Heroic Commandos

Rio de Janeiro, Brazil

1990

The rotors of the Tomahawk helicopter beat the air with their steady rhythm as the Argentine pilot, codenamed Glenda, thought to herself, ‘This was supposed to be an easy mission,’ for the third time in ten minutes.

Fifteen minutes earlier, she’d dropped off four of her fellow members of the secret special ops unit known officially as Task Force 282, a joint Brazilian, Argentine, and Chilean group. The mission had been simple; to move through the slums of Rio, to a target building identified by the unit’s undercover specialist, Sparta, and stage a raid on the building.

Five minutes later, the mission plan was in the toilet as the squad, lead by Sergeant Manleh, had been ambushed by a group of Cobra’s Invasor troops and a large number of civilian criminals, all sporting Cobra sigils.

Glenda turned in her seat to look back at Topson, the unit’s communications specialist.

“Anything?” she asked.

“Nope,” Topson answered. The former criminal was trying to spot the team as they battled their way through the alleys and streets of the favela.

At the side of the helicopter, Sokerk, the Brazilian machine gunner, was leaning out the open door, scanning the streets.

“They are so screwed,” he commented. “I knew we should’ve deployed the team in the VAMPs.”

“Quit your bitching,” Topson told him. “Manleh over-ruled you. Just live with it.”

In the narrow streets below, Manleh was running full-tilt towards the landing zone where the Tomahawk was supposed to pick up the team. His sub-machine gun clenched tightly in his hand, he risked a backward glance to see Condor, Shimik and Fuego, the other three members of the team, were still close on his heels.

Manleh could also see a dozen of the Cobra militia members pursuing them. He turned his attention back to where he was going and saw an intersection of alleys ahead. He swung to the left, slowing slightly.

Halfway down the alley, he slowed even more when he saw a group of Cobra Invasors running toward them.

Cursing in Spanish, Manleh dived to the left, crashed through a wooden door into a shanty house and ran straight through the two rooms of the house. He dove through a window, crashed on to the roof of another house and picked himself up before running on. Condor, close on his heels, yelled, “You’re completely loco, Manleh! You’re gonna get us killed!”

“Save your breath for running, Condor!” Fuego called as he caught up to them.

Shimik keyed his throat mike and called to the helicopter overhead. “Glenda, this is Shimik. We’re on the rooftops. Can you see us?”

Overhead the Tomahawk was now circling around as Manleh leaped from one rooftop across an alley onto another. Bullets whipped past the team as the Cobras opened fire with their assault rifles.

On board the helicopter, Sokerk called out to Glenda, “I see them! Two hundred metres west of the LZ. Cobras on their asses!”

“Give them some cover fire!” Glenda snapped back as she slid the Tomahawk into a sideways drift and dropped the altitude.

Sokerk responded by opening fire with the helicopter’s 20mm machine gun.

Glenda dropped the Tomahawk to near rooftop level and held it steady as the four commandos sprinted across one building, dropped onto the corrugated tin roof of another and ran toward her.

Topson helped the four soldiers scramble aboard as Sokerk gave more cover fire.

Glenda shoved the helicopter into a rapid climb as the Cobras opened fire.

The Tomahawk raced away, gaining altitude as it did so.

Headquarters of the Brazilian 1st Special Forces Battalion

Half an hour later

The commandos trudged into the ready room they typically occupied at the Brazilian barracks, to find their commanding officer, El Coronel, was waiting for them. Shimik, Condor, Fuego and Manleh struggled to pull themselves to attention; they were so tired.

El Coronel waved them to the seats. “Relax, Commandos, take some time to get your breath back.”

The colonel turned his attention to Glenda. “What happened?”

The pilot shrugged. “We got to the drop-off point without any problems, I inserted the team at the DZ as planned. I moved up to the pre-planned orbit track over the favela, and we got a call from Shimik that the team was taking fire. He reported that they were under attack from civilian gunmen.”

Shimik nodded, “They were gang members. All wearing Cobra sigils. Armed with AK-47s. We fought them off and pressed on to the objective. Then more of them started showing up everywhere.”

Manleh cut in, “I ordered Shimik to call for extraction, but we couldn’t retreat to the DZ, we were cut off. We tried to press on to the agreed upon landing zone, but we were under attack from civilians and uniformed Cobra Invasor troops.”

Manleh went on to explain their pursuit across the rooftops and final extraction.

“We didn’t expect so many Invasor troops to be there,” Manleh concluded. “Or for there to be civilians working with them.”

Condor spoke up, “Sir, as we were passing the target building, I’m sure I saw Cobra de Aco being bundled out of a side door. I saw his yellow body armour.”

El Coronel raised his eyebrows. “The Steel Cobra? Really?”

“Positive,” Condor answered.

El Coronel silently thought this news over. Finally, he looked up at the soldiers once again. “I think we’re on to something important. I’m going to speak to the general and see if we can have support from the 1st Battalion and raid that place again.” The colonel smiled, “In the meantime, get some rest all of you.”

An hour later, El Coronel returned to the ready room. Sokerk, Manleh, Shimik and Topson were playing cards for pocket change. Condor was reading a Tom Clancy novel, whilst Fuego and Estopim were playing a video game. Glenda was reading a helicopter manual.

Shimik spotted the colonel and leaped to his feet, snapping out, “Attention!”

“At ease,” El Coronel responded as the soldiers leaped to their feet.

The group relaxed into the easy stance.

“The Brazilian government and the general have agreed to the Special Operations Battalion assisting in another raid on our target in the favela. Wheels up in four hours,” El Coronel informed them.

Four hours later 

The six helicopters flew toward the favela in the increasing darkness. It was two hours after sunset and lights lit the windows of many of the shanty buildings. Glenda held the Commandos’ helicopter away from the target area as the other four flew to specific positions forming a square around the building. The sixth helicopter was circling at higher altitude overhead.

Topson received a message on his radio moments later.

“All four teams are down and holding position,” he reported. “We’re clear to move in.”

Glenda nodded and shoved the throttle forward. The Tomahawk swept in toward the target building and then hovered over the narrow street outside.

Redmack quickly tossed the ropes out the helicopter’s doors, before Condor, Fuego, Manleh and Shimik fast-roped down to the street. As they moved away, Estopim and Redmack slid down to the street, whilst Sokerk manned the Tomahawk’s gun to cover them.

In the distance, the clatter of automatic weapons fire was just audible over the helicopter’s rotors beating the air, before Glenda pulled back.

Most people don’t realise just how damn loud a gunshot is. Enclosing the weapon and its report in a building or a narrow street amplifies the noise. It was for this reason the Brazilian soldiers and the commandos of Task Force 282 were using suppressed sub-machine guns. Only Estopim was using an assault rifle, his M4 carbine fitted with an M203 grenade launcher, which held a single tear gas round.

Manleh and Shimik moved to the left of the door as Topson reported over the team’s headset radios, “''Alpha and Beta teams are under attack from civilian gangs. They’re holding the perimeter, but only just''.”

“We’re on it,” Shimik answered as Condor and Fuego took their places at the right.

Manleh nodded to Redmack who shouted in Portuguese, “Attention, Cobras! Come out with your hands up and no weapons or we’re coming in!”

