GI Joe: The Rise of Cobra

Chapter Ten

Storm Shadow was alone. His ten-foot-by-ten-foot room was decorated with simple colored wall hangings and a soft floor mat made from straw. He kneeled barefoot, dressed only in loose fitting white pants tied with a red belt. His body was thin and muscular, his medium tan skin and jet black hair giving away his Japanese ancestry. His face was grim and serious, with strong cheekbones and a firm jaw. Traces of old scars could be seen trailing down his neck and across his bare chest. More faint scars crisscrossed his back and torso, and one large mangled scar decorated his right shoulder.

He got to his feet and walked to the small sink and wash basin in the room. He calmly, methodically washed his hands, and then splashed some cold water on his face. His hands gripped the edge of the sink and he leaned forward, taking deep breaths. Filling a small paper cup with water, he used it to rinse out his mouth and then spit into the sink.

Even with his eyes closed, he could sense the red light on the wall beginning to flash. He was needed. It was time to become the warrior again.

He quickly dressed in white shoes, white pants, and a white long-sleeved shirt. He pulled on white fingerless gloves and then donned a long white trenchcoat. Finally, he slipped on his white hood with the facemask across his nose and mouth. It was like a transformation, and the mask served a purpose. His dark eyes peered out, cold and merciless.

He slid wakizashi blades into identical sheaths sewn into the sides of his pants, which were hidden by the trenchcoat, and slid tanto blades into similar sheaths around his calves. He fastened a pair of belts around his chest that held on the two long sheaths at his back, which held katana swords with white handles and gold trim.

He left his small room and stalked the corridor, heading to the main conference room. His soft shoes made no sound on the metal floor, and the only noise was the soft swishing noise of his trenchcoat trailing behind him.

The guards in the hall did not meet his eyes, and simply opened doors for him when he approached. To them, he was a ghost in white, the silent protector of their leader, Cobra Commander.

Inside the conference room, Cobra Commander was waiting with the scientist known as Mindbender. The Commander was seated at the table, casually leaning back with one leg propped up on the other, his hands folded in his lap. He wore a black military uniform with silver trim, and with a large Cobra symbol on his chest. He wore a black helmet, and as always, his face was covered in a reflective silver faceplate.

“You’re late,” he said simply, not looking up.

Storm Shadow said nothing, taking his position behind the Commander, his hands at his sides, just barely touching the handles to his wakizashis.

Mindbender sat at the table as well, and paid him no mind, as usual. The scientist was so single-minded and focused on his work that he barely noticed anything else, Storm Shadow noted. His presence in the room was tolerated because of his expertise, but Storm Shadow did not care for him. He was a coward and a weakling in the ninja’s eyes. Thankfully, the mercenary known as Major Bludd had been sent away already, so he was not here for this meeting. Unlike the scientist, the mercenary was untrustworthy and dangerous, and Storm Shadow barely tolerated his presence.

The conference table had been set up with computer screens arranged in a semi-circle, all of them facing Cobra Commander. Another computer console was set up away from the table, and a Cobra computer technician was seated there, awaiting the Commander’s orders.

Cobra Commander casually pressed a button on the tabletop, and the computer screens, ten of them in all, flickered to life.

Faces appeared in six of the screens, while the others remained blank. The Commander studied the six faces, his own expression hidden behind his mask. But by his posture, Storm Shadow could tell that he was disappointed that only six of his associates decided to attend this video meeting. His own image was being recorded and played back for each of the associates, although they could not see the faces of the other men that the Commander was meeting with.

“Thank you for meeting me,” he said, his voice low. “I think you all know why I’ve asked you to see me today.”

Some of the men on the computer screens nodded slightly. All six of them were men, three of them Caucasian, two Middle-Eastern, and one Asian.

“Are there any questions before we proceed?”

One of the Caucasian men said, “What is the status of your project? I have not received the update you promised.”

“If you would be so kind,” the Commander said. “Please direct your attention to your second screen.” He pointed at the technician, who quickly activated a video upload.

All six of the men focused their attention off screen. Cobra Commander let them view the video uninterrupted for a few moments as it was downloaded to each of them individually.

“Our serum has completely affected eighty percent of our test subjects,” he said. “The other twenty percent are not fully affected yet, but we’re confident that in another day or two it will be for them as well. The few minor delays we’ve seen are mainly a result of our attempts to perfect the amounts used for each subject.”

“Have their been any casualties?” the Asian man asked.

“None,” Cobra Commander said. “And no regression of any kind. Once the serum takes hold, it just becomes a matter of time. But there is the possibility that a subject could become unreliable if the serum is not applied precisely. It is a rather exact science.”

“How unreliable?”

“The subjects could be rendered mentally unstable.”

“I did not think your serum would be that dangerous.”

