Chapter Two
Wild Resorts
Scarlett and Snake Eyes stepped onto the sidewalk outside of Davao International Airport. It was the most technologically advanced airport in the Philippines, and much more luxurious than the Edinburgh International airport. Over two million people a year poured through its gates; Davao City was a popular tourist trap, and the country's government was making sure that the city resting on the shoreline of Davao Gulf stayed up-to-date.
Although Scarlett slid on a set of sunglasses, she no longer wore her gothic long-black disguise any longer. Wearing the cliché appearance of American tourists, she and Snake Eyes wore light, bright clothes and shorts—just the sort of look her lover despised.
Still, he was impressed with the newest rubber mask disguise that Lady Jaye had made up for him. Although it won no awards for comfort, it looked amazingly realistic, even when he was just wearing a t-shirt. After the long 747-flight from Honolulu though, the Joe commando needed to get it off—it was getting pretty itchy.
Chuckles walked up behind his fellow Joes while stuffing a passport into his pocket and pushing on a pair of thousand-dollar sunglasses. "Gorgeous day, eh, guys?"
Scarlett looked at Snake Eyes. The lack of perspiration on his face made her wince with uneasiness. "I'll start enjoying it once we get Snake Eyes somewhere where he can take his mask off."
Nodding his agreement, Chuckles pointed to a long black car parked down the street. "That's our ride. We can be at the resort in fifteen minutes."
When the trio of Joes reached the Cadillac, the Philippine Army private standing guard next to it saluted them. The Joes returned the salute, and Chuckles reached his hand out for a handshake. "Nice to meet you, private. We're members of the G.I. Joe team. My name is Chuckles. This here is Scarlett and Snake Eyes."
Nervously shaking the perky Joe's hand, the private refused to smile. "Yes, sir. I am here to take you to Waterfront Insular Hotel." Pulling his hand back, he opened the Caddy's door and pointed in. "If you would like to get in, please."
Chuckles winked. "That would be just great."
Minutes later, the three Joes were riding south towards downtown Davao, heading for the four-star resort on the northeastern shore.
"You've gone a bit overboard on this mission, Chuckles." Commented Scarlett.
"Hey, it wasn't just me. The Philippine government was excited to work with us, so they threw a few bucks into the deal."
"Which you used to 'upgrade' our accommodations?"
Smiling, Chuckles took a sip from a small bottle of wine provided in the Cadillac. "What can I say? I'm just used to beauty."
Scarlett noticed Snake Eyes intently watching the bicycle carts wobbling along the streets, toting their big blue umbrellas while their drivers peddled like crazy. Another fascination was how brightly painted and colorful the city's busses were. They were older vehicles, but more elaborately decorated than anything in New York. The streets were a tight fit, filled to the brim with people, markets, bicycle carts and slow moving traffic, but they had their own flow to them, their own beauty. It was a look so unlike Edinburgh; a beauty of a different kind.
After all the recent jet flights from Europe, the appearance of the luxurious Waterfront Insular Hotel was a welcome one. Chuckles thanked the Philippine private and the team grabbed their luggage. The Cadillac drove off and the three Joes stood in front of the entrance, somewhat confused about their next step of action.
"I thought we were supposed to meet a fellow Joe here, Chuckles." inquired Scarlett.
"Uh…yeah, me too. Maybe they're waiting for us inside?" Chuckles could only shrug his shoulders, pick up his bag and lead the way into the hotel.
After checking in, the group walked to the elevators. "Okay, everybody," said Scarlett, "According to the front desk, our teammate is in room 223."
"Right." said Chuckles. "I hope he's okay. It's not like a Joe to miss an appointment." The group began to get nervous as the elevator door opened and they stepped in.
Once they reached the second floor, Snake Eyes took point as the trio walked down to door 223. Chuckles gave a brisk knock, hoping to see the entrance swing open and a smiling face to greet them. Instead, he heard a response of "Wow! You're early. Come on in." reverberate through the door. Slowly opening it, the team saw a lavish hotel room, with large white furniture and an enormous window with its blinds shut. Off to the right side of the room, the Joes saw Mainframe sitting at a small desk, passionately typing on his massive laptop computer.
