Disclaimer: I do not own G. I. Joe, nor any trademark names in this story. I do own Megan Catrenski (Cheshire/ Secret) and any OCs that may appear, unless stated otherwise.

Author's note: I'm about to play merry hell with canon and character development, so if you're a purist/ obsessive, you've been warned. Feel free to flame me if it makes you happy; I'll probably just ignore it.

COLLATERAL DAMAGE

We arrived at the house at four in the morning.

"Best time to attack," Zartan said to me. "Russians proved it. Humans' awareness is low–"

"You're mistaking me for someone who cares," I said softly, sliding out of the car. Storm Shadow had sat in the back seat, which I thought was pretty endearing. Now he got out of the car silently. Mindbender had really done a number on him this time. It was like working with a robot.

"Is he stable enough to leave the island?" I asked Zartan, jerking my head at the ninja.

Zartan shrugged.

"Great."

The guy who owed Cobra the money was living in a beat-up little house on the outskirts of Vegas. Zartan and I leaned against the car, not worried about being spotted: the neighbourhood was dead at this time of night. There weren't even any dogs barking. Storm Shadow had disappeared.

The door to the house opened slightly. "Show time," Zartan grunted, straightening his cowl. I couldn't help it; I smoothed my clothes as well and ran a hand through my hair, spiking it. It was short again, blood-red this time, and I had all my piercings in. I knew I couldn't compare to Storm Shadow or Zartan in terms of scary, but I was hoping I at least didn't look like I should be in high school.

Storm Shadow had the guy pinned to the wall when we strolled into the kitchen. His knife was pressed to his throat, there was a gun on the floor, and from the looks of his wrist and the way it was bent double in the wrong direction, the dude had tried to shoot Storm Shadow. Judging from the hue of his face, he wouldn't have long to regret that mistake if Storm didn't let up.

"You'll have to put him down," I said mildly. "I need to talk to him."

Storm Shadow dropped the man like a sack of potatoes, and I knelt in front of him. "Guess who sent us?"

"Oh god oh god oh god–"

"Not even close. You owe somebody money, don't you?"

"You want the money?" he croaked. "I swear I'll get it, I swear, just give me some time."

"You've had three months," Zartan growled. "You could have made twice what you owe us in three months."

"He has," I told him. "What happened, big guy? Bought your girlfriend a present?" Negative. "Got a drug habit?" Negative, but closer. "You're a dealer, aren't you?" Bingo. "Don't dealers make money? What did you spend it all on?"

"Paying off the cops," Zartan guessed. "Or the judges."

"Or getting rid of them," I said with narrowed eyes, watching the dealer's face. "I'm right, aren't I? You used Cobra's money on a hit man? Idiot."

"There was a cop," the dealer said pathetically. "He was going to arrest me, I had to. Just give me a week," he babbled on, his eyes huge with fear. "A week, just a week, I can get you what you need."

"We don't need the money, our boss wants the money," Zartan said, pulling a knife and inspecting it. "Can he get us the money, Secret?"

"If we gave you a week, could you cough up?" I asked him. Negative. "Nope, he needs more than a week. Two? A month?" Bingo. "Think the boss wants to wait a month, Zartan?"

"Doubt it," Zartan said with an unpleasant smile. "Storm Shadow?"

I got to my feet and stepped aside, not looking back. There was a noise like a meat cleaver biting into a side of roast beef, and a slight gurgle, but otherwise nothing much. Zartan fell into step with me as we left the house and slid back into the car. "Well, that didn't take long," I said laconically to him. "I got all dressed up for nothing."

We sat there, waiting for Storm Shadow. There was a flicker of light in the window and the ninja emerged, leaving the door open behind him. Smoke was already curling out of the house.

"What now?" I asked. "Back to the Island?"

"The Commander wants you to stay with the Dreadnocks," Zartan told me. "We're dropping the ninja at the airport and going to Florida."

