The helicopter blades whir and spin, creating a soporific sound. The adrenaline rush from hanging invisibly from a harness underneath a helicopter's belly, however, keeps the man awake.
Another man's voice rings in the invisible man's head. "Come in from downwind, then pull up fast! Get ready to fast rope down to Shell One! Five minutes to ETA!"
Annoyed, the man taps behind his ear. With one hand, the man adroitly dons a sophisticated piece of scuba gear and hangs onto the harness.
The helicopter begins to descend rapidly, thirty degrees above horizontal. The turbulent winds around the Big Shell force the helicopter to ascend. Using the centrifugal force to his advantage, the man disengages the harness from the belly of the helicopter by pulling a quick release cord. To mirror the helicopter's parabolic course, the man flies through the air in a graceful arc and splashes into the cold Atlantic.
Angry bubbles greet the man as buoyancy forces him upwards. Unfazed, the man kicks his way closer to the Big Shell and comes across an oil fence. After kicking, diving thirty meters, the man takes out an oxyhydrogen torch and begins to slice through the metal. In no time, the man creates a rectangular entry and dolphin-kicks his way through it.
Lights up ahead. The lights of the deep sea dock guide the man upward.
His head breaks the surface. Harsh lights around the sea dock illuminate the area. After surveying the area for any sentries, the man's hands grasp the rung of a metal ladder. In a fluid motion, he pulls himself upward and discards his scuba gear in the water.
He is dressed in a light blue, plastic-like sneaking suit. Belts and harnesses are situated across his chest, around his waist and his upper thighs. In a thigh holster is a Heckler and Koch USP; in a holster under his left arm is a Heckler and Koch Mk23 SOCOM.
Cautiously, the man makes his way up some stairs and finds a door with a metal hatch. Ever so slowly, he opens the hatch. With feline swiftness, the man leans his back against the wall, next to the door, and slowly peeks around the corner. Unbeknownst to him, a couple of sea lice make their way onto his sneaking suit and take refuge in his harness, drawn by his MREs.
After making sure everything is clear, the man slowly closes the door behind him. The door jams. Using an additional miniscule amount of energy to close the door, the man pulls the door towards himself.
SLAM!
"Vhat vas that noise just now?" a heavily-accented voice asks the void.
"Damn!" the man whispers to himself. The man surreptitiously makes his way toward the corner of the hallway and leans against the wall.
A lean soldier wearing tan fatigues and a black balaclava makes his way towards the noise. Like a trained professional, the soldier disengages the safety of his AN-94 and walks cautiously down the hallway. The automated door closes behind him. Just as he rounds the corner, the intruder's fist slams down upon the soldier's elbow crease pressure point. The soldier groans and loses the grip of his rifle. Swiftly, the guard reaches to his holster to retrieve his Makarov PM. He then turns his head to face his assailant, only to get an elbow right between the eyes.
"Ooof," the soldier manages before getting dizzy and disoriented. He gets pulled into the corner of the hallway, banging his head against the wall. He falls face down onto the metal grating, passes out.
Taking advantage of the momentary lapse of the guard's consciousness, the intruder moves along the hallway and passes through the automated door. He leans his back against a pair of stacked containers. Peeking around the corner, he finds a pair of guards, also wearing tan fatigues and black balaclavas, talking near a forklift. Both guards have their ANs leaning against the forklift.
"Slackers," the intruder says to himself, smiles. Sidling against the containers, the intruder makes his way towards the pair. Quickly, the intruder rounds the corner, grabs the back of one soldier's uniform, pivots, and hurls the soldier into the black metallic frame of the forklift. TONNNGGGGGGGG. The forklift reverberates from the impact. The soldier immediately gets knocked out.
Outside, in the hallway, the first soldier recovers and shakily stands up. He picks up his AN and attempts to shake off his dizziness. He is so discombobulated that he doesn't notice the hatch turn and the dock door open. He walks slowly towards his two comrades, trying to get his bearings.
The soldier by the forklift reaches for his AN, only to get a swift kick to his knee. The soldier buckles. Adeptly, the intruder gets the soldier in a headlock and withdraws the Makarov.
"Von't do you no good," the soldier taunts the intruder, "it uses a personal identification system."
"FREEZE!" the lean soldier yells, as he appears next to a metallic container.
"Back for more, huh?" the man asks in a gruff voice. "Gurlukovich would be disappointed at your sloppiness."
"I sai--" the lean soldier begins.
THUNK.
The intruder had thrown the Makarov squarely between the lean soldier's eyes, once again causing the soldier to lose consciousness.
The remaining soldier struggles against the intruder's hold. Ignoring the struggle, the intruder pulls the soldier onto the cargo elevator and presses the button. As the pulley system begins to engage, the intruder abruptly flexes his arm, causing the soldier to black out. The intruder pushes the limp body off the elevator as it begins to ascend.
The soldier impotently rolls off of the elevator and lands near a computer terminal as a second sneaking-suit clad intruder leans against the same stack of containers the first did.
"Hmmmph," the first intruder grunts as he turns his back on the Gurlukovich men.
The first intruder touches his finger behind his right ear.
"This is Snake. Kept you waiting, huh?"