GI Joe/Marvel universe crossover.
I don't own Marvel or Hasbro.
Silence
Chapter 2: The Next Day
Time: 19:41; Wednesday
Location: Cobra Headquarters
Cool, calculating eyes studied the television monitors in front of him, each cued to a different news station. The man in question swirled expensive wine in its crystal wineglass before taking a sip. Another set of eyes, belonging to a white garbed ninja, pondered at how easily the wine resembled the color of blood.
Storm Shadow stood silently as he waited for a command from the man in the chair. A dark blue mask made of cloth covered the other man's face, save for the lips, which had been uncovered in order to savor the alcohol.
In all his years of service to Cobra, Cobra Commander had never revealed his face to Thomas Arashikage.
The Cobra leader slowly began to flip through the news programs, occasionally pausing on one if it caught his interest.
"Anti-mutant riots broke out today outside of the United Nations building in New York City. Thousands gathered to protest the upcoming G8 Summit in Tokyo, which will address the question of mutant rights as well as environmental concerns..."
Click.
"…visit troops in Afghanistan next week. Captain America will be among the…"
Click.
"…unknown precisely how many mutants have fled to Genosha. Magneto has warned world leaders…"
Click.
"This morning mutant terrorists attacked the home of Senator Veronica Neally, who is alleged to have ties to the Friends of Humanity…"
Storm Shadow watched silently, his serene appearance hiding an inner sea of turmoil. The former soldier tried to remember precisely why he was with Cobra in the first place. The past few years seemed to blur together and Tommy often felt that a strange fog was clouding his mind. Despite all attempts to clear it, however, it refused to dissipate.
He had originally joined Cobra to find his uncle's murderer. Then he had left…wait…why had he left? No, he had never left….he had always been here, serving Cobra Commander.
But that wasn't right.
Outwardly, the ninja appeared immobile; inwardly, he mentally shook his head in attempt to clear his thoughts. For months he had been trying to piece together the shattered pieces of his life, but Thomas Arashikage couldn't quite remember how they fit together.
He didn't even know what the image was supposed to be.
"Why does it matter? I serve Cobra Commander."
"But why?" he silently asked himself. This is where he always drew a blank. Storm Shadow served Cobra because he wanted to. Nothing else mattered. His own life belonged not to himself, but to the man in the chair. Whether he lived or died was a matter of fate.
Were he in a healthier state of mind, Tommy would have been greatly disturbed by his thoughts. As it was however, trying to find some semblance of internal peace was an increasingly elusive goal.
The ninja shook himself out of his thoughts as another individual entered the room.
"What is it Destro?" Cobra Commander hissed. The Scottish aristocrat stopped next to the occupied chair. As usual, the other man gave so sign of subservience to the Cobra leader.
"Major Bludd is in position."
"Good."
Silence returned to the room, save for another news report on the anti-mutant riots in New York. All three men watched it for several minutes.
"Fools. All of them," Cobra Commander muttered. Storm Shadow eyed him covertly, curious as to what he meant.
"I assume you're referring to the demonstrators?" Destro asked mildly. The man in the chair slowly drank the rest of his wine before replying.
"All of them. The anti-mutant protestors. The world's leaders. Magneto," Cobra Commander answered, waving his hand at the television screens. "One group wants to waste a valuable commodity, the second is incompetent, and Magneto foolishly believes that ridding the world of humans will make the world safer for mutants."
"You disagree, obviously," Destro stated.
"Destro, Destro, Destro," the Commander said smoothly, his voice sliding like oil. "Mutants are humans and humans are violent. Homo sapiens killed each other long before mutants came along. Homo sapiens superior will find a reason to kill each other if their lesser kindred are exterminated. Such is the nature of man. Magneto is a fool to believe otherwise."
There was a pause.
"Under my new order, any who would serve me is welcome."
Destro only looked at him silently. His metal face mask prevented Storm Shadow from studying his face, but he sensed that the Scot was unsurprised with the other man's answer.
"Many mutants are divided into two camps," Destro finally said. "They either follow the philosophy of Charles Xavier or that of Magneto's. The rest are hiding somewhere in the middle, too afraid to act."
"You know a lot about how mutants think," Cobra Commander mused.
"As do you," the Scotsman answered.
Silence again returned to the room. Thomas Arashikage pondered the most recent exchange of words. Before the two men continued, however, they seemed to remember that he was still present.
"Storm Shadow," Cobra Commander said. The ninja was immediately at his side. He waited patiently for his master's orders.
"I have an assignment for you."
Time: 19:41; Wednesday
Location: GI Joe PIT
General Clayton Abernathy sipped gingerly on a fresh cup of coffee. As he waited for the caffeine to kick in, his mind wandered back to the conversation with Beach Head from the previous night.
"I don't know what to do Sir," Beach Head said quietly. "I'm tired of hiding. But if people knew that I was a mutant…"
"I know that you're a mutant now, Son," Hawk answered back. "Does it look like I care?"
"With all due respect, General Hawk, you don't speak for the rest of the military."
Beach Head was right, of course. Just because he himself was open minded didn't mean that his superiors were. The Secretary of Defense was a noted anti-mutant.
