G. I. Joe 1. Duty of Honor

**Chapter One**

**Duty of Honor**

As his long red cape flapped in the cool Scottish wind, James McCullen Destro smiled and sipped his tea, enjoying the spring breeze racing down the steep green slopes of the Highlands. It was a day of rare beauty: the sky was blue, and the usual gray clouds were high and thin. From his high perch at the peak of his own personal mountain, standing before his family's mighty stone and granite castle, Lord Destro was warm, and almost regretted wearing his thick dress uniform—almost.

It was his castle and riches that made him part of a family that could trace its heritage back over eight centuries, but it was the uniform he wore, and more importantly, the mask, that made him the man most of the world knew only as Destro.

Made of bullet-proof alloys, the black suit carried an appearance similar to renaissance nobility. Highlighted with gold and silver, it was actually difficult to look at in the sunlight. A red cape attached at his right shoulder.

Wearing a metallic mask had been a family tradition for centuries, since the English Civil War of 1642. Destro's ancestor found it profitable to sell weapons to both the parliamentarians and the cavaliers during the war. One of Oliver Cromwell's men discovered this operation, and as a punishment, Destro's ancestor was forced to wear a painful steel mask; that didn't stop Cromwell from asking for weapons, however, and so the Destro fortune flourished. In honor of their ancestor, the family of Destro has proudly passed the tradition of wearing steel masks for generations, with James McCullen Destro daring to modify the mask with high-tech technologies.

Molded to the shape of his clean-shaven head and constructed with enriched titanium, Destro's mask was more like an indestructible helmet; it was composed of bullet-proof metal, yet surprisingly comfortable. Thinly lined with soft padding and vented, it could control perspiration and serve as a gas mask for short periods of time. A short range communication system and eye-protection devices were installed as well.

Taking a sip from his cup, it chipped as it hit the slit if his metal mask in front of his mouth. Perhaps the mask still had a few imperfections.

"Damn. And this was the good china."

Waving up his butler, Destro handed him the broken cup, then picked up another one from the table resting out on the grassy slope next to him. After pouring himself some more tea—Earl Grey, of course—he looked back out across the Highlands.

Soft, nearly silent footsteps tapped the ground behind the Lord of Destro Castle, and although he did not hear the person approach, he was not startled by the intruder's sudden arrival; it was far from the first time that this person had appeared out of nowhere.

"You have called for me?" asked a shorter man dressed in a white _shinobi shozoku_, a traditional ninja uniform. He carried an ample supply of short swords, a bow, arrows and nunchaku. The red emblem of Cobra stood out brightly upon the left of his chest.

Destro set his tea cup onto its plate. "You are late, Storm Shadow." The words carried a touch of discipline.

"I am here because I choose to be," the man in white turned his head towards the castle's lord, and punched his words through his mask, "Not because I am required to be."

Frowning, the lord picked up his tea and took another sip through his mask. It was exactly the answer he expected from the self-centered ninja. "Perhaps not. But you have sworn allegiance to Cobra Command, and when I have a contract with Cobra, as I do now, I expect you to put a little more effort into your work for me. I may not be Cobra Commander, or for that matter even an official member of the Cobra Terrorist Organization, but I do hold a considerable amount of rank, nonetheless."

Storm Shadow turned to the Highlands and gazed emptily across the Scottish mountain range. His stance was motionless, but the raging energy pouring from his body was undeniably present, and sent shivers down Destro's spine. Turning back around, the white ninja dropped to one knee and looked at the grassy ground. "Very well. I apologize for my poor performance today. How may I serve you, Lord Destro?"

Now smiling, Destro handed his tea cup over to his butler and took a stance in front of the much more controllable ninja. "I am having a package of considerable importance delivered to Edinburgh International Airport. Please be at Gate 12B at 7:00pm this evening to retrieve it for me.

Storm Shadow looked up with an insulted look in his eyes. His facemask covered his complete expression, but Destro had little doubt as to how he felt; the ninja had a lot of pent-up anger in him, Destro was sure of that.

"You have called me four-thousand miles to pick something up for you at the airport? I do not do petty chores!"

Knowing that harsh words could not be used against such a hateful man, Destro played a new game. Crouching down so that the two men could look eye-to-eye, the castle lord spoke softly, yet sternly, "I am not so shallow of a person, my dear Storm Shadow. Do you think me so arrogant as to waste my assets as Cobra Commander would? No, my friend. I ask you to pick this up for me, because you are the only warrior I can trust to complete this task successfully."

Standing up with a cautious look in his eye, the ninja asked, "Am I to know what this special package is?"

To hide his frustration, Destro grinned. "No, I am afraid not. It is part of a project where 'the less who know the better,' if you can appreciate my concern."

Storm Shadow wanted to feel insulted again, and so he almost walked off, but he could never reject such a stupid task. He would simply have to change his emotions into something stronger, something that could drive him on, and give him strength.

Now engulfed with enough curiosity, he simply had to do it, just to settle his mind. Bowing, the white ninja turned and disappeared back to the direction he came, quietly swearing that if this little "delivery service" job turned out to be an attempt on his life, Destro would surely suffer before he died.

1.

After Storm Shadow had left, Destro sat down at the small table. Discussions with assassins, even concerning the simplest of tasks, were always a bit exhausting. It were times like these that he had the most respect for Cobra Commander. That sniveling, abrasive scoundrel had to put up with people like Storm Shadow every second of every day. There was little wonder behind why that hooded fool's mind had snapped, oh, so many years ago. Still, for an idiot, the Commander had achieved what many thought impossible goals, and would forever be remembered as one of the greatest terrorists of all time.

Although often seen simply as Cobra Commander's right-hand man, Destro's legacy wasn't weak by any means. He was a billionaire, manager of Military Armaments Research System (M.A.R.S.), and owned massive manufacturing plants all over the world. He also owned four luxury estates, most importantly his family's castle in Scotland. He even had his own small army, the Iron Grenadiers. They were usually used as back-up to Cobra forces, but occasionally they saw action working for small war-stricken countries in South America and central Africa.

But Destro owed much of his wealth to his family name and inheritance. Cobra Commander started from scratch; he was just a used car salesman, sick of just barely getting by in a capitalist society; now he was leader of the largest terrorist organization in the world. And above all, ruler of an island nation sitting mere miles off the coast of the United States!

Perhaps intelligence will plant the bigger ideas, but ambition will reap the bigger rewards.

So deep in thought, Destro jumped as long, pointed fingers slithered across his shoulders. Soft breaths began puffing against his neck, quickly followed by a rich red tap from her lips. "Tsk, tsk, Destro. Are we a little stressed, hmm?" The deep, Romanian accent erased all confusion from Destro's mind, as it always did.

"Ah, my dear Baroness. When you are with me, stress is a word long forgotten."

As she sat in a chair across the table from Destro, her long black hair flowed in the wind, but her black leather outfit remained bewitchingly tight against her lean, curving body. "James, you know I love you, but how much longer must we stay at this castle? It has been two weeks!"

"Yes, yes I know, my dear. Not much longer, I promise you. I am still awaiting one more delivery that should come tonight. We can move to my plant in Libya by tomorr--."

"Libya!" shrieked the Baroness, nearly throwing her rectangular, black-rimmed eye-glasses down the mountain, "What about South America? I'm not going back to that hell-hole in the desert again! I'm still cleaning the sand out of my suit from the last time!"

Paralleling his hands with the ground, Destro tried to calm her, "Please, my dear, you must understand: it is the only plant I have that is safe from the Joe team at this time. With their increased activity in Central Asia and Central America, the Joes have completely cut me off from my plants in Syria and Columbia. I don't like the idea of returning to the Sahara, either, but it is the only choice that I have."

Baroness slumped back in her chair with her arms crossed, then reached out for her tea cup. Seeing that it was empty, she began pounding the table. "Where is my tea?" The butler scrambled over and began pouring as fast as he could. As the shaking servant walked away, the Cobra Princess stared at him and sipped. "Fine. We'll go to Libya. This plan of yours had better work, Destro."

The castle's lord reached over and fondled her fingers. "It will, my dear, for I do it solely for you, my Amazon queen."

As cheesy as it sounded, it was just what the Baroness loved to hear. She smiled, adjusted her monstrous glasses, then took another sip of tea.

2.

With the sun mere inches above the horizon, business at the Edinburgh International Airport was picking up. Traffic in most lanes was down to a crawl, but through pure determination, a fast-moving taxi cab screeched to a stop in front of the main entrance. Storm Shadow removed a knife from the side of the taxi-driver's neck and cranked the thirty-year-old taxi's door handle down, then shoved it open. The ninja was no longer dressed in his uniform; instead he now suffered blue jeans and a black-and-white checkered short-sleeve shirt. Pulling out his black duffle bag, he tossed the sweating driver a pile of money.

"Forget you ever saw me." Passionately nodding and holding on to the bleeding right side of his neck, the driver pressed the accelerator as hard as he could. Storm Shadow quickly hid the knife in the duffle bag.

The large wad of cash was provided by Destro, so its loss was of no concern to the ninja. Of course, he suddenly realized that he had no money to make a taxi-ride-return to the castle with. Bah. He would just have to convince the next driver to provide him free transit.

Airport security in this day-and-age was nearly impenetrable, even for a ninja, and Storm Shadow had no desire to put too much effort into this stupid chore for Destro. The ninja walked to the far end of the main complex and found a dumpster. After checking for any witnesses, he quickly opened the garbage container and threw in his duffle bag—it was stock full of his weapons, of course—then he silently closed the dumpster. Now his only threat would be if garbage pick-up came on Tuesday nights.

The airport was a simple design: the Ground Floor was a long, narrow flat that bent at an ell, extending for a shorter distance with rooms and doorways that all served the same basic purpose of airline ticket purchase. The First Floor, accessible by a massive escalator, was identical in shape to the Ground Floor and was where all the aircraft waiting areas and aircraft-access bridges were.

Despite being of Japanese origin, it was easy enough for Storm Shadow to blend in; the multi-ethnic swarm of foot traffic kept him pretty inconspicuous. To assist his invisibility, he re-focused his state-of-mind: he was no longer Storm Shadow, Cobra Ninja. Now, he was back to his political identity: Tommy Arashikage, American tourist. He was still proud of his family name, Arashikage, but the name he took while in the United States Army, "Tommy," stung whenever he heard it. It was a reminder of days long ago; days when two eventual sworn enemies would have died for each other…

As Tommy walked through the Ground Floor Terminal, heading for the escalators to the First Floor, the work was beginning to grind his nerves. This was not the work of a ninja, it was the work of a trainee; even a Viper would reject the work of a "gopher-boy."

Once he stepped onto the upper floor, he nervously walked through the metal detectors. Although he was sure that he had discarded all of his weapons, security was so tight in this day and age that any slight mistake could be his undoing.

"Okay, you're clear." said the scanner operator, showing no concern or interest in anything around her at the moment. "Next."

Nodding, Tommy relaxed at bee-lined for the waiting areas. Stepping through the door, he could see the Gate 4 exit. Destro's package was going to be delivered to Gate 12B, the absolute farthest away off to the right.

Walking down the terminal, Tommy reached Gate 5, and spun around in panic. Someone was following him. He was sure of it. The airport wasn't crowded on the First Floor, but every sense that he had said that there was someone keeping an eye on him, and more importantly, they knew how to keep out of sight.

Checking the time, Tommy could see that it was 7:02pm. He needed to get down to 12B soon. There was no time to take care of his stalker. Perhaps once he had Destro's little prize he could take a moment to dispose of his adversary, but not now.

Quickly moving down to the far end of the First Floor, he reached the lounge right in front of 12A and 12B. The time was now 7:05pm, and a 737 passenger jet pulled up outside the windows. Thankfully, it was on time.

There. The chill down his spine said that he was being watched again. It was not acceptable for a ninja to feel panic, but something about this predicament felt—dangerous.

Sounds of talking began echoing down the walkway bridge tunnel connected to the jet as passengers began rumbling through and pouring into the airport, meeting their friends and loved ones, invoking feelings that Tommy had long fought hard to ignore. In the midst of the herd of humans a man in a grey suit approached the ninja, put his arm around his shoulders and walked him over to a lounge chair. Upon the man's chest was a pin shaped in the "Extensive Enterprises" emblem. So, the Crimson Guard was in this, too. Setting a fat briefcase down, the man opened it, pulled out a small, bolted box no larger than a shoebox, and handed it to Tommy. Without even looking at the ninja, he closed his briefcase, locked it, then disappeared into the departing crowd.

The ninja stood in front of Gate 12B, unsure of what to do next. Shaking off his feelings of uneasiness, he tucked the box under his right arm and began walking towards the escalators.

Tommy fought to ignore the feelings of fear that followed him as he raced for the exits of the airport. His chore was nearly completed; all that remained was a taxi-ride to Destro's stupid castle and then he could be free of this cursed land called Scotland. Once he cleared the front entrance, he pushed through a crowd of people and headed for the dumpster.

The waning sunlight was a welcome sight to the fleeing ninja—darkness was a powerful asset. As he briskly charged through the gray light towards his hiding place, he erased the identity of Tommy Arashikage from his mind and once again reabsorbed the power of Storm Shadow.

Rounding the building's edge, he dropped into a crouch and took defensive stance, staring in fear at a blond man and a crimson-haired woman standing next to the dumpster that held his weapons. Covered in long black trench-coats that flapped in the spring breeze, and sporting dark sunglasses, the gothic duo reflected the aura of a melodramatic sci-fi movie. More importantly, their heavy black coats were perfect shrouds to cover any weapons.

"So, Scarlett, it was you who followed me through the airport." growled Storm Shadow. "I salute you in avoiding my detection."

"I was not alone." replied Scarlett, nodding at her silent companion. The blond man stared forward with a stale, emotionless expression. His eyes were unreadable behind his thick glasses. "Hand over the box, Storm Shadow," ordered the woman, "You can't defeat both of us, especially without your weapons."

"A true warrior is the only weapon that he needs."

Leveling up a small crossbow from behind her trench-coat, the woman restated her command: "Storm Shadow, give us the box. Damn it, we don't want to hurt you!"

Briefly eying a pipe on the wall next to him, Storm Shadow wiggled his feet into a jumping position. "I am a ninja, Scarlett. A fool like you could never harm me!" With that, the ninja jumped for the green pipe and grabbed it with his left hand. Swinging himself onto the brick wall, Storm Shadow impressively climbed it single-handedly—he was still carrying the black box. When Scarlett fired her crossbow, he pushed himself from the wall and spun around in air, landing with a deep slam atop the big red dumpster. Anticipating his move, the emotionless blond man grabbed the metal crate's side and flung himself onto the garbage dumpster meeting Storm Shadow face-to-face.

"Brother!" cried the Cobra ninja, "I do not wish to fight you. This is not the time for us to resolve our differences. Let me go, and I promise you a fair fight in the future." Storm Shadow took a step back, but the blond man charged forward and stabbed a fire-fast punch in the ninja's direction. Dropping the black box, Storm Shadow barely dodged it, and then responded with a punch of his own. Crouching down, the blond swung out a leg. Storm Shadow jumped up then kicked his foot out at the man. Grabbing it, the blond swung the ninja into the wall. Storm Shadow dropped to his knee and grabbed the box.

"This is pointless, brother! This is no place for us to fight. My weapons are forfeit this day!" Back-flipping off of the dumpster, Storm Shadow sailed to the ground then sprinted around the building's corner.

Throwing off their trench-coats and sunglasses, the two G.I. Joe warriors revealed their true costumed identities. Scarlett was clothed in a yellow outfit, but her arms and legs wore grey spandex and yellow gloves and boots. Snake Eyes wore solid black, with a grenade belt wrapped over his right shoulder and various gear strapped across his body.

"We have to go after him. He can't get away with that box!" Scarlett walked over to Snake Eyes as he began scratching at his neck. "Here, let me help you." Grabbing the back of the blond man's neck she peeled the rubber facemask off. Once it was removed, the brutally-scarred soldier pulled a black spandex mask from his backpack and pulled it tightly over his head, then attached a metallic visor over his eyes.

"You look good, Snake-Eyes." said Scarlett as she smiled, wishing that she could run her fingers through his hair.

Snake-Eyes raised his hand and gave a thumbs up, wishing he still had the ability to tell her how beautiful she was to him, too.

3.

The drive into downtown Edinburgh was emotionally difficult. Slumped in the cab's rear seat, Storm Shadow fought his feelings of dishonor for abandoning his battle with Snake Eyes. He had never left a battle so ridiculously before, but he also could not accept the ridiculous situation of the battle, either. The true thorn in his side was the sacrifice of his weapons, some of which were beyond irreplaceable. Looking over at the little black box rattling on the cab seat next to him, he clenched his fists and fought the urge to roll down the window, toss it to the sidewalk and feel a little a satisfaction this day.

The streets of Edinburgh were built with ancient brick buildings and littered with modern technology. Between these tributes to the past were long rows of modern transportation, squeezed onto roadways meant for horse-drawn carriages, not big fat automobiles. As the gray sky took on a shade of fiery red, the old Scottish city transformed from a buzzing hive of modern life into a labyrinth of darkness, with the silhouettes of the ancient buildings creating a gothic view.

"Might I be having a word with ya?" asked the cabby.

Turning his focus to the back of the driver's head, Storm Shadow replied, "What do you want?"

"I've noticed a black sedan zippin' up after me car. If they're after you I'm afraid I'm goin' ta have to kick ya out. I don't want to be havin' any trouble."

The ninja flipped around and looked westward down Haymarket Terrace. Sure enough, a black Toyota four-door sedan was swerving through traffic and revving itself closer to the cab. It didn't take long to recognize the passengers as Scarlett and Snake-Eyes. The driver's identity was a mystery, however. Oddly enough he wore a Hawaiian-style shirt.

Turning back around, Storm Shadow dug his fingers into the neck of the cabby. "If you wish to stay alive, drive this car as fast as you can."

Wincing in pain, the driver slowly nodded. "Where…where do you want ta go?"

Pointing to a pair of large hills across the city, Storm Shadow replied, "Arthur's Seat." The cab turned on to Prince's Street, which would take it by Edinburgh Castle, a massive complex of buildings that sat far from the road across Prince's St. Gardens. The enormous and widely-spread stone castle was built high upon a rocky mount, lifting the buildings that stood upon its top ever higher into the air.

As the cab headed down Prince's Street, the Joe's Toyota made a punch for it. Snake Eyes quickly climbed out of the shotgun-side window and crawled across the hood. Showing his amazing aptitude for balance, the Joe commando crouched down and drew his sword. With Edinburgh Castle and a ruby red sky as a backdrop, Snake Eyes leapt through the air from the Toyota's front end and came slamming down upon the cab's rear, stabbing his sword into the yellow car's trunk. After standing himself upright by pulling on his sword's imbedded handle, the black commando unsheathed the blade from the cab, swung it back behind him, and slashed it forward, shattering the rear windshield.

In quick response, Storm Shadow swung himself horizontally out of the cab's rear right window and kicked Snake Eyes' in the side. To keep from sliding off of the cab, the commando was forced to collapse onto his stomach and grab for the edge of the broken window; the shattered glass cut his hand, but more importantly, it forced him to drop his sword.

As the taxi cab drove past the majestic St. Giles Cathedral, the wind blew Storm Shadow's loose common-man clothing and ruffled his long black hair as he stood next to Snake Eye's fallen body…and raised his brother's sword. "So this is how it ends, my brother: you will die in an almost comical fashion. This is not right. This is why I left you at the airport: so we could fight with honor; this is not how a ninja must die." Storm Shadow looked up at the sky. "But unfortunately, it is how it must be." The white ninja began to swing the stolen blade…and was pierced in the left side by an arrow.

Whipping a hard glare back at the Toyota, Storm Shadow saw Scarlett leaning out of the car's window and reloading her crossbow. Knowing of no other option, the ninja crouched down next to Snake Eyes. "You are saved, my brother. I do not regret this failure!" Using his foot, Storm Shadow shoved the Joe off of the back of the cab, sending him into a brutal tumble across the pavement. The Toyota screeched to a halt and Scarlett jumped out.

Storm Shadow crawled back into the cab, now holding a sword against the neck of the cabby. "Hurry up, driver. I have no more patience!"

4.

At the edge of Holyrood Park, the black Toyota screeched to another hard stop. Slowly standing back up, the cabby coughed and began brushing the dust off of himself. The rear door popped open and Scarlett stepped out. "Are you all right?"

Giving a sarcastic look, the cabby looked back down and worked his joints. "You guys have been smashin' up me car, and then some looney goes and steals it for a drive to Arthur's Seat. No, lass. No, I'm not all--." Before he could finish, the door slammed shut and the black four-door sedan raced across the bumpy fields of Holyrood Park towards a large pointed rock standing in the middle of the park.

Thankfully for the Joes, it was getting dark. As such, there were a couple of yellow lights shining at the base of Arthur's Seat.

Nearly shaken to pieces by the rocky ride, the Toyota pulled up next to the abandoned cab, which looked like it was in even worse shape than the sedan was.

"Fill us in, Chuckles," asked Scarlett, "How long does it take to get up there?"

The only G.I. Joe soldier allowed to wear a loud Hawaiian shirt and green slacks looked up the hill and replied, "On this side, some people can do it in half-an-hour, but the average is about forty-five."

Swooping out of the car, Scarlett warned her friend, "He'll be up there in fifteen, Snake, and he's got a five-minute head-start on us. Let's go. Chuckles, stay here in case he comes back down."

"Um…okay."

Before the dark Joe commando left, he reached to the back seat and pulled out a sword. Noticing that it wasn't Snake Eyes' usual sword, Chuckles thought to himself, _Why didn't he take his Uzi?_

5.

The one advantage that Storm Shadow had over the G.I. Joes chasing him was that he had reached the top of Arthur's Seat first—and could catch his breath. There was no way that he would let his enemies have that luxury when they rounded the top of the hill.

The top of Arthur's Seat was a small plateau with a large pyramid-like rock at one end. It gave a fantastic view of the city of Edinburgh, especially during the fiery sunset blanketing the city on this night.

Although he stood with his back to the rock and looked upon the city, its beauty was not Storm Shadow's concern tonight.

The sounds of crumbling rock behind him were.

Snake Eyes came over the tall rock behind him, leaping across the white ninja and landing in a roll. After rolling a few feet, he stopped, spun around and took a defensive crouching position.

"So, brother," said Storm Shadow, with a hint of shame, "You have surprised me. Again you have shown your worthiness to call yourself Arashikage." Raising his sword, he stared deeply at Snake Eyes. "But you are a fool to call yourself G.I. Joe. You have skill, but no intelligence." He raised Snake Eyes' sword and slid his fingers along the edge. "I am forced to destroy you with your own blade. Perhaps then you will realize that your choice was a fool's--."

As Storm Shadow rattled on, Snake Eyes exposed the handle of the sword he carried, which silenced the white ninja, then turned his face red. "You…you carry my katana!" His eyes grew even sharper. "Very well, we will fight with each others' blade, the blade of our own brothers!"

Clangs of metal fiercely rang from the top of the hill. As Scarlett finally rounded the crest, what little breath she had left was swept from her lungs. Against a bursting red sunset, Storm Shadow and Snake Eyes engaged in a passionate duel of sword and body. Mercy was not a factor in their battle; every blow did equal harm to both men, every slash cut just an inch too deep. The two men had finally found the perfect place to finish their empty war.

6.

Skidding across the ground as he landed from a kick, Storm Shadow scrambled around with his sword raised and came back chopping repeatedly. Snake Eyes blocked every slash, then responded with a hard left kick into the white ninja's side. Refusing to move from the blow, Storm Shadow elbowed the black commando in the face, then slashed him across the right side. After moving away to regain his wits, Snake Eyes turned back around—and couldn't see his brother. Quickly looking up, he saw Storm Shadow stabbing down from a short dive. Unable to block, the black commando rolled with it, dropped onto his back, re-directed the sword with his own and used his foot to fling the white ninja's body six feet behind him. Landing disgracefully on his back, Storm Shadow flipped over and quickly stood back up.

"I…I will not stop until your heart hangs from my blade!" panted the enraged warrior. As he took a step forward, he was sent jumping back by a sudden burst of machine gun fire.

The whipping sounds were indistinguishable. The men knew what was approaching, but Storm Shadow was by far the most affected. "No! Not now! Not while I am so close!"

A Cobra F.A.N.G. helicopter closed in on Arthur's Seat, or more accurately, Storm Shadow. Speaking through a bullhorn, the pilot called down to the distinctly-out-of-uniform white ninja. "Come on, Storm Shadow! Get the box and get onto the F.A.N.G.!"

With his head hung in silence, and his body engulfed in swirling dust, the white ninja stood in anger. He wished to continue his duel, but he had a mission to complete for Destro, and honor bound him to his chore. Snake Eyes passionately wanted to approach, but was in the direct line-of-fire of the F.A.N.G.'s front machine-gun. Scarlett, still thirty feet away, knew that her crossbow was useless amidst so much wind.

"C'mon, Storm Shadow! Destro is waiting for us!"

Painfully, the ninja walked to the edge of the hill where he had hidden the box, picked it up and headed over to the helicopter. As he stepped onto the rails, he looked over to Snake Eyes. His brother raised his sword, and threw it at the F.A.N.G. It stuck into the side of the helicopter inches from the white ninja's head. Storm Shadow held out the black commando's sword as the F.A.N.G. lifted upward, but instead of throwing it to Snake Eyes, he shook his head, and sheathed it.

Scarlett walked over to Snake Eyes as the F.A.N.G. took a low flight plan across Holyrood Park. "I'm sorry, Snake. Things will work out some day, I know it."

The black commando stepped over to the edge of Arthur's Seat. Scarlett could feel the silent scream roaring from his lungs. After looking across the twinkling lights of Edinburgh for a few minutes, he began a slow descent down the hill.

6.

Chuckles sat in the Toyota twiddling his thumbs. It had been pretty quiet and lonely for over half-an-hour. Just a couple minutes ago a F.A.N.G. flew to the top of the hill, but there was no way to warn the other Joes. He wanted to help, but what could he do? All he had was a pistol. He was no match for a ninja, especially Storm Shadow.

_What was that?_ It was the sound of a small helicopter approaching the car. As the thundering sound got louder, it was soon drowned out by the crunching crash of Storm Shadow's feet landing on the hood of the Toyota. Chuckles looked down to draw his gun, but when he looked up, the feet were gone. Frantically looking around, Chuckles jumped when the back door was yanked open and Storm Shadow's bag slid out. Turning around as fast as he could, Chuckles only managed to pop off a couple of shots into the back seat.

As the G.I. Joe undercover agent stepped out of his car, he watched as the F.A.N.G. flew away into the fading sunset.

7.

The black box crashed onto the desk next to Destro's computer monitor. Destro stopped his typing and picked up his spilt office supplies. Still sitting in his luxurious chair, he pushed himself away from his desk and turned himself around. Baroness stood leaning against his desk, sipping a glass of wine.

"Ah, Storm Shadow. I expected to see you sooner." said the weapons manufacturer.

The white ninja stood inside the doorway with the hall's bright light behind him, transforming him into a dark silhouette. "You have your damn box, Destro. My duty to you is complete."

"Excellent work, as always. I know that fighting Snake Eyes is never a simple task."

"You mock me?" growled the white ninja.

"Please, Storm Shadow. I have more respect for my warriors than that fool Cobra Commander."

"Then why did your soldier not let me finish my fight?"

"Because you had a mission to complete; one of such importance that your personal matters were to be set aside until it was finished." Destro poured himself some more tea.

"Tell me, Storm Shadow," asked the Baroness, "Do you want to fight your 'brother' again?"

Whipping her a hard glare, the ninja replied, "Of course I do. I prepare for it every day."

First taking a sip of her wine, the Baroness continued, "Then keep working for us, and we promise you, you will see your 'brother' in the near future."

After a moment of silence, Storm Shadow spoke, with just a bit less intensity, "How can you promise this?"

Destro picked up the black box. "Because you completed your important chore for me, dear Storm Shadow. This device will guarantee the appearance of G.I. Joe wherever we go, I promise you that."

Once again, curiosity insured the white ninja's obedience…for the time being.

8.

Scarlett pressed the "Enter" button on her laptop. The video communication screen activated and Brigadier General Clayton Abernathy, a.k.a. "Hawk" popped up onto the LCD. He was wearing his black one-star general's uniform and sitting in his lightly decorated office in G.I. Joe headquarters, nicknamed the "Pit."

"Scarlett, it's good to see you. Is everyone all right?" asked the General.

Nodding Scarlett turned to her right to show Snake Eyes and Chuckles. "We're okay, Hawk. Snake Eyes took a few scrapes, but they won't kill him."

Hawk smiled. "I'm beginning to doubt if anything really can." Leaning back in his chair, the General's expression tightened up. "So, how did the mission go?"

Looking down with a touch of shame, the red-haired Joe reported, "We lost, Hawk. Storm Shadow got away and took the box with him. We…we have no idea where he was headed."

Hawk intertwined his fingers and paused to think for a moment. "You are two of my very best troops. I sent you on this mission because I needed my questions answered, period."

"Y-yes, Hawk, we know."

"This was the best lead we had on this hidden shipping network Cobra has started up. Cobra is up to something big. You all know that. We can't afford to mess this up." Scarlett looked down as the General looked at a statue on his desk. "It looks like we'll have to go to plan-B." Hawk dug out some papers from beneath a pile on his desk and studied them. "I'm sending you three to the Phillipines. The government there has been keeping an eye on a Caucasian man that has basically moved in to a beach resort outside of Davao City. He appears to make weekly deliveries to 'friends' that show up at the resort. It's not a confirmed delivery like Edinburgh was, but it might lead to something."

"Any other information on him, Hawk?" asked Chuckles.

The General shook his head. "That's about all we have. I'm sending you your orders to your computer now."

Scarlett checked here e-mail, then nodded. "Got 'em, sir."

"Good. Look, I know that no one is perfect, but I expect more from you guys. You can't fail this one again."

The red-haired Joe stood up boldly and saluted, "We won't General Hawk."

"I know you won't. Good luck." With that, the General's image popped off the screen.

Scarlett looked back at her teammates with the expression of a leader. "All right, guys, we're going back to the airport. We've got a long way to go."

Chuckles groaned. "We've only been in Edinburgh for twelve hours, now we have to fly clear to the Phillipines in the same day?"

Snake Eyes patted him on the shoulder. Scarlett folded up her laptop and spoke, "You can catch plenty of Z's on the plane, Chuckles. We're going and we're going now."


	2. Wild Resorts

**Chapter Two**

**Wild Resorts**

Scarlett and Snake Eyes stepped onto the sidewalk outside of Davao International Airport. It was the most technologically advanced airport in the Philippines, and much more luxurious than the Edinburgh International airport. Over two million people a year poured through its gates; Davao City was a popular tourist trap, and the country's government was making sure that the city resting on the shoreline of Davao Gulf stayed up-to-date.

Although Scarlett slid on a set of sunglasses, she no longer wore her gothic long-black disguise any longer. Wearing the cliché appearance of American tourists, she and Snake Eyes wore light, bright clothes and shorts—just the sort of look her lover despised.

Still, he was impressed with the newest rubber mask disguise that Lady Jaye had made up for him. Although it won no awards for comfort, it looked amazingly realistic, even when he was just wearing a t-shirt. After the long 747-flight from Honolulu though, the Joe commando needed to get it off—it was getting pretty itchy.

Chuckles walked up behind his fellow Joes while stuffing a passport into his pocket and pushing on a pair of thousand-dollar sunglasses. "Gorgeous day, eh, guys?"

Scarlett looked at Snake Eyes. The lack of perspiration on his face made her wince with uneasiness. "I'll start enjoying it once we get Snake Eyes somewhere where he can take his mask off."

Nodding his agreement, Chuckles pointed to a long black car parked down the street. "That's our ride. We can be at the resort in fifteen minutes."

When the trio of Joes reached the Cadillac, the Philippine Army private standing guard next to it saluted them. The Joes returned the salute, and Chuckles reached his hand out for a handshake. "Nice to meet you, private. We're members of the G.I. Joe team. My name is Chuckles. This here is Scarlett and Snake Eyes."

Nervously shaking the perky Joe's hand, the private refused to smile. "Yes, sir. I am here to take you to Waterfront Insular Hotel." Pulling his hand back, he opened the Caddy's door and pointed in. "If you would like to get in, please."

Chuckles winked. "That would be just great."

Minutes later, the three Joes were riding south towards downtown Davao, heading for the four-star resort on the northeastern shore.

"You've gone a bit overboard on this mission, Chuckles." Commented Scarlett.

"Hey, it wasn't just me. The Philippine government was excited to work with us, so they threw a few bucks into the deal."

"Which you used to 'upgrade' our accommodations?"

Smiling, Chuckles took a sip from a small bottle of wine provided in the Cadillac. "What can I say? I'm just used to beauty."

Scarlett noticed Snake Eyes intently watching the bicycle carts wobbling along the streets, toting their big blue umbrellas while their drivers peddled like crazy. Another fascination was how brightly painted and colorful the city's busses were. They were older vehicles, but more elaborately decorated than anything in New York. The streets were a tight fit, filled to the brim with people, markets, bicycle carts and slow moving traffic, but they had their own flow to them, their own beauty. It was a look so unlike Edinburgh; a beauty of a different kind.

After all the recent jet flights from Europe, the appearance of the luxurious Waterfront Insular Hotel was a welcome one. Chuckles thanked the Philippine private and the team grabbed their luggage. The Cadillac drove off and the three Joes stood in front of the entrance, somewhat confused about their next step of action.

"I thought we were supposed to meet a fellow Joe here, Chuckles." inquired Scarlett.

"Uh…yeah, me too. Maybe they're waiting for us inside?" Chuckles could only shrug his shoulders, pick up his bag and lead the way into the hotel.

After checking in, the group walked to the elevators. "Okay, everybody," said Scarlett, "According to the front desk, our teammate is in room 223."

"Right." said Chuckles. "I hope he's okay. It's not like a Joe to miss an appointment." The group began to get nervous as the elevator door opened and they stepped in.

Once they reached the second floor, Snake Eyes took point as the trio walked down to door 223. Chuckles gave a brisk knock, hoping to see the entrance swing open and a smiling face to greet them. Instead, he heard a response of "Wow! You're early. Come on in." reverberate through the door. Slowly opening it, the team saw a lavish hotel room, with large white furniture and an enormous window with its blinds shut. Off to the right side of the room, the Joes saw Mainframe sitting at a small desk, passionately typing on his massive laptop computer.

"Hey guys! Come on in!" As his fellow Joes walked in, he finally stopped and stood up. "Sorry I didn't meet you outside. I thought you were coming this afternoon. Good to see some familiar faces. I've working here in the Philippines for almost nine days, and I've almost been eaten alive by loneliness."

"Nice view." said Chuckles as he looked at the closed window blinds.

"Yeah, well…"

"Looks like you've been busy." commented Scarlett, referring to the piles of disks and papers spread across the floor.

"This chair has been glued to my butt ever since I got here." Stretching his back and yawning, Mainframe put his hand on his stomach. "I've got some brunch on the way up. Sorry it's so late. I kind of lost track of time."

"All that time in front of a clock and he can't tell what time it is." joked Chuckles.

"Zip it, Chuckles." snapped Scarlett. Snake Eyes walked over to the blinds and opened them. The sunlight seemed like a lost friend to this artificially-lit little room.

Scarlett pulled a file out from the bag she brought with her and handed it over to Mainframe. "I'm going to be brief. These are General Hawk's orders: we're to keep tight watch on a man staying at the Pearl Farm Beach Resort. If he makes a delivery, we're to intercept it and see what it is. If he turns out to be a Cobra Agent of any kind, naturally we apprehend him.

Mainframe nodded at his fatigued teammate and turned back to his laptop. A couple police photographs appeared on the screen. "Actually, I've already done a little research on this guy. I can't tell you his name, but I can tell you who delivered a package to him recently." Pointing to the Hispanic man on the left, Mainframe said, "This is Julio Reyes. He's a small-time crook from New Mexico that is wanted in Texas for smuggling goods from the U.S. into Mexico."

"He'd be an ideal person for Cobra to use in its underground shipping network." commented Chuckles.

"Yup. Now the Philippine government has spotted him around Davao City and are searching for him. I can't be certain that this is the guy who is working with the creep at the Pearl Resort, but I'd be willing to bet money on it."

"No bet." said Scarlett. "Great work, Mainframe.

At that moment, a knock made everyone jump. "Oh man, that must be my food." apologized Mainfraime as he stood up and walked to the door.

After the cart was wheeled in, the delivery boy was handed a tip and Mainframe started shoveling in his ham and cheese omelet. Scarlett started typing on the computer expert's massive 36-inch wide laptop computer.

"Check this out, guys." ushered the lady Joe. "Reyes was last arrested in Peru for drunk-driving."

"So why would that interest us?" asked Chuckles.

"The only personal belonging he registered at the police station was a thirty-eight centimeter long black box."

Mainframe started to choke on his omelet and took a swig of orange juice—fresh squeezed, of course—and looked closer to the screen. The other Joes joined him. "How did I miss that?"

"So how did he get out of jail?" asked Chuckles.

Pointing to a line of information, Scarlett replied, "He was bailed out by a businessman working for the Banco d'Amaru."

Chuckles stood up. "Banco d'Amaru? I've never heard of that. That last word isn't even Spanish. What the heck is an amaru?

With his mouth full of half-chewed egg, Mainframe budged his way up to the computer screen. "Let me see that." After a few moments of typing, a translating program popped up onto the screen. The Joe computer expert entered the word "amaru." In less than a second, its definition dropped the jaws of almost every Joe present.

"Wow." said Chuckles. "Amaru is the Incan word for snake."

"And to top it all off, the Banco d'Amaru is owned by Extensive Enterprises." pointed out Mainframe.

"I guess that proves it, guys." said Scarlett. "It's great that we've found another shipping point for Cobra's network, but before we head to Peru, there's still the task of finding the scum-ball that's shipping off goodies to Cobra from this city right here."

"Well, while our computer expert here finishes his first meal-of-the-day, I'll head down to the docks and see if I can find us a boat to ride to the resort." said Chuckles.

Mainframe gulped down the last of his orange juice and stood up. "I'm done, I'm done. Let's go!"

"Wait-a-minute, everyone." ordered Scarlett. "We're forgetting something: I'm exhausted, we're all exhausted. Mainframe, you work on getting everything together for us. As for the three of us, we need to go to our rooms and take some long power naps, have some good meals and get our strength back. Got it?" The other Joes reluctantly nodded.

As much as they wanted to get to work, even Snake Eyes couldn't deny the aching fatigue that gnawed at his body…and spirit.

1.

Three hours later, Scarlett knocked on the door to Snake Eyes' room. There was no answer. It made no sense. He would never miss the sound of a door knock, not even if he was asleep.

Sliding out a hair pin, she quickly picked the lock and entered the dark room. Everything seemed in order. The sheets were moderately shuffled, and all of Snake Eyes' gear was on the floor, so there couldn't have been a fight.

But the rear window's curtain was ruffled.

With urgent concern, Scarlett walked to the back of the room and parted the long silk cloths. They revealed a beautiful view of the beach. It was a bright, sunny day, but the sandy coast looked nearly empty. Some people were walking to the far right, and a man was playing with his dog a ways down to the left, but that wasn't of interest.

One lone man stood against the edge of the waves, looking out across the Davao Gulf, watching the cargo ships and barges floating in and out of the ports along the coastline. Sighing in relief, Scarlett closed the curtains, left Snake Eyes' room and took the elevator down to the ground floor.

Once outside, she walked past the beach-chairs out onto the sand and quickly found the lone man standing next to the waves.

"You had me worried there, Snake Eyes. I thought, maybe, you know, that he had found you."

Snake Eyes looked down and put his hands in his pockets.

"Look, I know how much it hurts." Scarlett paused. "Who am I kidding? Of course I don't know how much it hurts. All I can do is tell you that no matter how you feel, no matter what happens, I'll always be with you." She gently grabbed his chin and turned his face toward her. The rubber mask slid an inch to the left. She couldn't help but flinch; it was a disturbing effect to feel.

"Don't abandon me, Snake Eyes, because I swear, I will never abandon you." With that, the pair of Joes embraced in a long kiss that broke every emotional restraint the Joe commando had.

2.

After paying a surprisingly small amount of money to a fisherman to get a ride on his fishing boat, the group of Joes headed over to Samal Island. It was a forty-five minute trek across Davao Gulf to reach the Pearl Farm Beach Resort—a beautiful area that was once used to grow oysters off the coast of Samal. Now it was arguably the finest resort in the Davao City region. Tourists were spread across the waters in front of the small triangular buildings, racing around on their jet-skis or soaking up the sunlight on the white beaches. The Cobra agent working from this resort sure liked living large.

After giving the fisherman an extra few bucks and a thank you, the Joes walked down the dock and made for the resort's main office. Luckily, there were not an exuberant amount of buildings to search. Foreigners were few-and-far-between at the resort; finding a Caucasian smuggler shouldn't take much time.

"Well, this place sure doesn't look like a place that illegal shipping would be operating from." said Mainframe.

"That's what makes it perfect." stated Chuckles. "No one would look for crime around a place like this. The problem is, if someone does see it, it really stands out."

"There's the main building." pointed out Scarlett.

Chuckles sped up to the front of the group. "I'll see if I can get this guy's info from the front desk."

After a couple of minutes, Chuckles walked out of the main buildings scratching his head and drinking a Coca-Cola. "Guess what, guys? A Mr. David Carbo has been staying in room 4B for almost 12 days."

"David Carbo, Eh?" asked Scarlett. "That name is just drenched with the words "Crimson Guard."

"No doubt."

"Any description of the guy?" inquired Mainframe.

"Didn't ask." Chuckles took a swig of his Coke.

"Great. So we have no idea what David Carbo looks like, then?" griped Mainframe."

"Nope." replied Chuckles, "That makes this job twice as interesting, don't ya think? But c'mon, we know he's a white guy. I figured that's all we need."

Lifting up their luggage bags over their shoulders, the team cautiously moved on towards building Four.

3.

At the entrance to room 4B, Scarlett and Snake Eyes stood at each side of the door and whispered.

"You want this one, Snake?" asked the red-head. The Joe commando nodded.

Stepping back, Snake Eyes delivered a lightning quick kick through the door, slamming it inside the room and breaking an end-table.

"Damn. He's not here." growled Scarlett.

"Is there a computer in here?" asked Mainframe.

"Yes."

"Excellent." After sitting in front of it, Mainframe powered up his laptop and hooked his computer up to David Carbo's. "I should have his entire hard drive copied in a few minutes, then we can start analyzing it."

Scarlett looked at Snake Eyes, who was once again looking out the windows of a hotel room. However, the entire back wall of room 4B was a window, with a sliding glass door. "Okay. Chuckles, stay here and give Mainframe some back-up. Snake and I are going to the beach."

"You two be good this time." joked the undercover agent.

Scarlett smacked him on the back of the head as she walked out.

4.

On the beach, Scarlett squinted hard as she examined every person in site. Two unidentifiable people were on Wave-Runners about eighty-yards away. A few people were swimming, but they all looked Asian. There were more people about fifty yards down the beach. Scarlett began to run towards them when she was cut off by an old Filipino lady.

"You like your stay at Pearl Farm?"

"Yes, mam. It's very nice. Now, if you'll excuse me."

"I come here every year. See many Americans. Like you."

Scarlett could see that there was little hope of getting by the lady. Hopefully Snake Eyes was making progress. "That's very fascinating, but I really need to--."

"Are you looking for friend?" The lady grabbed Scarlett's right shoulder, turned her towards the ocean and pointed to one of the Wave-Runners. "That him out there? He been out for almost an hour. Hog jet-ski every day."

Scarlett's eyes were no longer squinting—they were bugging out. Grabbing her communicator, she screamed into it, "Snake Eyes! I've found him!" Totally ignoring the grinning old lady, Scarlett sprinted for the jet-ski docks.

As her boots clomped down the thick wooden dock, she focused in on the jet-ski at the front of the pack. The man in charge of rentals stepped in front of her, yelling out warnings in Filipino and waving his hands; she shoved him off the dock and splashing backwards into the water. Leaping through the air, she landed perfectly on a jet-ski, turned the engine on and buzzed away from the dock, snapping the rope that had moored the watercraft to the dock.

Keeping her eyes focused on David Carbo, she bounced across the waves, smacking across them vigorously, but totally ignoring the potential risk to herself and the jet-ski. As she approached fifty yards distance from the Crimson Guardsman, he took notice and gave her a hard look. Quickly recognizing the G.I. Joe, even out of uniform, he boosted his Wave-Runner to full speed, performing a hard left turn and attempted to race away. Unfortunately, she was a lighter load for her jet-ski, and she managed to catch up to him despite his lead.

After a few seconds of twists and turns, Scarlett raced up alongside David, and attempted to sideswipe his Wave-Runner. The two watercraft hit each other and spew water at their fast-moving pilots. After a couple of hits, David kicked out at Scarlett, lightly smacking her right thigh. Scarlett swooped in for another sideswipe, but the Crimson Guardsman responded by reducing speed and swerving to his right. Scarlett shot past him, and pulled a hard right turn. David turned back left and accelerated, smashing into the side of Scarlett's jet-ski, which flipped it over, dunked her underwater and launched David's Wave-Runner into the air…

5.

As the Crimson Guardsman's wave-runner splashed down into the water, he spun it around just in time to see Scarlett pop up from beneath the water's surface, coughing and struggling to keep afloat. Revving his engine to full speed, David grinned, then bee-lined straight for the Joe's wet head, bobbing in the water straight ahead of him.

With less than five yards to go, the buzz of another Wave-Runner drowned out all other sound pouring into David's left ear. Looking over, he saw another jet-ski come crashing into his, sending both men and watercraft tumbling across the waves.

As David's own head resurfaced, he could see a blond man pushing Scarlett back onto her jet-ski. Looking to his right, he could see his Wave-Runner bouncing on the waves. It was damaged, but probably still worked. Swimming over to it, he slowly, painfully pulled himself back aboard. After coughing up some more water, he attempted to sit up; but suddenly, painfully, something clamped onto his ankle. Looking behind him, he could see the blond man behind him, but…his face was…crooked? Crying out in terror, David desperately tried to keep himself atop his watercraft as the man with the mangled face dragged him beneath the waves…

6.

Blinking his eyes open, David Carbo squeaked in panic at the sight of Snake Eyes' black visor staring straight at him less than three feet away. Attempting to jump back, the Crimson Guardsman yelped in pain as he felt the handcuffs that bound him to a chair dig into his wrists. Despite this humiliating situation, there was really only one question on David's mind: shouldn't he be dead? Some mutated Joe had dragged him to his death, hadn't he? Looking around, he recognized that he was back in his hotel room at the Pearl Farm Beach Resort, but there were four Joes in there with him. He needed answers.

"Why didn't you kill me?" he asked with a groggy voice.

Scarlett, standing next to the Cobra agent, handed him a cup of coffee. "Nice to see you, too, Mr. Carbo. Enjoy your two-hour nap?"

"Two…two hours?" gasped Carbo after gulping down the caffeine.

"Yup." Said Chuckles, sitting in a reversed chair next to the desk across from the bed. "I've been tempted to wake you up all day, but for some reason Snake Eyes insisted on showing you a bit o' mercy."

Looking around, David asked, "Where's the blond guy that pulled me underwater?"

Scarlett nodded towards the Joe commando. "That was Snake Eyes."

Confused, David leaned back, "He looks that weird under his mask?"

Bending forward, Scarlett grabbed the empty cup of coffee. "No. Weirder. Now, it's our turn to ask you some questions. First, what is your full name?"

Smiling, the Cobra agent bellowed with the pride that had been pounded into him through years of brain-washing. "I am David Carbo IX, Crimson Guardsman of the Cobra Empire."

"Lucky number nine, eh?" asked Mainframe.

Chuckles contemplated, "That means there's at least eight other guys in the world that look just like you? I mean, I know that for every name series in the Crimson Guard, a bunch of guys get themselves a ton of plastic surgery so that they're all identical. That way, you can replace each other on long term missions if something happens."

"Don't worry, there aren't more than a couple dozen David Carbo's in this world, and once I'm gone, my replacement will soon arrive. You've accomplished nothing." David grinned.

"Zip it, Carbo." snarled Scarlett. "We know that you've been sending equipment to Edinburgh from here. What kind of equipment are you shipping and where are you storing it at?"

David laughed. "You can't honestly think that I'm going to answer that."

Snake Eyes pulled his gloves tightly over his hands. Scarlett smiled. "Yes, I do."

7.

Half-an-hour later, David Carbo was once again asleep on his chair and Mainframe was typing on his computer. The other Joes were herded around the desk, keeping a close eye on what the Joe computer expert was doing.

"It was nice of Davy-Boy to tell Snake Eyes he kept these parts in the boathouse." joked Chuckles as he looked at the black box now sitting on the bed.

"Too bad he doesn't know where it goes." sighed Scarlett. David had explained that he only handed the equipment off in a secured box to another Crimson Guardsman at the Pearl Farm Resort's dock, who took it to its final destination. "So what do these things do?" asked Scarlett, referring to the two parts found in the black box.

"I've studied enough electronics to have a pretty good idea about what this stuff David is sending to Destro does." Mainframe picked up a rectangular metallic device out of the box and began examining its inner parts. "This piece has parts found in energy conductors. It's obviously meant to channel and possibly amplify some sort of power source. It's amazingly small for what it potentially does, but I don't know what the whole puzzle looks like, so I can't really make any valid judgments."

Chuckles handed the computer genius the second part, slightly conical and a bit longer than the first, spouting three thin, sharp, hollow tubes. "What about this one?"

Mainframe shrugged. "A laser gun barrel? I mean, it looks like something you'd attach to the end of a 'Star Wars' blaster. I really don't have any other ideas. It's certainly not made for bullets."

The G.I. Joe undercover agent reached out for it and looked at it. "Cool. Can I keep this one?"

Scarlett crossed her arms and walked towards the window overlooking the beach. "So, Cobra is relaying power conductors and laser guns through David IX's little outpost here. That doesn't sound too world-threatening. This is just a little Cobra-style UPS station."

Chuckles scratched his chin. "If it's so unimportant, then why is Destro sending Storm Shadow to pick up the shipments?"

"Or more importantly," pondered Scarlett, "Why isn't Destro's company, M.A.R.S., just building all of the equipment and shipping it to Cobra themselves?"

Chuckles shook his head. "I don't think that matters right now. What we need to focus on is where this stuff is going."

"Well, we know that it's destined to be picked up from here." said Mainframe.

Putting the devices back into their black shipping box sitting on the bed, Scarlett ordered, "Then we better get ready for the big pick-up."

Snake Eyes walked up to Chuckles holding a gray business suit. Sighing, the undercover agent replied, "I guess I'm the one delivering the box."

"Was there any doubt?" Scarlett smiled.

8.

Resting high upon the southern slope of an active volcano, the massive stronghold known as Cobra Temple defied the forces of nature simply by its existence. Protected by ten-foot thick concrete walls sporting titanium shells, it had repeatedly deflected the molten sludge-balls spurting from the mouth of the volcano. Glowing with the arrogant defiance of the man who designed the temple and now called it home, it dared the powers of the world to destroy it, forever believing in its own invincibility.

Shaped like a modern castle, it was built with one-hundred-foot high, smooth, sloping walls surrounding a massive one-hundred-eighty-foot inner tower of similar design, sporting the massive head of a cobra that protruded another thirty feet from the top. Over a hundred hidden gun ports and thirty launch bays littered the walls of the structure. Expanding from the sides were still more sloping walls topped with smaller, yet just as frightening cobra heads. Hidden gun ports and launch bays were spread across the wings of the temple as well. The thirty-foot tall, Cobra emblem-shaped main entrance spurted ten feet out from the center of the temple, providing a menacing doorway into the darkness within.

Atop his throne inside the mouth of a giant metallic cobra, Cobra Commander sat hunched over with his elbow on his knee and knuckles on his chin beneath his blue hood. The room was dim, with only a handful of candles left lit; but it was the way he liked it when he needed to think. Things were not going well for the Cobra Terrorist Organization lately, and a new plan was needed. For some reason all of his top advisors were off on their own little missions, and he was left on Cobra Island all alone. Didn't they understand what loyalty meant?

Looking down from his high mount, the head snake could see two of his elite Crimson Guardsmen standing at either side of the massive chamber doors. Chosen from the cream of the crop, his guards were sworn to be the best—but they were really morons. No man with any sort of intelligence would stand by a doorway all day long; especially in a place as dull as the Cobra Temple Throne Room. Most guards applied for work down at the Terror Drome. Apparently work down there was more interesting. Bah. Perhaps it was a good time to test just how loyal his guards really were.

Cobra Commander sat up and pointed to the guard on his left. "You! Come to me!"

Slapped out of his empty trance, the guard stood at attention then pointed to himself. "M-me, Cobra Commander, sir?"

"I'm looking at you, aren't I? Come over here!"

The Crimson Guardsman drew upon his inner courage and walked across the throne room to the base of the twenty-foot-high throne's stairway. The Commander stood up, un-holstered a .45 cal pistol and aimed it at directly at the red-uniformed guard.

"You have two ways of saving your life, Crimson Guardsman: one is to dodge a volley of bullets fired from my gun."

Gulping, the guard asked, "And the other?"

Smiling, Cobra Commander spread his arms in a joyous pose, "Ah, your other choice is much simpler! All you have to do is kill that other guard!"

Shocked into deeper attention, the guard from the right side of the door stepped back and took a more defensive pose. The challenged guard turned to look at him, feeling deep distress: the two men had known each other for over a year. But Cobra was not a place for deep emotion: if you valued your own life, you did not care for the lives of others.

Raising his rifle, the left guard prepared to shoot, when the Commander barked down to him. "No, you fool! I would not let it be that easy! Drop your rifle! You are only allowed to use your knife!"

Looking up at the Head Snake in disbelief, the guard nervously set down his gun and un-sheathed his six-inch blade. Tossing all emotion and restraint aside, the Crimson Guardsmen charged the other one screaming with his knife raised high in the air.

Cobra Commander screamed down to the guard on the right side, "Well, don't just stand there, you imbecile! Defend yourself!" Nodding intensely, the guard dropped his gun and grabbed his knife. The two men crashed together, slamming into the chamber doors, trying their hardest to stab their opponent for no justified reason. Unfortunately, Crimson Guardsman uniforms come with a layer of bullet-resistant Kevlar, and stabbing them is darn near impossible. Their helmet's armor was even stronger. This made knife fights much more difficult, or entertaining.

Laughing in glee as his loyal soldiers obeyed his order to kill one another, the Commander jumped as his throne's LCD video communication panel raised up out of the right armrest. A red light flashed on the top of the panel, and the Extensive Enterprises emblem filled the screen.

