Chapter 9
The unkempt poacher continued to scour the area in and around where he suspected the underground base entrance to be located. So far, he had only discovered smaller ventilation shafts that could not possibly allow him safe passage inside. The G.I.Joe base truly was sealed up tighter than an Egyptian pharaoh’s tomb, but even those had their weaknesses. It was then that the distant sound of a vector engine caught his attention. Now the normal bystander may have missed it, but this trained hunter could hear the legs of a centipede running across a marble floor. He shooed away his brutish warthog and made for the cover of some nearby brush. Having completely concealed himself before the craft came into view, he peered out in the direction of the sound. He watched intently as the vector engines of the approaching Skyhawk suddenly rotated and the craft began to hover in a stationary position over a patch of the flat savanna. The ground beneath began to shift as a large retracting doorway opened providing a place for the VTOL to descend.
“Ahhhh, and there be the way in,” as a huge smile spread across the greasy poacher’s face. He started his approach having heard only one approaching aircraft. He knew he would have only one chance at infiltrating the base. He swung over the top of the entrance just as the large trap door began to close. Without taking too much time to assess his ingress, Gnawgahyde noticed a smaller ledge close to the ceiling. He tucked his chin and using the temporary edge provided by the closing door, redirected his body mid-air into a roll towards it. With little effort, he reached his mark. Once secured, he pulled out a large black towel from his rucksack, concealed himself and then lay perfectly still.
The Skyhawk used its vertical takeoff and landing abilities to continue its vertical descent to the base floor some fifty feet below the opening. Only one other Joe could be seen directing the craft onto the appropriate landing pad. It wasn’t Grand Slam’s normal assignment, but his red chest pads made him the likely candidate to guide the warrant officer, Flint, in for a safe landing. Upon landing, each officer saluted the other and without a single spoken word, the two headed towards the war room, completely unaware that an uninvited guest now lurked in their rafters.
From a slightly upturned corner of his cover, the poacher could see everything clearly. The underground complex was much more elaborate than he had anticipated and from a cursory glance, it appeared to descend for several levels. From his loft, Gnawgahyde could make out several maximum security doors, two larger ventilation shafts, and two guard stations. He started to ponder the means of his descent and once there, how he could possibly abscond with the cheetah cubs unseen. This would be a challenge for the hunter, but he had completed tougher missions. All he needed now was some intel and time. Luckily, patience was not something he lacked. If living off the land had taught him anything, it was that patience was a valuable ally to keep on his side. He decided to use the ledge and his blanket as a chance to nap and to recharge his internal batteries. He felt around on the dark wall for anything to attach his carabiner and harness to. The poacher was extremely tired, and he didn’t want to risk rolling off the ledge to his death. Sure enough, he found a secure spot. After clicking his locking carabiner in place to the wall and double-checking his belt and harness, he gave it a tight pull. Once satisfied that he was safe and secure, he closed his eyes and took a well-needed nap. Although, sleeping on the savanna had also taught him to always do it with one eye open.
Flint and Grand Slam continued down the hallway until they reached the elevator to the next level. Along the way, they passed and saluted several green-shirt security guards. Not everyone in the Pit was a higher ranking Joe specialist, and like any military facility, common security teams were needed. Of course not every military security detail had the advanced weapon technology that these Pit Officers had. Armed with state of the art firearms, comm-links, and lightweight Kevlar vests and helmets; these guards were fortified against their toughest enemies and would prove to be formidable opponents.
The news from the previously dispatched ground forces had been disheartening. After careful examination of the surrounding areas, they had found that the reaches of Cobra were more deeply entrenched than originally suspected.
“How did we miss this? Cobra has managed to not only set up shop at an established military outpost, but it’s clear from the number of ships coming and going along the eastern coastline, that they clearly have a presence somewhere else as well. This was a well-coordinated attack. Not a one-off. We need to find out where their main base of operation is located and attack the snake at its head!”
