CHAIN SMOKERS DIE HARDER
Chapter 1
The San Francisco harbor. Many ferries leave from that very port. Only one of them holds my interest. The very large, state of the art ocean liner known as The Pegasus. This liner, commissioned three years ago, was built from an old tanker ship. It has room for quite a bit of cargo. Furthermore, the funding for building the ship with all the newest technology and all the other bells and whistles you could think of came from a company accused of tax evasion and has possible drug trade and terrorist ties. These rumors have not been confirmed. This liner's course for the past three years has been to and from the state of Hawaii. However, an unnamed source informed us that on a cruise in the very near future it should make a change in course to an undisclosed location. My superiors have been checking on all the possible destinations in the Pacific Ocean for a liner such as The Pegasus to go. Our intelligence points us to an offshore drilling rig to the south of the liner's normal course. We have done some checking on the rig. It seems to have started functioning about the same time the liner began sailing. Such a coincidence in my business is no longer a coincidence. If our source was correct about the boat being hijacked by some sort of militant group we believe it would head straight there. This really did not surprise us at all after the word of some independent corporation starting up their own Metal Gear project. Our intelligence is checking to see if that corporation has any ties to those that run the liner or the rig. We contacted the unnamed source once more to no avail. Soon it was him that once again reached us and told us of the exact day and sailing that this plot was supposed to take place. I was skeptical but my superiors were not. My mission was to infiltrate the liner and try and foil any terrorist action, if any and, if our assumptions were correct, infiltrate the rig as well and look for any evidence of a new Metal Gear project.
"Christ..." John McClane did not like holiday shopping.
"Honey." he whispered to his wife, Holly. "Is it absolutely necessary to spend hours in the store looking for a gift for your parents?"
"Oh c'mon, John. We're going to be gone soon and I want to get them something before we leave."
"Even though you're not going to see them until we get back? Jeez, Holly."
"I want to be ready for when we go to D.C. because I don't want to listen to you whining about going shopping again. Whatever happened to your Christmas spirit?" Holly asked smiling
John stared at her with a comical look in his eye. They both knew what happened to his Christmas spirit. Nakatomi and the airport incident took away just about every bit of Christmas spirit out of him. This was also their first Christmas back together since the terrorist plot in New York. John finally called her and they made amends and now they planned to spend a nice, long, romantic vacation this holiday season while the kids were at some relative's house. John rolled his eyes and pulled out a cigarette. He then pulled out his silver lighter and placed the flame of the end of his smoke. He puffed some smoke from his mouth and sighed. It was going to be a long afternoon.
"Make sure they go to bed at eight o' clock and also tell them no sweets before dinner. And tell them if they are extra nice over at your house Santa just might bring them some special presents. Okay, Carla? All right. Bye."
Holly hung up the phone. She was talking to her sister that didn't live to far from them so she just dropped off the kids there while they went on vacation. She then walked into their bedroom where John, in his undershirt, was packing his bag. She glanced down beside it and saw John's gun and badge.
"John, is it absolutely necessary to take those?" Holly asked as she leaned up against the doorway.
John looked up at her, smiling. "Well seeing as our Christmases always seem to turn out the same way I think I should take it. just in case."
John picked up a gray button down shirt and slipped it on then buttoned it up. He tucked his badge into his pants and put on the shoulder holster for his gun and then put his brown leather jacket on over it.
"Where are you going?" Holly questioned
"I just gotta take care of a few things at the station then we'll be ready to go."
"All right, but hurry back."
"I will."
John walked over to Holly, embraced her and kissed her on the lips.
"I love you." He said
Holly smiled and kissed him again. John then walked out the bedroom and picked up his car keys and exited the house.
John arrived at the skyscraper station of the LAPD. He moved back to being a Los Angeles cop after him and Holly made up. He stepped into the building and got into the elevator and rode all the way up to his floor. Once there he stepped out of the elevator. On his way to his office he walked by Powell, the plump, African American cop who helped him back in 88 with the Nakatomi incident. Powell immediately saw it was John and looked up from the paperwork he was reading.
"Hey, cowboy, how's it going? I thought you were on vacation."
