A Triumph For Cobra



Cobra Commander could scarcely believe his eyes. The day had started out perfectly, a plan that could not fail. Using Doctor Mindbender's invention, they would convince the people of Iceland to surrender to Cobra's supreme might. Then Major Bludd had announced that a raid on an Incan temple, designed to keep G. I. Joe oblivious to their real plots, had succeeded and that he was proceeding to search it. It sounded simple, excellent... but too good to be true. A few hours later a call from the temple had come in. This time it was Roadblock.



"Sucka, we got a proposition for you. It seems to me that we caught some of your men. I don't know what they wanted but I know it can't be no good," Roadblock said, jerking his thumb toward Major Bludd and Nightowl, bound behind him.



"My men! But how?" he asked.



"Eh, quite simple, really. When they all went into that temple whatchamacallit, we rounded up the rest and waited for them to come out," Shipwreck announced, sticking his head into the picture. "I was tempted to rough the Major up a little, but Roadblock figures he's more important in one piece."



"What we want is our Joes back or we put them on the rack. Might hear some interesting plans of yours," Roadblock finished.



Cobra Commander stewed for a moment. This wasn't what he'd wanted to hear. The Joes in question were ones taken in an earlier raid. He planned on having them covered in gold and used to further motivate the people of Iceland. Now, it would seem, that wouldn't be the case.



Ordinarily he wouldn't care about Major Bludd, but the man did know a lot of Cobra secrets and was prone to squealing like a stuck pig. A deal would have to be reached.



"Very well, G. I. Joe. I will bring your men to the Incan temple, on the condition that my men and I get safe passage back to the Terrordrome."



"Snake-face, you have got yourself a deal. But if it's a trap and I find out, I'm gonna turn your eyeballs inside out."



Cobra Commander terminated the conversation and stormed from his office, only to stumble across Zartan and Destro locked in mortal combat in the middle of the hallway. "What do you two think you're doing?" he demanded. "You're supposed to be on the same side. I cannot have my men fighting amongst themselves at such a critical juncture in my plans. Now then, there is a snag in my plans. Go and fetch the Baroness and the others. We must make new plans."

* * *



Scrap Iron took a look over the controls of the central station. Here, in the heart of Iceland, Cobra's weapon would be operated, and it would be the job of himself and his crew to make sure that everything was working smoothly. There were six of them in total. Hauler was off fetching some supplies, Maxwell no doubt was with him. Vulture and Bone Crusher were putting the final pieces of equipment together and Hook was taking a quick break, it appeared. All according to plan. "Cobra Commander wants this ready today, guys. Get a move on it!" he snapped. All he got for his efforts was a dirty look from both Bone Crusher and Hook. Scrap Iron asked himself, not for the first time, why he bothered.



* * *



Ace, Recondo, Quick Kick, Barbecue and fourteen other officers were marched into the cargo hold of a large jet. Just because they were being returned to G. I. Joe, didn't mean they would be returned in peak condition.



Cobra Commander had opted not to lead the expedition, but to pass this great honour on to Destro and the Crimson Twins. None of them were overly thrilled with the bargain, but would do it nonetheless. There was great power and wealth to be gained if Mindbender's plan was a successful one.



An uneventful trip, to be sure, and soon enough the Joe camp was below. Cobra and Joe vehicles alike lay in varying conditions ranging from unscratched to smoldering heaps of metal that one could only assume had been a tank. With luck, the driver had gotten out in time. Otherwise, well, his or her family would be notified where possible.



There wasn't really a landing strip available, but Tomax made do with what there was. The plane came to a complete stop and he unfastened his seatbelt. "You may release your," he began.



"Grip on the armrests," Xamot chimed in, both brothers laughing as they went to release the Joes.



Destro glowered and slowly pried his hands loose from the seat. He detested the Twins and hated them even more when they were flying the vehicle he was on. He brushed himself off and went to meet with Roadblock.



* * *



Shipwreck and Roadblock were two totally different men. Where the former seemed high-strung and ready for a fight, the latter radiated calm, the kind of calm that told you that he could snap your neck before you had a chance to blink. The two stood to either side of Major Bludd, his head bowed in embarrassment.



"If you got our men, we got your snakes," Roadblock said, pushing Major Bludd so that he fell over into the soft earth.



"We do indeed. Tomax! Xamot! Bring them forward!" Destro called out.



"We only live to serve Cobra," Tomax said.



"And yourself, of course," Xamot added, prodding Ace and the others out into the blazing sun.



"And now our men. Release them," Destro said.



* * *



Doctor Mindbender stood in front of his mirror, idly wondering how he should appear on this the day of his greatest triumph. Cobra Commander would no doubt want to take the credit, but everyone knew the truth, especially him. His Rattler was ready, a lowly Viper would deliver him to command central where he would personally oversee the activation of his mind controlling device. Eight wrist bands sat in his bag near the door. These were the only things that could protect one from the weapon. Each member of Cobra would have to wear them, but it was a small sacrifice for world domination.



