Eleven.
Donnie Ayers stood waiting on the rear-landing platform with his leather jacket zipped up and slouch hat pulled low over his face. His 1928 Thompson sub-machine gun slung low across his back, easily gotten to if matters demanded it.
He'd been there since TOM took the Osprey to rescue the Joes from certain death, wondering what to do or even say to the one time battle-armored suit that he with his father's help transformed into a self-conscience A.I.
That was the problem with A.I.'s; Ayers reflected as he stood there, they were like children for most of their formable growing years. You raised them to think, and act, in a responsible manner before letting them go into the World. But there were always the unavoidable outside influences that always threatened to undo all of the work and hope put into them in the effort to give them a proper character.
The Great Delima; what they did depended upon what they learned from experience—and that was never easy to control.
What to say…Oh what to say?
You did your best, hoping they'd come out right. Hoping you didn't make massive mistakes with them.
But…
What TOM did, no matter how correct it was to rescue the stranded Joes from certain death, may have condemned them to a future that they hoped to avoid.
But it was done…
There was no point in continuing to hide. Yukinama, reluctantly was now freeing the Joes from their Persuader induced 'altered reality', while his wife was making a direct call to Glacier Valley with the 'bad news'.
How they'd handle it was sheer speculation. Though Ayers knew, odds on, they'd blame him as TOM's initial master—and from that point on anything was fair game. S-9's stumble paled compared to this. The only saving grace would be in how the damage was managed.
But then, Ayers figured, with the Joes and Hydra being in play that may as well be a foregone conclusion.
So, standing out on the rear-landing pad, he did his best to think of something to say that would make them understand. But simply, he couldn't.
The engine whine had been steadily dragging on his thoughts until he raised his head to see the Osprey on landing approach. Just seconds more till touchdown, and he still didn't know what to say.
Or, he considered, don't bother with the speech.
The Joes will want to know everything.
Unless TOM already told them…
In fact, the Osprey hadn't fully settled when the side door popped open, and out they came in following TOM while a medical team made their way to the Osprey.
TOM had mentioned injured…
Ayers tipped his hat back, and started forward…
Here we go…
Tom reached him first.
"Master, I." it began, but Ayers waved his creation aside.
"Go to staging and rearm." He told Tom while walking past.
TOM was hesitant at first, watching his creator calmly walk to the confrontation with the Joes. His words were simple, holding a slight, but understandable, irritation.
There was work to be done, and he had to be ready.
So he lumbered away.
Cobra Commander just couldn't shut up about aliens.
Colton had just about enough of it. Beating him into silence was a excellent thought, but soon the elevator came to a halt and he had to resume the Viper's identity.
Maybe stuffing the Commander into one of those cells would work, Colton wondered, at least I wouldn't be hearing any more about aliens.
The doors opened as two, weaponry laced Crimson Guardsmen rushed up to meet it. Colton stayed close behind Cobra Commander, because he knew what Cobra Commander was capable of.
And he wasn't disappointed.
"There's a Joe in this Elevator!!" he yelled to the advancing Guardsmen.
And instantly, one revealed himself to be Kimball Wildman. Colton blinked; it wasn't like holographic projection being shut off. One moment there was a Guardsman, and then it was Wildman touching the facial frame of his watch. Even Cobra Commander was amazed to silence.
"I take it that's General Colton behind you?" Wildman directly asked.
Cobra Commander didn't answer. Colton didn't give him the chance too. For he quickly revealed himself by tearing off his Viper's helmet.
"I'd love a explanation about now!" he shouted back.
Wildman approached, intent on Cobra Commander, while twisting the face dial of his watch.
"Don't worry, you'll get one soon, General" Wildman evenly replied. "Very soon. But I need to speak with Cobra Commander first."
Something was wrong, Colton realized it. But the realization came just occurred before Wildman aimed his watch at Cobra Commander's faceplate. And after that he felt like was floating…
Then voices.
"The survivors, where are they?" Wildman's voice demanded.
"There…were…none…" Cobra Commander's voice came out slowly, passively.
There was a pause before Wildman exclaimed in astonishment, "None!"
"None…" The Commander went on. "All…dead…when we arrived at…the crash site."
Now there was a long silence, then a gentle murmuring of a female voice that was too far away to hear clearly that Colton didn't recognize.
Then Wildman again. "Where are the bodies? Everything?"