"Oh, it's going okay I guess. As for vacation I think since I'm gonna be gone for a nice long time I should split my case load to some other detectives so the captain doesn't have to do it himself then yak my ass off when I get back." John explained
"Yeah, so where are you going?" Powell wondered
"Hawaii." John muttered as he pulled out his pack of cigarettes.
"You don't seem like the kind of guy that would like Hawaii, John." Powell laughed
John put the cigarette in his mouth and lit it. "I didn't say I wanted to go. It was Holly's idea. She said it would be romantic."
"Are you taking the kids?"
"Nah, we left them over at their aunt's house not too far from where we live." John said taking a drag of his cig
"Oh, okay. Sound like it'll be fun. However, John." Powell started
"However, what?" John shot back
"There is a pool going on around here. A lot of people are betting against you having a very merry Christmas without any interference by terrorist or. machine gun toting hoola girls."
John chuckled. Even his friends were against him. "Well. put me down for twenty that I do have a merry holiday." John pulled out a twenty-dollar bill
"Alright, partner, but if Christmas works out for you they're gonna think you won't have a happy New Year."
John pulled out another twenty "Advance bet. My holiday season won't be fucked with this year."
Powell smiled and took both bills and shoved them in a box over by the coffee machine with a small sign on the front that read, McClane's Christmas- Merry. Another box sat right next to it that read, McClane's Christmas- Not Very Merry. John looked at the box and then back at Powell with a blank stare. Powell started laughing.
"Shit." John muttered under his breath.
John walked into his office and separated his caseload as he had said. He put post-it notes on each case for the captain to find so he would know whom to give the cases to. He then went back to the elevator, got in his car, and drove home.
"Otacon. Otacon. You there?"
Snake's gravely voice was dropped to a whisper as he hid behind trailers to eighteen-wheelers.
"I read you, Snake." Otacon's voice rang through Snake's ears
"Good. then you can tell me why I couldn't have just gone undercover and boarded the boat like a normal person."
"Snake, can't you answer that question yourself. If you've pissed any of these people off in the past you walking around with a grin on your face is not going to do any good if they make you. Stealth is the key, as always."
Snake sighed. "Fine."
He reached into one of the small packs around his waste and pulled out some cigs and a lighter. He flipped the lighter top open and flicked the flame on. He lit the cig and took a nice long drag.
"Snake, did you take those smokes again?" Otacon questioned the unshaven Snake
"Of course. Never leave home without them." Snake said, "So what's the plan?"
"Well, if the informant was correct that ship is going to change course early in the cruise. That won't give you that long to find out who they are. Plus, seeing as it is a civilian cruise ship you'll have tons of potential hostages on a ship that size. Now, your first objective is to get information on the destination they plan to change to. If it's that rig then you must wait it out. You have to get to that rig undetected and neutralize the Metal Gear if, in fact, there is one."
"Normal day at the office." Snake mumbled as he took another drag of his smoke, "So how do I get on the ship, Otacon?"
"Well, I would suggest just using the cloak and slipping through the front door."
"Damn, it's just so easy. I expected something harder." Snake joked
"Well, Snake, if this all pans out the way it's expected it should be difficult enough for you." Otacon retorted "Alright. Where can I reach you?" Snake asked
"My Codec frequency is 141.23. Just call me up when you need me."
"Oh and one more thing, Otacon."
"What's that?"
"If you say one Mei Ling line I will kill you sooner or later."
Otacon chuckled. "Fair enough, Otacon out. Good luck Snake."
The transmission ended. Snake looked around his belt to make a final look at his equipment. He had been given his M9, the tranquilizer gun modified from a Beretta. However, he still had his Socom. Now he wouldn't be totally defenseless against terrorists with machine guns. He had a few rations, binoculars, and some stun and chaff grenades.
"Looks good." Snake spoke to himself
He then flipped a switch on his belt and the cloaking device switched on. To other people he was invisible. He walked right up the walkway extending from the deck of the mammoth ship without anyone noticing.
"Huh?"
John McClane felt something brush against his face. He looked around but there was nothing there.