"Damn, it's those twins again." growled Cobra Commander. Looking back down to the scuffling guards, he called down to them. "Here, use this!" He then threw the .45 pistol down from the throne. It clanged onto the room's metallic floor and skidded to a stop just a couple of feet from the fighters. The two men changed the focus of their duel to getting their hands on that gun.

Before activating the LCD screen, Cobra Commander flipped a green switch, which lowered a six-inch thick, transparent, bullet-proof, plastic ball down from the ceiling that encompassed the throne. It was designed to protect the throne from any form of attack; now it was only out to block stray shots from a Colt .45.

The LCD flickered to life, and the image of the two Crimson Guard Commanders appeared on the screen. "Hail Cobra!"

"Yes, yes, hail Cobra. What do you want?" snarled the Commander. He had learned that when the twins called him, it was usually bad news.

"We have…" began one twin.

"…Some negative news." finished the other. They always did that: completed each others sentences, spoke in parts and such. It was almost sickening. But they were identical twins, perfect reflections of each other, which is why they christened themselves Tomax and Xamot. Look at the name Tomax in the mirror in all capital letters. It reads Xamot. Sickening. If it wasn't for Xamot's scar on his left cheek, the Commander would be at a loss for their identities.

Despite their annoying traits, the men were phenomenal at illegal business. They had been able to create the massive worldwide corporation known as "Extensive Enterprises" and keep it Scott-free of the law for two decades. It had made billions for the Cobra Terrorist Organization, and secured an unbreakable grasp on the capitalist world.

Feeling his boredom transform into firing rage, Cobra Commander growled at the two men, garbed in their light-gray, five-thousand-dollar business suits, "Why do you two always have bad news for me? Why can't you ever tell me something positive?" Calming down slightly, the Head Snake asked, "What is wrong this time?"

Tomax began, "We seem to have lost…"

"…Contact with one of our Crimson Guardsmen." finished Xamot.

"Why would that be of any significance to me?" groaned the Commander.

Xamot explained, "Because he is David Carbo IX."

"Our experimental weapons relay in the Philippines." Tomax prepared himself for a blast of rage. It came.

"What?" screamed Cobra Commander as he stood up and hissed, an old habit he had long been trying to break, "You swore to me that your stupid relay plan was foolproof, that the Joes would never catch on to what was happening in Davao!"

"Please, Commander, calm down." pleaded Tomax.

"We have everything in control." assured Xamot.

Reluctantly sitting back in his throne, the Head Snake glared at the screen. "You just told me that you've lost contact with one of our most important field agents in the world, and now you're telling me that it's all under control?"

Smiling, Xamot explained, "Although we felt it necessary to fill you in on the situation, Commander…"

"…Please be assured…" continued Tomax.

"…We always have a back-up plan." said the smiling twins in unison.

Before he could respond, a gunshot echoed throughout the throne room. Quickly looking back down to the guards, Cobra Commander saw both of the fighting guardsmen lying on the floor—both of them were motionless.

"What the hell? How can that be?"

"We heard a gunshot, Commander." said Tomax with mild concern.

"Are you all right?" asked Xamot.

"Huh? Oh, yes, yes, I'm fine. Do your back-up plan. Cobra Commander out." As the LCD's image faded away, the twins looked at each other in confusion.

The transparent blast shield raised back to the ceiling and the Head Snake cautiously walked down the steps towards the Crimson Guardsmen's bodies. After testing them with his foot, it became obvious that they were both dead, but had died from just one gun shot—neither one had been stabbed.

But…but how?

"Aaarrrggghhh! I hate mysteries!"

9.

What had once been a bright, sun-drenched day had surrendered to an armada of gray clouds moving down from the northwest. Although they weren't spilling any rains yet, the clouds had given extra strength to the winds. The Pearl Farm Beach Resort had lost a lot of the activity on its beach and in the waters around it, but there were still some tourists enjoying the exotic atmosphere.

Pulling at the wrists of the light gray suit, Chuckles cursed David Carbo's smaller size. Chuckles wasn't that big of a person, but apparently Cobra liked their David Carbo's small.

The real difficulty was what to do about his hair. David was a brunet, Chuckles was a blond. There was no other choice but to put on a wide-brimmed hat and hope that a man standing out on a dock, wearing a business suit and a big hat didn't look too conspicuous.

Right.

Well, sometimes you just have to play with the cards that are dealt to you. David's little buddy would be arriving any minute now, so the Joe undercover agent looked down at the box he was carrying and prayed the tracking device Snake Eyes placed inside wouldn't be found.

A high-pitched hum caught Chuckles' attention and he looked up. A ski-boat skipped across the waves around a yacht and straight for the main dock at the resort—right where the Joe was standing. In a couple of minutes the boat slowed down and drifted up to the side of the dock.

The driver was Hispanic, and of healthy size—no doubt he was a well-trained troop, just like David was. He didn't wear anything that would reveal him to be Cobra agent—he just had a white t-shirt and blue shorts. Everything about him was plain, and that made him all the more frightening. Chuckles reached out and grabbed the side of the craft, then quickly moored it to the dock with a rope. The hat worked. If the driver had seen his blond hair, he would never have pulled up to the dock.

Willing to risk everything on a hunch, Chuckles asked, "You Reyes?"

"What if I am? Who are you?" asked the boat's driver, "Where's Dave? Why are you in his suit?"

"Dave has been replaced. I am the relay agent in Davao City now." said Chuckles sternly.

"Liar. I would have been informed of something like that. Untie my boat, now."

Holding out the box, Chuckles slapped it, "Look! Here's the box! I've delivered it in perfect shape and on time, just as I was ordered to. Do you believe me now?"

Still looking doubtful, and staying away from the box, the driver stood up and asked, "Let me see your orders."

Tucking the box back under his arm, the Joe reached into his shirt-pocket. "Here. Look for yourself." He handed them over to the driver, who snatched them away and sat back down.

After reading them for a minute, the driver shook his head. "Dammit all to hell. Why wasn't I told about this?"

Feeling a bit of tension loosening in his chest, Chuckles held out the box again. "I'm not in charge of big decisions. I just do as I'm told."

Grabbing the box, the driver cursed and told Chuckles to untie him from the dock. After loosening the rope and tossing it onto the bow, the Joe undercover agent waved to the driver, who ignored him as the ski-boat raced around and took off—strangely enough straight back for the yacht.

Once the sleek little boat was out of sight, Scarlett and Snake Eyes walked out from behind the boathouse, then down the dock and up to Chuckles.

"So, it worked?" asked Scarlett.

"Yup. Piece of cake. And the pick-up guy was Julio Reyes."

"Well, we've found him, too, then. How did Mainframe's fake orders do?"

Chuckles smiled and turned around. "Hook, line and sinker. That smuggler moron was totally fooled."

Scarlett stepped to the dock's edge and looked out to the horizon. "Good. Let's get everyone together and into a boat. We've got some Cobras to chase after, and no time to spare."


	3. Weapon's Test

**Chapter Three**

**Weapon's Test**

Wrapped in a _jilbab_, or Arab woman's garment, and hidden behind a _khimar_, or veil, the Baroness squirmed in discomfort. She wished for the feel of a cool breeze, or better yet, the freedom to work on her tan. But Destro had ordered a low-profile to their presence in Libya, and asked her to adorn traditional Muslim attire. It was a difficult burden to bear—she was a woman who liked to flaunt her striking beauty, not hide it beneath a disguise based on suppressing temptation.

Her lover's manufacturing plant was outside the town of Sabha, just about the only large urban area in the center of the Saharan Desert. Sabha was built atop a huge oasis and surrounded by red rocky sands. Destro kept his plant at a distance from the Libyan government's own weapons research center and training camp by the city. In the 1980's, the U.S. government had kept an eye on the Sabha area—that was what made the area perfect for the current M.A.R.S. manufacturing plant.: if the U.S. took a look again, it would think any goings-on were an operation of the Libyan government, not Destro.

The sand-scraped, two-story plant was small and decrepit-looking—but that was a deception. Once a visitor stepped in, their breath was usually taken away by the shining and ultra-modern lay-out of the structure. Miniature, yet highly-efficient claws hung from the ceiling along large robotic arms and conveyor belts covered with partially-constructed assault-rifles and gun-parts. This plant was not designed for vehicles—it was an infantry-weapons plant, and the shelves lining its walls were smothered with rows of ultra-modern, highly-destructive hand-held weapons, many of which could be seen in the ranks of Cobra and the Iron Grenadiers. Still other shelves held light, removable weapons designed to be attached to conventional and experimental vehicles. Turrets and heavy-machine-gun mounts hung from the silvery ceiling alongside missile-launchers and RPGs.

Strategically, Destro kept his ammunition production separate from his weapons production, in an effort to help reduce damage from bombing and to make weapons theft less destructive. Ammo supply was kept to a bare minimum in this building, despite the thousands of devices that needed the bullets and rockets.

Tired of looking across the view of the Sahara's sickeningly red horizon, the Baroness spun around and headed through the southern entrance of the plant, nearly smashing apart the rusty brown door. Knowing right where Destro was, she stomped up the stairs, ripping off her khimar as she climbed.

Shoving open the thick stainless-steel door into the research room, Baroness could see her lover sitting right where he was the last time she saw him. He was wearing his normal outfit now—no longer the dress uniform. It was black, and enticingly tight. A unique feature was the thick red collar that rounded high above his shoulders. But the Baroness' favorite aspect was that the black shirt parted below the chest, revealing a yellow shirt that stuck tightly to the weapons genius' broad chest. Destro had a strong, powerful chest, one that was a thrill to run her hand across—if that silly rectangular ruby-red medallion he wore around his neck didn't get in the way.

"Destro! I cannot stand it here another day! If you do not finish your project right now I am leaving without you!" barked the frustrated temptress.

Sighing, the weapons designer replied, "Patience, dear Baroness. This work is of utmost importance, and cannot be rushed. But rejoice! You have timed your entrance quite exquisitely, because I have just completed the inner core of my device."

Now intrigued, the Baroness took a closer look, "So, can I finally see what it is supposed to do?"

Shaking his head, Destro held up a fat, metallic, tubular device that had an insanely intricate layout of wires draped across it and sported a hollow conical cap on its end. "To do that I would have to take it outside, and since I have not constructed the outer casing yet, the device would be exposed to the elements, and could be irreparably damaged."

Despising the idea of not getting her way, the Baroness thought for a second. "So, stick it out of a window."

If it had been any other person in the world being so obnoxious, Destro would have killed her instantly. But this was the Baroness, and her spunk was good for him—at least she told him so. Giving in to her will, he set the device down and picked up his gauntlets. His right gauntlet carried two small missiles, the left had a grappling hook—they were two of his earliest inventions, and he still loved using them. "All right, if it is that important to you, I will show you what it can do. But if it gets damaged, you will help me repair it. Agreed?"

Smiling with an empty grin, the Baroness nodded. "Agreed."

After hooking up a rather large power cable to the device, the duo stepped out of the research room and into the decrepit hallway next to an empty window pane. Roughly a hundred yards away sat a junkyard. It was used to throw away damaged and worthless parts from the plant, or sometimes even to find scrap. Although it was not a public dump, people in the area had also filled it with rusted cars, old stoves and a hefty supply of trash.

Destro hesitantly twisted on a small power switch and the device hummed to life. "This, dear Baroness, is the Matrix Cannon." Setting the cannon onto a towel on the window's edge, Destro aimed it, then, happy with his work, gently bent forward a switch at the device's rear.

Sand lying on the desert between the plant and the scrapyard began transforming into glass. The charred ground spread out from the plant in a triangular pattern, growing wider and wider, reaching its widest berth at the junkyard. Instantly, every amount of scrap burst into flame or began to melt. Amazingly, bits of sand on the other side of the yard started a shiny change as well. The lights in Destro's production plant began to flicker and a pair of Iron Grenadier guards ran out of the building to investigate just what was going on. Suddenly, but with little surprise, the plant's power blacked out and the Matrix Cannon shut off. Destro flicked the power switch back and lifted the device up under his arms. Looking over to the Baroness, he smiled, "Are you impressed, dear Baroness?"

Quivering, as she stood with her mouth hanging open, the Baroness did not know whether to be frightened or start scheming on how to get the cannon from Destro. "My god, Destro! That was incredible!" She looked back over to the junkyard. A massive amount of sand had been changed into glass, and the scrapyard was still in flames, a molten wreck even more worthless than it was before. "How did you…how could you…I am speechless!"

An Iron Grenadier came running up the stairs in a panic. "Lord Destro! We are under attack! Something has laid waste to the junkyard and then wiped out our power systems!"

"Calm down, Lieutenant. We are not under attack. I was merely experimenting. Please reset the power generators and make sure the junkyard fires stay away from this building."

"Uh…yes…yes, sir!" The lieutenant saluted and ran back down the stairs, still in a state of confusion.

Destro turned back to the Baroness, "Come with me, my dear."

Once they were back in the research room, the lights turned back on, and Destro unhooked the power cable from the device. "The Matrix Cannon is an extremely complex laser system that instead of firing a straight laser beam, it shoots an expanding cone-shaped beam that keeps growing in strength as it expands through time and space."

"There could never be enough power for something like that." said the Baroness.

"Correct. You saw right here that my plant's generators couldn't keep it going for more than a few seconds. That is why I have been working with scientists around the world on ways to solve the power problem. One scientist in China has constructed a device that I believe will solve my problem. It is a power amplifier, one that should increase the life of the beam ten-fold. Another scientist in Japan has created a design for the Matrix Cannon that is fifty-percent more efficient. Usually I do not like working with outside sources, but this project has too much potential for me to be exceedingly stubborn."

"This all sounds good, Destro, but where are these exotic parts?"

Growling, the weapons designer pounded his fist on the table, "I was convinced by Cobra Commander to use his elite Crimson Guard to transport the devices to me through their quote-unquote 'elite network.' I am still waiting for them, and have heard nothing from the Commander or those numbskull twins of his."

"This is not the kind of project that you work so closely with Cobra Commander on." warned the Baroness. "He will snatch it from your hands and take it for himself, then screw everything up when the pressure grows too high."

"That is why I have asked for the assistance of Storm Shadow. As long as he's performing meaningless tasks for me, the Commander can't use him against me." Destro stood up and walked to the door. "There is still a third piece in development. Perhaps I should get that one personally before the Crimson Guard does."

"Yes!" the Baroness stood up. "I will go with you. Let us abandon this horrible place and secure our destiny on top of the world."

Looking back at the Matrix Cannon, then peering over at his lover, Destro sat back down. "No. I shall not go. You go, my dear. I must continue my work on the cannon, especially if the other pieces arrive. But I trust you to bring me the final device. Remember: without it, the Matrix Cannon is nothing more than a luxurious toy. Acquire it, and we will have the final part to my…I mean _our_…key to world dominance."

"Oh, Destro," said the Baroness as she slid onto his lap, "I shall go to the four corners of the world for you."

"It will be our world, my dear." As he took off his facemask, Destro knew he should enjoy the time he had now, because the future would be a much different experience.

1.

Slowly adrift on their rented fishing boat, the Joe team was growing more and more frustrated about the apparent cessation of time. Reyes' ski boat had stayed moored to a lone yacht floating about a mile away from the Pearl Farm Beach Resort in Davao Gulf for nearly an hour, repetitiously batting the foam pads that separated the two crafts. No lights were on in the yacht, and there was no apparent movement of any kind.

Chuckles had taken off his Hawaiian shirt, put on a blue button-down, and donned a large hat. He was leaning over the side of the fishing boat and doing the best he could to keep an eye on the yacht. Scarlett wore a similar disguise and stood next to him while manning a fishing line with her hair bunched up under her hat. Snake Eyes kept watch from inside the cabin.

"I don't like this." said Chuckles. "That boat's empty. I'd bet my life on it.'

Scarlett turned her head over to it. "You're probably right, but we can't afford to screw this up. Let's give it a few more minutes."

Chuckles looked to the cabin and called to the only quiet Joe. "What do you think, Snake? Should we keep sitting out here or check that thing out?"

Snake Eyes stepped out of the cabin and pointed to the yacht."

Chuckles grinned. "Now you're talking!"

Feeling surprise was irrelevant, the Joes took their boat up to the stern of the yacht and turned ninety-degrees, bringing their side up against the larger boat. Stepping out, they reached for the rear ladder and pulled themselves on board. The yacht had a very simple triangular shape to it. It had a very high deck, and little to no detail in its design. The outer frame was white, painted with third-rate paints. It had a wooden deck, with chairs set upon it, but they were cheep, plastic builds and the deck's wood looked like second-rate plywood.

"Boy, talk about your lowest-bidder boat designs." commented Chuckles.

As the team took a few footsteps, they noticed the deck begin to warp and crack. Apparently, there was no support beneath the deck!

"What the heck is going on, here?" cried Scarlett.

Before she could think of an answer, the front end of the yacht exploded, sending shards of plywood frame fluttering into the sea.

"This…this entire boat is made of plywood! It's just a hollow cover!" deduced Chuckles.

Scarlett's eyes shrank as she struggled to keep herself from falling through the floor. "Yes, but a cover for what?"

More of the front-end erupted, and the cabin dropped straight down, collapsing onto another boat hidden beneath the plywood shell. A crack zig-zagged through the middle of the yacht's body and the boat's frame began to split apart. Snake Eyes slid across the starboard-side deck and fell out into Davao Gulf; Chuckles and Scarlett fell off the port-side.

After once again thrusting her head out of the salty pacific waters, Scarlett pulled the hair back from her face and wiped her eyes. When she saw what sat in the gulf rocking in the waters in from of her, she was tempted to slip back below the waves.

A Cobra Moray Hydrofoil began roaring up its jet engine. The massive craft wasn't one-hundred-percent complete—its main guns and torpedoes had been removed so that it would fit beneath the yacht cover—but it was complete enough. If it still had its hidden front-deck missiles and a couple of good mountable machine guns, it could wreak havoc on Davao City.

The jet engine pulsed out rippling waves of heat, and the hydrofoil started to creep across the water. Squinting her eyes, Scarlett could see two men sitting at the controls: a Cobra Lamprey Eel, and the man who picked up the box from Chuckles back at the resort: Julio Reyes.

Chuckles came swimming over to her. "Scarlett! You okay? Can you believe that? Never in a thousand years did I think I'd ever see something like--!"

"Shut up, Chuckles." Then it hit her. Looking around, Scarlett panicked. "Where's Snake Eyes?"

2.

G.I. Joe's ace commando hung on to the starboard side of the Cobra Moray. His fingers were dug in to the mounting-hole that a .50-cal. machine gun would normally be locked into—if it wasn't for the fact that this Moray was stripped down for the purpose of disguise. Painfully pulling himself on board, purely through the strength of his fingers, Snake Eyes slid down to the deck floor and crawled his way up to the cockpit.

"Ha! Ha! Ha! That was awesome! We'll be able to brag about that one for months!" cheered the Lamprey.

"Are you kidding? That stunt'll make us the stars of the entire Cobra Organization for years!" dreamed the other guy.

The Lamprey put his finger on his chin. "Do you think Cobra Commander will reward us?"

Smiling, the passenger, whom Snake eyes deduced could only be Julio Reyes, bent his fingers into a pistol shape, "If he doesn't, I'd love to take him out on a boat ride sometime!" With that, the passenger fired his imaginary finger pistol and made a shooting sound.

As the two men laughed hysterically; Snake Eyes rose to his feet. Grabbing Reyes' body, he shoved the smuggler's head into the boat's metal side panel. Before the Lamprey could figure out what was happening, Snake Eyes pulled the Cobra Eel's helmet off and copied the head-slam move on him. The Joe commando reached over the unconscious pilot's shoulders and killed the craft's power, slowing the hydrofoil to a drift. After pulling the bodies of the Cobras to the rear of the boat, he slid down into the driver's seat. Snake Eyes grabbed the steering wheel, pressed the accelerator pad and made a steep right turn, racing back to rescue his friends.

3.

Chuckles wiped potato chip crumbs from his shirt and picked up the black box. "I can't help thinking that we're back to square one. Here we are sitting in a hotel room, looking at this stupid little box without a clue about where it's supposed to be going."

Picking the container up out of his hands, Scarlett studied it by rotating it around. "Yes, but at least we're back in the Waterfront Hotel. I feel a lot safer here than at that Pearl Farm." Their room's layout was similar to the Farm resort, but the décor was strikingly different, with a more processed look to it and less color. The desk that Mainframe sat at was a bit larger, and the window that Snake Eyes looked out of was a bit smaller.

"Hey, wait a minute, Scarlett." said Mainframe as he reached for the box. "I just noticed something." The red-haired Joe handed over the container to the computer specialist, who began analyzing the lock. "This isn't the same box as the one we had before!"

Chuckles choked on his potato chips. "Are you sure?"

"Absolutely. Look." Mainframe pointed to the lock. "The keyhole is built into the box, right? Well, in all my infinite grace, I scraped the lock with the edge of the laser-gun tubes as I was putting them in the box. Look: there's no scrape on the lock now."

Scarlett stared nervously at the container, and Chuckles picked it up again. "I don't know, Mainframe, the weight feels right. Maybe we should just open it and see if the equipment is in inside." Before he moved another inch, Snake Eyes pushed him against the wall and grabbed the box from him.

"Hey, what the hell was that about?"

Scarlett scolded him, "Are you crazy? If this really isn't the box, then it has probably been given to us as a trap, a bomb of some kind. I'm a bit disappointed in you, Chuckles, a G.I. Joe should have more common sense than you just showed.

As Scarlett sat back down on the bed, Chuckles stood in silence by the bathroom and Snake Eyes kept holding on to the box as he stood by the window. Mainframe knew he had to think of something fast.

He did.

"Duh! There is one way to know if this really is the box. We've forgotten about the tracking device we placed in it! All I need to do is turn on my laptop…" the Joe computer expert spun around and pushed the power on. Scarlett stood up and took a stance behind him. Snake Eyes watched from a distance, but Chuckles stayed by the bathroom.

"There!" cried Mainframe. "Look at that! The satellite connection from my laptop to the tracking device shows that the box has moved over seven hundred miles away from us!"

"Yes, but where's it going?" asked Scarlett.

"Well, I suppose we won't know that until it gets there. But at least now we know it's going somewhere. Our plan worked, for the most part."

"So, is it heading to Peru?" The group of Joes around the computer looked right to see Chuckles looking back at them, hunched down in a slump.

Mainframe turned back to his laptop. "Well, the tracker hasn't gone very far, but I can tell that it's not going East. It's moving very low across the Indian Ocean, so I don't think it's heading up into Asia. My guess is Africa."

"Africa? Boy, Cobra really does have a worldwide network." said Scarlett in amazement.

"I thought you said our next stop would be in South America." murmured Chuckles.

Scarlett picked up her bag and hung it over her shoulder. "Our next stop is wherever that box is going." She looked back at the screen and leaned closer. "I think we're a big step closer to finding Destro, boys."

4.

"Destro! Come in, Destro! Answer me before I send out a thousand Vipers to vaporize your precious production plant and melt off your chrome-plated skull!"

Grunting as he walked through the door, the chief weapons-supplier to the Cobra Terrorist Organization adjusted his facemask and activated his video-communications screen. It was not the enormous screen you always saw in science-fiction movies and cartoon shows. It was only a thirty-six-inch monitor that Destro had set up in his plant's main control room. What gave it a technological edge were the four digital cameras set upon each corner that took complete, holographic images of whoever stood in front of the screen. A program in the computer then composited an accurate holographic depiction of the person from the angled shots, then broadcast the image to another computer. It gave someone the ability to talk to a life-size hologram of the person they were having a conversation with, and not have to look at a side camera. Destro had constructed one of a smaller scale for Cobra Commander and installed it by his throne. One was also built for the Crimson Guard Commanders, a move that Destro disproved of, but was more than happy to accept an extra twenty-million dollars for.

"Commander, you are one of the few people on this earth that I would allow to say such an insult to me." responded the agitated weapons developer as he activated the computer and had a glowing copy of Cobra Commander appear standing on the floor in front of him. The Commander took a step back, obviously a reaction to a hologram of Destro appearing in front of the Head Snake in Cobra Temple.

"Destro! Where have you been? I have been trying to contact you for nearly an hour! I do not appreciate such flagrant disrespect of my authority."

"Calm yourself, Commander. I have only a skeleton crew here at my plant in Libya. I do not assign a full-time communications officer." Destro grinned as he watched frustration nearly drive the leader of Cobra towards chewing up the long blue hood that draped his head.

"Fine then. Let's get to business. I have disturbing news from the Philippines."

Destro's grin evaporated from behind his mask, and he began to pay a lot more attention to the Commander's words. Sensing Destro's change in emotion, the Head Snake sat back onto his throne, which partially appeared as a hologram.

"What has happened in the Philippines? You swore to me that your relay man in Davao City was impossible to find!"

Cobra Commander waved his arm. "Don't blame me, Destro. He was a Crimson Guardsman, blame those fools Tomax and Xamot. I can't control their network. It is a task too large for any one man. The point is that the relay post is gone. Do not send any more equipment there."

Destro slammed the counter. "Do you realize what your incompetence has cost me Commander? Those parts were one-of-a-kind! You have cost me a fortune! I demand compensation!"

"Destro will you shut up?" groaned the Commander. The tables were turned, causing both men to ponder the strangeness of the situation—it was far more common to see Destro damning the ravings of the Commander, not the other way around.

Adjusting his hood, Cobra's leader enjoyed knowing more than Destro—for once, "You see, Destro, when my Guardsman was captured, the Joe's were so anxious to find out where the box was going, they actually continued the relay on its course to us!" Cobra Commander began giggling his gloat-stricken laugh. "But when the Joes attempted to get it back, we gave them a duplicate, loaded with explosives!"

Feeling a bit of a smile slide back onto his frowning face, Destro asked, "What have you done with the real box?"

"It is on its way to you, naturally."

The grin totally vanished once again. "You fool! The Joes would surely have placed a tracking device in the box! If it is heading for me, then the Joes will find my plant! I won't have any time to finish the Matrix Cannon!"

Cobra Commander's laughter stopped and he began chewing on his hood again. "I…blame those damn twins! This is all their fault!"

Destro began typing and called up a Perimeter Defense Control Program. "Blame is irrelevant at this time, Cobra Commander. I have very important work to do, and a production plant to defend."

"I am sure you will do fine, Destro. You have free access to any Cobra asset in the Eastern Hemisphere. To be safe, I am going to head to Peru a week early and prepare our operations. Goodbye!"

The Commander's image flickered away as Destro cried "No! That damn fool! We are not ready to set up in South America yet. He'll botch everything up as he always does." Growling, the leader of the Iron Grenadiers punched open the control room doors, stomped down the stone stairway and marched out into the desert, looking for the officer in charge; he needed to do some yelling.

5.

The Baroness' high-heeled shoes clicked as she walked up the cobblestone stairway, turning the heads of a few puzzled men. After all, why would a robed woman be making such a curious sound as she ascended the walkway up into a Muslim village? Her high-heels represented the Baroness' defiance of her ridiculous disguise. She may appear like a poor, suppressed Muslim woman on the outside, but she was still Anastasia DeCobray, spoiled-rotten European aristocrat on the inside.

Still, as far as African cities go, Tunis was not that bad. It had some impressive-looking buildings and some beautiful designs, here-and-there. This small village seven miles northeast of Tunis, called Sidi Bou Said, was the supposed "crème-of-the-crop" when it came to places to live. Its buildings were almost all cubical in shape, with their second and third floors stacked upon each other with wide overhangs. The buildings, stairways and even the sidewalks were painted white, with cobblestone used as the dominate construction material. The doors and window frames were all painted blue, with some gold doors here and there. It was like stepping into a strange little world that was a tribute to the right-angle.

Despite getting quite a few confused looks in her direction, the Baroness brushed her way through the natives, making her way down the street, ignoring the markets filled with blue tubs stocked with odds-and-ends, and the mule-drawn carts being passed by European-style cars. Despite the ancient foundation to the village, the Baroness did pass a couple of fairly modern-looking restaurants. It was a merging of two periods of time. Spread across the world were many societies that seemed as though the ancient and the modern ages clashed together, neither one having dominance over the other.

But that didn't concern the feisty Cobra agent. The cubical apartment at the end of the street did. Clicking her feet up another stairway, the Baroness reached the doorway and knocked. A few moments later a scruffy-looking Muslim-man opened the door.

"Can I help you?" he asked in Arabic.

The Baroness slid back her _khimar_. "Yes, you have something that I want."

All color in the man's face vanished and he stumbled backwards into his dark and rude-smelling apartment. The little cubical residence was a stark contrast to the vigorous world on the other side of its walls. Clothes, food, books, even broken glass lay splattered throughout the apartment. Whoever this man was, he certainly did not belong here.

"B-Baroness!" he gasped, now speaking perfect English. "I did not expect you to come and pick up the equipment!"

Barging her way in, the Cobra Queen shut the door and dropped her _jilbab_, revealing a tighter, more exotic uniform underneath—however it was not her usual leather one; that would have been just too hot to wear in a desert. "Rahman Aktas, Destro has sent me here to acquire the piece of electronic equipment that you have on relay from Europe." She took a couple of steps in and held out her hand. "I will take it now."

Ali started shaking. "I…I do not have the equipment."

The Baroness eyes slid into a glare. "What?"

"I…my apartment was robbed last night." He pointed around with a quivering hand. "See for yourself. They…they took everything. I have nothing left."

Baroness examined the room more closely. Robbery was a possibility: the ravaged appearance of this place was a bit hard to swallow. Desk drawers were all thrown to the floor, and the television was missing from its stand, so maybe…

But a single object sitting on the coffee table changed the Baroness' entire perspective of the situation.

Clicking her heels across the room, the Cobra Queen moved towards the table in front of the sofa. "Mr. Aktas, do you know how long I have been a dealer in the Black Market?"

Dumbfounded by the question, the quivering, hunched–over man took a step closer to her, looking even more nervous. "N-no, B-Baroness. I would imagine--."

"Longer than I would dare to tell you." She turned to look at him and smiled. "It might let you calculate my age." Bending down to the table, the Baroness picked up a long, plastic object and held it out in plain view of Rahman. "Do you know what this is, Mr. Aktas?"

Feeling his confusion transform into tingling panic, Rahman answered, "A television's remote control."

"That's exactly right, Mr. Aktas! Very good! Now let me educate you on a little fact about the black market. Remote controls—of any kind—are very valuable objects. A thief breaking into your messy apartment here would never steal your television set—and by reading your remote control, it was a very pricey HDTV—without taking its remote control."

"Per-perhaps he did not see--."

"Do not insult my intelligence!" barked the Baroness. "Your remote control was sitting here in plain sight atop your coffee table. Even a naïve, first-time crook would have enough intelligence to look here to find the remote!" Looking towards the only closed door in the apartment—the bedroom door—the enraged lady adjusted her glasses and asked, "What is in there?"

Attempting to portray the stance of a dominating man, Rahman stated, "That is my bedroom. A woman may not enter there unless I allow it!"

Pulling out a small pistol from her uniform, the Baroness stated, "I do what I want, when I want, with whomever I want. Open the door."

Following the waves of the pistol, Rahman nervously stumbled over to the bedroom. Clicking her way closer to him, Baroness kept a close eye on his movements to make sure he didn't pull out a weapon from a piece of furniture or lump of clothing on the floor.

Rattling the door handle open, Rahman hung his head down as the door opened. "Get on the floor, hands on your head." ordered the Baroness. Once her prisoner had obeyed, she stepped into the dark room.

The room stank of cigarette smoke, which was strange, since the living room didn't smell like smoke at all. Once she felt around the wall for the light switch, she flipped it up…and shrieked as a pair of men dressed in black grabbed her arms and pinned her to the wall. Unable to withstand the painful pressure upon her arms, the Baroness dropped her pistol and began frantically kicking out.

A fat, stout, Arab-man, puffing heavily on a thick cigar, walked around the bed—which had a TV on it. "Baroness, I am happy to see you again."

"Muhammad-Rabah! You fat bastard! How dare you come here and ambush me like this!"

Blowing a puff of smoke into his prisoner's face, Muhammad-Rabah smiled. "I have been tracking you for a long time. I was happy to hear that you and Destro came to Libya. I knew I could finally catch you!"

After laughing, Baroness replied, "Are you insane? Once Destro learns of this, he'll have his worldwide network hunting you down, with a bounty on your head that is so high even your own men will betray you!"

Smiling, Muhammad-Rabah took another puff. "If he hunts me, I will kill you." He patted the Baroness' cheek. "He will not hunt me." The fat Arab picked up something that was sitting next to the TV set. When he turned around, the Baroness gasped. It was the black box. "This will be, as the Americans say, my "safety net." If he hunts me, I will kill you, or I will destroy his device. That is too high of a price to pay, I think."

"You really are stupid."

"Those are the words of a loser."

"No, I am someone who knows Destro. And you, you fat fool, have just awoken a lion.

6.

The sizzling, hissing noise of the welding device was unbearable. Not because of the audio volume, but because it was such a slow, delicate process, and at this point in time, anything that was slow was impossible to endure.

There. The weld was complete. Destro pulled off his welding goggles—he wore a titanium facemask, who needed a welding mask? The casing for the Matrix Cannon was now complete! Destro was very proud of himself this time. It really looked like a 21st-century device, with a smooth and shiny thirty-six-inch long and fifteen-inch wide tubular casing that had no hinges—everything was sliding panel access. Very sleek. It could even come apart at specific points so that the upgraded parts could be attached.

If they ever got here.

Destro nearly dropped the device when someone began pounding on the lab-room door.

"This had better be an emergency or I will drag you out into the desert and have you shot!" The CEO of M.A.R.S. swung open the door to see a panting Iron Grenadier gasping for breath in front of him. "What is the matter? Are we under attack?"

"N-no, Lord Destro. There has been an emergency transmission from…from the Baroness."

"The Baroness!" bellowed Destro, now happy that he had posted a full-time soldier at the communications post. "What did she say?"

"N-nothing, sir. The Lieutenant that went with her has reported that she has not returned from her pick up job for over three hours."

"Damn. Come with me back to the control room."

"Yes, sir!"

Destro's blood pressure was reaching critical mass. Nothing seemed to be going right today. First: dealing with the ambitions of that fool Cobra Commander. Second: preparing this plant for an eminent assault from the G.I. Joe team. Third: performing a rush-job on the Matrix Cannon. And now, the Baroness was missing—with the final part needed for his weapon.

Barging into the control room, Destro threw aside the chairs and stepped in front of the transmitter controls. After typing in a broadcast frequency, he crossed his arms and waited for a response. After a couple frustrating minutes of wait, an audio response came in.

"I am here."

"Fi--."

"Do not say my name!"

Sighing in frustration towards the mercenary's flare for the melodramatic, Destro continued, "The Baroness may have been abducted in Tunis. I need you to move in and rescue her, as per our agreement."

"Fine. But I do not like being a 'rescue troop,' Destro."

"You will certainly like having your pay tripled for this job. Now move it!" Poking the "off" button, Destro grabbed the sides of his facemask and growled. "Why must these buffoons be so difficult? Why can't I just find one loyal servant who will do my bidding without any kind of complaint or damning comment to me?"

"I…I am loyal, Lord Destro."

Looking over, the frustrated tyrant could see his control room op standing by the door, his hand raised like a little school-boy's. Destro walked out of the doorway and patted the Iron Grenadier on the soldier, painfully resisting every urge to punch this little butt-kisser through the wall.

But at the moment, he really needed someone manning communications.

7.

Buried beneath a dark night sky, parked a quarter mile from Sidi Bou Said, a team of three Iron Grenadiers sat in their black Volswagen Polo 4-Door, unsure of what to do next. In order to maintain her dominance, the Baroness refused to take any officers with her—just low-ranking trigger-pullers. Now that she was gone, and Destro hadn't responded to their situation report, they were getting very nervous. None of them had been to Tunisia before, and only one had even been to Africa before. This was a green group of mercenaries, without a lot of respectable military pride to fall back on. There was just as much uneasy heat pumping inside of the car as their was baking the paint-job—but at least the Polo had air-conditioning.

"I say we go in there and find the Baroness. We can't just sit around here all day waiting for some pack of malevolent shrugs to find us."

"Wilson, you are a fool. We can't go in there without Destro's orders. If he calls in a command to us and we're off doing something else, he'll kill us all for insubordination!"

"I don't know, Popinjay, I tend to agree with Wilson. If we do go in and rescue the Baroness, Destro would reward us greatly."

"But you're just a greedy thug, Reynolds. What do you think, Humperdink?"

"Well, let's stop to analyze things. Perhaps we could--."

Before the bureaucracy could finish its debate, a man dressed in light-and-dark-gray camouflage yanked open the door and sent the trio of newbies into shrieks of panic.

"F-Firefly!"

"Silence!" The Cobra saboteur looked around to see if anyone had heard his name called, then grabbed the Grenadier in the driver's seat by the collar. "Why are you fools just sitting around in this car? Why haven't you tried to rescue the Baroness?"

Mumbling, the driver, Wilson replied, "That's…that's what I've been trying to get them to do, sir. But they're all so bloody stubborn. Especially that Popinjay, he has constantly--."

"Shut up!" barked Firefly. Blowing out frustration through his cowl that only left a small slit open for his eyes, the saboteur threw the Grenadier back into the car. "So, basically you idiots have done nothing. Because of your stupidity, we'll be going in blind."

One soldier in the back raised his trembling hand. "N-not completely blind, sir. I did go in to confirm the Baroness' destination, but could see no signs of trouble there."

"And you are?"

"Reynolds, sir."

"And you never went back and established a watch on the location?" growled Firefly. Reynolds slipped back down and shook his head. "Where were you idiots trained? A Boys Scouts Camp?"

Anxious to jump out of the car, the Iron Grenadiers began opening the Volkswagen's doors.

"Stop, you idiots!" Firefly sighed as the troops sat back in the car. "You can't just barge in there without a battle-plan! It looks like I've got a lot of work to do." As he looked up the street towards Sidi Bou Said, Firefly whispered to himself, "This is exactly why I hate working with other people."


	4. Secrets Within

**Chapter Four**

**Secrets Within**

A giant rooster tail of dust dragged behind a group of small dirt-bike motorcycles, appearing to physically attach them to the vast, sand-strewn plains, far away from any rocky trails and red sand plateaus. Dirt-bikes were not an oddity in this area. It was common practice for the young and the adventurous to take their motorcycles out for long rides across the desert. It was even a popular tourist activity—one of the few things to do in this isolated region that owed any and all nearby activity to a mighty oasis that breathed life into a dead land.

But these bikes weren't here for the fun of it, and failed at keeping that fact out of view. They drove in a formation, and a couple of the riders were inexperienced—a couple of small crashes revealed that truth fairly quickly. They also kept themselves far away from the oasis city of Sabha. The group of bikers stayed over two miles away from town—although the chance of being recognized was slim, they still did not want anyone looking at them.

It didn't take long to calculate the group's destination: the group of bikers were heading straight for the old chemical weapons plant. This actually caught the attention of the local law enforcement, who contacted the military police at the base outside of Sabha. The Libyan Army sent out a jeep to investigate the bikers…

Until the bikers turned away from the weapons plant and headed for the abandoned warehouse and scrapyard. Then the Libyan jeep slammed its brakes, turned around and raced back to its base.

Apparently, the Libyan Army was frightened of Destro's little operation.

1.

Skidding to a stop, the lead motorcycle spew forth a puff of dust that drifted above the ground towards the warehouse, still a mile away across the desert. The bike's driver pulled off her helmet and shook out her long red hair as the other bikes came to their stops alongside her, their dusty chrome reflecting just enough of the bright sunlight to make a shining wall of light.

As he pulled off his helmet, Chuckles asked, "Is that the place, Scarlett?"

Lifting up her binoculars, the pale-and-unable-to-tan-very-well woman nodded. "Yes. We're still too far away to see any specific defenses, but there are plenty of small buildings around the main structure to place guards."

Mainframe walked up next to Scarlett, coughing. The desert air was hard for him to breathe. "I lost the tracking device's signal over four hours ago. _Cough. _Just because our GPS pinpointed it to that building doesn't mean it's still in there.

"It doesn't matter. We still have to check it out, but we're going to have to wait until it gets a bit darker." Looking behind herself, Scarlett smiled. "I'm glad you two could join us. Without your help, we wouldn't have made it this far in so short a time."

Grunt smiled in humble thanks while Crankcase used the praise to strengthen his bold stance even further.

"Hey, it was nothin'. You guys were just lucky that Grunt and I could be re-routed from our flight to Iraq and dropped off in Tunis."

"Was it hard getting down here and acquiring the motorcycles?" asked Mainframe.

"Well, it wasn't too hard at first." explained Grunt, "We didn't have any trouble in Tunis. After all, when was the last time Cobra took any interest there? But we really had to wrap ourselves up and hitch a ride through the desert until we reached Sabha. Avoiding the law in Libya isn't too hard, if you take the long routes, like we did."

"And getting the bikes was a piece of cake." gloated Crankcase. "It's about the biggest tourist activity in the area, and there were plenty of dealers to choose from. Of course, we're supposed to have them back in about an hour or so."

Scarlett shook her head. "I'm sorry, but I don't think these bikes are going back. I hate to do things like this, but I'm afraid we have to take these to the end.

Snake Eyes had stepped away from the group of Joes and was keeping an eye on a small mesa sitting a quarter-mile to the southwest of the warehouse. Chuckles walked up to him. "Look like a good place to hang out, Snake?"

Slowly nodding his head, the Joe commando walked back to Scarlett and pointed towards the mesa. Getting his message she smiled.

"Okay, Joes, Snake Eyes has found us a place to hang out for a few hours. Let's head over to that mesa and take some cover." The group put their helmets back on, revved their engines back to life in a deafening burst of power, then began racing their little stampede of manufactured animals across the red sands.

2.

After the scarred, shriveled right hand tapped the deck of cards onto the table, its left counterpart parted the stack and together with the right hand, began shuffling the cards. Quivering as it reached to the top, the right hand began flicking cards out to the three men sitting at the dusty plywood table. After the dealer dealt the last card and leaned back in his creaking wooden chair, he slowly looked down at his cards.

"Hey, why don't you ever let us cut the cards, Rais?" asked a small man, thin with a long nose and an over-sized mustache. Behind him sat piles of boxes of cardboard boxes, many of them empty, many containing treasures from travels all across the world.

"Because he is our great leader, and can always be trusted. Has he not explained that to you, Bakri?" sneered the large man sitting across from the dealer. An iPod hung from his broad shoulders, which were themselves clad in heavy armor plating, shaped a bit like football gear. The view of his face was blocked out by a low-hanging light-bulb, swinging on a cable only a yard above the table. Few wires snaked their way throughout this thinly constructed wooden shed, decayed on every side, miraculously keeping itself standing due only to the mercy of God.

"Madani, you may hide like a coward behind all of your expensive garb, but I know you are the wisest of us all!" The hairy one, buried beneath a thick beard and long black hair covering almost every inch of his arms and legs started laughing and snorting. The others at the table just started shaking their heads. Shamim was a moron, who could never get a complement right. His eyes were so far hidden behind his fat glasses that his eyes were unreadable. You could never be sure of his intentions.

Bakri looked down at his cards. A pair of tens, a Jack, a three and a seven. Not too impressive, but okay. Wrinkling his head in frustration, he slapped his hand onto the table, rattling the plywood fairly hard. "Why do we always play this stupid Western game? There are plenty of other games that we could play, and yet Rais always insists that we play this game of sin!"

"Oh no, not again." sighed Madani.

Rais' old hands gently set his hand of cards onto the table and looked at the deck. "You may hate the West, Bakri, but I do not. I lived in Morocco for fifteen years of my life, in Casablanca, and learned many ways of the West. And still I embrace my Islamic heritage. Do not hate the West unless you are wise to its ways. Has the West abused us? Of course. But too many of our kind hate it simply because we need someone to blame for our troubles, and I say that is foolish. There is an old American saying, 'Do not judge another man until you have walked in his shoes', and I have made this a rule for my life."

Bakri sat in his chair for a moment, staring at Rais, then shook his head. "You seem to be wise, old man, but if you are, then why are you with us, working for the smuggler Muhammad-Rabah?"

"Even the wisest man needs to eat. And I have no money to pay the bills. Providing Muhammad with a safehouse in my shed for his men is not evil, provided I am allowed to teach them some common sense."

"All you ever do is teach, old man." Bakri stood up and walked over to the window, "And play poker." Gasping in panic, he then ran over to the door. "By Allah! Muhammad's car is coming here!"

3.

"…and do not let her loose, not even to relieve herself. If she must do that, give her a bucket."

Shamim started snickering as he studied the heavily-robed woman shackled to the pillar in a standing position at the back of the shed. She wore glasses, too, and her eyes were a mysterious green. Shamim hoped that he could speak to her.

"And there shall be no talking with her." continued Muhammad. "She is a seductress, and cannot be trusted. Stay away from her. If anyone speaks to her or even looks at her, they will be killed!" Shamim turned his head away immediately.

"How long shall we keep her here?" asked Rais.

"As long as I need you to." replied Muhammad as he handed over a thick wad of cash. The old man quickly grabbed the bundle.

"Then please rest assured that she will be well taken care of here."

"Do not make her too comfortable." Muhammad laughed as he left the shed.

As the sound of the luxury car thundered into the distance, the four guards looked at each other. Rais looked down at the money, then began handing it out to Bakri, Madani and Shamim. After the hand-out was over, Bakri griped. "Hey, why do you get more than us, old man?"

"Because it is my shed!"

"Yes, but we do all the work!"

"But I must pay the bill for the shed. You will waste your money!"

"Do you think me so much of a fool?"

"You know, I can pay you one hundred times that much money."

Rais and Bakri froze, caught off guard by what they heard. Mudani and Shamim had heard it, too and were desperately trying to resist looking over to the woman.

"If money is what you want, I can pay you a hundred times what Muhammad pays you. No, a thousand times. Do you want a million dollars? I could arrange that. Just let me go, and it is all yours." The Baroness was using her most sultry voice, the one that could break Destro's will in a heartbeat.

"Quiet yourself, woman, or we will silence you forever." warned Bakri.

Baroness smiled. "I do not fear your threats. If you harm me, Muhammad-Rabah will kill you. But if you help me, I will kill him, and reward you forever. Which choice makes more sense?"

"Muzzle her, Madani." ordered Rais.

"Y-yes, sir." The giant mercenary walked over with a bandana to tie around the Baroness' mouth. But before he could tie it on, Baroness got out one last warning:

"If you don't release me, my soldiers will kill you. This is your only chance to be rich forever! Take it, or—." Before she could finish, Madani wrapped her mouth, but before _he_ could finish, short bursts of AK-47 fire forced his body to crash into the wall behind the Baroness, then slide to the ground.

Looking over, the Cobra Queen saw the elderly man standing next to the hairy man, both men holding smoking assault rifles. The youngest man lay sprawled out on the ground, much like the big guy.

"You have promised us riches, woman." said the old man. "Have we earned them?"

The Baroness smiled. "Oh, rest assured, my wonderful saviors, your rewards will be…unbelievable."

4.

It had been nearly four hours, and although the sun had not completely disappeared from the horizon, it was falling behind the distant dunes, and the blue sky had transformed into a gray haze. A few lights had turned on around the warehouse, but it was still too bright out for them to cast very strong spotlights.

Keeping a wide spread and moving as fast as possible, the team of six Joes kept low to the desert floor. Split into two groups, they would assault two different sides of the warehouse. Limited to the small arms that Grunt and Crankcase found on the Libyan black market, they all carried Uzis or Spectre sub-machine guns—small, easily-concealed favorites of modern terrorists; fairly old weapons, but state-of-the-art was not something to be found in the deserts of the Sahara.

Scarlett crept in closer to a watch-tower on the western-side of the warehouse, then took a knee. Grunt, who was ten yards to her left, trotted over to her and knelt down beside her.

"What's the problem?"

Pointing to the towers, Scarlett frowned. "There are no guards. Anywhere."

"Well, somebody was around to turn the lights on."

"That could be automated."

As they nodded to each other, Mainframe ran over. "Hey guys, this may interest you: this isn't a warehouse at all, it's a production plant!"

Scarlett whipped her eyes back onto the building. "What?"

"Well, look at it. It's got steam towers, huge power cables and massive amounts of piping that lead in and out of the place. Not to mention all the heavy vehicle traffic that has left its mark on the ground."

After looking at the truck tire-tracks on the sand, Scarlett agreed. "So apparently Destro has kept a production plant hidden inside this beat-up old warehouse for a long time. No wonder we've never picked it up on our satellite scans."

Grunt lifted his helmet and scratched his head. "Do you think Destro finished his weapon already and took off with it?"

"No." replied Mainframe. "He received the parts about twelve hours before we arrived. It would take a whole day to put those pieces together. They're not exactly 'snap-together.'"

"Yeah, but did he anticipate our arrival and leave before it was done?" asked Grunt.

"The question we need to focus on is:" warned Scarlett, "Are there any traps waiting for us?"

5.

A lieutenant Iron Grenadier drove his jeep along Destro's Dominator's right side and began waving his left arm. Destro caught sight of the action and nodded his head at the officer, giving a thumbs-up signal. The lieutenant then picked up a hefty rifle from the back-seat of the jeep and aimed it at the Dominator. Aiming it carefully at the Dominator's cockpit, he fired the gun, launching a small magnetic clamp connected to a long copper-wire cable. A wheel whirred at a high pitch as the clamp pulled the cable though the air and slammed it onto the side of the Dominator's cockpit, just below the canopy. Destro donned a set of headphones, and the lieutenant did the same. Transmitted communications were unacceptable, especially out in a desert, so Destro had a special "cup-against-the-door" technology created for communiqué during silent troop movements. It worked surprisingly well.

"Lord Destro, I am sorry to bother you, but we have received a transmission from Tunisia. It appears that the Baroness has been liberated from her captivity by a pair of her captors. She is on her way to meet us!"

Although happy to hear of his lover's rescue, Destro was still nervous. "Does she have the device with her?"

"That…that is unknown at this time."

"Then we must risk revealing our position and transmit an order to Firefly and his team. I want them to find out where that device is and brink it back to me at all costs!"

"Yes, Lord Destro!"

The magnetic clamp detached itself from the side of the Dominator and reeled itself back into place on the Grenadier's curious rifle. The jeep carrying the lieutenant skidded to a stop, turned around and waited for the cargo truck carrying the transmitter to catch up to it.

Destro had no intention of stopping his convoy; he needed to meet up with the Baroness in Tunisia as-soon-as-possible. She was in danger, and he needed to be with her as soon as possible. He had forsaken attaching the two new parts that had arrived from the Philippines in order to rush to her rescue. Tunis was still eight hours away, and there was nothing he could do to speed things up.

The Matrix Cannon was as ready as it could be, and now that he had the parts from the Philippines, he was only waiting for the part from the Baroness; then, Destro's next weapon of dominance would be complete…of course, he still needed to reach the new secret Cobra temple in Peru. It was the only place left on Earth where he could construct it _and_ test it.

Curse his dependence on Cobra. Something always seemed to go wrong. Thankfully the Baroness had escaped from Muhammad, but if she didn't have the Matrix Cannon's shock amplifier, Cobra Commander would gripe for hours.

6.

Displaying a painfully-inviting rear-entrance, the southern wall of the warehouse seemed almost too easy. Despite the extra guard tower, there was nothing to fear, seeing as how there were, well, no guards. That fact had been quickly assessed by Snake Eyes when still a hundred yards out; if the lights don't flicker, then there is obviously no one walking in front of them.

There was more to this building than met the eye, and the Joe commando was anxious to find out its secrets; but he was more than a ninja, he was also a member of the United States' Armed Forces, and part of the most elite team of soldiers in the entire world. Although he knew he could do it faster and cleaner by himself, he learned long ago to never underestimate the value of someone covering your backside.

Looking over to Chuckles and Crankcase, he pointed them to positions behind the towers. They would provide him cover as he quickly, yet silently raced through the shadows towards the back door. If Destro had rigged the door to blow, Snake Eyes wanted to take the hit, not one of the less-experienced Joes. He knew how to sniff out bombs ten-times better than Chuckles or Crankcase, although those two cocky blowhards would never admit it.

Once the other Joes were in position, Snake Eyes ran far to the right, circling around to face the eastern side of the building, where there were less lights. Once there, he quickly ran for the eastern wall, when a glimmer of light caught the corner of his eye. Moving completely by reflex, the Joe commando rolled to his right across the ground and looked back. Wobbling pierced into the desert floor was Snake Eyes' katana—the one that Storm Shadow had taken from him back at Arthur's Seat.

Quickly looking up to the roof of the warehouse, the Joe saw a white ninja look down upon him from the building's edge, with his sword drawn and head-band flapping in the light breeze. Snake Eyes turned to grab his sword, and in classic cliché, when he looked back, the ninja was gone.

7.

Crankcase stood pinned against the tower keeping his Spectre sub-machine gun aimed steadily at the door. He didn't want an Uzi. Everybody had seen and used an Uzi. Spectres were a little bit less common—some European design that ended up in terrorist hands. Surprise, surprise. How many terrorists use an M-16, right? It all had to do with cost, of course, but that was what was great about the good old U.S. of A.: we could afford a little class.

What the heck?

Snake Eyes came running across the backside of the warehouse at full speed with no regard for the lights. He no longer held his Uzi, now he held…a sword? Spinning the blade into an upright position, the Joe commando swung down and chopped the handle off the door. Casting away all inhibitions, he then kicked the door in with a massive burst of leg power. Although he was still forty yards away, Crankcase could hear pounding footsteps as Snake Eyes tromped up a flight of stairs. Then, as if someone hit a "mute" button, the sound was gone.

Chuckles ran over to Crankcase expressing a reflection of the confused shock that the Joe vehicle driver displayed. "What the hell was that all about?"

"Must be some new 'Shock and Awe' tactic by the Snake-Man."

"Maybe, but where did he get the sword?"

Crankcase shrugged. "You're asking me? I was told to find these little pea-shooters, not a sword."

"There's only one thing that Scarlett would say to do right now."

"Go in after him?"

"Go in after him."

"Damn."

8.

"Something just happened on the south side!" cried Mainframe.

Scarlett ran a few steps over to look, then stopped. "Snake Eyes and his group must have found some resistance."

"Shouldn't we go help them?" asked Grunt.

"No. If they need help they'll call for it." Scarlett turned he attention back to the western side of the building. "There's no way into the warehouse from here. Let's head around to the northern side and see if we can crack through the main doors."

9.

The climb up the stairway would never register in Snake Eyes' memory. His entire focus was on reaching the roof and what would happen when he reached it. How he reached the roof had no effect on his mind. The only other thing in the universe that had any impact of the ninja's mind was the stair that would place him onto the roof. If he ran up to that step he would be torn apart by one of Storm Shadow's arrows. If he didn't go to it, he would be torn apart by dishonor.