"Research…Factuality…abandoned on south…side of …island. Location…Zero-Fifteen."
And Colton was back in reality.
Wildman looked like he'd been hit with impossibly bad news, and in spite being brave about it appeared only moments away from either unleashing his anger or crying bitterly over it.
"I can show you where the factuality is." Cobra Commander began. "But for—"
Wildman hit the Commander squarely in the stomach, his face a contorted mask of vicious anger. Even with the man in front of him, Colton was slammed viciously back against the elevator's wall causing him to release Cobra Commander, who crumpled to the floor in a painful heap.
"Do not think that you can buy favor with me!" Wildman growled gazing down and the struggling Commander with the most murderous intent ever seen. "Or make me sell to the likes of you!"
When Colton's head finally cleared, he saw Wildman as he truly was. Not much change occurred in his scared appearance, but his ears. They were large, Elvin-like that jutted out from the sides of his head like a very small set of wings fixed to his head. The left one though was missing a portion of its tip.
Colton just stared.
Cobra Commander had been the truth.
"My-" Colton began.
Wildman shot him a sharp glare.
"Were you expecting a little green guy who wants to 'phone home'?" Wildman directed at him. "I'm so sorry to disappoint you in that regard."
Angel removed her guardsman helmet, standing uneasily as Wildman gazed down upon Cobra Commander's body with a heavy frown. "I did not plan for any of you being drawn into this affair." He began quietly, "But I will do everything to get you out of here safely. It's my responsibility."
TOM had told them everything on the flight back. It was very short, and very much to the point. But Duke had to ask because some things were bothering him because they didn't really make sense.
So he was asking Ayers, just to clarify a few points.
"If you cannot get the shuttle survivors out of Cobra's hand's, then this De-ron—" "Devronique." Ayers corrected.
They called themselves Edrailians, more specifically Mixes due to the fact that for the past thousand years or so that they've been on Earth there had been breeding between the human population and the elfish aliens, producing a more hardier race than the two that could quite easily pass for human if it weren't for their ears (which besides being pointed affairs also came in a variety of shapes and sizes) and in some cases their eyes.
Everyone on board the Dom Delilegos, except the Joes, surviving members of Cobra, and the UN people still in submission, was a 'Mix'.
Ayers was one, though his body was nearly cybernetic and he maintained a human appearance due to pseudo-skin. But effectively demonstrated his cybernetic ability by taking away Roadblock's 50. Caliber Browning with shocking ease, then flipping the heavy weapon repeatedly in his hands like it was a loaf of bread before tossing it back to its owner.
Lisa Hawkern was another, and Ayers' wife—which proved surprising. And Wildman, now on Cobra Island, searching for the survivors of an Edrailian shuttle that started the whole affair by crashing not more than two miles from the Island in the Gulf--and had until dawn to find them.
And apparently so was Hydra, who managed to fool everyone.
But if they failed, what would be happening afterward was what Ayers was trying to explain to the Joes who were gathered around him in the repair area just off from the landing pad. Some listened with looks of awe, if not mild shock. But some of those who'd been sent to the Delilegos by the U.N. had their own special look, anger. Because they didn't take too kindly to what had occurred to them on the ship.
Duke just nodded and continued, "Will come down at dawn and flatten Cobra while rescuing them. I don't see anything wrong about that at all."
Apparently TOM didn't explain everything to them on the way back, Ayers realized. Speeches weren't his strong point. But with everything gone to hell, he quickly got to the point.
"This is a Political situation." He began, "For centuries, House Devronique has been desiring to form a interstellar empire so to rule in their own twisted way. Two hundred years ago, this dream was stopped dead when agents of House Hawkern exposed those very plans to the then ruling House Council. As a result, Devronique lost numerous mineral-rich territories that were vital to their plans. But, a disastrous interstellar war, which would have occurred if those plans were not exposed, a war that would have definitely come to Earth due to House Hawkern's presence here, was adverted.
"Right now, the only thing that's holding House Devronique and their cronies in check is Hawkern's dominative presence amongst the current members of the ruling House Council. But, if that were to be marred in any significant way, the power will shift—"
"But what does that haft to do about…"Lift-Ticket interrupted, but since he couldn't properly pronounce the name 'Devronique', he just gestured frustrated instead before continuing, "his stomping Cobra into the ground?"
