Chapter Text
He was no simple minder! Storm Shadow thought with a tinge of irritation, he didn’t know if he should feel insulted or resigned. Watching over a journalist who was in way over her head felt beneath him.
The blue clad guards stood a bit straighter as Storm Shadow passed through the door. The ninja in white instilled equal measures fear and respect wherever he went on the base. He hardly noticed them, too caught up in his own inner turmoil to bother.
Annoyed he hurried to catch up with the communications lady who strode with clicking heels over the tarmac towards the small jet that was just powering down. The last-minute change to his schedule was not unexpected, he did work for an unstable lunatic after all. Nevertheless, it was infuriating – he had plans. Babysitting a journalist for the next few days was not part of those plans. But he guessed it was better that he did it than anyone else at the base, dealing with civilians was not Cobras strongest suite.
The journalist in question, Amanda Grates, must be somewhat crazy herself - or suicidal – no journalist with any sense of self-preservation would request not only an interview with the Cobra Commander but to be embedded with the organisation. Why the Commander had agreed was beyond him, it probably stoked his ego if nothing else. The journalist had been thoroughly vetted and apparently passed which, led them to this moment.
Journalists were a special kind of dogged crazy … the thought made him smile behind his mask. There was a journalist, as stubborn as they come, who held a special place in his life. It was too long since they had gotten together now. They had both been busy with their own lives. Having a secret girlfriend was not an easy feat when you were the number one Cobra ninja.
That they had been able to have any kind of relationship was a miracle. It was only made possible by the Cobra commander’s absolute belief that his programming had a complete hold on Tommy’s mind this time around. In reality he had broken free from the brainwashing about a year ago, much thanks to his journalist friend. Without the Commander’s absolute conviction that he had Tommy, AKA Storm Shadow, under his control, he would never have sent him undercover. It was testament to how screwed up his life was that he felt grateful for it. It was while posing as a member of the board of the Japanese/American research company TechniQuant that everything changed to the better. Without it he would never have met Trixie or been able to fake pieces of a normal life with her now and then.
Kristina “Trixie” Johnsson journalist, war correspondent and climbing enthusiast came into his life by pure chance. Assigned seats next to each other on a flight out of Addis Ababa near a year ago they had quickly picked up a conversation and when it turned out both were headed for Denver, they had somehow kept company all the way. It wasn’t like him at all.
He had to admit he had a weakness for blondes and this slender blue-eyed blonde took his breath away. She had that look of someone with a fair deal of Scandinavian heritage somewhere in her blood line, an athlete’s body he couldn’t but worship and a sharp mind that never seized to amaze him. That she was crazy fit for a civilian and into training and healthy living was a definite bonus.
Making time for each other was hard. But in between her work, his undercover assignment and infrequent reporting in to Cobra as well as his more clandestine undertakings they somehow fell in love and made a life together. She had no idea of who or what he was of course but it seemed to fit her that they weren’t always together. Trixie said she had met few men who could accept her as she was.
Her work frequently took her away for extended periods, covering the various conflicts and wars plaguing the world. He didn’t understand her drive to be a witness and the voice of those who couldn’t make their voices heard. He had read her stories and they were sharp, disturbing and naked, raw descriptions without wavering or looking away from the harshness of war. These kinds of stories needed telling of course, he knew that, but still...
He worried some, who wouldn’t worry when his sweet, non-combatant girlfriend willingly travelled to the most dangerous places in the world. Actively seeking out the frontlines for her stories. He had seen the bruises and scars on her body when she got back from one or another conflict zone. Their car had been forced off the road she’d said once without further comment. He didn’t pry, but quietly wondered what else had happened, a car wasn’t “just” forced off a road. But he didn’t ask, he understood that there were things she would not discuss. Just like there were things he kept from her. His world, the life he lived in the shadows when she wasn’t looking.
He needed to keep her safe from his world, and deep inside he knew that their relationship could not continue for ever, sooner or later he would have to let her go or she’d be in danger. But that time was not now and hopefully would not be anytime soon.