For a moment there was no response. Then a burst of gunfire shredded the thin wooden door. Luckily, no one was in the line of fire.

Estopim fired his tear-gas grenade into the rundown building, the grenade shattering the window as it smashed in.

The four members of the assault team had their respirators in place and charged in.

Six Cobra Invasors were on the floor choking on the gas, as was another figure, one clad in a red martial artist’s outfit.

Manleh and Shimik immediately grabbed him and hauled him out into the street.

Once outside, the red-clad figure with the silver Cobra sigil on the left side of his tunic was recognisable as the notorious ninja known as Satan.

Redmack quickly stepped forward and shoved Satan’s wrists into a plastic flex-tie. Estopim covered Redmack, as the intelligence specialist quickly removed the ninja’s sword, shuriken, knife, nunchucks and longbow from his body.

Condor and Fuego dragged out and restrained the other Cobras.

In moments, the team bundled the still blinded and stumbling prisoners across to another building, guiding them on to the flat roof.

Glenda brought the Tomahawk down to the level of the roof and the six soldiers guided the prisoners into the helicopter. Topson, sitting in the co-pilot’s seat, gasped when he saw Satan.

“Holy mother of God,” he commented. “Is that who I think?”

“Sure is,” Manleh answered.

Glenda quickly sped the Tomahawk away from the favela as Topson reported into the command helicopter that they were exfiltrating the area and that the Brazilian soldiers could now disengage and pull out.

Headquarters of the Brazilian 1st Special Forces Battalion

When the Commandos’ Tomahawk landed back at the Brazilian base, the captured Invasor troops were swiftly off-loaded and handed over to the Brazilian Special Forces troops who met the helicopter. Satan was left on board with Redmack, Condor and Fuego. The others disembarked to report to El Coronel, whilst Glenda lifted off to head for the team’s base in Argentina.

Task Force 282 Headquarters

Argentina

Two days later

Attempts to interrogate Satan had got the commandos nowhere fast. Despite Redmack’s best efforts, the ninja wouldn’t speak. He’d tried everything short of torture and the Cobra assassin had said nothing. El Coronel had alerted G.I. Joe and Action Force, the American and European counter-Cobra teams, to the capture of Satan and both had dispatched teams to South America.

El Coronel and Redmack were conversing outside the base’s prison block when the thudding beat of helicopter rotors split the air. Both looked up to see two dark blue transport helicopters descending toward the camp.

“Is that the Joes and the Action Force team?” Redmack wondered.

His reply was the sudden eruption of gunfire from the two helicopters as pintle-mounted machine-guns blazed at the ground.

El Coronel and Redmack charged into the prison building as the bullets stitched a line across the base’s airstrip and shredded one of the commandos’ transport helicopters.

Sirens began wailing across the base as the two helicopters touched down and twenty Invasor troops leaped from the two helicopters. One squad headed straight for the prison block, the other for the barracks.

Redmack lead El Coronel into the small prison’s armoury room and the pair withdrew an assault rifle each.

Once they returned to the doors, the ten Invasors were only a few feet away. Both sides opened fire.

Three Invasors were cut down before El Coronel and Redmack dived for cover as bullets slammed into the walls of the building. The two soldiers ducked behind the desk in the lobby as the Invasor troops sprayed more gunfire at them.

Through the open door, Redmack could see the gunmen getting ready to storm the building.

Sure enough, a flash-bang was thrown in seconds later and detonated, blinding and deafening the pair. The Invasors charged in, passing the two men as they ran along the narrow corridor that led in to the cellblock itself. One of the Invasors unslung a shotgun from his shoulder and fired three times, destroying the lock and the hinges.

Another Invasor kicked the door down, but was shot dead as the two guards, members of the regular Argentine Army, opened fire.

The Invasor troops opened fire, liberally spraying the cellblock with automatic fire. Then three strode in to the block. Seconds later, the group charged back out.

Outside, Estopim and Manleh were attempting to flank the Invasor group outside the barracks as they pinned down Shimik and Sokerk inside. Estopim fired a grenade into the group, sending several of the Invasors flying as the grenade blew apart a jeep they were using as cover.

Before the commandos could capitalise on their success, the two Cobra transport helicopters dropped back to the ground and collected the survivors. The two helicopters lifted off and raced south.

Inside the cellblock, Redmack stood looking down at Satan’s dead body. He turned to El Coronel.

“I can’t believe they’d be so incompetent as to shoot the guy they came to rescue,” he said.

The commanding officer shrugged. “Certainly looks like they were.”

An hour later, an Argentine Army transport helicopter landed at the base and dropped off the visitors. Redmack and El Coronel greeted them.

Clean-up crews were still working as the colonel exchanged salutes with the four men and two women.

Redmack stepped forward, “Nice to see you again, Scarlett.”

The American woman looked politely blank as she stared at him. “Sorry, have we met?”

“Only once and only briefly,” Redmack answered. “I was only with the G.I. Joe team for a few weeks and you were part of the team that briefed me on my special mission down here before I got permanently seconded to the Two-Eight-Two.”

Scarlett smiled, “Redmack. The mission in the Andes. Now I remember.”

She turned to the two men with her, “Let me introduce you to Chuckles and Law. They both joined several years after you left.”

Redmack was slightly intimidated by Chuckles, who was a large bear of a man. He wore a loud Hawaiian shirt with plain tan coloured trousers. A large pistol was holstered on the left of his chest. Law on the other hand, had friendly demeanour and was wearing a blue sleeveless jacket over a red t-shirt and green trousers. A police badge on his jacket and an MP armband confirmed what his job was with the Joe team, military policeman. What Chuckles’ role was, Redmack didn’t know.

The other woman stepped forward and shook Redmack’s hand. “Hello,” the blonde said, in a Germanic sounding accent. “I’m Quarrel and these are my colleagues; Stockade and Sentinel.”

Redmack shook hands. Quarrel’s short boyish hairstyle was a contrast to the fiery red ponytail of Scarlett, but otherwise, the two women looked oddly alike. Quarrel, however, wore a green and black outfit which contrasted with Scarlett’s tan and purple ensemble. The two European men were dressed in British style camouflage trousers and jackets. Both wore a red cap and an MP armband. Like Law and Chuckles, they carried side arms, but their pistols were in holsters at their right hip, not shoulder rigs like the Americans.

“Well, I hate to say you’ve arrived at a bad time, but we’ve just had an Invasor raiding party blow in and out. Satan was killed in the attack,” Redmack explained.

“What’s an Invasor?” Sentinel asked. He spoke with a British accent Redmack didn’t recognise.

“It’s the name given to the basic Cobra grunts locally,” Quarrel answered. “Didn’t you read the briefing?”

“Not the background guff, ma’am,” Sentinel answered. Quarrel rolled her eyes.

“Satan was killed?” Law asked, getting to the heart of the matter. “How?”

“At first we thought it was accidental, when the Invasor team attacked the cell-block and they killed two Argentine Army guards,” Redmack answered. “But playing back the security camera footage shows they were deliberately firing into the cells. It looks like the point of this attack wasn’t to spring this guy, it was to kill him.”

Stockade frowned, “Why kill their own man?”

“That’s what we’re trying to work out,” Redmack answered.

