[CENTER][IMG]http://www.expertcomics.com/enr//wp-content/uploads/2011/12/2016812-snake_eyes_ongoing_08_cvra_1316804073.jpg[/IMG][/CENTER]

[i]Several years ago
Kandahar, Afghanistan
Initial debrief of Master Sergeant Daiki Oroku, Code-name "Snake Eyes"[/i]

"You abandoned orders and lost effectively your entire squad." Lieutenant Dashiell Fairborne was visibly stressed, but equally enraged. Snake Eyes and Thomas Arashikage had barely been given enough time to get a meal in their bellies before Flint had called the squad leader for questioning. Lieutenant Fairborne slid Snake Eyes' field report across the table. "Would you mind telling me what was so important that you effectively deserted your objective? Need I remind you this was the [i]leader of the entire Afghan Resistance[/i] you were going for?" an unmasked and hardly recognizable Snake Eyes remained silent, as he had been for roughly the last twenty-four hours, they had the report, it was up to the military justice system to decide what to do with him. The door into the compound's debriefing room opened rather unceremoniously, and a flow of flaming red hair found its way into Snake Eyes' peripheral vision.

"Specialist O'Hara." Fairborne saluted the newcomer. "I was just attempting to get some answers out of your ninja friend here." all formalities seemed to be tossed out the window at that moment, Flint giving Snake Eyes a rather vicious glare, which was returned with a cold, unchanging gaze.

"Understood Lieutenant Fairborne, but this operation was, frankly, none of your business." Shana crossed her arms over her chest and motioned for Flint and his guards to vacate the premises. "I'm going to have to request you leave me and Sergeant Snake Eyes alone for the time being, as his squad's handler, I'm the one who debriefs them, not you." Fairborne and O'Hara shared a venomous second or two of silence before the former escorted his security detail out of the room. That was certainly one of the benefits of working outside the normal chain of command.

Scarlett disabled the video camera pointing at the table before taking the Lieutenant's place in the chair opposite of Snake Eyes. "I won't pretend to know why you did what you did, but I would like some clarity on the events." his handler leaned forward, resting her arms on the metallic surface. "I've known you for some time now Snake Eyes." the look in her gaze was sincere, this wasn't a disgruntled officer angered that he went AWOL on arguably the most important special operations mission in the war to date, this was a friend, genuinely worried about his well-being. 

"I know you wouldn't do something like this for no reason, so tell me, what happened out there?"

[i]Three years ago
Arashikage Compound, Japan[/i]

The location was oddly tranquil. An isolated mountain deep within the heart of Japan, even in all his years amongst The Foot, Snake Eyes had never heard of this compound, and he doubted an outsider had ever been trusted with its location before him. It was hidden well, even with the directions given to him by Tommy, Snake Eyes had difficulty getting past its defenses, the Arashikage weren't welcoming of outsiders, nor did they entirely drive them away. Everyone was given equal opportunity to seek the clan's compound, but only the truly skilled and determined would find it. The roar of a waterfall filled Snake Eyes' ears as he climbed the steps of the compound, oriental stairs carved into the side of the mountain itself. At the apex of the pathway, any semblance of activity within the compound stood still, and innumerable eyes locked themselves onto the newcomer, and almost instantly, Snake Eyes heard several swords removed from their sheaths and form a circle around him. The apparent master of the compound made his way calmly over to the newcomer, the guards maneuvering their swords to make way for him. Taking one look at him, the master raised an eyebrow but otherwise gave no indication of surprise.

"You must be Snake Eyes. We've heard a lot about you."

[i]Present day
05:12, 5:12 AM, San Diego, California
G.I. Joe West Coast Headquarters[/i]

The ninja commando of the G.I. Joes sat within the self-built dojo in the west wing of the organization's headquarters, going through his morning meditations. He could feel everything within the room, the weight of the air, the beat of his heart, even the subconscious flow of his blood. Since his abandonment of Jinx and the Arashikage Clan, it was only during times like these that Snake Eyes felt truly at peace.The peace did not last long, however, as the sliding door was abruptly opened, and Scarlett all but tore him out of his state of nirvana.

"We have a problem."

Only a minute later, and the Joes had assembled at the center of the compound, Tunnel Rat and Heavy Duty bickering about something or other, Scarlett typing away vigorously at the massive conglomerate of technology that made up the Joes' mainframe and computer, and Duke pacing back and forth behind her. Snake Eyes, as usual, lingered in the back row of the group, staying out of sight, as the Joes had quickly learned would be the usual, though it didn't stop them from being thoroughly dumbfounded whenever their ninja teammate disappeared without a sound.

"At 05:05 today, Brian Forrest, better known to you as Wet Suit, sent out a distress signal from his home in Los Angeles. It's been active for over ten minutes, and Wet Suit has not reported in. That can only mean one thing."

"Was it COBRA?" Tunnel Rat chimed in from beside Heavy Duty.

"We don't know, all security cameras and surveillance equipment was disabled before the signal was sent. We suspect assassination." the atmosphere grew noticeably quieter, and Scarlett directed everyone to the screen directly above the main console. It showed Wet Suit's home, with nothing out of the ordinary.

"The problem isn't that the devices were shut down, the problem is there's absolutely no indication they'd been tampered with, no visual glitches or abnormalities, the timer isn't even off by a fraction of a second. It's exactly as we left it. Whoever did this, they knew what they were doing." Scarlett rose from her chair and addressed the rest of the team. "We need to get there and investigate before local law enforcement discovers the scene, we need to be fast, discreet, and leave absolutely [i]no[/i] signs we messed with anything."

The group almost simultaneously turned around, and, to almost nobody's surprise, Snake Eyes had already disappeared from the scene. 

[i]06:30, 6:30 AM, Los Angeles, California
Residence of Brian "Wet Suit" Forrest[/i]

Snake Eyes used the cover of barking dogs and the morning hubbub to mask his entrance into the Forrest Residence, dropping from the tree in Wet Suit's backyard, Snake Eyes silently made his way to the backdoor, drawing a katana from his shoulder and delicately placing it within the small gap between the door's lock and framework. The door gave no resistance when Snake Eyes turned the knob. Whoever had been there, they were in a hurry to leave. Sheathing his sword, Snake Eyes' demeanor didn't change when he looked directly to his left, only to see Wet Suit's body strewn across the kitchen floor, a river of blood having formed, and the air heavy with the scent of death.

Crouching by Brian's feet, Snake Eyes discovered something he didn't expect; the barrel of a gun, with the rest of the components missing. Wet Suit wasn't a man for blades or knives, but he wasn't a man who would be taken by surprise either, and no ordinary man could slice through a gun with the level of precision indicated. Either COBRA had hired a very, very experienced assassin to mask his trail with this level of delicacy, or Wet Suit had been expecting a less than friendly visitor. Maneuvering his way around the blood, Snake Eyes furrowed his brow from beneath his visor when he saw the chest wound. The entry and dimensions of the hole were similar, and in a moment of discovery, Snake Eyes unsheathed his katana once more and placed the blade above the wound, confirming his suspicion. With one more look over the body, Snake Eyes nodded to himself and took his leave of the residence.

Precise strike on the gun, a katana or similar blade dug deep into the chest to ensure the job was done, and a confirmation of death. This wasn't an ordinary assassin, this was an elite, top-class specialist. One that could only have been trained by either The Foot, who were based almost three thousand miles away, or the Arashikage Clan, only one short trip across the Pacific.