In a secret basement beneath the soon-to-be-opened Carob Method Fitness Center, the Baroness paced, her heels making clicking sounds on the floor. It wasn't so much a nervous habit as a sign that she was annoyed. Destro would be visiting shortly and she wasn't in the mood to deal with him. She found it suspicious he would choose to spend time with her when she was busy overseeing a pretty blond agent, currently going under the codename Mrs. White. The Baroness believed Destro to have more than a passing interest in blonds. She had even disguised herself as one once and as she had suspected, he welcomed her advances. She knew that it hadn't been very fair. There was no way to make a man completely stop looking. That was the bitter truth of the world.
The Baroness knew the way men worked and used it to her advantage fully. Most men wanted her for her money, her power, her body – at least she knew that Destro would not have interest in two of those attributes. But did he really love her? After she had set a chain of events in motion which resulted in the destruction of his ancestral home, he had gotten angry with her. However, it was not over the mansion directly but what horror she might have brought down on herself. After all she had done, she was still his first concern. She smiled to herself. Still, she couldn't help but test him to see if it really could be true, to see if anything had changed. She wanted the assurance it hadn't.
Destro had tried several times to convince the Baroness to quit Cobra and take a position with his company. She would have no part of it. She liked the position that she held. She was able to get away with a lot under Cobra Commander, in part because of her connections with Destro. Cobra was more in line with her interests anyway. She could command armies with Cobra. She had less taste for the more capitalistic world of Destro. She felt that old money should be used for grander pursuits than self-perpetuation. That needn't be hard. It was true that Destro was not in his business solely for money, but for a centuries old grudge. Still, as steeped in tradition as Destro was, he had more in common with the Crimson Twins than she would ever dare say to his face.
The Baroness switched on one of the large viewing screens to watch the work taking place on the floors above. In part, as Destro's arrival time approached, she wanted to see that Mrs. White was being kept suitably busy. The main floor was filled with Cobra agents. They were mostly dressed as Carob staff or delivery men. They were putting in place state-of-the-art exercise equipment and setting up sound systems. Mrs. White was overseeing them. There was a certain cheerleader aspect to the woman. It wasn't a usual character trait for the average Cobra agent but it might all be feigned. Either way, the Baroness preferred it not be directed at Destro. He was probably just coming to whine anyway. While he didn't seem like the type to most people who knew him, or of him, the Baroness found Destro to be a surprisingly needy man.
Destro descended into the secret control center via a hidden elevator. He took brisk, confident strides towards the Baroness upon the elevator's arrival.
"Destro, Darling," the Baroness welcomed Destro with open arms. "Welcome. It is wonderful to see you. I was surprised to hear you were on your way over. I know you are quite busy."
"I will always make time for you, my dear Baroness," Destro replied. Although he wore a full head mask, there was a certain tenderness to his expression as he spoke. He embraced the Baroness. After she discretely pulled away, he put his hands on her shoulders and spoke again. "How are you?"
"I am well. Most of my time is spent looking over the shoulder of that underling, Mrs. White," the Baroness hated to bring her up but her days had been filled with little else. "It's frustrating to constantly be correcting others mistakes instead of just doing it right the first time."
"It seems we are in similar predicaments then," said Destro. He started walking around the room, gesturing with his arms for emphasis. The Baroness turned her head and rolled her eyes, knowing what was coming. "I just recently met with those infernal twins. They have still not completed the Australian power station needed for Operation Constrictor. They had all sorts of excuses. Cobra Commander is too focused on defeating the Joes to truly keep Tomax and Xamot in line. Cobra Commander should have hired me to construct the power stations."
"It may be for the best," the Baroness tried to sound sympathetic and reasonable as she followed his lead across the room. "Mindbender took the brunt of the commander's displeasure for delaying the mission. Without his part of the plan, Cobra Commander may have placed the blame on your designs."
"True enough," Destro sighed. "And if Mindbender's scheme works, it will be good for all of us, but instead of going for the kill, they are playing foolish games with the Joes. My devices were designed with full knowledge of GI Joe's capabilities. Cobra Commander is losing sight of his goals again. Cobra wasn't created to defeat and shame GI Joe but to take over the world."
