Chapter 15

This time, I wake up brutally, following another injection obviously meant to do just that. I'm pushed back against the wall by Snake Eyes, who only releases me once he's sure I've noticed he has his gun right against my head.

I'm in an interrogation room, tied up and sitting in a chair surrounded by about 20 Joes, including Snake Eyes. A General is sitting on the other side of the mandatory table, glaring at me. Standing slightly behind him is a female officer who by all right should be on a runway rather than in a stark interrogation room. What is it with G.I. Joe and gorgeous girls?

"You are in Alcatraz," the General says, bringing my attention back to him. "Unless you cooperate, you could be here for the remainder of your natural life."

Snake Eyes sighs softly and I'm willing to bet he's rolling his eyes. I hold back a snort.

The General continues. "I'm General Hawk. Right now, I'm your best friend."

"I can't tell you anything about Cobra that might help you defeat them yet," I state, trying to cut things short.

"Yet?"

"I need the Commander around for about two more years."

"The Commander won't do you any good while you're in here. You do realize he won't rescue you, don't you? It's not his style, and he probably thinks you're dead," Hawk says.

"I don't need him to, I can rescue myself," I say.

This goes on for a while. He tries every trick in the book to convince me to talk; I just keep turning him down. I debate ignoring his questions and trying to talk to Snake Eyes, but decide against it. There's nothing I can tell him that could possibly make him change his mind about me at this point: he won't believe I'm innocent of my uncle's murder and I can hardly claim to be innocent of everything else I've done since.

Eventually, Hawk orders me away. Snake Eyes and the other 19 soldiers escort me into a cell. One of the soldiers sneers at me and teases me about trying to escape, then they all leave safe for one guard who stays just outside my cell, a step away to the left of the door.

I flop on the bed, expecting my weight to flatten the thin foam mattress and to hit the slate of metal under it. I sit right back up and stare at the mattress in disbelief.

It's a spring mattress. The idiots gave me a spring mattress, in a cell where the door has a glassless window blocked only by a few metal bars.

And here I expected getting out of here to be a challenge.

Not that I'm complaining: with the Baroness and the Major on the loose, the Commander is in danger – I don't know whether they've managed to snatch the blackmail money while escaping the Joes, but even if they did, they're treacherous enough to make trouble anyway. I'm guessing they'll be talking to Destro, and I'm afraid the three of them will elect to get rid of the Commander. I need to get back to him fast.

With such thoughts in mind, I was paying very close attention to my surroundings on the way here, and I have already located the way to the exit and a place to get a pipe to use as a snorkel: there's a laundry room just two doors from my cell. I smirk at the fact this will be the second time I get the supplies I need from the Joe's laundry room – between that and the fact my uniform is white, they're going to start thinking I'm laundry obsessed.

I lie back on the mattress and adopt a neutral expression, just in case my guard decides to glance in. I need to neutralize him, pick the lock, get my pipe, and swim underwater to the coast. Sharks could be a problem - I can't exactly fight them off without attracting attention, and without weapons, I'm not certain I could fight them off period. The other potential issue is the change of the guard – I don't know when that will happen, although I can be reasonably certain it won't be too soon, seeing the current guard only just started his turn.

So, I can avoid trouble with the change of the guard by acting fast. The sharks would also require speed – I'd need to out-swim them, and truth be told, I really don't think I can. Alternatively, I can hang on to a departing boat. I haven't heard anything leave the island yet, so there is a chance I can catch a ride if the Joes that brought me here leave by boat.

"You'd think that seeing it's all for national security, they would have let you level off a small spot of the island for a helipad," I call out to the guard conversationally, doing my best to sound like I know for a fact that they DON'T have a helipad. In fact, I'm just trying to figure out whether they do. "I mean, you've modified the actual building anyway."

He grumbles.

"The suits decided that we could commute by boat and that we didn't need to 'deface' the island. We had to make sure the building looked the same as before, too, and we had to leave about 50% to the tourists."

I smile, happy with the information. I start scratching the mattress next to my head with my nails and keep talking to cover the noise.

"So… living quarters must be pretty minimal? I bet nobody volunteers for a tour here, do they? How many prisoners are here?"

"You're just trying to make me talk about the place, aren't you?" he scoffs. "You're wasting your time. You're not getting away. Even if you managed to leave your cell – and you won't, don't kid yourself – I'm armed and I won't go close enough to the door for you to hit me. You wouldn't get past the doorframe. And even if you somehow did, what are you going to do? Swim?"

The mattress has given way easily, it's obviously ancient. I start playing with one of the springs, trying to work it free without it making a snapping sound.

"I hate swimming," I lie to keep the conversation going. "Besides, it's full of sharks, isn't it? It is in the movies." The spring comes loose. I stretch it out to flatten it, stuff it inside my shirt and dig my hand back in the hole to get another one.

