GI Joe: The Rise of Cobra

Chapter Nine

Hawk leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. “Well,” he said. “That’s the information we have. I wanted you to see it first and give me your expert opinion.” He was still seated with Gung-Ho and Shipwreck in the command center area of the Pit, and had just shown them all their information on Cobra, based on the reports written by Duke.

Gung-Ho put the folder down on the table and shook his head slightly. “I don’t like it at all. Sounds like it could be some kind of religious cult, but this political stuff is out of my league.”

“This is pretty deep,” Shipwreck agreed. He leaned forward, his elbows on the desk, and arranged the sheets of paper in front of him. He rubbed his chin and pointed at the security photos from one of Cobra’s bank robberies. “Check out the guns they got here.”

Gung-Ho slid the picture over and shook his head again. “Yeah, I see that. They aren’t playing around, are they? Where the heck did they get MP5s?”

“I think the real question,” Hawk said. “Is where did all the money go? They stole somewhere around six million dollars in all those robberies. If they’re buying MP5s, who knows what else they have?”

“Jesus,” Gung-Ho said. “We could have another Waco on our hands. The FBI has investigated all this, right?”

“Yes, and they’ve come up empty.”

“We should start with the guns,” Shipwreck advised. “Check the black market, find out who deals them.”

“And get more information on this guy,” Gung-Ho said, pointing at the dossier of Sebastian Bludd. “We need his contacts, his friends, anyone he works with.”

Hawk nodded. “We’re working on that as we speak.”

“This lobbyist they killed worries me too,” Shipwreck said. “Was he actually working for them? What kind of influence did he have, and what politicians did he work with?”

“His main contact was a Senator from New York,” Hawk said. “But we don’t really know exactly what deals he worked on.”

“Okay,” Shipwreck said. “Let’s say they spent all their money on weapons. Sounds pretty logical to me. Then they get this lobbyist to push their agenda, but he screws up or maybe he rips them off. I can understand that. But what I don’t get are these kidnappings. That doesn’t fit with anything else.”

“Why kidnap a scientist?” Gung-Ho asked. “And then not ask for a ransom?”

“They all worked in the same general field,” Hawk said. “They were all psychologists who specialized in mind-altering treatments.”

“Who else works in that field?” Shipwreck asked. “Maybe we should warn them.”

“I can get a list of other psychologists doing similar work,” Hawk said, writing it down in a notebook in front of him.

“Something else we might want to think about,” Shipwreck added. “If they had one lobbyist in Washington, they might have more. I mean, they obviously have some kind of political goal. They might have other lobbyists, or even someone else in politics.”

“That’s a good point,” Hawk said.

As the three of them discussed the information in Duke’s reports and came up with a plan of action for tracking down Cobra, Heavy Duty and Short Fuse were inspecting their gear in the armory. Clutch was in the armory as well, seated atop a work table with the MPAV manual in his lap. He scratched at his unshaven chin and turned the page.

Heavy Duty leaned against another table and smiled at the arsenal he now had at his disposal. His primary weapon of choice was a plain M240 machine gun, but he liked some of the new designs the military had come up with in recent years, such as the XM312. Although he had a feeling that he would become quite attached to the XM250C Minigun that he had looked at earlier.

“Look at this thing,” Short Fuse said, picking up a rocket launcher.

“Looks like a Javelin,” Heavy Duty said, walking over to him. The rocket launcher in Short Fuse’s arms was a long green tube like a standard rocket launcher, but it had a control console built into it, with a viewfinder and small view screen that the user looked through.

Short Fuse set the launcher on a table. “This is the Jav2,” he explained. “Same basic interface as the Javelin. Reads the heat signature of the target. Fire it and forget about it. But it’s twenty pounds lighter and the rockets cost half as much. Plus the targeting system is even more precise. You can aim this thing at a bird and it’ll lock on target.”

“Don’t you need special training just to use it?”

“For the Javelin, you do. But the Jav2 will be standard equipment in a couple years.”

Heavy Duty put his hands on his hips and shook his head in wonder. “I can’t believe we get to play with toys like this, man.”

“Tell me about it,” Short Fuse said. “When I saw Hauser, I figured I made a mistake. But this might turn out okay after all.”

“You’re talking about the blonde guy, right? Duke? I wanted to ask you what you meant earlier, when you asked him if he chose your code name. You know him, huh?”

Short Fuse nodded. “He was the Staff Sergeant of my squad when I was stationed in North Carolina a couple years ago. I never liked him all that much.”

“Why not? He ain’t a nice guy?”

“It isn’t that. He’s just a fake. He’s a yes man, always on the look out for a new promotion or some way to butter up his superiors. I swear I wanted to knock that cocky smile right off his face a few times.”

Heavy Duty chuckled deeply. “I know what you mean, man. Is that why you asked about the code name?”

“Well, the other guys in the squad used to call me Snap. Cause they said that it only took one little thing to make me snap. I guess I got a reputation for having a short temper.” At that, he laughed a bit and shrugged innocently. “I can’t imagine why. I thought Hauser gave me the code name because of that.”

“You’ll have to ask the boss about it.”

“No, I’ll just let it slide for now. I’ll put up with the silly nickname if I get to work with brand new weapons like this.”