"I hate Florida. And I think your sister hates me." I was actually sure Zarana hated me. The Commander had assigned me duties that basically amounted to being the Baroness and Destro's gopher around the island – and being under their suspicious eyes constantly - so I had only run into Zarana briefly, but those encounters had been enough to make me certain that she'd enjoy giving me a few extra, more fatal, piercings.

Storm Shadow got into the car, closing the door behind him. "You alright?" I said casually over my shoulder to him.

"Yes. Are you?"

This was the first initiative he had shown in a month. I tamped down my joy and shrugged. "One less dealing murdering scum can never be a bad thing."

Zartan glanced sideways at me, shimmering into the guise of a mild-looking middle-aged man with glasses. "Maybe we should have made you take him out. You still planning on shooting Dermish when you find him?"

"No," I said, looking out the window. "I plan on tearing him apart with my hands."

That didn't kill the conversation – I was riding with Storm Shadow and Zartan, they couldn't have cared less – but it did mean that there was nothing left to say. We left Storm Shadow at the back fence of the airport and I climbed into the back seat, stretched out and fell asleep.

When I woke up, we were not in Florida.

"Are we in DC?" I asked blearily, sitting up. "Should've turned left at Albuquerque, Zartan."

"Funny. We're rendezvousing with the Dreadnoks here. The Commander doesn't trust you."

"How come?" I rubbed my eyes.

"The Joes have been issued with orders not to kill you if they see you at any of our bases."

"So what? I disappeared during a hostage situation three months ago, I haven't blown anything up yet... did you think I'd automatically get put on their hit list?"

"Whatever. You're with us for now."

He drove down an alley and into a warehouse. Inside were a group of people, wearing leather, patches and dirt like badges of honour, who all stirred at the sight of their leader, then stirred again when they saw me.

I followed Zartan, my face blank, ready to pull the butterfly knife from my boot if I needed to. The bikers were watching me with ugly expressions that did nothing to improve their faces.

"Alright, settle down," Zartan ordered. I was impressed: they all looked at him immediately, though a few eyes strayed back to me, leaning against the wall. "We know why we're here." He looked at me suddenly. "Want to guess, Secret?"

I looked around. "Motorcycles, Molotov cocktails, rocket-launcher... I'm going to go out on a limb and say you're the distractions. Looks like it'll be fun. Can I play?"

A ripple of rough laughter rolled around the room. "No," Zartan said flatly. "You and Zanya are staying here to sanitise the place."

I pouted and leaned back. The other girl he had indicated was doing much the same. I glanced at her, did a double-take. She looked eerily familiar.

Fifteen minutes later, the bikers rolled out of the warehouse. I stretched and walked over to Zanya. "So, got any matches?"

She glared at me. "Don't talk to me, Joe."

"It's Secret. And I'm not a Joe anymore."

"Once a Joe, always a Joe." She stepped towards me. I was twenty-five, she was maybe sixteen, but she was still taller than me.

"Holy shit, you're Zartan's daughter, aren't you?" I cocked my head, looking at her closely. "Wow. You turned out pretty well, considering the pond scum on your gene pool."

She drew her fist back to punch me. I ducked to the side, pulled my butterfly knife and flipped it open, making sure she could see it. Storm Shadow had spent the better part of three months teaching me to use it. If I had to go up against anyone with ninja training, I was screwed – though that was what most people would say, I suppose - but I could bluff with the best of them, and maybe even hold my own in a fight. "You could beat me to a pulp and I could slice your throat," I said calmly. "I don't care either way, but the last thing I need right now is to be running from Zartan and the Joes. So let's just agree to disagree."

"Why the hell should I?" she demanded, face red.

"Because you've been told to leave me alone and I haven't." I smiled at her. "You'd really cross Daddy for a fight you might not win?"

She glared at me, then jerked her head at a can of petrol sitting on its own. "You can start with the petrol, I'm lighting this place up."

I made a face at her back and picked up a petrol can, sloshing the liquid around, wrinkling my nose at the fumes.

"They reckon you want to take out Dermish," Zanya called from the other end of the warehouse.