The intelligence specialist led them to the infirmary, where the Commandos’ medic, SOS, was waiting for them in the mortuary.

“Our ninja friend here was killed by multiple gunshots to the chest,” SOS explained as Chuckles folded back the white sheet over the body and studied his face.

“Anything come up in the examination?” Chuckles asked as he studied the corpse’s face.

“Yes,” SOS replied, “I only just found this.” He held up the dead man’s right arm. A large scar was visible along the skin.

“Looks like someone tried carving his skin off,” Sentinel observed. “Training accident?”

“Possibly,” Chuckles said as he looked closely at the arm. “Or possibly someone wanted to remove a tattoo.”

Quarrel and her colleagues exchanged blank looks.

“A tattoo?” Quarrel asked.

“Yes, there’s a certain ninja clan which has a tattoo on their right forearm,” Chuckles said. “I take it Storm Shadow never operated in Europe?”

“Not that I know of,” Quarrel answered. “Cobra Europe’s principal assassin is a Snake style Kung Fu master called ‘Shadow Snake’. He’s bad enough.”

Chuckles turned his attention to Scarlett. “I want to head back Stateside and speak to Storm Shadow. See if he knows this clown.”

“We have faxed the guy’s prints and a photo to the FBI, Interpol and the Japanese security service, see if any of them know who he is,” Redmack cut in.

“Good,” Scarlett said. “But if Chuckles is right and this guy’s from Storm Shadow’s clan, he might have more info.” She turned back to the investigator. “Talk to El Coronel, see if he whistle up a jet to get you back there. I’ll call the P.I.T. and get them to send Storm Shadow to meet you.”

Chuckles nodded and left.

“In the meantime, I guess we can carry on trying to figure out who this guy was,” Scarlett added.

Once Chuckles was on his way back to America, Scarlett, Quarrel and Redmack closeted themselves in Redmack’s intelligence office and began going over all the files the commandos had on Satan.

With nothing better to do, Stockade and Sentinel went to the firing range, where they met Glenda, Estopim, Manleh and Condor.

Stockade was struck by the uncanny feeling Glenda, Scarlett and Quarrel looked similar. Considering one was Swiss, one Argentine and one American, it was an odd thing to think.

The two MPs discussed some of the missions they’d been on with the South Americans, who also discussed some of their operations.

Law, meanwhile, went to visit the Argentine Army guards and their dogs, since he was missing his own canine partner, Order.

The following morning, Stockade and Sentinel met Estopim at the firing range for a friendly shooting competition to see who was the best shot.

They were halfway through the match when alarms began to sound, before a voice began announcing something in Spanish, which the MPs didn’t understand. Estopim turned and charged out the door without an explanation. The two British soldiers raced to the headquarters building to find Scarlett, Quarrel and Redmack conversing with El Coronel and a Chilean Army officer.

Quarrel took them aside and explained that a vehicle depot belonging to the task force was under attack from Cobra.

“The commandos lit out of here in a hurry. Redmack got detailed to baby-sit us, so don’t expect him to be too cheerful,” Quarrel explained. “They’ve taken a pair of their VAMP jeeps and an APC with Glenda giving them air cover in a captured FANG.”

“What’s a VAMP?” Stockade asked.

“Vehicle: Attack, Multi-Purpose,” Redmack explained as he approached. “The original GI Joe jeep. The US government sold a load of vehicles to the Brazilian and Argentine governments to use. VAMPs, AWE Strikers, RAMs, APCs, a few Wolverines, a couple of Dragonflies and a Tomahawk.”

“We use the VAMP in Action Force,” Quarrel cut in. “Only ours are called Panthers. The US gave licenses to several European companies to manufacture Joe vehicles, others they leased to us. We’ve got licensed copies of the VAMP, RAM, APC, Striker and Armadillo. We lease Wolverines, MOBATs, Dragonflies, Conquest X-30s, Devilfish and a few Tomahawks.”

“Wow,” Redmack said. “Do you actually use any of your own stuff?”

“Sure,” Quarrel replied. “Z Force uses our own design of jeeps, as well as the AWE Striker. Q-Force uses nearly all European-built boats; only a few Devilfish are imports. Space Force also use European built craft, the Triad, the Satellite Defence and the Cosmic Cruiser. All our spacecraft are European built.”

“Yeah, and we ripped off the Cobra FANG as the SAS Force Hawk helicopter. Stole the designs, Quarrel did,” Stockade put in.

“And the Stinger jeep,” Sentinel added. “Only SAS Force calls it the ‘Puma’.”

“MARS must love that,” Redmack said.

“Yeah, there’s a court-case going on. Of course it didn’t help when Ironblood flipped out and gave us all the locations of his bases and we sent him to jail. MARS lost the sales of SNAKE armour suits and Hyenas.”

“What’s a SNAKE armour suit? Do you mean Escape Armour?” Stockade asked.

“Yes,” Quarrel answered. “MARS sold it to Ironblood as the ‘Escape Armour’. Cobra calls it the SNAKE.”

“What’s a Hyena?” Redmack asked.

“A HISS tank with better engines and a few other modifications,” Quarrel answered.

“How does an American wind up in a South American counter-Cobra unit, any how?” Sentinel suddenly asked.

“I joined G.I. Joe,” Redmack replied. “One of the few people who spoke Portuguese and Spanish, they deployed me down here on a special mission. Just after that, Brazil, Chile and Argentina finally signed the co-operation treaty that founded the task force. I was asked to stay on and wound up with a permanent secondment.”

“Oh, was that the special mission in Brazil, I heard the Joes ran?” Quarrel asked.

“No, I was up in the Andes. Some other guys handled the Brazilian op. Both were contributing factors to the team being formed,” Redmack replied. “Along with Ironblood stealing weapons from an Argentine Army arsenal and some ops Action Force ran down here.”

Task-Force 282 vehicle depot

The same time

While Redmack was conversing with the European visitors, his teammates were busy racing toward the base under attack.

The depot was little more than a group of warehouses a few miles outside the nearest town.

A guard force of thirty Argentine Army soldiers was assigned to the depot. When the commandos arrived, they found the guard force were out-numbered and out-gunned, as the Cobra force included six HISS tanks, four STUN assault vehicles and a dozen Ferrets.

Glenda immediately opened fire with her helicopter’s rockets and destroyed two of the HISS tanks and a STUN.

As the Cobra forces reacted to the sudden air attack, Glenda was forced to back off as the HISS tanks fired their 90mm guns at her.

Unfortunately for them, it left them vulnerable to Sokerk manning the 50mm cannon on the APC’s turret and the twin 7.62mm guns of the VAMPs. The combined firepower destroyed one of the HISS tanks before the others could evade their fire and split up.

With the HISS tanks distracted by the vehicles on the ground, Glenda brought her helicopter in for a strafing run with her helicopter’s 85mm cannon.

Glenda pulled out of her attack run, leaving another HISS as a burning wreck.

The STUNs began swarming the commandos’ vehicles as the HISS tanks returned to blazing away at Glenda in the helicopter.

As Manleh swung one of the VAMPs around to avoid a STUN’s 30mm guns, Condor leaned out the roll-cage door and threw a C4 charge at another STUN. As the jeep sped clear, the Brazilian paratrooper detonated the demolitions charge, destroying the three-wheeled vehicle.