"What's wrong, John?"
John looked around once more. "Nothing, honey. Nothing."
They stood on the walkway up to the deck. They walked up and found the elevator to the rooms. The halls were decorated quite nicely with red carpet and pictures hanging on the walls. The rooms were equally ornate with polished wood furniture that looked like it had cost a fortune. John looked at it in a cop's eye, though. It was all cheap, probably made by kids in Mexico or something. He smirked. He lit a cigarette and went out into the hall to descend back into the common area. As he walked down to the elevator he saw a tall man walking toward him.
"Hey, good afternoon." John said, being polite
"Good afternoon." The man responded in a thick Russian accent
As the man walked past him John glanced back at him. He didn't like foreigners that much anywhere near the Christmas holidays.
"Oh, honey, wait!" Holly called after him
John turned to look at her.
"I can unpack later. I just want to lounge around right now."
"Sounds good to me." John remarked throwing his arm over her shoulders
They both walked to the elevator and went down to the area with couches and the like. They hadn't even noticed but they had already started moving. They were just about to exit the harbor and then they would go to full speed. They both sat at the bar having a few drinks.
"You haven't drunk much lately, John." Holly mentioned
"Yeah. well when you were in L.A. and I was in New York during that last terrorist plot I was drinking too much. way too much." John told her, "But I don't think I'll become an alcoholic after a few drinks."
"Let's hope not." Holly remarked
They spent some time at the bar talking and then the captain came over the speakers.
"Ladies and Gentlemen we are now exiting the harbor and we are continuing on our course to beautiful Hawaii."
John looked around the common. There seemed to be a large amount of people on the boat. Most were probably in their rooms so very likely there were even more than the ones he just saw in the common. Then John saw the man from the hallway upstairs. He was walking up to the front of the ship toward the stairs to the bridge. John found this suspicious but other things were more important at the moment. He had to take a leak. John kissed his wife on the cheek.
"Be right back."
He walked to the restroom in the common. He did his business and then went around to the sink to wash his hands. Suddenly he heard the sound he now despised around the holidays. Machine gun fire.
"What the fuck?" John exclaimed
He opened the door a crack and saw men with machine guns parading around the common area and taking the people hostage. He shut the door and looked around. Above one of the stalls was the opening to an air duct. He dashed to the stall and lifted the vent up into the air duct. He lifted himself up into the cramped space and then placed the vent back over the hole. He then began squirming through the duct to get away from the terrorists.
"Shit, John. They should just put you in the middle of a city in the Middle East or something. You seem to be a fucking terrorist magnet. Just drop me there, all the terrorists come out, I get killed, and the armed forces get medals. Sounds like a plan."
John was undoubtedly pissed off. John the came to a vent to the side of him instead of below him. He looked though it. At the same time John started to sing. "It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas."
It seemed to be a storage room, full of boxes and bag of food and everything else needed to have a ship of this size. He made sure no gun- toting terrorists were patrolling around and then hit out the vent. He dropped onto the ground and whipped out his Beretta.
"Fuck, John, you're so God damned unlucky I wouldn't be surprised if one of those fuckers came right up behind you right now and said."
"Drop the gun." A gravely voice ordered and shoved a gun barrel into the back of his neck
John just stood there for a moment.
"Fuck." He said and dropped the gun on the ground
"Alright, why are you crawling around in air ducts and why do you have a gun?" the voice questioned
"Well. I'm crawling around the ducts so I won't get taken hostage or shot by some fucking terrorist. and I have a gun so I won't get taken hostage or shot by some fucking terrorist!"
John was very pissed.
"Who are you?" the voice continued questioning
"I'm one of Santa's fucking reindeer!" John yelled
VERY pissed off.
The person behind him pushed the barrel in harder, "Listen, shitbird, you better take me seriously or you won't get to see another sunrise, got it?!"
John took a few deep breaths to calm him down. He had heard the terrorists yelling in Russian. This guy was not Russian. He let himself settle down a bit.
"Alright, I'm John McClane. I'm a cop with the LAPD."
"What are you doing here?"