Ayers gritted his teeth and turned to answer the pilot with self-control slipping, "They'd stomp us afterward…and then exert control over your world as well."
The words stunned them, and Ayers quickly regained some of his composure, "Can you imagine what governments would do if extraterrestrials suddenly appeared, friendly, helpful, considerate? Especially if they just so happened to exposed another group of aliens on this planet as 'enemies' of humanity, twisting and spinning lies every which way—"
"They'd give him his way." Duke concluded.
It was easy enough to see. As politicians stumbled over themselves to please Devronique, he would be quietly undermining them with his helpful manner—most probably in the form of 'extraterrestrial aid' to solve their problems. No need for swarms of spaceships attaching the Earth, because Devronique would be enslaving the people through their desires for making the World a better place-- until it was too late to do anything.
If they ever realized what was going on at all…
"They'll make him Emperor, which is what his family tried doing two hundred years ago." Ayers flatly said, "And with Hawkern's power broken, there's be no stopping him."
Then a shout came over the Intercom "DONNIE!! KIM"S CALLING!!"
"To the forces of Lord Devronique, this is Serpentor, Emperor of Cobra—"
"Turn it off." Devronique bitterly ordered, and the accompanying Lord Admiral, who brought it to his attention, so did.
"It appears, My Lord, Merrimeck failed." The Lord Admiral simply stated.
Devronique just angrily snorted while walking to the observation deck.
Below him there was the nerve center for his personal fleet, a gigantic room where information of all sort was properly processed before going onto where it would do the most good. Serpentor's message had been treated this way before being sent directly to Devronique as he was being dressed in a special battle dress made especially for the occasion, delivered by the Lord Admiral of the Fleet himself.
He could use the broadcast to push the Council into allowing him to act swifter, forgoing the dawn arrival. But, he realized the Council would want a detailed explanation as to how Serpentor knew about him in the first place, as well as broadcasting to him on his secured frequency no less. Worse, if any Monitors from the Council herd the broadcast, there would be plenty of devastating questions administered under the presence of a Persuader, ripping the truth out of him.
The Council, idiots that they were, weren't fools taken in easily.
He'd haft to wait till the clock ran down.
But Merrimeck failed. Devronique gripped the railing, desiring to scream out in rage with all his might. His best assassin failed him inexcusably.
Now all Devronique could do was hope that Serpentor created enough of an interference to thwart Hawkern, thus burying the assassin's gaff.
"Begin initial fleet preparedness." Devronique ordered without turning around.
Serpentor stopped speaking into the microphone, because even he knew there were limits to how long one could stay doing remedial things.
And if Devronique wasn't going to answer him, then just let him try coming down for the hostages. He'd personally teach the insolent 'Lord' some long remembered lessons in manners.
"My Emperor!" a communications operator swiveled in her seat to him. "A call from the Night Creeper's has come in for you."
"Display on main monitor!!" Serpentor ordered, and with a few stroked buttons the Emperor was face to face with a red masked ninja.
"Area is secure. Minor losses taken by us. All of the defenders have been eliminated, and the B.A.T.'s are being reprogrammed and redeployed." The Night Creeper reported. "We'll be entering the main holding area soon."
"Be sure not to harm the treasure with in that structure." Serpentor nodded, and added with a very definite tone. "Or you will pay."
"It shall be guarded with my very life, Emperor!" the Night Creeper bowed obediently.
Serpentor smiled at that, such loyalty was most deserving.
"I shall be arriving there in thirty minutes." He stated, and shut off the line before the ninja could reply then turned to a near-by Crimson Guardsmen with gold braids on this shoulder.
"Have my Air Chariot prepared—in twenty minutes time!" he ordered.
Things were moving at incredible speed onboard the Dom Delilegos.
With a good portion of the Edrailian raiding force incapacitated by Hydra's sabotage, the Joes stepped into help out and quickly filled in any intelligence gaps the rescuers had on Cobra, some of which were quite glaring. Scarlett took a great deal of pleasure in making those facts clear to Yukinama and Ms. Candy, who stood there fuming over it. And once those matters were set and straight, a small advanced team was assembled, briefed, and dispatched to the best spot for a surprise landing.
Of the eight bird-like 'Jumpers', as they called their Assault/Support aircraft, they had brought along, only four were usable right away. A fifth could fly, but only with significant repairs, which Ayers and what remained of the ship's technical group along with his own people worked on when they arrived, hurriedly worked on with what usable parts could be scavenged from the ruined Jumpers.