"They reckon right." I set the can down in the middle of the floor and jogged over to the door with her. She lit a match and flicked it into the room. A flame burst to life instantly, and we beat a quick retreat down the alley.

"Why?" Zanya asked bluntly.

"That's nobody's business but mine," I said shortly.

"What did he do to piss you off?"

"What part of 'not your business' was so hard for you to–"

If we hadn't been talking, we might not have been surprised, but the stupid idiot – and I do blame Zanya for this still – had irritated me enough that I didn't notice the cops until they stepped out in front of us, holding their guns, yelling at us to freeze.

We both stopped. "Pretend to be drunk," I whispered to Zanya, my lips not moving. "Boys," I said, pitching my voice an octave higher and wobbling a little. "How you doin'?"

"Ma'am, I'm going to–"

"Ohmigosh he just said ma'am," I shrieked, turning to Zanya. "They're so cute!"

"There's a building on fire two streets away, ma'am, do you know anything about that?" the other asked harshly.

"It's like good cop bad cop sexy cop," Zanya said, doing a decent job at sounding wasted. She probably had real-life experience to draw off. "Wait, too many cops..."

"What do you two know about the fire?" The first cop sounded like he was about to use the gun on himself.

"We didn't start the fire," I sang (terribly). "It was always burning, since the world's been turning. We didn't start the fire, but when we are gone–"

I pretended to stumble against Zanya, and sat down on the floor. "Wow," I said, looking around. "When did everyone get so big?" My hand slipped into my boot as I spoke. I grabbed Zanya as if to pull myself to my feet with one hand, squeezed her wrist, then, with the other hand, I launched myself at the furthest cop, trusting to Zanya to take out the nearest.

I was fast. Everyone had said it. I was fast enough to take out some dozy cop who thought he was dealing with two drunken hookers, that's for sure. A quick sucker-punch to the forehead, and he fell backwards like a discarded coat. I bent and retrieved the cop's gun, checked it was loaded and looked around, in time to wince as Zanya elbowed the guy in the solar plexus and finished it off with a soccer-style kick to the head.

"Nice throw," she said grudgingly to me.

"Thanks. We should–"

"Freeze!"

"Oh for chrissakes," I sighed. I recognised that voice. I didn't remember breaking a mirror that day, but I must have at some point in the last seven years, because when I turned around I was staring down Beach Head's gun-barrel. Scarlett was right behind him.

"Freeze," he repeated. "Ah don't want ta shoot ya, but Ah will."

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. The alley was dark and the light was at my back; I was wearing a short skirt, singlet top and my hair was a different colour and cut. Hopefully, he wouldn't recognise me until too late.

I stepped forwards, hiding the gun down by my leg. "Hey, Beach. What's up?"

He didn't lower his gun on purpose, but the barrel dropped slightly and his eyes went wide behind the balaclava. "Cheshire?"

I whipped the cop's gun up and shot him twice in the chest, the sounds rolling around the alley. The impact threw him against the wall. "The one and only."

"Beach Head!" Scarlett screamed. She didn't even bother pulling her gun; she just sprang forwards and tackled me.

She was heavier, and I couldn't shake her off as she fastened her hands single-mindedly around my throat. I went for her eyes, gouging long scratches into her face, pummelling her, even grabbing her ponytail and dragging it to the side with all my strength, but it was no use; she was still heavier and her hands were still around my throat.

Suddenly she grunted and collapsed on top of me. I wriggled out from under her to see Zanya, looking very pleased with herself. From the way she was standing, I guessed she had pulled off another kick.

"Thanks," I wheezed. "We need to go, before she comes to."

I dropped the gun and followed Zanya down the alley. She sprinted out of the alley, onto the street, and slid into an unlocked, unmarked van. I leaped into the passenger seat, and she took off with a screech of burning rubber.

"You just shot him," she said slowly.

"Well noticed," I replied waspishly, buckling my seat belt. "Shit, I left the gun. My prints will be all over it." I sighed and leaned back. "Where are we going?"

