And...here it is! The last chapter! Oh, I'm so sad that it's finished!

Well...there might be an epilogue, but I have to play around and see if maybe it wouldn't work better as a prologue for the next one. Because there's definitely a next one. I'm too attached to Nomad to just let her go now. Sounds stupid, doesn't it? But I love her, she's actually - in my mind - the best character I've ever written. And I think there's still room for her to develop. Hell, I can find room, dammit! :P

Thanks to everyone who stuck with this story all the way. To everyone who read it, I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. And to everyone who reviewed and PM'd, you have no idea how much your encouragement and advice helped. I know I've said it before, but I just said it again. :D

And so...here's the last chapter of Shadows. I hope it doesn't disappoint!

Nomad gave a sharp cry of pain as she was thrown unceremoniously to the floor, landing hard on her hands and knees in the small, concrete-walled cell. The only differences between this one and the one she'd woken up in on her first day on Cobra Island was that there was a small bunk with a thin, lumpy mattress bolted to the wall rather than a chain, and there was a toilet in the opposite corner.

This must be the deluxe cell. She cowered by the end of the bunk, her back to the wall, curling herself up as much as her wounds would allow.

"Give me the key and go find the doc. Then go get the food and water."

Nomad looked up at the dark-eyed man as he stood over her, glaring down. His sharp gaze roamed over her even as he spoke to the other troop.

Might as well sell it as best she could. She widened her eyes and shook her head quickly. "No...don't leave me with -"

She broke off, cringing away as the dark-eyed man drew his foot back. "Shut up!"

"What do you want the key -" the other troop started.

"I've lost a lot of buddies to the Joes," the dark-eyed man said. "I want some time with this one. Alone."

"I don't know…the Commander won't like it if he finds out," the other troop said nervously.

The dark-eyed man turned. "Well then, he won't find out. Will he?"

The troop cracked under the fierce stare. "N-no sir." He fumbled with the cell key, tossed it over and spun toward the door.

"And just ignore anything you might hear," the dark-eyed man said menacingly.

"Uh…yes, sir." The troop practically bolted out of the small, bare cell, slamming the door behind him. The dark-eyed man locked the door as he peered out the small Plexiglas window set at eye level. Apparently satisfied the other troop had gone, he pocketed the key, then rounded on Nomad.

Her heart was racing. What if she was wrong? What if it wasn't -

But it was.

"You know, I might have to start charging you a rescue fee," Storm Shadow said, ripping off his red Cobra mask and quickly kneeling beside her, inspecting her wounded shoulder.

Nomad uncurled herself, wincing. "Never thought I'd say this," she croaked, her throat rasping painfully, "but…I have the sudden urge to hug you."

"I'll take a raincheck on that." Storm gave her a small, concerned smile, then took in the rest of the damage. He swore (or she assumed he was swearing) in rapid Japanese as he pulled aside her bloodstained Cobra uniform and saw exactly what had been done.

"That's what I said," she replied dryly.

"I doubt it," he answered distractedly. "You just can't catch a break, can you?"

Despite herself, she grinned. It hurt…and in any case, it probably wasn't the best look with her cracked lips, puffy left eye and generally bruised-all-over face. "You're here, aren't you?"

"Lucky for you." The ninja returned the grin. "You can rest now. The doctor's on his way to patch you up, and that other guy's gonna bring water and food. Try to eat a little bit, get some strength back."

"What? But…can't we just go now?" she pleaded, looking at the ninja. "Please?"

He shook his head. "Not just yet. I know you want to, but I doubt you'll get far without -"

Nomad glared at him indignantly. "This is nothing! I've -"

Storm held a hand up. "I know what you've done," he said firmly. "But back then you didn't have to worry about escaping a heavily manned facility on top of everything else. Right?"

She hated to admit it, but he had a point. Nomad nodded reluctantly, sniffing and leaning her head back against the wall wearily. "Storm…I wanna get out of here."

"We're going to get you out soon," he reassured, offering his hands, helping her up and onto the bunk. "Don't worry."

His voice was quiet and - she wasn't used to hearing him sound like this - soothing. He was going to look out for her. Nomad's eyes started to close.

And then they shot wide open again, and she struggled to sit up. "Storm - the neurotoxin -"

"I know," he said quietly, nodding and forcing her down. "I heard it all."

"You have to go," she insisted, trying to push him away with her broken hands. "Forget about me, go tell Hawk!"

Storm Shadow shook his head and grabbed her wrists gingerly, placing them by her sides. "I have my orders, and unlike some people I could name -" he smiled at her, eyes mischievous, "I'm not going to question them. We're getting you out of here. You just need to get some rest, first." He gave her another critical look over. "Think you can hold out a little bit longer?"

She gave a nod. "You bet I can," she said. "Storm…thanks."

"Yeah," he replied. "You owe me two, now. I think I'll make it fifty bucks per rescue…" He paused, tilting his head to one side, and then he leaned down close to Nomad, his clenched fists either side of her head. "That's right, bitch!" he snarled without warning, suddenly pummelling the mattress.

She cringed away from him instinctively. "Wha -"

Storm tipped his head to the door.

"Oh," she mouthed, nodding and relaxing - well, relaxing as much as she could with an angry-seeming ninja leaning over her. Storm's unnaturally good ears had heard someone outside - right on cue, somebody pounded on the door. Nomad caught a glimpse of alarmed eyes looking in through the small window.