Given the bad news concerning the crash survivors, five was all they'd need.
With most of their munitions depleted, the Joes had to avail themselves to what the Edrailians had—which were surprisingly similar in the fact that they were firearms, but using caseless ammunition instead.
Compact sub-machine guns using hi-capacity helical magazines mounted to their tops, and robust dual-triggered assault rifles, which used the compact Bull-pup design with the grenade launcher portion mounted across the top of the rifle and magazine fed as well—but behind the rifles' magazine. Hawkern took to demonstrating them with theatrical style on the landing pad near the Ospery-Jet. After devastating an empty supply crate for them, she let the Joes have their shot at the rest.
But the Portable Armored Suits—PAS, or 'Pass', as they described them, gained the biggest amount of interest.
S-9's versions were virtual knights in cybernetic armor, far leaner and graceful than TOM in appearance and capable of carrying an equal amount of firepower as a tank squadron and move twice as fast. Comparisons became inevitable when the Angelstar, a long narrow craft with stubby fins at its rear and a flat slab running down most of it's back, which TOM explained was his master's personal ship, arrived with more bulkier PAS's, technicians and assorted other things. It didn't look like what they'd expect a 'alien spaceship' to appear as, especially as it's front opened up like a Galaxy transport they were very much used to, delivering twenty more PAS's down it's front ramp that by comparison were much more bulkier that the Special Forces versions the Joe's marveled over.
"Those are standard infantry PAS." He explained, while pointing at the arrivals. "They're meant to go into the middle of battles like all good soldiers. And to insure that they come back, they've got more armoring and fewer pod attachments beyond additional munitions storage."
"They kinda look like you." Dial Tone pointed out.
"I'm a older model." TOM told him, tapping the side of his head. "But with a advanced brain."
The 'Staffers' were another interesting item. They started out looking like giant rectangular slabs of concrete, about the size of common sedan; before Ayers' people began adding it's wings, engines and various weaponry mounts. Taking only twenty minutes, each became a flying weapons platform with swivel-mounted auto-cannons at either end of its body and wingtips, swivel mounted grenade launchers in either side of it's flat body, and missiles fireable from drop down launchers extended from its underside.
The Joes watched, sizing the vehicle up for its effectiveness as TOM explained to them what its usage was.
"They're drones, slightly out of date with their more modern counterparts," Tom explained, "but still effective in the matter of suppressing any ground bases force or installation."
"Or, provide coverage to any assaulting force." Beachhead added.
"That too." TOM nodded.
As usual, the Harbor Master slept on duty.
He had an underling, a not so very bright kid who managed to survive Cobra Basic, watch the board and do the harbor tour with the more seasoned Vipers who didn't really do their job with any real seriousness, since the duty itself was so easy and the pay right.
Besides, nobody had the nerve to try anything against them, not even a foreign country, unless they wanted trouble.
So they were lax, painfully lax.
Which is what the Joe/Edrailian team was hoping for.
Four members of the hybrid team moved swiftly through the jungle growth that bordered most of the harbor's outward edge, taking positions that gave them excellent advantage with their silenced high-powered rifles. The remaining six were in the harbor, near the surface, with Wet-Suit, Torpedo, and Deep-Six in borrowed tight-fitting one-piece swimsuits with full facial masks and rebreathing systems. They could stay down for days before needing to surface, but were waiting for word from their team members' topside.
After several minutes, it came over the COM. "One, six targets on dock preoccupied at center."
"Two, same as one. No other activity."
"Three, Barracks full of sleepers. Two buildings, one with ten—other empty."
"Four, None in Motor Pool, or Mess. One asleep in main building."
The squad leader was a lean faced woman with a very cold way of speaking. "In thirty, we move from edges inward."
She quickly split the group in half, Wet-Suit moving with her and two others to the left side while Torpedo and Deep-six went right with the last two.
"Stay with your buddy." She told them as they parted.
Old School, Torpedo though, but it wasn't his place to argue.
In seconds, the first member was in place on the shore, covering for the others with his silenced sub-machine gun as they broke surface with well-trained silence while drawing their silenced-weapons from waterproofed holsters and carry bags. Docked patrol boats and occasional crate along the harbor dock gave them cover until they reached the spot where the Vipers were playing cards.