In the second jeep, Estopim was using the VAMP’s remote control unit to steer the gun turret as Fuego weaved the jeep between two STUNs and a Ferret. Estopim used the guns to shred one of the STUNs before spraying the assault quad with a short burst that killed the Invasor soldier driving it and hit the fuel tank. The Ferret exploded into a small fireball.

Whilst Shimik was driving the APC, and Sokerk used its gun turret, Sparta and Topson pulled back the canvas cover on the vehicle’s rear and braced a pair of M-60 light machine guns on either side and opened fire. The guns couldn’t compete with the armour-piercing rounds the VAMPs’ fired, but they were enough to take care of the Invasor troops on the Ferrets and the quad bikes themselves.

Suddenly, the surviving HISS tanks broke off from trying to shoot down Glenda and instead sped toward the largest of the warehouses, with the surviving STUN racing behind.

The three vehicles sprayed the warehouse doors with gunfire and crashed through. Inside the warehouse were ten captured FANG helicopters, the two American Dragonfly helicopters and one of the Wolverine missile tanks.

The three vehicles opened fire. The Wolverine was ripped apart by the heavy calibre rounds, before they shredded four of the FANGs. The Cobra troops were too target fixated. They failed to notice the APC rumbling in behind them.

Sokerk sprayed all three vehicles with a sustained burst from his gun turret, killing the Cobra troops.

Outside, the surviving Invasor troops on the Ferrets saw their heavy support wiped out, they exchanged looks and then turned and ran.

The commandos helped the guard force to tend to their wounded and begin clearing up some of the wreckage. The commandos soon found that they may have lost a Wolverine and four FANGs, but they’d collected a half dozen Ferrets.

Task Force 282 Headquarters

Minutes later

Scarlett joined the three Europeans and Redmack as El Coronel took a report from Manleh.

“Cobra forces either killed or driven off. Numerous Invasor troops killed, as well as several Motor-Vipers and HISS drivers. No personnel wounded or killed,” El Coronel repeated to the ops room. “Four of our captured FANGs destroyed along with one of our Wolverines.”

“Material losses we can handle,” Redmack said. “I’m just glad we didn’t lose any of our team.”

Sentinel snorted. “These days we seem to lose at least a couple of people every op.”

Redmack frowned. “Follow me,” he snapped.

The others exchanged glances before following the American intelligence operative out of the ops room, along a corridor and into the headquarters building’s main lobby. None of them had actually passed through the lobby, instead using a side entrance, during their time at the base.

Off to one side of the lobby, four portraits hung from the wall. Redmack led them over.

“This is our memorial to our fallen,” Redmack informed them. “It’s not just you Europeans and the Joes who lose people.”

He indicated the first picture, which showed a dark skinned man in camouflage and a beret. The small plaque beneath the photo identified him as ‘Triton’.

“The sergeant here was killed not long after the unit was formed. Killed by Cobra de Aco, the Steel Cobra, during a Cobra attack in Buenos Aires,” Redmack explained.

He next turned his attention to the next photo, a dark hair man in green utility clothes. “Dragon, our anti-armour specialist. Assassinated by Ninja-Ku, the other assassin the local Cobras employ. That was two years ago.”

The final two photos showed a pilot and a sniper, both looking ready for action.

“Pegasus, one of our pilots, and Sureshot, our sniper. Both killed in an operation a couple of months back. Sacrificed themselves to take out Black Vulture and Flying Scorpion, two of Cobra’s worst killers. The same op left two other guys, Leontor and Tigor in hospital. Leontor may not survive and Tigor needs to learn to walk again, before he can ever rejoin the team.”

Scarlett spoke up, “We know it’s not just us who’ve lost members. The Oktober Guard lost two thirds of their roster a few weeks ago in Sierra Gordo. Colonel Brekhov, Schrage, Horror-show and Stormavik all sacrificed themselves to stop Cobra and its allies. Daina and Dragonsky are still trying to help put the unit back together.”

Quarrel spoke up next. “The Canadians lost a member last week, as well. Their unit’s barely been around a year.”

Scarlett looked shocked. “The Canadian Joe team?” she asked. “Who’d they lose?”

“Gray Jay,” Quarrel replied. “We had a report on it. They were investigating something called the Osiris Egg, which they thought was a warhead. It turned out to be a bio-weapon. Gray Jay was killed after being infected.”

“Damn,” Scarlett said quietly. “I never got a chance to meet him.”

“I didn’t know Canada had a team,” Redmack said softly.

“It’s still pretty new,” Quarrel answered. “Barely a dozen operators, but they’ve had some good success stories; not least of which was destroying most of Cobra North’s HATE tanks, capturing another four and the theft of the only extant Hailstorm jet and its blueprints thanks to a high-level defector.”

“What the heck is a HATE tank?” Stockade asked.

“HISS Assault Tank Elite, a new upgraded HISS, using technology stolen from a stealth aircraft,” Quarrel answered. “The point still stands, though, Redmack. All of us counter-Cobra teams have lost people; we’ve lost several in the last year alone, our Greek tank crew, our Italian radio operator, our Icelandic jeep driver, all killed. And that’s without losing several dozen others battling Ironblood as well as Cobra.”

Sentinel spoke up next, “Speaking of successes, you mentioned taking out Black Vulture and Flying Scorpion… Any other big wins for your team?”

Redmack nodded, “Yes. We’ve captured the local Cobra commander, a guy known as ‘Werewolf’, a sniper called Gatilho, a motorcyclist called Relampago and an urban warfare expert called Armadilha. They’re housed in a special prison. Cobra de Aco took over as leader after we caught Werewolf.”

He looked at the Europeans, “So, other than capturing Baron Ironblood, you guys got any big wins?”

“Sure,” Quarrel replied. “The Red Shadows are barely even a threat these days. Okay, Black Major and Red Laser are out there somewhere, but we took Red Jackal out and captured Red Vulture. A few of the Shadows defected to Cobra, like Bombshell, their anti-armour specialist, but most of them have given up or been captured.” She shrugged, “We stopped Cobra from destroying oil tankers in the Straits of Hormuz with mines, thwarted their attempt to seize a Mid-East oilfield, stopped most of their Italian ops, disrupted their North Africa ops, which included the death of a guy named Farouk. Saved the Eiffel Tower and London’s Wardour Street from bomb attacks, thwarted a major arms deal in London. Saved a space rocket from being blown up by Diamondback the Cobra saboteur. Smashed a Cobra ring in China with local help. I could go on.”

Redmack nodded. “Lot of success then, even if you haven’t captured their commanders.”

Stockade laughed. “Believe me, mate, our prison, the Dungeon, ain’t empty. Plenty of Shads and Vipers caged in there. Even if we ain’t bagged the Head Snake herself or her pals.”

“Head Snake herself?” Scarlett asked.

“Anna Conda,” Quarrel replied. “Cobra’s European commander. Her deputy is a mercenary and arms dealer who goes by the name ‘Hades’.”

“Oh, yes, I remember reading a report on them. I just got thrown for a moment by you calling her ‘Head Snake’, it’s what the Joes often call Cobra Commander,” Scarlett explained.