"Get some sleep. I'll be just outside, 'guarding' the door," Storm whispered, giving the mattress one last hard punch.

"What's going on in there? Open the door!"

Storm pulled his red mask up over his nose, crossed the cell in three strides and unlocked the door.

The doctor - it wasn't Mindbender, thank god, but the doctor who'd rescued her from Andy - rushed in, a medical kit in his hand, glaring at the ninja. "If you've touched -"

"Hah. Relax," Storm said. His voice was now cold and measured enough to make Nomad shiver involuntarily. "She's not worth the effort."

"Then get out," the doctor retorted harshly.

Nomad was a little impressed. The man had guts - or at least, no sense of self-preservation. Even in disguise, Storm Shadow had a…presence…about him that said he was not to be messed with, and the doctor had just kicked him out of the cell without a second thought. Brave man.

Storm threw a mocking salute and sauntered out into the corridor, locking the door behind him.

The doctor turned his attention to Nomad. "Christ…look at you," he muttered, drawing a syringe from the kit.

Nomad glanced at it fearfully. Needles meant bad things.

"Don't worry, it's just to dull the pain," the doctor said reassuringly. "It's okay…just calm down…"

She let him jab her in the arm, and, as he went to work, she closed her eyes.

It was okay. Storm was here. They -

Hang on.

The ninja had said, 'We're going to get you out of here.'.

Not 'I'. 'We'.

Storm Shadow wasn't the only Joe on the island.

Her friends had come to get her.

A few minutes after the doctor got there, the second troop stuck his head in the door and walked in, placing a tray on the floor beside the bunk. On the tray was a glass, a jug of water, a couple of slices of bread and a bowl of soup. Fittingly - or perhaps perversely - it smelled like chicken soup.

The doctor finished wrapping a bandage tightly around her gauze-packed shoulder. Nomad immediately leaned over, grabbed the jug and drank straight out of it, ignoring the glass. She didn't care if she threw up: she drank half the jug in one go. It was cold, and it felt like heaven as it went down her dry, raw throat.

Nomad swore she'd never take water for granted again.

"Take it easy," the doctor warned.

Nomad looked up at him, thought about telling him where he could stick it, then decided against it. He'd only ever been kind to her…probably kinder than he strictly had to be, being a Cobra.

She put the jug down and went for the soup, dunking chunks of the bread in and stuffing them into her mouth. She wasn't actually all that hungry, but she figured she'd need the strength a full stomach would give her for the escape attempt. She stopped halfway through, though, beginning to feel a little nauseous.

Roadblock made a killer chicken soup. She hoped he was here, with his .50 cal Browning machine gun. Now that would be a welcome sight…

"Alright now, let me get back to work," the doctor said, gesturing for her to lie back.

Without protest, Nomad obliged. Despite her many injuries, she was feeling better - probably because now she knew that she wasn't alone. Stormy was so close; just outside the cell. And there were other Joes around, somewhere…just waiting for a chance to bust her out.

Nomad wondered if Lowlight had come. She doubted it. He hadn't even gone to see her off at the bus stop - she'd hardly heard anything from him since. No text messages, nothing. Only Covergirl, in one of her many long phone calls, had mentioned him; she'd said he was okay, but that he'd taken to moping around by himself in the rec room again. Like he used to, before Nomad joined the Joes. Nomad wasn't surprised. The sniper liked being on his own.

Still…it'd be nice if he'd come on this mission…

As she closed her eyes and started to drift off, something else occurred to her. Any other time, she would have been afraid for the team here to get her; afraid that they'd end up like her old unit. But not now. Now, she was just grateful that she had people who cared enough to come after her. People who cared about her as much as Spider, Hotshot, Skipper and Matches had.

Did that make her selfish? Nomad didn't know, and at the moment she didn't really care. She could ask Psyche Out later, when she got home.

…Now there was a word she hadn't used for a long time: home.

The Pit.

Psyche Out would later call this 'One hell of a major breakthrough!'.

A deep, throbbing ache in her shoulder woke her up. Once again she didn't know how long she'd been asleep but, pain aside, she felt pretty well-rested. Actually, she felt more awake than she had since being on Cobra Island.

That was a good sign.

Nomad tried to sit up, but something pulled at her stomach. Wincing, she stopped moving, lifting only her head and pulling the Cobra uniform - stiff with blood - aside to check. There was a fresh bandage around her midsection, wrapped tightly. The doctor must've stitched her up again.

She tentatively rolled sideways, not wanting to bust open her wounds again. At least, not until there was good reason to. Like, say, an escape attempt.

Nomad wondered what Storm Shadow and the rest - whoever else was here - had in mind. Whatever it was, she probably wouldn't be much help to them, not with her broken fingers and screwed left shoulder. She might be able to somehow hold a gun in her right hand, balance it with her left wrist and pull the trigger with her unbroken middle finger…but her aim probably wouldn't be very good. She definitely wouldn't be throwing any punches.

Nomad crossed to the cell door and peered out of the Plexiglas window. There was a long corridor outside; her cell was at the very end. More doors lined the walls; most likely other cells. Outside hers, she could see the backs of two blue-helmeted heads. She kicked the door to get their attention.

Storm Shadow turned first. He glanced sideways at the other troop and said something that Nomad was pretty sure she was glad she couldn't hear. Then he gestured for her to back away. She did so, and then she heard the key in the lock.

