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“Five minutes to touch down, sir.”

Five minutes feels like an eternity even after hours in the air. The moment or your ascension is here and it’s hardly as ostentatious as you would like. Crowded into the sparse cargo hold of a transport plane you feel more like a refugee than a man about to steal an army.

You turn to face your subordinate, his face reflecting back at himself from your mirrored faceplate. “Major Bludd, see that the other planes are ready for our assault.” Your voice betrays no anxiety or excitement.

“Right away.” Bludd is a mercenary, but a fine one at that. It wasn’t easy finding men with the same combination of a lack of scruples and skill that he possessed. The Australian Special Air Services’ loss is your gain. Bludd moves through the hold of the aircraft, checking each group of dark-clad Cobra troopers he passes. Mercenaries, thugs, killers, thieves, sycophants and sheep, your force is an eclectic combination of the sadistic, the greedy, the desperate and the downtrodden.

All these men and women brought together by your hand, your vision. A vision of hegemony, a vision of the future with you at the top and them by your side. So far you’ve ecked out a decent following, three battalions of loyal soldiers who will fight and die at your command. An impressive rise for someone who began their working career as a software salesman. This would be an end goal for virtually any other run of the mill warlord. But not for you.

“Ghost Bear’s battalion reports readiness, sir,” Major Bludd says on returning to you. “All transport planes are ready for action.”

(1/2)

“Bamenda will be picking us up on radar soon,” you say, “And wondering who in the hell we are. We’ll have to move quickly. You understand your role?”

If Bludd is offended that you’d question him he doesn’t show it. “I’m to take my battalion north of the airfield and secure the base facilities, destroy communications relays and radar facility, as well as any anti-air batteries that might hinder our escape.”

“Excellent. With the West African military preoccupied with your raiders I will seize the armored battalion’s equipment for our escape. Ghost Bear will capture the hangars and a flight of combat aircraft. The Rattlers.” The plan. Simple enough, but one that will turn your hyped up gang into a true army.

You feel the plane shift directions, engines straining as it comes around for final approach to the airfield.

“Ensure your raiders are ready, Major,” you instruct before making your own tour of the cabin. The forward part of the cargo hold is mostly taken with Ghost Bear’s battalion. The troops you pass look busy checking weapons and gear, a few give you nervous or awed glances, none are bold enough to speak to you.

You spot Ghost Bear by the necklace of bones and small animal skills draped around around his neck. He is surrounded by his personal team of killers, a small group of Inuit hunters who, like him, hail from the Russian-side of the Bering strait. One of them, a man with long, raven-black hair, watches you pass, you note the words ‘Poor Impulse Control’ tattooed prominently on his forehead.

“Commander,” Ghost bear greets, removing the magazine from his rifle and checking his rounds before replacing it.

“Your battalion is ready?” you ask.

“Always,” he says.

“I expect speed and skill, Ghost Bear.”

Ghost Bear gives you a tight, humorless smile. “You will receive the very best, Commander.”

You turn to walk away when Ghost Bear rises to join you. “I have no qualms with these people,” he says, voice low. “The West Africans. When will we strike a blow at [i ]my[/i] enemies?”

His personal vendetta with the Russian, Canadian, and American governments is well known to you. A hate born in a bed of centuries of maltreatment and neglect brought to life with a singular spark of rage.


>My enemies ARE your enemies. You’ll go where I send you and you will do as I say.
>Patience, Ghost Bear, this is just the first blow in our war. Soon enough.
>Think of what a blow you can strike with an arsenal of military-grade weapons behind you
>Write in

>>4439598
>Think of what a blow you can strike with an arsenal of military-grade weapons behind you

Aw yiss

>>4439598
>Patience, Ghost Bear, this is just the first blow in our war. Soon enough.
>Think of what a blow you can strike with an arsenal of military-grade weapons behind you
Both of these things go well together.

>>4439598
>Think of what a blow you can strike with an arsenal of military-grade weapons behind you

>>4439606
>>4439608
>>4439611

>Writing

“Ghost Bear,” you say with mock care, “I don’t expect you to keep the bigger picture in mind at all times, but surely someone with your background can imagine the sort of blow you can strike with an arsenal of military-grade weapons behind you.”

Ghost Bear wrinkles his normally blank face into a scowl. “I don’t intend to wait forever, Cobra Commander,” he returns your title in a way that conveys no respect. “I believe in your vision but I am not powerless without you.”

You smile at him from behind your face plate. It’s a smile devoid of mirth, the grin of a predator. Ghost Bear of course doesn’t see it. “We’ll see,” you reply. “For now, patience.”

He snorts.

You look at the others in his strike team, most of whom look away at your gaze. These are men thirsty for blood, hungry for a fight. With careful steps you make your way back to the center of the plane where your battalion waits. The remaining minutes ticket by quickly and you check your own weapon in the moments before the landing. It’s a simple MARS Industries automatic rifle. While you are a leader, you’re certainly not afraid to fight when you have to, though your strength isn’t combat prowess as much as it is cult of personality.

“Stand ready! Bludd Assault Team, weapons ready!” Major Bludd calls.

A moment later the plane jolts as its tires touch down, then the scream of brakes and roar of engines as it decelerates rapidly.

“Hold!” Bludd calls.

You grip a handhold nearby to avoid falling over as the troopers in the back jostle into one another with the rattle of body armor and weapons.

The interior lights switch off long enough for you to acclimate to the dark before the ramp drops, opening on a dry, dusty, night.

(1/2)

File: Bamenda airbase.jpg (59 KB, 1000x562)

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“Cobra!” Bludd shouts, sprinting down the plane’s ramp followed by his raiders, each with the battle cry of your organization on their lips.

You follow them out into a storm of laser fire, most of it yours, deadly blue bolts lashing out from the troops spilling out of the black-painted cargo planes to strike at the control tower and base facilities.

You race over to cover beside a burning jeep and kneel down, popping off a few rounds toward the enemy before taking stock. Bludd’s team is pressing on into the base itself, cutting down the bewildered defenders where they find them with the sort of fury you’d come to expect from him and his men. Behind you the quintet of transport planes you brought land in sequence, taxiing around to line up in anticipation of loading stolen weapons and tanks.

Ghost Bear and his battalion press on toward the distant fighter hangars while your own battalion forms up around you.

A trio of red bolts flash out of the dark and burn down two of your troopers. One falls face first with the sort of limpness that only instant death can bring, the other falls screaming, grabbing at a smoking crater on his knee. It was only for the grace of his battle armor that the leg was saved.

A number of your troopers stop their firing to hurry to aid their wounded comrade.


>Leave him! We have to get to those tanks before the base defenders do!
>Two of you take him back to the planes, the rest with me!
>Make it back on your own, trooper, or don’t bother coming back
>Write in

>>4439647
>Two of you take him back to the planes, the rest with me!

>>4439647
>Two of you take him back to the planes, the rest with me!

>>4439647
>Two of you take him back to the planes, the rest with me!
As long as he can shoot and hop around.

>>4439656
We can also strap him to a computer and have him run intel

>>4439658
Or we could make a cyborg soldier out of him.

>>4439649
>>4439655
>>4439656

>Writing

>>4439658
>>4439659
Or you know . . . get him medical aid and help him along through physical rehabilitation. But chopping up his brain is fine too, I'm sure he won't mind.

>>4439662
He knew what he was getting into, or he will know now

>>4439662
We can make him harder! Bigger! Better! and give him a bigger dick

Hmmmm Turbokiller? Sounds suspiciously similar to TimeKiller

>>4439667
What is his new code name?

>>4439665
He should have read the fine print.

>>4439668
Sounds sexy.

>>4439668
Who

>>4439670
Juggernaut

A wounded man would slow you down, and leaving a qualified trooper to die would be a waste of training. “You two!” you point out the two nearest men, “Get this one back to the planes, the rest of you with me!”

You lead your strike team further along the complex, occasionally trading fire with the air base security or pausing to terminate exposed personnel. The speed and surprise of your attack has ensured that there is virtually no resistance.

An explosion from nearby the control tower reminds you that Bludd’s raiders are also wreaking havoc of their own, they’ll surely draw off any security personnel before your team does.

When you reach the armor depot, the sounds of fighting are softer, quieted by distance, almost an afterthought to you.

“Get these open, now!” you bark.

Your troopers fan out, igniting cutting torches to burn open locks and latches to get at the prizes within. Sweat-sheened brows are illuminated by the harsh glare of the torchlight as metal sizzles and melts. The doors are rolled open and you see the contents of the warehouses. For a beat, you hang in limbo before feeling relief. The tanks are here, just as you’d hoped.

“Get these back to the planes, go!”

Troopers scrambled aboard the tanks, closing hatches behind themselves while other men grab fuel canisters and crates of spare parts, all the ingredients needed to keep a tank battalion operating.

With a roar of diesel fumes the first tank rumbles out of the warehouse and into the moonlight. It’s old, almost a relic, but it’s a battle tank. Of course it’s nothing like the sort of cutting edge weaponry a supplier like MARS produces, but it will grant you never-before imagined firepower.

Singly at first, then in pairs, and finally in a flood, the tanks roll out, treads squeaking and clanking as they make best speed back for the planes. A few of the commanders salute you from the open copulas as they pass.

(1/2)

A fireball climbs into the sky from the main base, drawing your attention back to the fight.

“SAM sites cleared out,” Major Bludd says, his voice fuzzy on your radio.

“Excellent. Resistance?”

“Pitiful, less than we expected,” Bludd says.

“Good work, Major. Get your men together and fall back to the planes. We have the tanks. Ghost Bear, what’s your status with the fighters?”

There is a moment of silence, then another, long enough for you to worry before Ghost Bear responds. As his channel opens you can hear the sounds of intense fighting. “Pinned down near the main maintenance hangar,” Ghost Bear says, voice strained. “Looks like special forces on us. We can’t get clear.”

“Can you get to the fighters?” you ask, anxious.

“No way. Not without some backup. We’re stuck tight.”

The loss of the jet fighters would sting, but they weren’t your primary goal anyway, in fact, Ghost Bear’s battalion being cut off and heavily engaged with special forces means you can make a perfect, clean getaway with the tanks. Of course it would cost you Ghost Bear and his men, nothing that can’t be replaced in time.

You toggle your radio to Bludd’s private channel, “Your opinion, Major?”

“Leave the bastard,” Bludd says “As long as it’s him fightin those spec ops it’s not us. Our window for a clean escape is shrinking fast.”

“But can you reach him?” you ask.

A pause. “I can get to the Rattlers and get those fighters out. It’ll take some time, someone’ll need to guard the planes, but I can’t reach Ghost Bear from my position. I’d walk into the same trap. Maybe your battalion can get to him and get him clear while I steal the Rattlers.”

