say we’re still on Earth. Tell me if you see any planets in the sky.”

Ghost nodded.

“So assuming we’re still on Earth… Hmm, let’s see. Temperature, humidity, what’s the wind direction…” He gave his finger a lick before sticking it in the air. After a few seconds he wiped it off and put it down again. “Yep, we’re definitely somewhere near the equator. I don’t think it’s Africa, might be Asia. Then again, it could be Mexico, Brazil, the Congo, Indonesia-”

“Indonesia!” Ghost declared. “Why did you have to bring up Indonesia?”

Toast sighed. “It was an example.” He continued: “From the position of the sun I’d say it’s around midday, early Summertime.” He shrugged. “That’s all I got, sir.”

Ghost nodded. “Hmm. Question.”


“How can you see the sun through the trees?”

Toast shrugged. “I could see it at the top of the trees. You see sir-”

Before Toast could finish, there was a very loud noise.

“What was that?” asked Toast.

“I don’t know. It’s coming from over there somewhere.”

“Quick, after it!”

And with that, they took off into the trees beyond.

Chapter 2: Round Up the Usual Suspects[]

Ghost shook his head. “I just can’t understand how we lost it. I thought your hearing was “impeccable”. I don’t even know what that word means! But it sounds clever!”

“Sir, there’s a mountain range nearby, it’s throwing off my-”

Toast’s ears pricked up again.

“Oh no. You’re not sensing Macaroni again, are you?”

Toast shot Ghost a dirty look.

“Okay, you’re not. You getting the sound again?”

“I think so, sir. It’s coming from over…”

They stepped forward just as the source of the sound shot through the canopy and hit the ground with a loud thud.”

“…there.” Finished Johnny.

Slowly, they turned around.

It was an elevator.

“What in the-” Said Ghost.

“Blimey, Batman.” Said Toast.

Ghost turned to him. “I bet it’s hotwired.”

The doors opened. They tried to peer inside, but the intense internal lights and smoke obscured their view. The vague, hazy figure of a man stood inside.

“Whatever happens, be ready, Johnny.” Whispered Ghost.

“I got it, sir.”

The man stepped out. Ghost and Toast stared in shock.

It was…

“Papa Acachalla?”

Ghost stopped. “Wait, you’re Doctor Who?”

“Wait!” Said Toast. “It’s raining men!”

“Hallelujah.” Said Ghost.

Acachalla took in what was going on around him for a moment before saying “I knew I shouldn’t have had that burrito for lunch.”

Then he noticed he was being watched.

“Oh. I should’ve known it was you two behind this. I already told you, I’m not paying you guys! I’ve still got those Nintendo Guys and that weird gnome thing in my house and you were supposed to get rid of them!”

“Uh, we don’t know how we got here either.” Toast said quietly.

“Uh-huh. So you just happened to be right here while I was taking a nice innocent elevator ride to the office when all of a sudden everything turns into the titles for “Sliders”?

“What’s Sliders?” Asked Ghost. “And anyway, we just found ourselves falling through the trees.” He pulled up his t-shirt. “Look, I’ve got a bruise the shape of an Englishman’s forehead on my chest!”

“Ugh, put it away sir!”

“Whoa, that’s nasty.”

He quickly tucked his shirt into his jeans.

Acachalla sniffed. “Wait a minute… I can smell root beer.”

“Oh yes, that’s very helpful. We’re stranded, in the jungle, IN THE MIDDLE OF NOWHERE, and you can smell root beer. Good for you!” He turned to Toast. “We are gonna die. We are so gonna die.”

“Calm down, sir, keep it together.”

Acachalla got down on all fours and started sniffing the ground before taking off in the direction of the smell.

“Well he isn’t.”

“BETSY!” Acachalla cried from a distance.

“What?” Said Ghost.

“Come on!” cried Toast.

