Chapter 8
Countdown
The massive Cobra Stun ST-21 rolled down the dirt road, crushing twigs and rocks with its enormous wheels as the boat-shaped trike explored the Andes Mountainsides. It had been a slow day, as it had always been. Locals had avoided the area near Hyuana Picchu since Cobra had invaded last year, and the sight they feared the most was that of an approaching Stun.
The Stun was a three-wheeled vehicle, but about the size of a Hummer. It's boat-bow-shaped front-end could split into halves that spread apart from central side axes, giving the trike almost one-hundred-and-eighty-degrees of horizontal fire. The rotational ability of the guns gave them nearly ninety-degrees of vertical firing range as well. Built with two six-foot long twin cannons, the Stun is one of the few high-speed artillery vehicles in existence. Ultimately, since the Stun was such a highly experimental device, Cobra used very few of them; but the ones in use were very fast, and very powerful devices.
"Looks like there's another storm comin' in." said Motor Viper MV-35, sitting in the port gun pit.
"Crap. Why did I have to pick a vehicle that didn't have a roof?"
"Shut-up, 67." ordered the commander to the right gun pit. "You picked the Stun 'cause they're fast and they're cool lookin'."
"Yeah, but we're missin' one of our flags! Nobody has a Stun without its flags!"
The commander growled, wishing that he had something to throw at his insubordinate gunner. "Either you shut up, or I'll shut you up, got it? Let's just increase our pace a little bit, then we can get back to the temple before the storm hits."
"We still need to check the ruins."
"Yeah, yeah. We'll get up there, don't get antsy."
Pressing the accelerator, Motor-Viper Commander-42 frowned. Nothing was worse than a bunch of cranky troops. At lease MV-51, who sat behind the commander at the 9mm gun station kept quiet most of the time. Of course, he was usually just really creepy.
"You gonna complain about anything, 51?" asked the commander.
"Huh? No, I just wanna go home. I hate bein' wet."
"I agree with you there, bro'."
A distant flash of lightning started a whole new round of griping from the Motor-Vipers.
1.
Solitude was a deadlier weapon to Scarlett than any tool in the Cobra arsenal; but she had spent the last ten hours alone in a foreign military hospital, assigned to a room built for six. With nothing to do but think about the mistakes of the last week, emotional agony was devouring what little sanity she had left.
Her lover, the man that provided the foundation to her happiness in this world, had gone, leaving her only a short note. Deep down, she knew something like this would happen. He was a hero who was hungry for justice. If Snake Eyes knew about a wrong in the world, he would do anything to correct it. Now, he knew where Cobra was, and if he stayed in the hospital to accept his punishment…well that only gave Cobra more power. No, Snake Eyes had to leave—but…he was the only person on Earth that Scarlett could confide in.
The hospital room's door opened, and Doc walked in, wearing a heartwarming smile on his face. The Joe team's only Military Policeman, Law, followed behind him. Luckily Law's dog, Order, was not with him.
"Hello, Scarlett. How are you feeling today?"
"Oh, Doc! It's so good to see a familiar face! But you didn't need to bring Law with you, I'm not going to put up a fight."
Doc sighed. "Actually, Law is here to take Snake Eyes into custody. Is he around?" Scarlett's look of fear on her face answered the question for the Joe doctor. "I take it he ran off?"
Scarlett slowly nodded. "I honestly don't know where he is. He left when I was asleep."
Law smiled. "We kind of figured he would. But I sort of have to look around anyways, y'know? Sorry."
As the MP walked through the room, Doc grabbed Scarlett's bandaged leg and said, "Let's look at that leg of yours."
"I hope he's okay, Doc."
"I'm sure he is, Scarlett. He's the best of the best."
"Yeah, but—ouch! That spot hurts. Storm Shadow has been hunting him, Doc. I need to be with him."
Doc thought for a moment. "I've known Snake Eyes a long time, Scarlett, almost as long as you. What I've learned about him is that you should never underestimate his passion for victory. Personally, I feel it's stronger than even Storm Shadow's."
Smiling, Scarlett leaned back on her pillow. "Thanks, Doc. I just…miss him."
"Me, too. But even if he is in trouble, I'm sure he'll find a way out of it."
Scarlett felt a tear slide down her cheek and wiped it away. Looking back to her fellow Joes, she asked, "Can we go now?"
