GI Joe: The Rise of Cobra

Chapter Thirty

Beneath the ghost town of Springfield, Kansas, there was a mazelike catacomb of tunnels, hallways, and hidden rooms. Most of the buildings on the surface connected to this underground complex through secret doors in their basements, and the combined area of the buried passages was almost as large as the area of the town itself.

Directly underneath the local school, where the Cobra agents had done most of their training, there was a line of connecting hallways that led to a large auditorium with a domed ceiling held up with tall pillars. The chamber was brightly lit with long rows of fluorescent lights, which currently shone down on a crowd of Cobra agents standing at attention. They wore blue uniforms with blue helmets and black facemasks across their mouths, leaving only their eyes visible.

At the front of the room, standing on a raised platform in front of a symbolic throne, Cobra Commander looked out across the sea of bodies. Behind him on the wall was a red Cobra emblem ten feet high, an artistic rendering of a striking snake with a cobra hood. Cobra Commander stood underneath it, as if bathing in its light.

“Today is the day,” he announced in his deep, raspy voice. “Today is the day that we make our existence known to the world.”

The people assembled in the room looked up expectantly at Cobra Commander, loyalty and adoration visible in their eyes. They remained silent, taking in his every word, their arms relaxed at their sides.

“Even as I speak to you right now,” he intoned, “there are members of the FBI and even the US Army entering our special little town. They are not here to negotiate with us, they are here to shut us down. They have come here to silence us. They have come to our home to take from us everything that we have built here.”

Cobra Commander walked along the edge of the platform, raising one hand and squeezing it into a tight fist. The room was so silent, that the sound of the fabric of his gloves stretching could almost be heard. The bright lights reflected off his silver faceplate, making his face appear blank white. The dark blue cape hanging from his shoulders swished noiselessly across the surface of the floor.

“We have come here to create a new world. To create a better world, free of the crime and corruption and decay that infests the rest of the globe. Our dream is a simple one, and like you, I would give anything to make that dream a reality.”

He paused thoughtfully, and then his arm snapped out like a sword thrust, pointing into the crowd. “And they are trying to take it away from us!” he shrieked. “We are a threat to them, because we are free of their tyranny! We only want to be left alone, to have the chance to fulfill our dreams! And now they have come to stop us from achieving those dreams!”

He swept his arm across the room, his cape swirling behind him, and his followers watched his every move, completely transfixed.

“If we are to create a better world for ourselves, we must fight for our freedom! The government has come to destroy us, but they will not succeed! We must fight!”

The crowd shifted restlessly, almost twitching in anticipation. Some of them began to murmur to themselves, mimicking Cobra Commander's words.

“Some of you may not survive,” Cobra Commander said gravely, his voice full of sadness and regret. “But what is freedom, without noble sacrifice? And when the world sees how the tyrants have attempted to silence us, and how we have brought to light their corruption and their oppression, your brave sacrifices will shine like a beacon across the world, a symbol to all those who dream of a better future. Our fight will continue, and our dream will prevail, even if some of you will not be there to bask in its glory. Your memory, and your sacrifice, will live on forever.”

With raised hands, the followers shouted and cheered, their combined voices like a deafening roar in the enclosed chamber. Cobra Commander spread his arms and tilted his head back, feeling the energy of the crowd as it washed over him.

“Now go and fight!” he shouted. “Fight for the glory of Cobra!”

“COBRA!” the crowd cried out.

They surged back through the rear doors of the auditorium, pushing and shoving to be the first ones out the door. Beyond the room was a long corridor lined with weapon racks and shelves lined with ammunition and supplies. As the Cobra soldiers ran down the corridor, they grabbed AK-47s off the racks, and stuck extra magazines in their pockets.

Major Bludd stood at the end of the hallway, directing the troops down a series of adjacent hallways that led to different buildings on the surface. He wore a dark brown combat uniform with silver buttons and buckles, black leather boots, and a holster harness strapped across his chest, with two huge Desert Eagle pistols hanging at his sides. A sleek black helmet was on his head, and a USAS-12 automatic shotgun was propped up on his shoulder.

The Cobra troopers, armed and ready for combat, raced down the dim hallways to stairways that led to the buildings above, the echo of Cobra Commander's words ringing in their minds. Squad Captains and Officers met them when they reached the surface and directed them outside.

Like ants spilling from a disturbed anthill, the Cobra soldiers flooded out into the open, emerging from houses and businesses all around the center of town. They immediately took defensive positions around corners and behind parked cars and trucks, assault rifles steady in their hands, their eyes scanning the area.

Four long black helicopters, with gattling guns and rocket launchers hanging threateningly from side ports, emerged from the clouds and descended upon the town. Their black rotors chopped the air and gave off a buzzing noise like huge, aggressive hornets. Finally seeing with their own eyes the enemies that Cobra Commander has long warned them of, the Cobra troopers stared up in shock and raised their guns uncertainly.

Major Bludd barreled his way out of a nearby house and shouted at the soldiers. “Come on! Are you just going to stand there?” he barked, pointing up at the incoming helicopters.