Storm pushed the door open. "What?" he asked irritably.

She needed to talk to him alone. "I'm thirsty," she said.

He made a show of sighing impatiently, then turned to the other troop. "Go get the princess a drink," he ordered.

"But I -"

Storm glared.

"Right away, sir."

Storm watched until the troop was out of sight, then turned back to Nomad. "You slept for a day," he said, answering her question before she asked it. "The Commander's starting to get impatient. He'll send someone to get you once he hears you're awake."

Nomad blanched. "I have to get outta here, Storm," she said. "I told him I'd tell him everything -"

"You won't do that."

She rolled her eyes. "I know that. But when I don't, he'll put me back in the brainwave scanner. I can't handle that again, Storm, I won't be able to -"

"Don't worry. Just a little longer, and we'll be on our way," the ninja assured her.

"But -"

Storm Shadow looked at her. "Nomad, we've got you out of a bad situation before."

"Right. Sorry. I just -" She broke off and shrugged with her good shoulder, not wanting to admit just how much she needed to get out - or how worried she was.

Storm seemed to guess what she was thinking, anyway. Damn ninjas - Nomad often found herself wondering if both Storm Shadow and Snake Eyes were psychic. "I know you want in on the plan," Storm said quietly, "but it's better - safer - for the others if you don't."

Safer for the others? Nomad frowned. Just what exactly was Stormy's plan?

"Sit down. Get as much rest as you can," Storm said firmly. "It won't be long, now."

"What - but -"

He turned and closed the door behind him, leaving her standing in the middle of the cell, her mouth hanging open idiotically.

Damn ninja.

Half an hour later, the door opened again. Nomad looked up, saw that it wasn't Storm Shadow who'd walked in, and rolled slowly to her feet, trying to look as weak as she could.

"Hands out," the Cobra troop said gruffly.

She did as she was told. The troop cuffed her hands in front of her, then took a firm hold of her upper arm. "Move."

She hobbled slowly across the room. Storm Shadow and the other guard were still outside. Storm made eye contact as she passed and gave the slightest nod of his head.

So…this was part of the plan?

Nomad wasn't sure she liked this plan.

THUD!

Nomad looked behind her, only to see Storm Shadow throwing the limp body of the other guard into the cell she'd occupied, then lock the door. "What the -"

"In here," the troop holding her arm said, yanking her sideways into another room.

She was too confused to do anything but stare dumbly at the troop - and then he drew a gun, opened the door and fired out into the corridor. At Storm Shadow.

She didn't stop to think. Nomad slammed her body into him, knocking him sideways. The gun went flying - she scurried after it, picked it up clumsily and pointed it at the troop. "Don't move, asshole."

The troop stared - and then he sighed. "You don't ever quit, do you?"

Her finger tightened on the trigger. "I said -"

She stopped as the troop reached for his mask and pulled it down around his neck. "What…Flint?"

The warrant officer grinned roguishly at her, then his expression turned serious. "Storm just gave us the distraction we need. No doubt the security cameras - which he'll have taken out by now - caught him whacking that other guy."

Nomad was still trying to get past the fact that Flint was right in front of her. "So -"

"So Cobra's looking for a rogue troop - a Joe in disguise."

"But what about you?" she asked, confused.

He grinned again. "Why do you think I fired at him?"

It clicked. "So…they don't think you're a Joe, too…" Nomad shook her head. "This is your plan? Dammit, what if -"

Flint rolled his eyes, stood up and took his gun from her hands before removing the handcuffs. "You can poke holes in the plan after we get you the hell out of here. Now come on." He grabbed her elbow again and half-dragged her out the door.

Nomad's eyes went wide as she saw the damage Storm Shadow had already done. The several security cameras on the roof of the long corridor had all been taken out - several of them still had throwing stars lodged in the lenses. The bodies of at least five blue-uniformed troops lay sprawled on the floor, puddles of blood forming slowly around them.

Nomad swore to herself - she hadn't seen any weapons on Storm Shadow. Where had he hidden them all?

Actually, no. She didn't want to know that.

"Where are you taking the Joe?"

Flint and Nomad spun as they heard the voice from behind them. A lone Cobra troop was sticking his head through the slightly open door of yet another cell.

"To the Commander," Flint answered without hesitation. "He sent me down to get her. Why aren't you after the other one? There's a Joe disguised as one of us."

"I know; it's one of the ninjas. If you think I'm crazy enough to -"

Flint's eyes narrowed. "Cobra has no use for cowards like you," he said dangerously

"But - hang on a sec -"

Flint raised his gun and fired. The troop's head snapped backwards, a red and grey star splattering onto the door behind him.

"Come on," the warrant officer said, glancing down at Nomad. "Let's get you out of here."

Once again, the alarm was sounding. Flint and Nomad rushed to the elevators, only to find -

"Dammit, they cut the power." Flint swore. "Can you handle the stairs?"

Nomad nodded, and she and the warrant officer headed for the door. Flint went through first…and ran straight into a Crimson Guardsman.

"What the hell are you doing with the Joe?" the Siegie demanded.

Nomad's heart was pounding. It felt like it was loud enough to give them away. The Siegie had to be able to hear it.

"The Commander wants to question her," Flint answered calmly.

The Siegie flapped his hands impatiently. "Can't you hear the alarm? We've got a fucking intruder! Probably another Joe come for that one! Get her back to her cell, now."

