G.I. Joe: Doomsday Protocol

Chapter 7: Look Who's Coming To Dinner

Stalker used Beach Head's stability to keep himself upright and to ease the pain of his right hip as they stood in the shadow of the once ominous Cobra Terror Drome. The jungle had embraced it, its tight grip having made a permanent home in the concrete and steel exterior. As Beach Head eased them forward through the waist high grass, they kept their eyes on the former gun turret outcroppings and Sniper Viper perches built into the sides of the structure; prime ambush locations for a Battle Android Trooper.

"Were the similarities between the Terror Dromes and the Nazi Flak Towers lost on everyone?" Beach Head asked, half joking. He had his pistol at the ready as they reached the front door. It was wide open and large enough for platoons of soldiers and H.I.S.S. tanks to strike from when under threat of attack.

"Ready?" asked Stalker.

"Yeah, let's go."

They headed inside. The entrance extended to the full depth of the Terror Drome. The interior housed rows of dust-covered and rusted Cobra war machines; H.I.S.S. tanks with busted treads, Ferret A.T.V.s leaking fuel, A.S.P.s attached to the back of Cobra Stingers, and several Flight Pods with cracked windshields. Thick, hollow, metal rods were bolted high onto the wall, circling the entire run of the place, the power lines within them having once surged electricity through the entire facility.

Lying on the floor was a dead Viper, his blood not completely dried but dried enough to lose its reflective shine. The Viper's uniform was as clean as the ones Beach Head saw near the freighter. Remnants of destruction surrounded the body; Ferrets bent and twisted in ways that only grenades could sculpt, bullet holes and shells trailing all of the way from the dead Viper to a concrete hallway about fifty feet away, which led to a stairwell. Lining the hallway were gun-racks, amply placed for soldiers rushing to the battlefield. But they were empty.

"Okay, that was plan 'A,'" said Stalker, disappointingly gesturing to the gun racks.

"Plan 'B'?" asked Beach Head.

Stalker pointed to the-- "Stairs. Two floors up. A shelter for Cobra Commander and his top-tier in case they were attacked with chemical weapons. As if we would ever do that."

"You think there are weapons up there?"

"You think Cobra Commander would ever surrender? Have you ever known a maniacal dictator to ever surrender?"

"Makes sense," replied Beach Head. "How do you know this place so well?"

"Studied the floor plan. They're all the same, but I've never been inside one."

Stalker broke out a chem stick and brought it to life before making their way up the winding stairs. The chem stick lit a small circular area around them, making it hard to tell how much further they had to go. Stalker took the lead, the narrow concrete walls making the stairwell only convenient for single-file ascension, he supported himself with the help of the cold walls, while Beach Head watched their backs.

They were greeted at the next floor by a thick steel door, blocked by an up-turned desk. Stalker pointed his chem stick to the floor, showing Beach Head the boot tracks left in the thickly collected dust, going up and down the stairwell multiple times, but always going beyond the door. He recognized the boot treads as standard issue for Vipers, which did not put him at ease since the same boots were also worn by B.A.T.s.

Beach Head shoved the desk out of the way, making a horrible sound as the metal of the desk scraped against the concrete of the floor and echoed throughout. He helped Stalker in, and they began walking across the room. It was the entire circumference of the Terror Drome. A massive circular silo ran through the middle of the structure, formerly having housed a Firebat for vertical launching. Metal blockades filled the room, meant for soldiers to use for cover, each with a South Korean K3 light machine gun mount, all aimed at the door... the only entrance. But no actual machine guns on the mounts.