Time: 0832. Location: South America, somewhere along the Amazon River.
The cell isn't cold, dank, ill-lit, or uncomfortable. In fact it isn't even a cell, it was the bunk of Viper Young before his untimely demise. There does remain a… lingering… odor but it's not intolerable. Sneak Peak thinks to himself, "It's not as bad as a wet yeti." For several months, this room has been his prison. Captured through sheer dumb luck Sneak Peek has continued in his attempts to gather information waiting for the day he can communicate with the PITT. He has investigated the ventilation ducts, which he came to the conclusion are not only too small to gain access to but also would never support him. Before putting him in the room the Vipers stripped it of every possible item that could be fashioned into a weapon. All that remained was the mattress, pillow, and wool blanket. He knows each and every nook and cranny, each crack in the wall and chip in the paint.
He came to learn the Vipers' schedule, at first, there was no pattern, they would feed him randomly sometimes it felt like only an hour had passed between meals other times days. He doesn't remember when the switch came but eventually, the guard rotation became more regular. His meals had more substance, and he was no longer given the bare minimum to sustain himself, they started providing him full meals. Sure they're essentially MREs but at least he now has the energy to maintain fitness. Pushups, sit-ups, jumping jacks, running in place, anything to help bide his time and keep his body ready for action. He was in the middle of one of his workouts when he heard keys in the door. Normally he would have been brought his meal when he was at sit-up 500. They didn't show. Now he had run more than 4000 lengths. He stopped in his tracks. Perhaps today was the day they decided to kill him, that would mean his only attempt to escape.
He watched as the door handle turned. The door opened. In stepped a man. A plain, average-looking man. His pinstriped suit was pressed to perfection. His shoes gleamed from many long nights of polishing. The recognition of the man was near instant. Before he could even react the man said with a strong clear voice, "Sneak Peek. So very good to see you again." The look of disbelief was plainly apparent on the face of the long-time captive. "Well, aren't you going to say anything?"
Stepping forward he reaches out and places his hand on the man's shoulder, "Chuckles, is it really you?"
"Who else would it be?"
"Is it over? Are those things still out there? You know what, it doesn't matter. Let's get out of here. I need to get to a computer and send a message off to the PITT."
"I'm afraid you won't be doing anything of the sort." In the time it took Sneak Peek to blink the look in the Joe's eyes went from welcoming to one that was dark and devoid of all emotion.
Taking his hand down he looks at his teammate confused, "What do you mean man? I have to get out of here and report in."
"No Sneak Peak. You don't. But don't worry all isn't lost… Yet."
The look makes the hair on the back of Sneak Peek's neck stand up. Stepping back he puts distance between himself and the man in front of him. They had worked together on several Operations in the past, last he knew Chuckles was deep undercover in Cobra in an attempt to get close to and assassinate Cobra Commander, what happened since the plagues hit he had no idea. Unsure of what to say or do Sneak Peek asks, "What's going on Chuckles?"
"I'll keep it simple. I'm here to offer you a way out of this room. A way to once again put your talents to work. I'm here to offer you a choice. It is really quite a simple choice. You see, the world as we once knew it is no more. There is no more PITT to check into. In fact, there is no more G.I.Joe. Ha. What a name. "G.I.Joe" sounds like the name of a toy line, who names a "Top Secret" Special Operations Group "G.I.Joe"? I digress. Out there, Owen, you don't mind if I call you Owen, do you? Of course, you don't. Out there, beyond the walls of this bunker, the world is, pardon the language, it's shit. Do you know why? You might think it's because of the zombies, I still hate that term but there is no other more fitting, there I go again… Where was I? Oh yes, the world is shit. Not because of the zombies. No. It's because of greed. When the first incidents were being reported, rather than addressing the situations immediately and letting the people know what was going on the governments of the world protected themselves and their rich friends. Oh, they'll have you believe that had they told the truth people would have rioted and revolted. That anarchy would take over. Who are they trying to kid? A fateful day in September showed us what people are capable of doing when the worst happens. A hurricane showed us what the government is incapable of doing, or perhaps more accurately would rather not deal with. Have you ever wondered why after the towers fell the response from the government was immediate however even having had days of warning and time to prepare the government was completely inept? That's a discussion for another day. When this all began the governments of the world could have protected people. Instead, they protected their personal interests. I assure you that many politicians along with their wealthiest donors are quite safe holed up in safe zones. The citizens were left to fend for themselves. Left to die.
My father, the Commander…
You look surprised Sneak Peek. You mean you didn't see that coming? I guess you left your periscope back at base.
Yes, I assure you he is my father. I guess I never mentioned that. How could I? 'Well guys I'm glad you think I'm capable of tracking down Cobra Commander and killing him but somehow killing my dad just doesn't sit well.' How do you think Hawk would have reacted to that? Knowing that his "most trusted" undercover agent was in fact the son of the man he was sent to investigate and assassinate." Chuckles / Agent X 99 eyes light up as a look of amusement shows on his face. Just as quick as it came he shakes it away, his eyes once again showing a venomous look.
Chuckles clears his throat and continues on, "Well, my father has been planning for this day a very long time. He knew that the greed of the world would eventually lead to its downfall. He figured the United States would end up provoking one of "those" countries into nuclear war, What he actually predicted was that the United States would set off a dirty bomb in a major city and claim it was some "terrorist" group and use that as an excuse to launch. Instead, the dead began to rise.
My father is quite the remarkable man, while you and the Joes were busy fighting his blue shirts and Vipers he was installing cells all around the United States. World conquest was never his goal. No, it was simply the downfall of the United States. He knew it would come and while he had military minds around the world running after soldiers wearing bright blue uniforms he had his most valuable assets and troops hidden in the shadows. Some were right out in the open. Others, like myself, were inside providing him information and intelligence while feeding you what he wanted you to know." As he stares at Sneak Peek, Chuckles' eyes take on a look of self-satisfaction. "You'd think someone in the intelligence world would have questioned the motives of a man who sends his troops to battle in bright blue. Bright blue for crying out loud." The look on his face becomes quizzical as a thought passes through his mind. "Wait… one did. Some poor sap in the FBI wrote up a psychological profile of my father along with several predictions about the true motives of Cobra, he was surprisingly accurate with some of them. I made sure he was reassigned to a desk job in Alaska. The poor fellow was eaten by a Polar Bear.
Before I go on any further, let me assure you your being assigned here was no accident. You are here because you are valuable. Of all the Joes, you are one of a select handful, who has the potential to do great things.
Which brings us to your choice.
You have two options.
The first option is I can kill you. However, death will not come quickly. I will make certain that by the end you beg and pray for it to end.
The second option, the one I hope you will seriously consider, join my father. Join Cobra.
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