"Tell me again why we're here?" Scarlett leaned forward into the cab of the ATC. The heat and humidity had started small beads of sweat cascading down her forehead.

Flint glanced at her in the mirror and grinned; southern girls had no business looking uncomfortable in muggy summers. "Uncle Sugar felt we needed to connect with our public. Quit griping. I for one, could use the break."

"Hunh," Duke snorted at him from the passenger seat, "Whoever thought it would be clever to send good soldiers away from base and off duty needs his head checking. It's the perfect time for a COBRA attack."

"Relax, Duke," Flint looked over his shoulder and changed lanes, "Stalker can handle it. Besides, COBRA's still getting back together after the last catastrophe. We've got some time to kill."

"Murphy's Law, Flint. Whatever bad can happen, will. And with the roster for this trip, it'll happen all at once," he jerked his thumb to the back. Shipwreck, Quick Kick, Footloose, Lady Jaye, Snake-Eyes and Gung-Ho sprawled about the carrier in varying levels of consciousness. Lady Jaye, who had managed to ignore the lulling rhythm of the expressway, crossed her arms.

"I heard that, top. Thanks a lot."

"No problem." Duke grunted and turned to stare out the window.

"He's just pouting because he hates the guy who played him in the movie," Scarlett laughed, "It could've been worse, Duke."

Duke continued to glower out the window, "I'd like to know how. The minute I start acting like that nitwit, I want you to shoot me."

"Will do."

"I guess the movie's what's really behind all this," Lady Jaye crawled next to Scarlett in order to be heard over the symphony of snoring echoing through the carrier.

"You think?" Scarlett moved over to make room.

"Sure. People knew about us before, what with the news conferences headed by our fearless leader," she indicated Duke, who snorted, "but thanks to the movie, the Joes are more than just the top story. Now, we're a happening thing."

"I was always a happening thing." Flint seemed to swell in his seat.

"I think she's talking about the world outside of your head, Flint," Scarlett laughed.

"Seriously, guys, we're a hot commodity. The guys in PR tell me the licensing is huge."

"I like the toys." Scarlett said, "The packaging's nothing to sniff at, either."

Duke snorted again in response and turned to face her, "Well, I don't. There's something creepy about it, little versions of us in toy stores everywhere. My mother's collected a whole set and the entire idea pisses me off."

Scarlett rubbed his head lovingly, "Oh hush, you just want more accessories."

"And why do I have to be smiling all the time?"

"I hear there's even talk of a comic book," Flint's eyes widened with wonder, He took an offramp onto the surface streets, "can you imagine, a comic about us?"

Duke's sour expression refused to lift. He would have far preferred staying on base than participating in this ridiculous endeavor. "I just don't like our lives being out in the open too much. Seems dangerous to me. We're no superheroes. I don't want to be in the limelight."

"If that's how you feel, you're going to just love this weekend." Flint pulled into the parking lot of the Hayatt Regency and parked in the vast lot. "Wake up the troops, we're here!" Lady Jaye and Scarlett began gently shaking the boys awake. Polly squawked angrily.

The Joes gathered their baggage and headed towards the hotel. Scarlett nudged Duke and smiled encouragingly. "Cheer up. Who knew that it would come to this?"

Duke looked up at the large banner hung over the revolving doors and shook his head, "It's unnerving. A G.I. Joe convention? It'll never work."

Deep within the bowels of the COBRA temple, the Baroness was plotting, "Commander, now is the time to strike! The Joes are temporarily weakened. We must take advantage of the situation!"

"Yessssssssssss," the Commander mused, meshing his fingertips together as he gazed down from the gilded dais at the black snake of Europe. "With two Joe leaders away, the headquarters is ripe for the picking. Zartan!"

"Yes Commander?"

"Assemble my forces for an all out assault!!"

"Wait!!!" The Baroness hastily moved to block the door, " You are too hasty!"

"Did I or did I not just hear you advise me to strike, Baroness?" The Commander glared through the eyeholes of his mask.

"I did, Commander," she played half consciously with her sidearm. When the Commander was in one of his moods a certain finesse was required, "Naturally, I would have advised an all out assault on the base, and you flatter me with your support. Of course, you, yourself are a man of subtlety."

The Commander rubbed his chin thoughtfully, "Go on."

"Perhaps one of your more streamlined attacks is called for. It would be far more efficient to go after the Joes who have been assigned to the convention."

"Exactly asssss I was thinking, Baroness."

"You are right, Commander! They will be unprepared. According to records we discovered when we hacked into the hotel's computer, ALL of the rooms set aside for attendees are booked. Two other hotels are nearing capacity."

Zartan rolled his eyes, "Do you expect us to attack the Joes in public?"

"Foolish mercenary! Convention people are utter fanatics! The Joes will be completely overwhelmed. Too busy to notice us. We can sneak in and take them before they notice we've entered the building!"

"YESSSSSSS!" The Commander jumped to his feet, "Arrange a sssmall strike party, Baroness."

"Immediately, Commander."

"Zartan will accompany you."

"Is that necessary, Commander? The fewer recognizable operatives, the better."

"It is my order, Baroness," the Commander rubbed his hands gleefully together, "In one fell swoop, I shall have Flint, Snake Eyes, Scarlett, Lady Jaye, Quick Kick, Gung-Ho, Footloose and that blasted sailor, Shipwreck."

"Don't forget Duke, Commander."

"Trust me," the Commander's voice was dangerously low, "that one'ssslipped through my fingers too many times. This time, he won't escape." He lifted a water goblet from the arm of his throne and squeezed until shards of glass fell from his fingers, "I'll CRUSH them! Hahahahahahahahahahahaha!" His echoing laughter followed the Baroness and Zartan as they strode down the hall.