"Hey guys! Come on in!" As his fellow Joes walked in, he finally stopped and stood up. "Sorry I didn't meet you outside. I thought you were coming this afternoon. Good to see some familiar faces. I've working here in the Philippines for almost nine days, and I've almost been eaten alive by loneliness."
"Nice view." said Chuckles as he looked at the closed window blinds.
"Yeah, well…"
"Looks like you've been busy." commented Scarlett, referring to the piles of disks and papers spread across the floor.
"This chair has been glued to my butt ever since I got here." Stretching his back and yawning, Mainframe put his hand on his stomach. "I've got some brunch on the way up. Sorry it's so late. I kind of lost track of time."
"All that time in front of a clock and he can't tell what time it is." joked Chuckles.
"Zip it, Chuckles." snapped Scarlett. Snake Eyes walked over to the blinds and opened them. The sunlight seemed like a lost friend to this artificially-lit little room.
Scarlett pulled a file out from the bag she brought with her and handed it over to Mainframe. "I'm going to be brief. These are General Hawk's orders: we're to keep tight watch on a man staying at the Pearl Farm Beach Resort. If he makes a delivery, we're to intercept it and see what it is. If he turns out to be a Cobra Agent of any kind, naturally we apprehend him.
Mainframe nodded at his fatigued teammate and turned back to his laptop. A couple police photographs appeared on the screen. "Actually, I've already done a little research on this guy. I can't tell you his name, but I can tell you who delivered a package to him recently." Pointing to the Hispanic man on the left, Mainframe said, "This is Julio Reyes. He's a small-time crook from New Mexico that is wanted in Texas for smuggling goods from the U.S. into Mexico."
"He'd be an ideal person for Cobra to use in its underground shipping network." commented Chuckles.
"Yup. Now the Philippine government has spotted him around Davao City and are searching for him. I can't be certain that this is the guy who is working with the creep at the Pearl Resort, but I'd be willing to bet money on it."
"No bet." said Scarlett. "Great work, Mainframe.
At that moment, a knock made everyone jump. "Oh man, that must be my food." apologized Mainfraime as he stood up and walked to the door.
After the cart was wheeled in, the delivery boy was handed a tip and Mainframe started shoveling in his ham and cheese omelet. Scarlett started typing on the computer expert's massive 36-inch wide laptop computer.
"Check this out, guys." ushered the lady Joe. "Reyes was last arrested in Peru for drunk-driving."
"So why would that interest us?" asked Chuckles.
"The only personal belonging he registered at the police station was a thirty-eight centimeter long black box."
Mainframe started to choke on his omelet and took a swig of orange juice—fresh squeezed, of course—and looked closer to the screen. The other Joes joined him. "How did I miss that?"
"So how did he get out of jail?" asked Chuckles.
Pointing to a line of information, Scarlett replied, "He was bailed out by a businessman working for the Banco d'Amaru."
Chuckles stood up. "Banco d'Amaru? I've never heard of that. That last word isn't even Spanish. What the heck is an amaru?
With his mouth full of half-chewed egg, Mainframe budged his way up to the computer screen. "Let me see that." After a few moments of typing, a translating program popped up onto the screen. The Joe computer expert entered the word "amaru." In less than a second, its definition dropped the jaws of almost every Joe present.
"Wow." said Chuckles. "Amaru is the Incan word for snake."
"And to top it all off, the Banco d'Amaru is owned by Extensive Enterprises." pointed out Mainframe.
"I guess that proves it, guys." said Scarlett. "It's great that we've found another shipping point for Cobra's network, but before we head to Peru, there's still the task of finding the scum-ball that's shipping off goodies to Cobra from this city right here."
"Well, while our computer expert here finishes his first meal-of-the-day, I'll head down to the docks and see if I can find us a boat to ride to the resort." said Chuckles.
Mainframe gulped down the last of his orange juice and stood up. "I'm done, I'm done. Let's go!"