"We need to rendezvous with Zartan," Zanya said. "If the Joes are here–"

"Why are the Joes here?" I asked. "What were the Dreadnoks cannon fodders for this time?"

She looked at me sideways. "Cobra's trying to grab a new military invention," she said shortly.

"And they thought the Joes would be dumb enough to get distracted by the pretty lights and colours?" I snorted. "They probably went after the Dreadnoks and told Snake Eyes to sit on the tech. Who's your money on, between him and Storm Shadow?"

Her fingers tensed on the wheel. "How did you know Storm Shadow was here?"

I sighed. "Your dad's not that great a liar. Not to me."

She pulled into a dark parking lot and killed the lights. I glanced at her sideways; she was worried. "I can't believe you and Zartan actually like each other," I said. "It's just weird. I mean, for the big bad biker to have a kid he actually likes? Weird."

"I can pull my own weight," she said defiantly, with a hint of pride. "I'm not just along for the ride."

"How'd Zarana take it?"

A gleam of teeth: she was grinning. "Pink-haired bitch."

"Sums her up, doesn't it?"

I felt Zanya relax beside me. "You're alright, Secret. For a Joe."

"Ex-Joe," I corrected her. "Especially after tonight. Maybe I can say I got wiped if I get arrested. Do you know how Mindbender's machine works?"

"The Scanner? Nah. It hurts, I think. Otherwise, I dunno."

"So, your dad," I said, relaxing back on the seat. "How'd he get involved in Cobra? Honestly, he seems pretty smart. I would have thought he'd realise Cobra is a train-wreck waiting for a cliff to fall off."

Zanya was grinning. "What've you heard?"

"I heard that he tried to kill Storm Shadow." I rolled my eyes to show her how little I believed this rumour. I really didn't. Zartan was certainly smart enough to know that if he was going to take out a contract against a ninja, he'd better damn well follow through on the first attempt, because the chances of him getting a second one were slim to none. There was definitely some connection with Storm Shadow, though: Zartan always had a certain look in his eyes around the ninja that I just couldn't quite place.

"That's actually sort of what happened. Dad used to be a hitman," Zanya said casually. "This other guy, Firefly? He got hired by the Commander to take out some American grunt training with Storm Shadow's family. You know ninja clans still exist? Storm Shadow's used to be the best. Dad infiltrated it as a sword-smith or whatever, he stayed undercover for ages until he got ordered to carry out the hit. He was given some high-tech piece-of-shit invention so that he could pull it off from a distance, but something went wrong with the tech, and he got Storm Shadow's uncle by mistake."

"Ouch," I winced. "That's why I prefer a knife."

"Yeah, Cobra technology sucks balls. Anyway, Storm Shadow saw the Cobra chopper, but then the idiot tried to chase it, so he made it look like he had killed his own uncle. Then he tried to infiltrate Cobra, but the Commander caught him and Mindbender washed him." Zanya shrugged. "Guess he figured a ninja would make a good bodyguard."

"Best idea he ever had, you ask me. Heads up," I said suddenly, spotting a clump of fast-moving figures. Zanya switched the engine back on as Zartan pulled the doors open and the Dreadnoks piled into the back of the van.

"What happened?" Zanya asked, pulling out of the lot as quickly as she had driven away from the alley. A flurry of curses floated forwards from the back of the van as numerous Dreadnoks lost their balance and fell into each other. Zartan, kneeling behind us, didn't even sway.

"Bloody ninjas," he said in response. "There's more than just Snake Eyes, you know that? Two others."

"Jinx and Kamakura," I said absently. "How'd they do?"

"Bloody ninjas," he said darkly. I didn't press the issue.

We drove for an hour, until we reached another warehouse. "If we have to burn this one down," I said to Zanya, getting out of the truck, "it's my turn to light the match."

She laughed, and Zartan shot us a surprised look. "She's cool, Dad," Zanya said, catching it. "She shot a Joe."