“You can do that before enemy reinforcements arrive?” you ask.

“No promises,” Bludd says. “And if no one’s watchin the bleedin planes we might find ourselves short a ride home. If the air force shows up we’re going to be sitting ducks.”


>Leave Ghost Bear and escape without the Rattlers
>Send Bludd to get the Rattlers himself while you guard the evac planes
>Send Bludd to get the Rattlers while you extricate Ghost Bear and leave only a skeleton force to guard your planes
>Write in

>>4439670
Taipan, of course!

>>4439697
Can we use the tanks to blindside the special forces?

>>4439670
You know what would be sexy? Roses

>>4439697
>>Send Bludd to get the Rattlers while you extricate Ghost Bear and leave only a skeleton force to guard your planes

>>4439697
>Send Bludd to get the rattlers while your tanks extricate Ghost Bear. Your infantry will stay behind to guard your planes.

>>4439707
Definitely possible, but doing so will take time to coordinate. It runs the risk of your clean escape window closing.

>>4439697
Comandeer one of the tanks with some guys to lead a charge into the special forces. they wil have to decide between attacking the tank or Ghost Bear forces.
If they doubt, they die. If they fight, they will probably die anyway and Ghost Bear gets to live.
If we lose a tank, we will get to have Ghost Bear's group, his loyalty, the planes. All at the cost of one tank and a few guys.

>>4439697
>Send Bludd to get the Rattlers while you extricate Ghost Bear and leave only a skeleton force to guard your planes
:-P

>>4439719
A single tank likely wouldn't be enough to turn the tide here. You'd need to make a substantial commitment. It would take the bulk of your battalion to attack and extricate Ghost Bear, even with the tanks. Do you want to commit to that?

>>4439697
>>Send Bludd to get the Rattlers while you extricate Ghost Bear and leave only a skeleton force to guard your planes

>Leave a skeleton force and attack
>>4439708
>>4439724
>>4439754

>Writing

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“We need those fighters, Major,” you say “And we need Ghost Bear.”

“Do we?” Bludd asks.

“We do for now. Now move, get your men to those Rattlers and get airborne at once.”

“Yes, sir,” Bludd replies.

You kill the channel and address your forces, half of which are now mounting armored vehicles. “We’re going to have to free our allies from a trap they’ve wandered into.” You sling your rifle and climb atop one of the nearest tanks. “Armored forces proceed east! The rest of you, return to the planes and secure them.”

The battalion splits and you advance on Ghost Bear’s position with all the speed these aging tanks can muster. As you draw nearer, so do the sounds of battle. You pass the carnage left in Ghost Bear’s wake, dead base security troops and personnel litter the ground around burned out equipment, then you start to encounter batches of dead Cobra troopers. The fighting through here was fierce and sapped much of Ghost Bear’s battalion’s strength. A moment later your lead tank rounds a maintenance shed to come into sight of Ghost Bear and his remaining troops pinned down around scattered helicopter and civilian plane wreckage.

“Fire!” you shout, gesturing toward the half-glimpsed special forces troops.

The main guns of your tanks boom in near-synchrony, the shells going wide, smashing infrastructure beyond the enemy. It seems like your troops will need more time to familiarize themselves with these unfamiliar weapons.

Return fire is swift in coming, laser bolts arcing around you and a rocket propelled grenade striking the front armor of one of your tanks and exploding.

You seize the roof-mounted machine gun and swing it to bear on the enemy, firing a continuous burst along their positions, forcing them into cover.

Ghost Bear doesn’t wait, instead with a command he sends his surviving men fleeing to cover behind your tanks as the enemy special forces draw back quickly in the face of your overwhelming, if inaccurate, firepower.

A few more main guns fire, blowing a parked fuel truck apart and lighting a stretch of pavement on fire.

“Rattlers are taking to the air now, sir,” Major Bludd reports over your radio.

“Good, we have Ghost Bear and are drawing back now.”

(1/2)

An explosion from the direction of your waiting cargo planes draws your attention.

“We might have run out of time,” Bludd says.

“I’ll worry about that,” you say, “Just get the job done, Major.” You don’t wait for an answer and instead stick your head into the open turret hatch, “Get this thing back to our planes, now!”

You see a second explosion before you reach the tarmac. Two of your cargo planes are in flames, the other three under fire from counter attacking base security. Your heart races, those planes are your only ticket out of here. “Stop them!” you cry to your men, “Stop them before they trap us all here!”

The tanks fire again, engines straining as they roar forward, treads crushing discarded weapons and destroyed vehicles. Laser fire splashes across the armor of the tank you’re riding on and you return the favor with a long burst from your machine gun, targeting the upper windows of the control tower.

A moment later Bludd’s troops descend on the enemy from behind, clearing them out with short but intense close combat.

“Clear, sir!” Bludd says to you, stepping over a dead security soldier. “We’ve got a squadron of Rattlers in the air.”

“We’re two planes short,” you say with a scowl, observing the burning wreckage.

“We’re gonna have to leave some tanks behind then I think,” Bludd says with a look at Ghost Bear. “Government air force will be here soon.”


>Leave any damaged tanks, get the rest loaded and let’s get out of here
>Major, have the Rattlers hold the skies for us, we’ll find two more transports somehow
>Ghost Bear, your men will have to escape on foot so we have room for the tanks.
>Write in

>>4439790
>>Leave any damaged tanks, get the rest loaded and let’s get out of here

>>4439790
>Leave any damaged tanks, get the rest loaded and let’s get out of here

>>4439797
>>4439820

>Writing

You grit your teeth and clench your hands into fists of rage. So close to perfect. So close.

“Leave behind what we have to,” you say, “Damaged tanks first. We’re getting out of here.” You glance at Ghost Bear and catch a grudging respect in his eyes. He says nothing but turns away to lead his surviving men aboard one of the idling transports.

The tanks load one at a time as quickly as they can, rolling up the ramps to park in the crowded cargo bays of the transport planes which are swiftly followed by hurrying Cobra troops, some wounded, others carrying wounded. A hard fought victory, but a victory all the same.

You pause on the ramp of the final plane, looking up to the lightening sky as your new Rattler squadron roars overhead. You turn your back on the burning airfield as the cargo ramp closes behind you and the planes take off in sequence, rising into the sky and leaving this battlefield behind.

You see Bludd coordinating teams of men lashing down the stolen weapons and gear, working around the bulky tanks that take up most of the bay. You ended up with two thirds of an armor battalion, but the successful acquisition of the Rattlers as well as extricating Ghost Bear makes it worth it.


>Speak with Ghost Bear
>Speak with Bludd
>Return to base in silence
>Write in

>>4439857
>Return to base in silence
Debrief both when we get back. I want to know how Ghost Bear fell into that trap and the possibilities those Rattlers give us from Bludd.

>>4439857
>Return to base in silence

>>4439857
>>Return to base in silence

>>4439897
>>4439918
>>4439925


>Writing

The plane ride is uneventful as you return to home base, the “Snake Den”. While your troops relax, laugh, gamble, and celebrate their win, you’re plotting and planning, not a moment wasted. You’ll need to debrief Ghost Bear and consult with Bludd when you return to base. Those Rattlers open a whole new dimension of warfare, though they’ll also require pilots with more than rudimentary training as well as logistics. Fuel, ammo, spare parts, more hassle.

All the same, these weapons open possibilities to you, ones you’re already salivating over. Before you can get to that though, you have to get back to your base.


>The Amazon
+Secrecy
Very remote and difficult to locate

>Central Europe
+Money
Access to banking centers

>Libya
+Fanaticism
Access to mercenaries and militants

>>4439940
>>The Amazon

>Libya

>>4439940
>>The Amazon

>Libya

Holding a little for a tie breaker

>>4439940
>Libya
Need more Troopers. That, and ultimately we're gonna build a better base somewhere else anyway. Maybe underwater or on the moon.

>>4440005
>Maybe underwater or on the moon
I like your style.

>Libya
>>4439943
>>4439990
>>4440005

>Writing

Home, such as it is, isn’t terribly far, though it is still several hours of zig-zag flying through remote Saharan desert, low to avoid radar and patrols. Close to noon you come into sight of the base. From the air the Snake Den is an abandoned airfield surrounded with some old burned down structures, abandoned remnants of some Soviet military facility. In actuality it was the surface cover over some shallow bunkers your men had dug and infra-red baffling camo nets concealing defenses like SAM launchers and gun turrets. There was no possibility of this base withstanding a determined effort to take it, but ideally it would hold out long enough for you to escape with whoever you brought out.

The landing is rough, moreso than before with the cargo holds laden with heavy weapons. After the planes bounce to a stop they taxi into position where they are hidden by tan camo nets, a move mirrored with each of the Rattler fighters that you watch come down.

Stepping from the open ramp and into the open desert is like entering an oven. Relentless sunlight beats down on, made worse by your battle armor and helmet.

“Get the wounded to the med bay,” you instruct Bludd. “Ensure the dead are disposed of quickly.”

“Yes, sir.”

Bludd and his men step to the task. Bodies were replaceable, especially here in Libya. With a weak and malleable central government the nation was de facto under no-man’s rule. It had become a hotbed for out of work militants and blacklisted Mercenaries from across the Mediterrenean and even Northern Europe and sub-Saharan Africa. Men like Bludd and Ghost Bear called this place home, and for every one that fell in battle, a dozen more would stand ready to take their place.

Still, not all were equally replaceable. You watch Ghost Bear’s team descend the ramp with their wounded and one dead. A Russian Inuit is carried limply from the plane and laid in the dust beside the runway.

Ghost Bear stands over his comrade a moment in contemplation before looking up and meeting your gaze. His eyes simmer with a cold, depthless hate and you take solace in the fact that it isn’t directed at you.

“A good man,” you tell him, unsure even of this trooper’s name.

“A warrior,” Ghost Bear says “With a warrior’s death. A fate we would have all shared if not for you.”


>You are my dearest fighter, Ghost Bear. Your loss would be irreplaceable
>I would not let your vendetta end in Africa when it is unsettled
>You still have use to me. Ensure it stays that way and I will move the earth to keep you on my side.
>Write in

>>4440030
>You still have use to me. Ensure it stays that way and I will move the earth to keep you on my side.

>>4440030
>You still have use to me. Ensure it stays that way and I will move the earth to keep you on my side.
>Write in
What happened during the attack? Who were you fighting?

>>4440072
>>4440107
>writing

You lay a gloved hand on Ghost Bear’s shoulder, “You still have use to me, Ghost Bear. Ensure that it stays that way and I will move the earth to keep you on my side.”

Ghost Bear nods subtly. “I will always serve your will, Commander. I owe you that much.”

“Do so and we’ll see your revenge carried out,” you say. “Together.”

His eyes flash. “I await that day eagerly.”