"Don't worry yourself over it," the Baroness said soothingly as she caressed his shoulder. For a man who wasn't a member of Cobra, a man who had his hands in so many other things, he concerned himself greatly with the workings of the organization. Sometimes he used the excuse that he had to ensure his future business by ensuring his customers continued to exist, but the Baroness knew that was a weak argument at best. She mused to herself that perhaps Destro was concerned for her sake. Then again, she had a feeling it was just as much about the relationship between Destro and Cobra Commander as it was about the relationship between Destro and herself. "Cobra Commander is well aware of his resources. I'm sure Tomax and Xamot will get you what you need soon."
"Yes, yes, they claim that they have a new supplier. Given the looks on their faces, I am wary of just what that means."
#-#-#-#-#
When the hangar's technical crew gave clearance, Cover Girl, Scarlett, Wild Bill and Zap approached the transports that had just returned from the Texas mission. They were followed by some of the more senior greenshirts and infirmary staff that had been left on base. There was plenty to be done in breaking down a mission, especially because many of the mission participants weren't in any condition to help out.
"They should have just sent me down there a couple days ago," said Cover Girl. She was walking a bit faster than normal in anticipation of surveying the damage done to the vehicles. "I could have told them what was salvageable and what could be scrapped. It might have saved them some effort."
"I don't think they expected they would be staying an extra couple of days Cover Girl," said Wild Bill. "By the time they realized, they had other things to worry about. It must've been overlooked."
"It has to be hauled back either way," said Scarlett. "It's a security issue."
"That much steel has to be worth something to Uncle Sam too," added Zap.
"I know, but it's a lot easier to handle something declared scrap than something that's supposed to remain fixable," said Cover Girl.
"I see your point," said Scarlett. Some of the greenshirts from the mission were gingerly moving a severely damaged VAMP out of their transport.
"We're going to be very busy down in the motorpool," Cover Girl said resignedly as she watched similar scenes unfold throughout the hangar. She bid Wild Bill and the others adieu and began to direct half of the greenshirts they had brought along to follow her lead as she began to triage the unloaded vehicles.
The infirmary staff quickly spotted the transport that the medics and injured had come home in and began making their way over. Wounded greenshirts who could walk were filtering out own their own while wounded Cobra agents were being handled delicately by a light guard. Doc was probably still directing things from inside the plane.
"I'll take the rest of the greenshirts and get to unloading the small stuff," said Zap. He knew that Wild Bill needed to speak with Flint and that Scarlett was anxious to see her friends in one piece.
"Thanks Zap," Scarlett smiled. "Small stuff" wasn't exactly small. There were crates of weapons, rations and other supplies that needed to be taken care of.
Wild Bill and Scarlett caught up to Flint and Lady Jaye as they were descending from their transport. Both looked notably tired from both the battle and the days following spent cleaning up. Though worn out, there was something undeniably charismatic about Flint. He appeared both in command of the situation yet easily approachable at the same time.
"Welcome back pardners," said Wild Bill as he came to a stop just short of the transport ramp. Scarlett waved, offering a weak smile.
"Something tells me you're not here just to welcome us back," Flint said with a wry smile, looking Wild Bill square in the sunglasses.
"Don't mean that the sentiments not there though," Bill grinned. "But you're right, Duke wants to know the highlights pronto. Assuming nothing's pressing, that means you can have some down time before the debriefing."
"Is that so? And then why isn't he here?" Flint found himself casting a quick glance at Scarlett, who in turn was glancing away.
"He's taken it upon himself to fill in for Beach Head," said Wild Bill.
"Anything to keep out of the office huh?"
"He was pretty upset being sent home early."
"I don't doubt that," said Flint. "So who's been overseeing things?"
"Oh he does that just fine as well," said Wild Bill. "Though Cutter and I have been handling the little things. But anyway, about those highlights..."
"Right, right. Well, I don't think there's much in terms of show stoppers," said Flint. "We have quite a few Cobra agents to send off to Blackwater with Zartan, but they're mostly small fry."
"Zartan's not being sent to Blackwater," Scarlett interrupted. "Not this time. We're holding him here. Duke worked out all the details with the higher ups."
"I wish I could have seen the smug look wiped off of Zartan's face when Duke informed him," said Wild Bill. "Apparently he had laughed off the idea of questioning, expecting to be busted out of prison within days."