Once Clayton had gotten over the initial shock of his Sergeant Major's announcement, he had immediately wondered why. What was it that had driven him to fight for a country that would rather he didn't exist?
Then again, why had African Americans once volunteered to fight for a country they'd had no civil rights in? Why had young men of Japanese descent once volunteered to fight for a country that had imprisoned their families in internment camps? These were questions that had long been in Hawk's mind. Had he been in their place, Clayton wasn't sure if his response would have been the same. He liked to think that it would have been.
The question that remained, however, was what to do about the army ranger. Hawk was unwilling to feed his subordinate to the bigoted vultures in Washington. However, he was equally reluctant to keep the man's secret from his fellow Joes. The men and women under Hawk's command had fought alongside each other for years. To keep something like this from them….they deserved better. If Beach Head wanted to prove that mutants could serve in the military, he wasn't going to accomplish it by staying silent.
It was the service of those same African-American and Japanese-American soldiers, as well as other minorities, that had helped pave the way towards civil rights and racial tolerance. The mutant community needed leaders like Wayne Sneeden.
"General Hawk?"
Hawk looked up to see Flint enter. He took another sip of coffee before turning in his chair to face the man.
"What is it?" he asked. Dashiell Faireborn held up a file.
"It's the report you wanted on the prototype body armor we received from Stark Enterprises."
With a sigh, Hawk took the folder and briefly flipped through its contents. Tony Stark had dismantled his weapons programs, but had agreed to continue contracting with the government on defensive equipment. Hawk supposed that was something at least. Much of GI Joe's tech had once been manufactured by Stark Industries, which was now Stark Enterprises. However, the company's owner had apparently developed a pacifistic outlook and refused to continue making weapons for the military.
General Hawk thought that was ironic, since the man put on a metal suit armed with weapons even more advanced than anything the U.S. military possessed.
"What about those Cobra Vipers we picked up in Sierra Leone?" he asked.
"They're being interrogated as we speak. However, two of them are more stubborn than the others. We haven't cracked them yet," Flint answered.
"Keep it at, we need to know who they were selling those weapons to," Hawk said. "Have Psyche-Out…" Clayton Abernathy trailed off at this. What they needed wasn't an interrogator, but a telepath.
"Sir?" Flint asked.
"Give me a moment, Son," Hawk ordered. The general stared at his coffee, deep in thought. He had been so concerned with Beach Head's secret that he hadn't yet considered the full implications of his powers.
New possibilities opened up in his mind.
"Continue with the interrogations," General Hawk finally ordered.
"Yes Sir. What was it you wanted me to have Pysche-Out do?"
"Tell him to keep me updated," the general answered. After a pause, he added. "And after Beach Head's done with the Greenshirts today, have him meet me in my office."
"Understood sir."
Flint left, leaving Hawk with his coffee, the new report, and a mind turning with ideas.
……………………………….
Time: 20:13; Wednesday
Location: GI Joe PIT; the Greenshirt Barracks
Beach Head patrolled the barracks and barked orders at the GI Joe recruits. All of the men and women training underneath him were the best that the United States military and government agencies had to offer him. Some were former special ops, others hailed from the FBI and CIA.
All of them had entered into his training believing that they were already at the top of their game and had no need of improvement.
It hadn't even taken him five minutes to prove them all wrong.
"Snuggles, I want that latrine spotless!" Wayne Sneeden barked. "Snuggles," otherwise known at Corporal Mari Raynor, bristled at her 'codename.' To her credit, however, she continued to scrub at the toilet.
Usually Wayne gave his Greenshirts numbers for codenames. However, during a brief drop in morale among his fellow Joes, Beach Head had decided to create his own morale booster.
And thus the "Name a Greenshirt" box was born.
Within twenty-four hours, the box had been full of suggestions.
It had originally consisted of a shoe box with a slit in the top for dropping pieces of paper in. However, Cover Girl and Jinx had decided to abduct the box and decorate it with a camouflage background and pink hearts. "Name a Greenshirt" had been scrawled on the side with gold, glittery paint.
"Dear God, doesn't he know the meaning of deodorant?"
Wayne continued to watch his recruits clean the barracks. Even though this wasn't the first time he'd heard thoughts like this, curiosity still compelled him to find the source of it.
"I mean, seriously…"
Beach Head smirked underneath his balaclava as he made his way over to "Bert," a disciplined sailor formerly of the Navy Seals. The Greenshirt in question mentally froze when he noticed his Sergeant Major making his way over to him.
"Status report," Wayne drawled. The former Navy Seal was busily cleaning a section of the floor with nothing but a raw potato.
"It's nearly clean Sir," the Greenshirt answered quickly. Too quickly. Beach Head leaned over to inspect the floor, making sure the man had full access to his "unique" smell. As he was close enough, Wayne entered the man's mind and made his own body odor appear to smell worse than it actually was.
Bert, the US Navy Seal, gagged.
Beach Head smirked.
"Keep at it…Bert," the drill leader drawled. The Greenshirt gritted his teeth, but was smart enough not to react to him. Good, he's learning.