Doc looked over to Law. The MP nodded. "Yeah, I'm satisfied that he isn't in here."
"Let's go then."
2.
"C'mon, you slackers! We ain't here to loot the place!" The Motor-Viper commander tapped his fingers on the Stun's controls as he waited for his team to return. One-by-one, his group of three Stun pilots exited the Machu Picchu hotel, each one carrying an arm-load of riches.
"You idiots, get rid of that crap! We don't have room for it all in the Stun!"
"Ah, c'mon, 42! This is real gold!" whined MV-67 as he dumped it into the storage container on the right side of the vehicle. "I'll split it with you."
The commander turned around as he heard MV-35 putting something into the left-side container. "So what did you get?"
"A toaster."
"What?"
He shrugged his shoulders. "I want a toaster."
"You're nuts." said MV-67.
The front door of the hotel opened up and MV-51 stepped out, adjusting his helmet.
"What the hell?" gawked MV-67. "Where did you find those things?" The other Motor-Vipers looked over and froze with amazement as MV-51 unsheathed the two swords he was carrying on his back and held them up
"Damn, dude, you've got us beat out, that's for sure." said MV-67.
Stumbling out of the hotel, MV-51 sheathed the swords and walked towards the Stun, but hesitated as he drew closer.
"What's the matter, ya mute, you forget where to sit down?" MV-67 started laughing while the Motor-Vipers crawled into their gunner positions. MV-51 then walked to the rear 9mm spot and sat down.
The commander looked back at MV-51, but since the raindrops were beginning to fall, he decided to keep quiet.
3.
The prison-room door opened again, snapping the four Joe prisoners to attention. Grunt looked up to see the burly Cobra Trooper walk in, carrying another plate of the sickening gruel that he had fed the team earlier. In true Cobra form, it was a soup-like meal, but he didn't give the group o Joes any eating utensils.
"Afternoon, boys, it's lunch time. Enjoy your breakfast?" He looked into the cell and frowned. "You must have, considering the bowl and plate are gone." He set the new plate down and drew his pistol. "Alright, jerks, where's the tray? Thinking of using it as a weapon?"
"We ate it." said Crankcase, in an even grimmer tone than usual.
"Oh, you ate it." The Trooper snorted. He grabbed his keys and worked the lock, then slid the door open. Pulling out a pistol, he ordered, "Give me the bowl and the tray, or I start shootin'."
Alpine dropped down from his bunk and stood at the back wall. He pulled the bowl out from behind his back. "Come and get it."
"What? Are you insane?" asked the guard.
"No, I'm hungry. And I don't think you've got the guts to enter a prison cell filled with four Joes."
The Cobra Trooper stared at Alpine for a moment, the spurted out laughing, and kept laughing louder and louder. He slammed the cell door shut and walked out of the prison room, laughing hysterically.
"So much for your big plan, Grunt." snarled Crankcase.
"Don't worry. It's working perfectly." Grunt looked at Chuckles, who was on his knees, frantically reaching out of the cell and into the prison room. "What are you doing, Chuckles?"
"He left the food in the room. I'm trying to reach it."
After looking at each other in shock, the rest of the Joe prisoners joined Chuckles, stretching their arms out to the tray, trying to snag their gruesome meal lying out on the prison room floor.
4.
The final turn of the Inca Trail was approaching, and Motor-Viper-42 couldn't be more ticked off. He had heard enough giggles and jokes about little gold statues and titanium toaster ovens to last two lifetimes. The rain was thick, and the wind was slapping the Stun's single red flag all over the place. He almost wished that MV-51 would say something, but he was quieter now than ever. Probably gloating over those cool new swords.
"Okay, you idiots, once we get off this stupid trail, we start heading back towards the Temple Outpost."
"I say we go back to the hotel." said MV-67. I think I saw a convection oven that I'd like a swipe at."
"Yeah, make your stupid jokes." laughed MV-35. "But I'll be the one chomping down on crisp BLTs back at base."
"Bacon? Where the heck are you gonna find any--."
"Shut up you two!" barked MV-42 as he slammed the brakes and shifted gears down. The other Motor-Vipers looked forward and grabbed their gun controls, unlocking the safety controls and activating the wet LED screens of the targeting systems.