Snapping back to here and now, Storm Shadow realized he had caught up with the communication person. The jet’s door had opened, folding out a short stair. Following the lady inside he nodded to the crimson guard in a civilian outfit standing just inside the heavy jet door, still smiling at the thought of Trixie he stopped dead. The heartbeat pulsing from the cabin, just barely distinguishable to his ears over the dying whirring of the engines was very familiar. He couldn’t think of one reason why the owner of that heartbeat would be here.
Surveying the inside of the small jet, he saw nothing out of the ordinary, two sets of facing lounge chairs on each side of the small aircraft. Another guard was on his feet in the aisle. The all too familiar heartbeat continued to calmly echo inside his head from the right.
Someone sat in one of the right-side seats, their back turned towards them. A black hood hid their features. The guard approached the figure, leaned in to say something and with a swift motion, he removed the hood to reveal a cascade of golden blond hair that glimmered in the faint light. The woman in the seat turned to face them, her striking blue eyes met theirs with a mix of curiosity and anticipation.
The communication lady launched into a greeting but he hardly heard her. He caught on within seconds, his eyes betrayed nothing as he folded his arms across his chest. But inside, he screamed in denial, unwilling to accept what his ears and eyes showed him.
“…do apologize for the inconvenience…security procedures and …” the communication person continued to chirp out pleasantries while the seated blond woman rose up, but he didn’t really pay attention, his focus was on the fair-haired woman.
“Oh no worries at all, I understand and I was told what to expect” The woman smiled and held out her hand “Amanda Grates, it’s nice to finally be here.”
Seeing her smiling face, hearing her voice he nearly panicked ... that wasn’t Amanda Grates, that was Trixie Johnson, his girlfriend. It had to be some kind of mistake, he thought, his mind tumbling with confusion and frustration. What was she doing here? No doubt looking for a story if he knew her right.
His initial shock was giving way to anger as he struggled to make sense of the situation. He wanted to demand an explanation, to know why she would put herself in danger like this. But he stayed silent, he needed to stay calm and focused if she was going to get out of this alive. She was in over her head and obviously had no idea about it.
The women shock hands and the mousy communication lady – Smith, he thought her name was, turned towards him, shivering slightly.
“This is Storm Shadow, the Commander’s personal bodyguard and confidant. He’ll be your escort while you are here Ms. Grates. We wouldn’t want anything to happen to you.” Smith smiled “This is a military facility after all and it can be dangerous. There are also areas that are off limits”
The journalist took him in for a heartbeat and for the briefest moment something shifted in her eyes and he flinched inwardly, had she recognized him? But she just smiled and extended her hand towards him “Nice to meet you Storm Shadow, I look forward to working with you all. I hope you will share your insights with me over the next few days”
He didn’t move, just looked back at her, refusing to take her hand. If he did, someone might see the slight tremble in his hand. Instead, he just nodded silently to her. Her smiled stiffened and she pulled back her hand, nodding in return.
Smith cleared her throat, flickering nervously with her hair, “Ah well, perhaps we should get going and settle Ms. Grates in her quarters? I know the Commander is eager to welcome her”.
Trixie collected a backpack from the overhead compartment and they filed off the Jet, passing over the tarmac towards the base proper.
All the way to the guest area the Smith woman prattled on about the base, the Commander and the next day’s schedule in a relentless tirade. Tommy silently hated her grating voice; it was not as bad as the Commanders but he wished she’d just shut up. His mind was reeling with the implications of his girlfriend’s presence at the Cobra base under a false identity, one good enough to fool Cobra intelligence. That meant it was a professional who’d made it up… Did someone set her up to this? Were the Joe’s involved? They would have told him, right?
When they reached the rooms set up for the journalist, he noted they had given her one of the nice rooms with a balcony and an on-suite bathroom. The view wasn’t spectacular but it was a hell of a lot better than his… his room didn’t even have a window.
In his opinion guests should be considered potential security risks, a room with direct access to the outside seemed idiotic. But maybe non-ninja didn’t to see the 3-meter drop as convenient for excursions. He guessed they figured it would be his problem.
Trixie wouldn’t cause that kind of trouble, would she? Judging by the stunt she’d just pulled getting here, he didn’t know her as well as he thought he did. Maybe her going off to investigate on her own wasn’t such a longshot. If she did – he would have to prevent it from becoming an issue. He also had to make sure to keep her in the dark about his identity. Anything else was unthinkable, he couldn’t answer the questions she would be bound to ask, or face the look in her eyes if she found out her partner was a member of a terrorist organization.