"Been able to get anything out of him since?" asked Lady Jaye.
"Not that I've heard," Scarlett frowned bitterly. "But it's to be expected. If we can hold him until trial this time, it will be progress. Did you find out anything from your captives?"
"The grunts were kept in the dark as usual," said Lady Jaye. "We did pick up one guy who appeared to be running the operation, but he's more tight-lipped than your average snake. He won't even bother taunting us. He's paranoid about every scrap of information, no matter how inconsequential. We've actually gotten more from the standard troops than him."
"Does he have a name?" asked Scarlett.
"Yeah, not that he would tell us. The regular Cobra agents call him Professor Plum," said Lady Jaye. "Hopefully I can dig up a real name in the next few days."
"I see Cobra's reached a new low in code names," Wild Bill chuckled. "So no luck from the personnel, any from the Cobra tech?"
"We got their ultrasonic weapon. I'm looking forward to taking it apart. No luck on the synthoids though," Short-Fuze descended from the transport, followed by Flash. His frustration was clear. "This was our best bet at unlocking the secrets of Cobra's synthoids but Professor Plum did a fine job of destroying the equipment. Got the jamming equipment while he was at it too."
"Aw it's not so bad Short-Fuze," said Flash. "I think we confirmed a few things that had only been theories and got plenty of circumstantial information to help us guess at the gaps. Plus, with the ultrasonic weapon, I think we did okay."
"Between that and the gift Zartan left behind, you'll have plenty to keep you occupied, that's for sure," said Scarlett.
"Indeed," said Flash. He nodded in Short-Fuze's direction and the two began to move away from Wild Bill and the others. "Now let's go see about getting that ultrasonic device unloaded."
"Is there anything else?" asked Wild Bill.
"I think that's it," said Flint.
"Well why don't you two go rest up then," said Wild Bill. "We can handle things here."
"Nah, I better wrap this up myself. Thanks though. Any help would certainly be appreciated," said Flint. He turned to Lady Jaye. "You can if you want to though. It's certainly tempting."
"No, count me in too," Lady Jaye offered with a tired smile. "Things will go faster with the two of us."
Wild Bill watched Flint and Lady Jaye return to directing the break down of the mission. He was about to leave to catch up with Duke when he noticed Timber running up to him and Scarlett. Stalker and Snake Eyes were following behind at a leisurely pace. Wild Bill knelt down and started scratching Timber behind the ears. He was such a good dog, well wolf, but dog enough in Bill's eyes.
"Hey there Timber," said Wild Bill. "I heard you got a little spooked by all the noises those Cobra baddies were broadcasting."
Timber continued to enjoy Wild Bill's attention, not responding to his words. Scarlett jogged to meet Snake Eyes and Stalker on their way over.
"Snake Eyes! Stalker! How are you?" Scarlett caught up to them and gave Snake Eyes a hug. Snake Eyes returned her embrace, squeezing her tightly. It didn't feel like a hug so much as someone hanging on for dear life. Scarlett's eyes widened and her face fell. "Snake Eyes, what's wrong?"
Snake Eyes let go of Scarlett, making no other communicative gestures. He proceeded to walk towards the exit to the hangar, his head downturned. He shifted his injured shoulder slightly, having strained the stitches. Timber broke away from Wild Bill, letting out a quiet whimper and following his master.
"Snake Eyes?" Scarlett called again, mostly to herself. She continued to stare at Snake Eyes' back as he walked away. "What's with him?"
"Storm Shadow," Stalker stated simply as he took a step forward to stand next to Scarlett.
"Oh."
The two stood and watched for another moment before Scarlett spoke again. "So, how are you? How's the injury?"
"Annoying but I've had worse," said Stalker. "I'm pretty sure the desk jockeying I'm going to have to be doing will get more annoying than the rib pain real fast."
"At least it will mean more healing," said Scarlett.
"I guess so," said Stalker. "How about you? You look a little tired."
"I'm okay. I went up a weight class in PT this morning. I'm really feeling it this time," Scarlett replied.
"You think Beach Head's schedule for you needs adjustment?" asked Stalker.
"Nah, I probably just had a bad morning."
"Well, don't injure yourself."
"I won't."