“You got that right,” Heavy Duty said. And then, he looked up at Clutch. “What about you, man? What kind of vehicle they got for you?”

Clutch grinned and held up the huge instruction manual. “They have a couple of MPAVs in the garage back there. Those things are sweet,” he said. “I’m just checking out the specs right now. It’s like they took a Hummer and a Lexus and just mashed them together. It’s the first attack luxury vehicle.”

Heavy Duty laughed. “Gonna take it for a spin later?”

“You bet,” Clutch said with a smirk. “Maybe I’ll ask that cute redhead to go for a ride with me.”

“Careful man, she knows karate,” Short Fuse said.

Meanwhile, down in the next level of the Pit, Scarlett and Stalker were walking down the wide corridor, heading toward the training area. They passed by the bunks and personal quarters, as well as more computer stations and conference areas.

“This place is really amazing,” Scarlett said.

“Well, hopefully, this is just the beginning,” Stalker said. “If this task force is successful, we’ll have access to even more advanced equipment, and be able to recruit more members. The Pentagon has some serious long-term plans for this team.”

“I’m happy to be a part of it.”

They continued down the corridor and stopped at the training area. To the right of the hallway was a huge area with racks of machine guns on the wall, and a large shooting gallery, currently dark and unused. There were also computer simulator consoles and more training equipment. To the left, Scarlett could see a large, brightly-lit square room with weight benches and treadmills and other exercise equipment on one side, as well as punching bags and practice dummies. Stalker led her forward and merely pointed into the middle of the large room, where there was a large blue practice mat.

Snake Eyes stood in the middle of the mat, arms at his sides. He had taken off his belt with the holsters and pistols, but was still dressed in all black, complete with face mask and goggles. He did not seem to notice anyone watching him.

Scarlett watched as Snake Eyes brought his arm up to grab the handle of the katana sword strapped to his back, and pulled it free of its sheath in one fluid movement. He lunged forward and swung the blade in a low arc, slicing through the air just inches above the mat. He then spun around, swinging the sword back up, jabbing forward, then turning to the side and slicing straight down. The blade whistled through the air, but Snake Eyes himself was completely silent. His movements were fast, graceful, and incredibly lethal.

He swung the blade in a straight sideways arc and then used his momentum to spin around and leap into the air, executing a perfect roundhouse kick in midair before landing on the mat and stabbing the sword at his invisible opponent. The blade became a blur as he slashed to the left and right, and then swung his leg up in a high kick, finishing the move with another swing of the blade straight down. Even with all the force he put into the strike, he was in complete control, and the tip of the blade stopped an inch above the mat without touching it.

It was a practiced series of movements, but with Snake Eyes, it was more like a dance. He moved quickly and effortlessly, his blade cutting through the air, his body in continuous motion, without a single awkward or uncertain movement. It was like watching a performance artist telling a story without using words.

“It’s called a kata,” Stalker said quietly. “But I guess you already know that.”

“Yes,” Scarlett replied, watching in amazement. “But sword kata are totally different from other martial arts. I’ve never seen someone mix the two.”

Snake Eyes lashed out with the blade before turning sideways and kicking out with his leg in a swing kick. He continued to turn in a circle, slashing with the blade through the empty air, and then jumping up into another roundhouse. He landed on the mat in a crouch, down on one knee, holding the sword straight out at his side.

“Alright, Snake” Stalker said. “You can stop pretending that you don’t know we’re here. I know you heard us coming.”

Snake Eyes stood up and returned his sword to the sheath at his back. He was breathing heavy, his chest rising and falling rapidly, but he said nothing. He nodded at Stalker and stepped forward.

“I wanted to personally introduce the two of you,” Stalker explained. “Because you’ll be working together for the most part. You’re both covert operatives and skilled martial artists, and I hope that you can work together well as a pair.”

“Well, it’s a pleasure to be working with you,” Scarlett said, sticking out her hand.

Snake Eyes nodded and shook her hand firmly.

“You are perfectly qualified to be on this team, Scarlett,” Stalker said. “But you also have one special skill that many of the other applicants did not, which is one of the reasons you were selected. You can speak sign language.”

Snake Eyes motioned with his hands. “I’m happy to be working with you as well,” he signalled.

Stalker smiled at the surprised expression on Scarlett’s face. “Snake Eyes was wounded in battle several years ago,” he explained. “and his vocal chords are very weak. He is able to speak if he has to, but for the most part, Snake doesn’t talk at all. He uses sign language when he has something important to say.”

“Okay,” Scarlett said understandingly. “Duke said that your real name and your appearance are classified. So you don’t ever remove your mask, do you?” she asked.

Snake Eyes shook his head. “No, I’m sorry. I’m not very good looking anyway,” he signalled.

Scarlett laughed softly. “Okay, if you say so.”

But she couldn’t help but wonder what Snake Eyes looked like under the mask. He was in supreme physical condition, athletic and muscular, clearly a gifted martial artist, and had a very intense physical presence about him. Scarlett respected that, and his quiet nature made him even more interesting. Snake Eyes was a perfect example of the strong, silent type.

She found that she couldn’t wait to work more personally with him.

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