Nine.
Cobra Island.
List-Ticket rode worriedly over the Tomahawk helicopter he was flying. The twin-engined, twin rotored helicopter was the workhorse of the entire G.I. Joe Team, and could be outfitted in numerous ways to perform as necessary in the mission it was deployed in. But running both engines well in the red, even for a short period of time it took to fly from the Tower Continental Hotel to the Harbor, wasn't a requirement—it was dangerous. Duke wanted the whole team together for rapid deployment, and Lift-Ticket was just the man for the job. He just wished Duke would have a little more consideration for the limits of their equipment.
That wasn't on Duke's mind at the moment, back in the passenger compartment with the others. It was something much weightier to deal with.
"All of you now know of our failure to keep Cobra away from Wildman." He honestly began. "If such an event occurred, General Colton and I formulated a last-ditch option; we head to Cobra Island with the intention of either bringing back Wildman, or rendering him 'unusable' to Cobra."
Some of the Joes stirred in surprise, Duke was expecting that. But there was also some confusion as well.
"Render him 'unusable' to Cobra?" Heavy-vehicle operator, Cross-Country, piped up. "Just what in the heck does that mean?"
There was that certain silence that always comes before devastating news; totally dead and filled with dreaded anticipation. Before Duke could explain what he clearly knew was illegal in every sense of the term, Mercer, a former Cobra Viper with a heavy price on his head, turned to Cross-Country with his usual stone-cold expression and explained; "It means we kill him if we cannot bring him back."
"Pentagon cleared this…mission four hours ago, based largely on what they figured Wildman could do for Cobra." Duke explained to them all. "The Brass didn't want anything like that occurring. And gave the go in spite what the UN would say about it."
"That's probably why they approved it, Duke." Roadblock frowned, folding his massive arms across his equally massive chest, the Joe's giant heavy machine-gunner shot a withering look at Duke. "You know they're just dying for an excuse to shut us down—"
"And rebuild the Team in their image. Yes Roadblock, we're taking it in the shorts from all around." Duke quickly countered. "But, there's also a very good chance of us pulling this off without the UN ever knowing we were there. It's a slim chance, but a good chance…"
Then Duke glanced at them all crammed together in the compartment, before asking, "Now, how many of you want to go to Hell with me?"
They all simply stared back at him in shock.
"I'm not going to hold it against you if you want out." Duke then told them. "I have no right to make you undertake a mission that by all conceivable means is illegal—I want you all to know that."
By saying that, he put them all legally into the clear, while at the same time placed full responsibility upon his very shoulders. If things failed, he would be the one blamed in full, and none of the others would suffer as he would—and he knew it. But as the moments rolled by, the silence that followed made Duke become aware of one very important fact…
None of them were going to bail from this.
Dealing with the obnoxious UN Official had largely left her spent and her temperament in absolute disarray. Their observers to the north had spotted the smoke plumes rising from the more serious damaged area of the ship, and the call was to first see if things were alright, then second start insisting on sending an investigations team out to assess any damage to the ship from the 'unfortunate incompatibility of Cobra's specialized scientific equipment with the power systems onboard.'. On that, Yukinama had to repeatedly claim that there was no need for such a visit, since the Ship's engineering crew was well on its way towards solving the polarity problem that caused the explosions in the first place—and that such a visit would only delay the repair work.
Naturally, the UN Official didn't sound too terribly convinced that everything was alright despite all the assurances, and finally threats of pulling out of the area she threw at him. But he wasn't going to yield to anything until he was fully satisfied that there was no harm done to the mission, and he also advised her that if she did leave the area the ship would be forced to return and the study continued under full UN control. That and the demands to speak with the UN Representatives on board, most of whom were now dead from being suicide bombers, finally tipped Yukinama into using her personal Persuader unit on the official over the communications system. It was powerful enough, and so frustrated was she that she turned the strength up higher than it needed to be. By then, she really didn't care if the official's brains were fried. And that went for the other officials that called soon afterward.
After the fourth, and two news reporters, the calls stopped. Yukinama didn't think they'd just invite themselves on board, but posted guards with Persuader generators to be on the look out just the same.