Sitting at the end of the Incan Trail, about eighty-yards from the Stun sat a G.I. Joe RApid-fire Motorcycle, or RA.M. An unidentifiable Joe sat on the seat, wearing a green rain cloak that flapped vigorously in the wind. He reached up to his helmet and said something into a microphone that MV-42 couldn't hear.
"What do we do, commander?" asked MV-35. "Do we take him down?"
Stun-21 was four-times bigger that that old Joe crotch-rocket. That was both its strength and its weakness. The Stun had two large twin cannons, but the RA.M. dragged along a 20mm gatling gun as its sidecar. The Motor-Vipers might hit that Joe with their first shot, but if they didn't, that gatling gun would tear the Stun apart and definitely kill at least one of the drivers before MV-42 could get it away.
Acceptable.
"All right, guys, get ready to blast that Joe off the mountainside." ordered the commander.
"What? Are you freaking crazy?"
"Yeah! Let's fry that twerp!"
MV-42 revved the Stun's engine; responding to the slam of the accelerator, the Stun roared to life, spraying dirt and gravel behind its tires and into the air. Blasting forward in a drag-race-like fashion, the massive Cobra vehicle charged for the little RA.M. motorcycle.
MV-35 took the first shot, but the shells flew high, sailing over the gatling gun sidecar, causing an eruption twenty feet behind the Joe. In order to give the starboard-side cannons a shot, the commander turned the Stun a bit left—that would give MV-67 a clear view, and he was a better shot than MV-35, and more bloodthirsty. But before he could get fully turned, the trigger-happy MV-67 fired a blast that sailed off of the mountainside.
"Dammit, 67! Aim your fire!" They were just about up to the RA.M., and the Joe hadn't even flinched. Was this guy stupid? Deciding to give MV-35 another shot, he turned the Stun back right, and the Stun's portside cannons were beginning to line up with the motorcycle, when some mysteriously loud humming became very, very, loud, thunderous humming.
Four explosions spread across the roadway between the Stun and the RA.M., bringing the Cobra vehicle to a screeching halt. Swooping in from the left came a G.I. Joe Dragonly XH-1 helicopter—with its 160mm cannon smoking. Shrieking nearly as loud as Cobra Commander, MV-42 turned right, nearly rolling the three-wheeler. As the Cobra's frantically maneuvered their vehicle, the Dragonfly hovered itself over the RA.M. Once the Stun had fully turned itself around, The motorcycle finally fired its gatling gun. The Stun's rear right wheel was torn off, and the trike dropped down to the ground and spun around, spewing mud and rock.
5.
"Destro! Is that infernal Matrix Cannon ready yet?" barked Cobra Commander as he barged into the research laboratory of the Cobra Incan Temple Outpost. The room was only two-thirds the size of Destro's lab in the Libyan warehouse, and did not have a hanging robotic arm. It was filled with run-of-the-mill tools and only had a single computer with any decent amount of memory. Needless to say, the Lord of Castle Destro was unimpressed.
"Patience, dear Cobra Commander. If you had provided me with an adequate research department perhaps it would be completed by now."
Blowing a puff of frustration under his hood, Cobra Commander stepped closer to Destro. "This lab is state-of-the-art! You're just taking too long!" The Commander walked to a table and picked up some shiny parts. "I had heard that you already performed a weapons test in Libya and it worked just fine."
In a deep, slow voice, Destro replied, "That test was for the basic firing system. I have added new parts to the cannon since then, significantly altering the Matrix Cannon's power processors. If you fired it now, it would explode, and you would die. But please, if it is that important to you, be my guest." Destro set the device onto the table, then leaned back on his stool and crossed his arms.
Cobra Commander frowned and shook his head. "Just…just hurry up." Waving his arm, the leader of the Cobra Terrorist Organization walked out of the door.
Grumbling, lost in his self-centered thought, the Commander nearly crashed into a Tele-Viper—a Cobra communications trooper—walking up to him. "Sir!"
"Huh?" What do you want?" snarled the terrorist leader as he looked down upon his blue-uniformed troop that wore giant goggles equipped with a Head's Up Display, or HUD.
"Sir, we have an emergency!" nervously replied the Tele-Viper.
Cursing, Cobra Commander pointed down the hall towards the communications room. "Tell me on the way to the Comm-Room."
"Yes, sir! We have lost contact with a Stun that was on patrol around the mountain, sir."
