GI Joe: The Rise of Cobra

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Chapter Twenty-Nine

The pilot's voice came over the intercom. “Sir, we're approaching the drop zone. ETA, two minutes.”

“Copy that,” Duke said into his helmet microphone. Inside the C-17 Globemaster transport aircraft, the entire team was armed and ready for their arrival in Springfield. Both of their MPAV jeeps were strapped in and loaded for bear.

Snake Eyes and Scarlett were waiting at the rear of the plane. They had been waiting there for the entire duration of the two-hour trip from Andrews Air Force Base to the middle of Kansas. At over 515 miles an hour, the Globemaster aircraft made it a short trip, but the team was still anxious to arrive.

From across the cargo area of the plane, Duke spoke to Snake Eyes and Scarlett through the helmet mics. “You're good to go,” he said, giving them a thumbs up. “Your drop zone is about a mile from the north side of the town. We'll keep in constant contact with you. Good luck.”

They waved goodbye to the rest of the team and Snake Eyes hit a switch on the wall. The rear door opened with a whoosh and they jumped out without delay. Shipwreck closed the doors after them.

Duke walked to the cockpit of the plane and leaned inside. From out the front window, he saw clear blue sky. Unlike their previous night mission, Snake Eyes and Scarlett would not be able to parachute invisibly to their location. Anyone watching the sky would easily see them, but Duke did not anticipate that any Cobra agents would be watching the sky that far from the town, and even if they were, there was not much they could do anyway. Duke just hoped that if they were detected on the way down, Snake Eyes and Scarlett were still able to enter the town without being seen. But if anyone on the Joe team knew how to not be seen, it was Snake Eyes.

“We've already started our descent, right?” Duke asked.

“Yes, sir,” the pilot said. “We'll be landing in about twelve minutes. We have to circle around first because the landing strip runs east-west.”

“Okay, we'll be ready.”

The pilot looked up at him. “Can I ask a question, sir? I was not given your name or your rank, and I'm curious.”

“Sorry, Captain,” Duke said. “Our unit is classified.”

The pilot nodded to himself. “You know, this is the second time I've flown you guys someplace this week. I flew some of your men to New York a couple days ago.”

“You did a good job for us,” Duke said. “We appreciate the hard work.”

“If you're a classified unit, I'm surprised you don't have dedicated pilots and crew to fly your missions,” the pilot said. “You know, I'm looking to transfer pretty soon. If you need a pilot for your team, I'd love to apply.”

“Well, if this mission goes off without a hitch,” Duke said, “I'm sure the Pentagon will increase our budget. Right now we don't have the facilities for our own pilots or aircraft, but I'll certainly pass your name on to my Commanding Officer.”

“I'm Captain Brad Armbruster, but my friends call me Ace.”

Duke patted him on the shoulder. “I'll tell my CO to contact you,” he promised. “If the possibility opens up, your name will be first on the list.”

“Thanks a lot, sir,” Captain Armbruster said. “You better get settled back there, Sir. We'll be landing in just a few minutes.”

Duke returned to the cargo area of the plane and told the team that they were about to land. Gung-Ho and Shipwreck finished their checks on the weapons, while Heavy Duty climbed up into the gunner position in one of the MPAVs, his XM250C Minigun already attached to the metal frame buckled around his waist. He hefted the weight of the gun appreciatively, looked down at Duke, and nodded in satisfaction.

“Everything is good to go,” Gung-Ho said.

“Alright,” Duke said, “Everyone on board.”

They packed into both MPAVs. Clutch drove the first jeep, with Breaker in the passenger seat, running the computer, Short Fuze in the rear seat, and Heavy Duty up in the gunner position. Duke got into the driver's seat of the second MPAV, with Shipwreck seated beside him, and Gung-Ho up in the gunner position, buckling himself into place. And resting comfortably in the rear seat was General Hawk.

“I thought you were going to keep Stalker company back at the Pit,” Duke said as he got inside and put on his seat belt.

Hawk shrugged. Unlike the rest of the team, he was not wearing combat gear, and was dressed in his military uniform. “I didn't want to miss all the excitement,” he said with a smile. “Stalker will be fine. Doc Greer is looking after him.”

“You're gonna drive us again?” Shipwreck asked. “Are you gonna go twenty miles under the speed limit, like last time?”

Gung-Ho stuck his head down to speak to them. “Hey Shipwreck, you haven't been in a vehicle with Clutch yet. Trust me, I'd rather have Duke drive.”

Captain Armbruster's voice came over the intercom. “We're about to land. I'll open the rear doors as soon as we stop.”

“Thank you, Captain,” Duke said into his mic.

A few moments later, the plane touched down, and the team was rattled in their seats momentarily. The rear doors began to open as soon as the plane came to a complete stop.

“Breaker, you have our position on the GPS?” Duke asked.

“Yep,” Breaker replied. “I know exactly where we are.”

“Good. Hey Clutch, I'll be following you, so try to keep it under a hundred miles an hour, okay?”

“I'll do my best, sir,” Clutch said with a chuckle.

The moment the rear doors hit the ground, the locks that held the MPAVs in place loudly clicked off, and Clutch roared out of the back of the plane, Duke close behind him.