“Now,” you release him, “Tell me about the mission. You were ambushed.”

He flinches, it’s almost imperceptible but you notice it. “Yes. We walked into a trap I think.”

“Who were they?”

“West African Special forces I assume. My opinion is that we were unlucky. We targeted that base because of its remoteness, but I think it may have been seeing a special forces unit passing through.”

“I don’t believe in dumb luck,” you say, “not in our line of work.”

Ghost Bear shakes his head. “We were ambushed, Commander, but I do not believe they knew we were coming until we landed. They would have made better preparations. Air support, booby-trapping the runway. No, these fools were in the wrong place at the right time.”

“And then your men were no match for them?”

Ghost Bear glares at you, “We are a match for anyone. These we just were not expecting. We advanced with swiftness and speed as you instructed. We did not know they were there until they started shooting.”


>No matter, these things happen in war. It won’t happen again
>Acts of men can prevent disaster. I expect you and your men to redouble your training efforts
>A lesson learned in blood. Don’t let it happen again.
>Write in

>>4440141
>Acts of men can prevent disaster. I expect you and your men to redouble your training efforts

>>4440141
>>Acts of men can prevent disaster. I expect you and your men to redouble your training efforts

>>4440146
>>4440158

>Writing

“Acts of men can prevent disaster. There’s no impossible tasks if we set ourselves to it.” You know from experience. “I expect you and your men to redouble your training efforts.”

Ghost Bear hardens his expression, “Consider it done.”

“I do.”

You let silence lapse long enough to signal him that he’s dismissed. After Ghost Bear leaves you look down at his dead warrior, part of a short line of bodies laid out for cremation. The cost of business.

A few short moments later and you’re in the underground storage bay where Major Bludd is overseeing the maintenance of the new armored forces. Crew are already sand blasting off their old paint jobs and replacing them with black and dark blue paint schemes. Two technicians lay a plastic stencil down on the side of a turret while a third rattles a spray can before laying down a thick coat of red paint. They remove the stencil and you see the cobra motif hissing down at you.

Bludd spots you and makes his way over a moment later.

“Major,” you say, “What’s our haul?”

“Twelve battle tanks,” Bludd says, “Hardly cutting edge, but effectively unstoppable for anything with older weapons. Another dozen Rattlers, parts and tools for both and enough small arms and ammo to replace our losses.”

“And what are our losses?”

Bludd frowns, “Ghost Bear’s battalion is torn to bleedin shreds. Trifflin losses for you and me, nothing we can’t absorb. I’ve got lines out in Sabha for pilots and tank crew. Shouldn’t be hard.”

“These Rattlers greatly broaden our ability to execute long range strikes,” you say.

“No doubt. Armored VTOL fighters, they’re good for ground attack or air interdiction. Not the best at either, but a jack of all trades. We’ve got to do something about Ghost Bear’s losses.”

You nod, “It’s not like we can simply ask his tribe for more soldiers.”

(1/2)

“Right. I know we’ve got a long list of applicants from our enterprises in America and Europe, but those are gonna be novices. People with more guts than skill, or a hole in their wallets bigger than the fear in their heart.” He chuckles.

“Then hire some guns from Sabha,” you say dismissively. “You say we have the contacts for plenty of mercenaries.”

“That we do, sir,” Bludd says, “But the problem is cash.”

“Cash? Last I checked our finances were in order.”

“That they are, but we’ve got other problems.”

Problems. The darkest curse in your presence. “Such as?”

“We need twenty tanks for a full battalion,” Bludd says. “Ghost Bears little oopsie cost us enough that we’re gonna have to buy the difference on the black market. Not cheap.”

“Which doesn’t leave us enough to hire qualified guns.”

“Quite.”

You know from past experience that some of the less scrupulous mercenaries in the country are willing to work on credit, fighting now for payment later, but that’s a dangerous breed and it means you will have to pull a money making job sooner rather than later to buy them off. Failing that you’ll have a mutiny on your hands.


>Buy the tanks and take the inexperienced recruits
>Hire experience mercs, we can do with less tanks
>Hire mercs on the promise of a payday soon
>Write in

>>4440219
>Buy the tanks and take the inexperienced recruits

Seems like things have slowed down so I'll let this vote run overnight for me. I'll continue this tomorrow.

Thanks for playing everyone!

COBRAAA!

>Buy the tanks and take the inexperienced recruits
Minions and goons likely to get killed in droves. Sounds like Cobra.
>>4440260
Thanks for the run bossman.

>Hire experience mercs, we can do with less tanks

Cobra in the show was a new super weapon a week kind of army, let’s fight fire with fire, elite joes vs elite cobra

>>4440260
see ya

>>4440219
>>Hire experience mercs, we can do with less tanks

>>4440219
>>Buy the tanks and take the inexperienced recruits

>>4440219
>Hire experience mercs, we can do with less tanks
We should eventually switch to an army composed mostly of our own soldiers. Ghost Bear is committed now, but most of the other mercs will leave us hanging to save their own skin if they're in serious danger.

>>4440219
>Hire experience mercs, we can do with less tanks

>>4440219
>Hire experience mercs, we can do with less tanks

>>4440219
>Buy the tanks and take the inexperienced recruits
ello there tk DE sequel when

>Buy the tanks and take the inexperienced recruits
>>4440236
>>4440283
>>4440524
>>4440799

>Hire experienced mercs, we can do with less tanks
>>4440339
>>4440475
>>4440672
>>4440689
>>4440706

Close run, but the experienced mercs wins out.

>Writing

>>4440283
>Thanks
It's good to be back!

If we want to fight teams like the Joes, we need our own supersoldiers who can keep up with mankind's finest.
To that end, I propose that we form a cell of elite soldiers to counter these kinds of crack teams. (Name pending, I was thinking of something like "Fangs of the Cobra" or "SERPENT")
There will be eight members: codenames Taipan, Viper, Mamba, Rattlesnake, Adder, Krait, Python and Copperhead. They will specialize in dealing with elite squads in a number of ways, like responding to attacks, guarding high-priority targets, escorting VIPs and eliminating enemy operatives.
What do the rest of you think?

Sounds good to me but maybe have our ultra elites lead squad sized elements of our normal troops for no other reason then to give them bodies to hide behind if shit goes pear shaped

>>4441100
>>4441106
Definitely doable. We have another vote to tackle first but I will make a note to circle back on this idea.

File: Structure.jpg (458 KB, 1021x770)

458 KB JPG

“We’ll save the minions for later,” you tell Bludd. “Get me only the best we can afford. Quality over quantity.”

“Understood.”

“Get word out that we’re hiring, but only in trusted channels. We haven’t been here long enough for me to want to leave yet.”

The Snake Den was hidden but it was hardly invisible. Libya is a known hot bed for insurgents and rabblerousers, it will likely be among the first places that the powers that be will search if they feel the need to come after you. Draw down too much attention

“You know me, sir,” Bludd says. “I’ll get it done.”

“And be quick,” you say. “I want a leadership briefing about our next plans at first opportunity.”

Bludd nods and leaves you to your own devices. You walk the hangars and observe your men as they work. Your empire, such as it is, is still in its infancy. Once Bludd is done with his recruitment efforts you’ll be in possession of three combat teams, Major Bludd’s, Ghost Bears, and your personal command though you expect that as your organization grows you will likely give control of this unit to another promising soldier. For air power you have a single squadron of Rattler fighters and an older model tank battalion. Your combat arm is rounded off with your base defenders which are a few handfuls of guards, anti-air missile batteries and gun turrets. Additionally you have global heavy lift capacity to move your organization and troopers to any site in the world within 24 hours.

All in all it’s enough firepower to make some smaller third world nations envious. It’s enough to terrorize, but not to conquer.

This is the combined sum of Cobra’s combat arm which is in turn supported financially by three pillars. The first, and oldest, is the commercial branch. A motley collection of scams, pyramid schemes, and other fly-by-night enterprises which serves to swindle and separate fools from their money. It all began here for you, your own act of passive resistance against the system that had destroyed your life. That was of course before you discovered that money brought wealth, but true power only comes from the barrel of a gun.

(cont)

The second pillar is even less scrupulous, that of petty crime. Robberies and ransoms, any way to make a buck through violence. It serves as your proving ground for your domestic recruits, a way to learn the methods of violent means and to demonstrate determination and willingness to sacrifice for Cobra.

The third and strangest pillar is your religious/spiritual/self-help branch. COIL. Centered on Inner Learning. Coil exists ostensibly to help the downtrodden and desperate. In actuality it is a cult meant to take these dregs and show them that the true cause of their suffering is the system you aim to destroy.

Each of these branches is, like your combat arm, in its infancy, not large enough to attract substantial outside attention but something you can rely on to make money and find willing soldiers.

So far each of these pillars carries the weight of your combat forces, but growth will be needed if your organization is to expand.

Your tour of your base ends in your conference room. A low-ceilinged, dimly lit room taken up by a rickety table, a series of chairs, and a world map lit by spotlight on the far wall. You reach out and touch the paper map with a gloved hand, trailing your fingers across the Atlantic. It’s an optimistic vision, but you’ve made it this far. One day you will be a visage feared the world over. One day.

There is one major obstacle before you can set off on that road. MARS Industries. MARS controls the bulk of the independent arms market and as such is likely to be your main provider of advanced weapons and vehicles. If you hope to graduate from mothballed tanks to high-tech firepower you’ll need to reach agreement with MARS and it’s CEO and Owner James “Destro” McCullen. Famously, Destro has no qualms about making deals with the worst the planet has to offer. Money is money to him, regardless of its source. In your case however, you’ll need to make an untraceable deal. Cash is worthless to MARS if it can be traced back to a major criminal syndicate like yours. You’re going to need gold. Lots of gold.

***

After the excitement of the raid has ended and your forces are hunkered down into routine, you assemble Major Bludd and Ghost Bear as well as a scattering of other officers and leaders. All of them crowded into your cramped conference space, their attention fixed on you.

“Gold, gentlemen,” you say. “The oldest hard currency available. This is the next paving stone on our path to victory. Gold can get us an audience with the arms dealers we’ll need to truly outfit ourselves.”

“Sure,” Bludd says, “I’ll have my boys nip out to the local pawnshops and clear em out on wedding bands.” He laughs.

You do not.

“Where are we going to get gold like that?” Ghost Bear asks.


>A national stockpile
>Extorting a major corporation
>Controlling a gold mine
>Write in

>>4441137
>>A national stockpile

Preferably some African dictator who no one will give a fuck about

>A national stockpile

>>4441137
>Find a dictator with control over a gold mine and depose him
Why bother putting in any effort of our own? We can part a fool from his money and grab a tiny country in the process, then we'll place puppet leaders in the surrounding dictatorships.