"Wait-a-minute, everyone." ordered Scarlett. "We're forgetting something: I'm exhausted, we're all exhausted. Mainframe, you work on getting everything together for us. As for the three of us, we need to go to our rooms and take some long power naps, have some good meals and get our strength back. Got it?" The other Joes reluctantly nodded.
As much as they wanted to get to work, even Snake Eyes couldn't deny the aching fatigue that gnawed at his body…and spirit.
1.
Three hours later, Scarlett knocked on the door to Snake Eyes' room. There was no answer. It made no sense. He would never miss the sound of a door knock, not even if he was asleep.
Sliding out a hair pin, she quickly picked the lock and entered the dark room. Everything seemed in order. The sheets were moderately shuffled, and all of Snake Eyes' gear was on the floor, so there couldn't have been a fight.
But the rear window's curtain was ruffled.
With urgent concern, Scarlett walked to the back of the room and parted the long silk cloths. They revealed a beautiful view of the beach. It was a bright, sunny day, but the sandy coast looked nearly empty. Some people were walking to the far right, and a man was playing with his dog a ways down to the left, but that wasn't of interest.
One lone man stood against the edge of the waves, looking out across the Davao Gulf, watching the cargo ships and barges floating in and out of the ports along the coastline. Sighing in relief, Scarlett closed the curtains, left Snake Eyes' room and took the elevator down to the ground floor.
Once outside, she walked past the beach-chairs out onto the sand and quickly found the lone man standing next to the waves.
"You had me worried there, Snake Eyes. I thought, maybe, you know, that he had found you."
Snake Eyes looked down and put his hands in his pockets.
"Look, I know how much it hurts." Scarlett paused. "Who am I kidding? Of course I don't know how much it hurts. All I can do is tell you that no matter how you feel, no matter what happens, I'll always be with you." She gently grabbed his chin and turned his face toward her. The rubber mask slid an inch to the left. She couldn't help but flinch; it was a disturbing effect to feel.
"Don't abandon me, Snake Eyes, because I swear, I will never abandon you." With that, the pair of Joes embraced in a long kiss that broke every emotional restraint the Joe commando had.
2.
After paying a surprisingly small amount of money to a fisherman to get a ride on his fishing boat, the group of Joes headed over to Samal Island. It was a forty-five minute trek across Davao Gulf to reach the Pearl Farm Beach Resort—a beautiful area that was once used to grow oysters off the coast of Samal. Now it was arguably the finest resort in the Davao City region. Tourists were spread across the waters in front of the small triangular buildings, racing around on their jet-skis or soaking up the sunlight on the white beaches. The Cobra agent working from this resort sure liked living large.
After giving the fisherman an extra few bucks and a thank you, the Joes walked down the dock and made for the resort's main office. Luckily, there were not an exuberant amount of buildings to search. Foreigners were few-and-far-between at the resort; finding a Caucasian smuggler shouldn't take much time.
"Well, this place sure doesn't look like a place that illegal shipping would be operating from." said Mainframe.
"That's what makes it perfect." stated Chuckles. "No one would look for crime around a place like this. The problem is, if someone does see it, it really stands out."
"There's the main building." pointed out Scarlett.
Chuckles sped up to the front of the group. "I'll see if I can get this guy's info from the front desk."
After a couple of minutes, Chuckles walked out of the main buildings scratching his head and drinking a Coca-Cola. "Guess what, guys? A Mr. David Carbo has been staying in room 4B for almost 12 days."
"David Carbo, Eh?" asked Scarlett. "That name is just drenched with the words "Crimson Guard."
"No doubt."
"Any description of the guy?" inquired Mainframe.
"Didn't ask." Chuckles took a swig of his Coke.
"Great. So we have no idea what David Carbo looks like, then?" griped Mainframe."
"Nope." replied Chuckles, "That makes this job twice as interesting, don't ya think? But c'mon, we know he's a white guy. I figured that's all we need."
Lifting up their luggage bags over their shoulders, the team cautiously moved on towards building Four.
3.
At the entrance to room 4B, Scarlett and Snake Eyes stood at each side of the door and whispered.
