2008

Friedrich Allister took a long deep breath of the warm seaside air. As the morning sun shone down on his face, he wondered, "How did I ever live behind that damn mask?" He looked down at the shore. His wife and three children were already out playing in the waves. He took another deep breath and thought, "Who would have thought being legitimate could be this good."

Allister left the rail of his balcony and went through the sliding glass door into his study. He grabbed the morning paper and sat at his desk with a cup of cappuccino. His eyes immediately fell to the headline: "Baxter Wins". Allister turned white as a sheet and his cappuccino crashed to the floor. "Dammit!" His mind raced in a hundred different directions. "He could ruin everything... There is no way he could know where I am… Everybody thinks I'm dead… The whole world is in danger… There is no way that madman can be president… I should have had him killed before the primaries." He closed his eyes and took another deep breath. Slowly he picked up the phone and dialed a number that he had not dialed in years. "Sam? This is Allister. Yeah, I need you to set up a meeting with Cedric… Today. Yeah… Thank you." Allister put down the receiver and took another deep breath. "Oh, God."

It was about two hours later when Cedric entered the bar. "Mista Allista mon, what can I do for you this fine day?"

Allister slid a file across the table. "Don't open this until you get to a more private place. I need you to find this man," He said tapping his finger on the file. "Everything you should need is in there… picture… last known alias and location… I need you to find him and set up a meeting.

"Here?" Cedric asked.

"No… not in the Bahamas… nor the U.S. or Britain… and no where near his current location. Find us someplace very, very remote." Allister paused, then added, "But we don't want to look out of place either."

Cedric's only good eye narrowed, "And what if he doesn't want to come?"

Allister scribbled a figure on a napkin and slid it across the table. "Offer him this, upfront. If he wants to negotiate, you can go higher, but no more than say… triple."

Cedric stared at the napkin for a second, "This is a lot of fuckin' money… how much do I get?"

"Double the usual plus expenses." Allister answered firmly, then added, "Triple if we meet within a week."

Cedric tried not to swallow the toothpick that he was fumbling in his mouth, "You are a very persuasive mon, Mista Allista. I will give this my full attention."

"I knew you would."

Allister sat in the café and puffed on the Nargilla. Damascus isn't so bad in late November. His father had brought him here once as a boy. It was unbearable… especially in that damn mask. His thoughts turned back to the present, "Four days… I never realized that Cedric was that good." Allister tried not to figit in his chair, but his nerves were almost gone. In the twelve years since he had gone legit, Allister had practiced hard at changing his accent, gestures, mannerisms, even his facial expressions. Everyone who ever knew of his association with Cobra was either dead or thought that he was dead. And he had been thorough… very thorough… probably too thorough. Images flashed through his mind… his family's burnt out castle, the Baroness and Roger's burnt bodies… the first time that he saw Carmen on the beach. A grin lightened his mood. "Twelve years…" he sighed to himself. He saw his old comrade walking up the street. Could he really pull this off?

Allister cleared his throat, "Mr. Hach, I presume?"

Hach slowed his pace as he approached the table. "I guess you're the one that little one-eyed bastard told me about."

"You are correct, Mr. Hach," Allister responded.

"I'm afraid you have me at a disadvantage, Mr…?"

"My name is… unimportant," Allister replied.

"Oh, I believe it is, if you want to continue this conversation." Hach retorted.

"Very well, if I must have a name… you can call me… Scrap-Iron," Allister smiled coldly.

Hach went dead white and collapsed into a nearby chair. He leaned across the table, "How the hell did you know about that?"

"I know a great deal about you, Mr. Hach," Allister answered. "And you don't realize how much you know about me," he thought. "I am meeting with you in person because I know that we both have secrets that we can't afford to tell our most trusted companions."

"And what is your secret, Mr.?" Hach asked.

Allister snickered, "Let's just say that I was an associate of your former commander."

"So what the hell do you want from me?" Hach was getting hot. "I know you didn't give me 5 mil and fly me out to this shithole just to blackmail me."

"Quite right," now Allister was leaning across the table." I need to find another former associate of ours and arrange a job."

"Alright," Hach sighed. "Who do you need me to find?"

"Firefly," Allister answered.

Hach snorted, "That's a tall order. I'm a little out of touch right now…"

"But can you find him?" Allister interrupted.

"I think I can find someone who can find him," Hach finished. "What's the job?"

"Do you know who won the American presidential elections a few days ago?" Allister asked his new business associate.