>>4441137
>>Controlling a gold mine

>Controlling a gold mine

>>4441167
Foolish. You're a non-state actor with limited personnel and resources. A gold mine would tie up a meaningful amount just to defend and hold. Your entire advantage is you have nothing to defend, and plenty of targets.

>>4441137
>Controlling a gold mine
New gold. A gradual supply of money. Stockpile is only big but short term.

>>4441137
>We will set up an OnlyFans for the Baroness

>>4441198
LOL.

>A national stockpile
>>4441150
>>4441153

>Gold mine
>>4441157
>>4441167
>>4441171
>>4441185

>Gold Mine
Writing

“The solution to a lack of gold,” you say, “Is to secure the source. A gold mine to call our own. Hidden behind a dummy shell corporation to hide our ownership.”

“Hard assets means we’ll be tied down,” Ghost Bear says. “Something to defend.”

“Only if they find it.”


“And how do you propose we take control of a whole bleedin gold mine?” Bludd asks.

“The first world has always exploited the resources of the third,” you say, “We will take a page from their book. It shouldn’t be too challenging to find a weak national government that can be bent to our will. Then we can take what assets we need. Something in Africa perhaps.”

“We’ll need good intel for that,” Bludd says. “Someone with insight and connections who can pick us a target wealthy enough to be worth it and weak enough to not be missed.”

You won’t admit it but being the sole brains behind Cobra can be an exhausting task. Men like Bludd and Ghost Bear are good as muscle and triggermen, but you would welcome a willing ally. “You have someone in mind?”

“I reckon I do,” Bludd says, “Anastasia Graham.”

“Graham?”

“They call her the Baroness.”

It isn’t difficult to find publicly available information about her. Baroness is a moniker well known across the West. 29 years old, American-born. Baroness is the daughter of Rudolf Graham, the well media baron of the International News Network media empire.

“Apple fell pretty far from the tree,” Bludd says. “Baroness’s college experience was less sorority binders and more radical activism. Take your pick of western terrorist cells, she’s been a part of it.”

You cycle through data related to Baroness on your computer screen. Newspaper articles regaling her villainous activities are paired with grainy, black and white photos of Baroness. She’s physically quite striking, long black hair, large, circular-rimmed glasses, and a fiery gaze.

“Extortion, kidnapping, bombings, assassinations, you name it. And she’s a looker too,” Bludd says.

(1/2)

“How can we get her on our side?” you ask.

Bludd chuckles, “Tough break is that she bit off more than she could chew about a year ago. Bombing attempt in the London Underground. She’s doing a life sentence in Coldwater prison in Scotland.”


“Prisons are for keeping people in,” you say, “not out. You think this woman has the intel we need?”

“No doubt. If not, she’ll no where to get it.”

“And if we free her-” Ghost Bear says.

“Then she’s in our debt,” you finish. “Tell me about Cold Water.”

“Miserable place,” Bludd says, “Old castle they turned into a max security unit for the worst of the worst. Ideal recruiting ground for Cobra if you ask me.”

“Security?”

“Tight,” Bludd says. “Sneaking in would be a hell of a thing to pull off. Might do better to go in guns blazing. Prisons don’t typically pack anti-tank and anti-air weapons.”

“That will mean attention on us. More attention,” Ghost Bear says.

You study the image of the castle Bludd has pulled up. It is certainly a daunting structure, towers and parapets, spotlights and bars. “A clandestine team might be able to get in and get out with Baroness,” you say, “But no more. Even then it’s risky. A larger strike force could breach these walls and getting back out with just one prisoner will be much easier than a hundred.”

“If we crack this nut then we’ll have another battalion’s worth of scum at our beck and call,” Bludd says. “Let’s have a go at it, eh?”


>We’ll infiltrate the prison and break out Baroness
>We’ll attack in force and just break out Baroness
>We’ll attack in force and liberate the whole prison population
>Write in

>>4441222
>We'll launch a two-pronged attack. A small group of infiltrators will rally the inmates, and when our main force attacks the infiltrators will initiate a mass revolt.

>>4441222
>>We’ll attack in force and liberate the whole prison population

>>4441222
>We’ll attack in force and liberate the whole prison population

>>4441222
>We’ll infiltrate the prison and break out Baroness

>>4441222
>>We’ll attack in force and liberate the whole prison population

>We’ll attack in force and liberate the whole prison population
>>4441229
>>4441230
>>4441252

>Writing

You drive a gauntleted fist against the table. “You will have your attempt, Major. And we will take that prize.” You look to Ghost Bear, “And if it draws attention then so be it. I did not get us where we are by playing safe.”

“Do we have schematics of the prison, Major?”

Bludd shakes his head.

“Then we will have to operate as best we can.”

“That’s poor ground for tanks though,” Bludd says. “And that means extra transport capacity. I’d propose we go in with jeeps and foot soldiers. Land somewhere nearby and assault the prison. Bring the Rattlers for air support. A team of troops can search the castle for Baroness while the others hold.”

“That will be a long distance to travel,” Ghost Bear says, “from airport to prison, even with jeeps. It would be better with helicopters.”

“We don’t have any bleedin helicopters,” Bludd returns.

“Then I propose we get some. Our primary assault will not go to the prison itself but to a nearby airfield. Steal the helicopters we need and proceed directly to the prison before making our escape.”

“More targets,” Bludd says, “More points of failure.”

“But securing helicopters will be vital for our future operations,” Ghost Bear says.

“Then we buy em from MARS when we have the money,” Bludd says. “If we attack an airbase we’re going to set off even more alarms then we already will.”

“They will not expect us to follow up an attack with another.”


>We’ll stick with Bludd’s plan. Land and drive to the prison.
>We’ll use Ghost Bear’s plan. Steal helicopters and fly them to the prison
>Silence, both of you. We will do it my way (Write in)

>>4441265
>>We’ll use Ghost Bear’s plan. Steal helicopters and fly them to the prison

>>4441265
>We’ll use Ghost Bear’s plan. Steal helicopters and fly them to the prison

>>4441265
>>We’ll use Ghost Bear’s plan. Steal helicopters and fly them to the prison

>We’ll use Ghost Bear’s plan. Steal helicopters and fly them to the prison

>Writing

You point to Ghost Bear, “This is the kind of thinking I like. We’ll bring along enough weapons to arm the prison population as well. If they want to work with us, we will escape with them, if not, we’ll let them run free. We have enough spare rifles after the Bamenda raid I assume?”

“Yes, sir,” Major Bludd says.

“Good. Ghost Bear, prepare your men for the raid. I want the helicopter heist to proceed smoothly. I envision a forced landing on an airfield like Bamenda but with the Rattlers providing overwatch. Once we have the helicopters we can proceed to the prison and execute our main plan. Major Bludd, your team will secure the perimeter along with my battalion while Ghost Bear focuses on locating Baroness.”

Your subordinates both nod.

>We will proceed with the operation in two days
>One more thing (Write in)

>>4441302
>>One more thing (Write in)
Start planning ahead for finding a new base or place to retreat to afterwards. There's gonna be a shit ton of heat generated off this.

>>4441309
Support

>>4441309
This, or at the very least make plans for the amount of heat you expect.

>>4441309
that's good +1

>>4441302
What >>4441309 said. We need a new place to live.
You know what, I like the sound of that quiet town, name of... Springton or Springvalley?

>>4441309
Supporting. It ideally would be somewhere near our new gold mine but needs must.

Just now got caught up and gotta say this quest has been great thus far. I hope it lives a long life.

>>4441302
Supporting >>4441309

>>4441317
>Springton or Springvalley?
Anytown, USA soon.

>>4441319
>Great
Thanks! I was worried this concept was too weird or obscure, glad to see I was wrong.

>Long life
Is this the quest version of "I hope you live in interesting times"?

>Fall back base
>>4441309
>>4441311
>>4441315
>>4441316
>>4441317
>>4441319

>Writing

“Before we move forward, we must be prepared for contingencies,” you say. “Major Bludd, how prepared is this base to deal with enemy attention?”

“Not enough, sir,” Bludd says. “All this gear would just be a speed bump to any military task force that finds us. Might buy a little time to evacuate.”

“Then we will need to make plans on where we could go,” you say, turning to consult the map, eyes scanning for cracks where a snake might slither into hiding.

“What about the Coil Retreat?” Bludd suggests, “We spent enough money on that fancy summer camp, might as well put it to good use.”

The Coil Retreat and Relaxation Campus is a part of your Coil branch of course. A center for the upper echelons of that cult to gather to meditate, unwind, and indoctrinate others to your cause. Located in Springfield, USA, it would be right under the noses of one of the most powerful militaries on earth. It was unlikely they’d ever think to look there for Cobra, but it would also potentially draw attention to one of your non-militant branches. Still, the groundwork is already in place, and you’d have a ready supply of trooper recruits and labor for construction.

“Better something less conspicuous,” Ghost Bear says. “Atla.” He gestures to the Baltic on your map. “There is an old Soviet naval base there. Abandoned. Mostly stripped but it has the infrastructure for everything we could need. Barracks, perimeter defenses, storage and repair bays, even submarine pens.”

You raise an eyebrow. The idea of a Cobra submarine fleet is very appealing, but not something you're in position to take immediate advantage of.

“I think a Cobra naval base might get spotted pretty bloody fast, don’t you?” Bludd asks.

Ghost Bear shrugs. “It is not heavily trafficked. The right bribes in the right hands will make local authorities turn the other way, but take any choice. The former Soviet empire is dotted with such facilities. Druzhba Air base in Central Asia. Far removed from civilization, hidden in the mountains. Smaller than Atla, but less obtrusive.”

“Will the Rattlers have trouble at the other two bases?” you ask.

“They’re VTOL,” Bludd says dismissing your concerns. “Can take off from someone’s backyard if we want. The cargo planes’ll be harder I reckon, but they’re short takeoff and land. We can modify em for anywhere I expect.”


>COIL Retreat - Springfield, USA
>Atla Naval base, Baltic States
>Druzhba Airbase, Central Asia

>>4441351
>Atla Naval base, Baltic States

I think we should keep Springfield on the down low until absolutely necessary

>>4441351
>Druzhba Airbase, Central Asia

Atla will still be there when we have the necessary funds to make proper use of it.

>>4441351
>>Druzhba Airbase, Central Asia

Atla will come later. Once we have enough funds.

>>4441351
>>Druzhba Airbase, Central Asia

>>4441351
>Druzhba Airbase, Central Asia

>Druzhba Airbase, Central Asia

>writing

File: UKAirbase.jpg (166 KB, 900x506)

166 KB JPG

The attack on the airbase begins much like your raid on Bamenda. It’s so similar in fact that even as you storm down the boarding ramp firing from the hip you make a mental note to change up tactics in the future so the enemy can’t anticipate this.