The next day

TF 282 Headquarters

The commandos assembled in a briefing room with the two Joes and the three Europeans. Redmack and El Coronel were at the front of the room.

“Alright, commandos,” El Coronel began. “We’ve got a mission for you. Thanks to the failed Cobra attack on our depot, we’ve been able to get a lot of intel from the corpses of the Invasors. Intel which indicates the Cobras are planning something at an abandoned factory in Punta Arenas. We’ve got a plan of attack and we’re going to crash their party. Redmack will brief you on the details.”

Redmack went on to explain which team members would deploy with which, how the team would get in to the area – by VAMP jeep and APC, with a pair of RAMs for support – and what opposition was expected.

The briefing over, the team left and headed for the armoury. Manleh led the visitors in selecting weapons; Law took an Uzi, his favoured weapon; Stockade and Sentinel took MP5 submachine guns; whilst Scarlett and Quarrel both opted for M16s.

The group filed out to the vehicles and Quarrel quickly took her place on one of the RAMs, whilst Stockade and Sentinel joined Redmack, SOS, Condor, Fuego, Topson, Estopim and Sokerk in the APC. Law rode shotgun in one of the VAMPs with Manleh, Shimik and Scarlett took the other VAMP, whilst Sparta rode the other RAM. Glenda was flying air cover in one of the commandos’ captured FANGs.

The convoy of vehicles left the base and headed for Punta Arenas.

As the vehicles sped through the city toward their target, several pedestrians shouted something in Spanish Scarlett didn’t catch. She turned to Shimik.

“What are they shouting?”

“Viva los Commandos Heroicos,” he answered. “The Argentinean media call us the Commandos Heroicos, the Heroic Commandos, after some of our high-profile missions were on TV. In Brazil, they call us ‘Commandos em Acao’ – Action Commandos.”

As the convoy arrived at the gates to the abandoned factory, the APC took the lead and smashed through the flimsy barrier. Once they’d entered the car park, Sokerk took up the gunner’s position in the APC to cover the rest of the unit as they dismounted and moved to assault the building.

Estopim planted a shaped charge on the main doors and then at Manleh’s signal, detonated it.

The doors flew inward in a cloud of smoke. The team moved in behind them.

Quarrel stuck close to Sparta as the Brazilian woman led the way in on the left. Sentinel and Stockade close behind. On the right, Condor, Fuego, Shimik and Law were moving in.

With no immediate threat, Scarlett, Manleh, Redmack and Topson moved in.

The team moved quickly through the building’s lobby toward the doors leading into the factory floor. Estopim moved up from covering the team’s backs and planted a second shaped charge.

As the doors blasted inward, gunfire erupted from inside the factory.

Fuego and Condor threw in flash-bangs before using the deafening boom and the blinding flash to dive in the doors and find cover.

“Multiple hostiles!” Condor shouted. “Invasors and Toxo-Vipers!”

The two paratroops began to lay down suppression fire allowing the team to move in and help them drive the Cobras back.

For the next two minutes, the commandos battled it out with the Cobra troops, killing several Invasors and Toxo-Vipers.

Manleh saw one Invasor trying to get around a rusted machinery bench and shoved Scarlett aside as he tried to stop the Invasor from hitting her.

A bullet sliced through his thigh and he fell back with a curse. Scarlett dropped the Invasor with a burst from her M16.

She ducked down next to Manleh and examined him. “You’re lucky,” she informed him. “Bullet’s gone clean through the fatty part of your leg.” Keeping pressure on the wound, she pulled a dressing from one of her though-pouches and slapped it onto Manleh’s leg, before retrieving a second from the Argentine’s own pockets and using it to cover the exit wound.

Sentinel was moving up to cover Manleh and Scarlett when a round hit him in his left arm. Swearing, he fired his sub-machine gun one handed as he dropped to one knee.

“I’m hit,” he called out. “Could use a hand here!”

Shimik and Redmack unleashed a hailstorm of automatic fire, dropping the Invasor who shot the MP and another three Cobras as they moved to help the Briton.

With the tide of the battle turning against them, the Cobras soon surrendered.

Whilst SOS tended to the two injured soldiers, Sokerk, Fuego and Condor set about restraining the Cobras; Shimik, Estopim and Law collected the weapons and Redmack, Quarrel and Scarlett began going through the documents they’d found in an office at the back of the factory. Law, Stockade and Manleh searched the rest of the building for more surprises.

Sparta and Glenda were now covering the factory entrance and waiting for the Argentine Army to arrive and help move the Cobras out.

All in all, everyone agreed it was a successful operation.

Redmack turned from the document he was studying as one of the Toxo-Vipers started mouthing off at Fuego. The soldier punched the terrorist and the Toxo-Viper shut up.

“Funny there’s so many Toxo-Vipers here,” Redmack commented. “We don’t see many of them. Most of Cobra’s forces are Eels, Invasors and regular Vipers.”

“I think I’ve found out why,” Quarrel commented. “Unless my Spanish is worse than I think, this document is a plan for shipping spent uranium fuel rods from Brazil’s nuclear research labs to a freighter for transport to Russia for disposal.”

Redmack cursed in Portuguese as he stood up and moved to Quarrel’s side. Looking over her shoulder, he saw that the document did indeed describe the plan for transporting the fuel rods to Rio de Janeiro and thence to Russia. Muttering a quick apology, Redmack took the card folder from her and quickly looked through the other sheets.

“Madre de dios,” he cursed, “We’ve got two of our team working on this mission with the Brazilian Army. We need to get back to base and tell El Coronel and warn them.”

Scarlett and Quarrel exchanged confused looks.

“Who have you got working this?” Scarlett asked. “I thought we’d met all of your team.”

“No,” Redmack answered. “Athena and TNT are on assignment to the Brazilian Army for the escort mission.”

The intelligence operative led the way out of the office and headed for the doors. The two women followed him.

Back outside, Redmack climbed into the APC and grabbed the radio and began reporting in.

TF 282 Headquarters

The following morning

Redmack was sitting in the base cafeteria drinking coffee when Stockade came in. The British MP walked over and sat down.

“Morning.”

Redmack nodded a reply as he swallowed some of the coffee.

“I’m confused,” Stockade said. “How many of there are you in this outfit? I thought we’d met you all.”

Redmack shrugged. “TF 282 was chartered with 21 principal operatives including El Coronel. He doesn’t get out into the field much, though. We’ve lost four operators and have two medically unavailable.”

Stockade mulled this over. “I’m coming up three short. Leontor and Tigor are in the med bay; Sureshot, Pegasus, Dragon and Triton are deceased; El Coronel, Glenda, you, Shimik, Manleh, Condor, Fuego, Estopim, Sokerk, Topson, Sparta… SOS?”

“Yes, he’s counted as a principal.”

“Who’re the other three?” Stockade asked.

“Athena, our counter-intelligence specialist, and TNT, our bomb disposal expert are the other two. They’ll be here later for the briefing. They’ve been on detached duty with the Brazilians for the mission to deal with the fuel rods.” Redmack took another drink.

“That’s still one short.”

Frowning, Redmack said, “That would be Electron. We don’t discuss him.”

“Why the hell not?” Stockade asked.

The frown turned to a scowl. “We don’t.” The American took another drink.

“So,” he said, changing the subject, “How many members has Action Force got?”