"Yeah, Henry Baxter," Hach became a little uneasy, but then as if he had received new insight, added, "Oh, I get it. You want to take out Baxter's V.P., that Abernathy fuck."

"No, no, no," Allister shook his head. "Senator Abernathy is the least of our problems now." He readjusted in his seat and put his finger on the table, "You know as well as I do who Baxter really is. He has to be taken out before he takes office."

Hach eyed Allister carefully, "I know Zartan has a lot of enemies, but isn't this the ultimate revenge? Having one of our own as president…"

Allister slapped his hand on the table, "That fool never believed in what Cobra stood for! He was a mercenary. Just some thug…" Allister lowered his voice. His anger had become obvious to Hach and his Scottish accent was starting to slip through. He took a deep breath and finished, "Cobra Commander's problem was that he became too dependent on mercenaries… I cannot allow that madman to hold the most powerful political position in the world… I have too many good things going for me now… we both do." Allister stared coldly into Hach's eyes.

"I hadn't thought of it that way," Hach whispered. He leaned back in his chair. "Firefly will not be cheap and neither will my contact… and for a job this big…"

"I realize it will be costly, "said Allister calmer this time. "I will pay them in full, up front, plus a bonus if this is done before the end of the year, but they absolutely must do it before the inauguration."

"Are you going to pay them in person?" Hach grinned.

"I'll arrange for you to be in contact with Cedric. He will arrange to pay the necessary fees." Allister paused then added, "Also, if any of you are caught… I cannot arrange any escapes, but I can compensate you or your families, if you can keep your mouths shut."

"Well, I appreciated that sir, but I don't think these men have families." Hach responded.

"Good point," Allister thought.

"However," Hach continued, "They are professionals. They know the risks."

Allister took a deep breath and rubbed his eyes, "Then do we have a deal, Mr. Hach?"

"Oh, absolutely."

Vice-President elect Clayton Abernathy wearily entered his hotel suite and flung himself on the bed. He rubbed his face, let out a deep breath, and recapped the day in his mind, "speech, speech, public appearance, ass-kissing… I'd better get used to it if I'm going to make a good V.P." He thought the Senate should have prepared him, but as vice- president, he would have to kiss tail for himself and Baxter. He snapped his fingers, "Got to call Henry." His mind intended for him to sit up, but his body refused to obey. As he began to doze, his mind went back over the events that brought him to this room. His brief retirement from the army ended when he decided to run for the Senate. A week into his first term, Fate brought him into contact with another freshman Senator from Georgia named Henry Baxter. Baxter, the former C.E.O. of a huge software company, had been kidnapped by Cobra in '93. Serpentor attempted to hold Baxter for ransom in a last ditch effort to gain some much needed funds for his collapsing organization. Baxter's rescue would be the end of Serpentor and break Cobra's back for good. It was also G.I. Joe's last mission. When Abernathy saw Baxter at his first Senator reception, it was like he had found a long-lost brother. Yes, he missed the old days. He thought he had a chance to relive some of them in '95. He and Falcon formed Battleforce 2000, but that fiasco was more of a political maneuver for Abernathy and a power trip for Falcon. "Too bad about him and Jinx," he grinned. "Oh, well. His loss is my gain." BF2K had been primarily formed to apprehend/eliminate former Cobra operatives who had escaped capture and/or prosecution. Since the U.N. would never sanction such an organization, all of the missions were Top Secret. In the media, BF2K came off as a sideshow act. It was scrapped after just a few years and all personnel were reassigned. That's when Baxter and Abernathy set their sights on the White House. This had been a "historic election". It was the first time that third party won the presidential office since Abraham Lincoln. "I wish Catherine had lived to be here with me."

A knock at the door interrupted Abernathy's thoughts. This time his body allowed him to get up and go to the door. "Hi, Jinx," a smile came to his face as the door opened.

Jinx jerked to attention and saluted, "Good evening Mr. Vice- President elect General Senator Abernathy, sir."

They both chuckled as she entered the suite. "I just wanted to bring you these," she handed him some paperwork.

"Thanks," he replied rolling his eyes and tossing the papers on the nightstand. "How does everything look?"

"Everything is secure," she answered. "No aging Cobras are climbing up the wall of the hotel to assassinate the former Brigadier General of G.I. Joe."

"Well, that's comforting," he moved in close to her. "Jinx… I really appreciate you being here. And I'm not just talking about you watching my ass…"

"I know," she put a finger over his lips as she started to blush. They stared at each other until finally Jinx said, "We should both get some rest, Hawk."

Abernathy nodded, "When we get back to Atlanta, let's go out to dinner."