"What?" Cobra Commander pushed past the Tele-Viper.
"Yes, sir. Stun ST-21 has missed its noon check-in." The Commander looked at his watch. It was 12:14pm.
Always high-strung, Cobra Commander assumed the worst. "There must be Joes around here, looking for us. Send out a squadron of Trubble Bubbles to search for the Stun. They're to destroy any Joe vehicle they find."
"Yes, sir." The Tele-Viper began typing on his computer like crazy.
Cobra Commander stormed out of the room, yelling to himself, "Dammit, Destro! I need that Matrix Cannon, and I need it now!"
6.
Inching closer to the Stun, the Joe on the RA.M. waved thanks to the Dragonfly as it flew north towards Machu Picchu. While watching the Motor-Vipers crawl off the wreckage, the Joe drew an M-16 from beneath his flapping rain cloak.
"Okay, you bozos, get out of the big wheel and stand in a row in front of me." MV-67 looked back at the Joe who was…blowing bubble gum?
"Who you calllin' bozo's, bubble brain?" growled the Cobra.
"Shut up, 67!" barked MV-42. "I'm Motor-Viper 42, commander of this pack of turkeys. Look. Maybe we can cut a deal."
A gum bubble popped on the Joe's mouth. "Sure. And maybe some llamas will start flying out of my butt. My name is Breaker, communications officer for the G.I. Joe team. You guys are all captured. But don't worry. Being captured by us is a lot nicer than Cobra Commander says it is." Breaker looked at the group of Cobras standing before him. "Hey, buddy, there is no way that your swords are going to stop my bullets, so drop 'em."
The other Vipers looked to MV-51, who was still carrying the two swords he found at the Machu Picchu hotel. MV-67 started laughing at the sight of such apparent arrogance, but the other Vipers noticed that MV-51 couldn't stand up straight.
"Hey, let us go. One of our guys is hurt." pointed out MV-42.
"Bull." said Breaker. He got up off of the RA.M. and looked at the Motor-Vipers. As he examined them, MV-51 attempted to stand up straight. The Stun hadn't exploded or crashed, so no one could have been hurt too badly, Breaker was careful about that. Still, when he took a closer look at MV-51, he could sense the pain the man was feeling, even though the Viper still wore his cubical, silver helmet.
Touching the transmitter on his own helmet, Breaker said, "Inca One, this is Rogue Conquistador, come in, please."
After a couple of seconds a reply came. "Rogue Conk, this is Inca One, we're receiving you."
"Yeah, hey, I've got a pack of nasty snakes up here and I need pick up. One looks hurt. Estimated time to my position?"
"You've gotten a bit too far ahead of everyone else, R.C. We're stuck on these twisting mountain roads. You're going to have to hold those snakes for at least another hour. You're lucky we could get the Dragonfly to you. Inca One out."
"R.C. out. Damn."
MV-51 hunched over and dropped to one knee. Breaker risked getting closer. "Hey, pal, talk to me, what's wrong with you?"
The Motor-Viper wouldn't respond.
Standing back, Breaker pointed to the commander: "You, get his helmet off of him." Nodding, MV-42 knelt down and began unlatching the silver faceplate's clamps. After quickly pulling the helmet off, the Motor-Vipers cried out in shock at the site of the blond man kneeling before them. Breaker ran up to the Viper and turned him around, choking down his bubblegum when he recognized the blond man's face. "Snake Eyes! What are you doing here?"
The Joe commando pulled himself up using Breaker's shoulders, then walked towards the RA.M.
"Hey, uh, Snake, that's my ride." said Breaker, while trying to keep his eyes on the Motor-Vipers.
Climbing onto the motorcycle, the ninja turned it on and revved its engines.
"Snake, really, I need my bike! I can't get any support for an hour. You're not supposed to be on active duty anyways."
Snake Eyes reached back into one of the storage containers on the RA.M., pulled out an MRE ration and tossed it to Breaker. He then revved the engine really high, shifted it into gear and took off up the mountain hill, back towards Machu Picchu.
7.
Looking at the spilt glop on the prison room floor, Crankcase could feel his stomach growl in pain as it punished him for tipping over the bowl. It wasn't all his fault. After all, when four grown men fight for the same piece of food, something bad was destined to happen. There would be more glop to eat, right? Of course, that was lunch, and so that would mean dinner was only five hours away…maybe?