“I have told you all several times that this project involved significant risk. The human mind is a very fragile thing. But as you can see in the video, if all precautions are taken and the serum is applied with care, the results are extraordinary.”

“Yes,” the Asian man said, nodding.

Cobra Commander swiveled his chair a little, his hands folded in his lap. “Are there any other questions, now that you have seen our progress?”

“How much of the serum do you have right now?” one of the Caucasian men asked.

Mindbender, out of range of the camera, held up four fingers.

“Enough for four shipments,” the Commander said. “Each shipment would include enough serum for roughly one hundred subjects.”

“You can increase production, correct?”

“Yes. Since our own experimentation is mostly complete, the majority of what we make can now be packaged for shipment.”

“How long will it take to produce ten more shipments?”

Mindbender thought for a moment, and then mouthed out the words, “One month.”

“Two months,” Cobra Commander said, and the man seemed satisfied. “Do you have any other questions? Do not hesitate to ask.”

There were none, so the Commander leaned forward and placed his elbows on the desk. “In that case, I think it is time for you to enter your final payment. You’ve already been given the account numbers, so please begin whenever you are ready.”

The technician opened up several windows on his screen and one after one, they all began to flash green, as the transfers were initiated. It took seconds for each one to complete, and the technician gave the Commander a thumbs-up when they were all done. In less than a minute, the Cobra organization was twenty million dollars richer.

“Thank you,” Cobra Commander said. “I will contact you again with an update next week at this time.”

The computer screens blipped out as the men disconnected. When they were all gone, the Commander shut all the monitors off and leaned back in his chair once more. “Transfer the money to our other accounts,” he ordered.

“Why did you tell them two months?” Mindbender asked. “It should not take longer than a month to produce that much serum.”

Cobra Commander did not look at him, he stayed focused on the blank screens. “I could have said six months and they would have agreed,” he said. “There is no need to rush production, I want you to continue working with the subjects.”

“You don’t need to worry,” Mindbender assured him. “Everything is working perfectly.”

“When Major Bludd has the subjects and begins their training, that’s when I’ll be satisfied that the serum works as you promised. Until then, you will continue to refine the process. Once all the subjects are handed over to Bludd, then you’ll get your money.”

Mindbender looked shocked. “I’ve told you I’m not in this for money,” he said, offended. “I am creating a whole new field of scientific knowledge. The money is nothing to me.”

“Of course not,” Cobra Commander said. “You just want the credit, don’t you?”

Mindbender stood up and straightened his white jacket. “Yes, because without me, there would be no serum. When you reveal your army to the world, it will be the vindication of my entire life’s work. No one will ever doubt my theories again.”

“Why don’t you get back to work?”

“Gladly,” Mindbender snapped, and left the conference room.

After Mindbender left, the Commander told the computer technician to leave as well, and soon he and Storm Shadow were alone in the room. He swiveled the chair around to face the ninja in white.

“It’s so hard to find real loyalty,” he said. “Major Bludd is only working for me because I pay him. The good doctor only works for me because I’m letting him perform the experiments that no one else will let him perform. And you, of course, keep your reasons to yourself.”

“I only do as I am told,” Storm Shadow said.

“So you do,” the Commander agreed. “But that’s all part of your training, isn’t it? You ninja have a very peculiar sense of honor.”

“You are confusing ninjas with the samurai,” Storm Shadow corrected him. “Ninjas do not have a code of honor.”

“Is that so? I guess that only proves my point.” Cobra Commander laughed to himself, his raspy voice echoing off the featureless metal walls. He got up and smoothed out the wrinkles on his black uniform, still chuckling softly at his private joke.

“Loyalty is the key,” he said when he had collected himself. He pointed at Storm Shadow, emphasizing the word. “It is so hard to find real loyalty in this world. Even the strongest bonds are broken on a whim.”

He walked out of the conference room and Storm Shadow followed. As they walked, Cobra Commander continued. “Once upon a time, warriors gave oaths of allegiance to their kings, and oaths like that were impossible to break. Those soldiers would live and die for that oath, even if the time came when they no longer agreed with their king. Even if they hated their leader, they would remain loyal. To break their vow, to betray those they had sworn loyalty to, was against their very nature. You don’t see that sort of selfless loyalty anymore.”

They entered one of the rooms where Mindbender’s test subjects lay unconscious on hospital beds, although these men had passed their initial phase and no longer required the headphones or other specific care. Forty men rested in four rows of beds.

Cobra Commander gestured to them. “Until now, of course. These men are my warriors and I’m their king.” He turned to look at Storm Shadow. “I made these men loyal. Now I can give others the ability to instill loyalty in their own soldiers. I’m just trying to retrieve what we’ve lost in the past five hundred years.”

Storm Shadow nodded politely, but kept his opinions to himself. He didn’t need Cobra Commander to lecture him on the value of loyalty. He knew all about loyalty and betrayal.

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