Their landing zone was at a small local airstrip in the middle of nowhere, about thirty miles from Springfield. Duke would have preferred to land closer to their target, but there was simply nowhere else that the Globemaster was able to land. Even this airstrip was not ideal, since it was not even paved, but the Globemaster was capable of rougher landings than commercial aircraft.

Dirt shot out from under their tires as they sped across the runway. Several FBI vans were at the entrance to the airfield, waiting for them. Duke spoke to the FBI agents through the helmet microphone, and they drove straight to the main road without even slowing down. The FBI quickly followed after them.

“How many agents are on site?” Duke asked.

“We have fifty agents just outside the town limits,” came the reply. “Everything is quiet, they haven't seen anything out of the ordinary.”

“That probably means that Cobra knows we're coming.”

“We've ordered our men not to enter the town until you arrive, sir.”

“Good idea. How are they armed?”

“All the agents are wearing body armor, and we have assault rifles and combat shotguns, sir. We are prepared for a firefight.”

“Let's hope it doesn't come to that,” Duke said, but he didn't think that Cobra was just going to let them waltz in and arrest them. Duke expected serious resistance, as they had prepared for, but he kept his worries to himself.

They zoomed down the long, straight road at about 80 miles an hour, as the asphalt road was too rough to go much faster. Breaker kept them informed of their position the entire time, using the GPS system to calculate their estimated time of arrival and current location. Behind them followed the line of black SUVs. No other cars were on the road.

“Duke,” Breaker said through the mic, “Snake Eyes and Scarlett are in position.”

“Patch me through.”

“Sure thing.”

“Scarlett, this is Duke. Where are you right now?”

Scarlett's voice was kind of scratchy over the radio. “We're just beyond a big field north of the target,” she replied in a low voice. “We can see buildings in the distance. But there doesn't seem to be anyone there.”

“Continue to the town and scout ahead. We'll be there in about ten minutes. You know what we're up against, so be careful.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Duke!” Breaker shouted suddenly. “We have company!”

“What are you talking about?”

“Combat helicopters, four of them! They just came out of nowhere, and they certainly aren't ours!”

“Where?” Duke snapped.

“Springfield! They just arrived at the town. We have reports of gunfire!”

“Are they shooting at the federal agents?”

“No,” Breaker said incredulously. “They're opening fire on the town!”

“What's our ETA?”

“Seven minutes.”

“Clutch, forget what I said about going slow,” Duke said. “Go as fast as you can!”

“Yes, sir!” Clutch shouted excitedly.

They shot down the country road as if propelled with jet engines, the FBI trucks left in the dust behind them. Duke had to slam his foot to the floor to keep up with Clutch, and the vehicle skidded around the asphalt surface of the road as if it was hydroplaning. But Duke kept it on the road, and within five minutes, they were approaching the town of Springfield.

The main highway into the town was a simple two-lane road with faded yellow lane markers, and tall trees on each side, the grass along the berm having not been mown in years. Up in the distance, they could make out buildings in the valley the town was built in, and Duke could see the helicopters hovering over the downtown area.

“Breaker, tell the FBI to keep their distance!” Duke ordered.

“Way ahead of you, sir. They're reporting that armed soldiers dropped from the helicopters, but they have not opened fire on them.”

“Get ready, everyone.”

The MPAVs roared down the road and into town, passing by more FBI vehicles parked just on the outskirts, the armed agents taking cover behind their SUVs. Duke slammed on the brakes and the MPAV screeched to a halt, rocking back and forth.

Duke turned to face the rear seat. “Hawk, I'm going to have to ask you to get out, sir. I don't feel safe taking you into the middle of this.”

“You're absolutely right,” Hawk said. “This is close enough for me.”

He opened the door and climbed out, but before walking over to the FBI agents, he poked his head back through the window and said, “Good luck, all of you. Be safe out there. We've had enough close calls already. I don't want to see anyone getting hurt.” He turned to look meaningfully at Duke. “Duke, you're in command now.”

“Yes, sir,” Duke said with a nod.

They took off after Clutch, who was now far ahead of them. Gung-Ho flipped the safety on the .50 caliber machine gun, and Shipwreck cradled an M4 Carbine in his lap. In moments, they drove right down toward the center of the town, with large, empty-looking warehouses on each side of the highway, and a desolate gas station sitting nearby. The MPAV skidded to a halt beside the other one, which was parked sideways across the road.

Heavy Duty was already out of the vehicle, swinging his Minigun in a wide arc. Short Fuse ran up beside him, a huge rocket-launcher system propped up on his shoulder, and an assault rifle slung over his other arm.

They could hear the booming echo of loud gunfire already, the huge black helicopters were only a couple hundred yards away, hovering up above nearby buildings. Duke jumped out, swinging up an HK416 assault rifle, and both Shipwreck and Gung-Ho came out after him. Clutch and Breaker were on the other side of their vehicle, armed with M-16s. Breaker was shouting into his microphone and glancing up at the helicopters, while Clutch kneeled down, aiming the gun across the hood. Duke and the others ran up beside them, surveying the area in front of them.

The road continued forward for a little ways before splitting off to the left and right. All around them, the town appeared abandoned, with waist-high grass in most of the yards, and the buildings looking old and run down. They were still on the edge of the town, and only a few scattered buildings were along the road. Most of the town's buildings and homes were ahead of them.

“Alright, Joes,” Duke said, “Let's do this.”

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