His stomach growled even louder.
"Why do you think Cobra Commander hasn't tortured us, or put us in some arena with live animals?" asked Alpine, apparently just to anyone who would answer the question.
Chuckles did. "I guess his firing squad is busy or somethin'."
"He must be busy with something." replied Grunt.
"Doin' what? Dry-cleaning his hood?" asked Crankcase.
"Getting this Incan Temple operational."
"You think we're in the new Incan Temple?" asked Chuckles.
"Well duh." groaned Alpine. "We got captured in Peru, didn't we?"
"Well, I thought maybe we were shipped off somewhere, or somethin', that's all. Sheesh."
"I figure he's spending all his time getting Destro's weapon ready. It must be just about operational." said Grunt.
"Probably is. Destro has all the parts, now that we've screwed everything up." said Crankcase.
"Shut up, Crankcase." snapped Grunt. "I don't want to here that kind of talk. We're not out of this yet."
"You still want to take out the guard?" asked Chuckles, but before Grunt could reply, the prison room door opened, and the guard walked in; but this time, he was followed by three more Cobra Troopers, all just as big as he was.
"Hello, Joes! I've come to get that bowl back, but this time I brought a few of my friends to help." He looked down at the spilt food on the floor. "Well, looks like you guys have been a little messy. I guess you don't need dinner, then."
His fellow Troopers laughed as he opened the cell door. The Joes looked to Grunt, who kept his eyes locked on the guard. "Now, I'll be needing that bowl and tray back from you." This time, he didn't bother to draw a gun; apparently, he felt the protection of his fellow Cobras was enough. He simply held out his hand.
Grunt looked up to Alpine and nodded. The Joe Mountain Trooper handed the Joe Infantry Trooper the thin metal bowl. Grunt stood up from his bed and walked up to the Cobra, who was obviously smiling behind his black facemask. Grunt looked back to Alpine, Chuckles and Crankcase, then to the Trooper…and slammed the bowl in his face. As the Cobra put his hands up to his face, Grunt punched him as hard as he could in the stomach, which brought the Cobra's hands down. Grunt then jabbed him in the face with his left hand, sending the Trooper crashing backwards into the cell bars.
Roaring in anger, the other Cobra Troopers charged into the cell. Crankcase slid the food tray out from beneath Chuckle's bunk and slapped it into a Cobra's face, then decked him in the stomach. He made a break for the cell exit, but his legs were grabbed by the guard and he crashed to the ground. Chuckles attempted to punch a Troop, but was blocked and then punched in the jaw, sending a splash of blood and a couple of teeth against the wall. Before the Trooper could connect a second punch, Alpine tackled him and pinned him against the bunk bed.
"Go!" cried the Joe Mountain Trooper.
While holding his bloody jaw, the Joe Undercover Agent ran to the cell door, and stomped on the guard's head, which freed Crankcase from his grasp. Crankcase stood back up and kicked the guard's unconscious face. As a final touch, he turned around and kicked another Trooper in the kidneys and then ran out the cell door.
Grunt took a hard punch to the mid-section, but before he could retaliate, the Cobra attacking him yelped in pain, grabbed his kidneys and fell to his knees. The Infantry Trooper decked him hard, sending him to the floor. Looking to his left, Grunt could see two Troopers beating up Alpine. Grunt pulled the sheet from his bed and draped it over one Cobra Trooper's head, then punched him twice, knocking him to the ground. The other Troop turned around to face Grunt, but before he could throw a punch, a metal bowl bonked against the back of the Cobra's head. It was all the distraction Grunt needed to wallop the Trooper in the face, sending him sliding down the wall and slumping to the floor. Grunt looked out of the cell to see that it was Chuckles who had thrown the spilt bowl from the room.
"Nice shot, Chuckles!"
"That guy wrecked my perfect teeth!"
Nodding, Grunt turned back to Alpine, who was is agonizing pain, and helped his hunched-over teammate stumble out of the cell. As they exited, Crankcase slammed the cell shut.
"Can you lock it?" asked Grunt.
"No, the guard has the key, and I ain't searching him."
"Here." Chuckles ripped a sleeve from his shirt and wrapped it around the lock, then tied a series of knots. "Maybe that will slow them down."
"Yeah, for about ten seconds."
