September 8th
You’ll never guess where I am right now.
I’m sitting in the back of a military cargo plane on the way to COBRA Island. It seems that Hawk has decided that the time is ripe for retaliation, and we are about to hit the enemy right smack in their own backyard.
I had known the general had something like this up his sleeve after COBRA raided our base, as the analysis work he had asked me to do all pointed in that direction. I just never thought I’d end up on the strike force. This is a pure combat mission and though my Int skills are always welcome, it’s my fighting abilities that are going to be put to the test.
I know I can do it. I have done it before…I know I can hold my own. There is only one slight, tiny, teeny little problem. It involves a night HALO jump. I’m jumping out of a plane… me…who used to stiffen in fright on the chairlift in Aspen! It’s a good thing I am over my fear of heights…
Ummmm…yeah…better not be leaning over to look out that window, Burnett…
Anyways, we are a small team consisting of Duke, Roadblock and Snake Eyes. Wild Bill and Ace are in the cockpit, and Stalker is the jumpmaster.
The equipment is heavy…mostly because of the oxygen tanks we are forced to carry due to the thin air at such high altitudes. The weapons and the heavily padded suits aren’t helping the situation.
Admittedly, I am a bit nervous but I will have collected myself by the time we reach the drop zone. You would think diving off a plane into the pitch black and cold of the night would be terrifying. It is. The thing is at first it isn’t so much scary as eerie, above the clouds with the moon’s ethereal, haunting glow lighting your way. It’s when you hit the cloud-line that everything goes black and frightening. You have only your altimeter to tell you where you are in relation to the ground. All you can do is hope your equipment works and that you will pull your ripcord in time.
Ok…I have got to stop thinking about it or I am going to psych myself out.
Other than the part about parachuting, I am glad Duke picked me for this one. I am just burning for a chance to get even with COBRA for raiding the PIT. Not that this is going to be a walk in the park. Far from it…our enemy is ruthless, merciless…
Cobra Commander, Storm Shadow (the brainwashed version), Major Bludd, Zartan and his Crew, Dr. Mindbender…the whole COBRA thing…it might sound like something out of a bad cartoon, but believe me these men are not to be trifled with. They are cunning, strong, well armed and fanatic about their cause.
Not a good combination.
After all these years of fighting them, of studying their every move, I have really become familiar with the enemy…and not only because we fought alongside some of them during the ill-fated COBRA civil war. As I told Flint so long ago, when you fight someone long enough you get to know them…
…And in some cases, you come to respect them.
You are probably thinking the person I am referring to is Zartan. We are both ‘covert ops’ in a weird, convoluted way. While I do admire his skill at disguise, I think the man is a hack…a glorified gang member with a knack for mimicry and a taste for cruelty
No…the one person in COBRA that I respect and in a way even admire, is Destro.
Ok…I don’t know how it got started, but there is still a rumor going around that I am related to the current Lord McCullen. I thought it was because we were both Scottish…how silly is that? Apparently, though, as are most rumors it is based partially on fact. I found out recently that one of my great-great-grandfather’s cousins twice removed was married to Destro’s great Uncle or something equally obscure and as hidden deep down in the Burnett family tree.
Anyhow, it’s not that…or the Scottish thing. Ok, the latter plays in a bit as I feel a kind of kinship to him. We both come from the same clan-type upbringing, both from the upper classes, both with a well-ingrained sense of propriety.
It’s more than that. I have a strong sense that Destro is, deep down, an honorable man. I think that he is a man of integrity, whose business dealings have forced his hand.
I don’t admit this to many people…only to Flint really. The other Joes would never understand such positive feelings towards an enemy who is bound and determined to destroy us. I think Flint has a hard time with it as well.
He and I have had many an argument about it. He sees the man as a money hungry arms dealer driven purely by greed, perfectly willing to push nobility aside for the mighty dollar. He is right of course…why else would Destro be in bed with COBRA? I argue that he might very well regret his decision to support the Commander.
He did try and get out after all…
I sometimes wonder if this is some weird convoluted form of Hostage Syndrome where you start seeing your enemy as your friend. I asked Psych Out about it once and he said that very well might be the case.
He went on to add that sometimes a good hearted person like myself who is forced to fight against a ruthless enemy, forced to see the atrocities committed in the name of world domination NEEDS to see some good in the enemy in order to keep a grip on their sanity. It’s very difficult to believe that somebody is pure evil…it really does a number on your life outlook.
He did, however, say that however much he thought there is some truth to the saying ‘honor among thieves’, I might be romanticizing the whole thing.
That’s probably true. Destro is quite striking despite the metal mask that covers his face. A voice like Sean Connery’s, a sharp mind and a body that is quite nice to look at, he is the kind of man that you expect to see playing the older lead in some Merchant Ivory film.
Too bad that vamp on his arm ruins the picture.
The Baroness is a bitch with a capital ‘B’.
I guess working with him that time in Scotland did a number on me. Flint and I had been sent to retrieve the plans to the Terrordrome, and before we knew it found ourselves breaking Destro out of jail and helping him to recapture his castle from an invading doppelganger.
After a successful prison break…planned and executed by yours truly I might add…I found myself sitting down to dinner with the arms dealer as we waited for Flint and the others to return from recon around the castle. Destro had to keep a low profile and I was assigned to keep an eye on him.
Well, he was pleasantly surprised when he found out I spoke fluent Gaelic and that I was from good Scottish noble stock. We began to chat and somehow I let down my defenses as the evening wore on. When Flint came in he found us still sitting in the RAF mess hall sipping on tea as he told me a story he knew of the old country.
I was so enraptured by his voice, by the story…that I didn’t even notice Flint until he was right behind me. Not understanding what was being said…it was all in Gaelic…he broke the spell with an angry word and a barked order.
Needless to say, he was none to pleased.
He was also less than pleased when the great Lord McCullen kissed my hand as he handed me the plans to the COBRA stronghold.
How could Flint understand the memories that flooded back that evening? How could he know that our mortal enemy was a comfort that night…bringing back, if only for an instant, recollections of my late father?
I guess I missed my dad more than I cared to admit. The emptiness he left in my heart when he finally succumbed to the cancer that had been eating away at him bit by painful bit was like a vacuum. That night, against all odds, Destro was caught in its pull.
No. Flint could not have even guessed at what was going on in my mind. How could he? We were just getting to know each other better.
In fact…it was during that mission that I finally succumbed to his persistent charms. It was in Scotland that our relationship became ‘more’ than friends.
As for Destro…I guess the memory of that evening is still sitting in the back of my mind, coloring my view of him.
Needless to say, if I met him on the battlefield…I wouldn’t even hesitate to pull the trigger. Honorable or not, he is still the enemy. He is still COBRA, and I have sworn along with everyone else on the Joe team to bring the organization down.
Wild Bill’s voice is coming over the intercom. We are closing in on the drop zone…I had better get ready.
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