During Stalker and Scarlett's brief conversation, Wild Bill had gotten up off the floor and walked over to join them. "Howdy Stalker. Good to be seeing you in the flesh."
"Likewise," said Stalker. "How are things on the base?"
"Things have been hopping here, what with so many people gone and so much to do," replied Wild Bill. "Of course, it's nothing compared to what you've been doing out in the field."
"It's all part of a team effort," said Stalker. "Those in the field need those back at headquarters. We were in a tight spot when we lost contact."
"Well that's a right good attitude to have about it," said Wild Bill with a grin. "Especially because it seems like you're going to be stuck here until those ribs heal."
"Yeah, you don't need to remind me."
"Well rest up and we'll catch up more later," said Wild Bill. "I've got to let Duke know you're back."
The three Joes parted ways – Wild Bill to the obstacle course, Stalker to his quarters, and Scarlett stayed to help with the unloading. Cover Girl was overseeing the vehicles. Zap was doing likewise with the aircraft. Doc was directing the injured, coordinating with Gung Ho who had charged himself with the Cobra prisoners. Roadblock was handling the munition, ration and supply crates. Flint was technically managing it all, but the Joes mostly had it covered, so when his direct attention wasn't needed he found himself, with Lady Jaye's help, directing the greenshirts and assisting Roadblock with the crates.
#-#-#-#-#
Airtight, Barbecue, Mutt, Junkyard and Tripwire walked down the busy Manhattan streets. They had taken to a routine of meeting up daily in the busiest of areas. At first it was so that they could report on their progress and so they would have plenty of extra eyes for the crowded borough. However, it had evolved into more of a social meeting fairly quickly.
There was little that the four Joes (and Junkyard) could do. New York City was just too big and intelligence field work wasn't their specialty. Airtight surmised that they had really been sent to the city so that they would be there should the unthinkable happen. There would be no transit time and they would have already familiarized themselves with the area. If something occurred elsewhere, they could easily be pulled back. Uncle Sam rather not have idle employees however, so while they were waiting, they might as well pitch in on the search. The Joe team had a penchant for stumbling upon Cobra's plots.
Most days, they split up and explored different areas individually, meeting only for lunch. They had considered taking different shifts, especially so they could have an eye on the Extensive Enterprises building every hour of the day, but Duke had let them know it was unnecessary. The Joes already had intelligence agents watching the Extensive Enterprise headquarters.
Airtight acted as the de facto leader of the mission. It wasn't entirely intentional or official, just another thing that had evolved out of the situation. Mutt wasn't a take charge kind of guy when it came to people and not dogs. Barbecue was the same but for a different reason. He was so much an affable 'one of the guys' that he rarely put his foot down about anything. Tripwire was extremely awkward in all matters not involving explosives. Airtight never considered himself a business-like guy, but he liked to have things ordered and thus found himself filling the role.
The excited barking of Junkyard interrupted Airtight's thoughts.
"No again Junk!" Mutt admonished the dog, trying to lead him away from the hot dog vendor that had attracted his attention. "Come on boy, you know better than that."
Barbecue chuckled. "It seems ol' Junkyard is enjoying his undercover role."
"A little too well if you ask me," Mutt grumbled.
"Well if someone was a little better at playing the blind man, someone wouldn't have this little predicament on his hands." Barbecue grinned. He bent down and began to scratch Junkyard behind the ears. "However, someone else is going to get spoiled by Lady Jaye when she hears what a good undercover agent he's been, hasn't he?"
Junkyard answered positively and followed the Joes down the sidewalk, away from the hotdog cart.
It wasn't long before Tripwire managed to run into another pedestrian. "Sorry about that!" he called after the lady. He scratched the back of his head and frowned slightly when the woman didn't turn around or acknowledge him.
"Typical New Yorker. No common courtesy," Barbecue tsked. Airtight groaned inwardly, knowing a rant was coming. Barbecue continued. "You're from Connecticut Airtight, you know what I'm talking about right?"
"Actually, we have more of a problem with Massho – " Airtight started mumbling under his breath but thought better of it. Barbecue was all smiles usually, but took the rivalry between Boston and New York seriously.
"Excuse me?"
"Nothing," said Airtight. "Anyway, come on Barbecue, you're going to run into a few rude folks anywhere. Most people here are just minding their own business."