“Cobra!” Ghost Bear puts a burst of fire through the chest of a nearby airman and gestures his troops forward. “Cobra!”

Your planes, their cargo offloaded, and already revving up engines and taking back to the sky, leaving the troops they disgorged to storm the nearby transport helicopters. Fueling hoses are quickly disengaged and spare fuel canisters loaded aboard.

Major Bludd stops on the ramp of one of the helicopters to survey his men as they mop up.

“We’ve got maybe fifteen minutes before backup gets here,” he says.

“We’ll be gone by then,” you reply.

The screech of jet engines makes you look up in time to see a pair of cobalt-painted Rattlers swoop low and rake a hangar with laser fire, detonating whatever craft was parked within.

Bludd whoops and waves his gun in the air as the jets pass overhead. “Bloody marvelous pilot we found,” he says. “Wild Weasel, a crazy yank with a bone to pick.”

The lead Rattler waggles its wings in salute to Bludd and you as it passes by.

“As long as he does the job,” you say.

“I was thinkin we have the Rattlers peel off and make some attack runs on the nearby civil airport. Chop up some airliners and keep heat off us,” Bludd says. “What do you think?”

“I thought we intended to keep them as air support for the attack on the castle.”

Bludd shrugs, “Whatever you want boss.”


>Send the Rattlers off to draw attention away from your attack
>Keep them as air support for the prison raid
>Write in

>Keep them as air support

>>4441425
>Keep them as air support for the prison raid

>>4441430
>>4441431

>Writing

File: Castle.jpg (177 KB, 1440x612)

177 KB JPG

“Stick to the plan, Major,” you hiss. “I won’t have any harebrained last minute changes foul this up.”

You turn and raise your voice, addressing the assembled Cobra troopers. “Soldiers of Cobra! Waste no time, we have brethren to free and an escape to make! Forward!”

“Cobra!” the hoarse cry comes back to you and the helicopters are loaded hurriedly. Fully laden, they lift up and take to the skies, pulling away from the airbase, blades thumping. Coldwater Prison is only a few minutes away by direct flight. The choppers carry your men low enough that you fear they might brush the treetops, though they manage to eventually reach the prison itself. It’s even more imposing in reality than in the photographs you’d seen.


The helicopters fan out and circle the compound allowing you to survey the grounds. Four sturdy stone walls surround a broad courtyard taken up with exercise yards where even now you see orange-clad prisoners looking up in confused awe.

At the four corners of the prison walls are four medieval towers, each topped with a spotlight and a team of guards gesturing up at your helicopters in alarm.

Overhead your Rattlers form up, ready to bring hell on any targets that might arise.

Outside of the castle is a complex of administrative buildings and a parking lot. The primary entrance to the castle is a medieval gatehouse occupied with a modern chain link gate.

You can land the choppers inside the courtyard if you’d like though it would put them in position to be fired down on by the guards in the towers, possibly creating a deadly crossfire.

Given the skill of your pilots and the quality of mercenaries you employ you could also hover the choppers above the towers and unload your forces directly on them, though that would require splitting your attack force into four isolated groups.

Avoiding both of these issues you could land in the exterior parking lot and then storm the main gate. You doubt that it’s prepared for this sort of assault but it would mean fighting through the greater portion of the castle.


>Land in the prison yard as a group
>Split up and drop troops on the towers
>Land outside and blow through the main gate
>Write in

>>4441500
>Split up and drop troops on the towers

>>4441500
>>Split up and drop troops on the towers

>>4441500
>Split up and drop troops on the towers

Let's get our moneys worth.

>>4441504
>>4441506
>>4441514

>Writing

>>4441500
>Split up and drop troops on the towers

File: Rappel.png (453 KB, 542x486)

453 KB PNG

“Take them in for the towers!” you radio Bludd. “As close as they can get!”

“Yes, sir!”

The helicopters dip down low and circle toward the towers. Laser fire flashes up as the guards finally realize that this is a hostile action. It’s not enough to drop any of your birds however and return fire from Rattlers and troops in the open ramps drives back the guards.

Rappel cords are dropped down and a second later your soldiers slide down the ropes to land on the stone surfaced tower tops and clear them up.

You followed them down, swallowing fear and rappelling with the others before landing hard and taking cover by the parapets and peering down at the prisoners scattering for cover.

On the opposite tower you see Bludd directing fire down at the prison guards caught in the open. On a neighboring tower Ghost Bear leads his men down into the prison.

You toggle your radio to the waiting choppers. “Get weapons down to those prisoners!”

The helicopters descend and start tossing weapons out to the waiting hands of the prisoners who eagerly snatch them up and join their fire to yours, driving back guards.

So far, all to plan. The presence of the Rattlers overhead is a comforting ace in the hole, insurance against a possible enemy counter attack. You switch channels to Ghost Bear’s frequency. “Any sign of Baroness?”

“Nothing yet, Commander. You’ll have to be patient, this place is a maze.” he grunts and you hear laser fire snap off. “And we’re not alone. It will take time.”

You scowl. That resource you’re eternally short of.

The courtyard seems well secured, your troops are making short work of the security here who are ill-prepared to fend off battled hardened mercenaries. Bludd’s men are fanning out to take up fighting positions around the perimeter wall, watching for trouble while chaos reigns in the courtyard as prisoners run riot, murdering their guards and breaking into secure areas.


>Descend into the prison to join the search for Baroness
>Remain on the tower and direct the defense
>Rappel down to the courtyard and rally the prisoners to your cause.
>Write in

>>4441554
>Rappel down to the courtyard and rally the prisoners to your cause.

>Rappel down and rally the prisoners

>>4441554
>Rappel down to the courtyard and rally the prisoners to your cause.

Anyone of our subordinates can lead the search or defense of the castle. Only we, Cobra Commander, can win these criminals over to our cause.

>>4441554
>Rappel down to the courtyard and rally the prisoners to your cause.

>>4441561
>>4441564
>>4441573
>>4441574

>Writing

There’s easily a hundred rioting prisoners down there. The worst of the worst if Bludd is to be believed. The most feared men and women of Europe, armed, desperate, and angry. It’s the sort of situation you live for.

With quick care you clip yourself to the rappel cord and descend, followed by a quartet of troopers who spread out once you hit the ground.

The prisoners here give you space warily. Some scowl, some sneer, a few even laugh, but as it stands they don’t know what to make of you.

You lead your small guard unit to the center of the yard where you find a cement picnic table draped with the bodies of two guards, cut down by laser fire.

“Move them.”

Your troopers pull the bodies away with the same care they might show a bundle of bricks.

With your impromptu stage cleared you climb on the seat and then the table itself, looking around at the prisoners who are increasingly taking note of you, converging to gather around. You’re not sure you brought enough choppers to get them all out, but you know you have space for enough of them. The rest will have to make their own way whether they want to or not.

“Thanks for the hand, snakeboy!” someone in the crowd calls.

You turn to him, the crowd reflecting from your faceplate. “You address the Cobra Commander!” you say with a theatrical sweep of your arm.

“Oh yeah? Why should we care?”

“Because I’m the only one who cares enough to get you out of this hellhole.”

That seems to get their attention. The others pipe down. Your audience is ready. It’s time for a speech. Time is short, so your speech will have to be as well. You’ll have to try to hit the nail on the head.


>I can make each of you rich beyond your wildest dreams
>I can give you the tools to make the world burn
>I can ensure you never end up in a place like this again
>Write in

>>4441585
>I can ensure you never end up in a place like this again

>>4441585
>I can ensure you never end up in a place like this again

Cobra seeks to radically shift the status quo and in doing so rip apart the world. These men would never be prisoners again in our vision of an ideal world. It's just gonna take a little effort and a lot of lasers to get there.

>>4441585
I'm rather inclined to say all of the above, but

>I can ensure you never end up in a place like this again

>>4441587
>>4441592
>>4441609

>Writing

>>4441585
>I can ensure you never end up in a place like this again

“I used to be a man like you,” you say to the crowd. “Afraid. Trapped. Back to the wall and nowhere to go. Now-” you hold an open hand skyward and clench it to a fist, “I’m tired of being tread on. Cobra seeks to radically shift the status quo and in doing so, rip apart the world.”

Someone cheers.


“None of you would ever be prisoners again in my vision of an ideal world. You have ambition, no tolerance for the weak? Morality? Ethics? These are a curse to carry, a burden on us. The truth is, what we say is law!”

You point to the crowd, tracing your finger across as many of them as you can. “Join me and we’ll tear down every prison to its foundations and build a cage big enough to hold the people who truly belong there!”

The crowd cheers as one and raises their weapons.

Overhead, a pair of helicopters are descending into the courtyard, ramps open to admit the new inductees.

“Cobra!” You shout.

“Cobra!” they return. Many of them anyway. Others are already turning for the exit, clearly intent on pressing out on their own. So be it, the chaos they sow will only further your goals.

You descend from your makeshift stage and find yourself face to face with a prisoner. He holds his rifle like he knows how to use it. “I believe you,” he says, the softness of his voice belying the strange dullness to his eyes. “I believe what you said.”

“Then you will go as far as anyone,” you say. “This is the first step to greatness.”

You spot Ghost Bear and his team exiting the prison nearby.

“See that you get a place on my helicopters,” you tell the prisoner before turning to meet Ghost Bear in the open yard. You’re halfway there when you spot Baroness. She looks just like her pictures only wearing the unflattering shapeless orange jumpsuit of the other prisoners.

She squints in the sunlight at you as you approach.

“Military-grade weapons and training,” she says, “serpent imagery, and who could miss the chrome face mask. Cobra Commander I presume? I’ve heard a lot about you.”


>Likewise, Baroness. Consider this a formal invitation to join our organization
>I’m here to offer you a choice. Freedom or incarceration
>From this day forward, Baroness, you work for me
>Write in

>>4441632
>Likewise, Baroness. Consider this a formal invitation to join our organization
Want to change the face mask?

>>4441632
>Likewise, Baroness. Consider this a formal invitation to join our organization

>>4441632


>Likewise, Baroness. Consider this a formal invitation to join our organization

>>4441632
>Likewise, Baroness. Consider this a formal invitation to join our organization

>>4441642
>>4441649
>>4441653
>>4441658

>Writing

You extend a hand and she shakes it. “Likewise, Baroness. Your credentials are beyond question. I would like you to consider this a formal invitation to join our organization.”

She gives you a tight half-smile. “I didn’t think you’d go through all this trouble for your own amusement.”

“I assure you,” you say, “I am thoroughly amused.”

Behind you, one of the helicopters, now fully loaded with escaped prisoners climbs skyward.

“I’m with you then,” she says as one of Ghost Bear’s men hands her a rifle. “Let’s just get out of here.”