"Okay," Jinx grinned and moved back into the hall. As the door closed behind her, she felt as if she were going to explode. She really liked the way she felt around Hawk. "I wonder what the press will say when the V.P. starts dating a Colonel's ex-wife."

"Uh-huh… Well good. Alright Clay, "we'll meet as soon as ya'll get back in town." Baxter put down the phone and leaned back in his chair. "President," he snickered, "I still can't believe it. I, Henry Baxter, will be the next President."

"But, there's a problem dear brother." Baxter jerked his head around as Zandar stepped out of the shadows. "You are not Henry Baxter," Zandar finished.

"Zandar," Baxter responded nervously, "I thought you went to visit Zarana."

"I did," Zandar answered. "She said that prick husband of her's doesn't know anything and that she wouldn't say a word."

"Thank God," Baxter sighed.

Zandarstared at his brother for a minute, then shook his head, "Zartan, you do realize that there is know way in hell you can pull this off."

"Look Zandar," Zartan shot back, " the only person who can link me to Zartan is you…"

"Me and the twenty or so other people who watched you murder the real Baxter in Serpentor's throne room." Zandar interrupted.

"Most of them are dead," Zartan countered.

"Most," Zandar emphasized.

"So what?" Zartan continued, getting up from his desk and looking out the window. "We haven't heard from anyone in fifteen years…"

"You've never been President before, "Zandar offered.

Zartan turned around to face his brother, "I'm sure they have forgotten all about me."

Zandar leaned I close to his brother, "Somebody will come for you and you know it… If not to kill you, then for a favor, a pardon, blackmail…"

"My dear brother, you worry too much," Zartan tried to reassure him.

"I hope you're right," Zandar turned and walked towards the door.

"Where are you going?" Zartan called after him.

"I'll be around," the door shut behind him and Zartan was left alone with his thoughts.

He walked over to the mirror on the wall and stared into Henry Baxter's eyes. "It's me," he thought. "I've had this face for fifteen years. I'm not sure that I could change it even if I wanted to."

Towards the end of his stint with Cobra, Zartan had grown weary of his life as a mercenary. He had desperately wanted out and looked for any opportunity to make an exit. That opportunity came one day in Serpentor's throne room.

Henry Baxter was a little more headstrong than anybody had expected. He went for Zartan's gun and out of reflex, Zartan slit his throat. Naturally this outraged most of his comrades, but Destro had a solution: take the body downstairs, burn it and let Zartan take Baxter's place until they had the money. It was going perfectly, until G.I. Joe showed up. When Falcon and Tunnel-Rat blasted into his cell, Zartan just went along with them. He had his way out. He managed to fool Baxter's wife, three kids, and all of his friends. For years, he lived in constant fear that he would be exposed. His fears had almost completely subsided by the time he decided to run for president. Then the nightmares returned. The real Baxter, or Cobra Commander, or Buzzer would just come strolling into his living room…

He shook the thoughts out of his head. For the first time in his life, he was truly happy. Besides, most of the people who knew about Zartan were dead. All of the people who had any real power to do anything were long dead. He chuckled, "Just imagine if Destro had lived to hear about this. I would have been dead before the primaries." Actually, he was more worried about himself than any assassin. He felt like his mind was slipping. Sometimes he managed to forget that he had once been a hit man/terrorist-for-hire named Zartan. But then the memories would come flooding back and Henry Baxter felt so far away. "It's probably just stress from the election," he took a deep breath and popped some Advil into his mouth. He truly loved Stacey and the kids. And Clay, Zartan's worst enemy, Baxter's best friend. "Who would have thought going legit could be this good?"

"I don't fuckin' believe it! Scrap-Iron!" the man at the end of the alley whispered a little too loudly.

Hach looked around nervously and held up his hand, "It's Ryan now, Major Bl…"

"Shhhhh," the man waved his hand in the air and also glanced around, "People call me Venom now." The two men stared at each other for a minute, then burst into laughter. "It's bloody good to see you again Scr..ah…Ryan. Look at you…all dressed up like a businessman. Rumor had it that you had gone legit."

" Yeah, well, our old line of work isn't as fulfilling as it used to be." Hach grinned.

"I understand completely. So how did you manage to escape Abernathy's death squad?" Venom redirected.

"Same as you…Venom…change of name, dress, attitude." Hach answered.

"Well, if you could find me, you can't have changed that much." Venom laughed and slapped his old friend on the shoulder. His laughter broke when he saw Hach grimace. "So, what brought you out of hiding?"