Stockade shrugged. “Several hundred. That’s in the front-line forces, not counting the ground crews for the aircraft, the majority of the medics, the armoury staff and so on. There are two tiers to Action Force, you see. Tier One is the principal force of one hundred thirty…” Stockade stopped. “Sorry. One hundred twenty-nine members. That’s split between the four forces; Z Force, SAS Force, Q Force and Space Force.”

Stockade paused, thinking. “Thirty countries represented. Sorry, twenty-nine. Fifty-five of the main force are Brits, like me. Thirteen Americans. Eight Spanish. The other countries being between four and one member.”

“You’ve got thirteen American members?” Redmack interrupted. “I thought you were a European outfit.”

“Principally, but we’ve operated all over. Asia, Africa, Australia. South America.” Stockade shrugged. “We’ve got members from all over. Australians, Canadians, a Zimbabwean, a Fijian, who was in the British Army. A Ghurkha. A Singaporean. A Russian. Few New Zealanders.”

“How’d you get Americans?” Redmack asked.

Stockade shrugged again. “Mainly by head-hunting them before the Joes can get them. A few volunteered. Some we got before the Joes. A couple we got under their noses. We’ve got several volunteers from all over. One’s a girl, barely twenty, who’s from Tawaichu. She was in high school in Japan when the Baron invaded, living over there with her dad. When she graduated, she didn’t go to uni, like she was supposed to. She went home, signed up for the local army, such as it is, and spent a few months with them before joining AF. She’s a black belt in Kendo, Ju-Jitsu, Japanese staff fighting and some other martial art I can’t pronounce. She’s in SAS Force now, Eagle took her in as his resident ninja or something.”

Redmack went to drink from his mug and realised it was empty. Putting it aside, he asked, “So what’s the second tier?”

“Tier two consists of the crew of the Q Force submarine, Nautilus. That’s a hundred and twenty more right there. Plus, SAS Force’s Hawk pilots, besides the principals, and a sixty-strong unit of Attack Troopers besides the eight in the main force. Z Force also has a back-up force of a hundred infantry troops, plus an extra nine tank crews and an assorted group of extra helicopter pilots for the Dragonflies and Tomahawks. Another five countries represented there, including a South Korean and a Turk. There’s also another five or six Space Force Conquest X-30 pilots if we need them.”

Redmack gave a low whistle. “That’s a lot of people.”

Stockade shrugged once more. “Aside from the Nautilus crew, most of them don’t see a lot of action… Well, other than that thing in the Mid East where we had to save the oil field. That was our biggest op lately.”

Several hours later, the commandos and their allies arrived at the Brazilian nuclear power plant. Two Brazilian Army jeeps and an APC were already at the plant to form part of the escort group. Manleh introduced TNT and Athena to Law, Quarrel and Stockade. Sentinel and Scarlett were flying over the plant in one of two Dragonfly helicopters being used to cover the convoy. Sentinel was a qualified helicopter pilot and had volunteered to fly the Dragonfly, despite having no experience of flying attack choppers. Scarlett was seated in the front, in the gunner’s seat. Glenda was flying the second Dragonfly with Sokerk as her gunner.

The convoy formed up, being led out by Estopim driving a VAMP Mk. II, with Stockade manning the jeep’s rocket launcher. Shimik and Fuego followed in a VAMP, then came the first Brazilian jeep, then a TF 282 APC, which Condor was driving, with Manleh, Topson, Redmack, Law and SOS aboard. Next was the cargo truck, flanked by two RAM cycles, which Sparta and Quarrel were riding. The Brazilian APC and the second Brazilian jeep followed the truck, with TNT and Athena bringing up the rear in a second VAMP.

High overhead, a Cobra Mamba helicopter was orbiting the convoy. A high-resolution video camera was aimed at the convoy as it made its way out of the plant and headed for the highway to Rio.

The Mamba’s pictures were being relayed to Cobra’s Brazilian base of operations.

“There they go,” commented a Tele-Viper as he and Cobra de Aco watched the convoy. “I sure wouldn’t want to hit a convoy with that much firepower.”

“Which is precisely why we aren’t going to,” the Steel Cobra growled in reply. “Far easier to attack the freighter at sea and seize the fuel rods than to try stealing it from under the noses of 282 and their North American allies.”

The black clad terrorist strapped on the yellow padded body armour he typically wore, before picking up his polished steel helmet and strapping it on. “Let’s get to the boat-yard and get ready to set sail.”

The Tele-Viper nodded and followed Steel Cobra.

It was nearly midnight by the time the convoy arrived at Rio de Janeiro’s docks. The commandos watched as the shipping container carrying the fuel rods was loaded aboard the freighter, with more creates being loaded around and atop it.

The massive cargo vessel was guided out of the harbour by tugboats before heading out into the Atlantic, still being shadowed by the two Dragonfly helicopters.

The freighter finally crossed into international waters around three o’clock in the morning and turned to head north-east toward the Canary Islands, on it’s long trek to Russia.

As dawn broke over the ocean, Glenda clicked her radio on.

“Dragonfly lead to freighter, we’re near to bingo fuel. We’re RTB in ten minutes.”

A radio operator acknowledged the message as Glenda brought the helicopter around to head back to the coast.

“Wait a second,” Sokerk said. “I’ve got something on the surface search radar. Lots of something.”

“What is it?” Glenda snapped.

“Multiple incoming fast-moving boats. Air-search radar has six airborne contacts also.”

“Contact Dragonfly Two, make sure Sentinel’s awake over there. I’m radioing Brazil.”

As the pilot began hailing the Brazilian base of Task Force 282, Sokerk radioed Sentinel.

“We’ve got them on radar,” Sentinel replied. “I’m going to swing out and take a look.”

“Copy that, standing by.”

The second Dragonfly sped across the ocean towards the contacts on its radar.

Sentinel asked Scarlett, “You see what they are?”

“Sure do,” the American replied. “Cobra FANGs, Morays and what look like red Moccasins.”

Sentinel cursed and reactivated his radio. “Dragonfly Lead, this is Two. We have a major Cobra assault force here. Thirty, repeat three-zero, Cobra naval craft and six FANGs.”

Glenda relayed the information to headquarters, the reply was swift and clear: destroy them.

The two helicopters closed in and Sokerk and Scarlett coordinated their actions to lock on to four of the FANGs, which they shot down with the Dragonflies’ four air-to-air missiles. The Dragonflies then closed in on the remaining two and the gunners opened fire with the 20mm chain guns in the chin turrets, shredding the small aircraft.

Glenda then brought her Dragonfly around and allowed Sokerk to launch the two air-to-surface missiles they carried, destroying two of the Moray hydrofoils.

Scarlett had had similar success with her missiles, before engaging another hydrofoil with the skid-mounted 40mm gun. The large calibre shells punched through the speeding craft’s hull and destroyed it in two shots.

The Invasor troops manning the gun turrets on the boats and hydrofoils began to elevate their guns and open fire, trying to shoot down the two helicopters.

“This is getting hairy,” Sentinel said as he slid the Dragonfly clear of one Moccasin’s line of fire, whilst Scarlett returned fire with the 20mm gun. The bullets punched through the boat’s gun turret and smashed apart the engine, detonating it.