The scream of jet engines draws your eyes up and you see the Rattlers break in pairs and accelerate west.

“Radar contacts, Commander,” a fresh voice says. “Looks like the farmer knows there’s a snake in the henhouse.”

“Keep them off our backs, we’re moving.” You follow Ghost Bear and Baroness back to the remaining chopper and hold tight as it lifts off, pulling away from the prison and fleeing east. Behind you Wild Weasel’s Rattlers duel with enemy fighter craft racing in. Missiles and lasers crisscross the sky and a pair of fighters go down in flames, the enemy.

“Piece of cake,” Wild Weasel says, his Rattler buzzing your helicopter.

“Quit showing off before you ground us all permanently!” you shout at your hotshot pilot.

Baroness keeps her face pressed to the window, watching the countryside roll by, probably enjoying her freedom, the first taste of it in a year.

“We’re all clear, sir,” Major Bludd says. “Light losses. Would have been worse if the Rattlers weren’t here to cover us.”

“I’m sure,” you say.

“We’re headed home now. Won’t be long,” Bludd adds.

But where then was home? With so much commotion here it seems a safe bet that the government will be looking for these prisoners and the men who freed them. Soon enough the Snake Den might not be safe. It may be prudent to evacuate the base now, though it will mean a significant delay in your operations as well as a loss of the fertile recruiting grounds you have access to.

Likewise, if you are to retreat maybe you could preempt the enemy and booby trap your base as a final surprise for whoever finds it. Once that’s done you won’t be able to return to it if it turns out the anticipated enemy raid isn’t soon in coming however.


>Withdraw to Libya for now
>Withdraw to Druzhba Airbase
>Withdraw to Druzhba Airbase and booby trap the Snake Den
>Write in

>>4441686
>Withdraw to Druzhba Airbase

Tempted to booby trap the Snake Den, but honestly, we'd just be bringing more heat on to ourselves for little gain.

>>4441686
>Withdraw to Druzhba Airbase

>>4441686
>Withdraw to Druzhba Airbase

>>4441686
>Withdraw to Druzhba Airbase

Save the booby-trapping for when we really need it.

>>4441692
>>4441709
>>4441711
>>4441713

>writing

“Radio ahead to the Snake Den,” you tell Bludd. “Let’s start the evacuation now. I see no reason to wait until it’s too late. If I’m correct we won’t be using it much longer.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Ghost Bear, are preparations finished at the new base?”

“Mostly. Enough for habitation. The rest we can handle once we arrive.”

“The sooner the better,” you say and kill the channel.

The flight home is agonizingly long, made even longer with a short stopover in Libya to load the last of your gear aboard cargo planes for the final trip to Druzhba. The name is so inelegant. You’ll have to find a suitable moniker for it soon, or maybe even just carry of the Snake Den label.

When the planes finally do land, you’re unimpressed. Ghost Bear was right, it is an abandoned Soviet airbase. Beyond that, it’s a stripped down relic. With two main runways, hangars peppered with rust holes, a defunct radar station, and dusty, empty cement buildings.

You remind yourself that you’ve dealt with worse as you set about the ordinary tasks of sectioning off the base and setting up defenses. It certainly has space, space to spare in fact.

As Bludd said, our losses were light. Expert handling by your resident ace pilot Wild Weasel kept your Rattler squadron intact and the skill of your troops kept them alive.

Two busy days pass as you dedicate yourself wholly to the task of making this base fitting of its status as your primary location of operations before you have a chance to meet with Major Bludd.

“Good news, Major, give me good news.”

“Fresh battalion is formed up and going through training now, sir,” he says. “Lots of promise in this lot. Loyal like you won’t believe. Had one bloke hold a live grenade and count off just cause I told him too.” He chuckles and he catches your stare, “Oh lay off, I let him throw it before it was too late.”

“They’re Cobra troopers now, Bludd, not playthings.”

(1/2)

“I’d like to play with our latest acquisition I think,” Bludd says with a lusty sneer.

“Who’s leading the new battalion?” you ask, snapping Bludd back to reality. “One of the prisoners, taken to calling him ‘Taipan’. Nasty bugger. Seems he has quite a shine for you.”

“Taipan,” you say with approval.

Bludd nods, “Brings us to four battalions of troops, one of tanks, and a squadron of Rattlers. A real army at that.”

“Not yet,” you say. “Once we get those weapons from MARS we’ll be a force to be reckoned with.”

“I checked our financial records, sir,” Bludd says. “We’ve got a bit of spare cash comin our way from Stateside. I been thinking if you let be buy the right weapons and gear I could make a pass through some of the local villages. I bet we could find ourselves some real bloody savage buggers out there. A couple US dollars’ll seem like paydirt to them.”

You’ve dealt with local strongmen enough to know that they’ll have bravado in spades but not much in the way of staying power on the battlefield. They were typically thugs who were used to getting their way and not accustomed to a real challenge.

“Otherwise maybe we could invest in some advanced warning and defense. These mountains do a good job obscuring most radar. We could throw out some hidden SAM sites and really nail any sneak attack on us before it’s right up our ass.”

“What about heavy weapons? Anything on the market?” you ask.

“Around here? I’m sure. Locals probably stripped this place bare when the Soviets went under. An old airbase like this probably had a few heavy bombers about. Not sure what you’d want with something like that but I reckon I could round up one.


>Form a battalion from the locals
>Invest in early warning sites
>Old jet bomber
>Write in

>>4441776
>Invest in early warning sites

>>4441776
>Invest in early warning sites

>>4441776
>>Invest in early warning sites

>>4441779
>>4441797
>>4441802

>Writing

Updates are going to come a lot slower the rest of the night. I've got real life sneaking up on me.

File: Baroness.png (180 KB, 320x480)

180 KB PNG

“I don’t like surprises,” you say. “Put in orders for the early warning sites. Have Ghost Bear’s scouts find the best placements.”

“Sir.”

“And have him make sure they’re well hidden.”

“You don’t need to remind me, sir,” Bludd says. “Ah,” he stops and turns back to face you, “Baroness has been brought up to speed with our organization per your instructions. She’s wanting a briefing when you have the time.”

“There’s no time like the present.”

Bludd smirks, “Yeah, I’ll send her your way.”

You’re studying the world map when Baroness arrives. She’s an entirely different figure in form-fitting black fatigues topped with battle armor, her hair running neatly around her shoulders. You note the prominent Cobra icon on her breastplate.

“It seems you’re adapting quickly to things here,” you say.

“You’ll find I’m versatile, Commander. The passive and the static don’t last in my profession.”

“Professional anarchist?”

She smiles politely and sits opposite you at the table. “I don’t claim to have the solutions to the world’s problems, but I can see the sources of trouble.”

“Tear down the old rotten structure before replacing it?” you ask.

Baroness adjusts her glasses. “Precisely.”


>I intend to be the architect of that new structure. I think you’ll like the result.
>What’s your vision of what replaces it?
>Fortunately I only need you to help me destroy it. Leave what comes next to me.
>Write in

>>4442063
>What’s your vision of what replaces it?

>>4442063
>What’s your vision of what replaces it?

>>4442063
>Fortunately I only need you to help me destroy it. Leave what comes next to me.

>>4442063
>>What’s your vision of what replaces it?
buuuuut ultimately
>I intend to be the architect of that new structure. I think you’ll like the result.

>What’s your vision of what replaces it?

>>4442078
>>4442080
>>4442089


>Writing

“And what do you envision to replace that old structure?” you ask.

“Strong leadership,” she says, “A meritocracy. A chance for the capable to shine and not be held back by the bureaucratic tangle that holds them back.”

You grin behind your mask. “I think we’ll get along beautifully, Baroness.”

“I hope so,” she says. “I’ve been with many organizations that had a strong vision of the future. None so well prepared as this one. As for the future, I’m an activist, not a fortune teller. I prefer to live in the now.”

“A wise philosophy,” you say. “The desire for the future determines my present though.”

“Major Bludd tells me that you sought out my expertise for a mission.”

“Gold,” you say. “Untraceable wealth is invaluable for an organization like ours. I have need for a gold stockpile to further our mission. Gold is the means to weapons and technology currently out of our reach.”

Baroness listens attentively but says nothing.

“To that end, I want to secure a source of gold. A mine that we can use for our own devices.”

“And you want me to help your source and secure one,” Baroness says.

“I’m told you’re exactly what we need.”

She smiles confidently. “You came to the right place, Commander.” She rises from her seat and walks the length of the global map, studying each nation in turn. “A year in the hole didn’t keep me off my game.”

“Then you know a target.”

(1/2)

File: Badhikistan.png (375 KB, 711x710)

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“Several. You’ll need one productive enough that you can profit off it, but not so valuable that you draw attention to yourself. One with a pliable or weak government, one nearby.”

“Yes.”

Baroness taps the map with a fingernail, “Badhikstan.”

“Badhikstan?” you repeat the name and come to stand beside her and look at the small nation.

“A short trip from our current location I think,” she says. “The government is weak, pliable, and isolated politically. By my last observation the Glorious Leader at odds with all powers, East and West. Too many misadventures with his nation's ethnic minorities and too many radical reforms of the economy. Gold, rare earth metals, and a small amount of petroleum reserves. The national military is small to the point of near non-existence. You might actually outnumber them.”

It sounds like exactly what you’re looking for.

“And your suggestions to secure the mine?”

“Take your pick,” Baroness says. “Coup de main to topple the government and establish your own. Bribery or blackmail to put the president in your pocket, or clandestine action to take direct control of the mine without disturbing the rest of the country.”

“Is that possible?” you ask, surprised.

Baroness brushes a strand of hair behind her ear. “These enterprises are always run by kleptocrats. Dear friends of the president. We don’t need the president in our pocket if we strike some kind of deal with the man who runs the mine. It avoids problems with nation building and making enemies with a president but runs the risk of making the weak link in this chain a man who likely can’t be trusted far.”

“And you think we could topple the government and establish our own?”

“Like all things, it can be done with the proper application of violence. If you take some measure of legitimacy, make the right allies. A rebellious ethnic group, military officer, or relative of the leader. Hide your coup behind a civil war. You might even present yourself as their liberator if you’re so bold.”

The idea has its appeal.

“And for less violent approaches on the president-”

“Kidnap him and force him to cooperate, find the skeletons in his closet, or offer him a greater gift in return. The options are boundless.”


>We’ll pursue the direct approach and find a way to take control of the whole country
>We’ll purse a clandestine approach to get the President in our pocket
>We’ll pursue an indirect approach and just control the man who controls the mine
>Write in

>>4442142
>We’ll pursue the direct approach and find a way to take control of the whole country

We have a chance here to put our money where our mouth is and make some real lasting change. It should make a good impression on our recent hires at the very least. I'm not saying we should go full loud but being the hidden patron behind a popular or not so popular revolution more than works for me.