"Good job, guys." praised Grunt. "Our next objective is to find some weapons. After that, we need to find Mainframe and Bazooka."
"Just…just leave me. I'm too busted up." whispered Alpine.
"You know damn well that Joes don't abandon each other." said Grunt with a stern voice. "We do this together. C'mon."
As the team left the prison room, Crankcase stopped, picked up the lunch food tray and threw it at the lone seventy-five-watt light-bulb in the room, casting the groaning Cobra Troopers in near-complete darkness.
8.
Breaker sat on the soggy mountain road, painfully tired of looking at his prisoners who had to be constantly ordered to shut up. Apparently, Vipers liked to bicker amongst themselves. He was also sick of the promises of wealth they made if only he would free them. He would never believe that a Cobra Stun carried thousands of dollars worth of gold in it. Why one Motor-Viper kept promising a state-of-the-art toaster was beyond reason.
As if he was dreaming, Breaker began to hear a soft rumbling sound. Was it an earthquake? A mountain-quake? Looking at the road, the Joe Communications Trooper could see the little wet pebbles begin to dance around. Whatever was vibrating the ground, it was getting closer.
As he stood up, Breaker watched a G.I. Joe Armadillo Mini-Tank round the road curve. The green, small-car-sized tank was being driven by Duke and pulling a Heavy Arms Laser (H.A.L.). The Joes Sci-fi and Recondo rode on the rear deck. It was being followed by Muskrat and Beachhead driving two more RA.M. motorcycles. A Vehicle Attack Multi-Purpose (V.A.M.P.) jeep driven by Grand Slam and Zap came up the rear. It was towing a Mobile Missile System. Unable to resist his relief, Breaker jumped and cried for joy.
"Great to see you, Duke! Yo Joe!"
The Armadillo drove up next to Breaker and shifted down, then Duke shut it off. The G.I. Joe Master Sergeant climbed out of its cockpit looking a little annoyed at his teammate's behavior. "It looks like you've been a little lonely, Breaker."
"Actually, Duke, I've had a bit of company." said the gasping communications officer.
Duke looked at the three Motor-Vipers sitting in the mud across the road, the single Motor-Viper helmet lying on the ground and the RA.M. tire-tracks leading off up the muddy road.
"Snake Eyes?"
Breaker blew a bubble and popped it. "Bingo."
"Tell me everything."
9.
Range-Viper RV-98 ran up the steep, sloping mountainside. He had to get his blue-shirt-and-black-pants-uniformed body back to base, and he had to get it back, fast. If that was indeed a G.I. Joe motorcycle—and that 20mm gatling gun stuck to its right side left little doubt—the Cobra Incan Outpost was in a lot of trouble.
The Range-Viper had kept a good eye—through his snarling skull mask, of course—on the little bike as it followed the trail up to the outpost, but as it made the last turn, he lost sight of the Joe vehicle and wouldn't find it again until he topped the hill. Trying his hardest to run faster, RV-98 pushed himself up the slope to the hilltop, then skidded to a stop as he looked down the hillside, once again looking for the little green motorcycle.
There.
He was closer now, and the Range-Viper could get a clear look at the driver.
It was a…Motor-Viper? With no helmet? And swords? Could it be a Cobra?
No. No way. Motor-Vipers aren't trained well enough to commandeer Joe motorcycles, and they don't use swords. Not a chance.
Shaking the confusion from his mind, the Cobra Wilderness Trooper saw that he had a good shot, and decided his missile launcher could take out the Joe before he knew he was even shot at. Lifting up his empty, tubular rocket-launcher, RV-98 unhooked a missile from his enormous backpack and dropped it into the tube. Once it was locked in, he raised the launcher to his shoulder and aimed for the motorcycle, which was still arcing around the hillside. After the Viper had settled the crosshairs, he pulled he trigger.
Bursting with flaring energy, the missile raced out of the launcher and silently soared down the hillside. In less than five seconds, the rocket reached its target, and exploded in a thunderous blast that sent smoking debris spiraling off in every direction. But what was that? Movement? Had the driver jumped?
Range-Viper-98 lowered his missile-launcher and squinted his eyes. He couldn't see the pilot, but… No. There was no way that someone could have escaped that shot.
Smiling, the Wilderness Trooper picked up his gear and began walking down the slope towards his kill.
10.