"My wife and I were going to Hawaii. We both needed a vacation. However, Christmas isn't my best holiday, apparently."
"What?" the voice asked, confused
"Never mind. Listen, I just crawled into the duct to get away from the terrorists, man."
The person behind him lowered his gun. John turned around and the man was holding the butt of his Beretta toward him. John grabbed it and put it in his holster. The man had messy hair in the style of a mullet. The stubble on his face looked as if it had not been shaved in a week. He wore a headband and clothes John had never seen with a gun in his hand and one in a holster at his side.
"So who the fuck are you?" John asked
Snake pulled out his pack of cigarettes, put one in his mouth and lit it.
"I am a member of an anti-terrorist organization that locates and neutralizes amphibious, nuclear armed battle tanks known as Metal Gears."
John did the same with his cigs, "Come again."
Snake blew smoke out through his nose as he began to speak again, "Metal Gears are the most advanced weapon of mass destruction we have. Do you know how many times your life has been threatened with these weapons?"
John shook his head, blowing smoke out of his mouth, "No, how many."
"Four." Snake remarked
This had less of an impact on John than he had anticipated.
"Have I seen you somewhere before?" Snake questioned
"Do you watch much six o' clock news?" John asked, smiling
"Yeah."
"There ya go. I've been on TV too many times. It's begun to be quite a nuisance."
"And what did you do to warrant the TV to be interested in you?" Snake asked
"I stopped a terrorist plan to steal over six million dollars from the Nakatomi company,."
Snake's eyes widened at the mention of Nakatomi. and John noticed
However he continued, "I stopped a mad man from freeing a general of a large drug cartel. And I prevented the Federal Reserve's gold from being stolen."
"Oh, I remember now. You're just some cop in the wrong place at the wrong time, huh?"
"Seems that way. This was my first Christmas back with my wife after about a year of separation. Same as the Nakatomi thing was. Christmas just isn't too lucky for me."
They both puffed on their cigarettes for a minute or two and didn't say anything.
"Well." John started looking at Snake, "If you're here that means we're in some pretty deep shit don't it?"
Snake just nodded, "These terrorists don't really need hostages, but they're going to take them anyway. Make it look like they have demands."
"What's the point for stealing a cruise ship?" John thought aloud
"This boat used to be a cargo ship. the company that owns it now turned it into a cruise ship. The company built it the same time they built an offshore drilling rig in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. The company also has a history of terrorist involvement ever since '88."
"So they're going to take us all to some drilling rig?" John questioned, skeptical
"That's how it looked to my superiors."
John shook his head and took a drag of his cigarette, "What company?"
"Nakatomi." Snake responded
John's face looked surprised for a moment then his face turned into a grin, "Fuck."
"Ever since '88 when Gruber took the Plaza in L.A., Nakatomi has had invested interest in protection, and legal organizations were out of the question because of a few illegal activities going on behind Nakatomi walls. They then enlisted the use of mercenaries who as the years progressed, became terrorists. Now Nakatomi has been kept watch on Nakatomi and it is a terrorist company."
John processed the information told to him, "Well, remind me not to except any Christmas gift from them."
"After you shot up their building, I don't know if they want you to get one."
"Oh, you don't understand. My wife works for them." John said
Snake chuckled a bit.
"So, how are we going to stop this thing? Retake the ship?" John asked, always the one for the loud approach.
"No, we are going to wait."
"Wait? We have civilians on this boat that need to be taken off." John spoke, agitated
"We now just need to lie low until we reach the offshore drilling rig. Once we reach that, take the boat and head back to the harbor."
"And why, may I ask, do you need to stay at the rig?" Snake looked at the floor a moment, "I think you know the classified status of such military matters as the ones I have been involved in."
"Obviously." John responded, slightly sarcastic
"There is supposed to be a Metal Gear on that rig. I can't leave it there. It has to be neutralized or these terrorists will launch attacks on major cities around the globe."
John had just started piecing the information all together. He didn't even think the situation was of this magnitude. No running and gunning for Mr. McClane. He tried to find appropriate words for the situation. Maybe something intelligent, maybe a smart remark to ease the tension, but all his mind could find was.
