Operation: Cold Throat
I do not own MGS, but not ALL of the characters are Cannon, based in 1973, FOXHOUND. MAJOR spoilers for MGS3, and probably some for Portable Ops, be warned... Also a fair amount of EVAxSnake, but mainly in flashbacks, the main pairing is SnakexParamedic. Also minor abusive language.
Prologue
Snake stood there, his throat constricted as the head of the CIA tried to shake his hand, the slime had sent The Boss on that mission, it was his idea, he had Ordered The Boss to let herself be killed by him, Snake or "Big Boss" as he was now called, he spat the name, Big Boss! How dare they!? he thought, as he brushed past the head and walked off, leaving the room with not even a backwards glance at his support team, for all he knew, they were in on it too. he strolled outside to the balcony, and sighed, reaching into the pocket, he pulled out a fine cuban cigar, and took a drag. Or more accurately was about too, as at that moment a finely-manicured feminine hand plucked it and stomped it underfoot, and then turned around.
.
"You could kill yourself with those" the voice said, a voice which he now recognized as that of his friend, Paramedic.
"What? how?" Snake asked suspiciously
"Well, I have a theory that cigars and cigarettes are dangerous to your health because they have ingredients like tar in them, plus they have nicotine, which is an addictive drug, which is why you want them, so the tar goes into your body as well as several other chemicals, and-" The rant went on for half an hour, Snake didn't even bother paying attention, a thought sprung to mind,
"Hey, you said you would tell me your name when I got back." he smirked, she paused mid-speech
"I did? Oh, right yes. well, it's Jane" Paramedic said, eyeing him suspiciously.
"I thought you said that as a joke,"
"Well, my name actually IS Jane, I just said "doe" to make sure you came home safe" she explained simply
"So all this time I knew your name?" Snake said, turning to face his female colleague.
"No, my surname is Clark, so in fact you only knew half of my name."
"The important part"
"Well, it depends on your perspective, I suppose."
They stood in silence for a while, staring out at the horizon, the sun was setting and the remaining light was so peaceful that he could drift away...
"Snake, it's not over yet!" a voice spat, as the pleasent memory turned into a nightmare, the face that had haunted his dreams appearing there, Colonel Volgin, his scarred face and evil, staring eyes, like those of a madman, dropped down and stabbed Paramedic
Present day, NEW YORK 17th of January, 1973. 4:03am
Snake woke up from the nightmare, it had been such a pleasent memory, until that... thing had shown up. He still wondered why on earth he had been electric, he had asked Paramedic, who had said she didn't know, and when would he take her to that movie he had promised? he hated the way she could turn even the most normal conversation into a question about things like that. dazed, he got up, and changed, his sneaking suit was being fixed by SIGINT's team, he knew, and so he changed into his Olive Drab uniform. sighing. he sat at his typewriter- a device SIGINT had mocked him about, but he loved it's old-world feel- and began to read the dosiers of the troops that had been assigned too that mission in Antarctica that had gone wrong.
MICHEAL J. FOXNER
Age: 24
Height: 5" 11'
Speciality: Rifles
And the rest were mor depressing, he got out his stamp and pressed it hard against the paper, three simple letters appeared over the picture, just three disconnected letters, that would make a mother, somewhere, cry herself to sleep for weeks, K.I.A.
Sighing, he brought the dosiers, for Dave, Franklin, and Rennetta and stamped the same red ink over their happy smiling faces. lost. The second that he met them, they were doomed to perish on that mission.
He went back to bed and tried to get some sleep, but now those four faces kept popping up in his mind. He got back up, put his uniform on and headed to the base.
Present day, NEW YORK 17th of January, 1973. 10:34 am
Ohshitohshitohshit Paramedic swore, she put her foot down further on the accelerator of her car, scattering her hastily bought breakfast of a Burger King burger. she had been one of the first to go to this new craze, a friend of hers had said "it was better then movies!" she hadn't been impressed, but she had to admit, it was prettty tasty. she wished she still had some of those InstantNoodles that Snake had brought back, now they were Delicious.
She ran into the front gate, leaving her driver's door open, and ran to the FOXHOUND building. she signed herself in and the all-too-snarky robotic voice made it's whirring noise, and whined "Good morning, Dr. Clark. you are 1 hour and thirty four minutes late, please-"
"Yes I know I know!" she snapped, as it processed her card, eventually the small green light ontop blinked once, and she ripped her security card out, running to the nearest door.
She just stared when she raised her ID card to swipe through the doors monitors. it was less an ID card, more two id-card-parts, held together by a thin line of nothing. she couldn't believe things were going so badly, still things could only get better. In a few hours time she would come to realise how very, very wrong that saying truly was...
.
.
.
"Good evening Paramedic, you're late" Snake said simply as she burst, sweating and panting into the conference room.
"I was- It was-" she tried explaining and held up the two halves of her Very borken ID card.
"Very well. Now then, I called you all hear to tell you, I need three teams of four people to come with me on a mission to Antarctica."
All the members shifted uneasily, including Snake, they numbered exactly twelve, not good for three four-man teams to be sent on a suicide mission.
"We meet at the hangar at 1300, good luck." Snake finished.
Well... Paramedic thought as the troops scattered, I don't know how it could be worse...
.
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.......
So, what did you think? please tell me and criticize when nescessary, please review, thanks for reading.