"You bet. Get used to the idea, snake, you're here to stay."

"All the more reason to enjoy what company I can," I reply. "What about you? How long are YOU here for? And what did YOU do wrong?"

He huffs and doesn't answer.

"Just joking," I say in an exasperated tone. "I'm just trying to make conversation here. Aren't YOU bored? I mean, if we're both stuck here, what's wrong with killing time? Granted, you get to leave soon and I obviously don't, but in the meantime, wouldn't you rather chat than stand there doing nothing?"

"I'd rather spend the next two hours staring at the walls than entertaining you," he says stiffly.

Two hours shifts – I curse inwardly. I'd have to be lucky for the boat to just happen to leave in that interval. My second spring gets loose – at least this much is working well. I start bending it to work it into something resembling a small ball, ready to stuff it in my shirt with the other one if the guard moves towards the door to look in on me. I also sit up noiselessly with my back against the wall so that I can cover the hole without it looking like I picked an unnatural spot to sit on the bed.

"Aren't you a little ray of sunshine," I note. "Can't say I blame you – even if I wasn't in this cell, I wouldn't want to be here. This place is gross. Humid, old, stinky… I bet nobody stays any longer than they need to. The General must be long gone by now, unless he's going to try to interrogate me again."

I'm pretty sure he's not gone because I haven't heard any engine leaving. I'm just hoping he'll tell me when the General is leaving.

"He's going to let you stew for a while before he wastes anymore of his time on you," the soldier sneers.

"So he IS gone. Being the valuable prisoner that I am, I would have expected him to check on me before he left. Make sure I'm comfortable and all."

"You really are full of yourself, aren't you?"

I hold back a snort. His irritated tone makes it obvious that the General is indeed going to check on me – he'd only be amused at my presumption otherwise. I listen out for anybody coming this way and after a few minutes, I hear the General coming, along with that highly decorative female officer from the interrogation room.

The rusted old spring broke apart a couple of times under my twists, but there is still enough metal for my purpose, and I almost have it as compact as I need it. I stuff it in my shirt with the other one and do my best to look nonchalant.

In fact, I desperately need to figure out whether Hawk is indeed leaving right away. I estimate my current guard has about one hour and three quarters left to his shift, so I can't afford to be hanging around waiting for the boat to leave for too long, and between the sharks and the end of my pipe that will be poking out of the water, grabbing on to the boat underwater for any length of time without it moving is not an option. Missing the boat altogether is even more out of the question: it could be days before another one leaves the island.

The General stops in front of the door, staying a step away just like my guard. I look at him and try to look disgruntled. I actually feel like grinning – I can see the collar of an outdoor jacket, and it's so stuffy in here that he most definitely wouldn't wear that unless he was on his way out.

"Why the long face, Storm Shadow?" he asks me. "I thought you were quite certain that you wouldn't stay for long?"

I roll my eyes at him and refuse to answer. The General smirks and steps away from the door. He exchanges a few words with the guard, mostly confirming protocol, and leaves. I wait until he's rounded a couple of corners and get my bent spring back out. I hurriedly make it as compact as I can, and I get up. My guard hasn't moved.

I plant myself a step in front of the window, blocking the view past me inside the cell. I'm holding my lump of spring in my closed fist, ready to flick it with my thumb. I have no time to waste; the boat could be leaving any minute. Therefore, unless my guard follows my script just about perfectly, he'll have to die.

"Hey," I call out. "I owe you an apology."

"Knock yourself out," he says, not moving.

One strike, and I don't think I can afford to give him two.

"Americans," I sigh, blissfully disregarding the fact I'm half of one myself. "How rude can you be? I need to say it to your face."

He lets out an exasperated groan and steps in front of the door.

"There you are," I say, then suddenly look towards where the General went, although all I can see is the wall of my cell. I'm pretending I heard someone walk towards here. "Hey, is that the General coming back already? What did he do, forget something?"

If my guard turns, I can hit his sleeping point, just below and a bit back from his ear. If he doesn't, I'll have to aim for his throat and kill him.

He turns. "What are…"

I flick my lump of spring and he collapses. I already have my other spring out by the time he's done crumbling on the floor, and I shape it as a lock hook, slip it between two bars, and start working on the lock. It's about as old as the mattress, and the mechanism is basic. The Joes obviously didn't think I'd even get a chance to try to pick it. I smile at the thought Snake Eyes is going to have a fit when he finds out how I've escaped.

The lock clicks open almost right away. I open the door, pushing the guard's sleeping form with it because he fell right in front of it, get out, take the soldier's keys, leave him sprawled there and run to the laundry room.

I turn off the water and rip the cold water pipe out. Some water sprays, but thanks to the pressure being killed, it doesn't hit anything strongly enough to make much noise. Armed with my improvised snorkel, I run in the same direction Hawk left, keeping an ear out for anyone nearby.