"Not too shabby, Mindbender," Airtight said from the door. "I was sent to tell you that a Mister Warren P. Skye is ready for you."



"Excellent," the Doctor replied, walking over to his bag. He slid one of the bands out and placed it around his own wrist. Then he smirked at Airtight and walked out the door. "Next time you see me, Cobra will be triumphant!"



* * *



This was not an encounter Major Bludd was looking forward to, not by a long shot. Cobra Commander would be upset, there would be yelling, and then the inevitable trip to the Arena of Sport for punishment. The Crimson Twins seemed to recognize this too as they played escort.



"I hear Cobra Commander has a new gladiator," Tomax said, "a brute of a man who can crush bone with two fingers."



"He's nothing compared to that martial artist he found, Ezarel is his name. After his village was destroyed he hated any human he came in contact with. He can paralyse with a single touch," Xamot countered.



It went like that through the long walk from the hangar to the throne room, each brother trying to outdo the other in terms of the fearsome warriors that Major Bludd might have to face. Strange half man/half animal creatures, barbarians, giants, ninjas and robots. All seemed like perfectly powerful foes. All scared Major Bludd.



When they reached the end of the hall, the twin doors swung open, admitting the three men. The twins bowed at the waist and stood by the door in case they were needed. Major Bludd was left to walk the remaining distance alone. "Your report, Major," Cobra Commander said, his tone of voice indicating that it had better be good.



"Well, you see Commander, we had the Joes beaten. They were on the run. Then Nightowl and I went into the temple to look around, make it look like we knew what we were doing. We found a large emerald and decided to bring that out. When we got back to the surface, the Joes had come back and taken all our men. Shipwreck and Breaker jumped me and the rest you know," Major Bludd said.



"Large emerald?" Cobra Commander asked. "I presume the Joes have it now."



"Actually, no. Nightowl has it in her bag. My bag already had some Incan writing in it so I put it in hers. The Joes assumed that I would have whatever we came for and took my bag. The blokes didn't even think to look in hers."



"Excellent. You may have just spared your miserable life. Xamot, fetch Nightowl!"



"Yes, Commander."



"As for you, Major Bludd. Consider yourself fortunate that I am far too busy to send you to the Arena. All our equipment must be ready to be moved within the hour."



* * *



Scrap Iron took the printout from Vulture. Everything seemed to be in order here. "Bone Crusher, make sure the pressure gauges are within acceptable limits. The last thing we need is it blowing sky high."



"Yeah, yeah. Whatever you say, Scrap Iron," Bone Crusher replied.



"We've got an aircraft approaching," Maxwell said, one ear tuned to the radio. "It's Doctor Mindbender."



Scrap Iron looked out the window and saw the sleek jet coming in for a landing. When it did the pilot and his passenger emerged and headed directly for the bunker. Scrap Iron didn't like this at all. It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out what was going on. He was being replaced. His chance at glory, gone. His crew would all be thinking the same thing, though they'd never actually admit it. Well, there was nothing for it. Might as well get it over with.



Doctor Mindbender looked around the installation, taking in the beautiful sight of his invention assembled. It took his breath away. The pizza boxes and empty cans of pop also took his breath away, though in the other direction. "Prepare to activate the device in ten minutes. Soon, Iceland will be Cobra's!" he shouted.



The six men snapped to attention and hurriedly began making last minute adjustments and checks. Doctor Mindbender, in the meanwhile, passed out the protective bands. Warren Skye lounged in a chair and consumed a slice of stale pizza.



* * *



Olafur Grimsson sat in the presidential office in Iceland. It was another boring day, with the usual affairs of state raising their ugly heads. Questions of taxes, political prisoners and the like cluttered his schedule. It was a pleasant relief when he learned that Cobra Commander was yet again making demands to the world. It was always good for a good laugh. Everyone knew that he couldn't carry out his threats. He always lost. A flick of his remote and the television turned on. As always, it didn't matter to what station he turned, there was the masked face of terror.



"Citizens of the world," Cobra Commander began, "we at Cobra urge you to surrender your countries to us. We possess weapons of great power and it would be a great tragedy if we were forced to use them. Countless lives will be lost immediately, more from the after effects. You can not win. Accept the inevitable and surrender to Cobra."



Olafur leaned back in his chair and eyed the stack of paperwork. Well, it would make his life easier. And Cobra Commander did have a valid point, lives could be saved by surrendering. It seemed pointless to resist Cobra. He would have to meet with his cabinet.



* * *



Ten minutes after the closed door meeting began, it had ended. The unanimous decision: Surrender to Cobra.



* * *



Cobra Commander couldn't contain his excitement, hugging his secretary, who had the misfortune of being the closest one to him. He pulled himself away from her and sent out the general order; Cobra was moving now.