"You want this one, Snake?" asked the red-head. The Joe commando nodded.
Stepping back, Snake Eyes delivered a lightning quick kick through the door, slamming it inside the room and breaking an end-table.
"Damn. He's not here." growled Scarlett.
"Is there a computer in here?" asked Mainframe.
"Yes."
"Excellent." After sitting in front of it, Mainframe powered up his laptop and hooked his computer up to David Carbo's. "I should have his entire hard drive copied in a few minutes, then we can start analyzing it."
Scarlett looked at Snake Eyes, who was once again looking out the windows of a hotel room. However, the entire back wall of room 4B was a window, with a sliding glass door. "Okay. Chuckles, stay here and give Mainframe some back-up. Snake and I are going to the beach."
"You two be good this time." joked the undercover agent.
Scarlett smacked him on the back of the head as she walked out.
4.
On the beach, Scarlett squinted hard as she examined every person in site. Two unidentifiable people were on Wave-Runners about eighty-yards away. A few people were swimming, but they all looked Asian. There were more people about fifty yards down the beach. Scarlett began to run towards them when she was cut off by an old Filipino lady.
"You like your stay at Pearl Farm?"
"Yes, mam. It's very nice. Now, if you'll excuse me."
"I come here every year. See many Americans. Like you."
Scarlett could see that there was little hope of getting by the lady. Hopefully Snake Eyes was making progress. "That's very fascinating, but I really need to--."
"Are you looking for friend?" The lady grabbed Scarlett's right shoulder, turned her towards the ocean and pointed to one of the Wave-Runners. "That him out there? He been out for almost an hour. Hog jet-ski every day."
Scarlett's eyes were no longer squinting—they were bugging out. Grabbing her communicator, she screamed into it, "Snake Eyes! I've found him!" Totally ignoring the grinning old lady, Scarlett sprinted for the jet-ski docks.
As her boots clomped down the thick wooden dock, she focused in on the jet-ski at the front of the pack. The man in charge of rentals stepped in front of her, yelling out warnings in Filipino and waving his hands; she shoved him off the dock and splashing backwards into the water. Leaping through the air, she landed perfectly on a jet-ski, turned the engine on and buzzed away from the dock, snapping the rope that had moored the watercraft to the dock.
Keeping her eyes focused on David Carbo, she bounced across the waves, smacking across them vigorously, but totally ignoring the potential risk to herself and the jet-ski. As she approached fifty yards distance from the Crimson Guardsman, he took notice and gave her a hard look. Quickly recognizing the G.I. Joe, even out of uniform, he boosted his Wave-Runner to full speed, performing a hard left turn and attempted to race away. Unfortunately, she was a lighter load for her jet-ski, and she managed to catch up to him despite his lead.
After a few seconds of twists and turns, Scarlett raced up alongside David, and attempted to sideswipe his Wave-Runner. The two watercraft hit each other and spew water at their fast-moving pilots. After a couple of hits, David kicked out at Scarlett, lightly smacking her right thigh. Scarlett swooped in for another sideswipe, but the Crimson Guardsman responded by reducing speed and swerving to his right. Scarlett shot past him, and pulled a hard right turn. David turned back left and accelerated, smashing into the side of Scarlett's jet-ski, which flipped it over, dunked her underwater and launched David's Wave-Runner into the air…
5.
As the Crimson Guardsman's wave-runner splashed down into the water, he spun it around just in time to see Scarlett pop up from beneath the water's surface, coughing and struggling to keep afloat. Revving his engine to full speed, David grinned, then bee-lined straight for the Joe's wet head, bobbing in the water straight ahead of him.
With less than five yards to go, the buzz of another Wave-Runner drowned out all other sound pouring into David's left ear. Looking over, he saw another jet-ski come crashing into his, sending both men and watercraft tumbling across the waves.
