Fort Laramie in 1868, the United States recognized the Black Hills as part of the Great Sioux Reservation.
Time: 0037 Location: Bad Lands, South Dakota
For many hours two men have been tracking a quarry whose identity they are unsure of. Each has his suspicions. What they both agree on is that nature is not herself this fine night. The air lacks the buzz of life. The younger attributes it to the conflict below them. The elder has no word for what might be causing this most unusual of behaviors of the denizens of the Bad Lands.
"There. Look."
"I see him."
The expert tracker and spotter have finally found the quarry they have been following for the last 12 hours. It has been no easy task, trying to track a target while a war rages between the United States and the Sioux Nation yet, they have avoided being seen. Now they stalk their prey, hoping that by capturing the "wild man in the mountains" they can bring this escalating battle to its resolution.
Without a word, Dart circles around the target as Spirit remains. These two work in perfect harmony with each other and their surroundings. They know each move the other will make the only unknown is the target. They have watched as the hard-to-track trail became clearer. Footmarks dragging across the dirt, a growing number of broken branches, blood spots on the foliage tell the duo that their target is injured and growing weak. This makes him a variable to their plans. How he will react to being captured, they can only guess. As each man readies himself for the inevitable fight, there is a sudden change in the behavior of their target. His masked face raises and begins to turn toward the location of Spirit. Before the two can react, he disappears from sight.
"What just happened?"
The two enter the small clearing where the man they were tracking just vanished from.
"There is only one man who could do what we just witnessed."
"Zartan."
"You are correct, Dart. But why here and why now? He could have easily slipped out of the area at any given time."
"Perhaps his injuries prevented him?"
"His injuries… I don't believe he was injured at all. I believe we have been set up, my friend."
"What do you think we should do."
"Stay and wait."
"I apologize, but I have to ask, why?"
"Zartan would not have gone through all this trouble unless there was a reason. That he didn't fight speaks volumes. You have not had the dealings with the master of disguise as I have. He is honorable in combat. There is a reason he led us here. We must discover what it is. Prepare a fire. I fear we shouldn't have to wait long."
A small, easily concealed fire is built while the two wait. Each listening to the eerie silence of the wood. A short time later, out of the surrounding bush comes a sound that turns the men to stone. A sound that neither have ever heard made by a creature of this world. With a look, the two know what they will do. Out of the bushes stumbles another. In the dim moonlight, the attire of this new antagonist is missed by both men. They only notice that this man is in all black. They prepare.
"Uggghhh" The bellowing moan coming from the man makes the hair of his hunters stand on end, yet they are not stopped. Dart reaches his mark sweeping the legs out from under him while turning his body away from Spirit. Spirit is upon him before he hits the ground driving his knees into the man's lower back. The only reaction is the continued moaning and struggling. Each hunter attempts to secure their area; Spirit the hands, Dart the legs. Securely bound, they roll the man over on his back.
"Holy shit! It can't be!"
Staring up at them, through a slitted visor is a man the two thought of as a friend. The lower portion of his mask torn away, his jaws distended, a low snarl snarl coming from his throat.
"He's injured. Untie him, Dart. We must help him."
Dart immediately cuts the bonds off his friend's ankles.
"I have to set you up to cut your bonds, my friend. Had we known it was you, we would not have been so rough."
Spirit raises his long-time colleague and begins to turn him to cut his bonds. At the same time, the man turns jaws snapping at the hand of his friend. Dart reacts, pulling Spirit away. Their injured friend struggles to get to his feet.
"He's obviously delirious. We must get him medical attention."
Dart has no chance to respond as their wounded comrade charges him, mouth wide, saliva flying wildly. Dart sidesteps the attack again, sweeping his legs. This time the man regains his footing quicker only to have Spirit rush him from behind, forcing him back to the hard earth-facedown.
"I do think we may have acted hastily. He is acting like a wild animal. Perhaps he has been bitten by a rabid inhabitant of the mountains?"
"Whatever it is, I say we retie his legs."
"No. He is our friend, he is injured, he deserves to be treated respectfully. We will keep his hands tied to help prevent further injury. He will need his legs to walk."
Again Spirit tries to raise his friend to his feet. Again the man tries to attack him. The unanticipated action knocks Spirit to the ground. His friend is upon him, snapping at him like a mad dog. Spirit struggles to hold him at bay.
"He's trying to kill you."
"Dart, I can not do what I would ask of you."
The request is met with the quick blade of the Dakota warrior. The head of Snake Eyes falls to the ground, teeth still gnashing, still striving to sink into the soft flesh of its intended victim.
"What monster is this?"
"I do not know Dart. But it does not bode well for those below us."
As the teeth snap, Dart kicks the head of his former friend into the fire.
Time: 1200 Location: Bad Lands, South Dakota
Highway 17, once a quiet stretch of road full of beautiful vistas. Now home to a growing military, news, and civilian "town."
"The Battle at Crazy Horse has been raging for several days now. What started out as an investigation into a suspected terrorist attack against a Native American monument turned deadly when federal agents from FEMA the Department of Homeland Security, and the FBI were murdered on live television after offering help to the local Sioux Tribal Council.
The Department of Homeland Security activated the National Guard before the outbreak of violence. The National Guard then found itself under attack."
___
"How did he get here?!"
"We sent Snake Eyes! He's the best. At least that's what we thought."
"Snake Eyes is a Joe."
"Don't be naive. Do you think the federal government would waste a talented asset like Snake Eyes with mere military actions? He's down more wet work for us than any other operative."
"Why him. Why not send Spirit or me?"
"Because you couldn't get the job done."
"How do you know?"
"Because the job was to kill everyone who may have come in contact with or been exposed to the subject. Man, woman, child. Take a look at yourself. Take a look at what you've already done. Do you really think we could have trusted you to kill these people?"
"You bastard."
:Blam:
A single gunshot rings out as the agent's head flies back as the bullet exits his skull.
"Spirit, what have you done!?!?"
"I have done what we should have done a long time ago. I have retaken my freedom. For far too long, I believed my actions were those of the right and just. I believed I was mending relations between people. The reality is I was a mere puppet. A puppet of men like Agent Rogers. Now I… No, we must take back what is ours before we fall into oblivion."
___
Time: 1700 Location: Bad Lands, South Dakota
"We have just received confirmation that the leaders of the most recent massacre are highly decorated soldiers. Members of the elite G.I.Joe Team. Operatives Charlie Iron-Knife and Jimmy Tall Elk, Spirit and Dart, were seen on video footage that was broadcast live just hours ago through our local affiliate, slitting the throats of several restrained federal agents. The gruesome transmission was quickly cut off due to its highly graphic nature."
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