Scorpion Strike
Chapter 4
These Colors Don't Run
'These colors don't run, from cold bloody war.'
Over Atlantic Ocean in C-130 Hercules
Greg looked down at the floor as they roared 30, 000 feet over the Atlantic en route to Mogadishu, Somalia. Just hours ago, he had received a call from Meryl telling him what had happened to James and how they had lost contact with Task Force Ranger. Immediately he had gathered his belongings and with Riku, Nagi and Tot had joined up with Charlie, Alpha and Delta Company of the 3/75 to assist.
"What's the matter Greg?" Riku Hanabishi asked from his seat opposite Greg.
"Just hoping James is okay. He and I have known each other for a long time, and he's one of the few people who I can call a best friend."
"I'm sure he's alright," Tot replied. "He's more than capable of winning this fight.
"This is different. He's never fought ocelot or a Metal Gear except in VR."
Nagi gave a shrug.
"Do you think Reese is connected at all with this?"
Unbeknownst to the rest of FOXHOUND, Matthew Reese had recently become a General and was being considered for Secretary of Defense. More than likely a job secured by the patriots.
"We know now that Reese and Ocelot have worked together before. Plus, Reese wants to be a Wiseman."
The others nodded and remained silent until the door to the cockpit opened. Lieutenant-Colonel George Ivey, Commander of the 3rd Battalion, walked in. He had steel gray hair in a standard high and tight haircut and a small cigar jutting out of the corner of his mouth
"alright gentleman, we're coming into African waters. Insertion is a big issue if Masterson has lost his CP. A jump is out. As is air assault. We may have to mass combat tac drop equipment, vehicles and personnel. We're going to try establishing communications, but let's hope for our sake that Bravo and Easy still control some parts of it. We just got word that Delta Force operatives are on route with another of your people."
"Any word who?" Tot asked.
"That's all we got. The 11th Marine Expeditionary Force has just landed too, so the Sons of Liberty have a fight on their hands. I'll be up front and will tell you when we get within comm. range."
Greg nodded and leaned back against the bulkhead. Whatever had happened down there, he hoped he wasn't too late.
Shadow Moses, Nine years Ago…
Private James Masterson woke with a start and immediately tried to draw a knife, but found his arms pinned to the chair he was in. he spent a moment calmly trying to piece together what had happened. He had been on his way back from evening training, when someone had grabbed him from behind. Before he could counterattack, a syringe had been jabbed into his neck, causing him to pass out.
He looked around the room he was in, but it was barren save for a tv with a box on top of it. The ropes binding him to the chair were tight, but not to the point where circulation was being cut off. He was contemplating how to get out, the tv came on.
"Hello James. I want to play a game."
The one speaking looked like a puppet with red eyes and swirls painted on its cheeks.
"You have been given a chance to have a life filled with meaning and purpose, but you constantly disrespect your master and not take his lessons to heart. Well, now is your time to learn well. There is a tests awaiting you in three adjacent rooms. You must pass all of them to make it out of here alive. Simply put, there is an explosive imbedded in your neck that should you try to run or don't complete these tests in two hours, it will explode. Make your choice. Live or die…"
The tv went to static and James screamed loudly.
"LET ME OUT!!"
---
Ocelot turned from the monitors toward the man who had set up this test. Though stooped and bald, John Kramer had not lost any of his old vigor in his games. The man known as the Jigsaw killer had more than willingly come to Alaska to help his with his problem. Training James had been problematic for awhile. At first he quietly listened to everything Ocelot had to teach him, but as the training became more intense, his will had wavered. This was James' chance to succeed.
---
Present Day,
Sparks flew as Scorpion and Ocelot's knives clashed. The dance had been going on for several minutes but neither showed signs of relenting.
"What brought you here James?" Ocelot taunted. "The thrill of the hunt? The chance to make yourself a leader?"
Scorpion said nothing, not letting him be drawn in by the jibes.
"Or is it something more, something burning deep down inside you. A simpler human emotion? Revenge?"
"No, closure."
The Test,
James entered the room adjacent to the one he woke up in. He fumbled in the dark for a moment before finding a switch.
A man sat naked and bleeding in a chair. His head was slumped but by the way his chest was moving, James could judge he was alive. A tape player sat in his lap. On it was a Post-It note that read 'PLAY ME'. James grabbed it and cautiously pressed the play button.