As David's own head resurfaced, he could see a blond man pushing Scarlett back onto her jet-ski. Looking to his right, he could see his Wave-Runner bouncing on the waves. It was damaged, but probably still worked. Swimming over to it, he slowly, painfully pulled himself back aboard. After coughing up some more water, he attempted to sit up; but suddenly, painfully, something clamped onto his ankle. Looking behind him, he could see the blond man behind him, but…his face was…crooked? Crying out in terror, David desperately tried to keep himself atop his watercraft as the man with the mangled face dragged him beneath the waves…
6.
Blinking his eyes open, David Carbo squeaked in panic at the sight of Snake Eyes' black visor staring straight at him less than three feet away. Attempting to jump back, the Crimson Guardsman yelped in pain as he felt the handcuffs that bound him to a chair dig into his wrists. Despite this humiliating situation, there was really only one question on David's mind: shouldn't he be dead? Some mutated Joe had dragged him to his death, hadn't he? Looking around, he recognized that he was back in his hotel room at the Pearl Farm Beach Resort, but there were four Joes in there with him. He needed answers.
"Why didn't you kill me?" he asked with a groggy voice.
Scarlett, standing next to the Cobra agent, handed him a cup of coffee. "Nice to see you, too, Mr. Carbo. Enjoy your two-hour nap?"
"Two…two hours?" gasped Carbo after gulping down the caffeine.
"Yup." Said Chuckles, sitting in a reversed chair next to the desk across from the bed. "I've been tempted to wake you up all day, but for some reason Snake Eyes insisted on showing you a bit o' mercy."
Looking around, David asked, "Where's the blond guy that pulled me underwater?"
Scarlett nodded towards the Joe commando. "That was Snake Eyes."
Confused, David leaned back, "He looks that weird under his mask?"
Bending forward, Scarlett grabbed the empty cup of coffee. "No. Weirder. Now, it's our turn to ask you some questions. First, what is your full name?"
Smiling, the Cobra agent bellowed with the pride that had been pounded into him through years of brain-washing. "I am David Carbo IX, Crimson Guardsman of the Cobra Empire."
"Lucky number nine, eh?" asked Mainframe.
Chuckles contemplated, "That means there's at least eight other guys in the world that look just like you? I mean, I know that for every name series in the Crimson Guard, a bunch of guys get themselves a ton of plastic surgery so that they're all identical. That way, you can replace each other on long term missions if something happens."
"Don't worry, there aren't more than a couple dozen David Carbo's in this world, and once I'm gone, my replacement will soon arrive. You've accomplished nothing." David grinned.
"Zip it, Carbo." snarled Scarlett. "We know that you've been sending equipment to Edinburgh from here. What kind of equipment are you shipping and where are you storing it at?"
David laughed. "You can't honestly think that I'm going to answer that."
Snake Eyes pulled his gloves tightly over his hands. Scarlett smiled. "Yes, I do."
7.
Half-an-hour later, David Carbo was once again asleep on his chair and Mainframe was typing on his computer. The other Joes were herded around the desk, keeping a close eye on what the Joe computer expert was doing.
"It was nice of Davy-Boy to tell Snake Eyes he kept these parts in the boathouse." joked Chuckles as he looked at the black box now sitting on the bed.
"Too bad he doesn't know where it goes." sighed Scarlett. David had explained that he only handed the equipment off in a secured box to another Crimson Guardsman at the Pearl Farm Resort's dock, who took it to its final destination. "So what do these things do?" asked Scarlett, referring to the two parts found in the black box.
"I've studied enough electronics to have a pretty good idea about what this stuff David is sending to Destro does." Mainframe picked up a rectangular metallic device out of the box and began examining its inner parts. "This piece has parts found in energy conductors. It's obviously meant to channel and possibly amplify some sort of power source. It's amazingly small for what it potentially does, but I don't know what the whole puzzle looks like, so I can't really make any valid judgments."
Chuckles handed the computer genius the second part, slightly conical and a bit longer than the first, spouting three thin, sharp, hollow tubes. "What about this one?"
Mainframe shrugged. "A laser gun barrel? I mean, it looks like something you'd attach to the end of a 'Star Wars' blaster. I really don't have any other ideas. It's certainly not made for bullets."
