And Almas caught it.
She held it up, her white fur coat smoking. “The deal is done. The wind has spoken.” She whistled. A helicopter rose from behind the eastern ridge.
Three hundred yards below, a Zartan-masked Russian oligarch named Khadan was trading a stolen U.S. satellite guidance chip for a weapon the Joes had only heard rumors of: the — The Calling Wind . Gi Joe 2 Mongol Heleer
Snake Eyes disengaged from Almas, throwing a smoke pellet. She laughed—a horrible, hollow sound. “Run, ghost! The Heleer calls your bones!”
The fight was brutal. Snake Eyes’s katana met her shamshir in a shower of sparks. She was faster than he expected—not Storm Shadow fast, but wild fast, like a wolf cornered in a blizzard. She kicked a spray of frozen dirt into his visor, then slashed low. And Almas caught it
In a Cobra bunker in the Altai Mountains, Almas places the chip on a table. A hologram flickers—a face made of shadows.
“Next time,” Roadblock grunted, watching the helicopter fade into the storm. “We bring a bigger knife.” The wind has spoken
Snake Eyes said nothing. He simply picked up Almas’s dropped shamshir and sheathed it. A promise.