And every now and then, Yukinama would glance at the small monitor near her command chair to see what the Joes were doing…
As if they could do anything; each strapped in separate chairs under the control of separate Persuader ELF system that sent their minds goodness knows where and out of Yukinama's hair. The occasional glance was voluntary on her part. Enough had already happened, and she had no desire to make it worse through inattentiveness.
Then Ms. Candy's face came on the viewer. "We've gone through the ship," she reported, "there's no doubt that Hydra's long gone, and possibly on Cobra Island. But he did leave a few more things to remember him by."
Yukinama winced inwardly, bracing for the worse. "What exactly?"
"Slaver systems." Candy answered. "There are enough of them planted throughout the ship to give us a real case of the fits. We're going to haft to comb over all our equipment for dormant eggs and active cockroaches before we can try using any of them…And then there's the vehicles. Quite a few show signs of—"
"Root it all out, Candy. Just root it all out." Yukinama tiredly told her.
Ms. Candy took that as an order and quickly left, and the monitor once again showed the Joes in their imprisonment.
When viewed during landing approach, the newly rebuilt Cobra Command Complex was an impressive layout consisting of twelve small Inca-fashion zygotes surrounding a massive zygote of the same fashion, all in brilliant white ivory that reflected in the lights of hundreds of large spotlights set all around its several square mile perimeter surrounded by think jungle on all sides. But most impressive of all was the giant crimson hooded cobra head mounted atop the central pyramid that faced northward with its mouth fully open, while forever watching with sinisterly glowing yellow eyes.
But upon landing, it was oblivious that things weren't quite finished. Scaffolding and work crews were dominate in numerous areas, and crated equipment waited for use which was soon coming. Cobra Commander took it upon himself to show off the complex to Wildman, Angel, and a recently awakened, very disgruntled General Colton. As Wildman and Angel said the usual nice things, Colton gazed upon them with undeniable anger, as the Guardsmen prodded him along with the muzzles of their rifles.
"We're in the midst of remodeling." Cobra Commander explained. "Things have been rather hectic lately, do excuse the mess."
"After the UN finds out what's occurred, Commander, this mess will be the least of your worries." Colton coldly levels at the Commander, which earned him a very brutal shove from behind.
"What the United Nations' thinks, does, or says is really none of my concern at the moment, General." Cobra Commander curtly replied. "To be bluntly honest with you, Sir, your being here was an accident—a complete unforeseeable accident. Normally, the Dreadnoks would have simply killed you, but instead they were merciful for some unfathomable reason. I'll need to speak with whoever commands them at the moment when I find the time."
Cobra Commander stood before Colton in a contemplating manner, thinking things out quietly with a gloved hand right where his chin would be. "But, such an opportunity shouldn't be wasted so callously." He reflected, before turning to the Guardsmen. "Take him to the Brainwave Scrambler!" He ordered. "Tell the technicians to ready him for a 'treatment'."
As the Guardsmen started pushing the shuffling Colton away, Cobra Commander flippantly remarked to him, "It's certain to make a new man out of you."
"Charming." Growled Colton as he was pushed along.
"May I have a few last words with him?" Wildman then asked the Commander.
"I'm not going to have him executed, Doctor." Cobra Commander dryly replied. "I'm just going to…change how he considers things."
"I'd like him to understand something." Wildman insisted. "It may help…make things better."
Cobra Commander quietly regarded Wildman for a few moments, making Angel, watching near-by, wondered if things that had been built right up to that point were going to collapse due to the Commander's irritation over Wildman's innocent request. Then the Commander motioned to the Guardsmen to halt, saying crisply, "Very well. But keep it short, Doctor."
Wildman conveyed his thinks with a thankfully earnest smile and hurried nod before stepping away to face Colton, who continued to regard him with the utmost contempt imaginable.
"I mean you no ill will, General." Wildman earnestly began. "But after so many years of reflection, I do not want to ever find myself caged for the benefit of others desires—no matter what the reason."
Colton just glared back. "You contradict yourself, Doctor."
Wildman was quiet, in a sad sort of way, before gently responding, "Life is such, General. No hard feelings?"
Wildman held out his hand towards Colton in an honorable manner. Colton had plenty of hard feelings, and many harsher things to say to Wildman. But he was too decent a man to lower himself for the entertainment of his enemies, especially now, even as manacled as he was.