The G.I. Joe undercover agent reached out for it and looked at it. "Cool. Can I keep this one?"
Scarlett crossed her arms and walked towards the window overlooking the beach. "So, Cobra is relaying power conductors and laser guns through David IX's little outpost here. That doesn't sound too world-threatening. This is just a little Cobra-style UPS station."
Chuckles scratched his chin. "If it's so unimportant, then why is Destro sending Storm Shadow to pick up the shipments?"
"Or more importantly," pondered Scarlett, "Why isn't Destro's company, M.A.R.S., just building all of the equipment and shipping it to Cobra themselves?"
Chuckles shook his head. "I don't think that matters right now. What we need to focus on is where this stuff is going."
"Well, we know that it's destined to be picked up from here." said Mainframe.
Putting the devices back into their black shipping box sitting on the bed, Scarlett ordered, "Then we better get ready for the big pick-up."
Snake Eyes walked up to Chuckles holding a gray business suit. Sighing, the undercover agent replied, "I guess I'm the one delivering the box."
"Was there any doubt?" Scarlett smiled.
8.
Resting high upon the southern slope of an active volcano, the massive stronghold known as Cobra Temple defied the forces of nature simply by its existence. Protected by ten-foot thick concrete walls sporting titanium shells, it had repeatedly deflected the molten sludge-balls spurting from the mouth of the volcano. Glowing with the arrogant defiance of the man who designed the temple and now called it home, it dared the powers of the world to destroy it, forever believing in its own invincibility.
Shaped like a modern castle, it was built with one-hundred-foot high, smooth, sloping walls surrounding a massive one-hundred-eighty-foot inner tower of similar design, sporting the massive head of a cobra that protruded another thirty feet from the top. Over a hundred hidden gun ports and thirty launch bays littered the walls of the structure. Expanding from the sides were still more sloping walls topped with smaller, yet just as frightening cobra heads. Hidden gun ports and launch bays were spread across the wings of the temple as well. The thirty-foot tall, Cobra emblem-shaped main entrance spurted ten feet out from the center of the temple, providing a menacing doorway into the darkness within.
Atop his throne inside the mouth of a giant metallic cobra, Cobra Commander sat hunched over with his elbow on his knee and knuckles on his chin beneath his blue hood. The room was dim, with only a handful of candles left lit; but it was the way he liked it when he needed to think. Things were not going well for the Cobra Terrorist Organization lately, and a new plan was needed. For some reason all of his top advisors were off on their own little missions, and he was left on Cobra Island all alone. Didn't they understand what loyalty meant?
Looking down from his high mount, the head snake could see two of his elite Crimson Guardsmen standing at either side of the massive chamber doors. Chosen from the cream of the crop, his guards were sworn to be the best—but they were really morons. No man with any sort of intelligence would stand by a doorway all day long; especially in a place as dull as the Cobra Temple Throne Room. Most guards applied for work down at the Terror Drome. Apparently work down there was more interesting. Bah. Perhaps it was a good time to test just how loyal his guards really were.
Cobra Commander sat up and pointed to the guard on his left. "You! Come to me!"
Slapped out of his empty trance, the guard stood at attention then pointed to himself. "M-me, Cobra Commander, sir?"
"I'm looking at you, aren't I? Come over here!"
The Crimson Guardsman drew upon his inner courage and walked across the throne room to the base of the twenty-foot-high throne's stairway. The Commander stood up, un-holstered a .45 cal pistol and aimed it at directly at the red-uniformed guard.
"You have two ways of saving your life, Crimson Guardsman: one is to dodge a volley of bullets fired from my gun."
Gulping, the guard asked, "And the other?"
Smiling, Cobra Commander spread his arms in a joyous pose, "Ah, your other choice is much simpler! All you have to do is kill that other guard!"
Shocked into deeper attention, the guard from the right side of the door stepped back and took a more defensive pose. The challenged guard turned to look at him, feeling deep distress: the two men had known each other for over a year. But Cobra was not a place for deep emotion: if you valued your own life, you did not care for the lives of others.