When he reached the doorway to the roof, he wasn't surprised to see it wide open. The Joe commando was extremely cautious about proceeding the final few feet up to the roof. Snake Eyes slowly pulled his mask off and hung it onto the end of his katana. Quickly raising the sword above the top step's edge, he shook in surprise when an arrow sliced through the mask. He knew it would happen, but it was still a frightening sight.

Knowing he had only a second to move, Snake Eyes ran up the final few steps and jumped onto the roof from three steps down, narrowly avoiding a second arrow shot from Storm Shadow that was aimed ahead of the Joe, expecting a roof-entrance via the top step. Snake Eyes rolled onto the dusty roof and scampered left.

Storm Shadow cast his bow to the floor as Snake Eyes ran behind a large steel chimney. "My brother, I knew that you would come; our paths are intertwined forever. You can never hide from me, nor I from you." The white ninja drew his sword, and began marching towards the tower. "Face me, brother!"

Snake Eyes stepped out from behind the steel chimney, carrying only his sword, and no longer wearing his mask. Despite the burns and scars that smothered his opponent's face, Storm Shadow smiled when he saw it.

"It is good to see your eyes again, Snake Eyes. Your dark mask has hid them from me for far too long."

The blond Joe's hairs ruffled as a cold gust of wind passed across the black ninja and spread its chill across Storm Shadow's body. Snake Eyes raised his sword slowly, but the white ninja kept his pointed to the floor.

"Many people claim that we are equals, brother, but I say that is fantasy! I shall always be stronger than you, Snake Eyes, for you have chosen the path of the timid, of the weak-minded. You lack the passion that a true warrior relies upon to draw his inner strength." Storm Shadow raised his sword and roared as he charged at Snake Eyes, swinging his katana in an easily-blocked move, but quickly followed it with a hard kick to Snake Eyes' side. The black ninja swung his sword low, which Storm Shadow jumped over and combined with a hard chop that Snake Eyes barely blocked. Attempting to retaliate with a left punch, Snake Eyes missed Storm Shadow's face. The white ninja pulled back his katana and attempted to stab his brother, but Snake Eyes managed to turn left and avoid the maneuver. Storm Shadow jumped backwards to gain new ground, then charged back in at Snake Eyes with his sword raised high over his head again. Raining down a series of sword attacks, Storm Shadow pinned Snake Eyes into a defensive position, and once the attacks were complete, he thrusted forward a right-leg kick that knocked Snake Eyes back against the steel tower. The Joe commando fell to his knees.

Storm Shadow pointed his sword to the floor once again. "I pity you, Snake Eyes, my brother. I pity the man I once loved enough to risk my own life to save. I gave you the honor of becoming an honorary member of my family. And what have you done but insult the Arashikage clan with your constant attempts to destroy me?"

Snake Eyes looked up at Storm Shadow. "There! Your eyes tell me everything! Today is truly a first for me! For I am no longer fighting a black mask, I am fighting my brother Snake Eyes for the first time in my life! You wrongly accused me of killing your master a long time ago, but that matter has been settled between us. Now we fight because I want your name erased from the Arashikage clan, and you feel that I am disgracing the clan through my actions, and you wish to save me." Storm Shadow swung up the sword and pointed it at Snake Eyes. "I say you are wrong! I say you are a fool! You have no right to make choices for the Arashikage clan! Even if I must look into the dying eyes of my favorite brother tonight, you will not leave this roof alive!"

As Storm Shadow took a stance preparing for another assault, Snake Eyes reached around to his back and pulled something off of his belt. Slowly lifting the spandex up to the top of his head, he began pulling his black facemask on; only his eyes were left to be seen. Storm Shadow began shaking. Snake Eyes then detached his visor from his belt and hooked it on over his eyes, hiding himself from Tommy Arashikage.

"V-very well, Snake Eyes. Then we no longer fight as brothers! I am Storm Shadow, agent of Cobra!" Fighting to keep himself calm, the white ninja stood in defense this time and waited for the attack.

It came.

10.

"What's going on up there, Chuckles? I keep hearing sword-fighting, then a lot of talking. Is it a fencing class?"

"Shut-up, Crankcase," snapped the Joe undercover agent as he walked down the stairs, "There's some really deep stuff going on up there."

"Well, shouldn't we go help him?"

Chuckles pinned the Joe vehicle-driver to the wall. "Look, man. If there's one thing I've learned this last week of working with Snake Eyes and Scarlett it's that you don't mess around with their personal matters. They go old, they go deep. And if you throw Storm Shadow into the mix, they get mean."

Shoving Chuckles off, Crankcase griped, "Okay, okay, don't get pissy. Well, what should we do here, then? Clean the bathrooms?"

Pointing to a door about a story down the stairs, the undercover agent suggested, "We came here to explore the place, right? Well, let's start explorin'."

The door wasn't much bigger than any other door they had seen, but it was solid steel and six inches thick. Chuckles and Crankcase could feel just about every muscle, bone and vein pop as they pressed on the swinging wall. It was obviously supposed to be powered, but was just free-swinging dead-weight at the moment. The massive barrier eventually opened and the two Joes stood at the edge of a vortex, completely devoid of light.

"Damn. There ain't an ounce of light in this place." said Crankcase. I can't see a damn thing!"

"Well, that's what we brought flashlights for, right?" Chuckles clicked on his little fountain of light and began swinging it around the room. The walls were completely black, with non-reflective paint, and every shelf and piece of metal in the room was covered with the paint as well. Thin book and storage shelves sat against the walls, as well as a small computer station. Everything was small, apparently to make space for room's main feature: it was a massive work table, covered with modern construction tools and cables, all pitch black in color. Above the table hung massive robotic arms equipped with claws, laser tools and welders.

Crankcase whistled. "Wow. This sure looks like Destro's play area."

"Sure does. He didn't want any light getting in here, did he?"

As the Joes looked around the room, Crankcase tripped over something. "Dammit! What the hell is this here for?"

Chuckles laughed. "Stumble over one of Destro's fancy toys, Cranky?"

"Nah." The Joe vehicle-driver picked up what he tripped over. "Just this black box. There sure are a lot of them over here."

"Crankcase, you just made my day." laughed Chuckles.

"Huh?"

11.

Firefly sat on the roof of the white building, studying the decrepit shed that sat near the Port of Tunis, waiting impatiently for the sun to set so that he could make his move. He could set explosive traps anytime, anywhere, but organizing a trio of British boneheads would require a bit more…hesitation.

Muhammad-Rabah's delivery of the Baroness to this secluded sight was the biggest mistake that the North African gangster could have done. It provided Firefly with all the cover he needed to rescue Destro's girlfriend and escape without a scratch. As for the Iron Grenadiers; well, their health was their responsibility. He just had to help them get to the Baroness.

Speeking of the "Three Stooges," the skinny one who smelled like potato-chips came crawling over to Firefly. "Uh…sir. If you might notice, the Baroness is leaving the building, escorted by two men."

Instead of thinking of new ways to insult his enemies, Firefly focused back on the shed and watched a robed woman exiting the building, followed by two rather swarthy-looking men who were obviously hiding firearms. The Baroness was no longer tied up.

"All right, uh…"

The Grenadier smiled. "Popinjay, sir."

"Popin--. Okay, you're going by 'P' from now on. P, get the others set up for sniper shots at those thugs. I'm dropping to the streets and going to grab the Baroness when they fall."

"Y-yes, sir."

Firefly glared at the Iron Grenadier. "You a-holes better not shoot me. I don't die without taking my killer with me."

Popinjay gulped. "Y-yes, sir."

Cobra's saboteur picked up his sub-machine gun and ran towards the stairway off of the roof. The other soldiers grouped together and began attaching sights onto their rifles.

12.

"D-do not worry, Baroness," said Rais, "I have…friends who own a boat out at the Port. I…I am sure they will help us."

"You do not mean--."

"Silence, Shamim!" Rais slapped his fellow mercenary in the back of the head.

"I don't want to be captured by Muhammad again, boys." The clicking of the Baroness' feet was just as seductive as her voice.

"It is difficult to avoid his informants, but if we are quick, we will succeed."

"And then we will be--." Blood spouted from Shamim's chest, just before a loud cracking noise echoed from the roof of a nearby building. The mercenary grabbed his chest and collapsed to the ground.

"Shamim!" cried Rais, who bent down to grab his friend—and felt a bullet whiz across his scalp. Another cracking noise snapped in the background, and the concrete a yard from him chipped. Baroness crouched down and picked up Shamim's dropped AK-47. Rais cocked his AK-47 and spun around, looking up at the white building down the street. "Baroness! Get away! There must be snipers on that building down there! We must run, now!"

But as the old mercenary turned around, his jaw dropped as a chill wrapped his body. The Baroness stood looking at him with a cold stare, aiming Shamim's AK-47 at him with her well-experienced arms. Rais hung his head low and accepted the shot to the stomach without any pleas for mercy.

As the old man collapsed onto his fallen friend, Firefly came running out from an alley behind the shed. Baroness tossed the rifle to the ground.

"You had no need to kill them." snarled the Queen of Cobra, without even looking at the saboteur. "I had already secured my freedom and informed Destro of it."

"How was I supposed to know?" replied Firefly as he strapped his submachine gun onto his backpack. "I was just doing what I was paid to do."

"Destro and I paid you to make sure I wouldn't be captured like this. You failed miserably. Don't expect any pay."

Firefly kicked one of the AK-47s. "The hell I won't! Look, lady, I just saved your butt! You owe me!"

Finally staring at the saboteur, the Baroness replied, "As I explained, I had things well under my control. I had already saved myself. You've just made things a lot messier."

"Messier? Fine, then, Miss Tight-Fist. Get out of this country by yourself. I'm done!" With that, Firefly stormed off back down the alley. The Baroness simply frowned and began dusting off her robes. After a few moments, her three Iron Grenadiers came walking to her from down the street.

"Madam Baroness! I am glad to see that you are all right!" said Reynolds.

"Where is Firefly?" asked Popinjay.

"He had to take a break." answered the Baroness, dryly. "Get these bodies into the shed, and leave your weapons with them."

"Yes, mam."

13.

Popinjay, Reynolds and Wilson finished the work quickly, then escorted the Baroness to their Volkswagon Polo parked two blocks away. To their surprise, the car was gone.

"I, I don't understand." whimpered Wilson. "We left it right here. I thought that crime was supposed to be low in Islamic countries!"

The Baroness clicked over, grabbed his shoulder to turn him around, then punched him square in the face. As he covered his bloody nose and she shook her aching knuckles, the Cobra Queen screamed at him, "Firefly took the car! Think about it, you damn fool!"

Her rash actions drew the attention of some passersby, some of whom looked angry at what happened, and interested in enforcing their own ideals.

"We had best be going, Madam Baroness." suggested Popinjay.

Nodding her head, she replied, "There is only one Cobra safehouse in Tunis, and it is a long walk from here, but we need to get to it, ASAP."

A pair of young local men walked up to the group, speaking boldly in Arabic and pointing at the Baroness. Reynolds gave a short reply, and the two men looked even more confused. "What do they want?" asked the Baroness.

The two men barked out an obvious protest to the woman's talking. Reynolds spoke quietly. "They saw you punch Wilson, and want to take you to the authorities. I told them that they can't. You are our friend."

Three more men walked up to the group of Iron Grenadiers from the other side, looking just as determined to take the law into their own hands. The first two men began speaking again. Popinjay asked the question this time. "What did they say?"

"They say that you could not possibly be our friend, Baroness, and they want to know why we want to defend you."

"So now we are the bad guys?" Wilson painfully snorted out a laugh; it only enraged the men even more, who reached for the Baroness, attempting to pull her to her safety. The Iron Grenadiers pushed back at the men, with little success, until one of the Arab men pulled off Reynold's robe, revealing the long knife that he carried beneath it. Screaming in fear, the Arab stumbled backwards and tripped over the feet of one of his friends. He crashed onto his back and was knocked unconscious by the impact onto the concrete. The first two young men saw the knife, but instead of backing away, they jumped for it, and began a struggle with Reynolds for control. Connecting a jaw-breaking punch to the Grenadier's face, the younger of the two men sent the mercenary face-first onto the sidewalk. Seeing the blade free for the taking, the other young man knelt down, grabbed it and ripped it free of Reynolds' belt.

Upon hearing loud threats, the rest of the brawlers stopped their wrestling and turned around. Vibrating with fear, the young man cried out commands to back away. Following the actions of the Arab men, Popinjay and Wilson moved back. Feeling a bit more in control, the young man stood up, and waved the other Arab men towards the Iron Grenadiers, calling out more orders. They firmly grasped the white men and held them and twisted their arms behind their backs. The other young man knelt down and picked up Reynolds' limp body, then dragged it over by his friends.

Suddenly, it sunk in to everybody: Where was the Baroness?

With everyone spinning around in every direction, they all scanned the streets, but the sidewalks had flooded with people that had come to watch the skirmish. The armed young man cried out to the crowd asking if anyone had seen the woman, but only received screams of panic directed at his naïve waving of the large knife.

Sirens hailed as police cars finally showed up, breaking through the wall of people. Officers poured from the vehicles with guns in their hands and their fingers ready to shoot. Despite their best efforts to explain what had happened that day, the group of Arab men were arrested along with the Iron Grenadiers, but would serve much longer prison sentences.


	5. Gangster Wraps

**Chapter 5**

**Gangster Wraps**

"Hey I don't get it."

Scarlett walked over to Mainframe. "What's wrong?"

The hi-tech wizard ran his fingers along the edge of the twenty-foot tall, half-inch-thick steel doors that sat closed in front of the Joe team. "These doors, they aren't even sealed shut. Look, I can press on them, and they swing back and forth." Sure enough, with a good deal of effort, Mainframe could push them back almost three inches.

"So they're basically just giant curtains?"

"Yeah. That's kinda weird, don't ya think?"

Scarlett took a few steps back and examined the doors even closer. They weren't too rusty, but they had been sand-blasted red by the environment. Built in separate pieces like giant garage doors, they obviously were meant to be pulled up into the warehouse by a massive engine. But now, they were simply cut free of their tracks and hanging like drapes.

Looking over to the center of the right door, Scarlett saw Grunt leaning against it with his ear pressed to the side. "Grunt! Get away from that thing! I don't think these things are safe anymore."

"Hold on a minute, boss. I think I hear something in there. Like a buzzing sound."

"How can you hear through an inch of steel?" asked Mainframe.

"It's only half-an-inch. And I definitely can hear something."

On cue, the sound of metal crashing upon metal rang through the wall.

"Grunt get away from that door, now!" barked Scarlett. Before he could turn and run, a burst of explosions sent fire and shrapnel flying from the top of the door. Looking up, Grunt cried in panic as the massive metal panel began to tip over, threatening to smash him like a fly beneath a swatter. Scrambling as fast as he could, the Joe sprinted across the desert ground, attempting to tune out the loud, groaning sound coming from the metallic hammer descending upon him. With less then two feet to run, the door struck Grunt's head and knocked him onto his stomach. Crying out in pain, Grunt closed his eyes, but suddenly felt a jerk as someone grabbed him by the shoulders and swung him free of the crusher.

A gust of wind and sand blasted Grunt as a deafening slam punched his ears. Before the Joe infantryman could open his eyes again, his ears were again pebbled with the sounds of rapid sub-machine-gun fire.

Broken words began to spill into his aching audio reception: "…fire…those…can't let…out and fire…stop BATs."

Grunt's eyes bugged open immediately. He looked up to see Scarlett and Mainframe shooting their small guns at a swarm of Battle Android Troopers pouring out of the warehouse. The robots were armed with machine guns, flame throwers, missile launchers and even a few just had grappling claws. The Joe team's sub-machine guns were having little effect against the armor plates of the androids. A few had fallen, but there were plenty more to take their place.

Scarlett and Mainframe began a retreat, and reached down to pull Grunt around the building's corner with them. Once they had reached their point of brief safety, Grunt shook off their hands and stood up. "Thanks guys, but I'm okay now."

"Where's your gun?" asked Scarlett.

"Uh…under the door."

"Damn! We need to get out of here, ASAP!" The group turned around and ran down the length of the southern wall, jumping over pipes and cables. "We have to find Snake Eyes' team and--."

Scarlett was cut off as a BAT-fired missile destroyed the pipes that the Joes had just jumped over. Machine-gun fire quickly followed. Mainframe's shoulder was eaten up by a trio of bullets.

"Can you go on, Mainframe?" asked Scarlett.

"Y-yeah The shots passed on through. Let's go."

"Thank god those BATs are slow, eh?" joked Grunt.

"They may be slow, but they'll never stop coming. We're almost to the end of the wall, guys. Ow!" Scarlett dropped to the ground and grabbed her leg. "Dammit, not my leg, not now!"

Grunt crouched down in front of her. "Get on my back, Scarlett. I owe you one as it is."

"No, I can walk."

"This isn't up for debate, Scarlett! Hurry up!"

Knowing that it wasn't a good time to fight about protocol, Scarlett nodded and grabbed Grunt's shoulders. As he hefted her up, the Joe trotted to the end of the wall and turned left, with Mainframe right behind him.

Once again, they were safe, if only for a few moments.

1.

Despite the amount of discomfort North Africa and the Middle East always brought him, Tunis was not a total loss; it had a few points of beauty. A view of the Mediterranean Sea was a definite bonus. He would never say it out loud, but Destro actually liked looking out of the hotel room window at those monstrous cruise ships pulling into the Port. Amazing. But in his opinion, the town felt too "old." It needed a metallic skyline, with some high, swooping interstates. One of the few American inventions that he enjoyed was the freeway; the way the massive roadways twisted themselves throughout a city, granting infinite, high-speed access. Of course, those stupid Americans had too many cars for their own good, and simply flooded the glorious roads from one horizon to the next, reducing their speed potential to nil.

Wine was one of the few luxuries that could still relax Destro's anxious mind. Another bonus of Tunis was that although it was an Islamic city, alcohol was permitted. Today, the inventor's mind was very difficult to relax. Somewhere mixed in the ancient cityscape of Tunis that sat on the other side of the window, was his lover; very nearly a captive of a bastard pig who dared to demand money from Lord James McCullen Destro.

An Iron Grenadier walked over to Destro, carrying a plate of food. "Would you like something to eat, sir?"

Although his face was hidden behind the metal mask, Destro made sure his disgust was apparent. "I could not stomach another plate of couscous if my life depended on it."

The Grenadier, who had long served Destro as more of a personal assistant than a soldier, shook his gray hairs and raised the plate into the light. "If you will notice, my Lord, this is a fish dinner, called tajine in this land. I had it for dinner myself, and rather enjoyed it."

Destro eyed the food, then looked back out of the window. "Fine. Leave it on the table and assume your post. I will eat it shortly."

"Very well, sir." With that, the eldest of the Iron Grenadiers set the food down next to the wine, then walked out of the room and shut the doors. Now feeling secure, Destro reached up and swung the windows' curtains shut. After that, he placed his finger at the proper point on his neck and gave the secret voice command that popped the lock on his facemask. Slowly pulling the halves apart, Destro set them onto the table next to his food as well. The mask was no simple metallic shell. Sound amplification was also a feature, in sync with vision modifiers, including a miniature Heads-Up-Display that could display information sent to him via satellite and process the info in the facemask's hard-drive. Cobra Commander's mask was just as technologically advanced, but it was smaller than Destro's, and therefore lacked some of the computer power.

After sitting down with his back to the door, the Lord of the Iron Grenadiers began eating dinner; but after only a few bites, Destro was startled by chaotic screaming in the hall behind him. Cries of warnings were quickly followed by scuffling and slammings into walls. The door handle to the room jiggled; Destro stood up, grabbed his gun and faced the entrance. After a few moments, the handle came flying into the room as the door was kicked and busted. The door was slowly swung open by the left arm of a heavily robed person who stepped very cautiously into the room.

"I do not know what your business with me is," warned Destro, "but you are a fool to come here, for you have seen me without my mask on, and that is a crime that I can only punish by death. Enjoy your view, for it is the last that you shall ever see."

"Indeed," replied the intruder, in a lavishly rich voice, "Would you reward me with one kiss before you send me to my doom?" As the robes dropped, the intruder revealed itself to be the--.

"Baroness!" Destro set down his pistol and ran to his lover as fast as he could, and in a nearly crushing hold, embraced her with ravenous passion. "I was afraid I would never see you again!"

Pushing him back a little, the Baroness slapped Destro. "Do you think me so weak a woman? Things took a bit of time, but I was always in control."

Rubbing his cheek, Desto asked, "Did Firefly help you?"

"Bah! I never want him working for us again! That idiot barely lifted a finger. I had no need of his help."

"I shall cancel all payments to him immediately. What happened to the Iron Grenadiers that accompanied you to Sidi Bou Said?"

Baroness eyed the food lying on the table and walked around the couch, heading straight for it. "I do not know. We were attacked by a group of locals, and while they struggled with your Grenadiers, I slipped away into the crowd and headed to this safehouse as fast as I could."

"Lord Destro, are you all right?" came a call of a Grenadier intending to charge into the room. Destro grabbed the front half of his facemask and held it against is head as the soldier rounded the corner into the room.

"Yes, Lieutenant, I am fine. Now, if you would please leave, I would like to eat dinner with the Baroness."

"Y-yes, sir."

"And have some couscous sent up!" ordered the Baroness.

Destro felt his stomach rumble.

2.

Crankcase stumbled down the stairway yelling at Chuckles. "Why do I have to carry down all of these boxes? Can't you hear all of that gunfire? Let's get moving!"

"Trust, me, driver-dude, we need those boxes, I've already told you that. And we're almost down to the center of the action, don't worry; whatever's going on, we'll help out." Chuckles clenched the rusty door lever and slowly pushed it down, wincing in pain as the moisture-less metal shrieked. As he gently pushed the door open, the Joe undercover agent jumped back as a black-gloved hand grabbed the edge of the door and swung it open.

"Out of the way Chuckles!" barked Mainframe. As his teammate fell backwards, the computer-expert charged into the warehouse, quickly followed by Grunt and Scarlett. As Grunt set his passenger down onto the stairs, Mainframe slammed the door shut.

Chuckles helped Grunt settle Scarlett onto the stairs. "Are you guys okay?"

Mainframe slid to the floor and grabbed his shoulder. "No, I wouldn't bloody say so!"

"Calm down, Mainframe!" ordered Scarlett. Grunt turned around and tore the left sleeve from his shirt and began wrapping it around Scarlett's leg. "We reached the northern entrance and were greeted by a brigade of BATs. There was no way to get away from them. We're lucky that you guys were in here.

Crankcase, sick of his seemingly pointless task, dropped the black boxes. "Can I put these down, now?

Mainframe immediately took interest, crawled over to them and picked one up. "Are these what I think these are?"

Chuckles knodded. "Yep. We found Destro's lab upstairs. It was obviously where he was putting all these parts together."

Mainframe began studying each and every box, then throwing them aside. "They're all empty. Did you find any with any parts in them?"

"No, sorry."

Scarlett caught a tossed box and looked into it. "Then that means Destro could have finished building whatever he was working on."

"Swell." groaned Chuckles.

Buzzing, clicking and whirring sounds stomped through the door from outside.

"Yikes. That doesn't sound…lifelike." commented Crankcase.

Mainframe bolted the door shut. Scarlett screamed in pain as Grunt tied the bandage around her injured leg wound. She then stood up and cocked her Uzi. "We need to get out of here. The BATs will charge through that door like a knife through paper, and through us even faster."

"But where do we go?" asked Chuckles as he looked down a hallway. "The lab?"

"Where did Snake Eyes go?"

"We last saw him sprint in here," replied Crankcase, "but if he did, he would have found us in here by now, right?"

"Or else the BATs have found him." said Chuckles solemnly.

"There is no way that the BATs could take out Snake Eyes." emphasized Grunt.

Mainframe pointed upwards. "Then the only place he could have gone…is the roof."

Scarlett's face lost what little color it had left. "If he went chasing someone on the roof, that could mean…" With a spark of energy, she ran up the stairs almost as quickly as Snake Eyes did, her fire-like sprint inhibited only by her injury.

"Scarlett! Wait up! What are you doing?" cried Crankcase, but before anyone could respond, a hard slam thundered against the rusty metal door.

"Damn!" cursed Mainframe, "It's the BATs!"

"Let's get up the stairs, quick!" ordered Grunt. The group of Joes began backing up the steps as the pounding continued reforming the shape of the door. After about a half-dozen hits, the punches stopped.

Crankcase ceased his accent up the stairs and squinted at the door. "Do you think we stopped them?"

On cue, the door blasted off of its hinges and flew into the warehouse, chased by a ball of fire and smashed into the concrete wall ten feet across the hall. Crankcase covered his eyes with his arm and leaned back. Before he could regain his wits, a trio of BATs walked into the hallway, searching in every direction.

As Crankcase lowered his arm, another arm carrying an Uzi reached over his shoulder and opened fire on the robots. The foremost BAT began shaking and spitting shrapnel. After a few seconds, it finally exploded, knocking the other two robots to the ground.

Chuckles pulled his arm back from Crankcase's shoulder "Sorry to burst your eardrums like that, buddy, but we're in a bit of a rush."

"What?"

"Get up here, you two, before more BATs walk in!" barked Grunt.

"Yes, sir!" replied the two Joes in unison.

3.

Having lost all of her energy to the pain of the bullet hole in her leg, Scarlett was left gasping as she slowly dragged herself through the roof door. The dry, dusty wind immediately swooped up her hair and blew sand into her eyes.

But the sounds came quickly and sharply into her ears, and they were indistinguishable: two ninjas were fighting each other. The sharp crashing of swords rang in the distance, mixed with the scrambling of feet and the occasional sound of kicks reaching their target.

Scarlett picked herself up and limped over to a chimney, trying to keep out of sight, but also trying to see where the fight was taking place. The sky was growing a very dark gray, and since the roof of the warehouse was covered in chimneys and large cube-shaped air-vents, the duel could be happening anywhere.

There: thirty feet away, behind a motorized heat-vent. A flicker of light. Two swords were hitting each other. Scarlett cautiously moved closer, desperately trying to keep out of sight of the ninjas. If there was one thing that she had learned during her experiences with Snake Eyes, it was that she was forbidden to interfere with his matches against Storm Shadow.

The white ninja ducked a high slash from Snake Eyes and countered with a low stab. The black commando dodged the jab and deflected the ninja's sword, then charged at him with a punch. Storm Shadow jumped backwards and slashed at Snake Eyes, cutting the Joe across the face.

As the lower portion of Snake Eyes' facemask tumbled to the ground, blood trickled down the commando's chin. The two warriors paused for a moment. "On any other man, such a wound would be considered atrocious." Storm Shadow smiled. "But, G.I. Joe Snake Eyes, on you, it is barely noticeable."

Scarlett could see Snake Eyes' rage as he ground his teeth. Her teammate grabbed his sword with both hands and charged at Storm Shadow, swinging passionate, powerful attacks that the white ninja could barely hold back.

"No, Snake Eyes, don't do this…" whispered Scarlett as a tear raced down her right cheek.

His rage pushed all of his concentration into his sword attack, leaving his body undefended. Storm Shadow saw this, deflected a cut and placed a hard kick to Snake Eyes' left side. The Joe buckled over, and Storm Shadow combined his first hit with a left kick to Snake Eyes' head. His sword flailing from his hand, the black commando flopped face-first onto the rooftop.

Standing behind his defeated foe, Storm Shadow raised his sword. "So now you see, Snake Eyes of the G.I. Joe team, you will always be weaker than the man I called brother! Good bye, forever!"

As the white ninja began the downward slash, the sound of high-pitched rapid-fire broke his concentration. A stream of bullets tore into his right shoulder, causing him to drop his sword. Falling to his knee, Storm Shadow unsheathed his hidden dagger and looked behind him. As expected, Scarlett was running up at him. Using his left arm, he flung the blade at the accursed Joe, hitting her in her right shoulder. As she dropped her gun, he picked his sword back up, and began walking towards her.

"It seems I must kill you, Scarlett, before I can ever taste my vengeance!" The white ninja raised his sword and prepared to strike. When only a step away, Storm Shadow screamed in pain and fell to his knees. Snake Eyes stood shaking behind him holding his own katana, having just completed a slash of the white ninja's back. The Joe commando collapsed to the ground from weakness.

Storm Shadow grabbed his blade and stood back up, but was looking straight at the barrel of Scarlett's Uzi. "Get out of here, Storm Shadow. Now."

With that, the white ninja smiled, ran for a door located far across the roof, and disappeared.

The red-haired Joe, coughing, desperately trying to ignore her pain and not swallow dirt, pulled herself across the roof over to Snake Eyes' body. The Joe commando was unconscious and bleeding out of his mouth.

"I…I'm sorry, Snake Eyes. I…had to. That bastard Storm Shadow. He, he was going to kill you, Snake Eyes." She had to stop him; to do what she did. There was no honor in shooting a man from his blind-side, but at the same time she saved the life of her friend…her lover. Wasn't that honorable?

Time would tell.

4.

Muhammad-Rabah leaned forward, with his forehead and fists pressed against the window. This…this situation was ridiculous. Just a few hours ago, he had Destro—the greatest illegal weapons manufacturer in the world—under his control; now…now he was only mildly hopeful for a few thousand dollars for the device in the black box that Muhammad couldn't even get open!

The "Terror of Tunisia" turned away from the window and walked back to his desk. He looked down to the papers that he had just finished writing; a speech that he would give to the mercenaries under his command, praising the faithful loyalty that Bakri, Madani, Rais and Shamim all held for Muhammad until they were massacred by the infidel Iron Grenadiers. Their families would all be greatly rewarded. Loyalty to Muhammad carried potential for glory, and disloyalty would lead to death. Bakri, Madani, Rais and Shamim would forever be remembered as some of the most loyal men to work for the Tunisian gangster, and had all lost their lives to the Iron Grenadiers in a brutal gun battle in the shed where their bodies were all found.

"Muhammad?" asked Samad, the man in charge of his money affairs, and a very loyal friend.

"Yes, Samad, what do you want?" sighed Muhammad as he collapsed into the chair behind his desk.

The accountant took a deep breath. "I know that you wish to shower the families of your loyal mercenaries with rewards, but I am afraid that, well, we cannot afford to give them much more than small sums."

Leaning forward, the leader asked, "How small?"

"Um…only about enough for a couple trips to the market."

Slamming his desk as he stood up, Muhammad amazingly kept himself from screaming out loud. He walked back to the window and re-took his stance with his fists and forehead against the glass, staring down the street. "I did not know that my business was in such poor shape, Samad. Was it your place to tell me of this?"

Swallowing a heavy gulp, Samad prepared to provide a condemning response, but was saved by and explosion. And another explosion. And another explosion.

"Samad! Come look at this!" The accountant ran to the window and stood by Muhammad's side. Three cars parked along the street were engulfed in flames. The two men shook in surprise as another car on the street erupted. A ball of flame elevated the small vehicle almost three feet off of the ground and sent its right-side door tumbling through the air and crashing into the building across the sidewalk, smashing a window.

"What is happening? Who is doing this?" asked Samad.

"I…I do not know. This is insane!" As if on cue, another car exploded, but before it even landed back on the ground, a blast fired off of the power pole at the end of the street, causing the sparkling wooden tower to come crashing down onto the burning wreckage of the cars. As the power lines snapped, lights began shutting off in buildings all around the intersection. Most importantly to Muhammad, the power in his building blackened out, leaving his building wide open to an attack of any kind; and with cars repeatedly exploding on the street leading up to his building, someone was obviously on their way.

"Samad! Tell the men to get their flashlights and grab their weapons. Everyone is on guard duty. Some one is attempting to assault me, and we must stop them!"

"Yes, Muhammad!"

As he listened to his friend crash into furniture and the wall, attempting to get out of the room, Muhammad felt his way back to his desk and sat back on his chair. He began rummaging through his desk's drawers for his little pen flashlight—a trinket that he never thought he would need—and clicked it on. He nearly shrieked in panic and dropped the flashlight onto his desk as the light revealed a man in gray camouflage standing at the side of his desk, holding a sub-machine-gun pointed at the "Terror of Tunisia's" chest.

"Who…who are you? Are you the one who has destroyed all of those cars?"

"Who I am is not important. What is important is your desire to live. Do you want to live, Mr. Muhammad?" The intruder's eyes squinted harder, showing that they could be even more frightening.

"Y-yes. What do you want?" Muhammad slipped his left hand down, attempting to reach for the pistol he always left attached beneath the desktop.

"I want the black box. Go get it."

"Black box? What black box?" Just a few more seconds…

The sub-machine-gun swung and belted him hard in the head. Muhammad had to pull back from his reach for the pistol to hold his aching skull. "Don't play stupid with me, Arab. Go get the box before I start removing your limbs one at a time."

Taking a deep breath, Muhammad stood up and shone the light for the doorway. "Follow me."

After walking into the next room, the crime leader pointed the weak little light towards a table at the back wall. "It is on that table. Take it if you wish, but I promise you, you will never get out of here alive!" Turning the light to the wall next to where he was standing, Muhammad grabbed a .45-Magnum off of the wall, cocked it and spun back around to where the intruder had been standing. He was no longer there. Turning towards the black box, Muhammad prepared to shoot…but the box was gone!

The sound of sub-machine-gun fire burst from his office, followed by the sound of shattering glass. Muhammad ran to his room, only to feel a rush of cold night air pour through the empty window frame. Looking out onto the flame covered street, the "Terror of Tunisia" caught a glimpse of a man running into an alley.

As the fire engine sirens grew louder and spectators began to line the distant streets, Muhammad finally lost his control and screamed with rage. Samad re-entered the office and walked over to his friend.

"Samad, be witness to my words. Destro, I dedicate the rest of my life to destroying you and everything that you have acquired and hold most dear on this world. I am, and always shall be, your sworn enemy!"

Upon seeing the rage in Muhammad's eyes, Samad took a step back, fearful not of what Muhammad may do to Destro, but to what he may do to himself.

5.

Rapid, pounding blasts of sub-machine-gun fire filled the air, mixed with the sounds of cracking plaster and wood—and the occasional explosion and shattering of compact circuitry.

Quickly regaining her senses, the G.I. Joe Intelligence Officer looked towards the doorway that she walked onto the roof of the warehouse from. As she expected, Grunt, Chuckles, Mainframe and Crankcase were fighting their way out of the doorway, shooting their light weaponry back down the stairway, doubtlessly at a group of BATs. Rising to one knee, the crimson-haired Joe looked around for her dropped Uzi. As she found it and picked it up, Grunt saw her and ran over.

"Scarlett! Are you okay?"

"Yes, I'll live. What is our situation?"

"The BATs smashed down the door and chased us up the stairs. We've got nowhere to go but here." Grunt looked around. "Where's Snake Eyes?"

Scarlett's face went white, then red. She had been so caught up in the current attack that she forgot about why she had come up to the roof in the first place. Looking over to where he had been laying after his fight with Storm Shadow, Scarlett panicked. "I…I don't know!"

The three Joes by the doorway began running. "Move, move, move!" cried Chuckles. A moment later, ten-square-feet of wall exploded next to the door, sending the running Joes into a tumble. A squad of BATs began marching up the flaming stairway, swung their mounted machine-gun forearms in the directions of the Joes and opened fire.

Before the androids could get off a dozen shots each, a moving shadow leapt down from the roof of the battle-damaged entranceway. Snake-Eyes slashed down his katana through the foremost BAT's right forearm, severely damaging the weapon. The Joe commando raised his sword high and hacked down a second chop, completely severing the weapon from the android's body. The other BATs abandoned their assaults on the other Joes and turned their attention towards Snake Eyes. Unaffected by the impending danger, the ninja pulled back his sword and stabbed it through the face of the BAT that he had just amputated. The robot exploded, and the commando jumped away.

Snake Eyes landed on his hands and feet and quickly looked over at Crankcase, who was just getting back onto his feet after his tumble from the wall's explosion. Snake Eyes gained the driver's attention by waving his hand.

"What? You want something from me, Snake?" he asked in an almost honored tone.

Snake Eyes began frantically waving his hand in a pulling motion.

"Huh? I…I don't get it."

"Snake Eyes! Here, take mine!" Grunt threw his Spectre sub-machine-gun thirty yards through the air towards his long-time teammate. The commando caught it, spun around and opened immediate fire on the BATs walking out of the smoke. The robots began exploding in sequence without a chance to return their blind vengeance.

"We've got a few seconds for escape now, boys! Let's get off of this roof and back to the motorcycles, pronto!" ordered Scarlett. Snake-Eyes pointed over to the distant doorway that Storm Shadow had used for his escape. His ruby-haired teammate agreed and waved the Joes towards the exit.

6.

As the BATs punched through the flaming wreckage of their brethren, they stepped out onto an empty floor. Their scanning systems clicked on, set to full power, and the group all turned left as a soft click emanated from the west exit; but there was nothing to be seen.

_Lack of visual contact: Irrelevant. Source of sensory stimulation: One. Style: Audio. Unable to calculate next action: Irrelevant. Next action: Investigate audio stimulation. Mode: Full Combat._

Charging towards the exit with their weapons-arms raised, the BATs prepared to tear the door from its hinges—

The roof began exploding at the feet of the androids, engulfing the robots in punching red flame and concrete shrapnel.

_Warning! Warning! Unexpected source of attack! Recalculate to def………….._

7..

Crankcase grinned as he watched the BATs crash through the ceiling. It would have been a perfect time for some whisky, but he learned long ago that you have to be thankful for what you can get.

Mainframe, Grunt, Snake Eyes and Chuckles lowered the smoking RPG launchers from their shoulders. "Great job, guys,' praised Scarlett, "now let's get out of here as fast as we can."

"Boy, you'd think Destro would have something a bit higher-tech than Vietnam-era RPG-launchers, you know?" joked Chuckles.

"We were lucky to find any weapons at all in this place, Chuckles." commented Grunt.

The light-hearted Joe looked confused. "What makes you say that?"

"Look around! This isn't an ammo dump. It's a weapons plant. You'll find a lot of guns, but not much to shoot out of them. The RPGs must be around for armor testing."

"Okay, enough bickering, let's get out of here!" barked Scarlett.

"Yes, sir."

8.

He was still hungry. The Baroness had eaten all of his fish dinner, then two plates worth of couscous because, well, Destro hated the stuff. If he didn't get something to eat before he left the hotel, he would make the plane trip to Peru very unpleasant for his servants.

As he packed the last of his supplies into a bag, Baroness entered the room, no longer wearing her jilbab. She was back to her normal attire of tight black leather. "Are you ready to go, Destro?"

"Of…of course, dear Baroness."

The Cobra Queen smiled as she saw the flicker of light emanate from her lover's face—and it was not a reflection off of his facemask. Locked in a sultry walk over to the weapons developer, she caressed his chin with her right hand. "Is something wrong, _meu armasar_?"

Destro grabbed her hand and pulled it around his shoulder. "You know I hate it when you call me that."

The smile on the Baroness' face thinned to a sinister grin. "But you are my stallion."

Feeling the sweat build up beneath his mask, Destro was forced to push her off. "No! Not here, not now. Please. We have work to do."

Frustrated, but in agreement, the lean, dark temptress brushed back her long black hair and sat down on the edge of the bed. "Very well. What do you want to do?"

"I must get my Matrix Cannon equipment back from Muhammad."

"Then why are we leaving?"

"We are in the heart of his territory. I do not wish to fight a battle on his terms. We must escape from Tunis, then coordinate a recovery mission using commandos and ninjas."

The Baroness laughed. "Now you are starting to sound like Storm Shadow."

"It is the only logical way." Destro picked up his lover by her shoulders and looked her deep in the eyes." I almost lost you once. I will not risk that happening again."

The Baroness leaned forward, then stopped in frustration. "Sometimes I really wish you didn't wear that accursed mask."

Destro set her down. "I wear it with pride, my dear, and I always will."

9.

Destro and the Baroness walked out of the hotel entrance and onto the sidewalk amidst a clutter of native citizens and tourists. A small convoy of European-style luxury cars awaited his arrival. Two un-armed, non-uniformed Iron Grenadiers stood next to a BMW that awaited the leader of the IG and his lover.

Many of the local pedestrians walking past the Baroness stared at her in shock and disgust. A few tourists took pictures. The duo of high-ranking Cobras hunched over and crawled into the back seat of the BMW.

As soon as the back right door shut, Destro looked to his left, and took notice of what was lying on the seat next to him: a black box.

"What in the hell?" Grabbing the box, the weapons developer began examining it. Baroness looked over and was shocked as well.

"Is…is that the box?" she asked.

"I…" Destro examined the lock, then began nodding his head. "Yes. Yes it is! How in the world did--?" Looking up to the driver's seat, the man in the passenger's seat turned around.

"Firefly!" cried the Baroness. "What are you doing here? I told you to go away!"

Despite the fact that his face was covered by the gray cowl, his smile was all too obvious. "I did what you ordered, Baroness. But then I decided to do a little freelance work."

Destro stared in amazement as he calculated the facts. "You…you went after Muhammad, didn't you?" Firefly nodded. "And you recovered the box by yourself?"

"No help whatsoever."

Destro smiled. "I applaud your ambition. You have redeemed yourself in my respects, Firefly. Excellent work. You shall receive your promised payment as soon as we land in Lima."

"Double."

Destro silenced himself for a moment while the Baroness growled. "Very well, double. Any man who kills the Tunisian gangster Muhammad deserves double."

Firefly took a deep breath and looked away. Destro caught sight of this, and took a stern glare. "You did kill Muhammad, didn't you?"

"N-no, Lord Destro." Firefly couldn't turn himself back around.

"You fool! You have endangered my business operations in the Middle East and Africa for years to come!"

"I told you he was a fool." insulted the Baroness.

Sighing, Destro looked at the box. "Fool or not, he did retrieve the box, and that has saved me tens of thousands of pounds worth of money." Looking back at the saboteur, the commander of the Iron Grenadiers pondered deeply, "Firefly, I offer you a new contract: I will pay you half of your current contract salary as reward for providing me with the box, and offer you free passage from Tunisia. You will also be granted another opportunity to work for me under a new contract. If you reject my offer, I will leave you here in Tunis to fend for yourself. Do you agree to my terms?"

Looking frustrated, but also a bit desperate, the saboteur nodded.

"Excellent. Driver, take us to the airport. We have a long flight ahead of us."

The Baroness pouted in frustration, crossed her arms and slumped back onto her seat.


	6. Onward and Upward

**Chapter 6**

**Onward and Upward**

Snake Eyes stared out of the window, watching the cruise ships pulling into the docks resting on the rim of the city of Tunis. It was a beautiful day, with a rich blue sky blanketing the green tint of the Mediterranean Sea.

But the black ninja didn't care about that.

He was lost in thought, with the beauty of the visions before him blocked out by a mail of painful memories constructed from his visions of Storm Shadow atop Arthur's Seat and Destro's weapons warehouse. He didn't want to fight his clan brother, but as long as he felt that way, Storm Shadow's hunt would never end.

It took all the strength she had to keep Scarlett from wrapping her arms around her lover and whisper soft encouragements into his ears, but it didn't take a mask-less face to convey the point that Snake Eyes wanted to be left alone. The man could express his emotions purely through his stance.

The Joe team was spread about the room, with most of the guys collapsed onto the better-than-average hotel furniture from fatigue. Their dirty, torn and even scorched clothing showed no mercy to the creamy white décor spread throughout the four-star hotel room. In a show of chivalrous courtesy, the men allowed Scarlett control of the recliner, since her leg was wounded and still painfully wrapped in Grunt's third-rate field-bandage. Mainframe, naturally, was sitting at the room's small desk, working on his computer.

Chuckles walked in with the manager, who squirmed as he watched the U.S. Army men slumping all over his pressure furniture. "There's no doubt about it, Red, this was Destro's little hideaway while he stayed in Tunis." reported Chuckles to Scarlett.

"Yes, yes, Mr. Destro stays here most often." stated the manager. "This is his favorite room. He enjoys the view."

"When did he leave?" asked Scarlett, trying not to think of Snake Eyes.

The manager nervously hung his head down, debating on whether it was more dangerous to answer the question or to keep his mouth shut. When Snake Eyes turned his head around, the answer became obvious. "He left two days ago, but I do not know where, I swear to you!"

"Two days?" gasped Crankcase, "That means he was in Tunis while we were out getting our clocks cleaned in his warehouse!"

Grunt stood up sniffing from the sofa and joined Snake Eyes by the window. "Our intelligence sources in this area aren't flawless. Everywhere we checked before you guys arrived in North Africa said that Destro was at his warehouse."

"Don't start kicking yourself just yet, Grunt." said Mainframe. The Joe team looked over to the computer-whiz quickly typing away on his powerful laptop computer.

"What have you got, Mainframe?" asked Scarlett. She nodded to Chuckles, who turned the manager around, handed him a tip and walked him out the door.

"According to our intelligence reports, satellite surveillance showed Destro leaving his warehouse and heading north towards Tripoli the same day that we moved north across the border into Libya."

Grunt interjected, "And since we were out in the field, we couldn't update our trackings of Destro. We missed him by less than a day."

"A day?" whined Crankcase, "I told you we should have commandeered the smugglers' trucks and just forgot about the bikes."

"Quit your griping, Crankcase!" growled Scarlett, "That's not our style and you know it. What we need to do now is figure out where Destro is and chase him down."

"What does your computer say, Mainframe?" asked Chuckles.

Shaking his head, the computer specialist sighed, "Nothing. Whatever the tin-head is doing, it's out of sight."

"I can give you Destro." The Joe team, including Snake Eyes, all whipped their heads towards the doorway; a fat, stout, middle-aged Tunisian man stood a foot into the hallway, with his head hunched over and his fingers intertwined like the roots of some sickly weed.

Crankcase whipped out his 9mm and aimed it into the hall. "Who the hell are you?" Chuckles ran over to the man, pulled him into the room and began searching him for weapons.

"I…am Muhammad-Rabah."

Chuckles paused for a moment. "You mean the number one criminal in north-central Africa?"

"_All_ of north Africa, if you please."

The team was dumbstruck. Scarlett was the first to break the odd silence. "Okay, Mr. Muhammad-Rabah, we're listening."

"It may be most difficult to believe, but I hate Destro more than you do. He has been my foe longer than you have even known him. I have an unbreakable network of crime in this city, American G.I. Joes, but it lets me know everything. I knew that you were here, for example." The Joes didn't know how to respond to that response. "I usually sell or trade information, but because I hate Destro so much, I am willing to tell you this information for free: he flew away from here in a plane, two days ago."

Scarlett's eyes narrowed as she debated the believability of this new information. Before she could reply, Chuckles took control of the conversation. "So, my friend, do you really think we will believe you?"

The sickeningly rotten grin hiding deep within Muhammad's fat cheeks spread across the front of his face. "As I told you, I am a man who hates Destro. I have come to tell you the news myself! Is that not an act worthy of trust? I ask nothing of you, only that you swear to use my information to destroy him…and his wench the Baroness."

"The Baroness?" asked Scarlett in surprise. "Why would she interest you?"

Muhammad's grin wrinkled into an angry expression. "That…is information for another day." He turned his expression back into a smile and looked back at Scarlett. "I have said what I wanted to say. May I leave now?"

Chuckles smiled and patted the criminal on his wiggly stomach. "I like you Muhammad, but there has to be more for us." Crankcase's face exploded red; he looked over to Scarlett; surprisingly, she seemed calm. Did she expect this?

"More?" said Muhammad. "I'm about to save you from days of painful intelligence gathering, and you want _more_? You Americans really are greedy fools!"

Chuckles swung an arm around the Tunisian's shoulders. "You've got to look at it our way: here we are, with a literal fountain of information (that's you) standing at our footsteps, wanting to give us one little tasty tidbit of info, then run off Scott free." Chuckles stared at Muhammad straight in the eyes. "That just doesn't press the pennies, my friend."

Scarlett cut in, "What Chuckles is so elegantly saying, is that we want to know everything you know about Destro's operations in this area; first and foremost what he was recently doing in Libya and then here in Tunisia."

Chuckles patted the crime lord's shoulder. "And just for the heck of it, what was the Baroness doing around here, too?"

Muhammad stared in confusion, then growled. "I am not here to be your lacky! I am here to ruin Destro."

"And Mr. Muhammad," said Chuckles while raising his arms, "by the end of our conversations, you'll have done one hell of a job."

Muhammad thought for a moment, then sighed into submission. "Very well. Things shall be your way. I will give you the information that I know about Destro. No matter what happens to me, that _infidel_ must suffer for what he has done to me."

Scarlett called over her shoulder, "Mainframe! Toss me a pen and paper. I think we're going to be here for a while."

As he tossed a notebook and a feather-tipped hotel-issue pen over to Scarlett, the computer-whiz offered, "I could just type everything."

"No, I need you in contact with the CIA and headquarters confirming anything that Muhammad says. Eventually, I'll need you to get us air tickets out of here." Scarlett turned back to the criminal who was now being sat down in the loveseat across from her recliner. "First question, Muhammad: Where is Destro?"

Muhammad-Rabah thought for a second, then shrugged his shoulders. "Peru."

1.

The Baroness stepped off of the 737-Passenger Jet and onto the wet asphalt runway of Jorge Chavez International Airport. Her legs ached after the long flight down from Mexico City, riding, in all things, Coach Class. Cobra Commander would pay for this insult, that was for certain. Buying the Baroness and Destro cheap tickets onto a packed commercial airliner instead of providing them with their own Lockheed made no sense. What could that hooded hoodlum be up to?

Destro stumbled out of the plane behind the Baroness, groaning from the pain in his legs as well. As much as he liked to brag about his physical prowess, he sure didn't like to be uncomfortable. He also didn't like having to wear a fake beard and hat for so long. It made him itch and sweat, and forced him to visit the 737's bathroom over a dozen times just to he could scratch and wipe his chin.

As the aching pair of lovers walked into the airport's entrance, closely followed by the two disguised Iron Grenadier bodyguards who had joined them on the flights from Africa to Mexico and then to Peru, the Baroness grumbled, "Please tell me that you know why we were reduced to petty commoners for this trip."

"I would deduce that the Commander is highly concerned about security, and does not wish to bring any unwanted attention to our project." replied Destro, not believing his own words.

"Is that also why he had our luggage, including the Matrix Cannon, shipped to Cusco ahead of us?"

Destro growled, but quickly realized it was actually his stomach rumbling.

Baroness smiled. "It appears that you are hungry, my dear."

"Apparently."

Looking towards the food courts, the Baroness nodded. "Are you that hungry?"

Destro looked aghast. "For junk food? I would never—." His stomach rumbled even louder.

The Baroness let out a rare giggle. "I think your stomach disagrees, my lover."

"Very well. Do they have nachos?"

The group headed towards the food court, followed slowly in the distance by a lean man in a black and white checkered shirt who took a seat at a table outside of the Food Courts; he picked up an abandoned newspaper and began reading, religiously keeping one eye locked onto Destro's position.

2.

Stepping out of the Airport's entrance, Destro tugged on his fake beard and looked up into the dark clouds blanketing the Lima sky. Baroness stepped up next to him and wiped off some cheese that had stuck to the beard. The lord of Castle Destro growled.

"We need to get to the private airport quickly. It will rain soon, and I don't want to be stuck here overnight."

"Destro, sir?" The weapons manufacturer looked to his right and saw a young Peruvian man walk up to him, hunched over in nervousness, clad in farmer's clothing and wearing a large hat.

"How do you know who I am?"

The man took off his hat and held it in front of him. "My name is Franco Remeidez. I was hired by Senor Tomax and Senor Xamot and asked to drive you to Cusco."

The Baroness almost screamed in shock. "Drive? It's four-hundred miles to Cusco from here!"

"Y-yes, Senorita. That is what they have paid me for." Taking a step to his side, he pointed to a beat-up old farm truck, complete with wooden side panels and a green paint job. The killing touch were the hay and crates of chickens sitting in the back-end. "This is my truck."

Destro stomped forward and grabbed Franco by the neck. "Do you really know who I am? Do you honestly think I would ride in such a piece of junk? How dare you insult me!"

"P-please, Senor Destro, I am only doing what Tomax and Xamot force me to do! They kidnap my family and take my money! I do not want this!" The farmer's fear turned to a rage that gave him a little ill-be-gotten strength, which let him push Destro away; in a flash, the two Iron Grenadier bodyguards had his shoulders painfully clamped in their powerful hands.

The Baroness smiled and walked up to Franco's left side, waving the bodyguards from his arms. "Now is not the time for anger. We will all get our chance for vengeance against those stupid twins. Right now we simply need to get to Cusco, am I right?"

Franco nervously nodded in agreement. "Ci, senorita."

Looking with interest at the Baroness and stroking his beard, Destro raised his arms in frustration. "Fine! Let's just get going!"

As the group walked over to the old farm truck, Franco put on his hat and looked back at Destro. "There is another problem you may not approve of, Senor."

The weapons manufacturer reached for the truck's door handle and sighed. "How could this situation possibly get any worse?" On cue, a black Pit-Bull slammed against the window, barking like crazy, spewing drool in every direction and scraping its claws against the glass; Destro jumped two feet back and the Baroness shrieked.

"That is Punto." explained the farmer, "He is guard of my farm…now."

"Punto?" Destro ached for a pistol. "A dog will ride inside your truck while we all soak to death in the back end, catching diseases from your chickens?"

Franco shook his head and walked to the back of the truck. "There are tarps." He pulled out some dusty, blue, plastic sheets.

Baroness began to hiss. "I swear I will kill Tomax and Xamot myself."

"I get first shot." growled Destro.

3.

LAN Chile flight 240 pulled up to Gate 7 at the Jorge Chavez International Airport in Lima Peru at 6:32pm. The 747 was basically dropping off a few dozen passengers from Mexico City and picking up a couple dozen more before it completed its flight to Santiago, Chile.

Mixed in the swarm, the herd walking across the bridge to the gate terminal was the ever expanding pack of G.I. Joes, led by Scarlett and Snake Eyes, with Mainframe, Chuckles, Crankcase and Grunt close behind. The team got some desperately needed rest on the long flight over from Tunis, but were still looking a bit beat-up.

Especially Scarlett. Snake Eyes spent time on the flight working on her leg, and got it looking and feeling about as good as it possibly could; but she was still limping, and desperately needed a doctor's eye.

"Hey, what do you know?" said Chuckles, "It's raining! Last time I was here it rained for three days straight. Never changes."

"Don't get too depressed, Chucky. Latest weather reports say this shower should be gone by midnight." said Mainframe.

"So what's tomorrow gonna be like? Any sunshine?"

"Can you two shut up?" groaned Crankcase.

"What's your problem?"

"I have a headache, okay, Chuckles? And I'm hungry, too."

Scarlett pointed over to the Food Courts. Look, why don't you guys just go get some nachos while Snake and I look for our contacts."

"Sounds good to me." replied to Crankcase as he bee-lined for the food.