"Man I hate this city," Barbecue said, pretty much ignoring Airtight's words. "Duke should have sent some people who are actually from New York, like Zap or someone."
"Well, I'm pretty much from around here," offered Mutt. The canine specialist was raised in northern New Jersey.
"Somehow I don't think the New Yorkers would see it that way," said Barbecue. He paused before coming to a realization and speaking again. "Mutt, you're not a Yankees fan are you?"
"No, Mets if anything," Mutt said.
"That's good," said Barbecue. "People just like the Yankees because they buy their way to a winning season. It's easy to like a team that wins all the time. True fans stick by their team whatever the record."
Airtight counted his blessings. It seemed that Barbecue was ending on a note of Red Sox pride instead of continuing on a long diatribe against the Yankees. Airtight had heard that one way too many times.
"Waaah." Tripwire was once again falling over his own two feet. Airtight was thankful that it wasn't another collision with a civilian, though he had to agree with Barbecue that the last time wasn't Tripwire's fault. The pedestrian was in a rush and obviously didn't care who she bumped shoulders with. However, Airtight wasn't going to feed Barbecue's indignation with the city.
At least Tripwire didn't seem injured by the fall. He usually had his Joe uniform to protect himself, but the four of them were dressed more inconspicuously in casual wear. He lifted himself slighty with his hands and looked back at is feet as if he expected to find a bump in the sidewalk or an errant banana peel. Seeing nothing, he continued to push himself up off the ground.
Turning his head back around to view what was in front of him, Tripwire noticed a tabloid newspaper on the ground, its pages opened like an upside down book. Once he got to his knees, he brushed off the small grains of rock and dirt that had embedded into his palms on impact and picked up the newspaper.
"What's that ya got there?" asked Mutt as Tripwire got to his feet.
"The paper," Tripwire replied as he began to flip through the pages. "Seems to be in perfectly fine condition too."
Barbecue tsked. He had seen quite a few papers just dropped in the streets that day. "Littering."
"Wait, is that the Post?" Airtight turned his head to look at the cover. "Don't read that, it'll rot your brain."
"It doesn't seem so bad," Tripwire said, his head still in the tabloid.
The group continued walking. Despite not looking up while he read, Tripwire managed not to fall or run into anyone. Suddenly, he stopped walking and looked up from the paper.
"Whoa, what is it Tripwire?" asked Barbecue as he nearly ran into his fellow Joe.
"I need to go buy something," Tripwire said blankly. He didn't even turn his head to look at Barbecue as he shoved the tabloid haphazardly at the Joe firefighter. Barbecue almost dropped it. Tripwire started jogging down the street.
"Buy what?" Airtight called after him. Mutt and Barbecue looked at him confusedly. Airtight only shrugged in response.
"A Yankees pennant!" Tripwire called back.
"What? The season's long over anyway," Barbecue grumbled to himself. He looked down at the crinkled paper, opening it again to whatever Tripwire had been reading. He looked up. "You know, I think I'm going to get one too."
Barbecue abruptly handed the tabloid to Mutt and started to dash after Tripwire. Mutt furrowed his brow and then turned his head down towards the paper.
"Don't!" Airtight shouted. He snatched the Post from Mutt, being careful to keep a handkerchief between the paper and his bare hand. He sealed it in a plastic bag. "I'm going to run some tests on this back at the room. You go collect those two bozos and make sure they don't get into any trouble."
"Uh, right," said Mutt.
Airtight turned to make eye contact with Junkyard. "I'm counting on you too."
Junkyard barked in response. He could tell something serious was up.
Mutt and Junkyard ran in the same direction as Tripwire and Barbecue. Mutt had lost visual contact with the two oddly-acting Joes in the normal hustle bustle of the city. However, it didn't take him long to get a pretty good idea where his lost compatriots might have run off to. A sizable crowd had formed further down the street, all the people facing in one direction, as if there was some sort of table or booth in front of the crowd. The people were packed pretty tightly, probably shoving against each other somewhat, but otherwise looking orderly.
"Think we found them, ol' pal?" said Mutt.
Junkyard agreed with a yelp.