* * *



G.I. Joe headquarters. Breaker, Duke, Scarlet, Snake Eyes and Sargent Slaughter stood around the television screen as Olafur officially announced that Cobra was now in control of Iceland, his cabinet nodding their agreement in the background. Duke pounded the back of Breaker's chair with his fist. "This has to be some sort of trick. Zartan or Major Bludd," he said.



"I don't think it is, Duke. It's too easy for us to find out the truth. All we'd have to do is go to Iceland, tap Olafur on the shoulder and see if it's a mask. Same goes for any mind controlling device," Breaker replied.



"Then I say we go do just that," Sargent Slaughter said.



"Yo Joe!"



* * *



There wasn't really any need for secrecy now, Destro mused, the world knew what had happened and there was nothing they could do to stop it. Even if G.I. Joe did plan an attack, they'd be outnumbered. Every last Cobra unit was at the Terrordrome, being loaded onto boats or planes. It would probably take a day or two to fully transport everything, but it would be worth it. Once they were entrenched in Iceland, there would be no stopping them. Getting in and out of the country would be tricky, granted, but possible. Stealth vehicles were in the works, and subs that could evade radar were ready to go.



Further, the Crimson Twins would still have Extensive Enterprises up and running, and would be running most of the affairs from the United States. This, plus Iceland's natural resources, meant that they could afford a siege of sorts for quite some time.



As the Dreadnoks moved their vehicles into position, Destro sighed. There were other matters that called for his attention. Zartan knew something he shouldn't know, and that meant that Destro himself would have to go on a little trip to a small fishing village on the coast of France.



* * *



Duke navigated the Killer Whale hovercraft closer to the shore, ignoring the strange buzzing sensation as he crossed the invisible barrier. "Y'know, Duke. I can't help but wonder if we should be doing this," Breaker said. "I mean what are the odds of this being a hoax. We should just turn back."



"I agree, soldier. Deep down I feel that too, but we might as well. Just in case," Duke said. Snake Eyes shrugged his shoulders and hunkered down, his posture indicating a certain amount of fear.



* * *



Maxwell looked at his monitor and quietly motioned Scrap Iron over. "What is it?" he asked.



"Our ticket to getting some credit. One G.I. Joe vehicle. I'll wager a week's pay they're headed for Olafur's mansion to make sure he's the real deal. If we were to get there first..."



"We'd be rewarded. Good thinking Maxwell. You go get the truck ready. I'll tell Mindbender that we're getting some supplies."



* * *



Olafur was content, cleaning out his desk drawers. Sure he was out of a job, but things would be so much better once Cobra was in charge. He could probably even get a job in the army. They always needed men who could shoot a rifle. He was so caught up in the prospects of how high a rank he could get that he failed to notice immediately when the doors opened, admitting G.I. Joe's team.



"You ask."



"No, you ask."



"But if it really is Cobra then..."



"You're the leader."



"But you're the one who insisted that we come."



"Alright, already. I'll go. Hello there, uh, Mister President. I'm Scarlet, from G.I. Joe. You don't mind if we ask you a few questions, do you?"



"President? Not anymore. Cobra runs this place now. Sorry to disappoint, miss," Olafur said.



"Well, that's what we wanted to talk to you about. Make sure that you're really Olafur and that you really want to surrender."



"Oh, I'm really me. My cabinet and I are just scared to death of Cobra and figured that we'd save some trouble and surrender now, rather than later."



Scarlet looked back to the others, who shrugged, and turned back to the former president. She touched his face, tugging on it gently to ensure that it was real. "Radio base. It's legit," she sighed, grateful that soon they'd be leaving and any chance of running into Cobra would be gone.



Breaker politely radioed G.I. Joe base and passed on the news. He'd just finished when Scrap Iron and Maxwell entered the room, guns drawn. "Well, well, well. Looks like we've caught ourselves a couple of G.I. Joes. Put your hands up," he snapped.



Under most circumstances, the five Joes could have taken out the two Cobras. Any one of the Joes could have, really. But, as a result of the mind altering field, each one felt terror take control of their bodies. There was no way they could take out these two. They dropped their weapons and raised their hands.



* * *



It was some five hours after Iceland had announced their formal surrender that Cobra Commander arrived at the presidential mansion. He was greeted there by Doctor Mindbender, Scrap Iron, Warren Skye, Olafur, and the five prisoners. He cackled with glee at the sight. "Excellent work, Scrap Iron. A promotion is in order for you, and you as well Mindbender for this brilliant plan. Get the video cameras ready. I want the world to see me declared king of Iceland!"



* * *



Destro was the only of rank not at the party Cobra Commander was staging. He had his sights set further south and east. The Rattler sat on the runway, it's pilot hurrying to get his gear on. Wild Weasel hadn't been pleased about missing the party, but Destro paid well so it made up for this inconvenience. "Where to, Destro?" he asked.



"France. A little town named St. Nazaire."