Scarlett, Snake Eyes and Grunt walked off, and as Grunt waited for the luggage, the mission leaders exited the building.

The rain was strong, but not overbearing. The two Joes walked out towards the parking area, looking for a rather distinctive duo; it didn't take long to find them leaning against a rather sad-looking blue tour bus parked near the southern end of the airport.

"You know, Scarlett, a limp really isn't your style." said the black man, who took off his large sunglasses and wiped them with his white t-shirt. He tucked the shirt back behind his green jacket, slid his glasses back on and adjusted his brown cap.

"Ouch." commented the other man, while expressing a concerned look on his mustached face. He took off his green jacket to reveal a simple red football uniform bearing the number "14" and came over to Scarlett.

As he wrapped the Joe Counter Intelligence Officer in his coat, protecting her from the rain, she smiled and nodded. "Thanks, Bazooka." Snake Eyes gently tapped the old-fashioned leather football cap on Bazooka's head, and although the commando's rubber mask kept all of his facial movements a mystery, Bazooka knew that he was smiling.

"Okay, okay," grumbled the remaining stranger, "Pleasantries aside. Where's the rest of the team?"

"Relax, Alpine," said Scarlett as she entered the bus, "They wanted to grab a bite to eat."

"Didn't you get anything on the plane?"

"They don't feed you enough on flights anymore, remember? Look, let's just take five until the rest of the guys show up." Scarlett crawled up to a front seat and sat down, letting out a sight of relief. Snake Eyes walked to the rear window and kept watch. Alpine let out a puff of frustration and leaned against the tour bus' entrance, then whispered to Bazooka.

"These guys sound beat, Bazook'. If they don't get some energy, they'll never get through what we're up against out near Cusco."

"Yup."

4.

As the truck came crashing down from another bump in the road, Destro could feel the stabbing pain in his butt amplify to levels he never thought possible.

"I…I can't take it anymore! I am the Lord of Castle Destro! I do not ride in the back of hay trucks with chickens!"

The Baroness smiled. "You have spent plenty of time with Cobra Commander. I think you have the latter well covered." She picked up a chicken cage and handed it over to her lover. Destro was too agitated to laugh; but before he could start his next round of complaints, the rattling truck rattled even harder, then came to a stop.

"What's going on? Smith, McIntire, take a look." Destro pointed his Iron Grenadiers out the back, and the two soldiers lifted up the blue tarps and looked around the sides of the truck.

Smith reported back in. "We appear to be in a small city, sir. I'm not sure where."

McIntire brushed some of the rain water from his face. "Franco is coming back here, sir."

"Good." Destro squirmed up to his knees and clamped his hand onto his aching backside. "Perhaps we've reached our destination."

The Iron Grenadiers flipped up the tarp as Franco approached and crawled onto the truck's back end, just to get out of the rain.

"Buenas noches, Senor Destro." He was trembling. "We have reached the city of Ayacucho, but it is late and the weather is bad, so I would like to stay here for the night. I think that you would like a break from the ride as well, ci?"

Frustrated, but in too much pain to argue, Destro nodded in agreement. "Fine, take us to the best hotel in town."

"We are already there, Senor."

The Baroness snorted, then simply smiled.

Destro pushed himself off of the truck. "Excellent. Get me off of this garbage scowl." The weapons manufacturer stepped out onto the entranceway of the Plaza Hotel, a fancy white and green building constructed in Spanish colonial design near the town center of Ayacucho.

"Not bad," commented the Baroness, "But I've seen better."

"Forgive me if this is not to your approval." whimpered Franco.

"It will do. I just want to lie down and get some sleep." Baroness held onto Destro's arm and the pair walked into the hotel.

5.

A few minutes later, another truck, not much different in appearance than Franco's, pulled up to a restaurant down the street from the Plaza Hotel. The rattling old brown pickup splashed to a stop in a parking slot, its engine backfired, then died.

The slim man in the black and white checkered shirt opened the driver's side door and stepped out. He gazed up the street at the Plaza Hotel and watched as Franco's truck drove away from the entrance, then swung around to the parking lot and took rest in a parking area. The man wiped the rain from his head, then reached back into his truck and grabbed a large duffle-bag. After swinging it over his shoulder, he gracefully kicked the truck's door shut and began walking towards the Plaza Hotel—or more precisely, a green truck parked in its parking lot.

6.

As the patter of rain beat the roof of the old metallic tour bus, Alpine tried to emphasize the importance of the information that he carried. However, the fact that Scarlett was half-awake, Snake-Eyes seemed pre-occupied, Mainframe was working on his computer, Chuckles was still chomping on nachos and Crankcase couldn't care less about what the Joe Mountain Trooper had to say, it was a rather daunting task. At least Grunt was paying attention, so, he received all the focus.

"Bazooka and I have spent the last three days here, gathering info about Cobra's operations out near Cusco. And let me tell you, they're big."

"Yup." confirmed Bazooka.

"So what's the scoop?" asked Chuckles, with a mouth full of chips.

Annoyed, Alpine continued. "Apparently, Cobra has been trucking in building supplies for over a year now. No one knows for sure, but rumor is they've got an underground temple right next to Machu Picchu."

"Machu Picchu?" gasped Crankcase. "You mean the Incan Ruins?"

"There are more Incan Ruins than just Machu Picchu." snarled Mainframe. "Those things are filled with tourists every day! How could Cobra build a temple there and not have anyone notice?"

Alpine frowned. "Someone did notice, Sherlock. That's why we know about it."

"Well, it sure took a long time to notice."

"Stop this bickering!" barked Scarlett. "Whether Cobra has a temple there or not is irrelevant. It's our only lead and we're going to follow it." Sighing, she laid back in pain. Snake Eyes reached down and held her.

Grunt knew that things needed to get moving. "Alpine, have you secured us some transportation to Cusco?"

"Yes. Well, no. Um, sort of."

"So what's the answer?" growled Crankcase.

"Look, I had us all on a flight to Cusco, but this storm has cancelled all private flights to that area of the country. So…" Alpine spread his arms. "Ta-da!" The Joes looked around, then they all panicked as the answer hit them.

"You can't mean…" whispered Chuckles as a jalapeno slid off of his chin.

"You bet. We're all taking the tour!" Alpine forced a sickening grin on his face.

"This bus is older than my aunt Doris." complained Crankcase.

"Hey, no worries." reassured Alpine, "Bazooka checked it out, and it's workin' great, right Bazook'?"

"Needs new windshield wipers."

Alpine punched his pal in the shoulder.

As the group groaned, Scarlett looked up to Snake Eyes. "I…I don't know if I can make it any further without some help Snake Eyes. Take me to a hospital, okay?" The Joe Commando nodded, and picked up his crimson-haired lover. The rest of the team quieted their groaning as the pair walked down the center of the bus.

"I can't make it any farther. Grunt, you're in charge, now. Snake Eyes will catch up to you guys as soon as he can." As a tear trickled down her cheek, Scarlett tried to smile. "I…I'm sorry, guys. Yo Joe." Snake Eyes carefully carried her out the bus' door.

No one made a sound; it was something that they knew would happen, but never expected to see. Unfortunately, the team had just lost their two biggest guns, right when the mission's danger-level had jumped ten-fold.

7.

The next day Destro and his group left the Plaza Hotel, walking out towards Franco's old green farm truck, which rumbled in waiting by the hotel's front entrance. The sky was only freckled with small puffs of clouds. Although there would be no rain today, the ground was saturated with the moisture from yesterday's storm.

"Senor Destro, it is good to see you today. Everything is ready for our final journey to Cusco." said Franco.

Destro yawned behind his fake beard and scratched his soon-to-be-sore butt. "Excellent. Let's get going, then."

Before the four passengers crawled back onto the truck's bed, something caught the eye of the Baroness. She pulled Destro back by his shoulder and whispered something. He turned around and saw the checker-shirted man standing in the hotel's parking lot.

As all emotion erased from his face, Destro tugged on his beard and walked towards the lot. "I shall return in a few moments."

Walking up to a mint-green 1976 Chrysler Centura, the weapon's manufacturer quickly sensed the tension firing from the eyes of the man standing at its rear, pulling a large duffle-bag through the car's shattered rear window. "What is the problem, Storm Shadow?"

The ninja had been ordered to tail Destro's group on its trip to Cusco, and the Lord of Castle Destro knew that he would not risk mission security unless he had a very strong reason.

"You were assaulted last night."

Surprised, but not disbelieving, Destro ordered, "Explain."

"Two Night Creepers approached the farm truck just after midnight. They attempted to attach a bomb to the vehicle." Storm Shadow pulled a small, very high-tech explosive out of his duffle-bag and handed it to Destro, who examined it.

"Damn. This is an electro-shock detonator. You could call it a 'Taser-Bomb.' It releases a heavy electrical charge that stuns anyone in a ten-foot radius."

"You know it very well."

Destro smiled. "I designed it." His smile vanished. "That means someone with access to Cobra weapons seeks to harm me. That is unacceptable."

"Could it be the Commander?"

Destro shook his head. "No. He would never say it out loud, but he needs me too much. No, it is most likely that scoundrel Zartan. Or possibly…" Destro turned around and looked back at Franco, who was talking to the Baroness, but obviously keeping an eye on Destro's conversation with the checker-shirted man. "Come, Storm Shadow, I may need your assistance."

As Destro came walking back to the truck from the parking lot, Franco became very squirmish. He stepped away from the Baroness and placed a hand on the door handle of the truck.

"Is something wrong, Senor Franco?" asked the Baroness, who was now smiling.

"Huh? Oh, no, no senorita. I just need to…check on Punta!" With that, Franco pulled open the door and launched the barking Pit-Bull from the driver's seat. "_Attaque!_" cried the Peruvian.

The dog raced directly for Destro, who showed no interest in the scampering dog. Storm Shadow, pulling himself into the air over Destro's shoulders, swung of his hand, flinging two shuriken at the beast, which stung themselves into the dog's left eye and mouth. As the white ninja landed on the wet concrete, he drew his _wakizashi_, or short sword, and ended the life of the yelping animal.

8.

Groaning along the dirt roads through the Andes Mountains, the old blue tour bus carried its load of cranky G.I. Joes. The team wasn't in as bad of shape as Destro was on his trip through the Andes, but they were hating the trip just as much. The mountainsides were steep, and as the Joes drove up to higher and higher altitudes, trees became fewer and farther between.

"Ugh. Dammit, Bazooka! Can't you keep this thing away from the bumps?" griped Crankcase.

"Shut up, man." snapped Alpine, "This road has more holes in it than a piece of Swiss. If you've got problems with his driving, maybe you should get in the driver's seat."

"Maybe I should! After all, driving vehicles is my job!"

"At ease, soldiers!" ordered Grunt. "Scarlett wouldn't put up with all your petty bickering and neither will I."

"I've been wondering, Grunt," started Alpine, as he leaned back in his seat and adjusted his brown cap, "this isn't much of a strike force you got here. How do you expect to take out a Cobra Temple with this cluster of Joes?"

"What's that supposed to mean, ya jerk?" growled Crankcase.

Pointing around, Alpine clarified. "Well look at us. We're a group of six highly specialized G.I. Joe enlisted men. There's an undercover agent in here, a computer expert and a vehicle driver. We're not packing a lot of heat, not even Bazooka."

"Um, Sergeant Grunt, sir?" beckoned Bazooka.

"In a second, Bazook'. Look, heavily-armed or not, we're still G.I. Joes, and we're better than the Delta Force, if you ask me. We train hard, and make damn sure our skills are sharp, no matter what our specialties are."

"Hey, Sarge." urged Bazooka again.

"Yeah, but get serious! Do you honestly think we can take down a Cobra base with just the six of us?"

"Dammit, Alpine! We don't have time for this! If you don't think you can handle this mission, then get off the bus and start walking back to Lima, because we have a job to do!"

"Sergeant Grunt, sir?" cried Bazooka while banging the dashboard.

"What's the damn problem, Bazooka?" barked the Joe infantryman as he turned around to look at the sweating driver.

Simply raising his arm and pointing, the driver said, "That."

Annoyed by Bazooka's simplicity, the current mission commander looked out the dirty front windshield…and felt all the color erase from his face. "Get us off the road! Now!" He dropped to his knees and grabbed the top of his head. "Everybody get down!"

Following the human nature of curiosity instead of obeying a direct order, every Joe on the bus save Bazooka looked out of the window as an RPG swirled through the windy air, then burst against the front left corner of the vehicle, causing a massive eruption that shattered the decades-old public transport and sent the passengers on board crashing to the floor.

Amidst the chaos, Grunt, who had been prepared for the blast, stood up and barked, "Everybody grab your gun and get off the bus!" As soon as he finished talking, bullets began chewing apart the bus, shattering glass and poking holes throughout the metallic body. The Joes began crawling to the door but Grunt turned around to see Bazooka lying next to the driver's seat knocked out in a pool of blood. Grunt picked up his teammate and dragged him out onto the steep hillside. Alpine grabbed Bazooka's feet and helped carry the injured Joe behind a rock twenty feet away from the bus.

"What the hell is going on?" asked the mountain trooper.

"Firefly is attacking us." replied Grunt as he loaded his M-16.

"Firefly?" Chuckles patted out his shirt's sleeve, which had caught fire. "What does he want?"

The bus then exploded, deafening every Joe hiding down the hillside. "My guess is he wants us dead." said Crankcase.

"I'm not in the mood for this crap." snarled Grunt. It was rare for the other Joes to see him so enraged. Pointing right, he ordered, "Alpine! Take Chuckles and work your way around back of Firefly." Looking left, he continued. "Crankcase, you and I are going to move up the hill and try to shoot at Firefly from a distance. Mainframe: stay here and watch over Bazooka. Shoot at anything that you don't like, got it?"

"Got it."

"Yo Joe!" cried Grunt.

"Yo Joe!" cried the rest of the team.

9.

Storm Shadow unsheathed his sword and the Iron Grenadiers slammed Franco against the closed door of his truck, which had now been moved to an alley five blocks away from the Plaza Hotel. Destro adjusted his metallic facemask—it felt good to have it back on again, oddly enough—and walked up to Franco.

"Senor Remeidez, I am going to ask you a few questions, and if you value your life, you will answer them."

The trembling Peruvian nodded.

"Who are you working for?"

"Muhammad-Rabah?" interjected the Baroness.

"No. No." Franco looked around, then leaned forward. "The Crimson Twins."

The Baroness started laughing, an act that deeply annoyed Destro.

"I was not meant to kill you! No! Only keep you away from Cusco as long as possible."

Destro grabbed him by the throat. "What are those scheming mutants up to? Why did they hire you?"

Choking, Franco weakly answered, "I…I do not know…Senor. They say…they need to...keep you away until…Temple is ready."

"Damn! That means they are working on the Matrix Cannon without me! How dare they take charge of my project!"

Baroness pushed Destro away from the struggling farmer. "You're being paranoid, Destro. But you may have a point. The twins are up to something, and we need to get to Cobra's new Incan Temple Outpost by this afternoon.. She traced her finger along Franco's chin, sending chills down his spine. "Do you think you could do that, darling?"

The humble farmer nodded passionately, "Ci, ci, I know where to go!" He turned around, opened the door to his truck and jumped inside. "Come with me!"

Destro stared at the Baroness. "Are you mad? Do you honestly want to ride in his decrepit vehicle again? And why would you want to trust him?"

The Baroness petted her lover's cheek with her hand. "Do you know of any other way to get to the temple without raising suspicion? Relax, now we can get the matrix Cannon back with being stopped again."

The Lord of Castle Destro smiled at the amazing woman before him. She truly was brilliant.

A beeping sound started coming from Destro's pocket. Reaching down, Destro pulled out his pager and clicked the button, then read the message. The Baroness leaned over to him.

"Firefly?"

"Yes. He's engaged the Joes." Dropping his pager back in his pocket, Destro wrapped his arms around his lover. "And you said we could never trust him again."

Baroness frowned. "That depends on whether he beats them or not."

10.

Scrambling along the steep, rocky surface of the mountainside, Alpine felt completely at home. In no time at all, he had made fifty yards distance from the boulders and reached a good position to begin a quick ascent up. Looking behind him, he saw Chuckles, still fifteen yards behind him and gasping for air.

"C'mon, slowpoke. If you're having trouble breathing at this elevation, you won't last ten minutes at Machu Picchu."

Trying his hardest to suppress a cough, Chuckles hunched over as he reached Alpine's position. "S-sorry, man. Guess I'm too used…to working at sea-level."

"Well, take a few steady breaths and get ready for the air to get thinner, 'cause we're goin' up!" Alpine leaned back and fired his grappling gun, which launched a hook up into a cluster of rocks up along the roadway. Alpine pulled back on the cable until the hook snagged. The Joe Mountain Trooper smiled and said, "Let's go, before Firefly takes notice of my perfect work."

Less than a second later, two long black ropes came spouting out over the cliff's edge, slapping the mountainside on either side of the two Joes.

"What the hell is going on?" panicked Chuckles.

"Don't ask." replied Alpine, frantically searching for his pistol.

At the edge, two Rock-Vipers, Cobra's version of a Mountain Trooper, jumped out, gliding down the ropes with all of their high-tech gear. The light and dark-brown uniformed soldiers were big, carried heavy weapons and wore light armor, making them durable fighters, on or off of the mountainside.

Alpine drew his pistol, but couldn't respond in time; after the Vipers slid down, they sandwiched him with their strength. Chuckles, still gasping for breath, looked meagerly at the two monsters, and succumbed to their brute force with little resistance.

11.

Grunt and Crankcase crested the cleft of the cliffside and walked along the curving dirt road. As they rounded the corner near the bus, they dropped down and crawled into position behind some bushes about ninety yards from the burning wreckage of the old blue vehicle.

"So where did Firefly go?" asked Crankcase. Grunt just frowned and moved in a crouching position around the bushes. After getting ten yards closer to the bus, Grunt raised his arm to wave Crankcase on…when rapid assault-rifle fire began spraying his position and forced the Joe infantryman to the ground. Thankfully, the bullets sailed over him.

"Grunt, you okay?" called Crankcase.

"Yeah. Took one in the arm, but it's just a scrape. He was shooting over me, which means he doesn't have the high-ground."

"He could be tricking us."

"Dude, he's a Cobra." Grunt looked back to the wreckage. "Fifty bucks he's at the bus."

"No bet."

"I can't move, but I don't think he's seen you yet. Move up the hill in an arcing motion, then come back down towards the bus." The Joes jumped as sounds of gunfire started echoing off of the mountainside. "Damn! He's attacking Mainframe! Go!"

Crankcase leapt up and charged over the hillside. Grunt swung his M-16 in front of him, and despite the danger, sat up and started shooting at the bus. The fire re-emanating from the front of the bus quickly stopped and a silhouette moved from behind the wreckage's flames.

"There you are, you son-of-a-!" Grunt sat up and clicked his assault rifle into rapid-fire. The few remaining shots he had left rocketed out at the dark assailant. As soon as his clip emptied, he pulled it off and slapped another back on, then he poured out the load from that clip. Catching his breath, the infantryman pulled off the newly-emptied clip and slapped on a third one. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Crankcase cautiously sliding down the mountainside, but apparently unable to see any targets.

"Geeze, man! You get him?" asked the Joe vehicle driver.

"I…I don't know. You see anyone over there?"

Crankcase was surprised to hear such a question. "No. I was comin' down when I heard you open up."

Grunt cursed to himself then slowly walked over to the wreckage of the bus. There wasn't much fire left, and the roof had totally collapsed in on itself. Crankcase walked around the left side of the bus, and Grunt took the right. They crept around the corners…and saw each other. Whoever had been there was gone.

Cursing aloud, Grunt dropped to one knee and lost himself in thought for a few moments. _How could this get any worse?_

"Oh no!" cried Crankcase. Grunt looked up to see his teammate peering over the cliff's edge. Grunt looked over as well, and quickly saw the two boulders that the Joes had initially used for cover after the wreck—no one was there.

"Where the hell are Mainframe and Bazooka?" barked Grunt.

"How am I supposed to know?" replied Crankcase.

"I can assure you that they are perfectly safe and sound." came a gravelly, yet sinister voice from behind Grunt. The two Joes turned around to see:

"Firefly!" growled the temporary mission leader. The gray-camouflaged saboteur stood five yards from the Joes, holding a sub-machine-gun pointed at the men, with two Rock-Vipers standing at his flanks.

"Drop your weapons, or I'll shoot them out of your hands." Grunt and Crankcase complied. "Now, get around to the other side of the bus."

As the Joes walked around, they watched two other Rock-Vipers drag Alpine and Chuckles' unconscious bodies next to Mainframe and Bazooka's unconscious bodies. Feelings of humility were eating Grunt alive. How could he have screwed this mission up so badly?

"Enjoying my collection, Grunt? These aren't exactly 'rare,' but I'm still an avid collector."

"Cut the crap, Firefly. What do you want?"

Cobra's saboteur smiled. "I don't want anything from you, Army freak. This is all business. Don't hold it against me."

With that, Grunt felt a blunt pain to the back of his head, and didn't re-awaken for several hours.


	7. 8,000 Feet

**Chapter 7**

**8,000 Feet**

Scarlett awoke to what had become a rather common site in the last week: Snake Eyes standing alone, looking out of a window. He was in his black uniform, wearing his hood and visor since he had left his rubber mask on the tour bus; but he was still amazingly handsome to her.

Although she loved him, feelings of sorrow began to overcome her. His deep inner pains were self-destructive, and he would not let anyone relieve the pain for him. He had always considered his struggle with Storm Shadow to be a very personal matter. He had never asked for any help when fighting the white ninja. Whether he approved of Scarlett's assistance or not was a shaky question. Snake Eyes would not allow himself to grow angry with her, but there was also a slim chance that he wanted her help.

Snake Eyes' enthusiastic movement towards her snapped Scarlett out of her deep thought; she raised her hand to him, which he grabbed and held tightly. She weakly smiled and felt a tear slide down her cheek. "It's good to see you, Snake Eyes. How are we doing?"

Her silent lover shook his head.

"That good, huh?" She looked across the room, and the slight joy she felt from being with Snake Eyes began to disappear. It was a small, white military hospital room, officially room 223 of the Hospital Militar located in Lima. Snake Eyes had brought her here after the pain she was feeling in the tour bus had knocked her out. There was nowhere else that Snake Eyes could have brought her, considering that she doubted the Joe commando had never been to a civilian hospital before. There weren't many pleasantries in this hospital, but for the moment, the two Joes had the six-man room to themselves, and Scarlett was truly thankful for that fact.

Looking down, she examined her body and saw her left leg all wrapped up. "Damn. Doesn't look like I'm going anywhere." The courtesy of the Peruvian government was greatly appreciated. It was a saving grace that the Joes had been allowed entry into the county's military hospital and surgery was performed on Scarlett's wounded leg. Scarlett wasn't worried about compensation for the hospital—that would be covered by U.S. taxpayers—what bothered her were Hawk feelings about her decision.

As if he was reading her mind, Snake Eyes held up a piece of paper upon which he had written, "Call Hawk."

Slowly nodding her head, Scarlett pulled back her arm. "Hand me the phone."

1.

Brigadier General Clayton Abernathy walked into his office really mad. The meeting he had just come from was a bloodbath. Pentagon officials were more determined than ever to cut funding for the G.I. Joe operation. They needed to find money to pay for the struggle in Iraq somehow, and it took three hours for Hawk to convince them not to take it from the Joe team.

The G.I. Joe team leader slumped into his chair, and draped his arms over its sides. He was tired, and in less than five minutes, he was going down to the gym and burn off all of the stress that he was feeling.

Better yet, there _was_ that rum that he _confiscated_ from Shipwreck three months ago and _forgot_ to dispose of.

He slid open the bottom drawer of his desk, and sure enough, sitting right at the back, was the dark brown bottle. Sniffing, the General rubbed his nose, looked at his door, then reached down…

The intercom on his desk beeped, causing Hawk to jump almost a foot out of his chair. Dial-Tone's voice came through the com, and it was loud and desperate.

"General Hawk! Scarlett's on the phone!"

All thoughts of intoxication vanished from his mind. Hawk picked up a phone immediately. "Put it on line two, Dial-Tone." Line two's light turned on, and the General slammed it. "Scarlett! Where are you?"

After a moment of nervous confusion, She answered, "Um, we are at Lima, Peru's Hospital Militar. I came here for surger**y."**

As any good commander would, instead of getting angry, General Abernathy asked, "Are you okay?"

"Yes. I'll be all right."

Now was the time to get serious. "Do you know what has happened to your unit?" Hawk didn't have to be there to know that her face went pale.

"N-no I don't."

Fighting the Pentagon bureaucracy already had the General ready to spit flames, and a high-ranking Joe officer not keeping tabs on her mission was about to set the field ablaze. "Four hours ago we received a brief cry for help from Mainframe. He was located about fifty miles west of Ayacucho, fighting for his life while hanging from a cliffside. Did you know _that_?"

"Oh my god! I…I didn't know!"

"He managed to activate a transmitter built into his computer and send us a message. _Your_ unit was ambushed by Firefly, and Bazooka was seriously injured. But before he could tell us any more, Mainframe came under heavy assault, and the communication broke." Hawk's hand nearly pounded a hole in his desk. "I didn't receive word of your check-in at the Hospital Militar until a half-hour _after _I received Mainframe's call for help! I appreciate your need for hospital care, Scarlett, but you need to double-check your understanding of proper procedure! This wasn't Grunt's mission, this was yours." The General turned around and looked at the list of active Joes on the wall. "I've been allowing you to take charge of extra Joes since this has proven to be a fairly complex mission, but I didn't expect you _and Snake Eyes_ to send them into a red-hot danger zone without reinforcements or a more experienced field commander."

"Hawk, please, let me--."

"There's nothing to explain, Scarlett." The General paused to focus himself. "Duke is already on his way to Cusco with a heavy strike team and should be there early tomorrow morning. Doc is on his way to Lima to come pick you up." Hawk sighed. "Both you and Snake Eyes are immediately pulled off of active duty, and I expect you to stay where you are until Doc brings you home for an inquiry."

The sounds of her struggle to suppress crying broke the General's rage. "Y-yes, sir."

With a much more somber tone, General Abernathy said, "I'll see you when you get home."

After sniffling, Scarlett replied, "Yes, sir."

The Brigadier General hung up his phone and slowly slumped back in his chair. Looking down to his open desk drawer, he could still see the bottle of rum. "Damn this job." He grabbed the bottle and ignored all phone calls for the next hour.

2.

As her hand shook, Scarlett attempted to hang the phone up, but missed the hook. The phone dropped to the floor, and Snake Eyes picked it up, then hung it for her.

"I…I guess you could hear everything." Snake Eyes nodded, then petted her hair. "I shouldn't have left the team, but what else could I do? Destro is on the run, and I can barely walk! Maybe, maybe I should have just let Chuckles bring me here, then had you go with them." Scarlett's eyes began racing. "But no! Then you might have been captured, and then where would that have left us?"

Snake Eyes placed his hand over her mouth, and the index finger of his other hand across his own mouth.

"I'm…I'm sorry, Snake. I've just never failed this badly before." Scarlett turned her face away and closed her eyes. Snake Eyes walked over to the window, and looked out at the darkening evening sky.

For Snake Eyes, sometimes the only way to solve a problem was by making more of them. Failure was not an option, even if it _was_ against the rules.

3.

Franco's mangled old farm pick-up truck rolled up to a garage sitting on the outskirts of the city of Cusco. The rotted wood of the old building looked as old as the truck, but buried in the thick plant-life that surrounded it, the garage made a fantastic place to hide supplies and/or people.

"Why are we stopping here?" asked the Baroness through the handkerchief that she held over her face. The truck reeked so badly of dog that she had to cover herself. She had suffered the horrendously long trip to Cusco sitting in the pickup between Destro and Franco, coughing down dog odor and cursing the existence of that ogre mutt "Punto."

Franco pulled the shift to "Park" and humbly smiled. "This is where I bring my goods to the city." His grin quickly drooped away. "Now it is where Cobra stores their weapons."

"So why do we have to stop here?" re-emphasized the Baroness.

Destro opened the truck door. "Because there is no road from here to the Cobra Temple. The rest of our journey will be by air."

"Air?" Baroness slid out of the truck, lost in nerve-wracked thought. "What sort of aircraft could be stored in a rickety old shed?"

Franco walked over to the garage, unhooked the lock and slid the front door open. As soon as the gray sunlight poured into the structure, the Baroness placed her left hand across her forehead and griped. "No, no, no. I swore never to get back onto one of those things again."

Destro walked into the stank garage and grabbed the edge of a Covert Light Aerial Weapon, or C.L.A.W. for short. The C.L.A.W. was a winged jet-pack developed by M.A.R.S. back in the early '80's and sold in droves to Cobra. The wings were slapped with turbojet engines, a 7.6mm machine-gun and a couple small non-guided missiles. As with any jet-pack, you couldn't get far with them, but you could definitely stir up a lot of trouble before you had to come down.

"Well, my dear Baroness, if you'd rather walk, I'll keep some tea hot for you. Myself, I'm going to use one of these C.L.A.W.s to shoot up the mountainside."

Frowning, the Queen of Cobra crossed her arms. "Fine. You can get mine ready, though."

Destro smiled. "I wouldn't have it any other way."

4.

Grunt slowly opened his eyes and raised his arm to his forehead. He had a helluva headache, and his arm hurt where he was shot, but for the most part he was okay. Looking around, he could see that he was in a dark room, laying on a small bed that smelled and felt pretty clean. Sitting up, he nearly hit his sensitive head on the bunk directly above him, and could feel that his bed's blanket was brand new. What was with this place? Reaching down, he could feel that the steel floor was dust-free and smooth as could be. There was no way that he was in a prison, but it didn't feel like a hospital.

"Hey, Grunt, that you?"

"Chuckles? You okay?"

"Yeah, more or less."

Grunt understood that to mean his friend was in a lot of pain. "Any idea where we are?"

"Fifty-to-one that we're in a Cobra base. Brand new one, too."

"Who's talking?" groaned a voice across from Grunt and below Chuckles.

"Crankcase! Talk to me, buddy, it's Grunt and Chuckles."

"We're in prison, aren't we? Damn! I hate getting captured. That piece of crap Firefly. Next time I see him I'm tearing his freakin' head off."

"Stay cool, Crankcase," warned Grunt. "We all want Firefly, but we're taking him down as a team, got it?"

"Yeah, that's cool. Where's the other guys?"

"As far as I can tell this is just a four-man cell." said Chuckles. "Who's that on the bunk above you, Grunt?"

"Let's see." Grunt stood up and shook the arm of the man sleeping on the bunk. "Hey, wake up! It's Grunt. I can't see you, so tell me who you are."

"Wh-what? Leave me alone, man, I'm getting some beauty-sleep."

"It's Alpine." said Chuckles and Crankcase in unison.

Grunt walked towards the cell's bars. The room on the other side of them was small, and only had a very dim light on its ceiling. "But if we're all here, where did Mainframe and Bazooka go?"

The silence became as creepy as the light.

5.

It had been a long time since Snake Eyes had flown into a potential war zone hanging out the sides of a Huey. He was the third member to hook up with the G.I. Joe operation during its creation in the 1980's, and G.I. Joe didn't fly any Huey's or even Black Hawks. The elite operation was all about experimental vehicles and weapons. Sure, some were merely pumped-up standard-use jeeps and helicopters, but the point is you could pick out a Dragonfly from a squadron of Cobra helicopters; it had its own, shall we say, "quirks."

As the Peruvian Army's Huey lowered to the southern side of Machu Picchu, the G.I. Joe commando waved his thanks to the pilot, dropped his thirty-foot cable, jumped out and slid down the line to the green, grassy ground. The helicopter, amidst its tornado of man-made winds, pulled back up the cable, rose into the air and drifted away, floating back through the air at a thirty-degree vertical tilt and made a horizontal turn northwest, heading back to the Hospital Militar in Peru.

As Snake Eyes stood up from his short fall, he felt a small bite of shame. It took a great deal of truth-stretching to get Peru's Army to believe that the U.S. Army had dire need for one of its helicopters, and that Snake Eyes had full access to whatever they offered. Still, the one idea that pushed him along was the fact that he knew where the Cobra base was, and Duke didn't. Or at least he wouldn't, not for another four hours. Mainframe didn't tell Hawk that tidbit of info, and with Scarlett asleep in the hospital, and Snake Eyes AWOL…well, Duke would be stuck turning over rocks until Scarlett told him what Alpine had told her.

Snake Eyes' drop point had been nearly a quarter-mile southeast of Machu Picchu, along the Inca Trail. Peru's government hadn't allowed helicopter flights above Machu Picchu since the '70's, fearing damage to the ruins. So, Snake Eyes agreed to a short walk.

Approaching the hotel near the upper end of the Inca Trail, the Joe commando immediately noticed something was wrong—very wrong. Machu Picchu was a tourist site, and there was not a single person to be seen. Granted, it was two o'clock in the morning, but even then there are signs of people; the hotel showed no signs of life whatsoever.

Snake Eyes continued the ascent past the hotel until he reached the tourist entrance, which happened to lie next to train tracks. Again, no signs of life, and, even stranger, the entrance doors were broken open. All that stood ahead was a breathtaking view of evening mist wrapping the crumbled ruins that sat atop the stepped slope before the silent ninja. Alpine said that Cobra had a secret operation in this area, an idea that seemed too impossible to even stomach, but now, now it didn't matter—Snake Eyes had explore every possibility, and fast.

Unsheathing his katana, Snake Eyes slowly ascended the broad green steps of the agricultural terraces up towards the City Gate of Machu Picchu, himself nearly invisible if not for the flickering of moonlight from his sword's blade.

6.

Destro grasped the control sticks with nervous confidence as he approached the tall green mountain standing before him. C.L.A.W.s were not meant to be used at eight-thousand-feet. The thin air was tough on their jet engines, and the wings had trouble gaining lift. Still, the rush of air was exhilarating, and the view! Flying the C.L.A.W.s at sunrise was a brilliant idea. Destro had seen inspirations for over a dozen new paintings today.

Looking down, about five-hundred feet below, the weapons manufacturer could see a trail twisting and turning up the mountainside and ending at a large metal structure built into the side of the mountain. A Cobra Stun three-wheeled vehicle raced its way along the trail and stopped at the metal wall.

Activating his communicator, Destro called out to the Baroness and his two Iron Grenadiers. "I believe we are looking for that destination about five-hundred feet below us. Be careful on your descents!"

Spiraling down, the four C.L.A.W.s headed for the ground, and in less than five minutes, the group had completely landed, although the Baroness had a bit of a stumble. Destro caught her before she collapsed flat on her face beneath her jet-pack.

"It appears I owe you a favor, mighty Destro." said the Baroness as she unhooked the C.L.A.W. and adjusted her glasses.

Destro smiled behind his mask and stroked her hair. "Then let me gaze upon your beauty, and relish the feel of the locks of your hair."

The Stun slowly rolled up to the group of landed C.L.A.W.s, aiming its massive left cannons at the group. Its guns were so huge that they took two extra gunners to operate them. The Stun's commander called down from the seat high up in the center of the massive trike.

"I am Motor-Viper MV-42, commander of Stun unit ST-21. You kinda look like Destro, but I'm supposed to make sure, ya know? What's the code?"

Destro shook his head. Indeed, the troops were getting stupider. Placing his left hand on his right forearm, Destro spoke the Cobra code, "Greed, Ambition and Ruthlessness."

Motor-Viper MV-42 nodded his head. "Dude, you got it. But ya know, I'm not supposed to let you into the Cobra Incan Temple Outpost, I'm really sorry. "

Destro pulled out four wads of American cash and threw them at each of the Motor-Vipers sitting on the Stun—the commander, the gunners and the tail gunner.

The commander thumbed the money, then shrugged his shoulders.

"Welcome to the Cobra Incan Temple, Lord Destro!"

7.

The City Gate had just what Snake Eyes didn't want to see: more steps. They were a fraction of the size of the Terraces, but they were still steps. The Gate itself had no sort of defense, and Snake Eyes did not expect any kid of modern kind of resistance built into the ruins.

A short distance from the Gate stood a labyrinth of shattered buildings, constructed for the wealthy hundreds of years ago. As Snake Eyes stealthily moved with his back against the granite walls, watching the white, snake-like mist, he could feel another presence; and that presence could feel him.

Forsaking all resistance, the black ninja stepped away from the walls and out into the Main Square, pointing his katana towards the grassy ground. It was not long before he received the answer he was waiting for.

"Snake Eyes!" called a voice, hidden in the mist, "I do not wish to fight you! Where is my brother? Let me speak to my brother this day!"

Snake Eyes turned around, and looked back towards the cloud-wrapped ruins of Machu Picchu. The tall, black mountain of Huayana Picchu stood behind him, nearly devouring him in its shadow. After almost two minutes of silence, he reached up with his left hand and pulled off his facemask. Holding the polymer-fabric high in the air, he let the wind catch it, and carry it off deep into the burrows of Urabamba Gorge.

Merely five meters in front of him, Snake Eyes watched as a gust of wind pushed a thread of mist apart, and left Storm Shadow standing in its place. He was again in his Cobra ninja uniform, with a bandage still on his shoulder. But there could be no doubt about it. He looked…tired?

"My brother, my blood. I have missed you." Storm Shadow hung his head low. "Every time we fight I feel as though I have cut apart a piece of myself. That is why we must finish this, so that I can go on with my life, or end it now. This constant struggle is killing both of us. I can feel it, my brother." Storm Shadow slowly unsheathed his katana, and began a slow walk forward. "Your little sensei Scarlett isn't here to save you this time. My hope for an end to our duels may come at last."

8.

"Cobra Commander! Show yourself!" roared Destro as he stormed into the Incan Temple's entrance. Two Cobra Troopers trotted up to the weapons manufacturer and attempted to block his tirade into the sub-surface structure, but were promptly knocked flat on their backs. The Baroness' shoes racketed on the metallic floor as the two Iron Grenadiers looked around the dark chamber for any other resistance.

"Now, now, noble Destro, is that any way for a Lord to act?"

Destro looked up to see the hooded figure walk to the top of a staircase. The staircase connected the ground floor to a walkway that encircled the room. The walkway was fenced by a wooden railing. Multiple rooms surrounded the entrance area on both levels.

"Damn you, Cobra Commander! Why did you come here and take the Matrix Cannon? The Matrix Cannon was my project, not yours."

"Now, now, Destro. Don't get feisty."

"You were using Crimson Guard assets, after all."

Destro didn't even have to look up. He knew who he had just heard. Still, he needed to see where they were. On the right sight of the room, behind the railing, stood Tomax, wearing his Cobra uniform; across the room from him stood Xamot. Eighty-feet away from each other and they could still complete each others comments. Annoying as hell.

"Why did you bastards try to stun us?" yelled the Baroness.

"Us?" asked Xamot, with a look of surprise.

"Whatever do you mean?" asked Tomax. He played with the red sash on his blue and silver uniform.

"You know damn well what I mean, you twin twit." snarled Baroness. "You two have been doing everything you can to keep us from getting here since we left Tunis, and I want to know why!"

"Baroness, Baroness, Baroness! How can you say such a thing?" said Tomax as he farced a show of concern.

"Please don't blame us for your recent bought of bad luck." said Xamot.

"Just don't ever get near me with a live chicken, you idiots…"

Destro sighed. He held up the bag that he had carried on the C.L.A.W. "Commander, I am not here to fight with your minions. Just let me work on the Matrix Cannon. I am prepared to finish it if given the proper facilities."

Cobra Commander spread his arms and smiled. "That is all you needed to say. I have spent a week preparing the mount for the Matrix Cannon. This fortress contains a work station where you will be able to complete the weapon, then bring it to the mount where we will test it."

Destro felt his blood begin to boil. "Cobra Commander, we will test this weapon at my discretion. Once again, you assume that it is under your control."

The Commander brushed his suit with his hands while concealing a smile beneath his long, blue hood. "Of course, of course, dear Destro. Please, come with me to your research lab and let's get to work on _your_ Matrix Cannon. We have a lot of work to do before we reveal its power to the world!"

After the Commander turned around and left the room, the Baroness walked up to Destro and whispered in his ear. "We can't trust him. We should take the Matrix Cannon and leave."

Holding his fists against his chest, Destro whispered back to his lover. "You can never trust Cobra Commander. But I have to stay and use his laboratory. Come! You shall be my eyes, protecting me from his evil rodents like the Crimson Twins."

"They won't come within a hundred meters of your spectacular weapon, my love." After a quick embrace, the pair walked further into the Temple, and into further uneasiness.

9.

In the Main Square, there was plenty of room for movement. The two ninjas ran, occasionally striking each others' blades and performing fast, jumping kicks. The ground was soft and moist, so sliding was easy to do as well. Each one carried an arsenal of weapons, but their war was not about quick slaughter; it had grown more into a game now. They were two brothers, fighting to see who was best.

Storm Shadow skid to a stop by the lone tree in the Main Square, and Snake Eyes swung at him, nearly hitting the tree. The white ninja swung up, cutting Snake Eyes' right arm, which barely saved itself from being hacked off. Swinging his katana around, the black ninja attempted to hit Storm Shadow's mid section, but the white one had enough strength to bring his katana back down in time for a devastatingly hard hit that nearly sent the sword flying from Snake Eyes' hand. Now open, the Joe commando received a hard kick to his mid section, followed by a swipe along his right side.

Snake Eyes kicked back, but Storm Shadow performed a deep bend backwards, then flipped forward again, dodging the kick. Responding with a series of intense sword-strikes, the white ninja knocked the Joe commando back into a granite stone wall. Unwilling to be on the receiving end this time, Snake Eyes, leapt out, performing a stab and kick maneuver that managed to catch Storm Shadow completely off guard and crack his right rib. Flipping away, the white ninja retreated into the fog.

Snake Eyes checked his injuries, and felt blood trickling down his right side. Storm Shadow had re-awoken a painful wound.

"Come to me, brother!" called Storm Shadow, from somewhere on the western side of the ruins. "Our battle is far from finished!"

Looking down at his wound and sighing, Snake Eyes re-affirmed his grip on his sword and walked over to the entrance to room holding the _Intihuatana_ Stone, a large, cubical, granite block that was sacred to the Incans.

It did not take long for Snake Eyes to find Storm Shadow. He stood atop the _Intihuatana_ Stone with his mask removed as well.

"Do not take my retreats for cowardice, my brother. I merely enjoy having the high ground."

Snake Eyes looked to the ground, picked up a rock and threw it at the white ninja.

Swatting away the chunk of granite, the ninja roared, "What are you doing? Have you no honor? Am I so frightening that—ow!" Lost in his tirade, Storm Shadow did not see Snake Eyes throw the second stone.

But he did see the third.

And fourth.

And fifth.

"Is this your idea of combat?" growled Storm Shadow, as he quickly grabbed three shuriken and threw them back at Snake Eyes. After deflecting the stars, the Joe looked up to see Storm Shadow sailing high in the air with his katana raised high and the moon at his back. With a graceful landing and swipe of his sword, the white ninja overwhelmed Snake Eyes, who barely kept his stance as he painfully blocked the assault.

Snake Eyes pushed back the white ninja but was swiftly kicked and then cut across the mid-section. He dropped to his knees and looked up to Storm Shadow, who was panting with energy.

The white ninja sheathed his blade and unwrapped the cloth from around his right forearm. He held it out and showed it to Snake Eyes. Tattooed to his arm were six thick red lines, three complete, three parted in the middle, in a pattern of complete, parted, complete, parted, complete, parted. Snake Eyes placed his katana on the ground and pulled back the sleeve of his uniform, revealing the same crimson tattoo.

"This is the symbol of the Arashikage Clan, and only ninja that are worthy may carry it. My brother, you were given this symbol when you were chosen worthy enough to wear it. Now, now I say that you are not worthy. I have beaten you three times. You have no more value as a ninja. Or an Arashikage." Storm Shadow began re-wrapping his arm. "I grow weary of our fighting, brother. It is time to end this. Goodbye, Snake Eyes!"

As Snake Eyes sat on his knees with his head hung low, Storm Shadow raised his arm high, paused for a moment, then swung. Snake Eyes reached up with both hands and slapped his palms together, catching the blade in its downward swing.

Smiling, Storm Shadow pulled his sword back. "Only an Arashikage can perform such an act. I merely wanted to see if you could still do it. But it is a parlor trick for us, dear brother. Now, receive your fate!"

Storm Shadow swung his arm across his breast, then swung back. Snake Eyes ducked, and the blade grazed his ear. Jumping up, the Joe commando, with empty hands, began pummeling the white ninja with hard jabs and kicks. When Storm Shadow managed to retaliate with a swing of his katana, Snake Eyes would dodge or jump out of its way. He was totally untouchable, and the white ninja was completely overwhelmed. Unable to take anymore, Storm Shadow jumped away, running from the chamber of the _Intihuatana_ Stone and back to the Main Square, disappearing into the mist.

Snake Eyes painfully held on to his stomach, walked over to his katana and picked it up. Wincing in pain with every step, he followed his fellow ninja out to the Main Square.

10.

A flip was switched on, flooding the little four-man cell with a bulb's worth of yellow seventy-five-watt light. Grunt woke up and listened to the scuffling foot-steps approaching the bars. Looking up, he could see a very burly Cobra Trooper walking towards the cell. He was in a standard blue uniform, blue helmet and black facemask, but carrying a tray of food.

Grunt sat up, and saw Chuckles sit up on the bed across from him.

"Sit down, Joes." The Trooper set down the food and pulled out a pistol. "If you want any of this food you'll stay on the beds." He then pulled out some keys and worked the lock, then slid the door open.

"Where are our friends?" asked Chuckles.

"I don't care. Just eat your slop." After kicking the tray in, the Cobra Trooper slammed the door shut and locked the cell, then began walking away.

"Can ya at least leave the light on?" asked Crankcase.

"Okay, ya little babies, I'll leave the light on for ya." As he burst out laughing, he walked through a door across the hall and slammed it shut, leaving the Joes alone with their little dinner and seventy-five-watts worth of light.

"Well, at least we got company." said Crankcase.

"That guy's big." said Chuckles.

"That guy's our way out of here." Grunt's face was rock-hard in thought.

Chuckles and Crankcase looked over. "Are you serious?" asked Crankcase.

Nodding, Grunt said, "But it'll take all of us to do it." With that, he punched the bottom of the bunk above him.

"Huh? What?" asked the Mountain Trooper as he woke up.

11.

The mist in the Main Square was thinning. Whatever was going to happen, at least Storm Shadow had less hiding space.

But that was no longer his concern; nor was fighting fair.

A black wooden arrow ripped into Snake Eyes' body, then shot out his back and poked into the ground. The Joe commando silently screamed in pain and grabbed the fountain of blood pouring from his shoulder. Mere seconds later, another quiet whistle flew through the air, then stabbed Snake Eyes in his right leg, this time lodging into his thigh bone. Again on his knees, Snake Eyes called upon every last ounce of strength that he had to rise up off the soft grass.

Snapping the arrow apart, the black ninja looked around the Machu Picchu ruins for the best firing position, the one place that Storm Shadow was sure to be.

Bingo.

Despite his weakened state, Snake Eyes charged full speed towards a high-walled area on the northeast side called the "Houses of Factories." Spearing the mist, another arrow flew at him, but this time he was ready for it, and stepped left, dodging it. After slowly walking up a flight of stairs, Snake Eyes paused. After flexing his grip on his katana, he entered a broken, empty room, and found Storm Shadow resting high on the wall's ledge, aiming his bow at his brother.

"No one can save you now, Snake Eyes." With that, another arrow was launched, but in a flash, the arrow was deflected. Storm Shadow quickly loaded another one, and fired again. In a replay of the first move, the second arrow was knocked away as well. In frustration, the white ninja growled and threw the bow at Snake Eyes, then drew his katana and leapt down from the wall.

As Storm Shadow's feet landed on the ground they skid across the granite stone, then sprinted forward, aiming straight for Snake Eyes. The black ninja blocked the first two lightning fast strikes, then ducked down and pushed back, refusing to be driven back out of the room. Storm Shadow matched the duck and swung a broad swipe that Snake Eyes barely dodged. Taking the offensive, the Joe commando stabbed back, and as the white ninja turned to dodge it, he was kicked hard in his ribs by Snake Eyes' left foot.

Pulling back, Storm Shadow held his sword up in defense, feeling the pain of his broken ribs biting every nerve in his body. Without giving him a second to recover, Snake Eyes charged, performing a horizontal swipe that Storm Shadow easily blocked, but followed it with a sweeping kick, forcing the white ninja to jump. As the Cobra landed, Snake Eyes tossed his sword into his other hand and punched his foe in the ribs.

The damage went critical, and the pain erupted, breaking Storm Shadow's amazing ability to control his cries of anguish. The white ninja gave a rare roar of agony, then grabbed his side and quickly back-stepped away from his opponent. Snake Eyes made a hard chop at Storm Shadow's hands, and sent the white ninja's katana sailing through the air until it hit the far wall.

Snake Eyes ran over to the fallen sword and picked it up. He then stood as straight as he could, holding both katana at his sides, and stared deeply at his ninja brother. Storm Shadow crouched back into the corner and held his wakizashi up in defense.

"I have underestimated you, my brother. Forgive me." The white ninja winced in pain. "You…you have won, today. I am not worthy of challenging you again until I retrieve my katana." Storm Shadow stared at the Joe commando with sad eyes. "The strength of the Arashikage runs in your blood. But rest assured, it is my duty in life to drain that blood from your veins, Snake Eyes of the G.I. Joe Team."

Vibrating in agony, Storm Shadow pushed himself up from the ground and ran towards the western wall. He jumped up and grabbed the ruined edge, then swung his body up. He was unable to hold back a bark of pain as he did so. As he dropped over the wall, Snake Eyes Ran out of the room and down the steps back to the Main Square.

The white mist was thicker now, and nothing could be seen, especially a ninja in a white _shinobi shozoku_.

After walking to the Sacred Stone on the northern end of the Main Square, Snake Eyes sheathed his katana, and began limping back south towards the City Gate.

The battle was over.


	8. Countdown

**Chapter 8**

**Countdown**

The massive Cobra Stun ST-21 rolled down the dirt road, crushing twigs and rocks with its enormous wheels as the boat-shaped trike explored the Andes Mountainsides. It had been a slow day, as it had always been. Locals had avoided the area near Hyuana Picchu since Cobra had invaded last year, and the sight they feared the most was that of an approaching Stun.

The Stun was a three-wheeled vehicle, but about the size of a Hummer. It's boat-bow-shaped front-end could split into halves that spread apart from central side axes, giving the trike almost one-hundred-and-eighty-degrees of horizontal fire. The rotational ability of the guns gave them nearly ninety-degrees of vertical firing range as well. Built with two six-foot long twin cannons, the Stun is one of the few high-speed artillery vehicles in existence. Ultimately, since the Stun was such a highly experimental device, Cobra used very few of them; but the ones in use were very fast, and very powerful devices.

"Looks like there's another storm comin' in." said Motor Viper MV-35, sitting in the port gun pit.

"Crap. Why did I have to pick a vehicle that didn't have a roof?"

"Shut-up, 67." ordered the commander to the right gun pit. "You picked the Stun 'cause they're fast and they're cool lookin'."

"Yeah, but we're missin' one of our flags! Nobody has a Stun without its flags!"

The commander growled, wishing that he had something to throw at his insubordinate gunner. "Either you shut up, or I'll shut you up, got it? Let's just increase our pace a little bit, then we can get back to the temple before the storm hits."

"We still need to check the ruins."

"Yeah, yeah. We'll get up there, don't get antsy."

Pressing the accelerator, Motor-Viper Commander-42 frowned. Nothing was worse than a bunch of cranky troops. At lease MV-51, who sat behind the commander at the 9mm gun station kept quiet most of the time. Of course, he was usually just really creepy.

"You gonna complain about anything, 51?" asked the commander.

"Huh? No, I just wanna go home. I hate bein' wet."

"I agree with you there, bro'."

A distant flash of lightning started a whole new round of griping from the Motor-Vipers.

1.

Solitude was a deadlier weapon to Scarlett than any tool in the Cobra arsenal; but she had spent the last ten hours alone in a foreign military hospital, assigned to a room built for six. With nothing to do but think about the mistakes of the last week, emotional agony was devouring what little sanity she had left.

Her lover, the man that provided the foundation to her happiness in this world, had gone, leaving her only a short note. Deep down, she knew something like this would happen. He was a hero who was hungry for justice. If Snake Eyes knew about a wrong in the world, he would do anything to correct it. Now, he knew where Cobra was, and if he stayed in the hospital to accept his punishment…well that only gave Cobra more power. No, Snake Eyes had to leave—but…he was the only person on Earth that Scarlett could confide in.

The hospital room's door opened, and Doc walked in, wearing a heartwarming smile on his face. The Joe team's only Military Policeman, Law, followed behind him. Luckily Law's dog, Order, was not with him.

"Hello, Scarlett. How are you feeling today?"

"Oh, Doc! It's so good to see a familiar face! But you didn't need to bring Law with you, I'm not going to put up a fight."

Doc sighed. "Actually, Law is here to take Snake Eyes into custody. Is he around?" Scarlett's look of fear on her face answered the question for the Joe doctor. "I take it he ran off?"

Scarlett slowly nodded. "I honestly don't know where he is. He left when I was asleep."

Law smiled. "We kind of figured he would. But I sort of have to look around anyways, y'know? Sorry."

As the MP walked through the room, Doc grabbed Scarlett's bandaged leg and said, "Let's look at that leg of yours."

"I hope he's okay, Doc."

"I'm sure he is, Scarlett. He's the best of the best."

"Yeah, but—ouch! That spot hurts. Storm Shadow has been hunting him, Doc. I need to be with him."

Doc thought for a moment. "I've known Snake Eyes a long time, Scarlett, almost as long as you. What I've learned about him is that you should never underestimate his passion for victory. Personally, I feel it's stronger than even Storm Shadow's."

Smiling, Scarlett leaned back on her pillow. "Thanks, Doc. I just…miss him."

"Me, too. But even if he is in trouble, I'm sure he'll find a way out of it."

Scarlett felt a tear slide down her cheek and wiped it away. Looking back to her fellow Joes, she asked, "Can we go now?"

Doc looked over to Law. The MP nodded. "Yeah, I'm satisfied that he isn't in here."

"Let's go then."

2.

"C'mon, you slackers! We ain't here to loot the place!" The Motor-Viper commander tapped his fingers on the Stun's controls as he waited for his team to return. One-by-one, his group of three Stun pilots exited the Machu Picchu hotel, each one carrying an arm-load of riches.

"You idiots, get rid of that crap! We don't have room for it all in the Stun!"

"Ah, c'mon, 42! This is real gold!" whined MV-67 as he dumped it into the storage container on the right side of the vehicle. "I'll split it with you."