"But the Commander ordered me to take her to him," Flint insisted.

The Siegie cocked his head. Nomad heard a tinny voice over his headset. "No, he didn't," he said slowly, "because he just ordered me to make sure she was still in her cell." His eyes widened and he slapped a hand up to key his mike. "Stairwell! Joes have the pris -"

SNAP!

Nomad blinked as the Siegie went down, his head twisted at an unnatural angle. Behind him stood a remarkably large troop in a uniform that was a little too small for him; several inches of his wrist showed beneath the sleeves of his blue shirt. His eyes were brown, fierce, and they scanned Nomad quickly before turning on Flint.

"Spook's've got the place pretty much in an uproar," he said. "We best get our asses outta here quick. An' you," he said, returning his gaze to Nomad, "you're more trouble'n you're worth, scrawny."

Nomad bit the inside of her cheek to keep from grinning. "I missed you, too, Beach."

He waved a hand. "Shut up an' let's go."

With Flint holding her left arm, Beach holding the other, Nomad was escorted up two flights of stairs in a convincing Cobra-like fashion. It seemed almost too easy that they could just walk out of here. In Nomad's experience, nothing ever worked that well.

Of course, this was no exception.

"There they are! Get 'em!"

"Down!" Beach shoved both Flint and Nomad aside as a volley of sparks bounced off the handrail beside them. He snarled loudly as a round hit him in the arm, whipped out a gun and started firing down the centre of the stairwell. Bullets pinged around him. "Looks like we been sprung, Flint! Get 'er outta here, Ah'll deal with these fuckers!"

Flint pulled Nomad to her feet, and they burst through the closest door - and right into the middle of a firefight.

The foyer was in ruins, the big desk that took up the front wall overturned, the grand columns around the outside of the room blasted to tiny pieces. Rubble covered the floor.

Hands pulled both Nomad and Flint down behind a corner.

"Nice of you to show up," Covergirl said, grimacing as she let loose a barrage of automatic fire in the direction of the overturned desk. "Now what?"

Flint tossed his Cobra gun in preference of the assault rifle lying on the floor nearby, sliding out on his belly to get it and taking cover again just as the floor erupted into tiny chips of tile. "Now we hold out until the cavalry gets here."

"The cavalry?" Nomad yelled over the gunfire, looking around for something she could use to help.

"Sure," Covergirl called back, glancing over her shoulder. "You didn't think Clutch, Rock 'n' Roll and Steeler would let us come without them, did you?"

Nomad spotted the grenade attached to the former model's combat webbing, yanked it off, pulled the pin and hurled it toward the desk. There was a cry of alarm, and the snakes taking cover behind the desk ran into the open to escape the blast, only to cut down by Covergirl's withering fire. The grenade went off - but only emitted a bright flash of light and a deafening bang. It was only a stun grenade.

"Let's move," Flint said.

Nomad went to follow, but swore as pain ripped across her belly. "Haaah…dammit," she breathed.

"What?" Covergirl asked, concerned.

"It's nothing. Just popped my stitches. Again."

"Can you -"

"I'm fine. Let's go." Flint, Covergirl and Nomad ran into the suddenly quiet foyer, heading for the large glass doors that were so very, very close. If they could get through them…

"Stop right there."

Flint spun, whipped his rifle up - and dropped it as a bullet ripped through his forearm. "Aaah!"

Nomad looked up. Standing just outside the elevator - the lift's lights were glowing again now, the power returned - was the metal-masked Cobra Commander himself, flanked by Firefly and Destro. It was the saboteur who'd fired the shot.

"Drop the weapons, please," Destro said, tilting his head at Covergirl.

With a string of words that Nomad never expected to hear from the former model, Covergirl threw her gun down, a disgusted expression on her gorgeous face.

"So," Cobra Commander began, walking forward almost jauntily. "I start out with one Joe, and now I have three." He paused. "Well…three live ones, anyway."

Nomad's heart leaped into her throat. Storm…Beach…what had happened? They couldn't be…

"Take me and let them go," she said, stepping forward.

"Nomad, no -" Covergirl started, reaching out.

Nomad shrugged Covergirl's hand off her shoulder, her eyes fixed on the head snake. "I wasn't going to tell you anything…you know that, right?"

"Of course," the Commander replied imperiously.

She took a deep breath. "Let them go and I'll tell you anything you want. You have my word as a Joe. But I have to see them leave. Alive."

"Don't be an idiot," Flint hissed, clutching at his arm.

Nomad ignored him. "You've got me," she insisted, looking at the Commander. "I'm done. I can't take anymore."

The Commander paused, a hand under his masked chin. "You do have a -"

SMASH!

"Move, move, move!"

Covergirl dived for her gun as Flint grabbed Nomad's arm and hauled her to the closest of the two VAMPs now fishtailing into the foyer, literally throwing her into the seat beside Clutch and then leaping onto the second jeep, driven by Steeler. Behind them, Rock 'n' Roll manned the gun, sweeping the already destroyed room with a hail of bullets. Vaguely, over the noise, Nomad heard the Commander screaming frantic orders. She glanced over - Firefly and Destro were dragging the Commander behind the remains of the desk. Once he was safely behind cover, Destro turned, raising his arm.