"Fuck."
Chapter 1
The San Francisco harbor. Many ferries leave from that very port. Only one of them holds my interest. The very large, state of the art ocean liner known as The Pegasus. This liner, commissioned three years ago, was built from an old tanker ship. It has room for quite a bit of cargo. Furthermore, the funding for building the ship with all the newest technology and all the other bells and whistles you could think of came from a company accused of tax evasion and has possible drug trade and terrorist ties. These rumors have not been confirmed. This liner's course for the past three years has been to and from the state of Hawaii. However, an unnamed source informed us that on a cruise in the very near future it should make a change in course to an undisclosed location. My superiors have been checking on all the possible destinations in the Pacific Ocean for a liner such as The Pegasus to go. Our intelligence points us to an offshore drilling rig to the south of the liner's normal course. We have done some checking on the rig. It seems to have started functioning about the same time the liner began sailing. Such a coincidence in my business is no longer a coincidence. If our source was correct about the boat being hijacked by some sort of militant group we believe it would head straight there. This really did not surprise us at all after the word of some independent corporation starting up their own Metal Gear project. Our intelligence is checking to see if that corporation has any ties to those that run the liner or the rig. We contacted the unnamed source once more to no avail. Soon it was him that once again reached us and told us of the exact day and sailing that this plot was supposed to take place. I was skeptical but my superiors were not. My mission was to infiltrate the liner and try and foil any terrorist action, if any and, if our assumptions were correct, infiltrate the rig as well and look for any evidence of a new Metal Gear project.
"Christ..." John McClane did not like holiday shopping.
"Honey." he whispered to his wife, Holly. "Is it absolutely necessary to spend hours in the store looking for a gift for your parents?"
"Oh c'mon, John. We're going to be gone soon and I want to get them something before we leave."
"Even though you're not going to see them until we get back? Jeez, Holly."
"I want to be ready for when we go to D.C. because I don't want to listen to you whining about going shopping again. Whatever happened to your Christmas spirit?" Holly asked smiling
John stared at her with a comical look in his eye. They both knew what happened to his Christmas spirit. Nakatomi and the airport incident took away just about every bit of Christmas spirit out of him. This was also their first Christmas back together since the terrorist plot in New York. John finally called her and they made amends and now they planned to spend a nice, long, romantic vacation this holiday season while the kids were at some relative's house. John rolled his eyes and pulled out a cigarette. He then pulled out his silver lighter and placed the flame of the end of his smoke. He puffed some smoke from his mouth and sighed. It was going to be a long afternoon.
"Make sure they go to bed at eight o' clock and also tell them no sweets before dinner. And tell them if they are extra nice over at your house Santa just might bring them some special presents. Okay, Carla? All right. Bye."
Holly hung up the phone. She was talking to her sister that didn't live to far from them so she just dropped off the kids there while they went on vacation. She then walked into their bedroom where John, in his undershirt, was packing his bag. She glanced down beside it and saw John's gun and badge.
"John, is it absolutely necessary to take those?" Holly asked as she leaned up against the doorway.
John looked up at her, smiling. "Well seeing as our Christmases always seem to turn out the same way I think I should take it. just in case."
John picked up a gray button down shirt and slipped it on then buttoned it up. He tucked his badge into his pants and put on the shoulder holster for his gun and then put his brown leather jacket on over it.
"Where are you going?" Holly questioned
"I just gotta take care of a few things at the station then we'll be ready to go."
"All right, but hurry back."
"I will."
John walked over to Holly, embraced her and kissed her on the lips.
"I love you." He said
Holly smiled and kissed him again. John then walked out the bedroom and picked up his car keys and exited the house.
John arrived at the skyscraper station of the LAPD. He moved back to being a Los Angeles cop after him and Holly made up. He stepped into the building and got into the elevator and rode all the way up to his floor. Once there he stepped out of the elevator. On his way to his office he walked by Powell, the plump, African American cop who helped him back in 88 with the Nakatomi incident. Powell immediately saw it was John and looked up from the paperwork he was reading.
"Hey, cowboy, how's it going? I thought you were on vacation."