Grand Slam and the others could do little more than nod their agreement. Flint after his latest meeting with Beach Head and the others knew that he needed to call in some of the bigger guns. General Hawk was still back at the states, but Admiral Keel Haul was anchored somewhere along the western coastline. It would take several days for the U.S.S Flagg to reach this side of the continent. In addition, its deployment would definitely raise the suspicions of the other terrorist groups in the area and possibly raise the ire of countries questioning the loyalty and support of the United States. This matter needed to be handled with extreme discretion as to not incite an international incident. Diplomacy measures would need to be taken and top-secret military organization or not, G.I.Joe had to adhere to these rules. The earlier skirmish at the communications tower surprisingly hadn’t garnered any press coverage. The Kenyan government had made no report of it, which led the Joes to believe that Cobra’s coils were more tightly wrapped around the country than they thought.
Dial-Tone helped establish the comm. links to the United States. At an undisclosed location, General Hawk, Duke, and General Colton were standing by. Flint straightened up as the screen showed the “transmission initiated” symbol. Within thirty-five seconds, the screen lit up to reveal the Joe brass sitting around their war room. A stenographer and several other un-recognized military personnel were joining them. In a few moments, the “secure” symbol showed up at the left-hand corner of the screen.
“Generals.” Flint began with a salute. “Our intel has led us to believe that the threat known as Cobra is way more established in and around the African continent than originally believed. We currently have two operatives inside the captured Marine outpost. Three teams of specialists, Bravo, Echo and Vulture are positioned in and around the surrounding fauna.”
General Hawk and the others upon returning their salutes took on a pensive posture. Upon acknowledging Flint’s information they began to provide some of their own.
“Satellite imagery of the area has shown us a dark anomaly roughly five miles off the coast of Kenya. Originally this was thought to be a coral reef or sunken tanker but apparently, this is where the Cobra subs are congregating and dispatching from.” General Colton rattled off the first statistical analysis. “We have been tracking their underwater activities and have followed them as far east as Okinawa. This leads us to believe that their network runs deep into Asia as well, with possible ties as far south as Australia.”
Flint’s head began to spin even more as the information continued to roll in from his superiors.
“As much as we would like to get our boys home as quickly as possible, the chance of doing that efficiently and with minor casualties is becoming a much tougher assignment.” Duke shook his head disdainfully as the words left his mouth.
“We need to rescue those Marines! I made a promise to a certain PFC that we would prevail!” Flint had a sudden burst of emotion.
“At Ease Soldier! We are working on the best course of extraction and another outburst like that will have you treading close to insubordination!” General Hawk glared from across the monitor.
Flint immediately straightened up and briefly averted his eyes. Knowing he had clearly let his emotion cloud his actions, he took a deep breath before addressing the brass on the other end of the monitor.
“I do apologize Sirs. It has not been an easy two weeks. Being unable to free those soldiers in a timely manner has weighed heavily upon me.”
“We appreciate your enthusiasm Flint and know that we are working on a plan that will hopefully prevent an international incident. The U.S.S. Flagg and one of our destroyers are being redeployed into international waters along the eastern coast of Africa. Our hope is this will provide your ground forces with additional air strike capability and troops when the time arrives.”
Flint nodded in agreement. The room erupted in a loud “Yo Joe!” as all in attendance showed their patriotic support.
“In the meantime, I need your ground forces to set up strategic outposts near the compromised Marine base. Get your snipers to higher ground and wait for further orders.”
“Sir, yes sir!”
“What other information has Pathfinder been able to glean about the operations behind the enemy lines?” General Hawk and the others leaned in attentively. “Is the Commander on the premises? What other high ranking Cobra operatives are behind those walls?”
This information Flint had. He knew that the poacher, Gnawgahyde was in the area, but there was no indication that his superior Zartan was.
“According to reports from the inside, Croc Master and an unknown Cobra Doctor, possibly Venom or Mindbender, is operating from inside the Cobra compound. Firefly has been spotted boarding a sub seen on the shoreline, but there have been no confirmed sightings of the head snake. If he is on site, no one is talking about it.”
The Generals seemed pleased with his information, but it led them to believe that the whole operation might just be a smokescreen to divert their attention away from the enemy’s real plans. After his report, the Generals once again saluted Flint and the room before turning off the transmission. The warrant officer turned to regard the room. All the Joes present shared in his somber expression.
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