The commander turned around as he heard MV-35 putting something into the left-side container. "So what did you get?"

"A toaster."

"What?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "I want a toaster."

"You're nuts." said MV-67.

The front door of the hotel opened up and MV-51 stepped out, adjusting his helmet.

"What the hell?" gawked MV-67. "Where did you find those things?" The other Motor-Vipers looked over and froze with amazement as MV-51 unsheathed the two swords he was carrying on his back and held them up

"Damn, dude, you've got us beat out, that's for sure." said MV-67.

Stumbling out of the hotel, MV-51 sheathed the swords and walked towards the Stun, but hesitated as he drew closer.

"What's the matter, ya mute, you forget where to sit down?" MV-67 started laughing while the Motor-Vipers crawled into their gunner positions. MV-51 then walked to the rear 9mm spot and sat down.

The commander looked back at MV-51, but since the raindrops were beginning to fall, he decided to keep quiet.

3.

The prison-room door opened again, snapping the four Joe prisoners to attention. Grunt looked up to see the burly Cobra Trooper walk in, carrying another plate of the sickening gruel that he had fed the team earlier. In true Cobra form, it was a soup-like meal, but he didn't give the group o Joes any eating utensils.

"Afternoon, boys, it's lunch time. Enjoy your breakfast?" He looked into the cell and frowned. "You must have, considering the bowl and plate are gone." He set the new plate down and drew his pistol. "Alright, jerks, where's the tray? Thinking of using it as a weapon?"

"We ate it." said Crankcase, in an even grimmer tone than usual.

"Oh, you _ate_ it." The Trooper snorted. He grabbed his keys and worked the lock, then slid the door open. Pulling out a pistol, he ordered, "Give me the bowl and the tray, or I start shootin'."

Alpine dropped down from his bunk and stood at the back wall. He pulled the bowl out from behind his back. "Come and get it."

"What? Are you insane?" asked the guard.

"No, I'm hungry. And I don't think you've got the guts to enter a prison cell filled with four Joes."

The Cobra Trooper stared at Alpine for a moment, the spurted out laughing, and kept laughing louder and louder. He slammed the cell door shut and walked out of the prison room, laughing hysterically.

"So much for your big plan, Grunt." snarled Crankcase.

"Don't worry. It's working perfectly." Grunt looked at Chuckles, who was on his knees, frantically reaching out of the cell and into the prison room. "What are you doing, Chuckles?"

"He left the food in the room. I'm trying to reach it."

After looking at each other in shock, the rest of the Joe prisoners joined Chuckles, stretching their arms out to the tray, trying to snag their gruesome meal lying out on the prison room floor.

4.

The final turn of the Inca Trail was approaching, and Motor-Viper-42 couldn't be more ticked off. He had heard enough giggles and jokes about little gold statues and titanium toaster ovens to last two lifetimes. The rain was thick, and the wind was slapping the Stun's single red flag all over the place. He almost wished that MV-51 would say something, but he was quieter now than ever. Probably gloating over those cool new swords.

"Okay, you idiots, once we get off this stupid trail, we start heading back towards the Temple Outpost."

"I say we go back to the hotel." said MV-67. I think I saw a convection oven that I'd like a swipe at."

"Yeah, make your stupid jokes." laughed MV-35. "But I'll be the one chomping down on crisp BLTs back at base."

"Bacon? Where the heck are you gonna find any--."

"Shut up you two!" barked MV-42 as he slammed the brakes and shifted gears down. The other Motor-Vipers looked forward and grabbed their gun controls, unlocking the safety controls and activating the wet LED screens of the targeting systems.

Sitting at the end of the Incan Trail, about eighty-yards from the Stun sat a G.I. Joe RApid-fire Motorcycle, or RA.M. An unidentifiable Joe sat on the seat, wearing a green rain cloak that flapped vigorously in the wind. He reached up to his helmet and said something into a microphone that MV-42 couldn't hear.

"What do we do, commander?" asked MV-35. "Do we take him down?"

Stun-21 was four-times bigger that that old Joe crotch-rocket. That was both its strength and its weakness. The Stun had two large twin cannons, but the RA.M. dragged along a 20mm gatling gun as its sidecar. The Motor-Vipers might hit that Joe with their first shot, but if they didn't, that gatling gun would tear the Stun apart and definitely kill at least one of the drivers before MV-42 could get it away.

Acceptable.

"All right, guys, get ready to blast that Joe off the mountainside." ordered the commander.

"What? Are you freaking crazy?"

"Yeah! Let's fry that twerp!"

MV-42 revved the Stun's engine; responding to the slam of the accelerator, the Stun roared to life, spraying dirt and gravel behind its tires and into the air. Blasting forward in a drag-race-like fashion, the massive Cobra vehicle charged for the little RA.M. motorcycle.

MV-35 took the first shot, but the shells flew high, sailing over the gatling gun sidecar, causing an eruption twenty feet behind the Joe. In order to give the starboard-side cannons a shot, the commander turned the Stun a bit left—that would give MV-67 a clear view, and he was a better shot than MV-35, and more bloodthirsty. But before he could get fully turned, the trigger-happy MV-67 fired a blast that sailed off of the mountainside.

"Dammit, 67! Aim your fire!" They were just about up to the RA.M., and the Joe hadn't even flinched. Was this guy stupid? Deciding to give MV-35 another shot, he turned the Stun back right, and the Stun's portside cannons were beginning to line up with the motorcycle, when some mysteriously loud humming became very, very, loud, thunderous humming.

Four explosions spread across the roadway between the Stun and the RA.M., bringing the Cobra vehicle to a screeching halt. Swooping in from the left came a G.I. Joe Dragonly XH-1 helicopter—with its 160mm cannon smoking. Shrieking nearly as loud as Cobra Commander, MV-42 turned right, nearly rolling the three-wheeler. As the Cobra's frantically maneuvered their vehicle, the Dragonfly hovered itself over the RA.M. Once the Stun had fully turned itself around, The motorcycle finally fired its gatling gun. The Stun's rear right wheel was torn off, and the trike dropped down to the ground and spun around, spewing mud and rock.

5.

"Destro! Is that infernal Matrix Cannon ready yet?" barked Cobra Commander as he barged into the research laboratory of the Cobra Incan Temple Outpost. The room was only two-thirds the size of Destro's lab in the Libyan warehouse, and did not have a hanging robotic arm. It was filled with run-of-the-mill tools and only had a single computer with any decent amount of memory. Needless to say, the Lord of Castle Destro was unimpressed.

"Patience, dear Cobra Commander. If you had provided me with an adequate research department perhaps it would be completed by now."

Blowing a puff of frustration under his hood, Cobra Commander stepped closer to Destro. "This lab is state-of-the-art! You're just taking too long!" The Commander walked to a table and picked up some shiny parts. "I had heard that you already performed a weapons test in Libya and it worked just fine."

In a deep, slow voice, Destro replied, "That test was for the basic firing system. I have added new parts to the cannon since then, significantly altering the Matrix Cannon's power processors. If you fired it now, it would explode, and you would die. But please, if it is that important to you, be my guest." Destro set the device onto the table, then leaned back on his stool and crossed his arms.

Cobra Commander frowned and shook his head. "Just…just hurry up." Waving his arm, the leader of the Cobra Terrorist Organization walked out of the door.

Grumbling, lost in his self-centered thought, the Commander nearly crashed into a Tele-Viper—a Cobra communications trooper—walking up to him. "Sir!"

"Huh?" What do you want?" snarled the terrorist leader as he looked down upon his blue-uniformed troop that wore giant goggles equipped with a Head's Up Display, or HUD.

"Sir, we have an emergency!" nervously replied the Tele-Viper.

Cursing, Cobra Commander pointed down the hall towards the communications room. "Tell me on the way to the Comm-Room."

"Yes, sir! We have lost contact with a Stun that was on patrol around the mountain, sir."

"What?" Cobra Commander pushed past the Tele-Viper.

"Yes, sir. Stun ST-21 has missed its noon check-in." The Commander looked at his watch. It was 12:14pm.

Always high-strung, Cobra Commander assumed the worst. "There must be Joes around here, looking for us. Send out a squadron of Trubble Bubbles to search for the Stun. They're to destroy any Joe vehicle they find."

"Yes, sir." The Tele-Viper began typing on his computer like crazy.

Cobra Commander stormed out of the room, yelling to himself, "Dammit, Destro! I need that Matrix Cannon, and I need it now!"

6.

Inching closer to the Stun, the Joe on the RA.M. waved thanks to the Dragonfly as it flew north towards Machu Picchu. While watching the Motor-Vipers crawl off the wreckage, the Joe drew an M-16 from beneath his flapping rain cloak.

"Okay, you bozos, get out of the big wheel and stand in a row in front of me." MV-67 looked back at the Joe who was…blowing bubble gum?

"Who you calllin' bozo's, bubble brain?" growled the Cobra.

"Shut up, 67!" barked MV-42. "I'm Motor-Viper 42, commander of this pack of turkeys. Look. Maybe we can cut a deal."

A gum bubble popped on the Joe's mouth. "Sure. And maybe some llamas will start flying out of my butt. My name is Breaker, communications officer for the G.I. Joe team. You guys are all captured. But don't worry. Being captured by us is a lot nicer than Cobra Commander says it is." Breaker looked at the group of Cobras standing before him. "Hey, buddy, there is no way that your swords are going to stop my bullets, so drop 'em."

The other Vipers looked to MV-51, who was still carrying the two swords he found at the Machu Picchu hotel. MV-67 started laughing at the sight of such apparent arrogance, but the other Vipers noticed that MV-51 couldn't stand up straight.

"Hey, let us go. One of our guys is hurt." pointed out MV-42.

"Bull." said Breaker. He got up off of the RA.M. and looked at the Motor-Vipers. As he examined them, MV-51 attempted to stand up straight. The Stun hadn't exploded or crashed, so no one could have been hurt too badly, Breaker was careful about that. Still, when he took a closer look at MV-51, he could sense the pain the man was feeling, even though the Viper still wore his cubical, silver helmet.

Touching the transmitter on his own helmet, Breaker said, "Inca One, this is Rogue Conquistador, come in, please."

After a couple of seconds a reply came. "Rogue Conk, this is Inca One, we're receiving you."

"Yeah, hey, I've got a pack of nasty snakes up here and I need pick up. One looks hurt. Estimated time to my position?"

"You've gotten a bit too far ahead of everyone else, R.C. We're stuck on these twisting mountain roads. You're going to have to hold those snakes for at least another hour. You're lucky we could get the Dragonfly to you. Inca One out."

"R.C. out. Damn."

MV-51 hunched over and dropped to one knee. Breaker risked getting closer. "Hey, pal, talk to me, what's wrong with you?"

The Motor-Viper wouldn't respond.

Standing back, Breaker pointed to the commander: "You, get his helmet off of him." Nodding, MV-42 knelt down and began unlatching the silver faceplate's clamps. After quickly pulling the helmet off, the Motor-Vipers cried out in shock at the site of the blond man kneeling before them. Breaker ran up to the Viper and turned him around, choking down his bubblegum when he recognized the blond man's face. "Snake Eyes! What are you doing here?"

The Joe commando pulled himself up using Breaker's shoulders, then walked towards the RA.M.

"Hey, uh, Snake, that's my ride." said Breaker, while trying to keep his eyes on the Motor-Vipers.

Climbing onto the motorcycle, the ninja turned it on and revved its engines.

"Snake, really, I need my bike! I can't get any support for an hour. You're not supposed to be on active duty anyways."

Snake Eyes reached back into one of the storage containers on the RA.M., pulled out an MRE ration and tossed it to Breaker. He then revved the engine really high, shifted it into gear and took off up the mountain hill, back towards Machu Picchu.

7.

Looking at the spilt glop on the prison room floor, Crankcase could feel his stomach growl in pain as it punished him for tipping over the bowl. It wasn't all his fault. After all, when four grown men fight for the same piece of food, something bad was destined to happen. There would be more glop to eat, right? Of course, that was lunch, and so that would mean dinner was only five hours away…maybe?

His stomach growled even louder.

"Why do you think Cobra Commander hasn't tortured us, or put us in some arena with live animals?" asked Alpine, apparently just to anyone who would answer the question.

Chuckles did. "I guess his firing squad is busy or somethin'."

"He must be busy with something." replied Grunt.

"Doin' what? Dry-cleaning his hood?" asked Crankcase.

"Getting this Incan Temple operational."

"You think we're in the new Incan Temple?" asked Chuckles.

"Well duh." groaned Alpine. "We got captured in Peru, didn't we?"

"Well, I thought maybe we were shipped off somewhere, or somethin', that's all. Sheesh."

"I figure he's spending all his time getting Destro's weapon ready. It must be just about operational." said Grunt.

"Probably is. Destro has all the parts, now that we've screwed everything up." said Crankcase.

"Shut up, Crankcase." snapped Grunt. "I don't want to here that kind of talk. We're not out of this yet."

"You still want to take out the guard?" asked Chuckles, but before Grunt could reply, the prison room door opened, and the guard walked in; but this time, he was followed by three more Cobra Troopers, all just as big as he was.

"Hello, Joes! I've come to get that bowl back, but this time I brought a few of my friends to help." He looked down at the spilt food on the floor. "Well, looks like you guys have been a little messy. I guess you don't need dinner, then."

His fellow Troopers laughed as he opened the cell door. The Joes looked to Grunt, who kept his eyes locked on the guard. "Now, I'll be needing that bowl and tray back from you." This time, he didn't bother to draw a gun; apparently, he felt the protection of his fellow Cobras was enough. He simply held out his hand.

Grunt looked up to Alpine and nodded. The Joe Mountain Trooper handed the Joe Infantry Trooper the thin metal bowl. Grunt stood up from his bed and walked up to the Cobra, who was obviously smiling behind his black facemask. Grunt looked back to Alpine, Chuckles and Crankcase, then to the Trooper…and slammed the bowl in his face. As the Cobra put his hands up to his face, Grunt punched him as hard as he could in the stomach, which brought the Cobra's hands down. Grunt then jabbed him in the face with his left hand, sending the Trooper crashing backwards into the cell bars.

Roaring in anger, the other Cobra Troopers charged into the cell. Crankcase slid the food tray out from beneath Chuckle's bunk and slapped it into a Cobra's face, then decked him in the stomach. He made a break for the cell exit, but his legs were grabbed by the guard and he crashed to the ground. Chuckles attempted to punch a Troop, but was blocked and then punched in the jaw, sending a splash of blood and a couple of teeth against the wall. Before the Trooper could connect a second punch, Alpine tackled him and pinned him against the bunk bed.

"Go!" cried the Joe Mountain Trooper.

While holding his bloody jaw, the Joe Undercover Agent ran to the cell door, and stomped on the guard's head, which freed Crankcase from his grasp. Crankcase stood back up and kicked the guard's unconscious face. As a final touch, he turned around and kicked another Trooper in the kidneys and then ran out the cell door.

Grunt took a hard punch to the mid-section, but before he could retaliate, the Cobra attacking him yelped in pain, grabbed his kidneys and fell to his knees. The Infantry Trooper decked him hard, sending him to the floor. Looking to his left, Grunt could see two Troopers beating up Alpine. Grunt pulled the sheet from his bed and draped it over one Cobra Trooper's head, then punched him twice, knocking him to the ground. The other Troop turned around to face Grunt, but before he could throw a punch, a metal bowl bonked against the back of the Cobra's head. It was all the distraction Grunt needed to wallop the Trooper in the face, sending him sliding down the wall and slumping to the floor. Grunt looked out of the cell to see that it was Chuckles who had thrown the spilt bowl from the room.

"Nice shot, Chuckles!"

"That guy wrecked my perfect teeth!"

Nodding, Grunt turned back to Alpine, who was is agonizing pain, and helped his hunched-over teammate stumble out of the cell. As they exited, Crankcase slammed the cell shut.

"Can you lock it?" asked Grunt.

"No, the guard has the key, and I ain't searching him."

"Here." Chuckles ripped a sleeve from his shirt and wrapped it around the lock, then tied a series of knots. "Maybe that will slow them down."

"Yeah, for about ten seconds."

"Good job, guys." praised Grunt. "Our next objective is to find some weapons. After that, we need to find Mainframe and Bazooka."

"Just…just leave me. I'm too busted up." whispered Alpine.

"You know damn well that Joes don't abandon each other." said Grunt with a stern voice. "We do this together. C'mon."

As the team left the prison room, Crankcase stopped, picked up the lunch food tray and threw it at the lone seventy-five-watt light-bulb in the room, casting the groaning Cobra Troopers in near-complete darkness.

8.

Breaker sat on the soggy mountain road, painfully tired of looking at his prisoners who had to be constantly ordered to shut up. Apparently, Vipers liked to bicker amongst themselves. He was also sick of the promises of wealth they made if only he would free them. He would never believe that a Cobra Stun carried thousands of dollars worth of gold in it. Why one Motor-Viper kept promising a state-of-the-art toaster was beyond reason.

As if he was dreaming, Breaker began to hear a soft rumbling sound. Was it an earthquake? A mountain-quake? Looking at the road, the Joe Communications Trooper could see the little wet pebbles begin to dance around. Whatever was vibrating the ground, it was getting closer.

As he stood up, Breaker watched a G.I. Joe Armadillo Mini-Tank round the road curve. The green, small-car-sized tank was being driven by Duke and pulling a Heavy Arms Laser (H.A.L.). The Joes Sci-fi and Recondo rode on the rear deck. It was being followed by Muskrat and Beachhead driving two more RA.M. motorcycles. A Vehicle Attack Multi-Purpose (V.A.M.P.) jeep driven by Grand Slam and Zap came up the rear. It was towing a Mobile Missile System. Unable to resist his relief, Breaker jumped and cried for joy.

"Great to see you, Duke! Yo Joe!"

The Armadillo drove up next to Breaker and shifted down, then Duke shut it off. The G.I. Joe Master Sergeant climbed out of its cockpit looking a little annoyed at his teammate's behavior. "It looks like you've been a little lonely, Breaker."

"Actually, Duke, I've had a bit of company." said the gasping communications officer.

Duke looked at the three Motor-Vipers sitting in the mud across the road, the single Motor-Viper helmet lying on the ground and the RA.M. tire-tracks leading off up the muddy road.

"Snake Eyes?"

Breaker blew a bubble and popped it. "Bingo."

"Tell me everything."

9.

Range-Viper RV-98 ran up the steep, sloping mountainside. He had to get his blue-shirt-and-black-pants-uniformed body back to base, and he had to get it back, fast. If that was indeed a G.I. Joe motorcycle—and that 20mm gatling gun stuck to its right side left little doubt—the Cobra Incan Outpost was in a lot of trouble.

The Range-Viper had kept a good eye—through his snarling skull mask, of course—on the little bike as it followed the trail up to the outpost, but as it made the last turn, he lost sight of the Joe vehicle and wouldn't find it again until he topped the hill. Trying his hardest to run faster, RV-98 pushed himself up the slope to the hilltop, then skidded to a stop as he looked down the hillside, once again looking for the little green motorcycle.

There.

He was closer now, and the Range-Viper could get a clear look at the driver.

It was a…Motor-Viper? With no helmet? And swords? Could it be a Cobra?

No. No way. Motor-Vipers aren't trained well enough to commandeer Joe motorcycles, and they don't use swords. Not a chance.

Shaking the confusion from his mind, the Cobra Wilderness Trooper saw that he had a good shot, and decided his missile launcher could take out the Joe before he knew he was even shot at. Lifting up his empty, tubular rocket-launcher, RV-98 unhooked a missile from his enormous backpack and dropped it into the tube. Once it was locked in, he raised the launcher to his shoulder and aimed for the motorcycle, which was still arcing around the hillside. After the Viper had settled the crosshairs, he pulled he trigger.

Bursting with flaring energy, the missile raced out of the launcher and silently soared down the hillside. In less than five seconds, the rocket reached its target, and exploded in a thunderous blast that sent smoking debris spiraling off in every direction. But what was that? Movement? Had the driver jumped?

Range-Viper-98 lowered his missile-launcher and squinted his eyes. He couldn't see the pilot, but… No. There was no way that someone could have escaped that shot.

Smiling, the Wilderness Trooper picked up his gear and began walking down the slope towards his kill.

10.

Destro welded on the last of the Matrix Cannon's blast tubes, then sanded down his weld spot and turned off the welding tool. Leaning back, he took a wide look at the cannon, and smiled.

It was done.

The energy conductors and focus tubes from the Philippines were on now, as well as the amplifier that Firefly had secured for him in Tunis. It was no longer just a wide-blasting raw-energy-dumper like it was in Libya; now, now it was a fine-tuned, target-able device that could incinerate cities from orbit. The Matrix Cannon was Cobra's first major step toward world domination in the twenty-first-century.

The CEO of M.A.R.S. picked up the terribly heavy device and set it on the push-cart sitting next to the work table. As if on cue, Tomax and Xamot barged through the research lab's doors.

"Thank you, Lord Destro." said Tomax.

"We'll be taking that from you, now." continued Xamot.

Destro was ready to fire his gauntlet-rockets at the twins—but he wasn't wearing his gauntlets. "What? You won't lay a finger on the Matrix Cannon. It is _my_ weapon."

"We beg…"

"…to differ, Lord Destro."

"How did you even know that I had finished?"

Cobra Commander entered the room and pushed apart the twins, walking up to the weapons manufacturer. "Destro, Destro, Destro. We have had the Matrix Cannon project under close observation from the moment you walked in. You must remember, this is a Cobra operation, and I hold the title of Cobra Commander. Therefore…" he tapped his hand on the invention. "The Matrix Cannon is mine."

"How dare you, Commander! If you wish to continue to work with me in the future, you will respect my claims to _my_ inventions!"

Cobra Commander snorted. "This isn't a democracy, Destro. Besides, I control the one factor that makes all of your inventions _my_ inventions, and will keep you making inventions for _me _again and again." As two purple-suited Techno-Vipers pushed the cart out of the lab, Cobra Commander patted a pocket on his blue uniform. "I control the money."

The Lord of Castle Destro frowned. "I have plenty of money of my own, Commander."

"Not as much as I do. Not enough to keep building extravagant projects such as the Matrix Cannon. Remember that, next time you start feeling too 'disrepespected'."

Shaking with frustration, Destro punched the lab table and stormed out of the room. Cobra Commander was right. He could never claim recognition as long as Cobra remained stronger than the Iron Grenadiers, and since Destro lacked the bloodlust that the Commander thrived on, he would always remain "Number Two."

But perhaps it was time to have a taste of that bloodlust. Perhaps the best way to make the Iron Grenadiers stronger, was to make Cobra weaker…

11.

Sliding off of the hill's grass and onto the road's mud, Range-Viper-98 stepped onto the shattered carburetor of the G.I. Joe RA.M. motorcycle that lay in ruins before him. He wanted to smile, to enjoy his newest victory, but he was bothered by the fact that couldn't see the driver's body.

Did he get incinerated? No. Not likely. Range-Vipers only packed a wimpy little missile that only carried enough power to break apart a motorcycle, and not much more.

Kicking apart the busted armor plates and ammo belts, RV-98 searched for any signs of a human being. When he walked to the road's edge and looked down the steep slope, he found some: a burned and broken Motor-Viper uniform laid in a pile about twenty feet down the hill.

RV-98 stepped back and un-locked his grenade-launcher. "All right. I know you're around here somewhere. I don't know how you survived that missile shot, but if you don't surrender to me right now, you ain't gonna survive another ten minutes."

Feeling a pebble hit him in the back on the head, the Range Viper turned to look down the road, and found himself looking at the most gruesome man he had ever seen; it didn't even phase him.

"I don't know if I did that to your face, Joe; but I'd be happy if I did." RV-98 dropped his grenade-launcher and pulled out his knife. "You must think you're gonna chop me ta pieces with one of them big scary swords. I ain't afraid o' no sword, Joe."

In a roaring-rage, RV-98 ran at the Joe, who dodged the Viper's stabbing attack by turning away; but the move sent pain stinging from his injured lower stomach, and he fell to his knees. The Range-Viper elbowed him in the back of the head and the Joe commando collapsed face-first onto the muddy road, bleeding from his torso.

"Damn that was sickeningly easy. I almost thought you were the big Joe tough-guy, Snake Eyes, but after a butt-kick like that…"

Scooping up the muddy, bloody, Joe, RV-98 began a slow march back towards the Cobra Incan Temple Outpost, not realizing the monumental mistake he had just made.


	9. Frustration

**Chapter 9**

**Frustration**

Yawning so largely that he almost swallowed his black facemask, Cobra Trooper CT-816 hunched over with boredom. How Crimson Guardsmen stood through their sickeningly long shifts without going insane was a tribute to either their devotion—or their stupidity.

It was CT-816's shift to guard the weapons room today—the loneliest shift on the worklist. He was locked in a small, thin section of hallway with no one to look at or talk to. He couldn't even see his reflection in the aluminum-paneled walls. Thankfully, due to some almost union-like complaining a few years ago, Cobra Troops were allowed to rotate their assignments. Last week CT-816 had kitchen duty, but two weeks ago he had the best: foot patrol.

He did get a break yesterday: he switched with CT-923, who had a snoozer guard duty at the medical room. CT-923 wanted to go on a date with some vixen he met in the nearby village of Aguas Calientes, so he bribed CT-816 to cover his medical room shift, and then paid a big bribe to an off-shift Trooper to cover the weapon's room.

Needless to say, with all that happened yesterday, the shift was worth every minute. Watching the Joes gettting trucked in and out and back into the medical room was about as interesting as guard duty could get.

Boy, was his life getting boring.

"Huh?" Hearing a scuffing sound, the Trooper turned to his left and walked to the wall's corner. Two hands grabbed his shoulders and pulled him forward, then a second set of hands punched in the face. He looked up to see a scruffy red-mustached man, then faded away to sleep.

1.

"That was a little hard, don't you think, Crankcase?"

"I don't care, Chuckles. I'm mad."

"Yeah, but we have to wake this guy up in a couple of minutes." pointed out Grunt.

"I've got his keys." said Chuckles, smiling as he jiggled his catch.

The weapons room door creaked open, and Grunt flipped the light on. Rows and rows of Cobra small and heavy-arms sat stacked along the walls.

"Wow. This stuff could miss a lot of Joes."

"Zip it, Crankcase." Ordered Grunt. "Let's find some goods and get out of here."

2.

Cobra Trooper CT-816 woke up to some light slapping on his now facemask-less cheeks. Batting away the annoyance, he slowly opened his eyes, then jumped in panic

Four heavily-armed G.I. Joes stood over him, looking down upon him like some infant in a crib. The Trooper desperately searched around himself for his AK-47, but stopped when a red-mustached Joe held it out in front of him.

"Looking for this?" asked the Joe.

CT-816 quickly reached out for it, but the Joe pulled it back. "Slow down, there, hotshot."

"Let me go."

"Not gonna happen." said a blond Joe, smiling. "But we'll cut you a deal. Tell us where our two injured friends are, and we'll just leave you locked in the weapons room, without knocking you out again."

The Trooper thought for a moment. "Not a chance, slime-balls."

Nodding, the blond Joe kept his smile. "Okay. Well, sorry we couldn't do business. Crankcase, he's all yours."

The red-mustached Joe pulled the Cobra off of the floor and leaned back into a punching stance. "Sorry if this breaks your jaw. I'm aiming for your nose."

Cringing in fear, the Cobra Trooper ducked his head. "Wait! Wait! I'll talk! Don't punch!"

Patting the Cobra's shoulder, the blond Joe grinned even more obnoxioiusly. "See? We can be friends after all. Now, where are those injured Joes?"

3.

The power cable felt ridiculously light in Destro's hands. It was only one-third the weight of the monstrous snake that he had attached to the Matrix Cannon in Libya, but it was perfect for the upgraded device, now—at least Cobra Commander thought so. The Commander had assured him that it was of superior quality, but he had no engineering skill, and Destro was anxious to humiliate the Head Snake yet again. This time…this time it carried a secret purpose. Still, Destro hated to see one of his creations fail, and there was also something almost—gothic—about having an obscenely large power cable on one of your weapons…and the manufacturer missed it.

"Is there a problem, my love?" asked the Baroness.

Destro smiled and began attaching the cable to the Matrix Cannon. "No, my dear. Of course not. I was merely…daydreaming."

"About me, I hope."

"Absolutely, my dear Baroness, absolutely." Destro tightened the cable attachment and stood up, looking at his amazing small, yet incredibly destructive creation. The Baroness' fingers crawled across his body, and her head lied on his shoulder.

"Is it complete?"

"Yes. It is ready for testing."

"It is magnificent."

Growling Destro placed his hands on the cannon, now sitting upon its mount. "Yes, but is my device. I grow tired of the Commander taking control of all of my weapons."

"Then perhaps you should be the one firing it, Destro." said a voice from behind the pair of lovers.

The duo turned around to see Cobra Commander standing in the doorway to the top floor chamber with the Crimson Twins standing behind him.

"C-Commander, I never meant—."

"I know what you meant, Destro. If this stupid gun is so important to you than by all means, climb onto the seat and take the shot yourself. I am not so shallow a man as you like to believe."

Destro looked back at the Commander for a moment, then decided that silence was the best choice at this time. Bowing his respect, the weapons manufacturer stepped to the rear of the Matrix Cannon's mount and sat onto the seat provided for the cannon's operator.

The Matrix Cannon itself was only about three-feet long, but it was mounted onto a stand that increased its length another three feet by providing a computer-control-station at the cannon's rear. A leather, high-backed seat was hooked behind the control station to provide the operator a sitting-space. The mount could raise about twenty feet high and rotate one-hundred-thirty-five-degrees. Standing in front of the Matrix Cannon were the top floor chamber's massive eighty-foot-wide sliding sky-doors. They needed to be opened in order for the cannon to have its shot to the East—towards the Brazilian Rain Forest.

A loud hum echoed throughout the chamber as Destro activated the cannon and it raised off of the ground. It was short-lived however, for only a couple seconds later the main doors were activated and the roar of their openings drowned out the little hum of the Matrix Cannon's elevation.

Once the doors began to open, wind and rain blasted into the chamber, and Destro called down to the Commander, "We can't afford to have the Matrix Cannon get damaged from rainfall! Let's hurry up with the test!"

"Fine! Tomax, Xamot! What are our targeting coordinates?"

"Latitude: ten-degrees-south." started Tomax.

"Longitude: sixty-degrees-west." finished Xamot.

"There, Destro! You see? Easy coordinates!" teased Cobra Commander. "Now, fire!"

"As you wish!" As he pressed in the numbers on the control-station's little square buttons, Destro came to the realization that he was getting a chill down his spine—that he was actually getting excited. His Matrix Cannon, for all the trouble it was to get it here, was complete, and amidst the gusting wind and rain, he was about to fire the weapon that would seal his place in history as one of the greatest minds of all time!

4.

"What the hell did I just do?" yelled out Range-Viper-98 as the secret south entrance door shut behind him.

The moment he had opened the door, the entire Cobra Incan Temple Outpost was cast into darkness. Screaming and crashing noises echoed through the hallways as panic-stricken Vipers tumbled into each other, searching for safety.

RV-98 leaned over and dropped the body of the G.I. Joe he was carrying. It slammed hard to the floor, but the Range-Viper paid it no attention. Pulling out his flashlight, RV-98 lit up the hall. After a few steps a H.I.S.S.-Driver and a Crimson Guardsman came running towards the Viper and crashed into him.

After shoving the hysterical klutzes off of him, RV-98 stood up. "What are you idiots doing? What is going on here?"

The H.I.S.S.-Driver stood up first. "It's Destro! His new weapon screwed up and blew out the main and back-up power generators! The whole Temple is powerless!"

RV-98 started laughing. He was a Wilderness Trooper not because he needed tools or weapons to provide him power—he was power. Destro and Cobra Commander could take all their fancy weapons and stick them in their rich little ears.

"Then get outside. It's wet, but it's still mid-day."

The two Cobras charged towards the door, but crashed again, tripping over Snake Eyes' body. "You idiots!" barked RV-98, "Don't hurt my Joe prisoner!"

"How were we supposed to know he was here?" snapped back the Crimson Guardsman as the duo pushed their way out the door.

Finally taking an interest in the Joe's condition, Range-Viper-98 walked over to him and knelt down. "It's gonna be a helluva chore to get you to the prison, but it's obvious I can't leave you here." Pulling the limp Joe up to his feet, the Viper prepared to heft him back onto his shoulder, but he cringed with pain and let go of his prisoner. Stepping back, RV-98 shone his flashlight down at his stomach; a Crimson Guardsman knife was sticking deep and twisted into his torso.

"You…you…took it from the C.G…when he…fell…you son-of-a-…" The Range-Viper reached for the scar-faced Joe who punched him, knocking the big, cocky Cobra Viper flat on his back.

The Joe stumbled over to the sliding flashlight, picked it up, and began a slow trek through the Temple.

5.

Although the hallway was pitch-black, the light around the door's edges informed the Joes that they were in the right place. Taking a stance, Grunt pulled his thigh back against his stomach, stomped sideways…and bounced back, crashing into Chuckles, who was standing right behind him.

"Whoa! You okay, Grunt?"

"Dammit! Yeah, I'm okay, Chuckles. They've got the door bolted shut. Looks like security is pretty tight."

Crankcase stepped in front of the door, aiming his newly-acquired AK-47 at the lock. "Let's do it my way, then."

"No, wait!" cried Grunt.

But it was too late. After a short burst of fire, the Joe Vehicle Driver kicked the door, and this time, it swung in hard. Unfortunately, thanks to Grunt's "early warning," there were Cobra Vipers in the room, crouched in firing positions, waiting for the Joes to come in. Jumping out of the way of the oncoming barrage of bullets, the Joe team landed on the hard, metallic floor of the hallway and tried to regain their wits in the dark.

"Well that's just great, team-leader Grunt." snarled Crankcase. "We've totally lost the element of surprise, and now there's a pair of Vipers waiting to pump us full of lead."

"I counted three of them." replied Grunt. "Well, if you had waited, like I ordered, maybe we wouldn't be in this predicament."

A grenade rolled out of the door. Crankcase grabbed it and hurled it down the hall. It could be heard bounce off of a wall twenty feet away, then hit the floor and explode.

The Joes cursed as loud as they could as a red flash hit them with a concussive force and shrapnel, leaving them with horribly ringing ears. Crankcase rolled over with his hands on his ears, and Chuckles and Alpine grabbed some cuts and scrapes on their bodies. Despite his own pain, Grunt cursed again, cocked his AK-47 and stood up. Spinning around, he swung his gun into the doorway.

The room was about twice as large as the prison room, with two beds attached to each wall. It was a fairly clean and organized room, but that was most likely due to the fact that the outpost was so new. Four gas lamps were spread around the room, providing the emergency light.

The three Vipers were all walking towards the door—apparently believing the grenade had finished the job for them; seeing Grunt totally caught them off guard. He immediately opened fire, shooting up their legs, since aiming for their bullet-proof vests would be a waste of time. As the Vipers fell, the Joe Infantryman ran up to each of them and pulled their helmets off. Using the butt of his rifle, he knocked each one into unconsciousness.

There were a couple of medics standing in the corner of the room, and Grunt stared harshly at them. "Where are my friends?"

One shaking medic pointed to a door marked "Restricted."

"Open it."

Nodding, the medic walked over and pulled out some keys, then stuck one in the door handle. Grunt picked up a gas lamp, and pushing the medic ahead of him, he walked into the room.

6.

"Destro!" Cobra Commander screamed so loud, it hurt. "When I get my hands on you…!" Looking up, the Head Snake could only see the Matrix Cannon sitting twenty-feet up on its mount, blowing black smoke out of its sides—smoke that had flooded the top-floor chamber, and was spiraling up and out, thanks to the heavy wind.

But Cobra Commander was drenched in black, as if he were a character in a classic cartoon that had just held an exploding bomb. Each one of his suits cost over ten-thousand dollars, they were works of art—would a Picasso be treated like this?

Tomax came walking out of the smoke to his right. "Commander, are you…"

"…all right?" the Commander turned his head to see Xamot emerge from the smoke on his left side.

"Huh? That is a stupid question. Look at this place! My wonderful Incan Temple Outpost! Do you realize how much this base cost me?"

"Actually…"

"We do."

Cobra Commander blinked. He forgot that he was talking to his accountants.

Some groaning could be heard, about fifteen feet away. "Go!" ordered the Commander. "Find out who that is!"

The twins walked back into the black, and in a minute they returned holding the Baroness. "Where…where is Destro?"

"I am trying to figure that out myself, Baroness."

"I am right behind you, Commander."

Spinning around, the Head Snake shrieked when he saw the Lord of Castle Destro standing to his rear, but holding giant wire cutters.

"Get back, you traitorous buffoon! I can have you killed in a heartbeat!" threatened the whimpering snake.

Destro laughed. "Don't flatter yourself, Cobra Commander. I intend to repair the Matrix Cannon, not the weak-link in Cobra Command's hierarchy."

As the Head Snake growled, the weapon's manufacturer walked over to the smoking Matrix Cannon—or more specifically, the power-cable hanging from its rear—and snipped it off. Slowly cooling down, the Matrix Cannon finally reached a point where it no longer emitted any smoke. The hard winds and rain quickly disposed of the black cloud that was funneling out of the mountaintop.

"Tell your Techno-Vipers to re-set the power generators." ordered Destro. "They should work; now that the Matrix Cannon is no longer draining them."

With a doubtful look on his face, Cobra Commander ushered away the Crimson Twins. "Do it."

As the brothers left the room, the Commander prepared to unleash his anger, "You said that your device was ready, Destro! What went wrong?"

Holding up the power cable that the Head Snake had provided for him, Destro growled. "This went wrong! You and your damn interference with _my_ project! If you want things to work for you, my dear Cobra Commander, then _stay out of my affairs_!"

The Commander studied the weapon's manufacturer, and asked, "What do you really want, Destro?"

Slamming the broken cable to the floor, Destro stood closer to Cobra Commander. "Either give me a respectable share of this mission's profits, or you will see nothing."

Although he was a moronic engineer, Cobra Commander was a brilliant businessman. Destro smiled. "I want seventy-percent."

Laughing, the Commander looked away, then stepped in a puddle. "Fourty."

"Sixty."

Growling, Destro said, "Fifty."

Growling, Cobra Commander replied, "Fine."

After the terrorists shook hands, the Baroness took his arm, and the two of them left the room, leaving the Commander alone in the top-floor chamber to rage over what had just happened.

7.

"Cobra must be really stupid." said Breaker as he lowered Dukes binoculars, then handed them back to the G.I. Joe Master Sergeant.

Busy helping to set the M.M.S., Duke asked, "What makes you say that?"

"What made them think that they could hide a twenty-by-forty-foot-long steel wall in the middle of the Andes Mountains?"

"They've gotten away with it for over a year so far. My guess is that they're bribing the right people. Hand me that wrench."

Slapping the tool in Duke's hand, Breaker then took a swig of his water canteen. "Well, considering that they've got a big tower of smoke rising out of their little hidden base now, all the bribes in the world couldn't save them."

Duke stopped to look at the black gas snaking out of the top of the hollowed-out mountain that Cobra called its "Incan Temple." Something big had happened in there, but he had too few Joes with too little firepower to just charge into the base. His team had destroyed four Flight Pods and captured over thirty Troopers and Vipers that had fled the outpost in the last couple of hours, but the Joe Master Sergeant knew that he had to wait for reinforcements. He wasn't ready to strike. Now that his scout team had found the strike-point, he could bring in the rest of the team from Cusco, but it would still be almost a half-hour before they arrived.

8.

The light of the gas lamp cast its green glow across the bodies of the two unconscious Joes lying on the beds. In a room not much larger than a walk-in closet, there wasn't enough space for Grunt to comfortably maneuver. Worst of all, with his ears still ringing in pain from the grenade blast, it hurt him to try to listen for any kind of sound from his injured friends.

"Mainframe! Bazooka! Can you hear me? It's Grunt!" He shook Mainframe's arm, but got no response. There were numerous tubes hooked into his friends' arms, with straps wrapping multiple spots throughout their bodies and appendages.

Looking to the Cobra, Grunt was ready to explode with anger. Aiming a .357 Magnum at the medic, he barked, "Get these guys unhooked and pull out these intra-venous lines!"

The room's door opened, and Grunt turned, ready to fire, but Chuckles stood in the doorway waving his hands.

"Whoa! It's just me!"

Grunt pulled back his pistol and let out a sigh of relief. As he hunched over, the overhead lights turned back on, and everyone looked up.

"Looks like Cobra got the power back on." said Chuckles.

"We need to hurry up, then. How are the others?" Grunt looked back at the Cobra Medic working on Bazooka.

"Alpine is pretty bad, and Crankcase got really shook up. I hate to say it, but those guys absorbed the blast for the two of us."

"You and I are carrying Mainframe and Bazooka, and Crankcase is going to have to drag Alpine or something."

The medic walked up to Grunt. "The Joes are free to go."

"Good. Your fellow medic can stay here to work on the injured Vipers, but you're coming with us to show us the quickest way out of here."

The medic started shaking with a panicked-look in his eyes. "N-no. I don't think so." He reached up to a cabinet, opened it, and pulled out a syringe. Before the Joes realized what was happening, he injected the needle's contents into his arm.

"Dammit!" cursed Grunt as he grabbed the medic, who started shaking and slumped down in the Joe's arms. "Chuckles, make sure that other medic doesn't kill himself!"

"Roger!" The Joe Undercover agent ran back into the medical room, but found the Cobra-medic lifting the injured Vipers onto the beds. "You aren't planning on killing yourself, are you?"

"Not anytime soon. I need to stop the bleeding in these Vipers' legs, first."

Chuckles didn't know what to say. Concern for others was not a trait often found in agents of Cobra. "Well, good luck to you, then. You need anything?"

"Yes, hand me that scalpel."

"Chuckles!" called Grunt, "Get into the room and grab Bazooka, we're getting out of here."

9.

The Tele-Viper cursed his "newbie" status. Just because he was the newest fish in the pond, the rest of the group kept sending him to tell Cobra Commander about the bad news that kept popping up. First, it was the report about the lost Stun, which Cobra Commander threw a mild fit about, but now it was going to be much, much worse.

Frantically scrambling down the hall, the Tele-Viper reached the top-floor chamber and attempted to come to a stop at the room's entrance, but slid across the rain-covered metal floor and smashed into the wall.

Cobra Commander, who was watching the sky-doors slowly groan shut, jumped in shock and drew his pistol, "What the hell are you doing?"

Standing back up, the Tele-Viper nervously wiped himself off and stumbled into the room. "For-forgive me, your excellency. I have important news to report."

Sighing, the Commander waved his hand.

Nodding the Tele-Viper reported, "There is a unit of Joes setting themselves up on the ridge opposite our main entrance!"

Cast into panic-stricken hysteria, the Head Snake shrieked and charged forward. "_What? Why didn't we see them coming? Why wasn't I told about this until now?_"

Taking a step back and raising his arms in defense, the Tele-Viper whimpered back, "B-because our power was knocked out. We could not process the surveillance reports from our Flight-Pods until now."

Screaming in rage, Cobra Commander stormed towards the exit of the top-floor chamber. The Tele-Viper sighed relief and hunched over.

"And you, you stupid Tele-Viper," barked the Commander.

Turning around, the newbie Tele-Viper saw the Head Snake pointing his pistol back at him. "Next time, use the damn intercom!"

After three gunshots into his chest, the Viper collapsed to the sopping-wet floor and whispered, "But the power only just came back on…sir…"

With that, the hardest working Viper at the Cobra Incan Temple Outpost signed off the roster.

10.

"The fifty feet of cable on this cart will do. At least better than the cable Cobra Commander had provided for me." Destro pushed the cart over to a Techno-Viper that was in the research-lab with the weapon's manufacturer and the Baroness. "Take this up to the top-floor chamber and await my arrival."

"Yes Lord Destro."

As the Viper pushed the heavy cart out of the room, Destro began picking up some tools, then looked over to the Baroness. "Are you all right, my dear? You seem lost in thought."

Cautiously taking her eyes off of the supply room door in the back of the lab, she turned around to face her lover. "Yes, yes, I am fine, Destro. I am just…concerned…about our situation with the Commander, that is all."

Destro re-focused his attention to picking up his tools. "Do not concern yourself with that fool. I have shown him that I am not just another asset to be used at his will, and that the Matrix Cannon is too complex for his small mind to process. Most important of all, he no longer controls all the money." He stopped at the exit. "Are you going to join me in the chamber, my dear?"

The Baroness was once again looking at the door, but half-answered Destro's question. "No, no, I'll be fine. You go on. I'll join you in a little while."

Frowning, the Lord of Castle Destro left the room, and the Baroness walked over to the lab door and shut it. Sliding open a drawer near the exit, she pulled out an Uzi sub-machine-gun and an ammo clip. Slapping the clip in place, she walked closer to the supply room door and aimed the gun at it.

"When Destro and I last left this room, the supply door was wide open. I know, because I was the last to walk in it." Looking at the door handle, she frowned. "And I certainly didn't have bloody hands. Whoever is in there: I have an Uzi aimed at the door, and will fire it in five seconds. You have that long to surrender yourself."

She cocked the Uzi, then began counting.

"Five." Silence.

"Four." Silence.

"Three." Some rustling sounds.

"Two." The door handle jiggled.

"One." The door swung in, and the intruder stumbled out.

"My god, Snake Eyes. What did Storm Shadow do to you?"

The Joe commando, wearing a Cobra Trooper facemask, weakly raised his hands in surrender.

"I must get you to the medical room, immediately. I have more respect for you than to just watch you bleed to death in this third-rate research-lab. Come."

11.

"Duke, come here!" cried Breaker.

The Joe Master Sergeant ran over from the H.A.L. and looked down to where his long-time teammate was pointing. He didn't even need his binoculars to recognize what was happening.

"This is it, guys! Cobra is opening up their main doors! Take your positions on your vehicles and weapons and prepare for hell!" Duke ran back to the Armadillo, stomping across the little mud puddles overflowing with the rain water still falling from the thick, gray clouds. Sliding into the mini-tank's cockpit and splashing onto the seat, Duke asked Breaker, "How much longer until the reinforcements get here?"

"About five more minutes. We won't have any heavy air support for another ten."

Duke's curse was muffled by the ignition of the Armadillo's engine. Switching to radio, the master sergeant called to his team, "Okay, guys, we've got two little vehicles, two artillery and a couple of bikes. But you know what? Right now they're the most powerful damn machines on the planet, because they've got G.I. Joes operating them. So let's stay sharp, and stay strong. Screwing up is not an option. We've got five minutes to be gods among men, and you know what? I say we can do it, right?"

The entire team cried out, "Yo Joe!"

12.

"Damn!" cursed Grunt as he swung back around the corner.

"Who the hell was that?" said sommeone down the hall.

"I don't know. Let's check it out."

Chuckles set Bazooka down and pulled up his AK-47. "What happened? Are there guards down there?"

Grunt nodded, set Mainframe down and grabbed his assault rifle as well. Whispering a quick prayer, the Joe infantryman jumped around the corner and opened fire. Screaming could be heard, but after a moment, it was quiet again.

"You get 'em?" asked Chuckles.

"Yeah. I hate doing that."

As Grunt slung the rifle back over his shoulder, a door at the end of the hall was kicked open, and two more Vipers ran out shooting.

"Crap!" cried Grunt as he jumped towards Chuckles, who pulled him to safety.

"Come out, Joes!" taunted the Vipers.

"Yeah, we need the target practice!"

Crankcase handed Grunt a grenade.

"No way, Crankcase, I am not that brutal."

"Chill out, man! It's just a stun grenade. It'll only hurt the hell out of them, and us, too, but it might be our only chance to get out of here."

Grunt looked at the little black tube, about the size of a soda can and covered in large holes. "Fine. Let's get ready to go."

After the Joes were picked back up, the Joe infrantryman pulled the grenade's pin and tossed the smoking can around the corner.

"What the hell?"

"They tossed a grenade! Ru--!" Before the Viper could complete his sentence, the bomb blasted, using only a bright flash and a deafening bang to agonize the Vipers.

The Joe team walked around the corner and unmasked the Cobra troops, then completely knocked them out with the butt of their guns.

Grunt pushed open the door and led the Joes through into another long, narrow hallway. He planned to plod on down the tunnel without even looking up, when Chuckles called to him.

"Grunt! Stop!"

Not intending to slow down, the mission leader came to a standstill when he looked up and saw Snake Eyes standing in front of him, with the Baroness holding an Uzi at his back.

"Well now, this is interesting," smiled the Queen of Cobra, "You Joes just keep popping up, and looking worse and worse. I'm sorry to say it, but it's back to the medical room for you, darlings. Every one of you boys really, really need it."

"Let us go, Baroness." demanded Grunt.

"You must be joking."

"Let us go, now." emphasized the Infantry Trooper, even louder.

Baroness wiped all emotion from her face, adjusted her glasses, and pressed the Uzi against the back of Snake Eyes' head. "Go back to the medical room, or he dies."

Grunt and Chuckles set down Mainframe and Bazooka yet again, and aimed their AK-47s. "Then he dies."

"What?" gasped the Baroness; but as she did so, Snake Eyes bent forward and kicked back, swiping the Cobra Queen's legs. She collapsed to the floor shooting Uzi bullets into the ceiling. Grunt ran forward and pinned the Baroness to the ground, disarmed her, then knocked her out.

"Sorry, Baroness, but Snake Eyes was just holding back until he found us."

"Yeah, but Big-B was right about one thing, Snake is hurt." said Crankcase. The team looked to the Joe commando to see him crouched on one knee and breathing heavily.

"Should we get him back to the medic?" asked Chuckles.

"No." said a voice behind the Joes. They turned around to see Storm Shadow standing in the doorway behind them. "If you value your lives, you all must leave."


	10. Warfare

**Chapter Ten**

**Warfare**

"Sci-Fi! Take out that H.I.S.S.!" Duke pointed down the hill while looking back to the Heavy Arms Laser. The Joe Laser-Trooper tilted the massive green cannon another ten degrees down and rotated it five degrees left, then pulled the pair of triggers. A row of lights along the cannon's fuselage flashed, and the device made a high-pitched zapping sound.

The beam was invisible, unlike those in motion pictures, but its effect sure wasn't. The right tracks of Duke's marked H.I.S.S. II tank began to sizzle, then sliced apart, as if a welding torch was cutting them. In mere moments, the Cobra tank's broken right tread began twisting itself destructively among its gears and the vehicle spew rock and dust, then leaned onto its smoking side. Once it was stopped, the H.A.L. began tearing apart the side of the tank.

Even from eighty yards, Duke could see that Sci-Fi was having the time of his life. "Great work, Sci-Fi, now get ready for hell!" Duke knew that the H.A.L. was going to become the number one target on the field because of what just happened…and he was right.

1.

"A week's worth of extra rations to whoever destroys that laser cannon!" screamed Cobra Commander from his position manning the turret of a H.I.S.S. II tank that kept a position closer to the entrance of the outpost.

"Cobraaa!" Roared the legion of Vipers surrounding him as they focused their fire on the H.A.L. It was a tactical blunder, because once the troops took their attention away from the other Joes, they were left wide open for strikes from the RA.M.s that were zooming down the mountainside. Six different Cobra Troopers and Vipers dropped immediately, and Stun-36 exploded, sending the Motor-Viper drivers leaping into the air.

"No, you fools! Watch out for the other vehicles!" barked the Commander as he spun his H.I.S.S. II's turret towards Muskrat's RA.M. and opened fire. Muskrat swerved his motorcycle and cranked the accelerator, narrowly avoiding the violent eruption behind him.

"Driver! Stop this thing!" cried Cobra Commander as he pounded on the fuselage of the H.I.S.S. II; the light blue High Speed Sentry actually skidded to a stop on the muddy ground. "Open the back door! Let the B.A.T.s out!"

As the back wall of the H.I.S.S. broke open, pressurized air puffed out in a large burst. The massive back door then leaned backwards nearly seventy degrees until it stopped and began pulling out the massive tray holding two rows of seats from the inside of the H.I.S.S. II tank. Humming with a grinding sound, the inside of the tank pushed itself out like a giant tongue…but this tongue carried a terrible, heaping prize atop it: four B.A.T.s sat atop the seats that stuck out from the H.I.S.S., and were now free to escape their high-speed prison.

Cobra Commander pounded on the top of the tank and pointed towards the G.I. Joe motorcycles assaulting his troops. "B.A.T.s! Destroy those motorcycles! Now!"

Like rabid animals, the Battle Android Troopers scrambled up from their seated positions and looked for the motorcycles. Once they had found them visually, they ran, firing their weapons with no respect for their limited ammunition supply.

Despite outnumbering the Joes nearly five-to-one, Cobra was losing. G.I. Joe had set themselves up well, and were quickly shooting down every troop and vehicle on the field. Vipers were beginning to run out of the outpost's main entrance with their arms in the air.

There wasn't much time left.

"Driver!" cried out the Commander, "Close the back end and get me back into the base!"

2.

"Ever the melodramatic, eh, Storm Shadow?" said Grunt, "We can't leave now, thanks to what _you_ obviously did to Snake Eyes."

"Despite our appearances," replied the white ninja, "he was the victor. And it is because of my loss to him that I grant you this one warning!" Storm Shadow stumbled through the doorway. "I have placed a bomb next to a power generator in this building. It will explode in seven minutes."

"My god, you are a sick man, Stormy!" gasped Crankcase.

Storm Shadow looked to Snake Eyes. "I have helped you, my brother. We are now even." The frown on the commando's face was readable through the trooper mask he wore. "Goodbye, my brother. Perhaps, when we are healed, we can once again be brothers. I have no right to challenge you again." With that, the Cobra Ninja limped off down the hall.

"Did he actually chuckle a little bit?" asked Crankcase. Everyone looked to Chuckles.

"Look, just 'cause it's my name doesn't make me an expert!"

"Forget this, we need to find that bomb and find it fast!" ordered Grunt.

"But what about all our wounded guys?" asked Chuckles.

"We know we can save them, but who knows where that bomb is?" pointed out Crankcase.

"And what if it's a trick by the vanilla swordsman to throw us off his scent?" said a groggy Alpine.

"That's a little too poetic, there, Alpine, but good point." said Crankcase.

Grunt frowned, picked up Mainframe's body and turned towards the exits. "Okay, scratch that. We save ourselves. We can't find a bomb lugging around our injured. Let's go guys, and let's hope things work out for the best."

"Amen, man." said Crankcase as he began dragging Alpine.

"Figures." said Chuckles as he looked around the hallway.

"What figures?" asked Grunt.

"Snake Eyes is gone. And he took my gun."

3.

Destro set down his wrench and wiggled the power cable. It seemed as tight as could be, and ready to have energy rushing through it at insane levels. Though the Lord of Castle Destro would never admit it out loud, he was thankful to have a Techno-Viper in the room assisting him—it really cut down on the busy work.