>>4442142
>We’ll purse a clandestine approach to get the President in our pocket

>>4442142
>>We’ll pursue the direct approach and find a way to take control of the whole country
Nice to see you back TK

>Well pursue the direct approach and find a way to take control of the whole country

>>4442142
>Offer our services as a means to overthrow the government to a would-be revolutionary in exchange for the rights to control the gold mind.

The direct approach, more or less, but without us as the obvious head of the whole thing. Starting our own nation sounds like it'd be a bit much.

>>4442236
Gold mine* rather

>>4442142
>>We’ll pursue the direct approach and find a way to take control of the whole country

This quest has been great so far!

>>4442142
>>We’ll purse a clandestine approach to get the President in our pocket
Our first country shouldn't be Badhikstan, because we will likely be invaded at some point and forced to defend the shithole. And if we decide it isn't worth the fight then we'll be seen as weak for abandoning it. Better to get the milk now without taking care of the cow.

>>4442142
>>We’ll purse a clandestine approach to get the President in our pocket

>>4442142
>We’ll purse a clandestine approach to get the President in our pocket

I'm gonna be honest, I never saw GI. Joe, don't think it even aired here in the Netherlands. I did see M.A.S.K. though and Venom might make a nice addition to Cobra

>>4442142
>We’ll pursue the direct approach and find a way to take control of the whole country

>We’ll pursue the direct approach and find a way to take control of the whole country
>>4442168
>>4442182
>>4442187
>>4442236
>>4442264
>>4442451

>>We’ll purse a clandestine approach to get the President in our pocket
>>4442174
>>4442318
>>4442356
>>4442381

Cowabunga it is.

>Writing

>>4442182
>Nice to see you back TK

Thanks! It's good to be back.


>>4442264
>This quest has been great so far!

I really appreciate you saying that! I'm enjoying it myself.


>>4442236
There will be sub choices related to this, hold tight.


>>4442381
>M.A.S.K
Never saw it myself but I am sure the principle is the same. Cobra, Venom, the Brotherhood of Nod, it's all roughly equivalent.

“I can see a lot of benefits to holding a country, even Badhikistan in the palm of my hand,” you say.

“You can take that as far as you’d like. Direct force could easily claim the country for Cobra, but you will be saddled with the stigma of being an invader, an international pariah.”

You chuckle, “I have enough bad press as it is. I am interested in more creative means.”

Baroness folds her arms, “Then you’re left with a few possibilities. The first would be a standard coup. We find someone in the government or military who is willing to take direction in exchange for military power. We topple the president and elevate this puppet to the throne. We call the shots while you remain out of the spotlight. It would be child’s play to demand unlimited access to a gold mine, or anything else from him for that matter. But there is something to be said for this method.”

“Never trust a traitor,” you reply smoothly.

“Precisely. Less messy, but it adds in a middleman.”

“Some of my best friends are traitors,” you say, drawing a smirk from Baroness. “What if I want a more direct hand?”

“Civil war or invasion,” she says. “A direct invasion will be completely transparent in regards to your involvement, but it will remove any middlemen. Driving the country to civil war, with you backing a faction will provide you more control but also give you plausible deniability. A coalition of mountain tribes and oppressed minorities should be easy enough to lead without any one person having the power to oppose your rule. Get weapons in their hands and leaders in front of them and the nation is yours. Cobrastan.”

“Cobrastan,” you chuckle and eye the map. “Exactly what sort of military force does Badhikistan muster?”

“Ancient air force, old tanks, a few battalions of uninspired conscripts and maybe one of spoiled elite guard. If you strike quickly - even without allies - then overpowering them should be simple.”


>We will find a faction in the government to press into a coup
>We will muster enemies of the government into a civil war
>We will just invade ourselves
>Write in

>>4442514
>We will muster enemies of the government into a civil war
This is the safest option, for obvious reasons. But what if we were to compromise the government at the same time? We could get in touch with important officials and promise them a good spot in the new regime in exchange for their support.

>>4442514
>We will muster enemies of the government into a civil war

>>4442518
Can probably put strategies like that into action once we've found some revolutionary to back. Though, eh, I'm not really inclined to personally. It'd probably make things easier in the short term, but in the long term it's just reintroducing the rot from the old regime into the new one. Not to mention, if they were willing betray their old government and side with us for safety and monetary gain then they'd probably squeal on us if anyone comes investigating the whole affair and puts the screws to them.

>>4442514
Oh yeah, was meaning to say, your name sounds familiar....War of the Roses maybe?

>>4442531
Most people seem to know it from War of the Roses or Dark Empire.

>>4442514
>>We will muster enemies of the government into a civil war

>>4442533
Damn i didn't realise it was you. Dark Empire is one of the best and probably the only quest ever completed on here.

>>4442514
>>We will muster enemies of the government into a civil war
I hear war can be very profitable

>We will muster enemies of the government into a civil war
>>4442518
>>4442528
>>4442554
>>4442616

>Writing

>>4442614
Hey thanks! Definitely one my my favorites. Let's see if we can recapture the glory

>>4442514
>We will muster enemies of the government into a civil war

Later in the day you find Ghost Bear drilling soldiers in a wide open hangar space. On seeing you, he turns control over to his subordinate and meets with you.

“Training going well I hope,” you say.

He nods. “The men we freed are capable enough, they certainly seem loyal. Taipan especially.”

“So I’ve heard,” you say. “What’s his background?”

“SAS sniper,” Ghost Bear says with a measure of grudging respect. “He’s been setting new records across our shooting ranges.”

“Is that so?” you say.

Ghost Bear nods. “His men are rough but they will fight hard.”

“I’ve just had a meeting with Baroness,” you say, watching the new troops conduct firing drills and obstacle course training. “Our target will be Badhikistan. We’ll topple the government and install our own.”

“You don’t aim small,” Ghost Bear says.

“You have experience with the region?”

He shakes his head. “No. Too far from home for me. But I know the type. Victims of the Russians, still recovering from that.”

“Something we can use to our advantage?”

“I am sure,” Ghost bear idly fidgets with his bone necklace. “The people in this region, those out of power are quite removed from the world. Men like us can present ourselves as saviors or conquerors and they will accept it.”

“What sort of factions are you expecting?”

“That is more the purview of the Baroness,” he says.

“Indulge me.”

“Tribes people, those in the outskirts of the nation. They will be accustomed to harsh life, but uneducated. Smugglers or criminals as well. Mountain passes like these are vital routes to bring opium from the south to cities further north.”

“Drug lines? This is a surprise.”

“Another possible revenue source if you don’t mind crossing everyone.”


>How confident are you that our men can handle toppling a government?
>Are Taipan’s men ready for action?
>I want you to be ready soon for a planning session once we have intel on this nation
>Write in

>>4442675
>>Are Taipan’s men ready for action?

>>4442675
>I want you to be ready soon for a planning session once we have intel on this nation

>>4442675
>How confident are you that our men can handle toppling a government?
>Are Taipan’s men ready for action?

>>4442675
>Are Taipan’s men ready for action?
>I want you to be ready soon for a planning session once we have intel on this nation
Taipan's a sniper, huh? That'll come in handy.

>>4442675
>>How confident are you that our men can handle toppling a government?
>>Are Taipan’s men ready for action?

>>4442676
>>4442677
>>4442678
>>4442682
>>4442686

Looks like we'll just do all of them.

>Writing

“Are Taipan’s men ready for action?”

“They will be in time for the main mission. For now I drill them. It might be good to have them cut their teeth on something smaller.”

“A raid somewhere?”

“Sure,” Ghost Bear says, “I know that a lot of Opium passes through this area north to Omsk. If we hijack a shipment we can sell it on the black market and make some profit.”

“Violent action might draw attention to ourselves here,” you say, “But I will consider it. I have no doubts in are ability to pull off hit and fade operations, but do you think our men can handle toppling a government?”

Ghost Bear considers this a moment before answering, “I think it is doable. The key will be to strike hard and fast. We won’t win any battles of endurance. But if we can make the enemy bow before we run out of gas then all will work out in our favor.”

“Very good. Leave that to me. Baroness is working on the information we need to do just that. Be ready for final planning when she gets that.”

“How long?”

“Four weeks is her guess.”

“Four weeks is a long time with nothing to do but train,” Ghost Bear says dourly.

“I said you should leave that to me. You have your orders, carry them out.”

“As you wish, Commander.”

Ghost Bear resumes training Taipan’s battalion and you make your way out of the hangar and into the cool mountain air outside. It beats the baking Libyan heat though you do miss the easy access to high quality fighters and mercenaries.

Four weeks before you can plan the operation. Four weeks to let the heat die down. So far there has been no action at the Snake Den, but you don’t think it’s been long enough to be sure it’s safe. Your gut reaction is to spend that time lying low, training, and integrating your new units, but you are also tempted to spend it actively.

Ghost Bear’s proposal to raid an opium shipment seems sound, a good way to get cash with minimum risk though preying on criminals also has the chance of sabotaging your own drinking supply as it were.

You have another idea forming in your head of extorting the Russian government. Demanding a cash payment wired to you or else using Wild Weasel’s Rattler squadron to destroy a target of your choice in their country, probably an oil well. So long as your price is reasonable you think they’ll pay up.


>Lay low and train
>Send Ghost Bear and Taipan to hijack an opium shipment
>Have Wild Weasel’s Rattlers destroy Russian oil well unless they pay ransom
>Write in

>>4442704
>Send Ghost Bear and Taipan to hijack an opium shipment
Soon Cobra won't have to worry about a drinking supply, because our puppet government will give us all the gold we'll need for a long while. Plus, this is a good mission for Taipan's squad to cut their teeth on.

>>4442704
>Send Ghost Bear and Taipan to hijack an opium shipment

>>4442704
>Send Ghost Bear and Taipan to hijack an opium shipment

>>4442704
>>Send Ghost Bear and Taipan to hijack an opium shipment

>>4442704
>>Send Ghost Bear and Taipan to hijack an opium shipment

>>4442707
>>4442710
>>4442718
>>4442719
>>4442720

>Writing

After some inner deliberation you dispatch Ghost Bear and Taipan on their mission with Taipan’s battalion, taking some transport helicopters and jeeps out to lay ambush. You don’t burden them with your presence, trusting your subordinates can handle a simple mission like this.

Within days you receive word of success, a short shoot out with drug smugglers in a mountain pass ended with victory as Cobra took possession of the opium shipment, flying it back to your base.

“They were great, Commander,” Ghost Bear says. “Taipan is quite a good shot. His men are rough, but they handled everything well.”

“Whatever kinks you saw, make sure you get them worked out before our operation.”

“Yes, Commander.”