Raising his rifle, the left guard prepared to shoot, when the Commander barked down to him. "No, you fool! I would not let it be that easy! Drop your rifle! You are only allowed to use your knife!"
Looking up at the Head Snake in disbelief, the guard nervously set down his gun and un-sheathed his six-inch blade. Tossing all emotion and restraint aside, the Crimson Guardsmen charged the other one screaming with his knife raised high in the air.
Cobra Commander screamed down to the guard on the right side, "Well, don't just stand there, you imbecile! Defend yourself!" Nodding intensely, the guard dropped his gun and grabbed his knife. The two men crashed together, slamming into the chamber doors, trying their hardest to stab their opponent for no justified reason. Unfortunately, Crimson Guardsman uniforms come with a layer of bullet-resistant Kevlar, and stabbing them is darn near impossible. Their helmet's armor was even stronger. This made knife fights much more difficult, or entertaining.
Laughing in glee as his loyal soldiers obeyed his order to kill one another, the Commander jumped as his throne's LCD video communication panel raised up out of the right armrest. A red light flashed on the top of the panel, and the Extensive Enterprises emblem filled the screen.
"Damn, it's those twins again." growled Cobra Commander. Looking back down to the scuffling guards, he called down to them. "Here, use this!" He then threw the .45 pistol down from the throne. It clanged onto the room's metallic floor and skidded to a stop just a couple of feet from the fighters. The two men changed the focus of their duel to getting their hands on that gun.
Before activating the LCD screen, Cobra Commander flipped a green switch, which lowered a six-inch thick, transparent, bullet-proof, plastic ball down from the ceiling that encompassed the throne. It was designed to protect the throne from any form of attack; now it was only out to block stray shots from a Colt .45.
The LCD flickered to life, and the image of the two Crimson Guard Commanders appeared on the screen. "Hail Cobra!"
"Yes, yes, hail Cobra. What do you want?" snarled the Commander. He had learned that when the twins called him, it was usually bad news.
"We have…" began one twin.
"…Some negative news." finished the other. They always did that: completed each others sentences, spoke in parts and such. It was almost sickening. But they were identical twins, perfect reflections of each other, which is why they christened themselves Tomax and Xamot. Look at the name Tomax in the mirror in all capital letters. It reads Xamot. Sickening. If it wasn't for Xamot's scar on his left cheek, the Commander would be at a loss for their identities.
Despite their annoying traits, the men were phenomenal at illegal business. They had been able to create the massive worldwide corporation known as "Extensive Enterprises" and keep it Scott-free of the law for two decades. It had made billions for the Cobra Terrorist Organization, and secured an unbreakable grasp on the capitalist world.
Feeling his boredom transform into firing rage, Cobra Commander growled at the two men, garbed in their light-gray, five-thousand-dollar business suits, "Why do you two always have bad news for me? Why can't you ever tell me something positive?" Calming down slightly, the Head Snake asked, "What is wrong this time?"
Tomax began, "We seem to have lost…"
"…Contact with one of our Crimson Guardsmen." finished Xamot.
"Why would that be of any significance to me?" groaned the Commander.
Xamot explained, "Because he is David Carbo IX."
"Our experimental weapons relay in the Philippines." Tomax prepared himself for a blast of rage. It came.
"What?" screamed Cobra Commander as he stood up and hissed, an old habit he had long been trying to break, "You swore to me that your stupid relay plan was foolproof, that the Joes would never catch on to what was happening in Davao!"
"Please, Commander, calm down." pleaded Tomax.
"We have everything in control." assured Xamot.
Reluctantly sitting back in his throne, the Head Snake glared at the screen. "You just told me that you've lost contact with one of our most important field agents in the world, and now you're telling me that it's all under control?"
Smiling, Xamot explained, "Although we felt it necessary to fill you in on the situation, Commander…"
"…Please be assured…" continued Tomax.
"…We always have a back-up plan." said the smiling twins in unison.
Before he could respond, a gunshot echoed throughout the throne room. Quickly looking back down to the guards, Cobra Commander saw both of the fighting guardsmen lying on the floor—both of them were motionless.