"Three Barracks cleared. Joining Four." There would be no additional Vipers to worry about.
"Four, Sleeper is now permanent. Waiting for Three."
The rebreathers gave their users no trouble when they aimed their weapons at the unsuspecting Vipers, everything fitted together perfectly and the Hilo-sight gave them all excellent range.
"Three, Four together."
The two could be seen aiming their weapons on the Vipers from the main building.
"Fire!"
The Vipers on the Dock were caught in five different directions by silenced weapons fire. Money, cards, and bodies went everywhere lurching and toppling over themselves and the crate that was their playing table. After a few more bursts into the bodies, for assurance, the Commander gave the clear signal.
"Alright! We got word!" the tech said.
Duke didn't say anything, the nod he gave was sufficient. After an hour's wait, they were ready to go. And soon he and all who could ran for the available aircraft. The Special Forces personal launched themselves into the air in the PAS, resembling angels taking flight, while the Jumpers, the Osprey-Jet, and even the Cobra Assault Carrier were warming up.
To this, Duke ran to. Of course, there would be questions about its use, there always were. But in this case, he wasn't worried about having to answer them. That was someone else's problem.
Once in, Duke closed the doors and heaved himself into the co-pilots seat next to Lift-Ticket.
"Think you can fly this thing?" he joked.
Lift-Ticket didn't say anything at first. Then as Duke wondered if the pilot had lost his sense of humor, Lift-Ticket turned to him as said, "Do you think all of this is just a dream, Duke?"
And really, Duke couldn't answer. Science Fiction never really grabbed him as a child, and he preferred to think of himself as being 'practical minded'—it helped to keep his feet on the ground. Now, getting knocked off his feet and having his world turned upside-down, Duke did the only thing that came to mind that could help him to answer. He glanced back into the Carrier's bay, seeing Hawkern sitting next to Ayers in a meditative pose while her husband quietly examined his antique Thompson—when not casting a warning glance at any Joe who's gaze lingered too long on his wife.
And he turned back to Lift-Ticket to answer, "Why don't you ask me after I wake up?"
Wildman remained cool, even after stuffing the dead Guardsmen into one cell and Cobra Commander into another. The air of icy silence surrounded him such as he stood before the cell's door that not even Angel could get him to respond.
He acknowledged them only when he wanted to, Colton observed, figuring out why was very easy indeed.
"There's nothing more that you can do for them." He quietly said to him, "Lets get moving."
For moments, there was no change in his stance before the door. Then he started to turn towards Colton.
"Friends will recover the bodies and the flight recorder." Wildman told them in a definite but detached manner. "Plan was to effect Cobra's defenses with a looping virus so to let them in, and we'd join them out --."
Then he winced. "Damn! I hadn't set the Looper up yet!!"
"Ok," Colton nodded, glad that Wildman was coming back to reality, "what do we need?"
"Computer access to the main system." Wildman replied. "I have the code and the keys to do it."
"We dumped tear-gas in the Control Room for this area." Angel replied sickly.
Colton was about to ask if there any other such systems in the area when Wildman face suddenly lit up, "The Sentry Post. That'll work!"
Colton nodded and after getting Wildman to calm down enough to redisguise himself as a Guardsman, they made the trek back to the Post in an outright run in mere minutes. There, Wildman literally forced himself to be composed before sneaking up on the Guardsman to use the Watch on him. As Colton and Angel covered him, Wildman manipulated his watch while calmly directing the Guardsman through the necessary paces of installing the 'Looper'. When the key codes to set it in place for activation, it took three tries before the right key was found and Guardsman activated the system.
Then the Guardsman was commanded to let them leave the Dungeon Sector, and soon the three were heading up the stairs with Colton taking the front with Angel and Wildman following behind.
"Wonder how long it'll be before he realizes something's occurred?" Angel supposed.
"He shouldn't come around to the fact too quickly." Wildman answered. "I just hope they don't do a service-log download for a few hours."
"Concentrate on the present, Doctor." Colton remarked over his shoulder, "Spend less time worrying."
After a few flights of stairs, Colton paused at an access door that he opened just enough to look on the other side puzzling those behind them.
"What is it?" Angel hoarsely gasped between breaths.
"Figuring we could meet Wildman's friends much faster by elevator than by the stairs." he quietly replied, still looking.