The news of a successful heist is welcome to you, but it follows news that your former Snake Den in Libya was raided by British special forces. Of course, there was nothing for them to find, but it sours your spirits a little to know they were able to find it at all. All the same, you can’t let it get you down. You’ve spent these days mostly alone, scheming, planning, brooding, recalling what all this is for. Recalling your life before you made yourself Cobra Commander.

With a word you assemble a personal guard and leave the base in a jeep, driving to the nearest black market bazaar in a nation riddled with them. You have a sudden surplus of funds so you might as well spend it before the attack of Badhikistan.

The showing of goods here is fairly meager. No weapons of mass destruction and no modern military gear. Still, it has some offerings that you don’t possess.

A quartet of armored attack helicopters catches your eye, complete with small passenger compartment, missile complement, and trained pilots. They would supplement your cargo helicopters nicely and provide aerial fire support in ways the Rattlers can’t really provide.

There is also a platoon of wheeled anti-tank APCs. Armored scout vehicles carrying roof-mounted anti-tank missiles. They would provide your tank battalion with a bit more tactical flexibility and your jeeps with sorely needed armor and firepower.

Lastly, you note the same offering from last time. An aging Russian nuclear bomber, the long-range kind. This one has no nuclear bombs, just a stripped out bomb bay but it is fast, spacious, and fairly maneuverable. You could envision it as an airborne heavy weapons platform or a mobile HQ, but right now it’s just an empty plane.


>Attack helicopters
>Anti-tank scout APCs
>Old Russian nuclear bomber
>Write in

>>4442781
>Attack helicopters

>>4442781
>Attack helicopters
air-cav all the way

>>4442781
>Attack helicopters

File: 1357921934461.jpg (156 KB, 750x600)

156 KB JPG

>>4442781
>Attack helicopters

>>4442781
>>Attack helicopters

>>4442808
Nice one. made me kek.

>>4442787
>>4442788
>>4442800
>>4442808
>>4442835


>Cobras for Cobra

>Writing

File: NotACobra.png (930 KB, 801x441)

930 KB PNG

You circle one of the helicopters, admiring its curves and angles, stopping before the armored bubble canopy. “I’ll take the lot.”

The helicopters are flown to your base before long and painted cobalt, some with a serpent hood/fang motif on the nose. They look fearsome and you can’t help but be proud. All that remains now is to secure Badhikistan and the gold mines.

You assemble the leadership of Cobra to hear Baroness’s findings. Your force now has a motley collection of elite operatives and leaders are you command. Four battalions of foot infantry also possessing off road jeeps are commanded by yourself, Ghost Bear, Major Bludd, and Taipan. You have a squadron of Rattler fighters led by Wild Weasel, a tank battalion and a flight of helicopters with armored attack helicopters as well.

“I’ve been in coordination with various underground elements in Badhikistan,” Baroness says. “There are three primary factions that will be backing us up. The Nealsti people from the northern highlands are no friends of the current government. Short on training, short on weapons, they are numerous and loyal to our stated goal. Second is a handful of smuggler groups who are looking for a more pliant government. Currently a large chunk of their profits are being eaten up by government bribes and tariffs. If we can promise them laxer restrictions then they can provide weapons to the Nealsti people.”

“And the last group?”

“A group of exiled army officers living in the west of the country. A sort of rebel band. Small, but experienced and well armed. Frankly their assistance would be invaluable but-” she adjusts her glasses, sliding them up the bridge of her nose with her middle finger, “-I suspect they have their own designs for the country.”

You frown, “Baroness, before we discuss the smugglers and tribers people- I thought we’d agree to avoid the entanglements a coup would bring.”

“We did, and we still can. I have confidence that we can get these men to fight for us with the proper motivation.”

(1/2)

“You suggest . . .?”

“A decapitation strike,” she says. “An elite team can infiltrate their stronghold and eliminate their leaders, specifically the ones who might seek to reclaim power. If we dress this action up like a government strike then we have a leaderless, angry, and well-prepared group of fighters on our side.”

“And if we fail,” Bludd says, “If someone bungles it or they’re not as stupid as you think, then you’ll plant a pre-baked resistance right in our backyard.”


“A calculated risk,” Baroness replies, her voice cold.

“Ghost Bear, can you undertake an operation like that?” you ask.

“With a handpicked team, yes. Taipan and some others. I can get in, kill you who say, and get back out.”

“Just like Bamenda, eh Ghost Bear?” Bludd asks with a vicious smile.

Ghost Bear glares back but does not reply.


>We will allow the rebels to help us as they are
>We will kill their leadership and blame the government
>We will do this without their help
>Write in

>>4442899
>>We will kill their leadership and blame the government

>>4442899
>We will kill their leadership and blame the government

No risk, no gains. We've not got where we are by playing it safe.

>>4442899
>We will kill their leadership and blame the government

>>4442899
>We will kill their leadership and blame the government

>>4442904
>>4442911
>>4442943
>>4442952

>Writing

“They’ll help us whether they want to or not,” you say firmly. “Ghost Bear, Taipan, see to it.”

“Yes, Commander.”

“I can track down the appropriate travel papers for your team,” Baroness says. “We’ll ensure you hit just before the main attack is meant to be launched.”

“And these smugglers said they will handle the arming of the Nealsti for us?” you ask.

“Provided we are willing to turn a blind eye to their future operations and waive any tariffs or bribes in the future,” Baroness says. “It’s a good deal for the short term, but we’ll be missing out long term.”

“What’s to stop us from agreeing and then changing our mind?” you ask.

“The same network that built our insurrection may be used to build another.”

“Scum like that ain’t good for much,” Major Bludd says. “I’d just ice em all now and bring the weapons in ourselves. Then we take all that revenue for us once the opium starts flowing again.”

“How many people are we talking about?”

“One hundred, maybe two,” Baroness says. “They’re not soldiers though they are no strangers to conflict and they know this area. If we accept their help we also won’t have to worry about getting weapons to our Nealsti allies.”


>Accept the smugglers help in exchange for free reign to do business
>Turn them down, we will want the revenue from their business
>Send Bludd to destroy the smugglers and use their routes to bring in weapons yourself
>Write in

>>4443014
>Accept the smugglers help in exchange for free reign to do business

Once we're in power we can easily take the floor out from under them by legalizing whatever is contraband. Thus making them obsolete.

>>4443014
>Send Bludd to destroy the smugglers and use their routes to bring in weapons yourself
Pretend to accept there terms, until Bludd shows up. NO SURVIVES!!!!!!

>>4443014
>>Send Bludd to destroy the smugglers and use their routes to bring in weapons yourself

>>4443014
>Send Bludd to destroy the smugglers and use their routes to bring in weapons yourself

>>4443031
>>4443034
>>4443042

>Writing

“Baroness, you can inform the smugglers that we’ll accept their deal,” you say.

“Major Bludd, your battalion will root them out and secure their stockpiles. We’ll deliver the weapons ourselves.”

Bludd grins maliciously back at you.

“I’ll relay the message,” Baroness says, apparently unphased by your decision.If both operations go well then we’ll be set for a strike at the capital, Shymkent. The central government’s authority is mostly centered here. It is here that his elite guard is stationed and where the presidential palace is. Effectively the plan I envision is for an uprising in the countryside and mountains followed by a general advance on the capital by our Nealsti allies. With the president’s attention occupied we can have the rebel forces back with our own launch a direct assault and secure the governmental apparatus- the palace, the airport, everything.”

“Street fighting might be messy,” Ghost Bear says.

“If we don’t get through it quickly it will chew us up,” Taipan agrees.

“What about something more precise?” Bludd says. “One force to draw attention, one to secure the airport, and another to infiltrate the palace and nab the president. Bag that bastard and I think we’ll have a quick win.”

“A lot of points of failure,” Ghost Bear says. “A lot of chances for disaster. I would favor one large, rapid strike at the presidential palace with everything we have. Whatever they have will be no match for the combined firepower of Cobra.”

“Then if we take the palace and they don’t give up? We’ll have an elite guard on high alert, an airport in enemy hands. We’ll have the exact kind of meat grinder you’re worried about.”

“Separately we risk being destroyed piecemeal.”


>The original plan is fine, a general attack on the city with the rebel forces at our side should do what we want.
>We will go with Bludd’s precision attacks on keypoints across the city
>We will go with Ghost Bear’s lightning strike at the presidential palace
>Write in

>>4443073
>>We will go with Ghost Bear’s lightning strike at the presidential palace

>>4443073
>We will go with Ghost Bear’s lightning strike at the presidential palace

>>4443073
>>We will go with Ghost Bear’s lightning strike at the presidential palace

>>4443073
>We will go with Ghost Bear’s lightning strike at the presidential palace

>>4443073
>We will go with Bludd’s precision attacks on keypoints across the city

>>4443081
>>4443101
>>4443112
>>4443123

>Writing

Sorry for the delay guys

>>4443191
SHAME ON YOU.

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>>4443201

“I favor a direct approach. Ghost Bear’s plan has merit. We’ll divide into two teams. One airmobile with the helicopters and one rolling column with tanks and jeeps. Ghost Bear, your team will take the choppers and secure the palace. Major Bludd, yours will drive the main column.”

Bludd nods, giving no argument.

“And my role?” Baroness asks.

“Are you comfortable with dirty work?” you ask.

“If it’s necessary then it isn’t dirty,” she says.

“Baroness, you can accompany my battalion.”

She smiles.

“The Nealsti uprising will draw off their main force while the rebel attack on the city will divert the Elite guard. Our precision attack on the Palace will secure the president and end the fighting. Ghost Bear, Major Bludd, while your teams will rendezvous with the rest of our force before the attack. Keep your men on a short leash. I won’t have any petty opportunism derail this operation.”

Your subordinates all nod agreement. “Yes, Commander.”


>Cobra!!! (Proceed to the attack)
>One more thing (Write in)

>>4443214
>Cobra!!! (Proceed to the attack)

>>4443214
>Cobra!!! (Proceed to the attack)

I think I'll hold here for now, seems like things have slowed down a lot. I am taking off tomorrow for planning and then we will proceed on Thursday!

Feel free to spitball ideas and discuss future plans and I can find a way to work these schemes into the quest in the future.

Thanks for playing everyone!

>>4443253
Thanks for the run bossman
>Cobrastan
It warms the cockles of my heart that Cobra Commander remains a megalomaniac.

Once we get the President we'll have get him on the airwaves as soon as we can to have him call of the Elite Guard. Hopefully he won't need too much leverage to convince him.

>>4443272
>Cobrastan
inb4 papers, please happens in the US

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>>4443524

>>4443700
You posted that literally seconds after I checked here for updates. I just checked the catalog to see if there were any new threads up and saw cobraquest at the top

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>>4443700