"Time to go!" Clutch said, throwing the jeep into reverse and rolling over the shattered remains of the glass doors he'd just smashed through - just as, with a puff of smoke and a hiss, a rocket flew from Destro's gauntlet-like glove and slammed into the floor right where the jeep had been moments before.

Nomad, eyes wide, glanced across at the mechanic. He stared back at her, looking almost as shaken as she felt. "Hey, Nomad. You look like shit."

Typical grease monkey. "Thanks, Clutch," she retorted, pressing her palm to the dashboard to steady herself.

"You're welcome. Buckle up," he advised, then, noticing the state of her hands, he reached across and did it for her. "We're gettin' you outta here, Nomad, don't you worry."

"Don't worry? When you're driving?"

"Cute. Real cute." The jeep skidded around in a quick 180 and took off, followed closely by the second with Flint riding shotgun and Covergirl on the gun.

Trees flew past in a blur of green and brown as they sped down the road, heading for the ocean.

"What about Beach and Storm?" Nomad asked.

Clutch didn't take his eyes off the road. "They're gettin' out the back way. They've got - ah, fuck me, that ain't fair."

"What?"

It didn't take long to figure out why Clutch was complaining. Ahead of them, looming into sight from above the trees, was a large helicopter - equipped with some nasty-looking missiles. It hovered over them menacingly, its rotors kicking up dust.

Rock 'n' Roll let out an intimidating roar and tilted the gun up as far as it could go, blasting away at the chopper's cockpit to no avail. The rounds chipped paint, but that was about all.

The Gatling gun mounted underneath the cockpit swivelled.

"Clutch…" Nomad urged.

"I'm thinkin'," the mechanic answered. He grabbed the radio. "We got incoming!"

"That's not the only incoming!" Covergirl's voice crackled back. "I got four Cobra jeeps on my ass! I gotta ditch 'em!"

Clutch spun in his seat. "Alright, alright! Split up! Meet at the pickup point!"

"You got it, Clutch."

The chopper hadn't made a move. It was like the pilots were gloating.

Clutch gunned the VAMP's engine. The jeep shot forward, beneath the chopper - Rock 'n' Roll swung the gun and aimed at the tail rotor. The chopper simply turned its heavy bulk and followed them, the Gatling now blazing a double trail behind them.

And then…

"Uh…Clutch? Can this thing go any faster?" Rock 'n' Roll asked.

The driver glanced quickly over his shoulder. "Shit."

Nomad turned as well, and saw a blast of fire issuing from the back of one of the chopper's missile tubes.

"Hold on," Clutch said through gritted teeth. "This's gonna get hairy."

The needle on the jeep's speedometer rose quickly as Clutch pressed his foot all the way down on the accelerator.

"Not fast enough, Clutch!" Rock 'n' Roll shouted.

"It's as fast as it'll go!" Clutch yelled back. "Why don't you shoot the fuckin' thing!"

"I'm trying!"

Nomad glanced over her shoulder. The missile was heading right for them - it was the most frightening thing she'd ever seen. "Hey, Clutch?"

"What?" he snapped, concentrating on the road.

"Wanna know my real name? It's -"

"Are you crazy? Not now, or we'll get blown to bits!"

"We're gonna get -"

"Not if I can help it," he said.

"Clutch…?" Nomad didn't like the glint in his eyes. "Clutch?"

"Hold on," he called. "Rock 'n' Roll!"

Behind her, Nomad saw the surfer dude drop and hold onto the rollbar for dear life. She braced herself.

Clutch swerved off the road, into the trees - and down the side of a small, but very steep, hill.

The Jeep bounced. It felt like it was going to flip right over onto its top, but - whether it was just pure luck or Clutch's driving skills - stayed upright.

A huge explosion rang out above them, and a few seconds later, bits of tree trunk, severed branches, and soil rained down on them. The missile had hit a tree trying to follow the jeep's heat trail through the dense foliage and detonated on impact.

Clutch braked suddenly at the bottom of the hill. Nomad winced as her seatbelt cut into her gut.

"Everyone okay?" Clutch asked breathlessly. He still held the steering wheel; his knuckles were white.

"Oh, yeah, just dandy," Rock 'n' Roll replied grumpily, shaking the debris off.

"I'm okay," Nomad said, ignoring the fresh warmth soaking into her Cobra uniform. She wondered vaguely how much blood she'd lost all up over the last few days.

Clutch glared at her. "And what the hell was that?"

"What the hell was what?" she asked, confused.

"Trying to tell me your real name? The hell were you thinkin'?"

"I was thinking we were about to die," she said honestly.

"Well…don't do it again."

"But -"

Whup whup whup.

Clutch groaned. "Oh, for…not cool." He turned to scowl up at the chopper. "Can't a guy get a break?" he yelled up at it.

The Cobra helicopter circled, getting into prime position to launch a second missile.

FWOMP!

"Huh?" Nomad looked around as something small arced gracefully into the sky and landed right inside the chopper's cabin. Through the cockpit window, she saw frantic movement - and then the whole chopper just blew outward in a white-hot explosion. It dropped out of the sky - no slow motion or anything, it just dropped - and landed with a huge boom, sending a blast of hot air over her, Clutch and Rock 'n' Roll.

"What -" she started.

Clutch grinned and pointed.

Nearby, kneeling in the back of a third VAMP, was Bazooka, his grenade launcher still resting on his shoulder. Just in front of him, looking slightly frazzled with her hands over her ears, her short, shaggy hair sticking up all over the place, was Jeckle. Lady Jaye sat in the driver's seat, accompanied by the red-clad medic, Lifeline.