Gunshots rang out, a few scattered shots at first, and then a steady blast of continuous gunfire into the sky. Two of the helicopters swerved away and then their own guns opened up with an ear-splitting roar, sending a wave of bullets down to the ground. Windows shattered in dazzling sprays of glass, chunks of wood and brick were blown apart, leaving gaping holes in walls and storefronts, and the unpaved road trembled with impacts, sprays of dirt shooting up into the air, leaving baseball-sized craters in the ground.

The Cobra soldiers scattered and regrouped as long black nylon ropes were dropped from the helicopters, and armored soldiers began to rappel down, assault rifles slung over their brown shoulders. They hit the ground and immediately spread out, opening fire with their weapons, advancing on the Cobra troops. The guns boomed like cannons, sending more broken glass and rubble raining down on the defensive Cobra soldiers as they hunkered down behind cars and low walls.

Major Bludd rushed forward and opened fire with his USAS-12 shotgun. The heavy piece of military weaponry unloaded with blasts of buckshot in rapid succession, as the gun was fully automatic. Bludd knelt down behind a blue pickup truck with the tires already blown out, and leaned out to open fire.

“Destro, you sneaky little bugger,” Bludd muttered to himself, recognizing the Grenadiers, Destro's personal army. “Should've known you'd pull a double-cross like this.”

When one of the Grenadiers emerged from around the side of a building, Bludd opened fire. The Grenadier reeled backwards as the first blast struck him square in the chest, the second one knocking him clean off his feet, tearing off a gaping chuck of his body armor.

Watching the first invader go down was like a catalyst for the Cobra soldiers. They surged forward and opened fire on the Grenadiers and the helicopters, which were laying down more lines of heavy gunfire.

From behind Major Bludd came more Cobra troops, some of them the specialty troops that Cobra Commander had insisted upon. In particular, two of them were anti-aircraft troopers armed with rocket launchers. One of them hunched down in the middle of the street and fired off his rocket, which shot into the sky with a scream of smoke.

The attack helicopter in front swerved to the side as the rocket streaked past it, soaring high into the sky and missing its target. The other helicopters immediately took evasive action, anticipating more rockets. They lowered their altitude until they were barely above the tops of the nearby buildings, their guns still opening fire.

More Grenadiers rappelled down from the other copters to join their teammates. And along with the heavily-armored Grenadiers, another figure slid down a rope as well. The Baroness, having discarded her long black trenchcoat, rappelled down to the ground, her long brown hair whipping and waving across her face.

She hit the ground in a solid crouch and unhooked the rappel line, drawing her Uzi in one hand and pointing at the Grenadiers with the other while shouting orders. Her form-fitting black body armor gleamed in the afternoon sunlight, and the reflective sunglasses on her face showing her surroundings. All around her, plants waved violently back and forth and dust swirled around from the buffeting wind from the copter rotors, but the Baroness barely seemed to notice it. She stood up and marched straight out into the open as bullets zipped through the air around her.

She raised the Uzi and casually opened fire, a bright orange muzzle flash erupting from the barrel. Cobra soldiers crouching along the side of a nearby row of small offices had to run for cover. The Grenadiers rushed forward, advancing down the main street, facing off against the Cobra soldiers, who outnumbered them by at least three-to-one.

Bullets filled the air as both sides fired back and forth. Buildings up and down the street were riddled with bullets, their windows shot out, and vehicles parked along the street were blown to pieces by the constant gunfire. The entire street was pockmarked with tiny craters from the helicopter guns.

Major Bludd peeked over the top of the pickup truck, watching the Baroness as she led her forces toward him.

“Hey, darling! I knew someday you would come crawling back to me!” he shouted mockingly, jumping up to open fire.

The Baroness took cover around the side of a building as the shotgun tore chucks out of the corner. The Grenadiers returned fire, but Bludd ran across the street and dove into an empty gas station. He laughed as bullets blew out the windows and covered him in glass.

Across the street, the Baroness shouted more orders to the Grenadiers, the constant barrage of gunfire almost drowning out her voice. “They are nothing but amateurs!” she snapped. “You've faced worse than this a hundred times! Our target is the school at the end of the street! Now let's move!”

She leaned out and opened fire with her Uzi to provide covering fire as the Grenadiers advanced once more. The Cobra troops, although more numerous, were still not fully trained with their weapons, and many of them were unable to hit what they aimed at. Many more of them retreated as soon as they were fired upon, and were too scared to counter-attack.

The Baroness glanced back down the main street, in the direction they had come, where the buildings were more scattered. In the distance, coming down the main highway into town, she could see two gray vehicles driving toward the town at a high rate of speed.

She touched her ear to activate her microphone. “Destro,” she said, shouting over the sound of gunfire. “It looks like they got here faster than we thought. What do you want us to do about them?”

When the answer came, she nodded to herself and ran across an open parking lot to where more of the Grenadiers were taking shots at a team of Cobra soldiers.

“Government forces are about to arrive,” she shouted. “They are not here for us, they're here for Cobra. Do not engage them! Continue on our mission!”

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