I don't run into anyone. I make it outside without trouble, despite having to try four different keys before finding one that fits the lock on the exit door. It's sunset out, which suits me perfectly. I make my way to the dock slipping from shadow to shadow, without being seen. The boat is there, with the General leaning on the rail looking at the ocean. There is no ramp going from the dock to the boat, leading me to believe everyone is on board and the boat is about to leave. The engine starts then, confirming that I've just caught my ride.

I plunge in the water in the shadow of the very boat I'm stowing away under, and position myself under a section with no open deck to decrease the odds of the pipe being seen. I let my pipe stick out of the water as far as I dare and grab on, just in time for the boat to take off.

It's night time by the time we're at the coast, and I'm just about drowned, but alive and an escapee from Alkatraz. I swim away from the boat and hide under the elevated dock until the General and his entourage are gone. I come out then and start thinking about how I'm going to make it back to the East Coast.

I end up stealing some more normal looking clothes than my uniform, some money for food, and hitch-hiking with truckers.

I'm back in Springfield about 90 hours after leaving Alkatraz. I'm not sure how long the Commander has been on his own because I don't know how long it took the Joes to bring me from Switzerland to Alkatraz, but I do know he's been alone far too long. I'm terrified he's dead already.

The troopers staffing the marina aren't even surprised to see me, which suggests the Commander hasn't bothered to report me missing. I run straight for the Commander's Office, intent on heading for the Command Centre next if he's not there.

I'm reassured when I get close enough to his office to hear him through the sound proof walls. He's in there, talking quite happily to Zartan. He doesn't even sound particularly worried for his health and he's just told Zartan that peace had not even been as costly as he had feared. I take it to mean he's bought himself forgiveness from Bludd, the Baroness and Destro.

I lean on the wall next to his door, pretending to be politely waiting to be summoned in. In fact, I'm seizing the occasion to overhear him when he has no reason to suspect that I might. I might get lucky enough for him to let out a hint on who killed the Hard Master and framed me.

Zartan chuckles.

"Throwing the blame on others for murder is becoming a specialty of yours," he says, "but just the same, I'm rather glad I won't have to count on you to do it on my behalf after all."

"I think you will," the Commander replies, "but as I keep telling you, you have no cause for concern as long as you keep serving me well."

My heart is hammering. They are talking about the Commander covering for Zartan, and I'm not aware of the Commander covering for anybody else than my uncle's murderer. I force myself to calm down by rationally telling myself I'm almost never aware of what the Commander is really up to.

"You're very easy to displease, at least on a temporary basis," Zartan replies. "And besides, I still doubt you'll have the nerves in the end. You'd be too afraid he'd guess you're lying."

"He doesn't scare me at all," the Commander laughs. "My dear Zartan, you don't really think I'd feed you to our stormy ninja friend? At this point, I'd be much more likely to point him towards Bludd. Of course, if you ever betrayed me…"

It takes me a second to get over the shock and to start thinking again.

Zartan. It was Zartan. It's obvious in hindsight – he's a master of disguise and a very good archer, and he's among the worst cowards I've ever met. And the Commander, after I'd have served him ten years to the best of my ability, and gave up all but the slightest shred of honour in the process, was going to lie to me and blame whoever was out of favour at the time. I can't believe it, and at the same time, I can't believe I'm surprised.

Yet, as furious as I am, I'm grinning. This is the end, I'm free. I can kill both of them right now, leave and… well, I'm still not sure what I'll do afterward, but the point is, I'm free nearly two years ahead of schedule, and both myself and my uncle will be avenged in about 30 seconds – maybe 60 if I take my time with the Commander.

I have no weapons on me, and I wouldn't have it any other way: killing them both with my bare hands is as perfect as it gets. I take a few deep breaths to calm myself down somewhat and eliminate any chance of mistake, and I kick towards the door to slam it opened.

I don't know whether my foot even touches the door. My head seemingly explodes at the moment I kick, and I can't feel anything else than the pain. I've never felt anything like it, I can't even begin to try and ignore it. It's taken over completely, obliterating all my other senses – I'm not only feeling, but seeing, hearing, smelling and tasting pain.

I can't tell whether I'm screaming, I can't tell whether I've fallen. After what feels like a lifetime of nothing but this torture, my brain finally shuts itself down and I gratefully slip into unconsciousness.

Author's notes

This is probably the first time in this story where I actually get to surprise everyone AND to end on a cliffhanger. :D

I live for feedback, so to show my appreciation, I send bonuses to reviewers (unless they don't want me to or the reviews aren't signed – it's not that I mind unsigned reviews, but I can't reply to them). These bonuses can be anything from notes to deleted scenes to scenes that are outside Storm Shadow's POV.