Silently cursing, he snatched the backpack from Trixie and emptied it on the bed. Irritation coloured his movements as he rifled through the contents. He didn't need this complication.
"Hey! Be careful with that, my camera is in there," Trixie protested.
He shot her a look that would have frozen an enemy in their tracks and she hesitated for a moment before continuing, "You could have just asked, you know?"
He thought she was a bit too gutsy for her own good. "Just stand back and let me do my job" he growled, changing his accent and intonation to masque his voice. The ever-infuriating Smith interjected, explaining that it was all part of the procedure. She was so annoying, maybe he should just kill her.
Trixie nodded and folded her arms, looking at him with an impassive expression. When he was done, she checked over her camera carefully with a sigh of relief.
The silence that followed the exchange was broken by Smith’s phone ringing. She picked up, frowned and gave short clipped answers to whomever was offending her on the other side of the line.
Holding a hand over the mic she turned to the other two, “It seems something has come up and the commander can’t receive you at the moment” she said in the direction of Trixie.
Trixie sighed and looked decidedly disappointed which Storm Shadow found somehow both hilarious and disturbing.
“I see” was all she said.
“Please excuse me, I need to address this, perhaps the two of you could umm... acquaint yourselves meanwhile? Do take the best care of Miss Grates, will you Storm Shadow, give her a run through of our expectations?
Without waiting for a reply, the communications lady strode out the door letting it close with a whisper behind her. Storm Shadow gritted his teeth; he would definitely kill her.
Trixie aimlessly picked at her things strewn about the bed, stuffing most of it back in the bag. She didn’t have much and it didn’t take long before she turned her look to him expectantly.
“I guess the Commander is a busy man?” She asked lightly with some dissatisfaction shining through.
Storm Shadow nodded in agreement. “That he is, I’m surprised he even bothered to have you come here, he’ll likely not have time for you.”
“Oh, we’ll see about that” she smiled and he could see a glint of her characteristic stubbornness in the look she gave him.
He snorted, trying to get into the role of someone not in love with her. Someone who would see her as a risk and a bothersome snoop.
“Miss Grates, for the remainder of your … visit, you’ll stay in your quarters when you’re not accompanied by myself, Ms. Smith or, even though it’s highly unlikely you’ll ever get to see him, the Commander or anyone in the staff appointed by one of us. You will follow orders as given to you and respect the …”
She held up a hand to stop his barrage, “Wait a minute, what do you mean stay here? I can’t work like that. You don’t understand, it’s not how it works to have a reporter embedded.” He’d managed to piss her off, the tension in her shoulders was a keen tell.
“No Miss Grates – You don’t understand, you are at a highly classified installation, you didn’t think we’d let you walk around freely, did you?” That’s a bit preposterous don’t you think?” He smirked behind the mask; she couldn’t see it but the sarcastic tone of voice was unmissable.
“So, what? I’m a prisoner?”
If that’s how you prefer to see it, sure.” Pausing he gave her a pointed look. “Maybe you should reconsider and go back? Just give the word and I’ll have you out of here in no time.”
Too late he stopped talking, chiding himself. He’d let too much of his feelings colour the words, too much of his normal voice slip in, maybe she didn’t notice?
She gave him an odd, searching look, his slip hadn’t gone unnoticed and he scrambled to find a way to fix it, distancing himself.
“I have a job to do, I’m not leaving until it’s finished, I was invited here to do it.” she answered defiantly, chin set in a stubborn expression.
He took a few steps closer, towering over her, if he reached out his hand he could touch her, hold her. Instead, he did his best to intimidate her, heart aching.
“Then you’ll follow these simple instructions and do as you are told?” he asked with a low voice. She folded her arms over her chest, watching him with weary eyes.
“You know about me?” he asked when she didn’t answer.
Again, that odd look from the jet passed over her face and she took an involuntary step back. “You have a reputation.”
“Good, then you know I’m serious, follow the rules!” he spat out and she finally nodded her acquiescence. He wanted to hug her fear away but he turned around to leave. He had to get away from her.
“I will get you when the commander is ready for you.”