Fort Wadsworth

Duke could feel the sweat running down his neck, his head was pounding, and his pulse was racing.

But he couldn't stop. All that mattered to him at this point was the goal. A soft breeze came off the water and brushed against his face, but it offered very little comfort in the heat of the midday sun.

He picked up his pace and pressed onward through the obstacle course. The rope net had been the biggest annoyance until he got to the low crawl. He had been on this Fort Wadsworth course countless times, but there was a heaviness about it now. Ever since the G.I. Joe team had stopped Cobra's attack on the Statue of Liberty, the higher ups felt a public presence was needed to remind everyone that there was a band of elite soldiers ready to hold the line at a moment's notice. Duke wasn't sure if being stationed just miles away from that battle site was a reward or a punishment, but that wasn't his call to make. His only focus at this time was getting himself back into fighting shape.

Doubt constantly crept into his mind, whispering that he would never again live up to his former glory. The only cure for that part of his illness, as far as he was concerned, was to prove that voice wrong. He had resolved to do just that, for the tenth time today, and something finally clicked into place. Duke felt a swell of energy deep within. Diving to the ground, he began crawling under final set of netting even though his lungs were threatening to give out from exertion.

Finally reaching the end of the low-strung webbing, he pushed himself to his feet, his eyes firmly locked on the wooden walls that were his last barriers. After taking two long strides, though, he felt his legs grow immensely weak. Duke collapsed faster than he had anticipated and was met by the unforgiving ground, his breath being forcefully expelled as he hit chest first.

A shadow loomed over him, blocking out the heat of the sun partially.

"You ok down there, old man?"

Duke instantly recognized the voice as Flint. "Yeah. Whatever you do, just don't move." The downed man rolled over and looked up. "I've had enough sun for now and you make a great shade tree for the time being," he joked between gasps of air.

Flint shook his head but kept a smirk on his face. "You do realize that if you keep this up, even the newest and freshest recruits aren't gonna be able to keep up with you?"

As he rose to a knee slowly, Duke only responded with a laugh. He lowered himself into a sitting position and looked up at his friend. "That's the idea. If no one can keep up with me, I know I can do my job as good as I need to. You know, get back into that whole 'Man of Action' shape."

"If anyone can do it, there's no doubt that you can." He paused for a moment to offer a hand to help Duke to his feet. "Just don't push yourself too hard or you know they'll stick you behind a desk without a second thought - for good this time."

Duke coughed slightly and nodded. "I know, I know." He brushed the front of his tan shirt off, for what little good it did. "For now, can you just point me in the direction of the nearest canteen? I'd better get hydrated - Doc will have my skin if I show up for my afternoon appointment with heat stroke."

Hawk entered the room and Breaker gave him a quick thumbs-up. Looking at the computer screen, he saw the majority of the auxiliary squad gathered in a makeshift war room. The general took a mental note of everyone present: Stalker, Roadblock, Alpine, Bazooka, Cover Girl, Lowlight, Mainframe, Cross Country, and Dial-Tone.

Stalker spoke up. "We're only missing a few, sir. I told them you would understand the importance of guard duty."

Hawk nodded. "Definitely understandable, we're not quite at full strength here, either." Looking around his own war room, he saw many familiar faces: Falcon, Doc, Jinx, Beach Head, Wet-Suit, Tunnel Rat, Flint, Lady Jaye, Torpedo, Clutch, Scarlett, and Duke. Many of the Joes on the active roster not present were either enjoying some well-deserved leave, stationed on-base in essential roles, or on missions that held an extremely high security clearance.

"At ease soldiers," Hawk called to the room to start his meeting. "As you all know, it's been quiet on the Cobra front for quite some time. Sadly, it looks like all that is about to change. According to our latest intelligence reports, it appears Cobras has officially split off into two distinct factions."

The troops who sat around the table began talking amongst themselves. There was a mix of shock, surprise, and even some minor celebration.

Falcon broke the chatter. "Yeah, maybe they'll do a real number on each other and save us some ammo."

Hawk got a somber look on his face, "I'm afraid the news is not as wonderful as it seems. Mainframe, can you pull up what you sent my way?"

"Right away, sir." The computer expert rolled out of frame on the large screen, tapped a few keys, and now a large map of the United States appeared on the screen. "We now have the same visual you guys have. You are good to go, sir."

"Thank you, Mainframe. Joes, I will be blunt with you. This could be a blessing in disguise, but if it is, it's a damn good costume. As you can see, both Cobra organizations, for a better lack or wording, are amassing in different locations. There are rumblings of internal conflicts, but we don't yet have confirmation of either faction's full agenda. We don't even know where or when they plan to strike."

Beach Head spoke up in his usual gruff manner, his voice muffled by his dark green balaclava. "That's just fine, sir, but exactly what are we going to do about this? Some of our forces are already in the field and what's left of us to fight isn't even in one spot."

"I'm well aware of that, Beach Head. Since Cobra appears to be concerned with each other at the moment, we'll be doing a little 'intelligence gathering' first." Hawk waited for the room to quiet again and continued. "We will be using two teams. Falcon will head up one team from this outpost. Roadblock, since you spent some quality time with Cobra Commander, you'll be heading up the second group. I still don't believe it can actually be him with what all we saw and heard happen to him, but the chatter seems to say otherwise."

Roadblock's voice came clearly through the speakers. "After what I went through out there, I find it hard to believe it's the same old Chrome Face, but we'll get to the bottom of it."

General Hawk nodded. "That's why I chose you. As for those of you not selected by team leads, we never know what to expect from those snakes, so stay on your toes. There are some new recruits, so get them up to speed so they can be assets, not liabilities in the upcoming days. Now, any questions?"

Duke and Flint walked to the front of the room at either side of the general, but Lowlight's voice boomed through the speakers before either man could speak. "Do we actually get to do any snake hunting?"

"At this stage, intelligence is our main concern. Eventually there will be a ground attack, but we need to know where our forces should be concentrated first."

A sour look crossed Lowlight's face as he took his seat again.

Hawk's eyes drifted along the room. "Any other questions?"

Falcon spoke next. "Exactly how big are our teams going to be?"

"For now, I only want six soldiers in each snake pit. You should need no more than that for a recon mission. That will leave us with enough for ample reinforcements if things don't go exactly as planned." Hawk looked around the room one last time. "No more questions? Dismissed!"