"The cable is ready, Viper. Activate the power switch."

Nodding his obedience, the Techno-Viper turned around to the top-floor-chamber's cut-off lever and pulled it down. With a bit of theatric spark, electricity sizzled through the cable up to the Matrix Cannon, lighting up the weapon's systems. The excessive sparkling tempered down, and all that remained was a deep hum and eerie glow emanating from the Cannon.

"Excellent." Destro climbed around the Cannon's fuselage and slid himself back onto the rear leather seat. "Now, fully open the sliding hatchway doors while I raise the cannon up and deal with our G.I. Joe intruders."

Frantically pushing buttons on the chamber's ground-floor-computer-station's control board, the Techno-Viper replied with a touch of panic in his voice. "I'm sorry, Lord Destro, but the doors are locked in their current positions! There is nothing I can do to move them!"

Stretching his cheeks in a massive grin hidden behind his expressionless mask, Destro replied, "Don't worry about it. I brought a key."

Roaring to life, the Matrix Cannon sparked with blinding energy, thrusting a blind burst of energy forward, quickly transforming the chamber doors into molten balls of fire.

As the globs of flame crashed to the floor, Destro cheered, "It works! My Weapon of Mass Destruction works!" The Techno-Viper nervously giggled and picked up a fire-extinguisher. After laughing some more, the weapon's inventor realized he almost sounded like Cobra Commander. Turning to look at the Viper, he asked, "Do you know what makes it truly amazing?" The Viper stopped spraying the flames, realizing that rain was now pouring into the room, and slowly shook his head. "It's practically a hand-held weapon! Why, two men could fire this! If they had the energy for it, of course…" Destro became lost in thought.

"Lord Destro, sir?" asked the Techno-Viper after about thirty seconds of dead silence.

Shaking his head, the CEO of M.A.R.S. gripped the controls of the Matrix Cannon and pulled the lever that activated the elevation of the tower. "I apologize. I was merely…hypothesizing. Now, man the computer-station while I raise the cannon out of the mountain's side and erase the G.I. Joe team forever, securing Cobra's claim at control of the free world."

4.

Pain was a strange sensation. The stronger it gets, the less you feel it. And right now, Snake Eyes' stomach was practically numb. He wasn't sure what Storm Shadow's katana had done to his intestines, but he was sure that he would be in a hospital for a month.

Despite the agony that he was enduring, his sense of honor—both as a member of the Arashikage clan and of the G.I. Joe team—pushed him further into the dark, wet, metallic hallways of the Cobra Incan Temple Outpost. He wasn't sure where the power generators were, but power lines ran through tubes bolted onto the walls that lead deeper into the cavern. It was a safe bet they led to a generator.

Up ahead, the rustling of boots against metal echoed around the corner. There was little light to focus on, but the silhouettes of men reflected off the walls ahead. The long, empty hallway gave Snake Eyes nowhere to hide. He would have to face the approaching Cobras face-to-face—he was saving his sole clip of ammunition for whomever or whatever he found in the generator room.

"Hey. Who's that?" asked one of the Vipers who rounded the corner.

"I don't know, he's wearing black! I can barely see him!" responded another.

"Who cares? Just push him over! We're running for our lives here!" cried the Viper in the rear.

Surprisingly, the three troops were un-armed, and charged arrogantly towards Snake Eyes, who crouched down, tripped one Viper and threw another onto the third. As the Cobras picked themselves up off of the metallic floor, they scampered away.

"Forget him. Let's just get out of here!" With that, the troops were gone. Snake Eyes continued down the hallway and rounded the corner, coming up to a door labeled "Thermal Generators." Cautiously turning the handle, the Joe commando walked in.

Inside the vast chamber were a row of ten massive orange power generators hooked to vents along the walls by an equal number of large swooping cables. The deep hum of the eighteen-piston-motors in the generators was almost deafening. The air was thick and stuffy, and the masked commando began to sweat intensely, and burst out some painful coughs. Whoever was running these generators was running them hard.

To the left were a cluster of un-manned computer stations, some with donuts and steaming coffee still resting on their counters. Apparently things were a bit lax down here in the power room. To the right were a doorway and a large wall of monitoring stations. Up above the entrance was a walkway, hanging down from large steel poles and silhouetted by the room's bright lights blaring behind it. It was the ideal place to take control of this room from, so the Joe Commando watched it closely.

It didn't take long to see where the bomb had been placed. It helped that Snake Eyes knew the way that Storm Shadow's mind worked. Snake Eyes would have put the bomb in the same place.

Pulling the explosive out from behind the center-most-generator's rear piston shaft, which was also closest to this massive engine's fuel tanks, Snake Eyes painfully stood up and began climbing back down from the generator…

When the lights when out.

The emergency lights clicked on, bathing the room in a shade of green. Surprisingly, the generators hadn't shut off; their mind-numbing roar was a thunderous as ever.

But it did mean someone else was in the room.

5.

There was no doubt about it: the tide had turned; the Joe team was getting overrun. The H.A.L. had fallen five minutes ago, thanks to Cobra Commander's little bounty. A H.E.A.T.-Viper managed to push his five-foot long armor-piercing-missile launcher up onto the smoldering wreckage of a H.I.S.S. and get a clear, elevated shot at the laser cannon. Sci-Fi barely got away with his life. Ironically, it wasn't a Joe that shot down the cheering Cobra High-Explosive Anti-Tank Trooper in his yellow suit; it was a jealous Viper who had wanted the bounty for himself.

And now B.A.T.s were tearing apart Beach Head's RA.M. There wasn't enough time to try to turn around Duke's Armadillo on the muddy ground, so the Joe's First Sergeant snatched his assault rifle, stood up on the mini-tank's soggy seat and aimed at the B.A.T. that had its arm around Beach Head's throat. After freeing the safety, Duke squeezed the handle and pulled back the trigger. As the rifle vibrated, he quickly swung it towards each and every Battle Android Trooper, who rattled violently from the bullets shattering their bodies.

After the B.A.T.s collapsed to the ground, Beach Head rubbed his neck and gave Duke a thumbs-up signal. Smiling, the Joe First-Sergeant reset his rifle's safety and dropped it into the Armadillo, then set himself back down onto the soggy seat.

Looking forward again, Duke ducked as the tank was torn apart by rapid-fire pouring out of a pair of F.A.N.G. helicopters zeroing in on his position. Unable to even flinch, Duke forced himself into a fetal position, waiting for the F.A.N.G.s' rockets to finish him off.

And the sound of a flying rocket finally came.

But it wasn't Duke who exploded.

The cannon-fire stopped and Duke dared to look up. A smoking ball was dissipating where one of the F.A.N.G.s had been hovering; the other chopper was racing away. A trail of smoke was drawn across the sky from the destroyed Cobra copter…to the M.M.S.!

"Grand Slam I owe you a beer!" called out Duke.

Beach Head ran over to the Armadillo as the First Sergeant jumped out of the ravaged mini-tank. "Thanks for the save, Duke. Looks like we both needed one today."

"Yeah, well, this is war." Duke frowned. "We need to pull back. Cobra is too strong for us here."

Beach Head pointed down the roadway that led to Cusco. "I think they'd disagree with you, Duke."

Looking over, the Joe First Sergeant saw a Persuader, two Hummers and a Wolverine rolling up the road, closing in on the Cobra Incan Outpost. Flying above them were Wild Bill's Dragonfly and three Sky Hawks. In the distance rocketed a squadron of Skystrikers.

The reinforcements had arrived.

But most important of all: in front of the group was a Tomahawk helicopter, gently lowering an Amphibious Personnel Carrier to the ground. Once it rattled to the soggy mountainside, a dozen Joes poured out of the backside and set up defensive positions around the long armored vehicle.

"C'mon, Beach Head, let's get over to the A.P.C. and help organize this rescue." said Duke with a smile.

"Yes, s--."

Before Beach Head could complete his reply, the Tomahawk helicopter, still hovering over the A.P.C. as the Joes unhooked its cables, erupted into a blistering orange ball of flame, spewing its pilots and gunners to the ground, then melted in the sky and splashed down onto the personnel carrier, which itself then burst into smoke and flame from the intense heat and began to melt as its drivers ran from the cockpit. Everyone within fifty yards ran away from the flame as it vaporized every amount of liquid within an equivalent radius. Explosives on the vehicles erupted, but the heat was far more frightening then the deafening explosions.

"Good god!" cried Short Fuse as he and five other Joes ran over to Duke and clutched the Armadillo's broken roll-bar. "Is that what Cobra has been working on all this time?"

Duke stared at the molten wreckage, wishing he had an aspirin. "Yeah. Yeah, I guess so."

Breaker came running down to the Armadillo from the M.M.S. "Duke! Duke, do you see that?" called out the Joe Communications Trooper.

Angered, Duke barked back, "Of course I see that, Breaker! Could I miss something like that?"

"N-no, sir, not the Tomahawk. Over there!" Breaker pointed down the hill towards the Incan Outpost. Duke turned around and tried to figure out what his fellow Joe was talking about. Squinting, he picked out a group of men walking out of the outpost and slowly lumbering their way up the hill.

"Short Fuse, give me your binoculars!" ordered the First Sergeant.

"Yes, sir."

Squinting again, but this time through binoculars, Duke quickly picked out the group of men—it was Grunt, Chuckles and Crankcase…carrying Mainframe, Bazooka and Alpine!

"Let's move it Joes! We've got injured men trying to move across the field, and we've got to save them! Go! Go! Go!" Without even asking a question, the group of Joes by the Armadillo scrambled behind Duke and followed him down the hill towards the escapees.

Thanks to the destruction of the Tomahawk and the A.P.C., there wasn't much activity in this part of the field anymore, so the Joes made it across a-okay. Duke waved to Grunt, who weakly waved back, and gently set Mainframe's body down.

"Dear god am I glad to see you guys." Grunt grabbed Duke's hand in a handshake.

"It's good to see that you all are still kickin'." said Duke as he grabbed Mainframe's limp body from the Joe Infantry Trooper and heaved it onto his shoulders. Other Joes did the same with Bazooka and Alpine's bodies.

"More or less." replied Grunt. "Was a helluva fight getting Mainframe and Bazooka out of the base."

Duke stopped walking and looked over. "You had to find them?"

Confused, Grunt studied his commanding sergeant. "Y-yeah. We blasted our ways all through that shiny snake pit."

Then it hit him.

"You want us to take you back?"

"I just need one of you. If we're going to stop the Matrix Cannon, we have to do it from the inside, not from out here."

After heaving out a sigh, Grunt nodded. "Okay, I'll go with you."

"Thanks. Beach Head! Throw Grunt your assault-rifle!"

"Like hell I will!"

"Do it! And now you're in charge of the field operations."

"Swell."

"Short-Fuse, Breaker, Repeater, you're with me."

"Yo Joe!"

6.

"D-Destro! What did you just do?" gasped Cobra Commander as he slowly walked into the top-floor chamber, nervously clutching his custom pistol.

As he flicked control switches, Destro smiled and didn't bother to look down at the Commander. "I am insuring _our_ destinies, my dear Cobra Commander. The G.I. Joe team cannot possibly resist the power of the Matrix Cannon. With it, I will erase them from the Earth, once and for all."

"You're beginning to sound like me, Destro." growled the Head Snake. "We did not build the Matrix Cannon as a battlefield weapon. I want to use it to blackmail the governments of the world, not obliterate them!"

Looking down at his facemasked ally, Destro's anger radiated through his own facemask as he shook his fist. "You have lost your passion, Commander! You ask me to help you conquer the world, but when the time comes to claim your prize, you back down!"

Cobra Commander hissed in anger, looked over at the Techno-Viper by the computer-station and shot him. He then aimed his pistol up at Destro. "Get down from there, Destro. Now! Cobra is my Terrorist Organization, and it will be run my way!"

Staring at each other, the two lords of terrorism sat in near dead silence, with only the sounds of battle rumbling from the outside to break the eerie calm. "Very well, Commander," said Destro after a minute or two, "I will come down." As he climbed off of the seat, he flicked a switch, and the Matrix Cannon fired!

Stepping back in shock, Cobra Commander looked up at the insane amount of activity being performed by the cannon. The blast was invisible, but it was more than obvious that something big was happening. Lights were flashing at a mad rate and every ounce of moisture in the area was evaporating. The gateway out of the mountain was glowing red with heat, as if a giant flame was pouring through it.

Imitating a fireman, Destro slid down the thick pillar that held the Matrix Cannon up in the air. "The cannon is all yours, Commander. It is doing exactly what we agreed upon: charring the Brazilian Rain Forest. I have lived up to my part of the deal. Can you?" With that, the Lord of Castle Destro briskly stormed out of the top-floor-chamber and disappeared into the hallway.

"You bucket-headed buffoon! Get back here!" screamed the Head Snake as the realization of what was happening hit him. He fired multiple gunshots into the wall, then turned back to the cannon. What could he do? Looking around the room, he soon saw the Matrix Cannon's computer-station. He ran over to it, kicking the Techno-Viper's body out of the way and frantically looked for an "Off" button. As with any complex device, it is never that simple. His next choice of actions was to just begin hitting buttons like crazy—and he did.

Warning lights began flashing and the main computer monitor filled with the words "Warning! Power Overload Activated! Critical Destruction in 10 Seconds!" Cursing as loud as he could, Cobra Commander watched the "10" countdown to a "9", then an "8", then a "7", then a "6."

There was only one option left.

Picking up his pistol from where he dropped it, Cobra Commander began shooting at the Matrix Cannon. The bullets from his gun simply ricocheted from the cannon, slamming themselves into the walls of the top-floor-chamber.

In a hysteric state, Cobra Commander looked back to the computer screen. It now read "Critical Destruction in 2 Seconds!"

The Leader of the Cobra Terrorist Organization dropped to his knees and cried out "No! I can't die this way!"

Then the room went gray.

7.

Five minutes earlier:

Leveling his AK-47, Snake Eyes slowly crept back up the power generator's access ladder and examined the room. The chamber was still bright, but now it was all green. The ground floor was totally devoid of any activity, save the steaming coffee. But the cross-room walkway: it was still the best place to…

Movement.

At the far right end of the walkway the silhouette of an arm raising a sub-machine-gun lifted itself above the railing and swung itself towards Snake Eyes. The ninja dropped the explosive and jumped off of the power generator. He landed a bit awkwardly, but still managed to perform a painful roll across the floor as a rapid burst of fire chased him across the room. Forced into a crooked stance due to his bodily pain, Snake Eyes fired back, quickly chasing back the silhouetted assailant, who ran towards a ladder and slid down it. The Joe's AK-47 ate up its ammunition and the commando tossed it to the ground. After reloading his sub-machine-gun, the assailant charged at Snake Eyes, shooting a constant stream of bullets.

The black ninja dove behind a generator and crashed into a tool chest. Now with his ears ringing in pain, he slid open a drawer and pulled out a handful of wrenches.

"Thanks for the help, Snake Eyes!" called the attacking Cobra. The sound of an empty clip hitting the floor echoed through the room, followed by the slap of a full clip. Snake Eyes peeked around the generator and saw Firefly, now bathed in lime-green light, reach up onto the engine, grab the bomb and briskly move towards the exit door.

Running out across the smooth metallic floor, Snake Eyes threw the stainless-steel wrenches like awkward shuriken, pummeling Firefly's green body. The blunt metal tools did little harm, thanks to his Kevlar-protected costume, but they certainly grabbed his attention. Now running at the Cobra Saboteur, Snake Eyes raised a sledgehammer.

"Are you insane? Get away from me!" screamed Firefly, but it was too late. The Joe ninja swung the hammer at the Cobra's gun, sending it flying across the room. As Firefly stepped back, Snake Eyes completed a 360-degree turn with the hammer and slammed it into the Cobra's chest. The sound of cracking ribs was quickly followed by the sight of the saboteur flying five feet through the air, then crashing onto the ground and skidding twelve feet into a computer station, where a cup of hot coffee dumped onto his unconscious body.

Snake Eyes dropped the hammer and picked up the bomb where Firefly had dropped it. He walked over to his foe's body to make sure that he was alive.

All good.

Firefly wore enough body armor to protect a tank. But even a tank could be dented by a sledgehammer. A Cobra tank, anyways.

8.

"Up here, Duke."

"Thanks, Grunt."

As First Sergeant of the G.I. Joe Team, Duke had been through more Cobra bases than anybody, except maybe Snake Eyes. Their defense layouts all had one similarity: Cobra Commander kept his command center in the middle, surrounded by Siegies (CG's, a.k.a. Crimson Guardsmen), and once you found _them_, you knew you had hit paydirt.

But this place was a graveyard. A complete ghost town. Apparently every Cobra assigned to it was out fighting the Joe team, and frankly, doing a lousy job. But still, the power had just gone out, and if not for Grunt, Duke would probably be running in circles.

Of course, he would never admit that.

"We never went up to the Matrix Cannon's location, but there were plenty of signs telling us which way to go."

"I'm impressed that you found your way out in the dark." praised Repeater.

"Thanks. It was a team effort. And it wasn't dark for too long."

"Like now." griped Short-Fuse.

"I have a feeling the power is off for good." said Duke. "Let's keep moving."

Down the hall, Destro sat crouched with his arm wrapped around a beautiful black-haired woman.

"More Joes!" whispered the Baroness.

"Yes." replied Destro. After a moment he softly laughed. "They are the Commander's problem, now. I have the C.L.A.W.s re-fueled and we can make our escape."

"But what of the Matrix Cannon?" gasped the Cobra Queen as she stood up and dusted herself off.

Speaking through a clamped jaw, Destro growled, "It is yet another failure due to the incompetence of Cobra Commander."

"If you hate him so, why do you work with him?" The clacking of the Baroness' heels echoed as she walked down the hall.

"As he so eloquently pointed out, my dear Baroness: he has the resources that I need to perform my work. In short, I need him." Destro's head drooped forward.

Slowly petting her lover's metal head, the Baroness smiled. "Then perhaps you should find ways of achieving greater…'independence.'"

Destro smiled and embraced his love. "Perhaps." After a short kiss, Destro and the Baroness left the Cobra Incan Temple Outpost.

9.

The top-floor-chamber was surprisingly dry, and smelled like burnt steel. Rainfall from gray skies outside was finally beginning to let-up, so only a sprinkle was blowing through the huge hole in the mountainside.

"Doesn't this place look charming?" joked Short-Fuse.

Duke looked around the blackened and wreckage-laden room, and quickly recognized what must be the Matrix Cannon. The futuristic-looking zapper sat perched atop the elevator with a huge cable tailing out from its rear and leading to a rather sickly-looking computer-station.

"Somebody must have got pretty mad at the Matrix Cannon, Duke." reported Breaker. "The computer controls are smashed and shot-up. I can't tell what was going on without any power, but it must have been big."

"I don't want any power getting into this place. Cut every power line you can find." ordered the First Sergeant. But mere moments after the Joe team got started, Breaker turned back to duke, popped a bubble-gum bubble and handed him his headphones.

"Priority One from General Hawk, sir!"

"Thanks, Breaker. Duke here, General." As the Joe Communications Trooper chewed his gum, he watched Duke listen to Hawk, and saw his facial expressions drop lower and lower. When the Sergeant handed the headset back, he was extremely somber. "I need to head outside, guys. Keep working."

"Yes, sir."


	11. Redirections

**Chapter 11**

**Redirections**

Controlling his heavy breathing was getting more and more difficult as Cobra Commander sat in the shadows behind the lockers on the far side of the top-floor chamber. The facemask was becoming unbearable.

Almost as atrocious was the scene before him: a squad of G.I. Joes were searching through the massive top-floor chamber and there wasn't a thing he could do to stop them. His gun lied on the floor over ten yards away from the pillar that the Matrix Cannon sat upon.

That damn Matrix Cannon. Thankfully it didn't explode like it said it would. Somehow the power to the chamber cut out right before the point of eruption, saving the life of the hysterical Commander.

But that was the past. Time to move on. Now there were three Joes sniffing around the Incan Temple Outpost and he intended to get rid of them. Well, at least distract them long enough for him to make an escape. There, on the floor: Destro's crowbar. That could make a good weapon. Of course it was six feet away. How could he--?

"Hey? What's that shining thing over there?"

One of the Joes pointed over to the lockers.

The sunlight that now poured through the breaking clouds reflected off of the terrorist's faceplate, revealing his position peaking around the burnt storage units. The other Joes turned around and quickly recognized the shining metal mask, but were too stunned with confusion—after all, what were the odds of finding your greatest enemy hiding behind a busted-up locker—to take an immediate action.

Enraged by his blunder, Cobra Commander stormed out from his hiding spot towards the crowbar and snatched it from the puddle-strewn floor. He then bee-lined for Repeater, who was just realizing what was going on. The Commander smashed the crowbar against the barrel of the Joe's machine-gun, knocking its handle out of his enemy's hands; but since the gun was mounted on the Joe's belt, it did not drop to the floor. Now unable to shoot back, Repeater couldn't stop Cobra Commander from swinging the bar into his arm, shattering bones and forcing him to shriek in pain.

Spinning around as Repeater fell to his knees, the enraged Cobra raised the crowbar and laughed in a metallic echo, casting aside his standard hissing chuckle. Short-Fuse and Breaker were in an even greater level of shock; they did not know who they were fighting anymore. Could Cobra Commander could act this insane?

Short-Fuse was the first to react, and drew his pistol. He aimed at the raging Cobra and fired, but the snake ran for cover behind the Matrix Cannon's elevator. Breaker grabbed his M-16 off the computer station and aimed it at the pillar.

"Come out, Cobra Commander," ordered Breaker, "You can't defeat both of us."

Suddenly, the crowbar went flying across the room and smashed into the lockers. Short-Fuse and Breaker turned towards the lockers; out of reflex, Breaker fired a short burst.

"Breaker, look out!" cried Short-Fuze, but it was too late. Cobra Commander had run out from behind the pillar and charged the G.I. Joe Communications Trooper and tackled him. The two men rolled on the floor until Cobra Commander managed to slam Breaker's fist to the floor and knock the M-16 away. He then wrenched the Joe's arm behind his back and sat him on the floor as a shield against Short-Fuze's pistol.

"Let him go, Commander! I'm not afraid to shoot!" warned the enraged Mortar Soldier.

"So you really want to kill your friend?" mocked Cobra Commander. Breaker griped in pain as the Head Snake slowly stood up, pulling the Joe up by his twisted arm. "I really doubt that." The Commander looked towards the door out of the top-floor chamber. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I will be leaving. But just to be safe, I'll be taking Breaker with me. After all, I wouldn't want you getting all heroic on me now, would I?"

Short-Fuze grit his teeth as Cobra Commander made for the exit, pulling Breaker out with him. No Joe had ever seen the Head Snake fight like this before. The Commander didn't have a gun, but there were other ways to kill a man, and this psychotic upgrade of the Cobra leader probably knew a few.

Upon reaching the hallway, Cobra Commander began a brisk walk towards the stairway. Breaker didn't fight for his freedom, but he didn't make it easy for the Commander to pull him down the hall, either.

"You fought pretty intensely in there, Commander." said Breaker, dragging his feet and kicking over everything he passed in the hall. "I didn't know you had it in you."

"There is a lot about me you don't know, Joe." he replied, laughing in an echo again.

"Like what?"

Cobra Commander paused for a second, then shook his head. "Nice try. All you need to know is that you have lost, and Cobra will be your supreme ruler some day. You should show me more respect." The Commander snickered.

"A lot of people have made that claim throughout history. They usually end up beheaded or committing suicide."

Grabbing him by the shoulders, Cobra Commander slammed Breaker into the wall. "That's because they lacked the global vision! Cobra has a worldwide network that provides the strength and intelligence to make such a claim!"

Drawing upon energies or a foolishness that dared him to press on, Breaker leaned his head forward and yelled back, "Intelligence? I call it stupidity! You can't even control this stupid organization you run! Where's your loyal servants now, Commander? You don't look very powerful to me!"

With that, Cobra Commander belted the Joe Communications Trooper in the stomach. As he hunched over, the Commander decked him in the face with a left hook. Once Breaker collapsed to the floor in pain, the leader of Cobra began kicking and beating the blood-covered Joe as hard as he could.

"You…you will show…_you will show your supreme ruler respect!_"

Short-Fuze ran out of the top-floor chamber and skidded into the hallway. "What the hell is going on?"

Safely thirty-yards away, Cobra Commander stepped away from Breaker's fetal-position body, laughed in a metallic echo and limped down the stairway. Short-Fuze ran to his teammate and stretched him out on the floor.

"Oh, god, man. How much did he break?" the Mortar Trooper asked; but Breaker didn't respond. He was still breathing, but unconscious.

"Don't worry, Breaker ol' buddy, I won't leave ya." Looking down the stairs, Short-Fuze aimed his pistol down the steps. "If I ever see Cobra Commander again," the angry Joe swore to himself, "I'll kill him."

1.

The scene outside of the Cobra Incan Temple Outpost had changed dramatically since Duke had gone inside. The rain had departed and large amounts of sunshine was breaking through the clouds. An even greater amount of wreckage was strewn across the steep, grassy mountain slopes. Two long columns of Vipers of various designation and uniform colors were marching down the road, escorted by a handful of Joes.

This battle was over. Unfortunately, the day's work was far from done.

Grouped over by a landed Dragonfly sat Grunt, Crankcase and Alpine. They were all watching intensely as Lifeline fought to save the lives of Bazooka and Mainframe. The two Joes were laying on stretchers; Bazooka's was already attached to the left landing skid of the Dragonfly.

"How are they?" Duke asked when he approached the landed assault helicopter.

Lifeline shook his head. "I don't know what Cobra did to them, but they are out cold. I'll need to get them back to the PIT and run a few tests on them before I can say what happened for sure; but I'd guess biological experimentation."

Duke's jaw about hit the ground. "You're joking!"

"I wish I were, but I can't seem to help them here."

"It's a possibility, Duke." said Grunt. "We found them in the back room of a medical center in the outpost."

The First Sergeant whipped his glare around back at the outpost. "Damn I want to get in there!"

"We leavin' or somethin', Duke?" asked Alpine.

"Not you guys, I'm afraid. Lifeline, I need you to get these wounded prepped for flight and flown back to Lima. The five of you need to get back to the PIT, A.S.A.P. General Hawk wants to see you."

"We do something wrong?" asked Crankcase.

"I can't say, but I wouldn't go back expecting a tickertape parade."

The three still-standing wounded Joes hung their heads low in thought, and Duke slapped Grunt on the shoulder, then turned around and began walking across the battlefield.

"Duke!" The Joe First Sergeant looked to his right and saw Beachhead jogging towards him.

"Beachhead, nice work. Looks like everything is taken care of here."

"Thank you. Yeah, the reinforcements helped us make short work of these Cobra scum. We were done almost as soon as you entered the temple."

"Good. I need to call a meeting of all available team members. Anybody who isn't escorting a prisoner or has to fly back for a refueling needs to meet by the Tomahawk wreckage in five minutes."

"Important stuff?"

Duke gave him a "What do you think?" look.

"Yeah. Got it. Hey, you guys! Don't just stand there! Help me out!" Beachhead walked off to round up a couple Joes to help him find everyone in the area. Duke began a slow walk over to the molten ruin of the helicopter and A.P.C.

The globs of molten steel had cooled off now, looking like rock-hard mucus draining off the sides of the personnel carrier. There wasn't any recognizable wreckage of the Tomahawk. It had been completely transformed into metallic sludge by the Matrix Cannon, and burnt up half of the A.P.C. with its liquid crash.

The Joes walked up to Duke, all looking a bit fatigued, and very wet. A few were moderately burned. He looked them over with a smile on his face.

"Excellent work today, guys," complimented Duke, who quickly erased his smile, "but our job is only just beginning. The stray shot from the Matrix Cannon that fired northeast of here has set a considerable amount of Brazilian Rain Forest on fire."

Looks of shock, disbelief and anger spread across the group of war-weary soldiers.

"So I take it we're now on our way out to fight a massive fire?" asked Sci-Fi.

Duke nodded. "Apparently Cobra's scheme was to hold the countries of the world hostage by threatening to burn up the rain forests with the Matrix Cannon. But thanks to the hard work of Scarlett and Snake Eyes' team, we caught them before the blackmail could take place."

"But it looks like the big Snake got his shot off anyways." growled Clutch.

"Yeah." replied Duke with a grain of salt, "He did." The First Sergeant began pointing to the Joe vehicles. "Everybody find something to ride on and let's get moving! It's going to be a long trip, but we need to get there as soon as we can."

The Joes slowly walked over to their vehicles, grumbling new hatreds for Cobra and rubbing sore wounds. Duke looked down to his battle damaged and mud-stricken Armadillo and sighed. It was in sad shape, but still operable—if he applied a lot of loving to it.

A voice called over to him, "Hey Duke!" The First Sergeant turned to see Airborne standing next to a Sky Hawk parked about twenty feet away. "You can have control of my Sky Hawk if you want! I'll just ride the skis!"

Smiling at Airborne, who was pulling his gear from the Sky Hawk's hatch, Duke ran over to him. As he did, his he got a very bad feeling in his stomach. "Thanks Airborne, I'll take it. But I have another job for you. There are a couple Joes still in that Outpost, and I need you to see what's holding them up. I've provided a slick ride for you to take them to the fire on." Duke grinned as he pointed to the Armadillo mini-tank.

Frowning, Airborne replied, "You sure I can't just take one of the H.I.S.S. tanks instead?"

"I'll pretend I didn't hear you say that." Duke saluted his fellow Joe as he climbed into the Sky Hawk and closed the hatch. Turning back around, the First Sergeant frowned at the Incan Temple Outpost. "What could be taking Breaker, Short-Fuze and Repeater so long?" he thought to himself.

Blowing rock and debris in every direction, the hyper-active, screeching jets of the Sky Hawk lifted Duke into the air and slowly rotated, directing the jet craft's thrust behind itself, rocketing the First Sergeant off towards a new challenge in the Rain Forests of Brazil.

Grabbing his XM-16 rifle with both hands, Airborne walked across the battlefield to the small entrance at the side of the main doors. As he reached for the handle, the door swung open and a man in a bloody black uniform stepped out.

"Snake Eyes!" The Helicopter Assault Trooper grabbed his teammate as the Commando fell forward and collapsed into his arms. "My god, man, what has happened to you?" Blood was still pouring from the slash wounds gaping across Snake Eyes' body. No longer wearing his facemask, the agony in his eyes was completely readable to Airborne, who gently set his teammate to the ground.

Pulling out a radio from his parachute-pack, Airborne made a panic-stricken call. "Mayday! Mayday! Medical Evac immediately at the Cobra Temple. Critically wounded Joe on the ground!" Uninterested in identifying himself or listening for a reply, Airborne tossed the radio away from himself. "Don't worry, Snake, help is on the way."

2.

The beat-up old truck rattled as it drove away from Cusco, ever carrying the question "How does that thing stay together?" Still, it handled the mountain roads of Peru quite well, just as it did when it was driving to Cusco less than two days before. This time, however, it only carried two passengers.

Destro sat quietly behind the steering wheel, growing more and more frustrated as he struggled along the bumpy road. His growing headache was magnified by the negative energy hitting him from the passenger's side. Still abhorring the dog-odor in the truck, the Baroness rode shotgun, but in complete silence. It was a game of word-free defiance that created an invisible rope of tension, crackling as the strain against it grew to unbearable levels. Eventually, the two ego-driven gluttons of power would have to break the rope.

They did.

"You didn't have to do that to Franco." snarled the Baroness.

"And what would you have me do? Pay him for his truck?" barked back Destro.

"No, of course not, but…that was brutal." Baroness crossed her arms.

"He knew too much. And his barn needed to be destroyed anyways. Those damn Crimson Twins had stocked it like an ammo dump." Destro punched the roof of the truck.

"You're a brutal man at times, Destro!"

As the CEO of M.A.R.S. turned to argue with his lover, a light, rocketing sound swept above the truck, shocking the passengers. Destro slammed the breaks as a C.L.A.W. lowered itself to the ground about fifteen feet in front of the sad old vehicle. Piloting the jet-pack: Cobra Commander.

It was actually a fairly formidable sight: Cobra Commander, holding an AK-47, with a C.L.A.W. strapped to his back, blowing dust in a wide swirl behind him.

Destro popped open the door of the truck and stepped out. "Commander! What are you doing here? What do you want?"

Remaining dead silent, Cobra Commander cocked the assault rifle, then aimed it at the truck.

"No! Commander, please, we can talk!" cried Destro as he jumped away from the truck.

But it was too late. The Head Snake opened fire, pummeling the front end of the shaky old vehicle, obliterating its radiator and front wheels. The Baroness opened the passenger door and jumped out as the Commander kept shooting until his ammo clip was empty.

Destro laid on the ground with hands covering his head, waiting for the shooting to stop. Once it did, he rolled over and aimed his gauntlet rockets towards the attacker…but it was too late. Cobra Commander tossed down the rifle and blasted off back into the sky with the C.L.A.W.

Baroness walked over to Destro, who sat quietly on the ground with his arms on his knees. "Well, that was interesting." She offered down her hand.

Grabbing the elegant hand, the weapons manufacturer pulled himself up. "Yes…but that wasn't

Cobra Commander."

"What?" asked his lover as she dusted his behind off.

"I've known the Commander for decades, and he's never had so much gumption." Taking a few steps forward, Destro stroked his metallic chin in deep thought. "That felt more like…"

"Who" demanded the Baroness. "You must tell me!"

Destro turned around and stared through her. "I have been tricked me before, and I would be an arrogant fool to think that it will never happen again. It must have been Zartan pretending to be Cobra Commander back at the Temple, but it wasn't Zartan who just attacked us. No, this whole Matrix Cannon excursion is becoming a twisted mess, and I am a buffoon for not recognizing the destructive equation before it had ruined all that I had struggled to achieve."

Frowning, the Baroness scuffled dirt with her boots. She still wanted to know who attacked them, but there was a new question to be asked. "'Destructive equation?'"

Destro reached into the front seat of the pick-up truck and pulled out a pair of AK-47 assault rifles. "Yes, my dear, Tomax and Xamot. They have endeavored to block our paths and provide us with delays throughout our journey to the Cobra Incan Temple Outpost. Then, once the Matrix Cannon was complete, they mysteriously disappeared from the site, leaving everyone to the fate of the Joe team."

"So you think the twins left Zartan behind to fool us?" asked Baroness with her hands on her hips.

Handing his love a rifle, the weapons manufacturer replied, "Of course not. That mercenary scumball would never work for the Crimson Twins."

"Then who attacked us?"

Destro smiled. "In due time, my dear, in due time." The Baroness blew a puff of frustrated breath into the air. "I can say that I know of the one factor that connects all four, well, all five of these men."

"Cobra Commander?"

"Yes, Cobra Commander."

"And you're sure that the Commander was never at the outpost?" Baroness slung the AK-47 over her shoulder.

"He may have been, but if so, he left with the twins, leaving Zartan to act in his place, making me believe that I had control of the Matrix Cannon." Destro quickly stopped talking as a shocking thought gripped him.

"What is wrong, my dear?" asked the Baroness.

"He's built a double. That slithering snake built a double!" Destro punched the side of the truck hard enough to make a small hole. "The twins were here to copy my work…no…check my work. To see if it was operable! Once it was confirmed they left!"

Baroness walked over and grabbed onto the truck. "That means he must have had a spy in our plant in Libya. Every bit of work you did was being sent to the Commander…on Cobra Island!"

"Yes…damn that greedy…we must hurry, my dear. I have underestimated the Commander and his minions. He is truly a genius at crime. But soon we will see how well his skills hold up when he is fighting for his life!"

The Baroness fretted, "Bold words. How do you intend to impose this test of the Commander's skill?" She pointed to the truck. "Our disguised method of transportation is destroyed!"

"Subterfuge is no longer necessary." Destro tapped the side of his facemask. "IG-25, distance from my GPS?" Destro's head nodded as he silently received satellite communication through his helmet. Baroness anxiously waited for her lover to share the information with her. After roughly thirty seconds, Destro's hand came down from the side of his head, and he smiled. "A Dominator will come to pick us up. It is less than ten kilometers from here."

"Have Iron Grenadiers been covering you from a distance all throughout this debacle?"

"Of course. A light strike force always protects my 'backside', if you will."

"And where were they when the Commander or Zartan or whoever it was shot up our truck?" barked the infuriated Intelligence Operative.

Destro clutched her wrists, looked into her eyes and smiled. "My dear, we were never in any real danger from that buffoon. You are quite capable of defending yourself, and if need be, I can provide further protection."

Flattered, if not still a bit agitated, the Baroness decided to be silent as the sound of the Dominator's loud, beating propeller echoed throughout the mountainsides. The curiously overweight-looking vehicle swung around a mountaintop and headed straight for the lone souls standing on the dusty roadway. In only a few minutes, the transformable helicopter/tank lowered its treads and landed; the new passengers climbed aboard a special three-seater, designed by Destro himself for moments such as this.

The three-bladed propeller thundered again as the bulky craft lifted upwards, and amidst a funnel of dust and a few flickering lights, Destro and the Baroness flew off to Lima; roughly four times faster than they had been going in Franco's battered old truck.

3.

General Clayton "Hawk" Abernathy sat at his desk, tapping a pencil and grimacing at the group of file papers sitting in front of him. Where had he gone wrong? Was Cobra getting too powerful, or were his crack, top-of-the-line, number-one-in-the-world troops just getting too damn sloppy?

Flicking his pencil behind him, Hawk leaned forward and stared at the lone, injured Joe sitting in front of his desk. "Here we are again, Scarlett, but this time, it's worse. Chuckles, Mainframe, Grunt, Crankcase, Alpine, Bazooka. You kept requesting more assistance. I knew you wouldn't irresponsibly make such requests, so I gave it to you. But each and every one of you were entrusted with important tasks to fulfill on this mission."

"Yeah, but Hawk, listen--."

"Not now!" The General leaned back, just a little angrier. "I realize that this was a difficult mission. Hell, I have word that Snake Eyes is in intensive care, barely hanging on to his life! But I have to say something! A hundred-thousand acres of Brazilian rain forest is burning today because Cobra completed the Matrix Cannon and fired it. Do you realize how much damage that is?" Scarlett's eyes began to water. "Not to sound insensitive, but I have to think of the team as well. I've had a hell of a time keeping it together. A lot of big brass in the Pentagon don't think we're needed anymore. After this last mess-up, I don't think I can convince them otherwise."

The door to Hawk's office burst open and Dial-Tone came crashing in.

"I said no interruptions of any kind!" barked Hawk.

"I'm sorry sir, but you have to see this one!" Dial-Tone pointed a fat remote control at the back wall of the room and clicked a button. The fine, finished oak panels raised up, revealing a video screen. Dial-Tone clicked another couple of buttons, and Cobra Commander's image appeared on the monitor. It was a very melodramatic picture of the Commander sitting upon his throne, surrounded by flaming torches and heavily armed Vipers. Curiously, Tomax and Xamot stood at the base of the throne. Since Dial-Tone had to run to Hawk's office, the Commander was heard speaking mid-sentence.

"…of mass destruction. It is called…the Matrix Cannon! The same device used to burn the rain forest is now capable of destroying any city or site on the planet Earth!" Pausing to let the shock sink in, Cobra Commander leaned forward. "The forest was just a small test of the weapon's power. If I am not deemed ruler of every country on Earth within twelve hours, I will destroy a city. And to help quicken the pace, I won't say which one. Twelve hours! Cobraaaa!" The Vipers saluted the passionate call from their leader, then the transmission ceased.

"Good god." gasped Scarlett. "But we…we destroyed the cannon, right?"

Hawk slowly turned around from the back wall. "Apparently not. It must have just been a prototype."

"What do we do?" asked Scarlett.

"We're going to have to send a strike force to destroy the cannon. Everybody we've got. Dial-Tone, rally the troops. We're going to Cobra Island!" Hawk stood up and raised his arm, but the Joe Communications Trooper stood tapping the side of the remote control. "What's wrong, Dial-Tone?"

"Um, well, you see. With the War on Terror going on, a lot of our men were transferred to the Middle East. And, well, you sent all of our remaining troops to South America to help fight the fires."

Hawk sat back down. "So you're saying?"

"We're just about all that's left. Except for Doc and Law." Dial-Tone gave a dopey, crooked smile, but it did no good.

Scarlett dared to speak. "Hawk, my wounded team is flying to the PIT as we speak."

Hawk turned to his right as his mind was engulfed in panic-stricken thought. Were a bunch of wounded, ready-to-be-court-martialed troops his only hope? He then gave a one-eyed stare at Scarlett.

"It looks like you all get a chance to redeem yourselves. Gear up with everything you've got plus a few hundred pounds more. This is gonna be hell."

"Yo Joe!" she cheered.

Before she could leave, Hawk stopped his Intelligence Operative. "Scarlett, hold up." She sat back down. "Everyone is pretty beat up, especially Mainframe and Bazooka. Do you think those guys can handle it?"

Scarlett looked at the pictures of Hawk standing with groups of Joes, weapons raised in a cheer and smiling like children at Christmas. "We were pretty torn up on this mission, Hawk, but we weren't taken out. We kept pushing. About the only person you could say that gave up was me. My wound is still so bad there isn't a chance that I can run during this impending strike. But you know what? We're Joes. G.I. Joes. We're the best because we can take it harder than anyone else in the world. We might not be running at one-hundred-percent, but you'll still have the best damn strike-force ever assembled."

Hawk leaned back in his chair. "Go gear up."

4.

The flames in the torches gently flickered away, the high-definition cameras were rolled out and the two-dozen lavishly-clad Vipers marched out of the throne room. Soon the massive chamber was in near-darkness again, with two Crimson Guardsmen standing at the door and Cobra Commander sitting high atop his perch, deep in his own kinds of twisted thought.

Today however, there were two extra guests in the room, who walked in complete sync with one another as they approached the throne wearing their blue uniforms, complimented with silver boots and a red sash.

"That was quite the performance." said Tomax.

"Yes, I was rather gripping, wasn't I? I should do more broadcasts like that. They are loads of fun."

"You can't take over every television channel, Commander. This isn't a cartoon!" pointed out Xamot.

"We can only broadcast your threats over the Cobra Island transmitters--."

"Yes I know!" the Commander cut off Tomax. "The only ones who see us are the governments of the world who keep us 'tuned in' for security reasons, and of course some small towns on the southern coast of the United States. But you can rest assured, my threat was seen by every civilized country of the world."

"Even if your message didn't reach every ear…" began Tomax.

"…the entire world must know about Brazil by now." completed Xamot.

"Exactly!" Cobra Commander stood up and pointed to Tomax. "I want you to keep an eye on the G.I. Joe team. They are going to respond to my threat before sunrise." Turning to face the scarred twin, he pointed again. "I am giving you a much more difficult task! I want you to find Destro and keep track of him. He will be as ready to assault Cobra Island as the Joe team is!"

Bowing, the twins said obligatory words of praise and left the throne room. Cobra Commander sat back down and turned on his great chair's video monitor.

"Now," he mumbled to himself, "where is that moron Zartan?"

5.

Stuffing the last piece of his Cobra Commander disguise into a brown paper bag, Zartan sighed. Looking up at the cracked mirror on the gas station's wall, he splashed water on his face, then pulled on his cowl. "Thank god that's over with." He said to himself. "I really need a new job."

Stepping from the stinky bathroom into the dark, new-moon night, the Dreadnok leader froze in his steps. Three Night-Vipers stood in front of him with their weapons drawn. One of them, wearing an officer's insignia, clicked on a radio attached to his headset.

"Confirmed, my Lord. Subject has left the bathroom and is now in custody." Two more green-and-black-suited Night-Vipers, ones that Zartan hadn't even seen, grabbed him by the arms and quickly ensnared him in handcuffs.

"Do you realize what you are doing? Do you know who I am?" warned the Dreadnok leader. Without breaking pace, the Night-Viper officer shined a bright light in Zartan's face.

"We're sorry to do this, sir, but we're under orders. All hail Cobra Commander." With that, another Night-Viper walked over to Zartan carrying a small monitor. A cable ran from the monitor to a small satellite dish on the Viper's shoulder. Cobra Commander's image was on the monitor.

"Zartan!" cheered the Commander, "So good to see you made it! Things were definitely getting a bit too hot down there."

Growling, Zartan gave little respect in his tone. "You gave me no indication that the Joe team was about to attack the outpost! I thought I was just there to throw off Destro!"

"Well. You can't blame me for all the weak links in our communications system. Please understand I fully acknowledge how bravely and skillfully you acted down there. There could even be a bonus in it for you! If you'll do me one more little favor."

"So is that why you have me in shackles?" barked Zartan, "So I'll listen to your precious 'bonus' idea? Forget it, Commander. I'm through working down here."

"Ah, but you won't have to work down there anymore. I know what you did to Destro's truck, and I appreciate it immensely. In fact, I need you to do it again." Cobra Commander leaned forward. "But this time, I need you to hit the passengers."

Zartan turned his head a tad to the right and looked puzzled. "Commander, I've been hiding in Cusco for a day. I didn't do anything to Destro's truck."

6.

Crashing against harsh, wind-blasted waves, the U.S. Navy frigate _G.I. Jane_ raced on a direct course across the Gulf of Mexico from Miami to Cobra Island. The small, yet heavily modified warship was a staple of the G.I. Joe Naval power. The light carrier U.S.S. Flagg couldn't be everywhere at once. Right now, it was in the Indian Ocean coordinating efforts with Air Force patrols throughout Afghanistan. But the _Jane_ was always kept within striking distance of Cobra Island, for an emergency just like today's.

Less than a mile away, a Coast Guard HH-65 Dolphin rescue helicopter knifed through the winds as it flew directly to the G.I. Joe frigate. Looking like a strange orange dot against the white, cloudy sky, the chopper slowed down and attempted to hover above the ship's landing deck, located at the stern.

Watching intensely from the bridge through a pair of binoculars, Hawk frowned and looked over to Dial-Tone, who was sitting at the com-station. "There's no way they can land?" he asked.

"No, sir. It's way too wet and windy." replied the Joe communications trooper.

Hawk lowered the binoculars. "Get a group of enlisted men around to the deck. We're going to have to drop the Joes out."

"Yes, sir."

A group of Navy enlisted men, borrowed from the Naval Air Station in Key West, Florida, soon stumbled out onto the splash-strewn deck. They were just a fraction of the large team gathered to operate the _G.I. Jane_ while the Joe team was in action on Cobra Island. Hawk disliked using enlisted Navy or Army men to help the Joe team out, but at the moment, the ends justified the means.

The side door of the HH-65 slid back and a rope dropped out. A Coast Guardsman slid down the rope and landed on the deck. After he waved up to the chopper, Grunt was hooked onto the rope, and he slid down the thirty-foot drop to the landing pad. The Coast Guardsman broke his fall and unhooked him from the rope. Soon Alpine, Chuckles and Crankcase were lowered, then the rope was pulled back up into the helicopter. Four enlisted men escorted the Joes below-decks. A small seat was hooked to the rope, and Mainframe sat on it. He weakly grabbed the rope, and was slowly lowered to the deck. The seat banged as a wave rocked the _G.I. Jane_ into it. Two enlisted men scooped Mainframe up, and slowly walked him off the deck. The rope was raised again and the process was repeated for Bazooka.

As soon as the Joes were off, the Coast Guardsman was lifted back up into the chopper, the door slid shut and the HH-65 flew back towards Key West.

Dial-Tone breathed a sigh of relief and looked over to Hawk. "All clear, sir. The Coast Guard is heading--.." Dial-Tone paused when he looked over; the only thing left by the window were the binoculars that Hawk had been using. "Sir?"

7.

Scarlett stumbled through the sickbay's door and raced into Alpine's arms. "Well, I guess I should think about sailing more often!" joked the mountain trooper.

"I'm so glad to see that you're all okay!" cried Scarlett as she hugged everyone in the room, even a Navy enlisted man who hadn't left the room yet.

"I'm glad to see that you're still going strong." said Grunt.

"Well, my leg isn't exactly up to par, but I can move. I didn't lose any bone; just a bit of muscle." Scarlett walked over to Mainframe and Bazooka, who were asleep in a pair of beds. "How are they?

"They actually woke up on the flight over here, but they're still pretty weak." explained Grunt. We're not sure what's wrong with them. Lifeline thinks it might be biological experimenting."

Scarlett went pale. "You're kidding."

The sickbay door opened and Doc walked in. "I hate to be a sourpuss, but I'm going to have to kick you out, Scarlett. I've got a lot of work to do to get you guys up to battle-readiness, and I can't have any distractions."

Scarlett slowly limped towards the door. "Come see me as soon as you can." she asked Grunt.

Grunt nodded as Doc shut the door. Doc turned around and looked about the small room. "Where are Chuckles and Crankcase?

8.

Leaning over the port-side railing, Chuckles painfully heaved and threw up. He had never gotten his sea legs, and it was doubtful that he ever would. He always travelled by air, and luckily had managed to avoid sea-missions for the Joe team—up till now.

Crankcase walked up to the ill Joe and slapped him on the back, triggering another round of vomiting. "You look a little green, there, Chucky!" joked the A.W.E.-Striker driver.

"Get away from me, asshole." growled Chuckles.

Taking in a deep sniff of air, Crankcase continued his pestering, "Ah. Smell that salty sea air! Kinda gets ya right here, down in the guts!" He began jiggling his stomach, which caused Chuckles to puke yet again. Crankcase began laughing. "You know, you don't look like you're enjoying yourself, my friend!"

Pushing himself from the railing, Chuckles jumped for Crankcase and swung a punch, which, since he was so sick, was a mile off-target.

"At ease!" barked General Hawk. Both men snapped straight up and took stances with their hands behind them, although Chuckles could only hold it for a second, then he ran back to the railing and coughed up some more disgust.

"What the hell is going on here?" ordered the general. Neither soldier knew who should speak first.

"It's…it's my fault, sir." admitted Crankcase. "Chuckles is sick and I came here to tease him. I apologize, sir."

Hawk studied both men, but tried not to look at Chuckles for too long. "Crankcase, that was pretty damn juvenile of you. I'm disappointed. Get below-decks and get to sickbay. And don't come up until I tell you."

"Yes sir!" Crankcase saluted, then ran inside the nearest doorway.

Hawk walked over to Chuckles. "Not to be rude, but don't you have enough sense to see Doc about getting some medication for your seasickness?"

"I'm sorry, sir, but I'm allergic to Dramamine, and it's a bit late to take any ginger."

"Ah, well. Stay strong. We'll get to dry land soon enough. I'll keep you busy up on deck. Sound good?" The general gave a heart-felt smile.

"Yes, sir. Thanks, Hawk."

As the general walked away, he cringed at the thought of how close they really were to Cobra Island. The fate of the world depended upon an under-manned frigate, a couple old-fashioned hovercrafts and a pair of experimental jet crafts, operated by just eleven top-of-the-line soldiers, many of whom were so badly wounded that they couldn't even run onto the beach.

No matter how hard he tried, the General just couldn't have high hopes for the planned assault.


	12. Debarkation

**Chapter 12**

**Debarkation**

1.

Soldiers ran in circles around the airfield, a mix of Coast Guard and Navy enlisted men frantically searching under every stone around the Naval Air Station at Key West. The muttering and scrambling of men was nearly deafening, but passed through the ears of Major Greg Reynolds totally unheard. Not even his heavy stomping and panting could be heard; he was a man in panic, fearful of the ramifications of what may have happened.

Lt. Sanchez ran up to him and saluted. "We haven't been able to find him, sir. We're moving the searches off base."

Feeling the hairs on his neck frizzle, the Major roared, "This is unacceptable! How the hell can a grown man disappear from the inside of an in-flight helicopter?"

"Well, sir, I—"

"This Coast Guard chopper just came in from the G.I. Jane out in the Gulf, and was supposed to bring us an injured G.I. Joe troop, correct?"

"Yes, sir. But he—"

Reynolds held his hand up. "And when the helicopter gets here, we find out there never was a body on the chopper but actually a lump of clothes underneath a blanket."

Sanchez sighed and nodded. "That's what happened, sir."

"So were we duped by the Joe team? Is this all some stupid joke?"

"I don't believe so, sir." replied Sanchez.

"And why is that?" asked the Major.

"Because the Joe who escaped is Snake Eyes, their elite commando."

All anger erased itself from Reynolds' face and was quickly replaced with amazement. "Oh. Well, uh…let's keep looking for a little longer, just for good measure. I better send that message out to General Abernathy, huh?"

"Yes, sir."

2.

Tapping his fingers on the side of his throne, Cobra Commander was tempted to stand up and start pacing the room again, but he had already been doing that for an hour and his feet were beginning to hurt.

Jumping in shock as the throne room door opened, he stood up and screamed at Tomax as the Crimson Guard Commander walked in. "There are only three hours left! Why haven't I heard a word from any countries of the world?"

"Patience, Commander. Terrorism is a game of resistance. You should know that. They want to hold out as long as they can."

Sitting back down, the Head Snake began tapping his fingers again. "Maybe. But this time I've got them! The Joe team is spread too thin to be able to stop us! And Destro can't ruin everything with his excessive caution. The ball is in my park now!"

"Don't be so sure, Commander." warned Tomax.

Sitting up straight, Cobra Commander took attention to the papers that the Siegie leader held. "What? What is wrong? What are you holding?"

"These are Crimson Guardsmen reports from Florida, and satellite scans of the Gulf of Mexico. The G.I. Joe team has been on the move for hours."

Cobra Commander ran down the steps from his throne. "What? Let me see those!"

Tomax handed over the papers and continued his report. "A handful of Joes arrived at the Key West NAS over eight hours ago. A short time after that, the G.I. Jane was launched to sea."

"But there can't possibly be enough Joes left to operate that sad excuse for a tugboat!"

Tomax pulled out a satellite chart. "If you'll take notice, an hour ago a Coast Guard rescue helicopter arrived at the Jane and dropped another half-dozen Joes on board."

"But where did they come from?"

"A few hours ago, a United States Air Force aircraft took off from Lima, Peru, and travelled at high speed to Miami. A Coast Guard HH-65 rescue 'copter then picked up the passengers from the Key West NAS and flew them straight out to the Jane."

After studying the pictures for a moment, Cobra Commander turned away. "Bah. It is still only a handful of Joes." The Cobra Leader sat back up on his throne. "They will never get past our defenses."

3.

The cramped office felt like a sardine can as every G.I. Joe on board squeezed into the room. Around the table, there were only six seats, occupied by Hawk, Scarlett, Dial-Tone, Doc, Mainframe and Bazooka. The latter two Joes were still too weak to stand up for very long. Around the table stood the rest of the team: Alpine, Crankcase, Grunt and Law. Hawk, Scarlett and Dial-Tone whispered to each other, but the rest of the room was dead silent.