Destro welded on the last of the Matrix Cannon's blast tubes, then sanded down his weld spot and turned off the welding tool. Leaning back, he took a wide look at the cannon, and smiled.
It was done.
The energy conductors and focus tubes from the Philippines were on now, as well as the amplifier that Firefly had secured for him in Tunis. It was no longer just a wide-blasting raw-energy-dumper like it was in Libya; now, now it was a fine-tuned, target-able device that could incinerate cities from orbit. The Matrix Cannon was Cobra's first major step toward world domination in the twenty-first-century.
The CEO of M.A.R.S. picked up the terribly heavy device and set it on the push-cart sitting next to the work table. As if on cue, Tomax and Xamot barged through the research lab's doors.
"Thank you, Lord Destro." said Tomax.
"We'll be taking that from you, now." continued Xamot.
Destro was ready to fire his gauntlet-rockets at the twins—but he wasn't wearing his gauntlets. "What? You won't lay a finger on the Matrix Cannon. It is my weapon."
"We beg…"
"…to differ, Lord Destro."
"How did you even know that I had finished?"
Cobra Commander entered the room and pushed apart the twins, walking up to the weapons manufacturer. "Destro, Destro, Destro. We have had the Matrix Cannon project under close observation from the moment you walked in. You must remember, this is a Cobra operation, and I hold the title of Cobra Commander. Therefore…" he tapped his hand on the invention. "The Matrix Cannon is mine."
"How dare you, Commander! If you wish to continue to work with me in the future, you will respect my claims to my inventions!"
Cobra Commander snorted. "This isn't a democracy, Destro. Besides, I control the one factor that makes all of your inventions my inventions, and will keep you making inventions for me again and again." As two purple-suited Techno-Vipers pushed the cart out of the lab, Cobra Commander patted a pocket on his blue uniform. "I control the money."
The Lord of Castle Destro frowned. "I have plenty of money of my own, Commander."
"Not as much as I do. Not enough to keep building extravagant projects such as the Matrix Cannon. Remember that, next time you start feeling too 'disrepespected'."
Shaking with frustration, Destro punched the lab table and stormed out of the room. Cobra Commander was right. He could never claim recognition as long as Cobra remained stronger than the Iron Grenadiers, and since Destro lacked the bloodlust that the Commander thrived on, he would always remain "Number Two."
But perhaps it was time to have a taste of that bloodlust. Perhaps the best way to make the Iron Grenadiers stronger, was to make Cobra weaker…
11.
Sliding off of the hill's grass and onto the road's mud, Range-Viper-98 stepped onto the shattered carburetor of the G.I. Joe RA.M. motorcycle that lay in ruins before him. He wanted to smile, to enjoy his newest victory, but he was bothered by the fact that couldn't see the driver's body.
Did he get incinerated? No. Not likely. Range-Vipers only packed a wimpy little missile that only carried enough power to break apart a motorcycle, and not much more.
Kicking apart the busted armor plates and ammo belts, RV-98 searched for any signs of a human being. When he walked to the road's edge and looked down the steep slope, he found some: a burned and broken Motor-Viper uniform laid in a pile about twenty feet down the hill.
RV-98 stepped back and un-locked his grenade-launcher. "All right. I know you're around here somewhere. I don't know how you survived that missile shot, but if you don't surrender to me right now, you ain't gonna survive another ten minutes."
Feeling a pebble hit him in the back on the head, the Range Viper turned to look down the road, and found himself looking at the most gruesome man he had ever seen; it didn't even phase him.
"I don't know if I did that to your face, Joe; but I'd be happy if I did." RV-98 dropped his grenade-launcher and pulled out his knife. "You must think you're gonna chop me ta pieces with one of them big scary swords. I ain't afraid o' no sword, Joe."
In a roaring-rage, RV-98 ran at the Joe, who dodged the Viper's stabbing attack by turning away; but the move sent pain stinging from his injured lower stomach, and he fell to his knees. The Range-Viper elbowed him in the back of the head and the Joe commando collapsed face-first onto the muddy road, bleeding from his torso.
"Damn that was sickeningly easy. I almost thought you were the big Joe tough-guy, Snake Eyes, but after a butt-kick like that…"
Scooping up the muddy, bloody, Joe, RV-98 began a slow march back towards the Cobra Incan Temple Outpost, not realizing the monumental mistake he had just made.