"Oh, it's going okay I guess. As for vacation I think since I'm gonna be gone for a nice long time I should split my case load to some other detectives so the captain doesn't have to do it himself then yak my ass off when I get back." John explained
"Yeah, so where are you going?" Powell wondered
"Hawaii." John muttered as he pulled out his pack of cigarettes.
"You don't seem like the kind of guy that would like Hawaii, John." Powell laughed
John put the cigarette in his mouth and lit it. "I didn't say I wanted to go. It was Holly's idea. She said it would be romantic."
"Are you taking the kids?"
"Nah, we left them over at their aunt's house not too far from where we live." John said taking a drag of his cig
"Oh, okay. Sound like it'll be fun. However, John." Powell started
"However, what?" John shot back
"There is a pool going on around here. A lot of people are betting against you having a very merry Christmas without any interference by terrorist or. machine gun toting hoola girls."
John chuckled. Even his friends were against him. "Well. put me down for twenty that I do have a merry holiday." John pulled out a twenty-dollar bill
"Alright, partner, but if Christmas works out for you they're gonna think you won't have a happy New Year."
John pulled out another twenty "Advance bet. My holiday season won't be fucked with this year."
Powell smiled and took both bills and shoved them in a box over by the coffee machine with a small sign on the front that read, McClane's Christmas- Merry. Another box sat right next to it that read, McClane's Christmas- Not Very Merry. John looked at the box and then back at Powell with a blank stare. Powell started laughing.
"Shit." John muttered under his breath.
John walked into his office and separated his caseload as he had said. He put post-it notes on each case for the captain to find so he would know whom to give the cases to. He then went back to the elevator, got in his car, and drove home.
"Otacon. Otacon. You there?"
Snake's gravely voice was dropped to a whisper as he hid behind trailers to eighteen-wheelers.
"I read you, Snake." Otacon's voice rang through Snake's ears
"Good. then you can tell me why I couldn't have just gone undercover and boarded the boat like a normal person."
"Snake, can't you answer that question yourself. If you've pissed any of these people off in the past you walking around with a grin on your face is not going to do any good if they make you. Stealth is the key, as always."
Snake sighed. "Fine."
He reached into one of the small packs around his waste and pulled out some cigs and a lighter. He flipped the lighter top open and flicked the flame on. He lit the cig and took a nice long drag.
"Snake, did you take those smokes again?" Otacon questioned the unshaven Snake
"Of course. Never leave home without them." Snake said, "So what's the plan?"
"Well, if the informant was correct that ship is going to change course early in the cruise. That won't give you that long to find out who they are. Plus, seeing as it is a civilian cruise ship you'll have tons of potential hostages on a ship that size. Now, your first objective is to get information on the destination they plan to change to. If it's that rig then you must wait it out. You have to get to that rig undetected and neutralize the Metal Gear if, in fact, there is one."
"Normal day at the office." Snake mumbled as he took another drag of his smoke, "So how do I get on the ship, Otacon?"
"Well, I would suggest just using the cloak and slipping through the front door."
"Damn, it's just so easy. I expected something harder." Snake joked
"Well, Snake, if this all pans out the way it's expected it should be difficult enough for you." Otacon retorted "Alright. Where can I reach you?" Snake asked
"My Codec frequency is 141.23. Just call me up when you need me."
"Oh and one more thing, Otacon."
"What's that?"
"If you say one Mei Ling line I will kill you sooner or later."
Otacon chuckled. "Fair enough, Otacon out. Good luck Snake."
The transmission ended. Snake looked around his belt to make a final look at his equipment. He had been given his M9, the tranquilizer gun modified from a Beretta. However, he still had his Socom. Now he wouldn't be totally defenseless against terrorists with machine guns. He had a few rations, binoculars, and some stun and chaff grenades.
"Looks good." Snake spoke to himself
He then flipped a switch on his belt and the cloaking device switched on. To other people he was invisible. He walked right up the walkway extending from the deck of the mammoth ship without anyone noticing.
"Huh?"
John McClane felt something brush against his face. He looked around but there was nothing there.
"What's wrong, John?"