More running, thought Ghost. I wish I’d put on deodorant this morning…

Chapter 3: Viet Cong Blues[]

“Okay Acachalla, what have you found?” Ghost asked.

They came to a large clearing where the treeline thinned out for about twenty metres, ending in a large hole in the ground.

In the hole, Papa Acachalla was looking very excited about something.

It was an old-style American Military helicopter, circa 1967. It had quite clearly made the clearing as it had come down. The rotors were torn off, quite a lot of the metal was either missing or wrenched into unnatural positions, and all the windows were smashed. The tail was missing, as were the doors. There were several fresh burn marks around the edges.

“Sir, do you think they crashed?”

“What, do ya think!?” Ghost replied sarcastically.

“This was my first Helicopter back in Vietnam! I remember the first day I got ‘er, the guy said, “Treat her like a lady and she’ll always bring you home.”

Ghost looked at the wreckage and said. “I could say something about it's current state, but I’m saving my energy for later.”

“Mister Acachalla, how did it end up like this?”

Acachalla continued. “I think we were on some kinda secret mission for the Government. I can’t remember clearly, there was something about a… a virus? I think. And there was this huge underground city, I remember that. Looked something like Blade Runner.”

Toast turned to Ghost. “Huge underground city, sir?”

“Could have supplies. If it’s underground at least we’ll be able to get out of this heat.” He pinched his arm to prove his point and water squirted out, hitting Toast right in the face.

“Alright, let’s go there then!” Papa Acachalla carried on. Ghost moved to continue but Toast called his attention.

“Sir, the burn marks on the chopper.”

“What about them?”

“Well don’t you see sir? They’re fresh.”

Ghost poked the side of the helicopter and got a sooty finger.

“You’re right Johnny. What does it mean?” he asked as he wiped the soot off of his finger.

“I don’t know, but I have some rather nasty suspicions…”

Chapter 4: The Tipperary Exchange[]

"Great idea" Cody grunted to himself as he hauled himself out of the wreckage of the helicopter, "Great friggin' idea, ask Snake was it a cigarette!" He laughed mirthlessly and pointed at Logan. "NICE WORK, you damnass! Now we're going to have to WALK! And half of the team's wiped out because of you!"

Logan folded his arms and gave a defensive air. "Don't blame me, it was this gowie that started it." He pointed to Acachalla.

"I did not! And mind your language!" Acachalla snapped back.

"Guys, shut the heck up!" A squeaky voice said.

"Cool it, you guys. I hear something." Mr T sniffed the air. "Never liked flying anyway..."

Everyone stooped as Cody listened out through the various jungle noises. Was that a rustling sound he heard in the distance?

* * * * *

Whoever it was that said “War is hell” had undoubtedly been a bachelor, Stacy “Scotty” Acachalla thought wryly to himself as he trudged through the thick grimy dirt and moss that seemed to cover 9/10ths of the surface of the entire country.

The war had gone on for several years now and he was beginning to get tired of the constant fighting and death and poetry.

He wanted to get back to good ol’ red white and blue, to drive his beloved Harley down that long desert trail once again, the wind in his hair, the police on his tail, a gun in his hand and money in his pocket. Maybe go bowling with his buddies sometime, sink a few pints. He hadn’t had a single alcoholic beverage since his “enlistment” in the US Army. No donuts, either.

He missed home. He missed the gang. Maxwell exempting, of course.

He even missed Princeton. Not too much, though.

His train of thought was interrupted by a black and orange flash roaring through the undergrowth and disappearing into the long grass taking Mr T with it with a terrified yelp. Logan raised his rifle and blindly shot into the leaves.

“No you idiot, you’ll hit him!” Cody snapped, and Logan lowered his rifle. The rustling stopped, and the only sound to break the silence was the distant song of exotic birds. Nobody dared breathe. Mr T was gone.

* * * * *

“Alright Toast, what’s going on? Why are there two Papa Acachallas, and why is one of them in the military with fabulous hair?”