Hach took a deep breath, " I've been hired to find Firefly and offer him a job. I was hoping that you could put me in touch with him or even contact him for me…"

"Well," Venom broke in, "you know Firefly has never been much of a people person. He doesn't really like to meet face to face…"

"Believe me," Hach interrupted, "a job like this can't be phoned in or emailed. Can you find him?"

"Well yeah. We worked together not too long ago." Venom lowered his voice, "What exactly is the job?"

Hach looked straight into Venom's only eye. He knew that he would only have to say one word, "Zartan."

Venom slowly let out his breath, "I knew somebody would be after that bastard. You're right, for a job this big; Firefly will probably prefer a face-to-face meeting… He'll probably even ask me to assist." He stopped and looked at Hach teasingly, "We could probably even use a third hand."

Hach snickered, "Sorry, I'm truly out."

Venom smirked then asked, "Who is funding this thing anyway?"

As the pair started to walk up the alley, Hach answered, "To be perfectly honest, I'm not exactly sure. The guy I met claimed to be one of Cobra Commander's old backers, but I don't remember meeting him. Actually, he reminded me a little of…" A revelation hit Hach like a ton of bricks as his mind placed Allister's face behind a silver mask. "Nah, he's dead," he thought.

"Reminded you of who?" Venom urged.

"Nevermind."

Abernathy fidgeted in his seat. Something did not feel right. "You alright, Hawk?" Jinx leaned towards him.

"I don't know. Something doesn't feel quite right. Keep your eyes open today," the old general responded.

Jinx moved towards the front of the bus as they pulled towards their destination. "Is your boss okay?" Baxter smiled as Jinx approached.

"Yeah, he'll be fine. You know how old soldiers are," she smiled back.

The bus came to a stop and the group began to move. A man dressed in a black suit and dark glasses approached Jinx. "The President elect and the Vice-President elect will sit on the right side of the platform. The President elect's family will sit to the left."

Jinx passed the instructions along to Baxter and Abernathy. Baxter kissed his wife and he made his way to his seat with his old friend, "you feelin' alright, Clay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. I think I'm just a little nervous." Abernathy answered.

"Well, get used to it," Baxter answered.

Jinx stood next to Agent Jones at the bottom of the platform. "Keep your eyes open today. The Vice-president elect is a little nervous."

"We'll do," Jones sniffed.

The band began to play and people began to fill in the area around the platform. It was open-air meetings like this that gave Baxter/Abernathy their ticket to the White House. Baxter figured one more before the inauguration next month would be good publicity. Holding it in New York, the one major state that they did not carry was just icing on the cake.

Baxter approached the podium. He cleared his throat and began his speech, "Good afternoon friends. We are pleased to be here today. In about a month, my good friend, Clay Abernathy and I will take the oath of office as your next President and Vice-president…" the crowd burst into cheers, "we stand on the brink of a new era in…" He never heard the shot. One moment Baxter was smiling and thinking of a bright future. The next instant, his lifeless body was falling to the platform.

"Nooooo!" Zandar screamed. He seemed to leap out of nowhere and ran towards the building across the street.

As soon as Abernathy heard the shot, his gun was out and he was rushing towards his falling friend. He got there before any of the Secret Service agents, but it was too late. Baxter had been hit right between the eyes. Several agents had reached the body by the time Jinx and Agent Jones got to the podium.

Abernathy pointed to the top of the building across the street, "Up there!" he screamed at Jinx.

Jinx and several other agents ran to the building. The agents ran through the front entrance while she scaled the side of the building after Zandar. "I'll have to get her to teach me that trick someday," Jones thought as he headed towards the elevator.

By the time Jinx reached the roof, Zandar was already fighting a man dressed fully in black. She saw two agents lying near the ledge. Not finding a pulse on either of them, she spun around and pointed her gun at the two fighters, "I don't know what the hell's going on here, but both of you freeze!"

Abernathy knelt down by the body of his friend. Baxter's wife and children were being rushed into a nearby building. "Sir," an agent whispered to Abernathy, "We should really get you inside…what the hell?" He stared at Baxter's face, "Something's happening!"

Abernathy watched as Baxter's face blurred. Slowly, the dead man's features began to change. It took Abernathy a few seconds to place the face of his old enemy, "Fucking Zartan!" The rage welled up within his body. He turned around to glare at the roof of the building.

"What's happening, sir?" the agent asked. "Sir?"

Abernathy took off across the street as fast as he could. He would get to the bottom of this if it killed him.