Clutch pulled up beside Jaye's jeep. "Took your time," he said, winking.

"Hey, you better thank us for saving your hide, grease monkey," Jaye retorted. She looked past him to Nomad. "Hey, kiddo. How you doin'?"

"I've been better," Nomad admitted. "Jeckle, you look nervous."

"Not nervous," the other woman answered. "I just don't like Bazooka aiming that grenade launcher right over my head."

Bazooka grinned. "Sorry," he said bashfully.

Lifeline jumped out of the car and rushed around to Nomad's side. His eyes wavered slightly behind his glasses as he looked at her. "God, Nomad, what'd they do to you?"

She gave him a wry grin. "Apart from a few new things, not much that hasn't already been done before."

For a moment, he just stared. Then she saw the look of realisation on his face. "No…they didn't -"

"They did, but we don't have time. I'm okay for now, Lifeline. They had a doctor look after me. I've just got a few stitches that need doing up again, that's all."

He bit his lip. "I'd prefer to take a look now -"

"She's right," Jaye interjected, "we don't have time. We've got to get to the LZ. Nomad, how would you feel about getting fuck out of here?"

"I would like to get the fuck out of here very much."

Lady Jaye grinned. "Thought you might."

She was about to say more when a rain of bullets pinged off the hood of her jeep. Everyone jumped into action immediately - Lifeline shoved Nomad's head down and dived on top of her, protecting her with his own body. Clutch, Lady Jaye and Bazooka picked up their guns and started firing back, taking cover behind the jeeps. Rock 'n' Roll and Jeckle manned the guns mounted on the back of the VAMPs.

Something in Clutch's jeep popped, then began to hiss ominously. From the corner of her eye, Nomad saw a thin finger of steam spouting from the front of the VAMP.

Then, just as suddenly as it had began, the shooting stopped.

"Did we get 'em all?" Jeckle asked bluntly.

"Yeah," Rock 'n' Roll answered, leaning over to high-five her.

"Good."

"Yeah, but we didn't get 'em before they got the VAMPs," Clutch grumbled, looking at the pockmarks and the steam issuing from his engine, then gesturing to the two flat tyres on Jaye's jeep. "Looks like we're walkin' outta here."

"Then let's go," Nomad said, shoving Lifeline off her. He looked at her, concerned, as he noticed the fresh blood on her uniform. "We've got a landing zone to get to."

"But -" the medic started.

She smiled at him. "Look, PIA, I didn't come this far to give up now. We're all going home."

It almost made her laugh: when she said the last word, every single one of them, apart from Bazooka, who didn't know her that well - looked sharply at her.

"That's right," she said firmly. "So…who's got a spare gun for me?"

Rock 'n' Roll took point, with Lady Jaye behind him. Then came Lifeline and Nomad - she now had Jeckle's .38 calibre pistol literally bandaged to her hand, so all she had to do was pull the trigger. Jeckle followed, then Clutch. Bazooka took drag, his namesake weapon strapped across his back, an assault rifle now in his hands.

Nomad felt better now that she had a gun. She felt less useless - less of a burden to the others. Of course, once she was out of ammo, the gun would be pointless unless one of them was near enough to help her reload, but still…she felt better.

Naturally, Lifeline had been reluctant to bandage the weapon to her hand. In the end, Nomad had threatened to take the gun anyway, and risk damaging her hands even more.

The medic had seen things her way.

So now they crept through the trees, skirting around the remains of the crashed Cobra helicopter, crawling back up the steep hill, Nomad with her arms around Lifeline's neck as the surprisingly strong medic piggybacked her up. She kept her gun well clear of him so it wouldn't even brush against his uniform.

They were met with the mess the missile had caused not five minutes ago; a large, burnt crater on the side of the road.

"Clear!" Rock 'n' Roll called surveying the road in both directions. The Joes emerged from the trees.

"I can keep carrying you," Lifeline offered, looking over his shoulder at Nomad.

She shook her head. "My legs work fine," she said stubbornly.

Their goal was the Cobra Island airstrip, all the way across the other side of the island. The only problem was, they only had seven minutes to get there. In the VAMPs, they could've got there with plenty of time to spare. On foot, they'd be cutting it close.

"Let's move," Jaye said. "If we cut across the island in a straight line, we should be able to make it."

They ducked across the open road and into the trees on the other side. Nomad repressed the memories that came flooding back; walking through the jungle with her guts ripped open and bleeding. This was different. This time, her team had made it. They were all making it home today.

"We're drifting to the right," she realised. "Rock 'n' Roll, head for that tree…the big one. The other big one - that's it."

Five minutes left. Technically, it didn't really matter if they were late - the time had been set mainly to accommodate for getting the VAMPs on board the C-130 - but they had no radios, no way of letting Wild Bill know where they were for a pickup by harness.

They jogged on, single file. Nomad was getting tired - loss of blood and the adrenaline of the battle wearing off were taking their toll on her body. She was starting to ache all over.

"You okay?" Lifeline asked.

She gritted her teeth and nodded. "Yep."

Four minutes.

Somewhere close by, they heard the sound of gunfire and the rumble of at least three engines. One sounded like a VAMP. And then an explosion shook the ground - and Nomad could no longer hear the VAMP engine. "Covergirl…"

"Just coz we can't hear her doesn't mean she's gone," Jeckle said quietly, planting a hand in the middle of Nomad's back. "Hey, did I tell you I got my tattoo?"

