Chapter 38
Searching
Snake and Wymond looked left and right before moving across the road to the adjacent sidewalk. Snake was no stranger to the streets of New York, and Wymond knew enough about it to appear to be a native of the city as well.
"Which bridge did you jump off?" asked Wymond.
Snake looked at the Cetra, "What?"
"In Metal Gear Solid 2, when you jumped off the bridge to get on the tanker," Wymond clarified.
Snake looked at the Cetra for a moment more before shaking his head slightly, "Do I wanna know how the hell you know about that?"
"I know a lot of things, not as much as Sam did, but I studied some stuff here and there," Wymond said.
Snake ignored Wymond's previous question and started walking again. Wymond decided to ask later.
"So we just walk until we come across the person we're looking for," Snake said.
"If we get within a certain distance I'll be able to sense them," Wymond said.
"How do you know they aren't dead?" asked Snake.
"You know the mysterious contact I mentioned before?" asked Wymond.
Snake nodded, "You couldn't contact her because you didn't have something called the City of the Ancients, something about needing water to talk to her."
"Exactly, that's who we're meeting," Wymond said.
"If you talked to her recently that means she must be alive," Snake agreed.
"Plus with the company she's keeping, there'd have to be an impossible number of enemies here to kill her," Wymond said. "She's alive, just where is the only question."
"You know her well enough to guess, I hope," Snake muttered, "because New York isn't a small place."
"Trial and error," Wymond said shrugging.
"Would she be hiding out? Or would she wanna blend in with the crowd?" asked Snake.
"Most likely blend in, she's probably dressed somewhat normally, she won't stand out too much," Wymond said. "I think I know where to start."
"Bars?" asked Snake.
Wymond looked at him curiously, "Yes, that's what I was thinking."
"It's where I'd start," Snake said.
Wymond looked at Snake in amusement for a moment before turning his attention to a bar a few feet ahead, "We'll start there."
"Bars should be pretty light this time of day, probably not many people to ask," Snake said.
"If the bartender doesn't know, chances are no one does," Wymond said.
Snake looked at Wymond, waiting for some kind of elaboration on why exactly he thought that. No such explanation was forthcoming so he decided to let it go at that.
They entered the small bar and found it exactly as Snake expected. There were all of about five people in the place, all clearly there for one reason: they had no jobs and were wasting the last of their money getting drunk. The only person in the place that didn't appear to be a complete loser was the bartender. He stood behind the bar like a sort of sentry, walking emotionlessly from time to time to see to other tasks before returning to his chosen spot. Wymond and Snake walked up to the bartender.
"What can I getcha?" asked the bartender.
"Actually, I'm more looking for a person than a drink," Wymond replied.
"I see a lot of people," the bartender shrugged.
"A woman," Wymond went on.
"Did my ex send you?" asked the bartender with narrowed eyes.
Wymond looked at the bartender curiously, "I don't think so."
"Tryin' t'get me t'say I see a lot of women, too so she has some more bullshit to use against me, get some more money outta me, what're you? Another one-a those Private Investigators?" asked the bartender.
"No, actually, I was kind of looking for just one specific woman," Wymond said.
The bartender still looked suspicious, "Alright, what's she look like?"
"Long brown hair, possibly wearing pink, it's her colour, probably had flowers," Wymond said.
The bartender shook his head, "Ain't seen anyone like that 'round here.
"You're sure?" asked Wymond.
"Positive," the bartender replied.
Snake accepted the answer well enough; Wymond seemed not so easily pleased.
"She would've most likely been in a dress of sorts, she wouldn't completely stand out, but you would probably notice her," Wymond said.
"Look man, I said I ain't seen no one like that," the bartender growled.
The guy just got irritated easily, or he was hiding something, even Snake could pick up on that now. Generally, when someone was anxious to get rid of you, anxious to get rid of the question, like this guy was, then someone knew something they weren't saying.
