Metal Gear: Cobra's Tide
Written By: Unknown
Prologue
"After the end of World War II, the world was split into two - East and West. This marked the beginning of the era called the Cold War."
-Naked Snake
January 23rd, 1922. A harsh scream erupted through the small cottage in Dearing, Kansas. The walls were made of an old, rotting oak wood which barely kept any sound isolated. The woman's screams continued until they suddenly ceased and were replaced with cries of joy as a 5.93 pound baby erupted into the cold abode from the faint, but happy, mother. The father took a step back and cherished the moment.
"What should we name her?" The father asked in amazement.
"Aculina" the mother responded
"Then Aculina it is." The father gathered the girl who was now called Aculina in a bundle of old clothes to keep her warm from the cold wind which blew in from the lake.
Unbeknownst to them footsteps resounded from outside the poorly built door, which was almost rotted down to the hinges. The footsteps were accompanied by hushed whispers which came across as shrill through the cool Kansas breeze. The father instinctively looked up from the girl and peered at the door quizzically, wondering who could possibly be awake at three in the morning.
"Carroll, take Aculina for a moment" said the father. He made to approach the mother but only took a step when the door suddenly exploded inward followed by a loud "BREACHING!" The father quickly reacted and made to reach for his drawer which sat beside the old double bed, when a hand shot out and grabbed his wrist, pinning it against the wall. The mother shrieked as the hidden figures entered the house. The candle which had illuminated the dim room was now just a distant memory as the shadowy shapes moved with almost absolute silence throughout the small cottage.
"Clear!" one voice rang out "Bathroom clear!" shouted another. The father still held the baby with the one hand he had that wasn't pinned, but it was clear his grip was slipping. The figure who was pinning the father's hand let go and scooped up the baby in it's arms. "Get that damn candle lit Carro." a voice resounded. "Aye, sir." followed within the same second and a small flame once again illuminated the cottage room.
The figures shroud of darkness was pulled away, only to reveal four black helmets with the letters DIA written across the top. The faces were hidden by black bandanas accompanied with a white skull stopping at the eye holes, which were cut out to make room for actual eyes. The outfits were all similar, a black cargo vest with a heavy combat sweater underneath. The pants were a midnight black, with a pistol holder which attached to the outer thigh. The pistol holder held a 1911 which glimmered in the flame. The person who had held down the father's hand previously was now rocking the baby, attempting to soothe her. The three others made their way over to the bed where the mother was now crying. "Please don't hurt my baby" she half whispered through a hoarse voice. A figure exclaimed "We're not here to hurt you, or your baby." It was an obvious female from the voice. She took off her helmet along with her bandana and the rest of the figures followed suit. Soon the room was filled with actual faces illuminated from the candle. The figure closest to the female was a roguish looking male who had a beard which seemed roughly cut. His hair was messy and strewn about, but there was an order to the black mess somehow. The woman promptly identified herself. "1st Sgt. Leena Moores, DIA."
The father's eyes darted back and forth between the baby and his wife. "We were assigned to extract a certain package as it is vital to the country's protection." the sergeant explained. "What the he-... How did yo-... GET THE HELL OUT OF MY HOUSE!" the father shouted. "Unfortunately Mr. Mundy, that's impossible at this point. We were assigned a mission and we will complete it. With, or without your cooperation mind you." The woman replied. "You're going to take my baby?" The mother inquired, voice breaking.
A man from the back of the group, carrying a side-by-side .12 gauge on his back, now since holstered once they determined the couple was not a threat. "You mustn't interfere with government business. Please ma'am, we're begging you. We have strict orders that we must follow if the situation calls for it." the man pleaded. "And what might those orders be?" demanded the father. The woman spoke up "Extract and eliminate if necessary. We are doing everything in our power to cooperate with you, but we will be forced to utilize lethal force if you do not comply with our further commands."
The baby now began to emit an ear piercing wail, sending the mother into further hysterics. Mr. Mundy's eyes now darted back and forth from the leader to his end table. The person who held the baby began to sing to it, attempting soothe the baby through the whole ordeal. The man carried a Thompson, complete with a drum magazine. The father, who was quick to notice attention shifts, made a move towards the end table, throwing open the drawer and grabbing the revolver within a couple of seconds.
The woman instantly reacted by pulling her 1911 away from her hip and instantly aimed it at the wife. Mr. Mundy held the revolver almost trance like in midair, waiting for the shot to ring out that would end his wife. It never came. The man who had been tending to the baby had tossed Aculina to the furthest man back, away from the action, and was now behind Mr. Mundy. The man pressed the barrel of his pistol against the father's cranium. "One move and we end the world as you know it." the man hissed. Mr. Mundy timidly set down his revolver on the end table and the man, still with the barrel to the father's head, secured the weapon, emptying the rounds and spilling them onto the floor. "Now that your little tantrum is over, how about we get on with our lives, we all have more important matters to attend to I assume." Just then a faint buzzing noise was heard coming from the sergeant's shoulder. It was a large box with an antenna sticking out. "It's Mr. Macnamra." she whispered to the man with the Thompson. The woman stepped outside and a faint conversation could be heard. "Leena, have you secured the package?" Macnamra asked hurriedly.
"Negative sir, there was a complication." Leena replied. "What kind of complication? We don't have time for stalling. This child is born to be a soldier, we mustn't waste time with such petty issues." "Sir, the woman, she's married to-" the woman started. "So execute her. Plain and simple. Anymore outlandish questions? Also, make sure you tidy up the place, the police will definitely investigate the matter. Get it done, and make sure the package is not injured. The plane is approximately 20 minutes out. Macnamra out." The woman scoffed at how the man could so simply brush murder off as though it was as simple as killing an annoying fly. The woman made her way back into the cottage and rejoined the group. "I don't care WHAT your orders are, you will NOT be taking my daughter from me tonight, or EVER!" The father shouted. "Enough of this." the woman interjected.
She whispered something to the man with the side-by-side shotgun and he nodded. The man whispered something the the person holding the baby, causing the person to leave the small cottage. As they walked out into the brisk night, a scream resounded from the cottage, followed by two flashes of light and two sharp booms.
Approximately 20 minutes later the team was rejoined and followed the Boeing model 40 with their eyes across the sky. Shortly thereafter they boarded the plane and began to take off again. The grassy makeshift runway looked as though it was parting only for the plane. Then everything faded to white.