"No," Nomad said, knowing full well that the other woman was just trying to distract her. "Is it on your ass?"

Jeckle grinned. "Nope, it's in a fully viewable place. Check it out." The short Joe held out her left hand, keeping her gun gripped firmly in her right, to reveal a tattoo of an anchor on the back of it. A bracelet of rope circled her wrist, 'tying' the anchor on. The tattoo itself was still slightly flaky - she must've only got it a few weeks ago.

"'Wreck helped me design it," she admitted.

"So when you dump him, you're gonna have an anchor on you reminding you of him for the rest of your life."

"Yep. Reminding me never to go out with a damn sailor ever again," Jeckle said, grinning. "I want another one. Another tattoo, I mean. They're addictive, aren't they?"

Nomad didn't answer, glancing around distractedly. Something was -

"Hit the dirt!" Lady Jaye shouted.

Jeckle tackled both Nomad and Lifeline to the ground as several rounds zinged past their heads. She was up in an instant, firing back at the blue-suited Cobra troops now circling them.

Nomad started to breath heavily. It was just like Sierra Gordo. Any time now, one of them would get shot…

Nomad lifted her right hand and used her unbroken middle finger to squeeze the trigger of the gun bandaged to her hand. The slight recoil hurt like hell - but two of the five rounds hit their targets. Two snakes fell. The other three shots went wide, and Nomad saw the closest trooper smile behind his red mask. He raised his gun…and then a red dot appeared on his forehead, and his whole head simply exploded in a burst of blood and grey matter. An instant later, another trooper fell, a large hole in his chest.

CRACK! CRACK!

A third troop fell, and a fourth, and Nomad's rapidly beating heart felt like it just froze. She knew that sound. That was the sound of a sniper rifle - one with a starlight scope attached to the barrel.

Lowlight was here!

Somebody grabbed her and lifted her to her feet. "We've gotta run," Clutch said. "Can you -"

"I wish people would stop asking if I can handle it," Nomad grunted.

"Then move that shapely ass!"

One minute to go. One minute before Wild Bill touched down on the Cobra Island airstrip in the cargo plane.

Nomad ran, her wounded shoulder burning, her belly feeling like it was ripping further open with each step, her hands throbbing. Each breath tore from her lungs. Lifeline, Jeckle and the others, though they could obviously run faster, kept pace with her. Only Rock 'n' Roll had sprinted ahead, to let the others know they were on their way.

She was slowing them down. The thought only encouraged her to push herself more, to run faster.

Then the trees ended abruptly, in a line, and they were out in the open on the airstrip - in the middle of a fierce battle.

Covergirl, Steeler, Flint and a few other Joes - Nomad couldn't see who - were sheltered behind the charred remains of their VAMP, firing at the Cobras barricaded behind their own jeeps in the middle of the runway. More snakes were on the way - somewhere close by, she could hear the rotor blades of another chopper.

Not good. If that chopper was equipped with missiles, too…

Bazooka went down on one knee, aiming his grenade launcher at the barricade. He didn't get time to fire; at that point, the troops noticed the new group standing in the open, with no cover, and opened fire.

Lifeline was hit in the leg. Clutch took a round through his shoulder, but kept firing, gritting his teeth and keeping his finger jammed on the trigger of his rifle. Nomad slipped her arm around Lifeline and limped back to the trees, the closest cover she could find. "Lifeline -"

He gave her a brief, pained grin. "Nomad, if you can survive what's been done to you - twice - I can handle a single little bullet."

Despite the situation, Nomad was oddly touched. "Help me get this gun off, it's getting in the way -"

Lifeline sat forward - and then his eyes flicked past her, going wide.

Nomad spun to see a Cobra troop standing over her, gun levelled at the bridge of her nose.

This was it. She leaned back, shielding the medic as much as she could.

And then, without warning, the troop's legs gave way and he collapsed.

"What the -"

There was a metal star lodged in his neck, glinting dangerously. Nomad raised her eyes as two figures emerged silently from the trees, one wearing all black, the other wearing a Cobra uniform.

Snake Eyes and Storm Shadow. "That's one hundred and fifty you owe me now," Storm said, grinning. "I'll just take your next paycheck, will I?"

"I'll gladly hand it over," she answered, breathing a sigh of relief. "Wow. Hawk pulled out all the stops this time, didn't he?"

*Actually, everyone on this mission volunteered,* Snakes signed.

"They…really?"

He nodded. *But we can chat later. We have a plane to catch. And somebody back there wants to see you.*

Nomad just stared in awe as the two ninjas strode past, Snake Eyes pulling a sword from the sheath on his back. Storm Shadow held his hand out. "We checked your apartment after we got the call from your boss saying you hadn't come in for work. We found this," he said.

She looked at what was in his hand; her birthday present, the shiny, sharp ninja knife.

"Mind if I borrow it for a while?" Storm continued.

She held her busted hands up. "Go for it," she said. "Kick some ass for me, huh?"

Storm grinned like a maniac. Snake Eyes tilted his head, then nodded at something behind her.

"What -" She turned, fearful that it might've been another Cobra troop.

It wasn't. It was somebody far more capable of stopping her heart.

"Lowlight?"