Jinx heard the roar of the Fang helicopter as it rose above the other side of the roof. The figure in black dashed for the ledge and jumped for the closest landing rail on the Fang. Jinx knew that she could not afford to let him get away and fired three shots at the fleeing assassin.

The first shot grazed Firefly's shoulder. Normally, a shot like that would not be fatal, but it was enough to prevent him from getting a grip on the rail of the Fang. The second shot shattered a couple of ribs. The third caught him in the lower back. He reached out in vain for the ledge of the building, but he was already on his way to the alley below. As the ground rushed up to meet him, Firefly wondered if there was anything to that heaven and hell stuff that his grandmother used to tell him about. His only prayer was that he would black out before he hit the pavement.

When Venom saw that Firefly was a smear on the concrete, he jerked the Fang away from the building. His eye briefly caught Zandar's who moved towards the ledge of the building. Jinx swung her gun in Zandar's direction, "Don't move you bastard!"

"It's Major Blood!" Zandar yelled pointing towards the escaping Fang. He took a couple of giant steps, and then he was over the ledge and wrapped his arms around the rail that eluded Firefly's grasp.

The agents reached the roof followed closely by Abernathy. "What the hell's going on?" Agent Jones yelled over the roar of helicopter.

Jinx turned to Abernathy, "That's the shooter down there," she said pointing to the mess in the alley. "Zandar and Major Blood are on the Fang."

"You're letting them get away!" Abernathy screamed.

Jinx's eyes narrowed, "Actually Zandar was trying to stop them."

"That would make sense," Abernathy stared coldly at the escaping Fang. "It was Zartan who was killed."

"What!" Jinx yelled. She stared at him in disbelief, but without any response Abernathy raised his gun, fired a couple of shots at the Fang and jumped across the alley to the next rooftop in pursuit.

Zandar pulled himself up to the cockpit, "I'll fuckin' kill you, you sonovabitch!" Venom grabbed his pistol and swung it towards Zandar's head. Zandar slapped the weapon to the floor, grabbed Venom's head and snapped his neck. Zandar dropped to the rooftop below as the helicopter spun out of control and slammed into a building across the street. He hit the roof a little harder than he expected and before he could gather his thoughts, Abernathy was on top of him.

Abernathy was full of rage. He smacked Zandar in the head a few times with his gun, then grabbed the bleeding mercenary by the throat and pressed the gun barrel to his head. "Where is the real Baxter?"

Zandar stared coldly into the eyes of his brother's running mate, "Baxter's been dead for fifteen years."

"Bullshit!" Abernathy fired back, "I knew the real Henry Baxter…"

Zandar's eyes dropped, "You've never even met the real Henry Baxter…it was always Zartan."

Jinx and the other agents caught up to the two men. Immediately, she noticed that the hammer on Abernathy's weapon was slowly moving back. "Hawk please, let him go. We'll take him in and figure out what's happening."

Abernathy took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He could feel his finger slowly pulling back the trigger. "Hawk!" Jinx screamed frantically this time, "Don't do this! We will figure this out!"

Abernathy's eyes popped open. He tightened his grip on Zandar's throat, and then smashed Zandar in the side of the head with the butt of his gun. Zandar fell to the rooftop unconscious and Abernathy collapsed to his knees in tears. Jinx knelt down beside him and put here arms around him. "We'll figure it out."

Friedrich Allister rolled over on his back and stared at the ceiling. He turned his head in Carmen's direction and watched her sleep. "She doesn't have a clue," he thought. He had not slept much in the last week. He could not quiet his mind. Since he saw the first headline, he had been robbed of sleep. It became public that the American people had elected an imposter. If the real Henry Baxter had been elected, then his Vice- President elect would take his place after the assassination. But everyone had been fooled. Congress decided that there should be a special run-off election between Abernathy and the runner-up from the general election. Governor Michael Jordan of North Carolina won by a landslide. The public lost faith in Abernathy, a man who did not know that his running-mate/best friend was a hiding international terrorist.

A smile came to Allister's face, but his mind quickly returned to his worries. Had he been careful enough? Firefly and Major Blood were dead, but was there something that he left uncovered? Should he have Scrap-Iron killed just in case? And what about Cederic? How much did he know? "I should have both of them hit," he decided. "No," he countered, "then I'll have to eliminate the people who take them out." He took a deep breath, "They're bound to come for me someday. I'll just enjoy what I have while I have it." He felt a kiss on his cheek.

"Are you okay, baby?" Carmen asked gently.

He rolled over to face her and smiled, "Yes, everything is fine."

THE END