"What the hell? How can that be?"
"We heard a gunshot, Commander." said Tomax with mild concern.
"Are you all right?" asked Xamot.
"Huh? Oh, yes, yes, I'm fine. Do your back-up plan. Cobra Commander out." As the LCD's image faded away, the twins looked at each other in confusion.
The transparent blast shield raised back to the ceiling and the Head Snake cautiously walked down the steps towards the Crimson Guardsmen's bodies. After testing them with his foot, it became obvious that they were both dead, but had died from just one gun shot—neither one had been stabbed.
But…but how?
"Aaarrrggghhh! I hate mysteries!"
9.
What had once been a bright, sun-drenched day had surrendered to an armada of gray clouds moving down from the northwest. Although they weren't spilling any rains yet, the clouds had given extra strength to the winds. The Pearl Farm Beach Resort had lost a lot of the activity on its beach and in the waters around it, but there were still some tourists enjoying the exotic atmosphere.
Pulling at the wrists of the light gray suit, Chuckles cursed David Carbo's smaller size. Chuckles wasn't that big of a person, but apparently Cobra liked their David Carbo's small.
The real difficulty was what to do about his hair. David was a brunet, Chuckles was a blond. There was no other choice but to put on a wide-brimmed hat and hope that a man standing out on a dock, wearing a business suit and a big hat didn't look too conspicuous.
Right.
Well, sometimes you just have to play with the cards that are dealt to you. David's little buddy would be arriving any minute now, so the Joe undercover agent looked down at the box he was carrying and prayed the tracking device Snake Eyes placed inside wouldn't be found.
A high-pitched hum caught Chuckles' attention and he looked up. A ski-boat skipped across the waves around a yacht and straight for the main dock at the resort—right where the Joe was standing. In a couple of minutes the boat slowed down and drifted up to the side of the dock.
The driver was Hispanic, and of healthy size—no doubt he was a well-trained troop, just like David was. He didn't wear anything that would reveal him to be Cobra agent—he just had a white t-shirt and blue shorts. Everything about him was plain, and that made him all the more frightening. Chuckles reached out and grabbed the side of the craft, then quickly moored it to the dock with a rope. The hat worked. If the driver had seen his blond hair, he would never have pulled up to the dock.
Willing to risk everything on a hunch, Chuckles asked, "You Reyes?"
"What if I am? Who are you?" asked the boat's driver, "Where's Dave? Why are you in his suit?"
"Dave has been replaced. I am the relay agent in Davao City now." said Chuckles sternly.
"Liar. I would have been informed of something like that. Untie my boat, now."
Holding out the box, Chuckles slapped it, "Look! Here's the box! I've delivered it in perfect shape and on time, just as I was ordered to. Do you believe me now?"
Still looking doubtful, and staying away from the box, the driver stood up and asked, "Let me see your orders."
Tucking the box back under his arm, the Joe reached into his shirt-pocket. "Here. Look for yourself." He handed them over to the driver, who snatched them away and sat back down.
After reading them for a minute, the driver shook his head. "Dammit all to hell. Why wasn't I told about this?"
Feeling a bit of tension loosening in his chest, Chuckles held out the box again. "I'm not in charge of big decisions. I just do as I'm told."
Grabbing the box, the driver cursed and told Chuckles to untie him from the dock. After loosening the rope and tossing it onto the bow, the Joe undercover agent waved to the driver, who ignored him as the ski-boat raced around and took off—strangely enough straight back for the yacht.
Once the sleek little boat was out of sight, Scarlett and Snake Eyes walked out from behind the boathouse, then down the dock and up to Chuckles.
"So, it worked?" asked Scarlett.
"Yup. Piece of cake. And the pick-up guy was Julio Reyes."
"Well, we've found him, too, then. How did Mainframe's fake orders do?"
Chuckles smiled and turned around. "Hook, line and sinker. That smuggler moron was totally fooled."
Scarlett stepped to the dock's edge and looked out to the horizon. "Good. Let's get everyone together and into a boat. We've got some Cobras to chase after, and no time to spare."