I waved a hand dismissively. "Zanya kicked one in the head too, you know."

"Good work," a Dreadnok said approvingly, passing us. Zanya swelled with pride.

"Where?" Zartan demanded.

"In the head."

"No, where did you shoot them?"

"Double-tap to the chest with a cop's gun," I said smugly. "He isn't getting up from it. It was Beach Head, too."

Zartan looked at me appraisingly. "Good work," he echoed.

"Thanks." I met his eyes, and smiled. "Think now people will start trusting me?"

"Maybe," he said warily.

I shrugged. "Good enough." Even though apparently this warehouse wasn't to be torched, it hadn't been a complete waste of an evening. I had gotten some very, very interesting ideas.

"We want Storm Shadow to train you," the Commander told me, leaning back in his chair.

I was in front of his desk, feeling like a naughty schoolchild defending herself to the principal. "Why, sir?"

"I've seen Zanya's report. The Joe was wiping the floor with you. You're useless in a fight."

That was a bit harsh. I mean, I had been fighting Scarlett. "I want to know how to fight without guns. I started learning with the Joe ninjas; I want to keep learning now. But honestly... is Storm Shadow actually mentally capable of teaching?"

"Unless you decided to turn against me after all, I don't see the problem," Cobra Commander mused.

"I just shot the Joe's drill master. I'm not going anywhere now. And I really don't like being bored, but again, can he teach me?"

"However he does it, he'll get it done," the Commander said dismissively.

Well, that was hardly reassuring. "Yes sir," I said with a sigh.

Cobra Commander waved his hand in dismissal. "Go."

As I left the room, I pondered what this meant. The Commander had a plan. He was going to use me somehow, but he needed me to be able to fight first. This was... worrying.

A month passed, and nothing happened. Storm Shadow was a less polished coach than Snake Eyes, but at the same time, he was much, much better. Maybe it helped that I could read his face; I didn't know. It was sad, really: beneath the brainwashing, I could tell that he actually enjoyed teaching.

Time passed, until one day, I was training alone in the dojo when the Commander called me into the control centre.

"We have just received these pictures from our agents in New York," he hissed, throwing a sheath of paper at my head. "Explain them!"

"It's Snake Eyes and Scarlett," I said, shrugging. "Guess Zanya's kick isn't as good as she thinks it is."

"And the man next to them?" He was practically spitting with rage.

I looked obediently, then peered more closely. "Son of a bastard!" I gasped. Right next to them, large as life, was Beach Head himself.

"And how do you explain that?" Cobra Commander snarled. "You shot him, didn't you?"

"He was probably wearing armour," I sighed. "That or his muscles can actually deflect bullets. Damn it."

"I'm beginning to doubt your veracity, Secret."

"Zanya saw me shoot Beach Head, twice, in the chest. Do you think she's lying too? If my aim was a little less terrible, I'd have tried for his head, but I thought my chances were better with a bigger target." I shook my own head in disgust. "God... he probably wears a Kevlar balaclava in the field. The man really is bulletproof."

Apparently I was convincing, because Cobra Commander's ruffled feathers settled down almost visibly. He laced his hands behind his back and turned away, presenting me with a target that would have made any hardened assassin drool. I didn't even flinch. After a few moments he turned back and said, "I am sending you and Storm Shadow to the Silent Castle."

"The what castle?" I spluttered before I could help myself. "Sorry, sir," I said, completely straight-faced, as the Commander whirled on me. "It's an excellent name. Continue."

He turned away, much more slowly, and continued. "You and the ninja will travel to the Silent Castle." I bit my tongue, hard, to keep from snickering. "Mindbender and Destro are working on a project there. A new Battle Android Trooper. You will aid them."

I cocked my head. "Robots don't have faces."

He waved his hand. "That's not why they need you. You'll find out when you get there. You leave tomorrow."

I decided to do the obvious thing for once. "Not today, sir?"

"No, not today. You see, today is the day that Storm Shadow will kill General Hawk."