Duke lay back on the bed and sighed. The convention organizers had set up a meeting for four thirty in the hotel bar, which meant he had forty-five minutes to kill. If he could sit still, cut out any light or sound then just maybe his headache would fade. Flint sat on his bed fingering through the guide of local attractions.

"So, we're basically off duty for this trip?" Flint asked nonchalantly.

"Pretty much," Duke threw an arm over his eyes, "they want us in uniform for the convention, and Uncle Sam will keep us on the clock for our trouble, but you can relax. Just don't do anything you'll regret reading about later. Pass that along."

"And we have to meet this guy downstairs when?"

Duke lifted his arm slightly to glance at his watch, "About forty minutes."

"Ah. So we have some time to kill," Flint absentmindedly fingered the dog-eared pages of the guide.

"Well, I guess. About forty minutes' worth. Whatever you can find to do for forty minutes, be my guest."

"I think I've got a few ideas," grinning to himself, Flint tossed the guide on a nearby table and swaggered out of the room, closing the door quietly behind him

Duke sighed again, "I'll just bet you do," grimacing as a bolt of pain lanced through his skull, he rolled over and buried his head under the cool pillow. A few minutes later there was a quiet knock. "Go away!"

Scarlett stuck her head around the door, "Funny, that's what I was just told in my own room. I've been temporarily relocated. I seek asylum with you, fearless leader, on account of the fact that I REALLY don't want to sit in the hall and listen to the both of them."

"I'll let you in only if you shut up," Duke's pillow-muffled voice was dangerously low.

"My, aren't we perky this afternoon," Scarlett slipped through the door and sat on Duke's bed, "what's the matter?" she patted his back.

"You came in and you didn't shut up."

"Too bad, you're not getting rid of me," she laughed at Duke's groan, "It's your head, isn't it? I figured you weren't at the top of your game in the ATC. You're far from your normally sunny self," she snorted sarcastically, " Did you take anything?"

"No."

"Well why the Hell not, Duke?"

"I can't find anything."

"Oh, poor baby. What about the painkillers Doc gave you?" Duke's headaches were few and far in between, but had achieved legendary status amid the Joes unfortunate enough to be around when one hit. Doc had finally caved to the begging of the unlucky few and forced a prescription on the man. "Did you bring those?"

"No."

"Duke —"

"They make me slow. It's like living in Jell-O," he rolled over, but remained beneath the pillow, "we have to meet these people in a half hour."

"And of course, you want to be as grumpy as possible for that."

"I'd rather be grumpy than spacey."

"How nice for the rest of us," Scarlett pulled the pillow off his face. Duke glared up at her. There were dark circles under his eyes, "oh, man, you look terrible. Sit up."

"Thanks. Why?" Duke rubbed his forehead.

"Just sit up."

Duke pushed himself up, cursing as a wave of nauseating pain washed over him, "Ohh, fuck it!" Scarlett slid behind him and pulled him back against her.

"What a charming afternoon companion you are, Duke," she began to gently massage his head and neck.

"You've been in here for ten minutes, and you still haven't shut up, Red." He felt the muscles in his jaw and neck relax to her ministrations. Scarlett smiled as the knots smoothed out beneath her fingers.

"Where are the others? Snake Eyes, Shipwreck and the rest?" Duke's voice had lost the snarling overtones of pain.

"Snake Eyes is meditating in his room. The others already hit the bar."

"Figures."

The Baroness approached the check-in counter. The convention hotel was booked. The two hotels next door were both full. She was forced to book lodging for herself and her small party at the Days Inn down the road. Unobtrusive, convenient, and, most important of all, affordable. International terrorism was expensive-especially when the leader had a penchant for giant robots and nine-course banquets. The Crimson Twins had recently issued a memo demanding more cost-effective undercover missions. The Ramada was out.

The clerk smiled warmly at her, "Welcome sister, how may I help you?"

The Baroness was dressed as a nun. It was a perfect disguise. No one ever bothered a nun. Zartan, in the somber black garb of a priest, came up next to her and smiled, "We will need a few rooms for the night, good man," he waved the Dreadnoks behind him, similarly outfitted, "we have traveled far and are weary."

"You're kidding me, right? Even priests and stuff don't talk like THAT anymore," the clerk looked cynical.

Behind the counter, the Baroness kicked the mercenary in the shin, "Don't worry about father Natraz. He's from Canada. We're here as chaperones for the noviates."

The clerk looked over at the Dreadnoks. Buzzer, Ripper, and Torch had dressed in their disguises, but all had refused to shave, cut their hair, or even remove their sunglasses. Torch belched loudly. The clerk relaxed. This was more like it. "Using the trip to whip them into shape, Sister? They look a little, uhhhhhh, rough around the edges."

"Many have the calling. We try not to question it. It would be best, however, if my room were slightly removed from those of the men." she winced as she watched Ripper mine his ear for wax. He was rewarded with a substantial gob on the end of his finger.

"Of course, Sister. Remove the temptation from sight, eh?" The clerk put three sets of keys on the counter.

Zartan signed the receipt and smiled, "Yes. How perceptive. We wouldn't want anyone to succumb. Best to keep the sister removed from the young men." As they turned to go to their rooms, Buzzer sneezed into a handkerchief and opened it to examine the contents. He showed it to Ripper and Torch.

Ripper was impressed. "Cooo! That's a big load!".

The Baroness groaned as she pushed out the door, mumbling under her breath "Otherwise I might just give in to temptation and strangle them myself."