Finished with intimidating the sailor, Beach Head returned to inspecting the other recruits. His lack of hygiene was a constant source of puzzlement among his colleagues and many theories had been passed back and forth.
One reason that Wayne would readily admit to was that he had never worn deodorant as a child or teenager. He had grown up in poverty and had often gone to bed hungry. His family's limited funds had gone towards food on the table and sending him to public school. Deodorant hadn't exactly been high on the list.
Another reason that Wayne had admitted to, at least to Gung Ho and Leatherneck, was that it served to intimidate others.
The largest reason, perhaps, for his lack of deodorant was the same reason he wore a balaclava. Wayne had taken into account that he might at some point develop physical mutations. In order to hide the fact that he was a mutant, he wore a mask to cover his face.
He didn't wear deodorant so that he could keep others away. If people were unwilling to be physically close to him, they were less likely to notice that he was a mutant.
In fact, Wayne went out of his way to make the smell worse. He ate liver, onions, and garlic several times a week, despite the fact that he detested liver. Sometimes, as he had done with the Greenshirt, he telepathically made the people nearest him believe the smell was worse than it actually was. It was a simple matter, really, as long as his target was in close range. It was far easier to alter people's perceptions of their senses than to control their thoughts.
As Beach Head continued his patrol of the Greenshirt barracks, he wondered what Hawk wanted to discuss with him. Flint had contacted him to tell him that Hawk wanted to see him when he was finished with the recruits. Wayne rather suspected it had something to do with the conversation from the previous night.
Beach Head suddenly noticed that one of the Greenshirts was openly glaring at him.
"Is this not enough work for you, 'Kermit'?" Beach Head barked. "Or are you too good for this?"
"I'm a U.S. Marine, Sir," the Greenshirt "Kermit" was brave enough to answer. "I've already passed basic training…"
Within two steps, Beach Head was face to face with the Marine. The man's face blanched, but he stood his ground.
"Guess what Girl Scout, this ain't basic training," the army ranger snarled. "Now drop and give me fifty."
The man immediately dropped down on his hands and feet.
…………………………………..
Time: 22:24; Wednesday
Location: GI Joe PIT
"Have you noticed anything different about Snake Eyes, Stalker?"
Stalker looked up from the map he was studying. He and his red haired companion were both preparing for a new mission. Intel had reported that Major Bludd had been sighted near the Chinese and North Korean border. They were set to leave at 06:00 the next morning.
"Like what?" he asked. Scarlett sighed.
"He seems…less depressed." No, that wasn't the right word. "I mean," she corrected, "it's as if some load has been lifted off of him. His mood has been lighter than usual."
Stalker rubbed his chin as he thought about it. He hadn't spoken with his friend much the last few days, as both men had been busy with work.
"Any idea why?" he finally asked. Lonzo Wilkinson trusted Shana's judgment on this, as out of all the Joes, the two of them knew Snake Eyes best.
"No," she sighed again. "I asked him, but he wouldn't tell me. I think he wanted to though…"
"Well, we're going to be together with him on this next mission," Stalker answered. He was curious, but not that concerned. Whatever had happened to lighten his friend's mood couldn't possibly be a bad thing.
"I wouldn't worry about it," he added.
"I suppose not," Scarlett said. Still, she was curious and a little hurt that her fiancée wouldn't tell her about it. She couldn't help but notice that he had gone with Beach Head on his morning 10 mile run, something he had never done before. The two men had been oddly sociable since the training exercise the other day.
"We should probably hit the sack," Stalker suggested. "We've got a long day ahead of us tomorrow."
Scarlett yawned in agreement.
………………….
Time: Unknown
Location: Somewhere over the Pacific Ocean
Storm Shadow studied the mission file in his hands. He was currently sitting cross-legged in a Cobra transport, disguised as a civilian Boeing 747 cargo freighter. Firefly was sitting across from him, studying the same mission file.
Both men were being sent to Japan, where the upcoming G8 Summit was to be held. Numerous government officials, as well as international experts, had been invited to speak on mutant rights, environmental controls, and the global threat of terrorism.
Each man had been given a different target to assassinate. Storm Shadow had been surprised that both people were pro-mutant supporters. He clearly remembered Cobra Commander referring to mutants as valuable commodities. Why the two individuals were being targeted was unknown to him. However, it wasn't his job to question his mission.
Storm Shadow's job was to obey.
Firefly was to target and kill a Scottish geneticist named Dr. Moira MacTaggert. He'd heard that she ran some mutant research center on Muir Island.
His target was Dr. Henry McCoy.
…………………..
Author's notes:
Well, I've decided to make this into an ongoing story. It's currently listed under the GI Joe section. I'm debating if I should move it to the crossover section, as I'm not sure how many readers actually go there. This chapter was a bit shorter than most chapters will be. As can be expected, I'm currently in the process of setting the story up to the real plot.
If any readers have military experience, I'd appreciate your input. I myself have none and would appreciate any advice on making the military aspects of this story as believable as possible.
As a side note, the Greenshirt "Snuggles" Mari Raynor is a bit of an homage to DC comics. Mari Jiwe McCabe is the superhero known as Vixen and Kyle Raynor is one of the Green Lanterns.