John looked around once more. "Nothing, honey. Nothing."
They stood on the walkway up to the deck. They walked up and found the elevator to the rooms. The halls were decorated quite nicely with red carpet and pictures hanging on the walls. The rooms were equally ornate with polished wood furniture that looked like it had cost a fortune. John looked at it in a cop's eye, though. It was all cheap, probably made by kids in Mexico or something. He smirked. He lit a cigarette and went out into the hall to descend back into the common area. As he walked down to the elevator he saw a tall man walking toward him.
"Hey, good afternoon." John said, being polite
"Good afternoon." The man responded in a thick Russian accent
As the man walked past him John glanced back at him. He didn't like foreigners that much anywhere near the Christmas holidays.
"Oh, honey, wait!" Holly called after him
John turned to look at her.
"I can unpack later. I just want to lounge around right now."
"Sounds good to me." John remarked throwing his arm over her shoulders
They both walked to the elevator and went down to the area with couches and the like. They hadn't even noticed but they had already started moving. They were just about to exit the harbor and then they would go to full speed. They both sat at the bar having a few drinks.
"You haven't drunk much lately, John." Holly mentioned
"Yeah. well when you were in L.A. and I was in New York during that last terrorist plot I was drinking too much. way too much." John told her, "But I don't think I'll become an alcoholic after a few drinks."
"Let's hope not." Holly remarked
They spent some time at the bar talking and then the captain came over the speakers.
"Ladies and Gentlemen we are now exiting the harbor and we are continuing on our course to beautiful Hawaii."
John looked around the common. There seemed to be a large amount of people on the boat. Most were probably in their rooms so very likely there were even more than the ones he just saw in the common. Then John saw the man from the hallway upstairs. He was walking up to the front of the ship toward the stairs to the bridge. John found this suspicious but other things were more important at the moment. He had to take a leak. John kissed his wife on the cheek.
"Be right back."
He walked to the restroom in the common. He did his business and then went around to the sink to wash his hands. Suddenly he heard the sound he now despised around the holidays. Machine gun fire.
"What the fuck?" John exclaimed
He opened the door a crack and saw men with machine guns parading around the common area and taking the people hostage. He shut the door and looked around. Above one of the stalls was the opening to an air duct. He dashed to the stall and lifted the vent up into the air duct. He lifted himself up into the cramped space and then placed the vent back over the hole. He then began squirming through the duct to get away from the terrorists.
"Shit, John. They should just put you in the middle of a city in the Middle East or something. You seem to be a fucking terrorist magnet. Just drop me there, all the terrorists come out, I get killed, and the armed forces get medals. Sounds like a plan."
John was undoubtedly pissed off. John the came to a vent to the side of him instead of below him. He looked though it. At the same time John started to sing. "It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas."
It seemed to be a storage room, full of boxes and bag of food and everything else needed to have a ship of this size. He made sure no gun- toting terrorists were patrolling around and then hit out the vent. He dropped onto the ground and whipped out his Beretta.
"Fuck, John, you're so God damned unlucky I wouldn't be surprised if one of those fuckers came right up behind you right now and said."
"Drop the gun." A gravely voice ordered and shoved a gun barrel into the back of his neck
John just stood there for a moment.
"Fuck." He said and dropped the gun on the ground
"Alright, why are you crawling around in air ducts and why do you have a gun?" the voice questioned
"Well. I'm crawling around the ducts so I won't get taken hostage or shot by some fucking terrorist. and I have a gun so I won't get taken hostage or shot by some fucking terrorist!"
John was very pissed.
"Who are you?" the voice continued questioning
"I'm one of Santa's fucking reindeer!" John yelled
VERY pissed off.
The person behind him pushed the barrel in harder, "Listen, shitbird, you better take me seriously or you won't get to see another sunrise, got it?!"
John took a few deep breaths to calm him down. He had heard the terrorists yelling in Russian. This guy was not Russian. He let himself settle down a bit.
"Alright, I'm John McClane. I'm a cop with the LAPD."
"What are you doing here?"
"My wife and I were going to Hawaii. We both needed a vacation. However, Christmas isn't my best holiday, apparently."