“You’re doing well, so far,” Scarlett answered.

“Yeah, great for my first combat situation in an attack bird,” Sentinel said through gritted teeth as he lined the helicopter up on another Moray, which Scarlett destroyed with a 40mm shell.

Glenda and Sokerk were doing well, having sunk several Moccasins.

Suddenly, the odds caught up with Sentinel and one of the Moray’s stitched a line of bullets across the Dragonfly’s tail-boom.

“Dammit, we’re hit.” Sentinel said, wrestling with the controls. “I’m losing control. We’re out of this fight, Scarlett.”

“Okay, Sentinel, just don’t panic.” Scarlett activated her radio. “Dragonfly Two is hit. We’re out of here.”

Trailing smoke, the green helicopter headed back toward the Brazilian coast as Glenda’s helicopter shredded another Moccasin.

Glenda checked her fuel state. “We’ve got about two minutes before we need to bug out,” she told Sokerk. “We’re already past bingo fuel.”

“Roger… What the hell is that?!” Sokerk shouted as a yellow and blue blur raced past them.

The strange looking craft launched a pair of small missiles at one of the Morays, which promptly exploded. It had a yellow main fuselage, with an open cockpit and a windshield at the front, and blue swept-back wings. The pilot was visible behind the windshield in a bright yellow flight-suit and a blue helmet. Another man, wearing a similar yellow flight suit was seated at the back of the craft, manning a gun turret.

“''Dragonfly Lead, this is Flying Fish, suggest you RTB. Q-Force is on the case.”''

Before Glenda or Sokerk could reply, four small missiles erupted from the sea on columns of smoke and blasted apart a pair of Moccasins. Glenda could see the surviving Morays were moving close alongside the freighter and two speeding boats were racing in from the northeast. Both fired large anti-ship missiles at two more Moccasins and destroyed them.

“Roger, Flying Fish, we’re RTB. Looks like there are boarders on the freighter.”

“Copy that, Dragonfly, we’re on it.”

As the helicopter sped away, the Flying Fish craft sped across the freighter and sprayed a stream of bullets at the Invasor troops. One returned fire, but Glenda didn’t see any more as she raced back to the Brazilian shore.

Albatross, the Q-Force pilot of the Flying Fish brought the craft around for another pass as Mollusc prepared to cut loose with the 120mm ack-ack gun once more, but a bright beam of light flashed out from the freighter and hit his starboard engine. The engine exploded, prompting him to immediately shut it down and reduce the power on the port engine.

“Hang on back there, Mollusc,” he shouted to the saboteur. “We’re switching to naval mode!”

Albatross flicked a series of switches. The wings swept back into the fuselage and then two hatches popped open and a floatation ring rapidly expanded out and inflated. The Flying Fish hit the ocean swells as the two Q-Force Sea Lion submersibles surfaced and opened fire with their small pintle-mounted machine guns.

The two Swordfish boats had already accounted for another pair of Moccasins, and now, three of the Morays were pulling away from the freighter and speeding into attack.

On board the lead Swordfish, Broadside the pilot turned to Shark, his aquatrooper gunner, and snapped, “Get ready with the anti-torpedo hydro-jets!”

“Ready, mon Capitan!” the Frenchman answered.

The Moray launched its ‘Black Ray’ torpedoes and Shark waited for the few seconds it took for them to reach the right distance, then fired the two hydro-jet cannons which sprayed high-pressure jets of water into the torpedoes’ casings, detonating them a safe distance away.

Next to Shark, Tempest had his MP5 sub-machine gun at the ready and fired a long burst of automatic fire into the speeding hydrofoil as it flashed past.

“Forget that,” Broadside hollered to the third crewman, “Get ready to board the freighter!”

The Dutch aquatrooper saw that the other Swordfish, piloted by Mako was already pulling alongside one of the Morays. Manta and Riptide, the other two aquatroopers on the mission, had leapt from the Swordfish to the hydrofoil and were now scrambling up ropes to the freighter’s main deck.

Dolphin sped by, firing at another Moray in his Sea Lion as Broadside brought the Swordfish into the back of the Moray attached to the freighter with ropes. Shark and Tempest scrambled across, shot the Lampreys pilot and then made for the ropes.

As the four aquatroopers raced up the ropes, Mako looked up from piloting his Swordfish at the sound of helicopter rotors beating the air. It was a Tomahawk, hovering low over the freighter’s bow.

The large 282 numbers painted in white on the helicopter’s side identified it as belonging to the South Americans and the New Zealander felt better about leaving the aquatroopers when he saw the commandos beginning a fast-rope descent from the helicopter.

Law stuck close to Redmack as they hit the top of the shipping container the commandos were dropping on to.

“This is pretty hairy, mano,” the MP commented.

“Yeah,” the American intelligence expert replied, “Tell me about it.”

Both opened fire and cut down a pair of Cobra Eels before scrambling down a ladder built into the side of the container. Shimik and Manleh were already on the deck, moving aft on the starboard side. Fuego and Estopim were heading forwards, on the starboard side, so Redmack led Law forward on the port. Quarrel and Sparta were down next and headed aft on the portside.

The two women moved forward slowly and carefully, keeping their M16 assault rifles up and ready, checking the narrow lanes between containers and looking up at the tops of them. Halfway along, they met Shark and Tempest coming toward them, MP5 sub-machine guns at the ready.

“Fancy meeting you here,” Quarrel said, smiling.

“Indeed,” Shark answered. “It’s a coincidence, non?”

“Friends of yours?” Sparta asked.

“Meet Shark and Tempest,” Quarrel replied, gesturing to each in turn. “Two of Q-Force’s aquatrooper contingent.”

Sparta frowned. “What’s an aquatrooper?”

“Basically, a navy commando,” Shark told her, “But with the emphasis on the frogman role.”

“We’ve swept forward from the ropes where they came aboard,” Tempest interrupted, getting to the point. “Riptide and Manta have moved aft.”

“Law and Redmack headed forward from where we dropped on to the containers,” Quarrel said. “We want to either move into the centre or drop a deck and see what we can find.”

The clatter of automatic weapons fire, echoing off the crates cut off any further conversation.

Shark pointed toward the source of the gunfire and the group moved off, constantly checking around themselves.

The foursome dashed along a narrow passage between crates and came out into an open area around a large hatch in the deck. Five Invasors and three Eels were huddled behind what cover there was, engaging TNT and Athena.

The three Europeans and Sparta had popped out perpendicular to the Cobra troops, and they immediately opened fire. The Cobra troops were cut down in a hail of bullets.

As TNT and Athena moved to join the others, Sparta and Athena’s radios crackled.

“All teams check in,” said Manleh over the staticky channel.

“Athena here, we’ve just taken down eight Cobras. We’ve linked up with Quarrel and Sparta and two guys in yellow wetsuits.”

Sparta keyed her radio mike. “It’s two of Q-Force’s aquatroopers, Shark and Tempest,” she informed Manleh.

“Roger that,” Manleh answered.

“''This is Redmack, we’ve taken down four Eels. Moving to the bow.”''

''“Fuego here. We’ve taken down two Eels and four Invasors. Standing by near the superstructure.”''

''“This is Condor. We’re aft of the superstructure. Four Invasors down.”''