"Welcome back James. The man sitting in front of you is named Lance Corporal Bennet. He has roughly the same amount of time you have to live. Of course, not by the same means. He is slowly bleeding to death internally. Taped to the chair beneath him is a Taurus .44 Magnum with one round. Do you have the will to show mercy and end this mans suffering. Be warned, the only way to open the door to your next test is for this man to die. If not, this room will be the grave for both of you. Make your choice."
The tape ended and James reached behind the man and found the pistol. He opened the cylinder, and true to the tape there was one hollow point round. Snapping it shut James hefted the large revolver and put it to the man's temple. Shutting his eyes, James pulled the trigger.
Present,
The two's blades were locked together as they wrestled for control. Sweat began forming on Scorpion's forehead. Even as an expert at the Spetznaz style of knife-wielding, Ocelot was still the one who trained him.
Ancient samurai believed that two men, of equal skill and intelligence could fight forever without a winner. This was the case.
"What did my family do to you? I read the reports, that story about potential was a crock of shit."
Ocelot smirked as he leaped out of Scorpion's range.
"What did my father know that necessitated the Patriots actions?"
Ocelot lowered his weapon slightly. "About time someone realized what happened wasn't my idea. James… You were supposed to die that night."
"Why?"
-
"It all began in 1964. The year of the Virtuous Mission and Operation Snake Eater. At that time I was a CIA operative within the Spetznaz, feeding information through my codename 'ADAM'. There were several key people within the background of both operations. Only two are important. One was Colonel David Reese."
"You mean Lt. Reese's father?"
"You haven't heard. Reese is a General now. Colonel Reese worked for the CIA and handled all liaisons for intel. He was my handler. He was also the Patriot's puppet pulling CIA strings. The only man involved who wasn't in the pockets of anybody was Ensign Victor Masterson, then a Navy Seal officer who was placed behind the scenes to help provided knowledge on the terrain for the missions.
The mission was a success. Both men went on to successful military careers, except for one problem. In 1997 Major General Reese was found assassinated in his home. Simple job. I knew that he was beginning to slip up at work, so the Patriots cut loose the mortal coil. Matthew was devastated. He had just finished Special Forces training and was going to OCS school. He was offered his father's job for the patriot's, his first mission was to recruit Commander Masterson to join them. At this point your father was a SEAL team coomander assigned to lead Delta Force. I knew Victor because he along with Big Boss, formed FOXHOUND.
Simply put, your father refused to join. That was where things went to shit. I was called in and given the order to terminate the Masterson family as a warning to other 'stubborn' individuals. I didn't want to do it, but through their dog Reese they made it clear that my life was meaningless to them. I went to your family's home and shot your mother and father, but then you came in. I couldn't kill you. I had to make it up to Victor. I took you with me to Shadow Moses. The Patriots could never find you there. I needed enough time to ensure you could protect yourself. I enlisted Wolf to train you. By the time Liquid took over, I k new my part was done."
"So that's why you left me…"
"James, all these years I just wanted to apologize."
"It's not too late. You can come with me."
"No. Not with Liquid. I can feeling him getting stronger. Before he takes over, I have to tell you…"
Ocelot screamed bloody murder as he held onto his arm.
"NO!!!!"
"Yes," a British voice responded a moment later.
Scorpion picked up a dropped M4 and leveled it at Liquid Ocelot.
"So you must be this James I've heard so much about," Liquid quipped. "Lovely to meet you. You can put down the rifle. My business is with those bloody Rangers."
"Guess you haven't heard. I am a Ranger."
Liquid smirked before leaping onto one of the surrounding buildings. Scorpion knew exactly where he was going. He was going to find Ray.
As he went to collect Simmons' dog tags and Stinger, he noticed something Ocelot had dropped. A small floppy disk, the kind that stores information.
It read 'Guns of the Patriots'.
'Far away from the land of our birth
We fly a flag over some foreign earth
We'll sail away
Like our fathers before
These colours don't run
From cold bloody war'
A/n: Usual stuff Shardclaw Kusanagi owns Greg and Dark Fusion owns Nagi, Tot and Riku. Hoo-ah