"What?" the voice asked, confused
"Never mind. Listen, I just crawled into the duct to get away from the terrorists, man."
The person behind him lowered his gun. John turned around and the man was holding the butt of his Beretta toward him. John grabbed it and put it in his holster. The man had messy hair in the style of a mullet. The stubble on his face looked as if it had not been shaved in a week. He wore a headband and clothes John had never seen with a gun in his hand and one in a holster at his side.
"So who the fuck are you?" John asked
Snake pulled out his pack of cigarettes, put one in his mouth and lit it.
"I am a member of an anti-terrorist organization that locates and neutralizes amphibious, nuclear armed battle tanks known as Metal Gears."
John did the same with his cigs, "Come again."
Snake blew smoke out through his nose as he began to speak again, "Metal Gears are the most advanced weapon of mass destruction we have. Do you know how many times your life has been threatened with these weapons?"
John shook his head, blowing smoke out of his mouth, "No, how many."
"Four." Snake remarked
This had less of an impact on John than he had anticipated.
"Have I seen you somewhere before?" Snake questioned
"Do you watch much six o' clock news?" John asked, smiling
"Yeah."
"There ya go. I've been on TV too many times. It's begun to be quite a nuisance."
"And what did you do to warrant the TV to be interested in you?" Snake asked
"I stopped a terrorist plan to steal over six million dollars from the Nakatomi company,."
Snake's eyes widened at the mention of Nakatomi. and John noticed
However he continued, "I stopped a mad man from freeing a general of a large drug cartel. And I prevented the Federal Reserve's gold from being stolen."
"Oh, I remember now. You're just some cop in the wrong place at the wrong time, huh?"
"Seems that way. This was my first Christmas back with my wife after about a year of separation. Same as the Nakatomi thing was. Christmas just isn't too lucky for me."
They both puffed on their cigarettes for a minute or two and didn't say anything.
"Well." John started looking at Snake, "If you're here that means we're in some pretty deep shit don't it?"
Snake just nodded, "These terrorists don't really need hostages, but they're going to take them anyway. Make it look like they have demands."
"What's the point for stealing a cruise ship?" John thought aloud
"This boat used to be a cargo ship. the company that owns it now turned it into a cruise ship. The company built it the same time they built an offshore drilling rig in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. The company also has a history of terrorist involvement ever since '88."
"So they're going to take us all to some drilling rig?" John questioned, skeptical
"That's how it looked to my superiors."
John shook his head and took a drag of his cigarette, "What company?"
"Nakatomi." Snake responded
John's face looked surprised for a moment then his face turned into a grin, "Fuck."
"Ever since '88 when Gruber took the Plaza in L.A., Nakatomi has had invested interest in protection, and legal organizations were out of the question because of a few illegal activities going on behind Nakatomi walls. They then enlisted the use of mercenaries who as the years progressed, became terrorists. Now Nakatomi has been kept watch on Nakatomi and it is a terrorist company."
John processed the information told to him, "Well, remind me not to except any Christmas gift from them."
"After you shot up their building, I don't know if they want you to get one."
"Oh, you don't understand. My wife works for them." John said
Snake chuckled a bit.
"So, how are we going to stop this thing? Retake the ship?" John asked, always the one for the loud approach.
"No, we are going to wait."
"Wait? We have civilians on this boat that need to be taken off." John spoke, agitated
"We now just need to lie low until we reach the offshore drilling rig. Once we reach that, take the boat and head back to the harbor."
"And why, may I ask, do you need to stay at the rig?" Snake looked at the floor a moment, "I think you know the classified status of such military matters as the ones I have been involved in."
"Obviously." John responded, slightly sarcastic
"There is supposed to be a Metal Gear on that rig. I can't leave it there. It has to be neutralized or these terrorists will launch attacks on major cities around the globe."
John had just started piecing the information all together. He didn't even think the situation was of this magnitude. No running and gunning for Mr. McClane. He tried to find appropriate words for the situation. Maybe something intelligent, maybe a smart remark to ease the tension, but all his mind could find was.
"Fuck."