“Regroup at the superstructure,” Manleh ordered. “We’ll head below decks.”

Shark was frowning as Sparta led the group toward the large building-like construct that was the superstructure.

“What’s wrong, Shark?” Quarrel asked.

“Just wondering what happened to Manta and Riptide since none of the other teams reported meeting up with them.”

Once the commandos had gathered at the superstructure, they moved inside and began slowly making their way down to the first cargo deck below the hull.

They reached the door leading to the upper catwalks to find Manta and Riptide waiting for them.

Shark pushed forward, “Report.”

“We took down a pair of Invasors on our way here,” Manta replied. “We moved down here and we can hear a lot of talking going on inside.”

Shark exchanged glances with Manleh.

“Let’s get inside,” the commando said.

Riptide opened the hatch as slowly and quietly as he could. Then Shark and Tempest moved in first.

The two aquatroopers moved quietly forward, two Eels were standing further down the catwalk, with their backs to the door.

Across the hold, was another catwalk, with four Eels standing on it; they were too intently watching the activity on the main floor of the hold to notice the commandos.

Shark gestured toward the door, beckoning in Manleh and Shimik. The two soldiers moved in and took up positions, crouching and ready to fire. Fuego and Estopim came in next.

The six commandos took aim at the six Cobra frogmen and at Manleh’s nod, opened fire.

All six Eels fell to a three-round burst of gunfire to the head.

On the hold’s main deck, Cobra de Aco and several of the Invasors looked up.

“Get them!” the Steel Cobra screamed in Portuguese to his troops. They immediately opened fire, bullets clanging off the catwalk as the commandos returned fire.

Shark thought he saw a black-clad figure dash from the hold toward the door leading out into the main gangway but wasn’t sure. He concentrated on firing at one of the Invasors who carried a light machine-gun.

Cobra de Aco unslung his particle weapon and fired the so-called ‘laser rifle’ at the catwalk.

The bright beam sliced through the catwalk inches from Shark’s foot.

The French frogman shifted aim and fired at the strange figure with the yellow body armour.

The bullets pinged off the Steel Cobra’s steel helmet, staggering him, but not killing him.

Movement from the corner of his eye caught Shark’s attention and he looked across to the other catwalk to see Condor, Quarrel, Redmack and Sparta on the walkway, firing at the Invasors.

Shark fired again at the Steel Cobra, this time one of his rounds bounced off the mirrored lenses of the helmet’s visor.

Cobra de Aco reeled back from the impact before firing blindly back at the soldiers.

In the passage outside the doors to the catwalks, Athena and TNT were standing guard with Manta and Riptide when a black clad figure suddenly somersaulted through the doorway from the stairs leading down to the hold. Standing before the four commandos was Ninja-Ku, wielding two short swords.

“Surrender now, and I may spare your miserable lives,” Ninja-Ku demanded.

“Not bloody likely, mate,” Riptide answered, following his words with a burst from his MP5.

Some how, Ninja-Ku deflected the bullets but when TNT, Athena and Manta followed suit, the ninja was forced to dive back into the stairwell or be shot.

“Don’t just stand there like bloody lemons, after ‘im!” Riptide shouted as he charged to the stairs.

The others followed him down the stairs and along the passageway to the main hold.

Inside, Cobra de Aco was crouched between two crates, seeking what cover there was from the crossfire above.

Ninja-Ku suddenly appeared next to him.

“We need to get out of here, Master. There are more of them following me.”

The Steel Cobra pulled his polished steel helmet off with a wordless snarl. He grabbed his radio.

“Cobra de Aco to any Moray surviving. Come in,” he snapped.

Outside the freighter’s hull, two Morays had survived, along with a Moccasin, and had managed to cripple Mako’s Swordfish.

On board the lead Moray, an Eel received the Steel Cobra’s message.

“Bring us about and arm the J-180s,” he ordered the Lampreys pilot. “Lock on to the freighter and fire halfway up the hull.”

The Lampreys complied, the small retractable missile launcher box flipping up as the hydrofoil sped around to face the freighter. The Lampreys nodded to the Eel and a single J-180 missile streaked away from the Moray and detonated against the hull, blowing a large jagged hole in the hull.

Inside, the explosion threw the commandos and the Cobras alike off their feet.

The Steel Cobra was quick to recover and before anyone else could react, he sprinted across the hold, glancing up briefly toward Manleh and Shimik before leaping out the smoking hole toward the sea below.

Seconds later, Ninja-Ku followed him.

“That was him wasn’t it?” Shimik said to Manleh as the pair struggled to their feet.

Manleh shook his head, as he grabbed his radio, “Manleh to Q-Force, you need to stop that Moray. Fast!”

“Dolphin to ''Manleh, sorry boyo, but we’ve got our hands full with the other Moray and the last Moccasin. That hydrofoil lit out of here like his ass was on fire!”'' came the reply.

Manleh cursed.

“Who was that?” Tempest asked. “You said ‘that was him’. ‘Him’ who?”

“Electron.” Shimik answered as he turned to see the other commandos disarming and restraining the surviving Invasors. “Our traitor.”

“Traitor?” Shark asked.

“Yes. He was one of the Task Force once. Until he stole the laser rifle you saw him using and joined Cobra.”

Shark frowned. “That weapon looked a lot like the one that Joe, Flash, uses.”

“It would,” Shimik answered. “It was a copy. The Americans let us borrow it.”

Shark snorted. “They wouldn’t let Action Force have one. We had a guy lined up to use it and then they pulled the plug on the agreement at the last minute.”

Several hours later, the freighter limped back into Rio de Janeiro’s port, escorted by the Q-Force craft and with the now-refuelled helicopters hovering overhead.

The prisoners had been airlifted off by Tomahawk, but most of the commandos and the aquatroopers had remained on board.

As the freighter came alongside, the commandos gathered on the deck.

Manleh shook hands with the visiting Europeans and Law. “Good luck and may God be with you,” he said to each.

“What happens now?” Riptide asked Manleh as the gangway was brought up to allow the soldiers to disembark.

“The spent fuel rods will be taken off this freighter and put on another one for transport to Russia. This vessel’s going to be spending a few weeks having its hull repaired.”

“Pleasure working with you, mate.” Riptide said. “Just a shame Albatross and the Flying Fish were shot down, or we might’ve been able to get your traitor for you.”

Manleh shrugged. “We’ll keep trying to bring him down.”

Manta stopped next to them. “I just wish Razor and River had been around with the new Osprey jet,” the Norwegian said. “That thing could’ve sunk the Hydrofoil…”

“What’s an Osprey?” Manleh asked as the aquatrooper headed down the gangway.

“Modified F/A-18 Hornet,” Riptide replied. “New addition to Q-Force’s arsenal. Razor’s the pilot and his back-seater’s River.”

Manleh shrugged. “If we’re going to wish for anything, I wish the Joes had had their aircraft carrier around…”

Riptide snorted. “We did okay without them.”

Manleh silently agreed as the British aquatrooper walked off, but he knew with the USS Flagg escorting it, the freighter would never have been attacked.

Three days later.

The second freighter pulled out of Rio’s harbour and turned to head northeast across the Atlantic. This time, it was hoped, its cargo would make it to Russia safely…

To be continued…