After taking a sip of coffee, Hawk broke the silence. "Joes, I want to congratulate you on the effort you put forth towards capturing the Matrix Cannon. It is unfortunate that Chuckles has become ill and Snake Eyes is still in intensive care." Hawk sighed. "There were no intelligence reports revealing that Cobra Commander had a second device on Cobra Island. Please, do not blame yourselves for this bit of foul luck." The general's statement did little to calm the tension in the room. "Nevertheless, Cobra has once again declared war on the world, and we are the only force available to stop them."

"Sounds familiar." mumbled Alpine.

"I'm sorry that we don't have any time to train for this assault. I'm asking each and every one of you to perform at two-hundred-percent." Turning to each Joe as he fed them orders, Hawk pointed and talked with a stern voice. "Alpine, Law: you two will pilot the W.H.A.L.E.s. Alpine, take Bazooka, and Chuckles with you to man your guns. Law, you have Mainframe and Dial-Tone. Scarlett, you and I are flying the Sky Hawks. Crankcase will ride on my Sky Hawk's ski, and Grunt will go with Scarlett. Doc, I need you to stay on the Jane and coordinate the attack."

"And if the Jane is attacked?" asked the docter.

"There are guns on the deck. Use them." slapped back Hawk.

"I don't use guns, Hawk, you know that."

"That's an order." said the general, without looking at the doctor.

"Yes, sir." replied Doc, a bit disturbed.

"So what is our attack strategy, Hawk?" asked Grunt. "How are we going to get around the defenses?"

The general looked at a map on the table; it displayed a picture of Cobra Island. Pointing to the northeastern corner of the island, Hawk continued his briefing, "We aren't going around the defenses. We're going through them. Just south of this bay is the Terror Drome. I'll bet my life that Cobra Commander put the Matrix Cannon inside here."

"How so?" asked Chuckles.

"Because this northeastern position gives the Commander a clear shot to North America. And even though the Cobra Temple has a higher position on the mountainside, I don't think they'd risk firing it from there. Any mess-ups means goodbye to a third of Cobra Island."

Scarlett pointed to the bay that indented itself into the island in front of the Terror Drome. "So we're going into the harbor?"

"Full speed, guns-a-blazin'."

"There has to be massive defenses throughout the bay." pointed out Grunt. "Not to mention the long-range cannons on the Drome itself."

Hawk leaned back in his chair. "Look, I know this is going to be hard, but what choice do we have?" The general really wished that he had room to stand up and walk around. "I need to know: are you with me or not?" Hawk reached his fist over the table and looked at his fellow Joes. One by one, the teammates stuck their fist on top of or next to his.

Smiling, Hawk looked back down to the map. "Okay, guys, here's the plan…"

4.

With his cape flapping in the wind, Destro stood on the bow of the H.L.S. (His Lord's Ship, of course) Anastasia, gazing northward through a set of very powerful, very high-tech binoculars. Cobra Island was just showing the tip of itself over the horizon, looking almost like a pointed bulls-eye in the eyes of the C.E.O. of M.A.R.S.

Lowering the binoculars, Destro looked over the portside railing. A pair of dolphins were racing the ship, leaping out of the seawater and flapping their tails as hard as they could in order to keep up with the Anastasia.

It was very difficult for Destro to resist smiling; but now was not the time.

An Iron Grenadier Colonel walked up to the Lord and coughed in order to catch Destro's attention. As the leader of the Grenadiers turned around, the Colonel saluted him.

"What is it, Colonel Masters?"

"We are within fifty kilometers range of Cobra Island, my lord. I am reporting it as ordered."

Destro nodded. "Yes, yes. Excellent. I want all teams to report their stations. We will be disembarking soon."

"Yes, my lord. As you wish." The Colonel saluted again and spun around on his heel, then walked back into the ship.

Destro looked through the binoculars again, feeling both anticipation and rage begin to run through his veins.

But then, he felt a hand gently place itself on his shoulder. Unable to resist a smile this time, he turned around to face the Baroness.

"Hello, my dear. Are you comfortable?"

The Baroness smiled. "Comfortable? On your combat frigate? Not exactly. I do not enjoy the idea of assaulting Cobra Island. Despite our differences, I do not have violent feelings for the Commander."

"Hmm…I will admit I do not wish to cause great harm to Cobra Island or the Cobra forces, but I will not let Cobra Commander succeed with his mockery of me and my organization. Rest assured, my dear Anastasia, I will not fire the first shot…but I will fire the last."

5.

"You can't be serious!" cried Cobra Commander as he scurried across the radar-room located in the Terror Drome.

"I…I'm sorry sir, but it's true." whimpered Tele-Viper TV-284 at the satellite feed station. "Destro's battle frigate, the H.L.S. Anastasia, is less than twenty miles off the southern coast, and approaching fast. Also, the G.I. Jane has closed to thirty miles off our eastern shore."

Cobra Commander turned to Tomax and Xamot, who were also standing in the room. "This is all your fault!" he screamed as his hood waved across his face. "It's not enough that I have the G.I. Joe team charging for my shores, but now Destro is making a run for my island, and he'll get here first!"

Tomax waved his hand and spoke in a solemn tone, "Don't blame us for your excessive greed, Commander."

"You should have expected a hostile response from Destro." noted Xamot.

"After all, it was your idea to copy the Matrix Cannon." continued Tomax.

"We were just following your orders." said Xamot.

Chewing on his hood, the Commander growled. "Well, it doesn't matter who made the mistake now, does it? The fact of the matter is that we are being assaulted on two fronts, and with Dr. Mindbender busy working on the Matrix Cannon, and Major Bludd working in Iraq, we are the only leaders available to stop the attacks. So, you two airheads take the Crimson Guard, three Viper battalions and every B.A.T. we have down to the airfields and stop Destro from landing on our southern shore, understand?"

"And what will you be doing?" asked Tomax.

"Saving Cobra Island. I'm not letting my organization fall into a civil war!"

Actually overwhelmed by Cobra Commander's authority, the Crimson Twins nodded in obedience and promptly left the radar station.

"Tele-Viper," commanded the Head Snake as he turned back around, "I want to talk to whoever is in charge of the defenses in the bay in front of the Terror Drome."

"Y-yes, sir." TV-284 began quickly typing in the correct frequency to contact a Lamprey Eel piloting a Moray Hyrdofoil that slowly patrolled the northern half of Cobra Island. Soon a crackling voice replied, identifying itself as LE-63.

"We really need to get digital communication here." growled Cobra Commander, referring to the crackling noise.

"W-we do have digital, sir," noted TV-284, "It's just LE-63 is a chain smoker, sir."

Frowning at the Tele-Viper, Cobra Commander grabbed the microphone and barked, "Lamprey 63! This is your all mighty Commander!"

With more gross crackling, the Moray pilot replied, "All hail Cobra!" He then began coughing.

"Silence! I have new orders for you! There is a frigate assaulting the southern shore. Take every Moray you have and intercept that ship! I want it destroyed!"

"B-But sir," whimpered the Lamprey Eel, "I hate to argue, but the frigate is closing off the eastern shore."

"Shut up, you fool! There is another, more dangerous one assaulting the southern shore! Go after it, now!"

"Y-yes sir! Hail Cobra!"

Cobra Commander threw the microphone onto the control panel and cursed. Why did he only have idiots working for him? Destro's forces out-numbered the Joes ten-to-one. The small squad left in the bay should easily dispose of the Joe team.

Shouldn't it?

Damn.

There was only one choice left; Cobra Commander headed for the Terror Drome's prison cell.

Located in such an ultra-modern structure as the Drome, the prison cell was no slimy dungeon. It was small, but fairly well ventilated and lit. The hallway to the cell was as metallic as those of the Incan Temple Outpost, but carried a rimming of rust and mold due to its two decades of age and Cobra's lack of hygienics.

Standing in a slouched position against the wall beside the cell was a Cobra Trooper, CT-2956, one of the newest and lowest ranking of all Cobra soldiers. So far his enrollment in the Cobra Terrorist Organization had been far from what was promised him. The monotony and painful suffering of his training led him to mouth off to the Cobra Trainer, Big Boa. Usually such an act would lead to death or assignment to the "leaky suit brigade" of Toxo-Vipers, but Big Boa actually liked CT-2956's spunk, and let him live—with a punishment of six months of guard duty in the Terror Drome. The young trooper would have rather been shot.

Upon hearing footsteps approaching the cell, CT-2956 lazily crept back into an upright guard stance and yawned. Looking over his left shoulder, the guard expected to see the usual patrolman, CT-2873, making his rounds.

"Stand at attention!" barked Cobra Commander as he charged towards the prison cell. The guard snapped into an erect stance and fought to resist urinating in his pants. Even the spunky CT-2956 knew that Cobra Commander was a man to be feared—his lack of respect for the lower ranks was legendary. The Commander walked up to the red-bar door, glaring at the trooper. After drilling fear into the slacker guard, he turned his attention into the cell.

There was but one prisoner in the dark pen, lying on the short bed with his feet pressed flat high upon the right wall. "Cobra Commander! What a pleasant surprise." The prisoner swung his legs down and sat upright on the edge of the bed. "To what do I owe this honor?"

Frowning behind his hood, the Head Snake replied, "Stuff it, you worthless traitor. Honor is not something you will ever have again."

"If you want something from me, Commander, you are off to a horrible start." snapped back the prisoner.

CT-2956 couldn't help but turn his head a bit to the left so that he could get a view of Cobra Commander and hear into the cell better. This was great stuff!

Sighing, the Head Snake continued. "Cobra Island is under attack on two fronts, and I need another field commander. The Joes are attacking the northeastern shore with a light assault force. Do you want the job?"

The prisoner walked up to the red bars and grabbed them. "Of course I want the job. But what's in it for me?"

Cobra Commander snorted. "I'll cut your jail sentence in half."

The prisoner shook his head. "Not good enough. I want freedom."

The Commander sat in silent thought for a few moments. "Very well, but only if you leave Cobra Island and never return. You are hereby banished from Cobra operations after today."

"I can live with that."

Turning to CT-2956, Cobra Commander ordered, "Open the cell."

Fumbling with the key, the trooper attempted to quickly obey, and eventually unlocked the door and pressed the button that slid it open.

As the prisoner stepped out, Cobra Commander pulled out his custom pistol. Raising his hands, the prisoner said, "You have nothing to fear from me, Commander."

"I know." The Head Snake then turned the gun towards CT-2956 and fired it. The trooper grabbed his chest and dropped to the floor. "I can't have any witnesses to our little deal. He was a little too curious."

As the prisoner nodded, the gun was turned on him. "One last thing, Overlord. If you lose today. You die. And I will kill you myself."

"Understood."

With that, Cobra Commander and Overlord walked away from the prison cell.

6.

"Okay bring her down, just another ten feet!" called Alpine from the bridge of the second Waterborne Hover Assault Landing: Experimental to be lowered off the side of the G.I. Jane.

Splashing down against the water, the W.H.A.L.E. jerked, sending Alpine crashing into the stack of depth charges kept on the starboard side at the rear. After cursing, the Joe Mountain Trooper climbed over the bridge and crawled between the two twin .50-cal machine guns. Cautiously standing up, he reached above himself where the cables wrapping the hovercraft were attached to the crane and unhooked them. Now free to float on its own, the hovercraft bobbed hard to port as a wave hit it, causing Alpine to fall down and crash upon the starboard set of machine guns. Luckily he was wearing a thick life-support vest, or else he would have busted a couple of ribs. Now he merely got some severe bruising.

Bazooka popped his head out of the port machine-gun's turret-hole and looked at Alpine with his expressionless face. "Ouch."

"Yeah, ouch." growled the Mountain Trooper. Sitting back up on his knees, Alpine watched the crane swing itself up on board the Jane. He then climbed back to the bridge and punched the "On" switch, activating the W.H.A.L.E.'s propellers. Chuckles then stood up in the starboard turret-hole. He still looked a bit green, but he had been at sea long enough that he could keep his lunch down.

"All right, guys, let's go kick some snake ass!" called Alpine.

"Yo Joe!" cheered his gunners.

Pressing the accelerator forward, Alpine leaned back as the hovercraft roared across the waves away from the frigate. Law's W.H.A.L.E. buzzed out from behind the starboard side of the Jane, and Alpine quickly took a driving position roughly thirty yards away from it.

The Mountain Trooper turned around as the sound of jet thrusters blasted behind him. Quickly pouncing over the frigate was a Sky Hawk that rushed up into the air about thirty yards to the portside of the hovercraft. Alpine could see Grunt intensely gripping onto the right ski as the wind rushed across his rippling uniform. Less than a minute later, another Sky Hawk launched from the frigate and took a position to the starboard-side of the other W.H.A.L.E. Although he was harder to see, Alpine smiled as he recognized Crankcase frantically grasping onto the left ski. He didn't quite have the flight experience that Grunt did, and it showed.

General Hawk's voice came over the com, "Okay, Joes, this is it. Cobra is sending troops in droves south to take on Destro, but there are still plenty of defenses left to fight us. We can do this! Yo Joe!"

As the team repeated the battlecry, Alpine looked forward. Cobra Mountain silhouetted itself behind the high, green shoreline of the small island. Peeking over the trees and swamp-brush, sitting about a thousand feet from shore was the Terror Drome, slowly rotating its massive cannons out towards the bay. The massive cylinder appeared to usher a "Come and get it" cry as its shining silver walls glimmered in the bright glow of the tropical sun.

Suddenly, there appeared to be aircraft lifting off of the coast. The Mountain Trooper squinted to see what they were, but as he did the Joe Sky Hawks blasted forward, leaving trails of smoke behind them as they raced to intercept the swarm of black that danced above the closing shoreline. The propellers on Law's W.H.A.L.E. buzzed with even greater life as the craft pushed itself forward across the waves.

Jerking the gearshift down, Alpine punched life into his hovercraft and charged it towards the island.

7.

"E.T.A.: one minute!" called the Nullifier over the closed-com-channel in the Dominator. The vibrations of the flying tank, combined with the thunderous roar of its propeller, nearly drowned out his voice. But the sound amplification system in Destro's helmet got the message through, and the Lord of the Iron Grenadiers looked to his left and gave a thumbs-up to his co-pilot in the port cockpit.

Looking back out of the cramped starboard-side cockpit, Destro washed away all feelings of discomfort and focused on the squadrons of aircraft rising into the sky. Rattlers, F.A.N.G.s, Hurricanes, Flight Pods; everything in Cobra's arsenal came swarming into the air towards the invading Iron Grenadiers Force.

A pair of Mamba helicopters lifted off the shoreline, then raced at unbelievable speeds towards the attack force. A handful of Anti Gravity Pods opened fire on the twin-bladed maroon choppers, but were quickly smashed to pieces by incoming Mamba missiles.

Destro pulled his Dominator right as the high-speed Cobra helicopters zipped by. "Second wave forces! Destroy those Mambas!" ordered the still level-headed Lord. Checking his rear camera screen, he could see missiles from about twenty A.G.P.s fire on the Mambas and obliterate them.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Destro looked back forward…and quickly lost his breath again. A wall of aircraft was moving towards his little invasion fleet. Massive pillars of water erupted out of the ocean as coastal defense cannons opened fire on the beach-landing craft that were bobbing the waves towards Cobra Island. Destro shook as a craft exploded and its Iron Grenadier passengers fell off its side, lit aflame and shaking in pain and screams.

Destro was beginning to doubt that this was all worth it. It was just a weapon, wasn't it? He could get the parts for another and build it, couldn't he?

No! That wasn't what this was about. This was about the fact that that fool Cobra Commander made a mockery of him by building another Matrix Cannon in secret. Then, to really stab at Destro's heart, he was going to use it to terrorize the world and leave the weapons manufacturer out of it all! After all these years, Cobra Commander still thought so little of him. No, this wasn't about the Matrix Cannon anymore. This was about teaching that bungling fool the meaning of loyalty and trust. The cannon? Well, that was just a side benefit.

Looking forward with an even stronger determination, Destro pressed the accelerator forward, delving his Dominator right into the thick of the Cobra defense wall. A Hurricane fighter jet rocketed towards him, but once his board read "Missile Lock," he fired, and moments later he was sailing over the jet's collapsing fuselage. A pair of F.A.N.G.s closed in on the Dominator. Turning left to face the first one, Destro fired the cannons and sent it spinning to the ocean below. The second helicopter fired a rocket, but it hit the armored treads of the Dominator, and merely caused a smoking scar on the craft's side. Slowly rotating the tank/chopper to the right, Destro locked onto the small black helicopter and quickly pounded it to pieces.

Five more F.A.N.G.s closed in on his position, escorted by a Mamba and a pair of Hurricanes. Destro accelerated to the east as a massive barrage of firepower headed his way, causing more damage to his smoking Dominator. Swerving side to side around, between and over Cobra aircraft hanging in the sky, he was able to get the Cobras to shoot upon themselves three or four times. But alas, it was not to last. Looking through the rear camera screen, the Lord of Castle Destro grit his teeth as the missile-lock alarm began whining like mad, and a Hurricane lined itself up behind him—and then exploded! A swarm of A.G.P.s and Dominators rushed to Destro's defense, obliterating his attackers. As fast as they came to his rescue, though, half of Destro's saviors were cut down by more Cobra aircraft swarming into the fray.

"Excellent work, my Iron Grenadiers!" praised Destro. "Come, we have to get to the beaches and take down the artillery! To victory!"

Despite the impossible odds, Destro could see the silver lining on this gray cloud: if there was this much resistance at the southern shore, then that meant defense must be lighter for the Joe team up by the Terror Drome. Good. Cobra Commander was poor at rating the skill levels of his enemies. Although Destro was proud of his Iron Grenadiers, they were no G.I. Joes, and the Joes were the greater threat. The Commander just didn't see it.

8.

Incoming fire from a row of Cobra Battle Barges lining the bay began rocking the W.H.A.L.E. Law turned the hovercraft straight for them and called out to his gunners. "Mainframe! Dial-Tone! Open up on those gunnery stations!" Nodding that they got the orders, the two braniacs adjusted their aim and began shooting at the floating machine-gun nests. Cobra Eels leapt for their lives as their weapons and ammo were blasted to bits.

Confident in his victory over the Barges, Law didn't see the giant bubbles rise up to the surface by the coast line and begin firing their twin .50-cal cannons at him. Turning the steering wheel hard left, Law managed to get the right side of the W.H.A.L.E. torn up, but saved his gunners from being hit.

"What the hell was that?" asked the Military Policeman.

"It was a B.U.G.G." replied Mainframe.

"A what?"

"It's a massive amphibious vehicle that Cobra uses to defend its coastline." said Dial-Tone. "They're big fat bubbly tanks covered in .50-cals and missiles."

"And they can submerge themselves pretty deep." added Mainframe.

"Swell." groaned Law.

"Look out!" cried Dial-Tone as he swung his turret starboard and opened fire. A Firebat dive-bombed at the W.H.A.L.E. and launched its missiles. The flak from Dial-Tone's guns shattered the front-end of the short-range fighter, but the bombs slammed into the side of the hovercraft, sending the Joes leaping for the water. As the Firebat swooped over its exploding target, it was smashed into flames by the strike of a Sky Hawk missile.

Law bobbed his head out of water and gasped for air. He saw Scarlett's Sky Hawk in the corner of his eye as he looked back at the smoking W.A.L.E. sink into the salty sea.

Then, the impossible happened: the front hatch of the sinking craft blew off, and the recon sled fired out of its secret chamber at the base of the hovercraft. The little boat was moving so quickly that Law could only get a glimpse at the black books hanging off the rear of the sled.

"Law! Law, are you all right?" asked Mainframe as he swam over to the soaked MP.

"Y-yeah. Hey, did you just see that?"

"See what?"

"The recon sled just launched!"

"Must have been 'cause of damage to the systems." Mainframe grabbed the boggled Joe and started pulling him backwards.

"But…but someone was on it…"

"Ahoy, there!" called out Alpine from his W.H.A.L.E. "Looks like you guys need a bit of rescuing!"

"Get us out of here, Alpine!" ordered Dial-Tone, "There's a B.U.G.G. over there."

"Not any more!" said the Mountain Trooper as he pulled the Communications Trooper up with his right hand and pointed with his left hand. "Look!"

Scarlett's Sky Hawk began shooting at the big green and yellow bubble-tank with every gun it had. The B.U.G.G. attempted to submerge, but it was too late; its hull was ripped apart and fire began pouring out of its top. As water dumped into the body of the massive vehicle, its Secto-Viper pilots swam into the clear tropical water. A pair of them were lucky enough to grab hold of the jet-skis stored in the framework of the B.U.G.G. and shoot up onto the bay's surface and take off towards the shore of Cobra Island.

As soon as Dial-Tone was up in the cock-pit of the W.H.A.L.E., he pointed to a flashing light on the control panel. "There's a call coming in. Want me to pick that up?"

"We've got cannon fire coming at us from the shore!" cried Chuckles. "It's another one of those big green bubbly things!"

Cursing, Alpine punched the accelerator and drove for the wreckage of the first B.U.G.G.

"Dial-Tone, pick up that damn call! Chuckles, Bazooka, aim for anything that moves! Law, Mainframe, get below-decks and start loading the main cannons! We're headin' for shore!"

The hovercraft sailed across the waves as it raced for Cobra Island, entering the range of the Assault Systems Pods that lined the beach. The blue twin-barreled cannons fired relentlessly at the Joe attackers, putting Alpine's driving skills to the ultimate test. Although he was not holding the CB, Alpine could here Hawk's screaming voice pour from it.

"Alpine! Turn that W.H.A.L.E. around right now! The coastline has not been secured! Get away from those A.S.P.s! That's an order!"

Smiling, Alpine turned the wheel hard right and dodged a pair of blasts rocketing for the Joe craft. "General, do us all a favor and get rid of a few of those guns for me, okay?" yelled back the Mountain Trooper.

Taking a risk, Alpine leveled the hovercraft long enough to fire off a pair of shots from the main guns. An A.S.P. on the shore exploded, sending debris and men scattering in every direction. Unfortunately, the maneuver gave the Pods enough time to target a shot and blow a hole in the front end of the W.H.A.L.E.

"Damn!" cursed Alpine as he struggled with the controls. "Law! Talk to me!"

"She's taking in a lot of water! We're going down!"

Still a hundred feet from the coast, the hovercraft was slowing down and becoming an easier shot. Alpine knew he had to find a way onto shore. Looking to the right, he barked a final order. "Load me up another set of shots! Chuckles, Bazooka, keep the Cobras as busy as you can!"

"Yes, sir!"

"Locked and loaded!" informed Mainframe.

Double-checking his aim, Alpine waited…then fired! The two shots smashed into the two A.S.P.s that the W.H.A.L.E. was heading straight for. Raising their hands, the Joe team cried out a mighty "Yo Joe!"

As Vipers and Techno-Vipers scrambled from the burning wrecks, the Joe hovercraft skidded across the ocean floor, coming to a stop twenty feet from the shore. "Looks like this ride's over, guys." said Chuckles.

"Swim for it, pronto!" ordered Law.

The Joes quickly dove for the water as the remaining handful of A.S.P.s fired on the W.H.A.L.E., igniting the ravaged hovercraft into a cluster ball of fire. Showered by the debris from the explosion, the Joes began crawling across the water towards Cobra Island.

9.

Standing atop a Cobra Adder, Overlord lowered his binoculars and frowned. A Cobra Officer walked up to him with a Tele-Viper close behind.

"Excuse me, commander--" began the officer, but Overlord cut him off.

"You will refer to me as your lord! I am your lord!" barked the eccentric field commander.

Giving a look of frustration, the officer corrected himself. "Forgive, me. Excuse me, my _lord, _but Cobra Commander demands an update on the battle's status."

Overlord stepped down from his position between the twin "White Heat II" Surface-to-Surface-Missiles behind the Adder's seat and took the vehicle's controls. "Just tell him that we sunk the hovercrafts. Don't give him any details."

"But, sir, er…my lord!"

"Quiet! I have business to attend to!" Revving the Adder's engine, Overlord sped off towards the shore in the little missile-launching truck.

The Cobra Officer nervously turned around to face the Tele-Viper, who was pointing his camera directly at him. "I…I am sorry Commander, but—"

"Don't break a sweat gland, you fool, I saw it all. That's why I wanted a Tele-Viper to go with you." snarled Cobra Commander. His puff of frustration echoed over the closed channel to the officer's headset. "I can't worry about this right now. The Joes are being torn apart, and Destro is the bigger threat. Just keep an eye on that egotistical buffoon Overlord and tell me if I need to worry."

"Yes, sir. Hail Cobra Commander!"

"Bah."

Overlord's Adder rumbled onto the coastline and set itself in a firing position facing northeast. The White Heat II missiles elevated to firing position and Overlord began calculating distance. Picking his binoculars back up, he looked to the horizon and found the G.I. Jane, seemingly motionless sitting on the edge of the world. Smiling, he set down his binoculars and reached for the Adder's firing controls.

A white hand reached in front of the control panel, causing Overlord to jump back and yelp in fright.

"You don't think I'm gonna let you shoot the Jane, do you?" asked Law as he moved his hand away from the control panel and grabbed the Overlord's neck. Chuckles and Alpine reached for the Cobra's arms, but couldn't get them in time. Overlord punched Law with lightning speed; his trademark golden claws ripped into the Joe M.P.'s face—but Law didn't let go. The Joes pulled the former Crimson Guardsman out of the driver's seat, but he violently fought to break away, stabbing with his claws. Chuckles fell to the sand and Alpine jumped away. It wasn't until he was hit in the stomach that Law let go of the Overlord's neck. Now engulfed in laughter, the Cobra reached back into the Adder and hit the "fire" button. The two White Heat II missiles roared to life and blasted off into the bay. Their jet thrusts knocked Overlord onto his back.

10.

Hawk swooped down the shoreline and pulled the trigger. His Sky Hawk began vibrating as the twin 7.62mm guns opened up on the last two A.S.P.-units on the beach. The little blue butt-pains exploded and the Joe General knew that he was clear to make the run for the Terror Drome now.

Of course, he needed to know how his team was doing. Making a tight turn that only the V.T.O.L. Sky Hawk could perform, Hawk looked back down the shore…and felt his jaw drop open. Popping up the communications switch, he couldn't keep his eyes off of what he saw.

"Hawk to Scarlett."

"Scarlett here, Hawk."

"Where did that Adder come from? Did you see it come in from the—Oh my god! Did it just fire its missiles?"

"Affirmative, Hawk! And it looks like they're headed straight for the Jane!"

Quickly changing frequencies, Hawk attempted to call out to sea. "Doc! This is General Hawk! Warning! You've got missiles headed to the Jane! Get the men--!" But it was too late. Two massive explosions fireballed off the portside hull of the frigate, rocking the ship and creating a domino-effect of blasts across the deck. Equipment began to fall and weapons-systems crashed overboard.

Feeling his eyes water, Hawk changed frequency again. "Scarlett, I'm going back to the Jane to see if I can help. Take charge of the team and get into the Terror Drome. Understood?"

After a short pause, she replied, "Yes, sir. You'll need to drop off Grunt. I need all the help I can get."

"Okay. Good luck."

"You, too."

11.

Techno-Viper TCV-78 looked at the papers he was holding, but he couldn't believe them. Closing his eyes, he shook his head.

Then he looked again.

And again.

But there wasn't time to a fourth time. This news was too important to hold. It needed to get to Cobra Commander—fast!

Running towards the radar-room's exit, he became the attention of everyone else in the room. The door slid open and TCV-78 rounded the turn into the hall—and slammed right into Cobra Commander! The two men bounced off of each other, falling onto their backsides, but in opposite directions. The Techno-Viper dropped the papers he was holding and Cobra Commander began cursing and swearing retribution.

As TCV-78 frantically picked up the radar scans, he pleaded for his life. "I'm, I'm so sorry Commander. I was actually on my way to see you! I have very important news!"

The Head Snake stood up from the ground and drew his custom pistol. "This news had better be worth your life, you insipid moron!"

Shaking with fear, the Techno-Viper showed a scan to his leader. "O-Overlord has damaged the G.I. Jane, sir."

"So what? I already knew that!"

"B-but a Joe Sky Hawk, the one we believe to be piloted by General Hawk himself…is flying back to the Jane!"

Putting away his pistol, Cobra Commander grabbed the scan. Sure enough, it showed a Sky Hawk making a beeline for the Jane. Looking back at the Techno-Viper, he glared. "And you're sure General Hawk is flying this craft?"

"Eighty-three percent sure, sir." said TCV-78, starting to feel proud of himself.

Cobra Commander began to make a soft hissing sound as he drifted off in thought. "Then perhaps it is time to test the Matrix Cannon located here on Cobra Island…"

"Sir?"

"Get back to your station! Keep me informed of Hawk's position." snarled the Head Snake.

"Yes, sir! All hail!"

As he began walking away, Cobra Commander turned around. "And Techno-Viper, if you tell anyone about what happened here in the hallway, you will die…slowly, and painfully."

"Of…of course not, sir."


	13. The Invasion of Cobra Island

**Chapter 13**

**The Invasion of Cobra Island**

Slowly pushing his way through acres of soggy marshland, Croc-Master froze with concern as sounds of growling and splashing filled the air. Quickly turning his sluggish patrol into a panicked sprint, the crocodile trainer ran by droves of his little babies who followed his movements with slow turns of their eyes that barely poked out above water.

Breaking through a thick wall of ficus shrubs, the Cobra crocodile specialist skidded to a halt as he froze in shock. Splashing in the marsh waters before him was the G.I. Joe Commando Snake Eyes, wrestling Sheiba, Croc-Master's pure-bred Australian Saltwater Crocodile. She was a rare twenty-two-foot-long reptile that had been with the crocodile trainer for almost ten years. And now it was fighting a Joe for its life! Snake Eyes rolled Sheiba over, drew a long knife and stabbed it into the back of the crocodile's skull, then twisted it, killing the animal quickly.

"No!" screamed Croc-Master as he unhooked his heavy whip from his belt. Snake Eyes looked up at the fanatic reptile-lover and pulled the knife back out of Sheiba's head. Croc-Master swirled the whip around and cursed. "How dare you kill her! I…I will make you pay for what you have done!" Snapping the whip forward, the reptile trainer hit Snake Eye's hand perfectly, knocking the knife into the air. As the knife splashed in the water, Croc-Master pulled his whip back and cracked another lash at the commando. The strike hit Snake Eyes' left arm and the Joe leaned his head back in a silent cry of pain. The whip had cut through his black uniform; a trickle of blood spilled from his forearm.

"Ha-ha-ha! That's just the beginning, you worthless excuse for a fighter. You're not as tough as they say." Croc-Master swirled back his whip again and lashed it forward, but this time, Snake Eyes reached his wounded arm up and grabbed the long reptile-skin whip. Blood now poured from his hand, but he didn't lessen his grasp on the weapon.

"What the hell? Let go!" Croc-Master pulled back hard, but Snake Eyes didn't let go. As the crocodile-trainer reached up with his second hand, the Joe commando yanked on the whip, yanking it away from Croc-Master. "H-hey! That's mine! Give it back!"

Snake Eyes grabbed the handle of the whip and began walking towards the Cobra agent. With the lashing device swirling over his head, he treaded through the marsh water until he was within five feet of his trembling foe.

"P-please, let me go. I forgive you for killing Sheiba. You have free passage through the marshland, honest. I will leave you alone. Just…let me…and my babies live."

Croc-Master fell to his knees begging as Snake Eyes walked up behind him, but the commando simply tied him up with the whip.

Running away through the marshes, Snake Eyes held on to his sore stomach. It had been treated and wrapped up by field medics in Peru and on the Coast Guard helicopter, but it was still in bad shape; but at least he could stand upright again.

What was important at the moment was the sight of the Terror Drome, drawing slowly closer as the Joe commando made his way through the marsh. Snake Eyes had to go on this secret mission—there just weren't enough Joes to attack Cobra Island. More importantly, there was no way that he could get permission to join the attack force in his current condition—he had to break the rules.

Stepping out of the marsh, Snake Eyes dropped to the ground as a Stun rounded the left side of the Terror Drome and slowly rumbled by. Fueled by over-excitement, he stepped out too soon from behind the bushes. He was spotted by the Stun's Motor-Viper tail-gunner, who raised his arm to point at the Joe, but Snake Eyes quickly drew his knife and flung it threw the air. Before the Motor-Viper could mutter a word, he had a six-inch blade lodged in his throat. His head flopped over and the Stun continued on its patrol around the Terror Drome; its other pilots remained completely unaware of what just happened.

Entrance to the Drome was a tricky matter, and there didn't seem to be a "back-door". However, there were plenty of vents—large vents—and Snake Eyes had studied the locations of every single one of them. Dropping to one knee, the commando pulled off his carrying case and set it on the ground. After opening it, he pulled out a length of rope…and a grappling hook. Once he had quickly tied the hook to the rope, he began swirling it by his side. He knew that he only had one shot at this—when the metal hook hit the steel wall, it would bang very loudly. He needed to hook a five-inch outcropping of the wall that conveniently stuck out just a foot above a vent that was twenty feet up from the ground. Thankfully, Cobra sure didn't understand the concept of "security".

Snake Eyes flung the grappling hook into the air, at a high angle, and it bonked the Terror Drome's wall, then slid down a few feet until it snagged onto the five-inch outcropping above the vent. After quickly grabbing his bag, the commando pulled his way up the giant steel wall at an incredible speed; a speed that was actually slow for Snake Eyes, considering his injury.

After only a minute, Snake Eyes reached the vent-screen and pulled out a portable cutting torch. In the distance he could hear the sounds of the distant battles, and even the sounds of some frantic animals, but most importantly he could hear the Stun coming back around the southern side of the Terror Drome. Although he was only three-fourths complete, Snake Eyes didn't have time to finish. He kicked the vent in, then swung himself inside feet-first. He didn't have time to grab the grappling hook. Laying in silence, the commando waited until the sound of the Stun's engine passed by.

"What am I worried about?" he thought to himself. "If they can't see that their tail-gunner is dead, they aren't going to see a rope hanging down the side of the Terror Drome."

After quickly pulling the rope and hook into the vent, then roughly re-setting the screen, Snake Eyes crawled deeper into the Cobra Island battle station.

1.

The outpouring of smoke was one thing, but the rattling was by far the most annoying. The shaking. The uncontrollable vibration of a Dominator about to vibrate itself to pieces over the southern shoreline of Cobra Island.

Well, this wouldn't do one bit.

Destro's forces had been eaten alive by the far more numerous Cobra forces, even though the kill ratio was easily three-to-one. The Iron Grenadiers were hand-picked, better-trained, and in Destro's opinion, more intelligent than the Cobra Vipers.

But today Cobra Commander had a larger supply of troops on the Island than Destro had anticipated. Perhaps to defend the Matrix Cannon? Whatever the reason, Destro was on the verge of defeat, and had no chance of retreat. His vehicles would be torn apart before they reached his frigates. The only choice he saw left open to him was to storm in and use his knowledge of Cobra Island to get to the Terror Drome. It would be better to die there than out over the ocean.

"Destro!" called the Baroness. Destro snapped out of his train of thought. He looked to his right to see his lover's Dominator fly up next to his. It was in worse shape than his was.

"Yes, my dear, what is it?"

"We are losing this battle. We must pull back and attempt retreat!"

"No! No, we cannot. The Commander's forces would tear us apart before we made ten kilometers out. We must keep pushing forward, and land on the southeastern shoreline."

"What?" shrieked the Baroness. "We can't even make it through the air defenses. If we land, then the ground forces will pulverize us!"

"But if we can open a spot for any D.E.M.O.N.s to come to shore, we will have a strong—" Before he could finish, the Baroness' Dominator was hit by a missile from behind; it caught fire and began a dive for the ground.

"Anastasiah!" cried Destro. He steered his craft downwards after the Baroness'. Amazingly, the burning craft still had some power, and managed to pull up, transforming its nose-dive into a skidding, scraping crash across the sandy beach. It still crashed hard, however, and the intense burning began firing clusters of flame into the air.

Destro lowered his Dominator's elevation, swung down its treads, and set it gently onto the shore. The propeller came to a stop, the blades swung backwards and the back end of the craft shortened. The Dominator was now in tank mode.

But that didn't matter to Destro. He swung the cockpit open as the craft was transforming and jumped out. He sprinted over to the Baroness' crash site, ignoring the hot debris that was flying through the air and hitting him in his facemask. He reached the cracked cockpit glass and broke it open. The Baroness was unconscious, sitting in a slumped position; her face was covered in blood. Destro pulled out his knife and began cutting off her straps.

As he pulled his lover from the burning wreck, Destro ducked as a thunderous boom echoed through the air. Looking around, he saw that it wasn't the crashed Dominator exploding but instead his Dominator had started turning around and firing its guns; it was under attack by H.I.S.S. tanks and his Nullifier co-pilot was responding to the threat.

Destro ran away from the crashed vehicle as fast as he could with the Baroness in his arms. The soft sand slowed him down immensely. After only thirty seconds of running, the tank/helicopter finally exploded, sending even larger chunks of debris into the air. Destro dropped Baroness to the ground and covered her with his body. Pieces of metal began pounding his body, but his suit of state-of-the-art body-armor saved his life.

Standing up, Destro looked back to see his Dominator fire a pair of missiles at a H.I.S.S. II tank and blast it into scrap.

"Excellent!" cheered Destro. But as soon as the word came from his mouth, the Dominator erupted in a violent explosion, sending even more shrapnel into the air. Once the shockwave settled, Destro turned around to see an IMP rolling on its treads across the beach with one of its three missiles gone. The Lord of Castle Destro immediately regretted designing those fat little rocket launchers for Cobra so long ago.

Much to his surprise, a pair of missiles flew into the IMP and obliterated it. It was easy for the designer of those missiles to recognize them: Silent-running Titanium Under-radar Negative-Gravity missiles. S.T.U.N.G. for short. (He didn't make the names, just the equipment, but if the title made him smile, it stayed). They were indigenous to his A.G.P.s, and sure-enough when Destro looked out to sea, a squadron of A.G.P.s were flying towards the beach. But most importantly: four of the Anti-Gravity Pods were hooked via steel cables to a D.E.M.O.N. The massively-treaded heavy-assault vehicle was almost too much for them to carry, but the little pods were determined to get the black, gold and silver mammoth to shore.

Destro tapped on his facemask, activating his communicator. "Nullifiers! Bring that D.E.M.O.N. to my position immediately. Prepare to lay down covering fire as I take command of said vehicle. Over."

"Nullifier commander to Destro. Orders received. Adjusting trajectory to your position. ETA, three minutes. Over."

The four A.G.P.s turned themselves a few degrees north, and their hanging cargo swayed as it followed their pattern change. But almost as soon as they had finished rotating, a surface-to-air missile screamed across the sky and slammed into one of the A.G.P.s. The black, red and gold flight pod burst into flame and began tumbling over itself on its way down to the splashing waters below.

Destro followed the missile's smoke trail to the ground and saw a Flak-Viper standing a hundred meters down the shoreline and aiming his backpack launcher at another A.G.P. Quickly raising his arm, Destro activated the targeting system for his gauntlet missiles. He was breathing heavily, so it was difficult to steady the H.U.D. cross-hairs on the Cobra Anti-Aircraft Trooper, but when the signal glowed red, he spoke a single word.

"Fire."

One of the little red rockets flared up and shot from Destro's forearm. It raced across the beach and in only moments, it struck the Flak-Viper. The soldier was sent flying into the ocean as the missile struck his side and exploded.

Not concerned whether the Viper survived or not, the Lord of Castle Destro looked across the beach and found an AK-47 lying next to a fallen Cobra Officer. After quickly picking up and cocking the rifle, he turned his attention back to the A.G.P.s.

Screaching roars poured from the shaking the flight pods, who were strained beyond their capacity to keep the D.E.M.O.N. in the sky. Two more cables snapped, causing the heavy-artillery vehicle to crash down into the shallow waters. The over-powered A.G.P.s, now free from their cargo, rocketed up into the sky. A giant wave splashed onto the beach; some of the spray even hit Destro.

"Damnit!" cursed the Lord of the Iron Grenadiers. Seeing that the D.E.M.O.N. was still standing upright, he began walking over to it; he also called the pilot. "Ferret! Bring that vehicle ashore! I'll be taking command immediately!"

"Yes, Lord Destro!" The D.E.M.O.N. began a slow crawl onto the beach. Destro took notice that behind the massive heavy assault machine was a trio of A.G.P.s, approaching Cobra Island carrying a Razorback vehicle. Although not as powerful as a D.E.M.O.N., it would make an excellent back-up vehicle for an attack-run up the main road along the eastern side of the island. Turning south to check for any more Flak-Vipers, Destro was shocked to see a row of H.I.S.S. tanks moving east towards his position.

And they were firing their cannons.

Jumping for his life, the Lord of Castle Destro barely avoided the massive explosion of the D.E.M.O.N. as shots from eight different 90mm cannons tore through its body. Although he couldn't see them, Destro could hear the A.G.P.s drop the Razorback into the shallow waters, then turn towards the H.I.S.S. tanks and open fire. Soon there was a flaming wall of black scrap-metal eighty meters down the beach.

The Razorback drove up out of the water and parked next to Destro. The driver, a Wild Boar, jumped down from the cockpit and helped Destro stand up.

"My lord! Are you all right?"

With his hand on his head, Destro looked at the Razorback before he looked at the Wild Boar. The experimental vehicle's eight wheels and equal number of missiles seemed in fine shape. "Yes, yes I'm fine. How is the vehicle?"

"Uh…excellent, sir. No crippling damage to report."

Destro walked over to the Baroness and picked her up. "Good. Help me get her into the cockpit."

"Yes, my lord."

Destro jumped up to the cockpit, and with the Wild Boar's help, Baroness sat snuggly with him on his lap. The Lord of the Iron Grenadiers turned on the Razorback and the Wild Boar jumped off.

"But my lord! What am I supposed to do?" cried the panicked vehicle driver.

Destro lifted up the AK-47 that he had found and tossed it down to the Wild Boar. The driver clumsily caught it, and looked back up with a sad look in his eyes. "You know how to use one of those, don't you?" said Destro. "Use it!"

The Razorback's engine roared to life and the large orange and black vehicle raced off of the beach and up into the heart of Cobra Island.

2.

Crankcase picked up Overlord and threw him against a palm tree. "Move it, jackass! You're our ticket into the Terror Drome, and so you got point. Go!"

Overlord slowly turned around, quivering as the pain from the Adder missile blasts registered in new places throughout his body. "Very well, Joe. You will be the first one that I kill."

"Damn you're cocky." said Alpine, who was still wiping sand from his charred uniform.

"What are you guys doing down there?" Scarlett's voice was a bit hectic over the radio communication coming down from her Sky Hawk. "If you're all okay, we need to get moving. I don't have enough fuel to keep waiting for you."

Grunt grabbed the radio from Dial-Tone. "Look, if you're worried about fuel, run back to the Jane. We'll move in on foot. There isn't much you can do in a swamp from the air anyways."

After a few moments of silence, Scarlett replied. "Agreed. But be careful. Don't be too hasty."

"Understood."

"And one more thing: Snake Eyes is already in there. Watch out for him." With that, the Sky Hawk rotated its jets and blasted off for the freighter.

Standing in shocked silence, Grunt slowly handed the radio microphone back to Dial-Tone, who was just as quiet as he was.

"Is she serious? Snake Eyes is already here? But how?" asked Chuckles.

"I saw him ride a recon sled towards the island on our attack run." reported Law.

"The guy is good, I'll give him that." praised Alpine.

"Okay, look, we'll answer the Snake Eyes questions later. Right now we need to get off this beach." Looking over to Overlord, he cocked a Dragunov Sniper Riple that he picked up on the shore and pointed it at the Cobra traitor. "Get us in, please."

Overlord frowned, but turned around, raised his right arm and ushered the Joes to follow him into the swamp.

After only about fifty feet of marching, Crankcase stepped into a deep pit of swampwater.

"Damnit-all!" cursed the Joe as he pulled his mucky boot out of the mud.

"Quiet, Crankcase." warned Grunt. "You better get used to the marsh if you plan on getting to the Terror Drome."

Alpine looked to his right side. "Anyone notice that we're not exactly heading towards the big bucket at the moment?" The team looked over to see that he was right: The Terror Drome was almost sixty-degrees to their right.

"Where are you taking us, Overlord?" growled Chuckles.

Turning around with his hands on his chest, the Cobra field commander feigned a look of concern. "Hey, look, you want to get to the Drome in one piece, right? Do you want to go through Croc-Master's reptile pit or my way: the safe way?"

Turning his gun on Overlord, Crankcase griped. "We just want to get there the 'right' way. Don't be wasting our time."

Smiling, Overlord turned back around. "Oh, heaven's no. Don't worry about that."

After another ten minutes of marching through the swamps, Alpine spoke up again. "Okay, now this is getting stupid. We're actually heading _away_ from the Terror Drome! What's going on, here?" The Joes, who were so caught up in avoiding the thick, slimy mud, hadn't been paying enough attention to which direction they were going. Now that they looked back over their shoulders, they got riled up.

Grunt stomped up across the mud and grabbed Overlord, then slammed him against a tree. "Okay, that's it. You're outta here." After pulling off his facemask, he shoved the sniper rifle barrel up Overlord's nose and put his finger on the trigger.

"Wait, Grunt!" beckoned Law. "There's a road over here!" The Joe MP was standing between some ficus bushes and pointing through them.

"Nats what ni was nrying noo shnow nu!" said Overlord with the barrel still up his nose.

After pulling his gun back, Grunt turned the Cobra around and pushed him through the bushes. The group walked out onto a roadway that apparently headed northwest towards the Cobra Temple.

"Maybe he's not so bad after all." said Mainframe.

"Don't get too eager with the compliments." ordered Grunt. "This road still leads in the wrong direction."

"Only for a little ways. There is a fork in the road that heads towards the Terror Drome about a kilometer up." said Overlord, but not while looking directly at anyone.

"Well, it's an easier way north than the swamp." pointed out Crankcase, who was wiping off his boots.

"Yeah, and probably crawling with Cobras." Grunt had to think for a moment, but sighed and pointed his gun at Overlord's back. "Okay, scumball. You win. Lead the way. But guys, get ready to jump into the bushes as soon as we hear an engine coming, got it?"

"Got it." replied the team.

3.

Cobra Commander's finger's tapped the handles of the Matrix Cannon. His grip had gotten painfully tight as he sat in the cannon's control seat, growing evermore anxious to show his dominating power to the world.

"How much longer?" griped the leader of Cobra.

"J-just a few more minutes, sir." responded TCV-14, who was frantically double and triple-checking the power-relays that fed the energy-hog of a weapon.

"Well, let me know the moment it is ready. I can't risk Destro or the Joes getting a lucky shot into the Terror Drome and taking out my ultimate weapon before I even have a chance to use it!"

"N-no, sir. Of course not." TCV-14, the highest-ranking Techno-Viper on site frantically continued punching the power relay station's controls and hooking cables. Swarms of other TCV's and Tele-Vipers worked like mad attempting to complete the work they had been so lethargically dilly-dallying with for the last three days. That was usually the deal with Cobra work ethics: If a high-ranking officer wasn't around, neither was effort.

As a row of lights turned on across the control-panel of the Matrix Cannon, Cobra Commander smiled. That meant power was finally getting into the weapon, and of course that meant the weapon could be used, right?

"Excellent! I'm taking it up!" called out the Commander. He pulled back the lever that controlled the elevator and began rising up towards the domed ceiling of the Drome.

"W-wait, sir!" cried out TCV-14. He began hooking cables at an even more chaotic pace. "I've only routed power into the cannon's control panel, not the weapon itself!"

As the Matrix Cannon rose higher up, Cobra Commander called down, "Well it had better work before I reach the top or I'll have you all shot!" A pair of Tele-Vipers ran up to the control station that TCV-14 was at and began helping him as fast as they could.

The domed ceiling opened and separated, making room for the overly ambitious Commander to rise twenty feet higher than the roof of the Terror Drome. The Matrix Cannon platform locked into position…and sat in silence. Even through his metal facemask, Cobra Commander could hear the wind blow, and the sounds of explosions fluttering from the south. There was a lot to shoot at in that direction, but most of it were Cobra forces. It was too risky to shoot down there. No, he needed to stick with his plan to shoot the American coastline.

But wait! What was that?

Flipping down the telephoto-scanner's monitor, the Head Snake turned the Matrix Cannon toward the dark shape on the horizon…and grinned. This would be a perfect test for the cannon. No satellite connection would be needed. No, this would be pure, brute force.

"Where is my power?" screamed Cobra Commander as he drew his pistol.

"It's coming! It's coming!" cried back TCV-14; but before the Commander could reply, the Techno-Viper looked up and yelled, "Got it!"

Every light on the Matrix Cannon lit up, and a great deal of them began flashing. Everything seemed to be working perfectly.

After putting away his pistol, Cobra Commander targeted the small dot on the horizon, gripped the handles tightly once again, and pulled the triggers.

"Goodbye, Jane."

4.

"Sailor! Get water on that fire immediately!" barked out Hawk as he pointed to a raging ball of flame enveloping a crate of W.H.A.L.E. ammunition. A Navy enlisted man holding a large hose nodded and began spraying the potential super-explosive.

General Hawk ran across the deck of the G.I. Jane, breaking apart burning wreckage and spraying it with the fire extinguisher he carried with him. Navy men ran across the ship like mad, frantically trying to save the ship from potential destruction.

"General Abernathy!" called Captain Aegis. Hawk turned around to see the veteran of the ocean running across the burning deck to him.

"Yes, Captain, what is it?"

"We're down to the last two lifeboats. Nearly all of the crew are out to sea."

"How much time does she have left?" asked Hawk with a heavy heart.

Captain Aegis wiped his brow. "My engineer can keep her afloat for another hour, but then she's gone. Of course, she'll go a lot sooner if this deck cargo explodes."

"Of course."

Hawk turned as the sound of soft walking drew closer to him. He recognized who it was immediately. "Doc, what's your status?"

The old Joe master of Army Medicine smiled. He always liked how people could recognize him without having to see him. The smile quickly vanished, however. "The last of the injured sailors are off the Jane. There are just a few men left below decks and a couple dozen up here fighting the fires."

"Any losses?" asked the Captain.

Doc nodded. "Three men who were in the forward cargo bay when the missiles hit. I don't have their names with me right now, but I can have them for you when we leave ship."

"Thank you."

"Sirs!" called a sailor who ran up to them from the port-side of the frigate.

"What is it, Kirkston?" asked Aegis.

The enlisted man pointed towards Cobra Island. "There is an aircraft closing in on us. It has been identified as Scarlett's Sky Hawk, sirs!"

Hawk used his fire-extinguisher to blow himself a path to the port-side of the G.I. Jane. "What the hell is she doing coming back here? Why didn't she call in?"

"Oh, uh, I guess I should have told you sooner, but our radio tower is down." informed Captain Aegis. "We'll have short-range communication back shortly."

As soon as the General could see the Sky Hawk nearing the frigate, a flash of light began violently flickering from the core of Cobra Island. The ruptured port-side of the G.I. Jane's hull began glowing white-hot. Hawk's boots began melting to the deck.

Quickly realizing what just happened, the Joe leader grabbed Doc by the shoulder and yelled to the Captain. "Move! Move ! Move! Get over to the starboard-side! Abandon ship!"

As Hawk ran off, Captain Aegis looked in confusion as the General's feet left a melted-rubber trail behind him. Turning back around, the Captain watched as the port-side transformed into a molten glop and collapsed into the sea. Steam blasted up from the water below. Now grasping what was happening, Captain Aegis tried to run away, but it was too late: he burst into flame and slid down into the ocean along with the massive amounts of molten steel.

Hawk and Doc made it to the starboard-side just as the entire ship began to feel ferociously hot. Sailors were jumping over the ship's side and splashing down into the steaming water.

"What happened to the Captain?" asked Doc.

Hawk turned around to look, but could only see the deck tower collapse onto the molten side of the deck. "He's gone! Get overboard! Now!"

The two Joes jumped, splashing hard into the hot water twenty-feet below. Once he regained his wits, Hawk looked up from ten-feet underwater—and felt the explosion. The G.I. Jane finally exploded; the combination of ammunition and fuel erupted, spraying red-hot shrapnel into the water. Hawk was immediately cut up by hot metals, but ironically every one of his wounds were instantly cauterized. Looking to his left, the general watched as the few remaining chunks of the Jane's frame tipped backwards and dropped down into the sea.

Doc grabbed Hawk's hand and turned him around. The look of shock was in both men's eyes. They nodded to each other and swam towards the surface. Breaking the water's surface, the Joes gasped for air and looked around. Burning, steaming scrap was everywhere. Men were frantically trying to avoid the damage while keeping their injured friends afloat.

Doc tapped Hawk's shoulder. He pointed east and coughed up some water before he spoke. "The lifeboats are coming back for us, Hawk. We'll be okay."

Hawk frowned. "We just lost our only transport away from Cobra Island, and you think we're okay?"

"Sorry, sir, I just meant our lives are saved. For now." Doc attempted to feel around his pockets for his glasses.

"I know what you meant. I'm just not in the mood to look on the 'bright side' of things right now."

"Of course not, sir."

"Let's get over to those lifeboats and—Scarlett!" Hawk frantically began swimming over towards the wreckage of the Sky Hawk. As he drew closer, the general saw that the flight pod's landing skis had melted off, and the craft was flipped upside down in the water. Suddenly, a crossbow-arrow blasted out of a window, shattering the glass across the water. Scarlett came crawling through the new hole in the cockpit and splashed onto the toasty sea-water.

Hawk swam up next to her and helped his injured teammate stay afloat.

"Glad you were in the area, General." said the Intelligence Trooper as she picked bits of plexi-glass from her body.

"What were you doing coming back here, anyway?" asked Hawk.

Scarlett winced with pain ask she moved her leg. "I came to help you."

Unwilling to laugh, General Hawk at least smiled at that comment.

5.

His cutting torch made quick work of the vent-screen that led into the power-generator station of the Terror Drome. Snake Eyes pulled back the screen and looked down into the room. The vent was placed high off the floor with, unfortunately, nothing below it to step down on. Fortunately, however, the room was nearly empty, with only a couple Techno-Vipers and scientists in white robes walking around the loudly pounding power generators.

Snake Eyes hooked the grapple to the side of the vent and lowered the rope to the floor. After sliding down, he spun around and drew his Uzi, unlocking the safety.

As much as he wanted to start knocking out Cobras, he had to keep his intrusion a secret. While strategically maneuvering around the generators, Snake Eyes found the exit, and slipped out when the Techno-Vipers' backs were turned.

Terror Drome hallways were short, arcing tunnels, and therefore it was impossible to see if anyone was coming at you. Thankfully, they were also built completely with metal, so the footsteps of people walking down the halls echoed almost halfway around the Drome.