"Figure the stairs may have gotten to you." Angel candidly remarked, which earned her a frown from Colton.
After a minute, he motioned to them to follow him through the door.
It was a corridor level no different from the other such ordinary security levels, gray in color with doors that were numbered with some telling what they were and very few soldiers present.
Fourth floor, Colton glanced, figuring by those numbers. Soon, the floor guide they stopped at proved that, along with showing where they were and which elevators lead to which rooftop helipads.
"Any preferences?" Colton asked Wildman.
"Quick and easy. Preferably on the north side on the building."
Colton traced his finger along that portion of the map from the indicator of where they were in relation to everything, and then back.
"Follow me."
They followed Colton while carefully keeping a lookout for any Cobra personal who could give them any level of trouble that Wildman's Watch couldn't be readied to get them out of. A right turn lead them down one last corridor to where the elevator was, with no persons or obstructions to stop them.
"Here we go." Colton announced
He hit the call button, and instantly the doors of an elevator on the wall left of them opened to thee people each dressed like a Guardsmen, but theirs were trimmed in Gold and Green with identical helmets that didn't hide their harsh gazes.
"Ha! Volunteers!" Exclaimed the middle one in a voice both Wildman and Angel instantly recognized, as he quickly seized both Wildman and Angel at gunpoint while his companions trained their weapons on Colton, warning them to stay back.
"You have now volunteered for duty to guard his Royal Emperor, Serpentor!" the middle one continued. "Revel in the glory of serving in his presence!"
And the doors closed, leaving Colton alone.
The operators dutifully performed their tasks of keeping the Island safe. Rarely would they even look away from the numerous monitor screens and radar scopes that helped them in their perpetual vigil. Every vehicle movement was recorded and monitored, and all stations throughout the Island dutifully reported in with their specific code indicating that all was well.
Of course, it was anything but.
Slowly, the Island's integrity was being probed and compromised with swift efficiency from outside—and from within.
The "Looper" within their systems constantly blocked any alarms from occurring by simply blanking out any incoming intrusions from the systems, so no alarms of any kind were raised from radar or video surveillance. Security codes were copied and passed along to the assaulting group already on the Island, as were the codes for the areas not subject to immediate assault were set up to register with the main controllers as being "ok"—and would be even while being attacked.
The advanced forces set themselves up at the small harbor, readying acquired vehicles and various Cobra equipment for their use. The group was fully mixed at this point, though there was some uneasiness among the Edrailians concerning the Joes not knowing how 'they' did things some quick fast-talking was used to smooth out any difficulties in communications so the operation could proceed as planned.
In that aspect, the Joes were glad to help out. Especially Mercer, who knew what to expect.
"Cobra Commander is absolutely paranoid about security." He quickly explained to them before they set out in their small convoy. "There are several check-points on every road, each with a small garrison of soldiers ready for rapid deployment at the first sign of trouble.
"And each of these garrisons controls various stretches of mined roads, the Garrison's Commander has the keys for that."
That at least prepared them.
Mercer's Convoy started along the first road eastward while Wet-Suit's went westward on the same road. Using the barrowed equipment and vehicles, they began quietly eliminating the small security garrisons in the northern area in the time that they had. For if things went badly for the main group, they would start a secondary attack upon Cobra in earnest to draw away any forces attacking the main group.
For as long as it was needed…
There were other things as well occurring.
Cobra Commander regained enough of his strength after lying on the floor for several minutes to at least try standing, which hurt terribly where Wildman had hit him—but only made him want to get moving all that much faster.
The cell he was in was standard, metal walls with a small metal toilet was all it had, comforts weren't really built in since punishment in Cobra was quite extreme in all cases and escape impossible…
Unless, like the Commander, he had planned on being stuck down here at some point--and set about ways of making an escape.
A wall panel next to the door, slightly higher than where one would expect a touch pad to be, keyed only to his hand print caused the toilet to rise off the floor revealing a shaft that offered a short drop to a service duct that ran beneath the Dungeon level. Once there, he touched another pad that lowered the toilet back to its proper place.
Then he pulled himself along the duct to a specific intersection, where another key panel in the ducts ceiling revealed access to a ladder that he used to reach a small cubbyhole room not readily located on any 'current' plans or maps of the Control Complex. Another bit of planning for the worst on the Commander's part, the room he was now in had a computer terminal with direct access to the central mainframe.