Surveying the crowd from afar, Mutt was unable to pick out Barbecue and Tripwire but had little doubt they were there. He watched civilians near the front of the crowd leave with small pennants in Yankees colors. They were on sticks, like a flag. The people seemed to be acting normally, so Mutt decided it was best to wait for the two missing Joes to exit the crowd. He didn't want to attract attention by dragging them away. He just hoped the pennants themselves weren't dangerous.
After waiting fifteen minutes, Mutt saw Barbecue and Tripwire emerge from the crowd, pennants in hand. Mutt waited until they were a block away from the crowd before making contact with them. They appeared to be wandering down the sidewalk with no real destination. Both were waving their Yankees pennants with happy vacant grins.
Mutt stepped in front of the two Joes. "Alright you two, time to return to the hotel."
Junkyard circled behind Barbecue and Tripwire as Mutt spoke.
"Huh? It's not time yet. The afternoon is still young," said Barbecue. He smiled and waved his pennant more rapidly.
Mutt wasn't quite sure what he expected in response, but it wasn't that. At least they seemed easy enough to handle. Still, both he and Junkyard remained on guard. "We're having a special meeting."
"Oh? Is that so? I didn't hear about it." Barbecue's expression continued to be joyful. Tripwire remained pleasantly amused with his own pennant.
"Just heard about it myself," Mutt improvised. "Come on, Airtight's waiting for us."
Mutt made a motion with his hand indicating that the two Joes should go ahead of him. He wanted to keep an eye on them. Junkyard followed closely alongside of Barbecue and Tripwire. They kept a leisurely, safe pace back to the hotel.
Airtight greeted them at the door to his and Tripwire's hotel room. He had changed into his Joe uniform. There was some equipment set up on the desk, but it looked like whatever he was working on, he had completed. He motioned Barbecue and Tripwire to take a seat on one of the beds and then pulled Mutt aside.
"What happened?" Airtight asked. He and Mutt were standing by the windows, looking out. Junkyard stayed with the other two Joes, watching them carefully.
"Junk and I found a bunch of people crowding around further down the street. We waited a bit and they came out with those little flags. They've been like that ever since," said Mutt. He glanced towards the bed. Barbecue and Tripwire were still enthralled with their pennants. "I told them we were having a meeting. They came without any trouble."
Airtight nodded, taking in Mutt's words. Mutt continued, "So, did you find anything?"
"The paper came up perfectly normal on any tests I could run here," said Airtight. He frowned. "I'm going to have to send it back to headquarters and let the boys in the lab see if they can find anything. We'll see if Doc has any ideas too."
"And what about them?" Mutt asked, nodding his head toward Barbecue and Tripwire.
"We better send them back too. They might be fine now, but we don't know exactly what we're dealing with," said Airtight. "Contact HQ and send for a pick up. Make sure they send enough support in case Barbecue or Tripwire do something strange during the flight. I'm going to go talk to those two."
Airtight walked over to the pennant-waving Joes and crouched down to their eye level. "How're you guys feeling?"
"Fine, Airtight," Barbecue gave Airtight a funny look.
"Yeah," added Tripwire. "Why are you and Mutt acting so weird? What's going on?"
"Well," Airtight paused, giving himself more time to think. "You two are being called back to base. We're not sure what's going on, but Mutt is getting the details right now from HQ."
"That's good. I can't wait to get out of this city," said Barbecue, still playing with the Yankees pennant.
"Right," said Airtight slowly. "Hey, can I borrow this?"
Airtight plucked the pennant out of Tripwire's hands. He figured that Tripwire was the less willful of the two. He took the pennant back to his desk and began to run tests on it similar to the ones he had run on the paper. Again, similar to the tabloid, he found nothing suspect.
#-#-#-#-#
Destro exited the Carob Method Fitness Center, somewhat more relaxed than when he had entered. He and the random passersby around him took little notice to the fact that the delivery people and staff members were still working on getting the center ready for opening day, though it was after hours, and most normal workers of that type would have gone home as per union rules. Keeping his trenchcoat collar up and his fedora held close to his head, Destro spent no time getting into the car that was waiting for him and taking off.
From a building diagonally across the street, Alpine looked on. He had been watching the strange working hours of the Carob Method employees for quite some time, but seeing Destro was the clincher he needed to be sure that Carob Method was a Cobra front. He immediately contacted headquarters.