Raucous laughter filled the banquet room. The golden walls were draped with crimson curtains, while cobra torches carved from silver jutted out of the walls, lighting the hall with their fire.

The men and women gathered together reveled in their excess and the fruits of their triumph. The enormous serving table held every delicacy and delectable food imaginable. On the steps of the stage at one end of the room, Cobra Commander tapped into a microphone and commanded everyone's attention.

"My loyal servants," Cobra Commander intoned, "Today is a glorious day. It marks the one-year anniversary of our victory over G.I. JOE. The world is ours, free to rape and plunder and pillage. The democracies crumble before our march, one by one, powerless to resist our superior arms and the strength of our will."

Everyone in the room, dressed in Cobra uniforms, raised their hands in salute and cheered their leader.

"The instrument of our victory, as you know, is present here with us. Without him, surely we could not have overcome our most despised nemesis. Once he realized the virtue of the Cobra way, he came to his senses and joined our cause, most wholeheartedly. On the anniversary of our victory, we have double cause to celebrate. Dusty, will you and Lieutenant Demming come to the stage?"

Wearing the blue uniforms of Cobra, Dusty and Demming marched to the stage and climbed its steps. Cobra Commander joined their hands together.

"We celebrate the marriage of two of our own," Cobra Commander said, waxing sentimental. "Ah, the flowers of love have blossomed within the ranks of Cobra. Surely, their passion for each other can only be exceeded by their thirst for world domination. United, they will crush those few G.I. JOE who continue to carry on their pitiful resistance against us. I exhort you to go forth from this day, with renewed strength, to lead us to the promised land and a new generation of Cobra!"

"Hail Dusty!" the Cobras in the room cried.

"Hail Demming!"

"Hail Cobra Commander!"

"Hail Cobra! Cobra! Cobraaa!"

Amidst these exultant cheers, Dusty, his face ashen and emotionless, looked upon his bride. She was a shapely blond woman with piercing blue eyes and full lips. Carol Demming looked back at Dusty, her eyes filled with a mixture of love and lust. Dusty looked again on those lips. He didn't care about anything anymore, not G.I. JOE, his family, or his country, nothing. Right now, all he wanted was to press those lips against his own. Abandoning restraint, Dusty blocked out Cobra Commander and the rest of the Cobra legions as he gave in to his desire and devoured Demming's mouth with his own.

* * *

A trail of clothing led from the door to the queen sized bed of the private chamber. A pair of wall lamps hung from the Cobra sculptures adorning the wall at the head of the bed, throwing the shadows of the two newlyweds into sharp relief. The flickering lamp light gave a dull glow to the room as Dusty and Demming drank in one another. Driven by his lust and passion, Dusty explored Demming's entire body, tasting her, drinking in her curves. Demming could only lie on the bed trembling from Dusty's touch, electricity and excitement running through her like it never had before. As their bodies joined together as one, they held each other tightly, their arms and legs intertwined, pressed against each other as if for dear life. Their joined cries of pleasure echoed throughout the bed chamber.

* * *

The explosion rocked the oil rig, engulfing Duke in flames as he tumbled off the rig into the waters of the Gulf of Mexico. Shipwreck and Deep Six, alarmed, dove and grabbed Duke as he sank into the depths.

Moments later, the Joes had managed to drag Duke into a SHARC and fly him to the G.I. JOE transportable platform. Several of the other Joes, including Scarlett, Flint, Spirit, and Gung-Ho, ran out to meet Shipwreck and Deep Six as they lay Duke on a stretcher.

"You got him!" Flint cried, joyous.

Everyone's mood turned somber when they saw Duke's condition. He was badly burned, and he wasn't breathing.

Shipwreck got on his knees and listened for Duke's breaths.

"Come on, Duke, breathe!" Shipwreck cried as he began delivering mouth-to- mouth resuscitation, while Flint prepared to deliver chest compressions.

After some time, Shipwreck and Flint looked at each other. There was no response from Duke.

"No," Scarlett said sadly as she knelt at Duke's side. Shipwreck put a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"I'm sorry, Scarlett. I know you two were real close."

"No," Scarlett repeated, tears running down her cheek as she rested her head against Duke's chest. "Come back. Please come back."

"This was a setup," Flint said. "Someone tipped off Cobra to this operation."

And I know who that someone is, Flint thought to himself.

* * *

"Remember when we first met?" Demming said to Dusty as they lay together, quietly in bed, the searing flame of their lovemaking having calmed down a bit.

"Yes," Dusty said calmly.

"You were so cocky. You wanted to prove yourself to Cobra. And I knew that you were everything you claimed to be. I knew there was nothing you couldn't do. But when you saw me for the first time, you trembled. It was as if you'd regressed to a thirteen-year old, afraid to come near me, but unable to tear your eyes from me. And that's when I knew that I wanted you."

"You're so beautiful," Dusty said.

Carol Demming turned to gaze into Dusty's eyes, wrapping her arms around his neck, drawing him nearer to her.

"I love you," Demming said tenderly, drawing Dusty into a deep, languorous kiss.

Demming began to grow sleepy as she rested her head on Dusty's shoulder and draped an arm across his bare chest.

Dusty, remaining awake, stared up at the mirrors on the ceiling. He saw himself and Demming lying in each other's arms in bed. His beautiful wife. His beautiful Cobra wife. Dusty instinctively knew he would never be able to separate Demming from her identity as a Cobra agent. He thought of the many friends whose deaths he had caused. He thought about the people he had betrayed. It had all started so innocently. But then Duke had been killed; that hadn't been part of the plan. Soon, he had been entrapped in Cobra's snare, until the day came when he had lost everything and everyone dear to him. Now he lived a life bereft of honor and decency. He was a terrorist, not by choice, but by design.

And this woman-the one woman who ignited his sexual passion as no other woman ever had. Was it such a bad life, after all, having such a sexy wife to come to bed with, after a long hard day of world conquest? She had such a hot body, and she was incredibly sweet to him. She adored him, she was completely devoted to him. It was strange to Dusty that he could call such a woman his very own. So this is what it meant to have someone to share your life with, someone to call your own. Perhaps some day they would have children and start a family of their own. A family of Cobras with the world at their feet. Was that really so bad?

Perhaps, Dusty decided as he observed the flush of contentment on his sleeping wife's cheeks, some things were meant to be.

As Dusty contemplated these things, he saw the man he had become, staring back down at him, and a tear rolled down his face.