'Lets see how the mighty Serpentor deals with this!' Cobra Commander mentally laughed to himself as he keyed in.
The computer was balky, ignoring his commands or simply redirecting them to nodes far from the ones he needed to access in-system. Three tries later he started in on the master codes themselves, could it be that they had anticipated such a move, he wondered…
No, they were all fine. Everything was where it was suppose to be, nothing erased nothing altered.
It was just that the Central Computer was under the control of something else that altered all incoming data so it gave false reports to the operators, and diverted any inquiries to other areas…
Cobra Commander stared at the computer's screen thinking of what to do next.
Mindbender was thinking on how the pen worked.
On an examination table, beneath a lit magnifying lens the internal components of Hydra's Persuader Pen were tactfully displayed in an order of their removal from the pen casing and separation from each other, as its owner sat slumped over and secured to the metal chair. Mindbender didn't give the assassin much thought; the Edrailian was more pathetic than threatening.
But the Pen was marvelous. The degree of compactability of the components was just beyond the power of the lens he was using. To study it further, Mindbender needed the Electron Microscopes in the Science Section. They should be able to give a much better view of the micro components and circuitry he so gently moved under the lens with gloved hands.
Oh yes, he could solve it. It'll take time, but it was possible.
Building it was the same way. He already figured that most of the components were at the microscopic level in size, if not molecular in configuration, far more advanced than his Brainwave Scrambler, lying off to the side on some control panel. The advantage it could give Cobra to have something that small which could affect the minds of many, and not be so oblivious.
And while he was considering the possibilities, he also reflected on the fact that leaving his Brainwave Scrambler just lying about was utterly careless of him. Until Cobra Commander was 'properly disposed of', he chastened himself for not having it with him always.
Anyhow, he needed to get up for a few minutes. His body was cramped from sitting so long in a hunched over position while studying the Pen, a little movement and a break from the examination would do him good. And Hydra was still slumped over in the chair, so no worry…
But just as Mindbender picked up the Scrambler from the board, Hydra swiftly, silently, freed himself from the chair. Then with a single leap, Hydra smashed Mindbender's skull with the metal chair, and kept bashing away until it was certain that the Cobra Scientist would never be getting up again.
Then Hydra dropped the chair and turned to his beloved ballpoint pen.
The fool wrecked it. Hydra could tell by just looking at how the components were all separated out. Several of the minute connections were torn from their placements, and he had no means of repairing the mess with him.
Looking back at Mindbender, enraged enough to do more to the body, was then Hydra spotted the Brainwave Scrambler, lying by Mindbender's feet. It was crude in comparison to his pen and not at all easy to conceal, but it could perform the job.
Lift-Ticket settled the Assault Carrier down at a small landing field that had fallen into disuse, but far enough away from the deserted factuality to avoid suspicion, or so they hoped.
"Certain the Section-9 people did their job?" Duke tentatively asked Ayers.
"If they didn't," Ayers replied, "They can forget about ever going home."
"Oh we did our job, Professor." Miss Candy's voice was quite sharp and ever cold coming over the com-net. "But we're wondering if His Highness got the right directions…"
"There's doubt?" Duke quickly radioed back.
"No. It's just that the place looks like it was used for target practice." Miss Candy replied. "The only thing the place is good for is growth support for the surrounding jungle."
Well, the Island did take a low-level nuke, Duke thought
"Ever hear of camouflage?" Beachhead annoyed spoke up.
"There's a whole list of things S9 hasn't herd of." Hawkern put in.
"People please!" Duke snapped back at the group, then said to Miss Candy, "Root through the place, get out of your suits if you haft to. But it's a certain bet that place is it."
"How certain?"
This was unbelievable. Even with the damage done to them and their faulty intelligence concerning Cobra, Section-Nine still wanted to be in complete charge of this show. Having to share really put them out, and Duke was ready to give them a grand old-fashioned chewing-out over their attitude when his own self-control kicked in.
"Cobra Commander's a fox, a very sly and cunning fox. He could have easily had the remains hidden away in his main command center, but then anyone would have gotten to them. He wants them where only he'll know where they are. And the safest place for that is where people least expect…now start looking!!"
"That'll get em' moving." Hawkern smiled.
"Duke's gotta' way with people." Roadblock added.
"Yea," Duke replied. " If they if they don't do things the right way, I stay on them until they do…Now lets move!"
