A single bare light bulb flickers over the small desk littered with various papers; reconnaissance reports the Joes have gathered in their rebellious fight against Cobra. Vital details on enemy movements, photographs offering glimpses of New Springfield defenses, hand-drawn maps showing strategic routes and potential ambush points, and a collection of heavily used and marked-up yellowing road atlases cover the well-worn surface.
The walls of the claustrophobic space, stained with water damage from unrepaired leaks, are covered in an array of additional documents, drawings, and maps to supplement the scattered piles on the desk. Every inch of space is a tool for the non-stop planning that has dominated Falcon's waking hours.
As he stands among the jumble, anxiously scrutinizing the Joe Team's first major offensive against Cobra, doubt clouds his mind. He finds himself second-guessing every decision, mentally replaying every choice, weighing the risks and rewards, and questioning his strategy. A knock at the door interrupts his thoughts. "Come in," He replies, his voice steadier than he feels. Scrounge opens the door. Without looking up, Falcon waves him into the cramped room.
"Sir," Scrounge takes it all in and pauses to clear his throat, "I sent everything to my handler." Unbeknownst to Cobra, their trusted operative secretly played a much more dangerous game as a double agent. For over a decade, Scrounge had served as a Cobra Range Viper. He had been south of the border in Central America on R&R when the world collapsed. The last order he had received from Cobra Commander had been to regroup in New Springfield. He had set out at once. Along the way, he ran into a Swamp Viper making the same excruciating pilgrimage. They were among the first to arrive. He watched Cobra rise from the destruction of the old world. With Cobra Commander's arrival, he witnessed a mighty civilization grow from the ashes of the apocalypse. He rejoined the ranks of the Range Vipers led by the ruthless Skullbuster, the Joe formerly known as Outback. Their primary task was clearing territory and gathering supplies for Cobra. Every mission brought them one step closer to Cobra Commander's triumph. The Range Vipers rescued countless civilians, taking them out of hell and bringing them into the light that was New Springfield. He was loyal to the core and believed wholeheartedly that G.I. Joe represented the ultimate threat beyond even that posed by the undead. The thought of infiltrating the rebels had ignited a spark of excitement within him.
However, everything changed the day he stood before a fresh mass grave of those Cobra Commander had discarded without a second thought. Men, women, children, the elderly, and anyone considered a liability had been unceremoniously thrown into the water-filled hole. Their dead eyes pierced the veil of Scrounge's mask. The Joes had heard the shots as they were scouting the area and immediately made their way in the direction they had come from. Cowardly Cobra Troopers were fleeing the bloody scene, and the Joes fired on them. Scrounge picked up one of the shells that had been spent, still warm and smelling of gunpowder from being freshly fired. That chilling sight had awoken a stirring in his conscience, leading him to seek out Falcon.
That late evening meeting had changed everything for Scrounge and Falcon, starting an unlikely alliance. Together, they orchestrated a series of elaborate deceptions, crafting faulty intelligence that Scrounge would relay to his Cobra handler. These fabricated reports included locations of attacks that never happened and detailed plans designed to mislead and manipulate Coba's movements. While Cobra was preoccupied with waiting for an attack that would never come, the Joes could strike smaller targets with less resistance. Each piece of misinformation was carefully designed to protect their true objective, disrupting Cobra from within while gradually revealing the dark underbelly of the organization Scrounge had once served.
Falcon lifts his head and locks his eyes on the man standing before him. Scrounge shuffled nervously, "Sir, thank you for giving me a chance."
It hadn't been easy for Falcon. His initial instinct had been to draw his pistol and end the conversation with a single shot. But something in Scrounge's voice, perhaps a flicker of honesty, or maybe it was Falcon's own desperation, had stayed his hand, pulling him back from the edge of that decision.
"You're absolutely sure you told me everything you know?" His voice was void of emotion.
"Yes, sir."
"There's nothing else I should be aware of? I don't like surprises, especially ones that endanger my team," Falcon stares at the man, his eyes trying to drill into the Range Viper's soul.
"I've told you everything that I know," to his credit, Scrounge meets Falcon's steely gaze not with defiance but sadness.
Now, as the dawn of the War With Cobra loomed heavy on the horizon, the lives of each member of the Joe team seemed to rest precariously on the fragile word of a Range Viper. This was just one of many troubling decisions that haunted Falcon in the quiet hours of the night, stealing his sleep and peace of mind.
"This better go according to plan," Falcon replied, his tone grave and unyielding.
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