Snake Eyes had been in the Terror Drome before, and knew where the entrance to the central launch bay was. It was obviously where Cobra Commander would keep the Matrix Cannon, and luckily was only another twenty meters around the hall.

Footsteps!

Snake Eyes pulled out a silencer and spun it onto the barrel of his Uzi. A few moments later, two Vipers came marching down the hall.

"What the heck!" said one of them.

"That's a Joe!" said the other.

Before they could draw their weapons, Snake Eyes fired a short burst at them, and they fell to their knees. The submachine-gun didn't pack enough punch to break their body armor, but it did knock the wind out of them. The Joe commando hooked his Uzi to his belt and drew his katana. Rushing the Vipers, he swung his sword at their face-plates. The blade cracked them, but didn't penetrate them. Grabbing their faces, the Vipers ran off in panic down the hall. Snake Eyes contemplated chasing them down, but felt that he didn't have time.

After sheathing his katana, the Joe commando turned around and jumped back. Storm Shadow stood alone down the hall, with his arms folded across his chest.

"My brother, you have arrived at last. I was beginning to wonder if you had survived." Lowering his arms, the white ninja revealed his bloody uniform and winced in pain. "As you can see, my wounds still must heal, as I'm sure yours do as well."

Snake Eyes slowly nodded his head, and moved his hand up to his sword. Storm Shadow held out the palm of his hand. "I have not come to fight you, my brother. I have come to help you. In our wounded states, neither one of us can defeat Cobra Commander and his new weapon, but together we can emerge from this battle victorious!" Snake Eyes studied the white ninja doubtfully.

"Snake Eyes, my brother, you have shown me that my empty hatred of you was unfounded and was ultimately destroying me. I owe you this. Take it, for it is unlikely you will ever receive my assistance again."

After thinking for a moment, Snake Eyes let go of his sword, grabbed his Uzi and walked towards the doors to the launch chamber. Storm Shadow was a warrior of many frustrating features and curiosities; but one thing was for certain: he was not a liar. If he meant to help Snake Eyes this day, then by god, Snake Eyes would enjoy fighting next to his brother again.

The two ninjas raised their legs, and kicked the doors in…


	14. Turn of the Tide

**Chapter 14**

**Turn of the Tide**

Crankcase fiddled with the AK-47 that he had picked up on the beach near the Adder. It had been dented by debris flying from an exploding Assault Systems Pod, and so its ammo clip didn't fit in quite right any more. To make things worse, Crankcase could only find two more clips on the beach to feed the rifle. So basically, he had very little ammunition to use, and what he did have probably wouldn't work. Needless to say, he was growing very tense as the Joes approached the Terror Drome.

"Hey, what's that?" asked Bazooka. The rest of the team looked over to where he was pointing. At the "Y" in the road stood a small, blue, reinforced-steel bunker, built out of three metal walls attached together with rivets. A medium-sized radar dish sat atop the tallest steel wall set in the middle, and machine guns were mounted on the side walls.

Overlord smiled. "It's a Surveillance Port, you idiots. Did you honestly think you could just walk up the road to the Terror Drome without a point of clearance?" Around the Surveillance Port scrambled a handful of Vipers and S.A.W.-Vipers; there was even a H.E.A.T.-Viper carrying a high-explosive-anti-tank cannon.

"Get off the road! Now!" barked Grunt. The Joe team jumped for the bushes, but Overlord broke away from the group and ran towards the Surveillance Port. "That son-of-a-!" Grunt raised his rifle, aimed at the Cobra field commander and fired. Overlord yelped in pain, fell flat on his chest and skidded across the gritty ground. Blood oozed from his shoulder.

S.A.W.-Vipers manning the mounted 16mm and 6.5mm machine guns unleashed a heavy spray of suppressive fire while two other Vipers ran out and grabbed their wounded ally. Alpine attempted to turn around from behind a tree and take a shot at the moving Cobras, but the H.E.A.T.-Viper was waiting for him. The Cobra rocketed an anti-tank missile at the tree, causing a fiery blast that knocked Alpine off of his feet.

"Alpine!" cried Bazooka as he stood up from his hidden position behind some rocks. Before he could move towards his injured friend, however, a pair of 6.5mm bullets ripped through his body just above his left kidney. He cringed in pain and dropped to the ground.

Law crawled over to Grunt. "We're getting eaten alive here. We need to retreat."

"We've still got a chance." Grunt cocked his rifle and aimed it through some vines. After aiming for a few seconds, he fired. The head of the S.A.W.-Viper manning the 16mm machine gun snapped back and his body collapsed.

"Nice shot."

"Move!" Grunt pushed Law away and the two Joes crawled through the mud as quickly as possible. Seconds later, a H.E.A.T.-Viper missile exploded exactly where Grunt had fired from.

"See? We made it." said Grunt, smiling.

Frowning, Law pointed back to the Surveillance Port. "And see? There is another Viper manning the machine gun already."

"They'll run out of Vipers eventually."

"And you'll slip up eventually."

Sighing, Grunt looked at Law. "What do you want?"

"I want you to realize that we can't win this fight. We need to retreat."

Gritting his teeth, the Infantryman replied, "No way. We're the only hope the world has—"

"Exactly! That's why we can't screw this up!"

Chuckles came crawling over to the two Joes. "Hey! What are you guys doing? What's our plan, Grunt? We've already lost two guys and no one can make a shot."

With his eyes still locked on Law, Grunt spoke softly but sternly. "We pull back. We'll have to find another way to the Terror Drome."

"Understood." said Chuckles. "But how do we tell the others? They're all on the other side of the road."

Cursing softly, Grunt looked across the dirt path. There was nothing he could do, not even hand signals, considering everyone had to stay completely out of sight.

Too bad Grunt didn't believe in miracles.

1.

Sunshine flickered through the tree-branches as Destro raced the Razorback northward towards the Terror Drome. There hadn't been an ounce of opposition since he had left the beach. Apparently, that fool Cobra Commander had moved all of his forces south to engage the Iron Grenadiers and left himself completely defenseless up north. The impeding battle was beginning to look less and less difficult.

The Baroness began to groan, and the C.E.O. of M.A.R.S. adjusted himself as best he could to comfort her in the one-man cockpit. Her eyes blinked open and she looked up at her lover, then smiled.

"Destro. I knew that you would save me." She closed her eyes again and leaned onto Destro's bicep. After a few moments, a frown spread across her mouth and she opened her enchanting green eyes. She watched Destro staring out of some sort of transparent orange dome and driving a vehicle using one arm. His other arm was wrapped around her while his body was tightly crunched up against hers. After tilting her head up, Baroness noticed palm tree branches passing overhead. She tried to look at the road, but couldn't see over the vehicle's dashboard.

Squirming herself into a more upright position, she asked, "Destro, where am I?"

"Do not panic, my love. We are almost to the Terror Drome."

Baroness jumped up and bonked her head on the domed window of the Razorback. "The Terror Drome? How did we get here? What about the beach?"

Destro patted her on the head. "My Iron Grenadiers managed to get this Razorback onto the shore and I commandeered it. After rescuing you, I began driving across Cobra Island. Amazingly, we have encountered no resistance. It appears that fool Cobra Commander didn't expect us to get past the airport."

Smiling, Baroness rested her head back onto Destro's shoulder. "To be honest, my dear, neither did I."

"Really? My love, I am shocked! Have you so little faith in the strength of my determination?"

"Oh, spare me. You managed to get one assault vehicle onto the island. That says something for the strength of Cobra Commander's forces."

Frowning, Destro cocked his head forward into a listening position. "Forces that I supplied the arms to. We musn't forget that."

Baroness raised her head back up. "What are you listening for?"

"There is gunfire up ahead. Assault rifles mostly. One heavy machine-gun."

After looking to the left and right Baroness guessed, "The Joes?"

Destro nodded as he unlocked the Razorback's weapons systems. "We are approaching the fork in the road that is guarded by a Cobra Surveillance Port. I was anticipating a small skirmish here, but it seems that the Joes have beat us to it."

"Are the Joes still alive?"

"That is a very good question; I know I heard someone shooting weapons up here."

The Surveillance Port came into view as the Razorback rounded a set of trees. Vipers who had been walking down the road cried out in panic and scrambled back to the little blue armored outpost.

"Look." The Baroness pointed to the left at a G.I. Joe who popped up from behind a pile of rocks and fired a Dragunov Sniper Rifle at the fleeing Cobras. One of the terrorists dropped to the gravel-strewn ground while the others dove behind the wall. Almost immediately, the 16mm machine-gun began firing, and bullet-holes began spreading across the thin armor of the Razorback—a vehicle built for speed, not strength.

As bullets pierced the domed orange windshield, spreading cracks across the view of the cockpit, Destro cursed. "Well, this needs to stop." After the touch of a few buttons, a targeting screen displayed a missile-lock on the Surveillance Port, and the Commander of the Iron Grenadiers flipped the "Fire" switch. One of the missiles hanging off the right side of the Razorback flared to life and jumped out of its launcher. In just over a second, the rocket screamed through the air and rammed itself against the small bunker, causing a violent blast that engulfed the structure in smoke and flame. Vipers, engulfed in fire, ran from the explosion, sprinting down the road towards the Terror Drome. Quick rifle bursts from Joes hidden in the bushes ended their attempts at escaping.

The Razorback rolled to a stop a few yards from the smoking wreckage of the Surveillance Port, and Destro pushed open the damaged canopy. The Baroness jumped out, and Destro quickly followed.

"Can't say I'm looking forward to saying this…but thanks, Destro." said Grunt. The Joe Infantry Trooper stepped up from out of the swamp and began reloading his rifle.

"I am not one to ignore an asset, no matter how frustrating he may be." Destro began a damage check of the Razorback.

Baroness looked around the area, particularly in the swamp. "Grunt. You are Grunt, yes? Where is the rest of your team?"

The Joe looked over to Law and Chuckles. "Find the rest of the guys, ASAP." Law nodded and the guys ran to the opposite side of the road. "I only have a handful of troops, and some of them were taken down by the Surveillance Port. I can't tell you how many are still able to fight."

"Most of my men are casualties by now as well." said Destro as he bent his head forward. "This has been a sloppy, rushed engagement, but we had little time to strategize."

Law and Chuckles walked out of the swamp with Alpine sagging between their shoulders. "This isn't good, Grunt." said Chuckles. "Alpine can barely move and Dial-Tone has a broken leg. We can't even find Crankcase, Mainframe or Bazooka."

"What is with you guys?" sneered the Baroness. "I thought you were supposed to be the best in the world."

Grunt walked over and helped lay Alpine down on the road. "Overlord led us into a trap."

"Overlord?" Destro's jaw hit the bottom of his facemask. "The Commander must really be desperate if he's bringing that traitor back into service."

Shaking her head, Baroness walked towards the Surveillance Port and picked up a Viper's assault rifle. "Look, this is all very interesting, but we are wasting time. We need to get into the Terror Drome immediately." She walked over to the Razorback and popped open the front hatch, which covered two driver's seats. "So, are any of you Joes coming?"

As Grunt looked over to Law every muscle in his face tightened up. "I don't want to leave you guys."

"Do it." urged Law. "You're the best qualified of all of us. We'll stay here and take care of Alpine and Dial-Tone. Maybe we'll have time to look for the other guys, too."

Grunt squirmed with uneasiness. "Something is bugging me, Law, like I'm not seeing something that's right in my face."

"Maybe you're just nervous about working with Destro."

Grunt smiled. "I can work with him. It's the Baroness that gives me the creeps." The two Joes laughed, which infuriated the Baroness even more.

"Grunt! Get over here! We need to go!"

Slowly standing up, the Infantry Trooper nodded to his teammates, then walked over to the Razorback. "I've got injured men to take care of Baroness. Sorry if that annoys you." The Cobra Queen simply frowned as the Joe crawled into the left driver's seat and buckled in. Destro climbed back up to the turret seat and Baroness sat on the right driver's seat, then pulled the hatch closed.

"I will transfer drive-control down to your position, Grunt." explained Destro. I will maintain full weapons control from my position."

"And what will I do?" griped the Baroness.

"Look lovely." replied Destro.

As the Razorback drove away, Law looked up at it, swearing that he could hear the Baroness screaming and Grunt laughing.

2.

The doors swung in and slammed against the Launch Shaft's curved walls. Techno- and Tele-Vipers in the room jumped up in shock. The ones on the far side of the shaft saw a black and a white ninja rush into the room and start slashing every cable and trooper in sight at lightning speed. The Vipers closest to the entrance didn't even have time to see what came through the door; they only felt swords slice through their bodies and then see the room go black as they winced in pain and collapsed to the floor.

A pair of Techno-Vipers managed to grab their electro-shock weapons and point it towards the running assailants, but before they had time to pull the triggers, a handful of shuriken impaled one of the Vipers, and a grenade hit the chest of the other—then exploded.

Atop the Matrix Cannon, Cobra Commander was finalizing the coordinates for Houston, Texas when the explosion echoed up from the Terror Drome, causing his targeting screen to vibrate.

"What the hell was that?" The Commander looked down from his seat and hissed in anger as he watched the two miniscule ninjas running around the Launch Shaft chopping down his soldiers. "That traitorous bastard Storm Shadow! He's almost as bad as Overlord!"

Reaching to his back, Cobra Commander unhooked his custom pistol from its holster and cocked it. Pointing it downwards, he took the best shot possible at running ninjas from fifty-feet up.

A bullet-hole punctured the floor directly in front of Storm Shadow, who skidded to a stop and looked up. Stepping to the left, he avoided another shot from above. Snake Eyes ran up to his brother, grabbed him and pulled him over to the base of the elevation tower. The two ninjas stood with their backs against the tower, safely out of the Commander's view; that didn't stop the Head Snake from taking random shots, of course.

"Thank you, Snake Eyes, but I was quite safe. Cobra Commander has a few deadly skills, but marksmanship is not one of them." Storm Shadow looked around the room. "There are still a couple Vipers left in this room, and we have yet to destroy the Matrix Cannon."

Snake Eyes pulled out a grenade and showed it to the white ninja. "Crude, my brother, but in our current physical conditions, it might be the wiser choice." Storm Shadow stepped away from the tower and spread his arms, then called, "Here I am Commander! Take your best shot!" Cobra Commander leaned over and began pulling his trigger like mad.

Snake Eyes stepped out from the other side of the tower, popped the firing pin from the grenade and threw it skyward. The little black orb arced up into the sky and came down right on the Commander's lap.

"What the--? No!" Cobra Commander frantically unhooked his seatbelt and leapt from the side of the Matrix Cannon. As he jumped from the tower, the grenade exploded, causing a chain reaction that engulfed the cannon in a fiery red and orange mushroom. The blast was strong enough to push Cobra Commander past the rim of the Launch Shaft and send him crashing down upon the roof of the Terror Drome, which was only a twenty-foot drop; painful, but more survivable than the fifty-foot drop back to the floor of the Shaft.

As shrapnel and flaming debris rained down upon Snake Eyes and Storm Shadow, the two ninjas looked at each other and bowed their heads in respect—and then the white ninja ran from the room. Snake Eyes slowly sheathed his sword, and walked out.

3.

"Did—did you see that?" asked the Baroness, nearly in a state of shock.

"Yes," growled Destro, "someone has apparently beat us to the Terror Drome and destroyed the Matrix Cannon!"

Grunt stared at the pillar of smoke, sitting atop the Drome like a candle in a birthday cake, and only one name came to mind. "Snake Eyes."

"What? Repeat that!" demanded the Baroness.

"You heard him!" barked Destro. "Apparently the Joe ninja has been excessively active."

"If he destroyed the Cannon, then we can turn around and get me back to my men, right?" asked Grunt.

Destro pushed a few buttons and the lights around Grunt's steering controls flipped off. Lights of similar design turned on up in Destro's turret cockpit. "Drive-Control is mine again. The Matrix Cannon may be gone, but that does not mean it cannot be made again. To ensure that, we still must go to the Terror Drome and wipe out all computer records of its blueprints." The Razorback revved up, spitting dirt into the air as it raced down the road.

"Attacking the Terror Drome like this is suicide!"

"We have no choice."

Grunt kicked the front of his seat.

"Throwing fits is very unprofessional, Joe." mocked the Baroness.

"So is blunt stupidity."

Roaring, Destro called down, "You want reinforcements, Grunt? There are none! The Commander destroyed yours and I have none to offer. Do you want proof?" Destro dialed in a frequency on the Razorback's transmitter and called out. "CV-2, this is LD-1. Come in please. What is your situation?"

After a few seconds of static, a response came, drenched in the chaotic background sounds of war. "Lord Destro, this is Voltar. It is good to hear from you. I had assumed you were killed--."

"Your assumptions were incorrect. What is the battle situation?"

Another brief pause, then a nervous response. "I have ordered a full retreat, sir."

Destro nearly screamed. "Retreat? I commanded that there were to be no retreats under any circumstances!"

"Y-yes, m'lord, but you must understand, we lost contact with you and assumed--."

"Never assume anything about me! Fact is your only concern! Get the forces back into battle immediately!"

"That won't be possible, sir. We have lost over sixty-percent of our forces, and although Cobra has taken even greater loss, they still have far more to wager. We cannot possibly win. We have even lost two frigates, and may not be able to rescue all of our forces."

Destro roared in anger and slammed the brakes of the Razorback. Despite the loud hum of the engine, there was an eerie silence as the Leader of the Iron Grenadiers sat in deep thought. He finally broke the silence. "My orders are this: keep the battle up for another ten minutes or until our losses become seventy-five-percent. Is that clear, Voltar?"

"B-but, m'lord."

"Is that clear?"

"Yes, m'lord. Ten minutes or seventy-five-percent. Will there be anything else?"

"No. Remember what we are fighting for! Destro out."

"Even if we get the plans, how will we--?"

"Not now, Baroness. Not now!" Destro started the Razorback up and headed down the road.

Grunt couldn't wipe the frown off of his face.

4.

"Commander, are you all right?"

Cobra Commander fluttered his eyes open, only to see his reflection in the faceplate of a Viper hunched over him. He immediately pushed the trooper away. "Of course I'm all right, you fool!" He attempted to sit up, but a grogginess quickly overwhelmed him, followed by intense pain throughout his body. The Leader of Cobra slumped back down onto the metallic floor. "Get me a Medi-Viper!"

"Right away, sir!" The Viper stood up and ran over to an intercom station and called down to the medical center.

The sun shone brightly on the Commander's faceplate, heating it up to annoying levels; but the greatest shock was the smell of…smoke? Cobra Commander sat back up, despite the pain, and looked around. He was on the roof of the Terror Drome, near the edge of the Firebat Launch Shaft; and the Matrix Cannon tower was poking out of the center of it with a smoking clump of wreckage at the top.

"No!" cried the Head Snake. He attempted to stand up, but the pain in his shoulders, ribs and left leg knocked him back to the floor. He winced as he hit it again—at least this time it wasn't a twenty-foot drop.

"Commander! Please sit still!" ordered the Viper.

Cobra Commander slowly looked up at the trooper and stared with such intensity that the Viper swore he could see his leader's eyes glaring through his protective metal facemask. "What is your designation?"

"Uh…VP-3457, sir."

"Well, VP-3457, congratulations, you are now a Toxo-Viper. Get out of my sight before I shoot you."

"B-but, sir…"

"Move!"

"Yes, sir." The broken Viper ran from the edge of the Launch Shaft towards the elevator off the roof. As he reached it, a pair of Medi-Vipers ran onto the roof towards their wounded leader.

"Get me to my temple. And give my something for my pains." ordered the twisted Commander.

"As you wish, sir," said one of the Medi-Vipers, "But we really should check your wounds first."

The Commander stared at the Medi-Viper. "Do you want to be a Toxo-Viper as well?" barked the Cobra Leader.

"N-no, sir."

"Then shut up and do what I tell you to!" Hissing, Cobra Commander laid back down and began plotting a new set of schemes and vengeance.

5.

The Terror Drome closed to firing distance, and Destro slowed the Razorback down. The road split to a circular path around the massive cylindrical structure, and Destro followed the path right, heading for the front entrance. Since the Razorback was now close to the building, the massive twin cannons that sat upon the Drome's roof were too close to shoot at the Iron Grenadier vehicle.

But there were other defenses.

A flash flickered from eighty yards down the road, and a second later the Razorback's left-side missile launcher exploded. The vehicle shook violently and nearly flipped over. As it crashed back down, the main turret swung twenty degrees counter-clockwise.

"It's a Stun!" called out Destro. The super-trike that Snake Eyes had avoided earlier rounded the Terror Drome and began firing its main cannons.

"Yep. And it's moving in on us." warned Grunt. Another blast tore into the back of the Razorback. "Give me drive control!"

"Agreed."

"Fire at it, Destro!" demanded the Baroness. Her lover began shooting the 205mm twin cannon, and the Stun swerved right. All of Destro's shots missed, but the Stun was chased off of the road and into the brush.

"Get us out of here, Joe!" ordered Destro.

"I can't! This precious mutant-tank of yours is too badly damaged from the Stun attack."

"It's coming back!" cried the Baroness. The Stun plowed through a large bush and opened fire again. The Razorback took another hit on its lower right side; but this time Destro was ready. Firing the 205mm cannon, the Iron Grenadier leader scored a direct hit on the front left side of the Stun, which knocked the three-wheeled vehicle out of control. A quick second blast from the Razorback struck the front wheel of the Stun, blowing it clear off. The high-tech vehicle collapsed to the ground and skidded.

Grunt popped open his hatch, raised his rifle and ran at the smoking vehicle. "Get out! Get out! Get out!" He fired a half-dozen shots at the Stun, and the Motor-Viper drivers scrambled out of the vehicle and dropped to the ground with their hands on the back of their helmets.

"Impressive." commented Destro as he jumped down from the Razorback turret. "You have a lot of spunk, Grunt."

"Save it, tin-head. Let's just get your blueprints and get out of here."

"Very well. Unfortunately, we no longer have a vehicle."

"Then we go on foot." said the Baroness as she pushed open her canopy and crawled out of the Razorback.

Grunt let out a small laugh. "We may get in, but we'll never make it off the island."

Jumping to the ground, Destro patted the Joe on the back. "Faith, Grunt! You need more faith! I did not come all this way, and sacrifice hundreds of my men, dozens of my vehicles and most importantly: millions of my dollars, to fail when I was mere steps away from victory!"

Grunt shook his head. "You did fail! The Matrix Cannon is gone."

"In my business, Joe, as long you have blueprints, nothing is ever 'gone'."

6.

Cobra Commander gulped down a couple more pain-killers, closed the little opening on his faceplate and leaned against the elevator wall. He could barely stand, but that wasn't going to stop him from getting out of the Terror Drome. His life depended on it.

A Medi-Viper grabbed onto his shoulders and the Commander shook him off. "Commander, please. Let us help you. You're deeply wounded."

"Get me to my Temple, then you can do whatever you need to. Until then, just shut up and keep me awake."

The Medi-Vipers shook their heads in disapproval, but Cobra Commander had too much on his mind. Once he got to the Temple, he would pull back his forces, set up a defensive perimeter around the structure and destroy anything that came within five miles of the great Cobra fortress. Meanwhile, he would get Dr. Mindbender working on another Matrix Cannon that could be shot from the Throne Room of the Cobra Temple. Its range would be limited to the Northern Hemisphere, but that would be acceptable. Last but not least, Tomax and Xamot would get to work on breaking all relations with M.A.R.S.; but not until after they illegally laundered a few million dollars from Destro's precious organization. Once again a perfect set of schemes by the leader of the Cobra Terrorist Organization. He was tempted to order a Medi-Viper to pat him on the back.

Then the elevator doors opened.

"Overlord? What are you doing here?" gasped Cobra Commander as he stared at the Uzi the traitor was pointing in his direction.

"You didn't think that I was interested in following your orders ever again, did you?" Overlord began coughing, and it became clear that the scruffed-up, blood-stained soldier was in a lot of pain. His left arm was completely motionless.

"You're in no condition to usurp power from me again. Look at you! You've been shot!"

"Shut up! Get out of the elevator and head down the hall." Overlord waved the Uzi to his left.

"So, putting me in your old cell, eh? Predictable."

"Just walk. Medi-Vipers, stay in the elevator." As Overlord and Cobra Commander walked away, the doors shut, stranding the Vipers in the little transport.

The two Cobra agents neared the main entrance, and Overlord poked the Uzi's barrel into the Commander's ribs, causing him to cry out in pain. "I thought we were going to the prison cell!"

Overlord smiled. "That would be too easy. I'm not even going to let you suffer. We're just going to wander out into the swamp, I'm going to shoot you and Croc-Master's 'gator's can have what's left of you."

"He doesn't use alligators. Just crocs." pointed out Cobra Commander.

"I can't believe you'd actually know something like that. Open the doors!" Overlord pushed him up to the exit, and the Commander fell onto his good right knee. Slowly standing back up, he contemplated how to get out of this mess, but for once was at a loss for words.

The main doors swung open, but as they did, Cobra Commander and Overlord took a step back as they recognized the man standing in the doorway.

"Why thank you, my dear Cobra Commander. I was afraid that I was going to have to use explosives to get inside."

"Destro!"

7.

The sand crunched as the lifeboat from the G.I. Jane slid onto the shore. Hawk jumped into the splashing water and helped Scarlett over the side. Navy seamen walked onto the beach, quickly scanning the island for any sign of trouble.

"Looks like the team did a bang-up job of clearing the shore." said Doc.

Hawk slowly nodded and scooped Scarlett up into his arms, then carried her onto the hot sand. "Are you okay, Scarlett?"

"I wouldn't mind an umbrella, but I'm alive."

Hawk smiled the best that he could. "I'll see what I can do." The stress of the Jane's destruction, combined with a slow, painful lifeboat rescue and a nail-biter of a ride to the island had just about erased any hope Hawk had left for the mission. But his men were on this tropical slum-pit somewhere, and he had to find them.

"General!" A lieutenant came running up the beach towards Hawk.

"Yes."

"There is wreckage of a Cobra missile-launcher down this way. There are signs of a fight around it."

"Show me. Doc, stay with Scarlett."

"Can do."

As Hawk ran towards the point of interest, it became clear just what had happened. "This is a Cobra Adder." He told the lieutenant. "It must have fired the two missiles that struck the Jane before the Matrix Cannon did." After analyzing the footprints in the sand some more, Hawk pointed towards the swamp. "My men must have taken out the Adder's pilot, then made their way into the swamp here."

"It looks that way, sir."

Hawk took a deep breath and closed his eyes. "Get your men together. We're going to find those Joes."

"Yes, sir.

"That might be easier than you think!" The group turned to their left to see Crankcase standing next to a palm tree about ten yards down the beach.

"Crankcase!" cried out Hawk as he began running towards his teammate. "We were afraid we'd lost you!"

"Let's skip the pleasantries, General. Where's Doc? Bazooka's in bad shape." Mainframe stepped out from the brush carrying the Missile-Specialist on one of his shoulders.

"He's a ways up the beach. Lieutenant! Get Doc down here, pronto!"

The Joes laid Bazooka next to the Adder to offer him some protection from the wind. "Where are the rest of the guys?"

Crankcase sat in frustrated silence, so Mainframe caught the question. "We were pinned down by a Cobra Surveillance Port. Alpine and Dial-Tome got hurt, so Crankcase and I pulled back. We intended to rejoin the fight, but Bazooka came crawling out to us, so we decided to get him out to safety. It…it was bad, sir."

"I wanted to go back, but these guys insisted on coming here!" snapped Crankcase. "We have no idea what happened to the others!"

Hawk frowned, and looked back at Mainframe. "It's all right. The others may be okay, too. You saved Bazooka, and that was the right thing to do."

"We saw a Razorback driving towards the Surveillance Port." said Crankcase. "We're not sure, but it looked like Destro was in it."

"Destro? He really is in this full-throttle. As far as we could tell, the Iron Grenadiers were getting eaten-alive by the Cobra forces. I'm amazed that one vehicle got ashore."

Doc ran around the Adder and knelt down by Bazooka. "I heard there was an injured football-player over here."

"He took a couple by the left kidney." explained Mainframe.

"Ouch. Let me take a look."

As Doc worked on Bazooka, the other Joes walked back towards the swamp's edge. Hawk nodded towards the Terror Drome. "Smoke. Somebody's been busy."

"At least it's in a good way." said Crankcase.

"Maybe." Hawk looked at the Navy seamen. "I want to know what's happening on this island. The sailors can hold this shore and help Doc. We're going in. You guys remember the way?"

Crankcase groaned. "Every soggy footstep."

"Good. Let's inform the others, then move out."


	15. Trust

**Chapter 15**

**Trust**

A pair of explosions thundered over the waving ocean, spewing debris across the remains of Iron Grenadiers and Vipers floating in the bloody waters off the southern coast of Cobra Island. Heaping piles of trashed tanks and aircraft lay strewn across the surf, with the largest piles sitting farthest up the beach and burning the most intensely. The setting sun provided a vivid backdrop to the scenery of destruction.

Streaks of tracer-fire and the smoky exhaust trails from missiles poured back-and-forth through the air, obliterating even more crafts and taking down more soldiers. Despite their intense determination, the few remaining Iron Grenadiers could not make their way more than ankle-deep through the tide. Voltar stood at the side of a massive D.E.M.O.N., with his hand gripping the assault-vehicle's side almost as hard as his jaw was clamped together. Losses had just reached eighty-percent, and Cobra was still pushing him back. That was it. No more favors for Destro; it was time to go.

Picking up a small radio from his pocket, Voltar growled and pressed the transmission button. "This is Voltar, commander of the Iron Grenadier invasion force. To anyone under my command that is still alive: Retreat! I say again: Retreat! All Iron Grenadiers in the vicinity of Cobra Island must break for the ocean and rendezvous at the D.S.S. Anastasia. Retreat!"

Tightly gripping the radio, nearly to the point of crushing the small plastic device, Voltar shoved it back into his pocket and turned to face the sea. Sitting as a faint speck out on the horizon, the Anastasia looked completely impossible to reach, especially in the condition the Grenadiers were in. Times like these were rare. Times of…of failure; when he regretted being so damn loyal to that Scottish psychopath.

Voltar blew his whistle, then fired a volley of bullets with his golden assault rifle. Looking away from the shore, he watched as swarms of Iron Grenadiers—many of them limping or holding on to dangling arms—ran into the ocean waters. The last handful of Grenadier vehicles began popping out of the smoky cloud that hovered over the island.

A pair of A.G.P.s dove from the sky, closely followed by a rather beaten-looking F.A.N.G. II. The black Cobra prop-plane evidently had seen a lot of action today; it was down to its last two missiles, and was intent on using them on the Anti-Gravity Pods. With a deep hissing sound, a missile launched from the F.A.N.G. and raced toward the closest A.G.P. Less than a second later, the pod exploded, raining debris over the D.E.M.O.N. that Voltar still stood next to.

As chips of metal clanked upon his helmet, Destro's General looked behind him and saw his Vulture, Arbe, swoop down from the sky, flap its wings and land on the perch that Voltar kept on his backpack. It was responding to the whistle blow from a few minutes earlier, as it was trained to do. Voltar reached into his pocket and pulled out a food treat for his pet. It was always a little disturbing to see the fresh blood on the vulture's beak—had it come from friend or foe?—but that wasn't important right now.

Another explosion thundered from the sky. Voltar dared to look up, and was surprised to see that it was the F.A.N.G. II that had been destroyed. How the last A.G.P. survived was a mind-boggling question.

"General Voltar!" cried an Iron Grenadier running through the water, "Are we really in retreat?"

Destro's General padded the food treat crumbs from his glove and looked out towards the Anastasia. "Yes, Lieutenant. We are finally in retreat. You'd better drop all of your gear and start swimming."

As Voltar swam away from Cobra Island, the only refreshing thing he noticed was that there were no Cobras of any kind following the Iron Grenadiers.

1.

"Confirmed, Commander Xamot. The Iron Grenadiers are in full retreat!" stated a Tele-Viper holding a pair of very large binoculars.

"Then victory is ours, dear brother!" cheered Tomax from his comfortable position in the battlefield control section of a separated Maggot artillery vehicle.

Standing next to the 155mm artillery cannon station, Xamot did not carry the same enthusiasm that his brother did. "Then why do I feel like we have lost?"

Tomax looked up from the control station with a rare state of confusion over what his brother was thinking about. "Please explain."

"I am pleased that Destro's forces are leaving, but at what cost to us? We have lost three times what the Iron Grenadiers have. They may not know it, but our defenses were about to break. If they had stayed just an hour longer…"

Jumping down from the control vehicle, Tomax wrapped his arm around his twin. "My brother, you cannot dwell on 'What If's?' We survived! The fact is they did not stay, and we won! Enjoy our victory and use it to our advantage!"

Xamot smiled. "I do not think Cobra Commander will be enjoying our victory."

Tomax' joyous mood dampened. "Indeed. Perhaps it would be best for us to return to our offices at Extensive Enterprises…"

"…and leave this debacle for our magnificent leader to clean up? I couldn't agree with you more, dear brother!"

The twins began laughing, and locked arm-in-arm, walked off toward the western shore, where they had wisely kept a Mamba ready to take them home.

Looking at each other in shock, the Cobra Officers now left in charge at the scene threw down their rifles and ran towards the jungle.

It will be months before order is restored in the Cobra armed forces.

2.

Snake Eyes walked briskly through the rain forest, and kept an eye open for crocodiles. Now that there were no longer any explosions coming from the south, he could listen for anything moving through the brush.

His wounds were still tearing at him. They had been mildly repaired during his flight to Guantanamo, but not on the Coast Guard helicopter. The pain-killers he had been given had worn off hours ago. At least now it was over. The Matrix Cannon was destroyed. Cobra Commander was possibly dead. And most importantly of all—at least to Snake Eyes—Storm Shadow was no longer hunting him. Things weren't totally resolved between the "brothers", but at least they could rest for a while and let their wounds heal—at least the physical ones.

And Scarlett. How he missed Scarlett. He would do everything he could to—a hissing sound!

Turning to his right, Snake Eyes caught sight of a black arrow hissing through the air, but he could not escape its path before it stabbed into his right shoulder. Grabbing the arrow, the Joe commando tore it out and aimed his Uzi to the right. Another arrow whisked through the air, but this time Snake Eyes was ready for it, and stepped out of its way, just barely in time. Taking a calculated guess as to where the arrows were being launched from, he fired his sub-machine-gun. A third arrow flew in, but this time he couldn't fully escape it, and it scraped his chest.

Running to a tree for cover, Snake Eyes fired another shot, and watched another arrow fly past him. Feeling that his Uzi was almost out of ammo, he unloaded one more short burst, and this time heard a cry of pain. Knowing for sure where the assailant was now, Snake Eyes dropped the Uzi and slowly unsheathed his katana. He stepped out from behind the tree and was immediately shot in the foot. Now bolted to the ground, Snake Eyes chopped the arrow and slid his foot off of it. Ignoring the pain, the Joe commando ran through the forest towards a large tree about thirty-yards away. Another arrow fired, but the black ninja rolled forward and pinned himself to the trunk of the tree.

A great rustle shook the branches, and a loud thud could be heard on the other side. Snake Eyes raced around the trunk and before the archer could get away, he slashed his back. Screaming out in pain, the assailant fell face-first to the ground.

He was wearing gray camouflage.

Using his unharmed foot, Snake Eyes rolled the body over and confirmed that it was indeed Firefly.

But something didn't seem right.

First of all, Firefly had gotten his ribs shattered by Snake Eyes back in Peru. And second, the Cobra Saboteur had never used bows and arrows before. Something was wrong here.

Looking over to the bow that Firefly had been using, Snake Eyes immediately got his answer. It was a Sonic Bow!

Turning around, Snake Eyes saw Firefly standing behind him. The saboteur pulled his hood off and revealed himself to be Zartan.

"You are quite a difficult shot, Snake Eyes. All Arashikage are, I guess. Still, it's nice to know that I gave your foot quite a scar!"

Gripping his katana even tighter, the Joe Ninja fought the temptation to strike.

"Believe me, I had no desire to attack you. Let's just say Cobra Commander made me an offer I couldn't refuse."

Snake Eyes took a step forward, and Zartan held up his hands. "Hold on, hold on! I can make you a deal! I have some information that you will find very, very useful. Let me go, and you can have it."

Snake Eyes waved his sword, indicating he wanted to listen.

"Good, good." Zartan told Snake Eyes his little secrets, and the masked Joe stepped back in shock.

"Then I can go?" asked the smiling Dreadnok leader. Snake Eyes nodded, but as Zartan walked away, almost laughing, the commando tapped his shoulder with the katana. "Yes?" growled Zartan as he turned. Snake Eyes' roundhouse kick leveled him to the ground.

The Commando ran back to the Terror Drome as fast as he could.

3.

"Out." ordered Destro as he stood in front of the Terror Drome's exit. The Scottish lord backed up as Overlord and Cobra Commander hesitantly obeyed his command and walked out onto the concrete roadway that encircled the battle station.

"Excellent. Now, Overlord, drop your weapon and step away from the Commander."

Pressing his Uzi harder against the Commander's head, Overlord glared at Destro. "You don't really think I'm going to let this bastard live, do you?" The sound of an assault rifle cocking forced Overlord to turn his head to the right, where he saw Baroness aiming a Viper rifle at him.

"Yes, actually, I do." replied Destro.

Desperately trying to ignore the feel of the sweat trickling down his forehead, Overlord stepped forward and wrapped his left arm around Cobra Commander's neck. "I'll make sure that if I go down, then so does he!"

"Tsk, tsk, Overlord! And I thought you were made of sterner stuff." teased Destro.

Overlord heard a scruff behind him, but before he could turn around to see what it was, Grunt smashed the butt of his rifle into the back of the Cobra traitor's head. Overlord slumped to the ground, and Cobra Commander hobbled away as fast as he could. Grunt stepped on Overlord's wrist, knelt down and pulled the Uzi out of his hand.

Cobra Commander weakly took a hunched stance at Destro's side. "Excellent work, my friend and eternal ally, Destro!" The Iron Grenadier Leader frowned. "Now, kill that traitorous fool immediately! And when you're done with him, finish off that Joe."

"Destro, you can't--!" griped the Baroness, but her lover raised his hand to silence her. He turned to his former ally and glared. Swinging the back of his left hand, he knocked the weakened Cobra ruler to the ground.

"What do you think you are doing?"

"Cobra Commander, do you honestly think I came here to save you? You truly are a fool." Aiming his pistol at the Head Snake, Destro's arm began to shiver. "You used me to build the Matrix Cannon, stole the design, nearly had me killed in Peru, then left me to my fate against the Joes."

"Destro, I would never--!"

"Shut up! I'm not even finished! I nearly lost the Baroness trying to build that infernal weapon for you. And worst of all, forgive me for saying this dear Baroness, but worst of all, my army lies in ruins thanks to this insipid assault on your accursed little island!"

"You attacked me! We could have made a deal!"

Destro grabbed the Commander by the neck. "Deal? Deal?" he screamed. "You did everything you could to keep me away from the Matrix Cannon! How do I know you didn't even try to kill me?"

"That's…that's absurd! I would never betray you…Destro."

"Ha!"

"P-please, Destro. I'll…I'll replace your army. For free!"

4.

Grunt shook his head as he listened to Destro scream with rage. He could swear he saw steam pouring from the big guy's ears. What was more impressive was watching Cobra Commander snivel like the coward he truly was.

Doing what he felt was his civil duty, the Infantry Trooper began dragging Overlord's limp body over to the Terror Drome and sat it up against the side. Looking over to the eastern roadway, Grunt jumped in surprise as he saw Hawk, Crankcase and Mainframe walking down the road. The Infantry Trooper ran over to his fellow Joes.

"Hawk!" whispered Grunt as he cautiously approached the General.

"Grunt! Good to see you."

"Shhh…" ushered Grunt as he put his finger to his lips. "It's getting nasty over there. I don't think we should be exciting things any."

Hawk studied the scene with a raised eyebrow. "What's the situation?"

Grunt turned around and sighed. "Destro is asking ol' Fang-Face to stand up for his crimes. I have to admit, I've never seen chrome-dome so mad before."

"It looks like the Matrix Cannon got taken out." said Crankcase.

"Yeah." confirmed Grunt. "Destro was not too happy about that."

"Good." said Hawk, who looked over to the fighting terrorists standing just a few yards away. "This is our chance, men. Cobra's leaders are right here, ready for arrest. Perfect."

"Hawk!" called a voice from behind. The team turned around and saw Bazooka running up the road.

"Bazooka? What are you doing here?" asked the General. "You're wounded!"

"I…I had to help. You need all the help you can get."

Hawk looked at the panting missile trooper, then shrugged his shoulders. "Well, you're here. I don't want to grab these guys while they're so mad. Let's take a look inside that Terror Drome while Cobra Commander and Destro fight for a little while."

"D-Destro?" Bazooka began watching the confrontation with intense fascination.

The Joe team walked up to the entrance of the Drome, but before they entered, Grunt noticed something was wrong.

"Hey. Where are Mainframe and Bazooka?"

To add panic to a disturbing question, the sound of a woman screaming filled the air. The Joes spun around to see the Baroness running towards Mainframe and Bazooka—who had their arms wrapped around Destro and were strangling him!

"Get off of him you animals! Leave my precious Destro alone!" She started beating at Bazooka with the butt of her rifle, but he pushed her to the ground, where she smacked down hard on the concrete. Seeing his lover get hurt only enraged Destro further.

"I do not know why you have chosen to attack me like this, but I will not allow you to harm the Baroness!" Destro heaved off Mainframe and swung a hard punch into Bazooka's face. The Joes fell to the ground…but then stood right back up, as if nothing had happened to them. Bazooka wiped the blood from his mouth and ran for Destro's waist and latched on. Mainframe picked up a tree branch from the ground and smacked the Lord of Castle Destro hard in his metallic facemask.

"What is going on?" inquired Destro. "They're like zombies!"

Behind him, Cobra Commander began cackling. As he painfully picked up the Baroness' dropped assault rifle with one hand, he took a few steps back. "For all intents and purposes, they are, Destro."

"What are you talking about, you fool?"

"I knew that you would throw a fit about my use of the Matrix Cannon. I'm not the fool you take me for. As a safety plan, I took two of the Joes we captured in Peru and had them mentally programmed to kill you on sight. That way—"

"That way you could blame the Joe team and laugh all the way to the bank!" snarled Baroness.

Destro dropped to one knee as the weight of the Joes began to overwhelm him. "Damn…you…Cobra Commander."

"I am very proud of the Medi-Viper unit I had in Peru. They were very skilled in the art of brainwashing. But I'm afraid the Joes are of no more use to me now." The Head Snake aimed the rifle at the pile of fighters, and took aim.

Baroness attempted to step up and stop the Commander, but her pelvis was in too much pain for her to even stand up. "Stop, Commander! I'll give you whatever you want!"

"You don't have anything I want, you traitor." The Leader of Cobra began to squeeze the trigger, but as he did, a rock pelted the side of the rifle. The gun fired, but its aim was knocked far off.

"What the hell is going on?" barked Cobra Commander. He turned his head right to see who had thrown the rock, and was immediately smashed in the faceplate by a five-pound chunk of concrete. His head snapped back and he crashed to the ground; the assault rifle skidded away from him across the concrete.

Baroness turned to see who had thrown the rocks, and Snake Eyes ran past her. The commando grabbed Mainframe and threw him off of Destro. He then knocked him out with a swift kick. Bazooka was kicking the Iron Grenadier, when Snake Eyes grabbed him from behind, lifted him into the air and carried him over to Mainframe and pushed him to the ground. Before he could get back up, Snake Eyes punched him and he slumped onto Mainframe's body.

Hawk walked over to Snake Eyes, who was now hunched over and grabbing his stomach. "It's a good thing you came along when you did, Snake Eyes. I assume you knew about the Commander's brainwashing scheme?"

Snake Eyes nodded, then moved his finger in a "Z" motion.

"Z?" asked Grunt. "Zartan? He told you about the plan?" Nodding again, Snake Eyes looked over to Bazooka and Mainframe. Grunt walked to and knelt by his teammates. "When we found them in a medical lab back in Peru, I had wondered if Cobra had done something to them, but I never considered they'd be used for internal backstabbing; but I guess that's what the big snake is best at, right?"

Hawk put his hand on Grunt's shoulder. "Don't kick yourself too hard. There's no way you could have known what was going to happen." Looking over to Destro, who was slowly rising up from the ground, the General frowned. "So now what? I can't just leave you here to kill the Commander. You should all be taken prisoner."

Dusting himself off, Destro shook his head, then froze, grabbed his neck and groaned. "Don't worry, General. Despite what has happened to me, I have to intention of killing the fool. My business arrangement with him will change, however."

"Why stay tied with Cobra? M.A.R.S. could be a legitimate company."

"It's time for you to leave, General."

"Excuse me? You're not exactly in the position to make demands."

"Aren't I? For all intents and purposes, you and your team are stranded on this little hellhole, with no way off unless I provide you the transportation."

Hawk almost laughed. "I think we can find a method of transportation and 'borrow' it."

Destro smiled. "I think the hundreds of Cobra Vipers making their way up from the southern shore at this very time will make that a very difficult task. I can only assume that they are extremely frustrated from fighting my Iron Grenadiers for so long, and if they see a small, wounded group of G.I. Joes to pick on…"

Sighing, Hawk swung his rifle over his shoulder. "I get your point. We'll leave. Any transportation to offer us?"

Destro looked to the north. "There is a small airfield up north. There are no planes, but you may find some F.A.N.G. helicopters or Flight Pods."

"Thanks." Bazooka and Mainframe were picked up, and the Joe team began walking away, but Hawk stopped next to Destro and stared at him. "Just remember this: if you or Cobra Commander build another Matrix Cannon, we will hunt you down with a license to kill. No mercy."

"After what the Commander has done to me regarding the Matrix Cannon, I have no intention of allowing its construction ever again." promised Destro.

"Good." With that, the Joes began their retreat from Cobra Island.

Baroness crawled over to Destro and asked, "You mean that? You will never build another Matrix Cannon?"

Destro knelt next to his lover and picked her up. "Of course not, my dear. But I can't let my enemies…" He looked over to Cobra Commander. "Or even my 'friends' know that."

After kissing the Baroness, he walked over to the Commander, looked down at his twisted unconscious body, and smiled.

5.

Doc and Chuckles gently set Alpine behind the scrap metal wall that Law and the Navy Seamen had been constructing for the last hour. It was built of chunks of A.S.P. parts that the men had been breaking apart, and was finally large enough to protect Scarlett, Dial-Tone and Alpine from the sunlight. Of course, the sun was almost to the horizon now, but it had helped for a while.

Law was happy that Hawk had found him with Chuckles and the others on the roadway, but was disappointed that he was sent back to the beach to help Doc. He was itching for a good fight with some Cobras, although he'd never admit that to Grunt, especially after what he said to him by the road. One thing was for sure, Law really missed his dog, Order.

"How is everyone, Doc?" asked the MP.

"They're doing fine, now that the heat's going down."

"Great."

Doc sighed and looked toward the ground. "I should never have let Bazooka go. His wounds were too severe."

"He was determined to help Hawk find the others. You stopped his bleeding. I'm sure Hawk will keep him out of trouble."

"That guy…" sneered Alpine, "That guy is too much of a numbskull to…stay out of trouble."

"You stay quiet and get some rest. You're lucky you're not in a coma." warned Doc.

A soft humming noise caught Law's ear, and he looked north. A Trubble Bubble rose over the palm trees and closed in on the eastern shore. Following closely behind it was a pair of F.A.N.G. helicopters. They had been equipped with cots on both sides. Law drew his pistol, but a Navy ensign ran up to him and called out. "They're our guys! It's General Hawk!"

Law, Chuckles and Doc ran over to the Flight Pod as it landed, blowing sand in every direction. Hawk stepped out from the flight seat, trying to wave dust from the air.

"Hawk! It's great to see you!" cheered Chuckles. "But I didn't expect to see you in Cobra equipment!"

"No time for pleasantries, Chuckles. Cobra wants us off this island, fast. We've secured a hydrofoil and pair of Water Moccasins up on the north shore, but time is a factor. Let's get the injured secured onto the F.A.N.G.s and get them back first. Then we'll have to start shuttling everyone as fast as possible. Let's go!"

In less than an hour, the Joes and Navy Seamen were all crammed onto the Moray and Moccasins, splashing through the Gulf of Mexico back towards the United States of America.

6.

"Wha-what happened?"

"Ah, Cobra Commander! So good to see you up and around again."

"Destro? Oh no!"

"Oh yes!" The head of M.A.R.S. walked over to the table that the Commander was lying down upon. "We have some discussion to ensue."

Placing his shaky hand on his faceplate, the Head Snake tried to look away. "Look, I'm sorry about building a Matrix Cannon, honestly. Can we just let this whole thing go?"

Destro pounded his fist on the table. "Over eighty-percent of my private army is destroyed, and you want to let bygones be bygones? Absolutely not!"

Sitting up, Cobra Commander winced in pain and grabbed his leg. "Look, Destro, Despite what has happened between us today, I know that we can still be friends. After all, we are both men of abundant wealth and power. I happen to have a more generous supply of the former."

Destro slowly shook his head. "You have lost an important outpost in Peru, and your Cobra Island forces are nearly in ruins, yet you ignore these facts? What kind of a fool are you?

"As I said before, Destro, I am not the fool you take me for. With all the war going on in the world, I have become a very wealthy man, selling arms and provoking chaos wherever I can. Needless to say, Cobra is as rich and powerful as it has ever been, and…well, it needs to grow." The Commander reached out his hand. "It needs you, Destro. It needs your wonderful weapons. Don't abandon our alliance. Not yet. Not when you are so close to achieving your goal of keeping mankind in a constant state of war."

Destro stood in silence, studying the faceless titanium-steel plate looking back at him. Was there a sneer behind the metal, or an honest look of hope? Cobra Commander was not a man known for his honesty—after all, hadn't he just tried to kill Destro? And he knew how to manipulate men, that was for damn sure.

"One thing that always impresses me, Commander, is just how incredible of a salesman you are. It is a fact that I often forget, but you always remind me just when all my respect for you has vanished." Destro turned around and walked towards the door. "Our alliance stands, my dear Cobra Commander, but my price has gone up. You will replace my army, after which you will pay thirty-percent more for all future purchases from M.A.R.S."

After a short sigh, the Commander nodded. "Very well, Destro. But I hope that you remember Cobra is my organization, under my control. I am free to do with it as I so desire."

"Granted." Destro turned around to stare at the Cobra Leader. "But not with weapons that you steal from me. Understood?"

"Fine." Destro began walking out of the room, but before he was fully into the hallway, the Commander called out, "Get me a Medi-Viper!"

Destro punched the wall and proceeded out of the Terror Drome.

7.

Snake Eyes sat at the starboard-stern side of the Moray. Scarlett laid on his lap, but was not asleep. Rest really wasn't an option, considering how loud the hydrofoil's jet engine was; but at least they were moderately comfortable.

Scarlett looked up at her lover and feigned a smile. Snake Eyes wiped a tear from her eyes. "I'm…I'm sorry, Snake Eyes. It's just that…these last couple of weeks have been hell. On both of us. On the whole team. I'm just glad that it's over." She laughed at the ridiculous statement she just made. "Well, at least it's put on pause for a while." She looked back down. "I hope that things truly have calmed between you and Storm Shadow." Snake Eyes nodded and pet her hair.

Chuckles squirmed to the back of the boat and knelt down. "Hey guys. Man, there are just too many people on this thing. Walking around is a bit tight."

"What do you need, Chuckles?" asked Scarlett with a huff.

The Joe undercover trooper spread a huge grin across his face. "I just wanted to let you guys know that Hawk made contact with a cruiseship less than thirty knots away. Looks like we'll be goin' home in style."

Scarlett smiled back. "You know, that's the kind of news I really needed to hear." Chuckles looked at Snake Eyes, who gave him a "thumbs up".

"Alright then. I'll leave you two lovebirds alone." Chuckles stood up and walked away.

"Even better news." teased Scarlett, who dug her head deeper into Snake Eyes' chest, and managed to fall asleep.


	16. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

The pitter-patter of rain danced across the surface of the drawing room's huge window. Gentle thunder and flashes of lightning seemed to add personality to the already enchanting green landscape that spread across the Highlands. The dark gray sky seemed menacing, but a pale white lining encircled the horizon as it always did, showing a glitter of hope for a dreary day.

Coming back home was exactly what Destro needed. After all the stress of the Matrix Cannon debacle, spending a week with Voltar to redesign his army, then fighting with Cobra Commander over how much the snake would pay for, James McCullen Destro was tired. Very tired.

The Earl Grey was surprisingly bland today. Destro would have to speak to his chef about that. He didn't pay the man a six-figure salary to stir up weak tea.

Perhaps visiting the Baroness in her room would cheer him up. It usually did. Her injuries were just about healed; perhaps she could go for a walk with him throughout the Castle.

Destro set his tea cup onto the table by the window and turned around. A gray silhouette stood in the doorway. The Lord of Castle Destro smiled.

"Storm Shadow! Excellent! I must shamefully admit that I had forgotten about our appointment, but you are as timely as ever. Please, come in. We have much to discuss."

The white ninja stepped silently into the drawing room, looking cautiously for any guards. Satisfied that Destro was alone, he began to speak. "Why have you once again called me to your castle, Destro? Did I not clearly express my disapproval for coming here?"

Destro poured some tea and offered it to Storm Shadow, who ignored it. "I don't want to make you uncomfortable for too long, Storm Shadow, so I will make this brief. I was pleased with your performance as I worked to construct the Matrix Cannon. I offer you a high-ranking position in the Iron Grenadiers, at triple the pay Cobra Commander now gives you."

Storm Shadow stood in silence, apparently analyzing what Destro had just said.

"Believe me, white ninja, you will not be asked to do any more 'petty chores'." Destro smiled.

Storm Shadow walked over to the large window and watched the storm. "Cobra Commander warned me that you would try to buy me over. At first I didn't believe him, but it seems I forgot that he is a salesman. He is an expert on such matters."

Destro frowned, then took a sip of tea. He immediately sniffed and put the tea back onto the table. "What did he offer you?"

"His offer was very tempting, but that is not why I choose to stay with him."

"What could possibly make you want to stay with that moron?"

"I choose to stay because I swore allegiance to him long ago. I will not betray him." Storm Shadow looked over to Destro with a stern look on his face. "At least not yet."

With that, the white ninja gave out a loud cry, raised his leg and kicked the window. The glass shattered, unleashing a gush of storm winds and rain into the drawing room. Destro moaned his disgust, and Storm Shadow leapt out of the window.

Walking to the window's edge, Destro could see the white ninja run across the courtyard, knocking down guards, then push his way out of the main gate.

As his butler ran into the drawing room expressing concern, the Lord of Castle Destro marched out. Perhaps the Baroness was ready for that walk by now.


End file.

G. I. Joe, Adventure