GI Joe: The Rise of Cobra

Chapter Twenty-Eight

"Yes, I see. Of course. Well, I appreciate the fact that you're being so forthcoming."

Destro leaned back in his seat, pursing his lips as he held the cell phone to his ear. With his other hand, he absentmindedly picked at the arm of his office chair. He listened for a few moments and then leaned forward again.

"I'll keep it in mind," he said curtly. "But I'm making no promises. You're giving me this information free of charge."

He paused, and then, "You'll hear from me. Yes, goodbye."

He ended the phone call and set the cell phone on his desk. Looking down at the phone with a scowl of disapproval, he sat back and looked out the window. His gaze travelled across the office, to the glass antique case to his right. Detailed with golden trim along the edges of the dark brown mahogany wood, the case contained several priceless family artifacts.

Sitting inside the case, on a red velvet pedestal, was a somewhat battered metal mask with two tiny eye holes, a corroded metal band across the front of it. If he looked closely, Destro could have seen tiny strands of human hair still stuck through the seams.

"Damn it," he muttered, grabbing the phone back off the desk.

With an angry huff, he got up and walked over to the wall beside the antique case and pressed a section of wall. It slid back and then to the side, revealing a hidden hallway beyond. Destro entered the corridor and approached another tall glass case, where other items awaited him.

His mask was not battered and damaged like the other one. It gleamed brightly in the light of the corridor, beckoning to him. Beside it was a thick black trenchcoat, as well as rows of weapons hanging on plastic frames.

Destro took out the mask and held it in his hands. Not just a simple method of concealing his identity, the mask meant more to him than that. It was a tradition, a birthright. He set the mask inside a black leather case and donned the trenchcoat, concealing several small automatic weapons inside its deep pockets.

He pulled out the phone and dialed. The voice of the Baroness spoke to him after a single ring.

"Yes, James?"

Picking up the case containing his mask, he continued down the corridor to an elevator at the end.

"Zartan just called me," he said. "He gave me Cobra's current location. They are no longer in New York, they've retreated to a small town in Kansas."

"What do you want to do?"

"We must get there before the military does. I am concerned that Cobra Commander may give them information about me if he is captured."

"Is that all, James?"

Destro hit the down button with the back of his hand. "I trust neither Cobra nor the American military," he said in a low voice. "I think it would be in all of our bests interests if certain information did not survive the attack. I think you know what I am talking about."

"Of course I do."

"I am coming down now. Assemble the Grenadiers."

"Yes, James."

Destro slid the phone into his pocket and stepped out as soon as the doors opened. He was in an underground basement, and a handful of soldiers met him at the entrance to the hangar. They wore black and red body armor, complete with facemasks to hide their faces. Like all of Destro's personal guard, they were highly trained military commandos armed with the most advanced weaponry openly available. However, they were not the highest ranks of Destro's army, merely the largest.

Baroness met him at the hangar. She stood in the middle of a crowd of soldiers standing in rows, looking at him with a barely contained smile on her face. She wore tall boots and black leather pants, with large holsters at her thighs. Underneath her long black leather trenchcoat, she wore black body armor with silver clasps. As Destro approached, Baroness slid a pair of reflective glasses on her face. In her other hand was an Uzi submachine gun.

The Grenadiers were Destro's most elite troops, the strongest and most loyal of his large army of trained soldiers. They stood protectively around the Baroness, their metallic black and red armor glinting in the light of the underground hangar. They had bulky leg armor with large black boots, thick and ornate torso body armor with bright red shoulder pads and a red stripe from their right shoulder to their left hip. Their helmets were black with a red mouthpiece, their eyes concealed with shining black visors, and the edges of their helmet and shoulder pads were also lined with gold trim. In their arms were long black assault rifles known as Falconets, named after the miniature cannons built and sold by Destro's ancestors during the English Civil War.

"Are you ready?" Destro asked.

The Baroness nodded. "Ready and waiting for your orders."

"There is no time to lose," Destro said. "Men, get loaded on the helicopters."

The Grenadiers saluted him sharply and quickly boarded the four black customized Russian Mi-24 attack helicopters parked in the hangar. Immediately, the ceiling opened up above them, letting midday sunlight shine down upon them. A section of ceiling 150 feet long retracted back across the open field just outside the main building of the M.A.R.S. facility to reveal the helicopters hidden below.

Destro got into one of the helicopters and extended his hand. The Baroness smiled and took it, and he pulled her aboard. Four Grenadiers got in with them, and quickly closed the sliding door and buckled themselves in.

"Set course for Springfield, Kansas," Destro announced over the interior intercom. "Use the navigation records to find it."

"Yes, Lord Destro," the pilot replied.

"How did Zartan get this information?" the Baroness asked.

"He wouldn't tell me. He probably dressed up like a CIA agent and waltzed right into a top secret meeting at Langley."

"I guess he has his uses after all."

"I'm surprised to hear you say that," Destro commented.

The four copters rose into the air and soared across the M.A.R.S. compound, bearing south. They were nearly invisible to radar and their rotors were engineered to run as silently as possible, and Destro was confident that even a satellite scan of the area would not reveal their departure. Their existence was a closely-guarded secret, although M.A.R.S. possessed even more advanced aircraft at Destro's family estate in Scotland.

"What are we going to to do when we arrive?" the Baroness asked.

"Find that serum they've concocted and destroy it."

The Baroness smiled again and put her hand on Destro's arm. "I'm glad we're doing this, James. Despite the risks."

Destro nodded to himself and gazed out the small, circular side window. The risks they were taking were great indeed. He was certain that they would arrive in Springfield before the military, but Zartan had made it clear that the military was on its way at that moment. They might only have hours, or less, before the military arrived as well. And once that happened, all bets were off. Destro was not entirely sure that he wanted to order his men to attack American soldiers, for a number of reasons. And once the military arrived, the chance of Destro and his Grenadiers being able to escape without capture became much more difficult as well.

The Baroness gently took the silver mask out of its leather case and placed it over Destro's head. Now, he was ready to go to war.

<--Previous Chapter|Next Chapter-->