He didn't reply, just gripped his sniper rifle tighter and stood over her and Lifeline, leaning out from behind the tree every now and then to fire a single round into the fray beyond. Nomad thought his stance was protective…but then, she could've been imagining things.

She realised she didn't care. Everyone on the mission had volunteered, Snakes had said…which meant that Lowlight had volunteered, too.

He'd wanted to come and get her.

"Lifeline, you okay?" she asked, not taking her eyes off the sniper.

"I should be asking you that," he answered irritably, "but yeah, I'm fine."

"Good," Nomad answered, "because Wild Bill just got here."

The big C-130's wheels screeched on the runway, barreling straight through the Cobra barricade, sending the jeeps - and any troops who were quick enough to get out of the way – flying. The plane slowed, making a wide turn at the end of the asphalt, the loading ramp already opening. Three more VAMPs came bursting out of the hold before the lamp had finished lowering.

Duke drove one, Crankcase another - and at the wheel of the third was General Hawk himself.

Lifeline shook Nomad off as she tried to help him up. "I said -"

"Lowlight, get Lifeline. He's shot in the leg, he can't run. I can."

Lowlight gave her a frown, but grabbed the medic's arm and slung it over his shoulder, ignoring Lifeline's protests.

Nomad stepped out of the trees, waving, trying to catch somebody's attention. One of the VAMPs swerved, heading over for her - Hawk's jeep.

"Get in," Hawk ordered.

Nomad turned to make sure Lowlight and Lifeline got in first, but the sniper pushed her into the passenger seat.

Hawk glanced at her. "Ready to go?"

"Hell yes, sir."

The C-130 was already taxiing down the runway, its open loading ramp screeching, sending sparks flying up behind it. As Nomad watched, the first jeep jounced over the edge and into the hold. The second jeep wasn't far behind.

A barrage of fire assaulted Hawk's VAMP.

"Get down," the General ordered calmly, pulling his .45 from his shoulder holster. Behind them, Lowlight swung the gun around.

Nomad sunk down in her seat as far as she could. The General, one eye on the road, reached over her and blasted four quick shots - Nomad saw four troops fall.

Damn, Hawk was good. Not for the first time, she was glad he was on her side.

But the plane was pulling away. She could see the faces of the other Joes looking back, yelling at them to hurry up.

They were so close.

The plane started to rise.

The jeep chased it.

The loading ramp was off the ground.

They weren't going to make it -

And then something clanked down onto the hood, thrown by one of the Joes already in the plane - a winch cable, with a hook attached to the end. To Nomad's amazement, Lowlight leaped nimbly over the top of her, onto the front of the car, reached down and hooked the cable securely around the VAMP's bullbar.

The jeep lurched forward immediately, dragged into the air with the plane. Lowlight stumbled, lost his balance, landed on his back…

He was going to roll off the jeep. The plane was already three metres off the ground, the Jeep dangling behind it like a worm on a fishing line. Bullets grazed past them both ways, the Joes firing down at the Cobras firing up.

"No!"

Without thinking, Nomad lunged forward, thrusting an arm out - and Lowlight caught her wrist.

"Don't you dare fall," she grunted, ignoring the pain screaming up her entire arm.

Hawk threw himself over her, reaching out and grabbing onto Lowlight. The sniper let go of her immediately and she sat back, breathing hard.

Slowly, inch by inch, the cable towed them onto the loading ramp. Somebody slammed the switch, and the ramp closed.

Nomad waited until she was sure Lowlight's feet were securely on the ground before slumping back into her seat, barely hearing the cheers of the Joes as they huddled around the jeep.

Fifteen minutes later, once Lifeline had finished fussing over her, shaking his head in disbelief as he inspected her wounds, Nomad asked him to tell the others to give her some room. She was tired - the last thing she wanted to do was answer questions about what had happened. She'd answer them, of course - there was no getting out of answering questions where the Joes were concerned, she knew that pretty well by now - just…later. All she wanted to do right now was sleep, helped along by the generous dose of morphine Lifeline had given her. It was enough to know that they'd all made it out safely - even Beachhead, who she'd last seen in the stairwell, about to take on a whole group of Cobras on his own.

"Hey."

Nomad looked up. "Hey."

Lowlight took a seat beside her, leaning against the wall of the plane, looking down at her with his blue eyes. Nomad wasn't quite affected by painkillers enough to not realise that the silence was awkward. She sighed. "Lowlight -"

"Nomad -" he started at the same time.

They looked at each other.

"Thanks," Nomad whispered. "For coming to get me, I mean."

He gave her his crooked grin - and she knew that they were going to be alright. She sat up, shuffled over and leaned against him, sighing contentedly.

He carefully put his arms around her. "I'll always come to get you."

"Really?" Her eyelids were getting heavy.

He nodded. "Uh huh."

"I'm sorry."

"What for?"

"I didn't wanna hurt you…when I said we were through. I just…" She yawned.

"Shh. I know you didn't."

"Can we…start over?"

Lowlight shut his eyes briefly, let out a sigh, then nodded again, smiling. "If you want."

"I want."

He brushed her hair back and pressed his lips to the top of her head. "Nomad?"

"Uh huh…"

"Thanks for catching me," he replied.

"You'd better be…grateful. It…fucking hurt."

She grinned wearily as she felt the sniper's chest vibrate with quiet laughter, and then she closed her eyes.

Everything was okay now.

Nomad was going home.