"None." Colton coolly stated, taking Wildman's hand into his own. And managed to keep his composure as he felt something move between Wildman's hand and his own, to nestle safely under the right manacle.
"I hope to see you soon." Wildman smiled.
The Tour, as it was, was a brief affair. There were areas not completed, areas that were off limits even to one of Wildman's caliber, and eventually various other organizational related matters that required Cobra Commander's immediate presence. That left it up to a single Crimson Guardsman to show them to their rooms, an apartment currently furnished only with the basic needs and left-over vinyl furnishing from the nineteen-seventies that overlooked the main courtyard of the Command Complex.
Not too impossible to deal with, Angel figured. At least the bed was comfortable enough to sit on, and she did watching Wildman pull various items from hidden compartments of the large duffle bag he managed to bring with him to Cobra Island.
Cobra Commander, Angel firmly decided, was a bore—a big egotistical bore who grossly over inflated not only his own importance but also Cobra's 'Grand Plan' for Humanity, as any wannabe tyrant would. But Wildman was still a mystery. It was oblivious now that he wasn't going to defect, that was easy enough to see occurring right before her—especially when he brought out of his bag the pair of large and quite menacing looking machine pistols, with respective holsters and munitions, that he quickly strapped on with haste.
That alone prompted her to do something that she'd wanted to for several hours…
"Mind if I ask you a question?" She asked.
Wildman paused, as he slipped items into his jacket, like an animal would when caught in the glare of a light.
"What's going on?"
He seemed completely unprepared for such a question, even if he realized such was going to be asked of him. Standing there mute and embarrassed, Angel could easily see he was quickly thinking up a response to say.
"It's…not going to be…that easy to explain." Wildman haltingly began. "You'd think I was…insane. But then, you did a very good job of guessing what it was all about back in the elevator. "
Angel blinked in surprise, and Wildman knew he should have said things differently to her. She sat, waiting quietly as he regained himself to speak. "I really should have said that differently." He gushed. "You're very perceptive, you know, either that or you're a very good guesser. Because by now you obliviously know I'm not joining Cobra, despite having very good reasons for doing so. I just hope Cobra Commander hasn't tumbled onto it as easily as you have."
As she sat there, Angel remembered that conversation in the service elevator—especially the part after he snatched her gun away from her…
"That wasn't a meteor that crashed in the Gulf." He had told her. "It was something else."
"Really? What was it suppose to be," she had angrily snapped back, "a spaceship?"
Hewas visibly surprised by that.
Angel felt uneasy. It was all a simple snotty remark that had popped into her head, and she had blurted out in anger at him…Now, it was the only thing that could easily explain why he willfully risked their lives in coming to Cobra Island…
Wildman noticed that look, and himself came to a conclusion of his own. "I guess I'm going to have to show you." He quietly said, reaching for his watch.
Cobra Commander never considered himself to be a 'Peeping Tom', he was simply careful. Of course, he was clearly irritated by the Techno-Vipers inability to properly set up Wildman's apartment with the needed surveillance devices in time. He would need to rely upon the hallway security cameras, and what there was operating outside, to tell if they tried leaving—and nothing else. But the folder compiled by his Intelligence Staff was clearly a positive he could work with.
Angelica "Angel' Drummond, 2nd Lieutenant, Royal Air Force—currently on assignment with MI6 in New Orleans to retrieve Kimball Clarke Wildman. It didn't take too much imagination on the Commander's part to put things together, but what was surprising was the daughter of an English nobleman, with deep ties with Britain's formidable Intelligence Service, being used in such a dangerous fashion. He considered the possible uses for her, just as he did for General Colton, but broke that chain of thought off to return to Wildman.
The great scientist came off as being a little too desperate, yet for the past twenty-two years foiled every attempt by the best intelligence agencies to eve n find him—a feat that not even the most wanted war criminals could never achieve, even with advanced planning. Cobra Commander deliberately stalled Wildman for a whole week just to see how truthful it all was; even sacrificing a mid-level courier just to see what would occur…
And that car of his was simply too conveniently placed, he reflected. But why would he even return, and now of all times? That pestered him to no end.
But the more he worked with it, the more he started figuring that the timing of the Meteor and Wildman's return was simply too close to be accidental.
13