"Think back," Wymond said, his hand moved slowly toward his hidden sword, only Snake saw the movement. Only because he wanted Snake to see it, Snake wasn't sure exactly what was going on, but he readied himself for anything. "Sometime last week, last week was in, what, July, right?"
The bartender nodded, "Yeah, right, but the damn month don't make no difference, I'm tellin' ya, I ain't never saw—"
Wymond drew his large sword and placed the blade under the bartender's chin, "It's March here in the real world, mon ami, only a visiting Sigurd would be unaware of real world months and dates."
The five other losers in the room stood up from their seats, Snake drew two pistols and aimed them toward the five men.
"This place isn't empty because it's too early for a drink, it's empty because the patrons are dead and it's a little hide-out for visiting Cetra," Wymond growled.
The bartender's eyes lit up a bright green, indeed, a Sigurd. Likewise, the other five in the bar lit up with green eyes.
"We knew she was here somewhere, but now that you've confirmed that fact we can authorize a much larger force to appear and hunt her down," the bartender smiled.
Wymond smiled as well, "Not if you're not alive, you can't. I don't think you realize exactly why Sam chose to place Aeris and Cloud here of all places."
The Sigurd looked on curiously.
"He chose here, because it's one of the few existences that can negate Sigurd power," Wymond said, the bartender's expression changed to surprise, "you know what that means? It means you're only as good as the next guardian, and guess what, I'm the next guardian!"
Wymond drove his blade through the Sigurd's neck and into the wall behind him. Wymond withdrew the blade and allowed the lifeless body to fall to the ground.
"Well, go on, shoot them," Wymond said casually.
Snake aimed both pistols and fired away. Though the Sigurds' powers were lesser in a normal existence, they were still powerful. Enough to dodge Snake's first shots anyways, the five jumped and rolled off in different directions.
"Who are these guys?" growled Snake moving forward, figuring it would be harder for them to dodge the closer he shot.
"Cetra, like me, except a little more full of themselves," Wymond said.
Snake took that as answer enough and decided to focus on the enemies one at a time. The closest one was standing up from behind a table with a small sword drawn. He dived over the table and rolled, and then headed right toward Snake. Snake couldn't get a shot off fast enough so he instead decided to sidestep, narrowly missing the blade. Snake turned and fired off a shot, hitting the Sigurd in the back of the head.
Four to go.
Wymond shot across the room and smashed one Sigurd with the hilt of his sword, then quickly finished him with a blade to the stomach. The Sigurd usually weren't so easily dispatched, but under the circumstances they were at a disadvantage.
Three left.
Snake ducked under the horizontal slash of a sword and popped up, connecting the butt of his pistol with the Sigurd's chin, sending him staggering backward. Snake quickly kicked forward sending his opponent further back, and now doubled over. Snake emptied the clip of his gun into the stunned enemy just as the second last Sigurd charged him. The sword sliced a narrow cut along Snake's right arm; he growled and struggled to avoid another attack by the Sigurd. The green-eyed bar patron continued forward, slashing left and right.
"Sam Fisher probably would have them dead by now," Wymond taunted.
Snake ducked under a slash, grabbed the Sigurd's sword arm, pulled it backward and chopped downward with the butt of his pistol. He didn't take the time to look exactly, but by the sickening sound, and the scream, something was broken. The Sigurd fell to his knees, holding the useless arm. Snake picked up the Sigurd's dropped blade and used it to behead his enemy, all the while appearing not to hear the Splinter Cell remark from Wymond.
"Who's Sam Fisher?" asked Snake.
Wymond smiled, "Let's just say everyone wants to be like you, but only the real thing can deliver."
Snake decided, as he usually did, not to question any further. The last Sigurd charged at Wymond, the guardian was more than prepared to defend himself. Snake dropped the bloodied sword, aimed his second pistol, the one with ammo, and fired. The bullet blasted the Sigurd off his feet and onto the ground awkwardly.
"Well shot," Wymond commented, sheathing his sword.
Snake reloaded both pistols and holstered them, "Where's mister cloak and dagger gone to? He couldn't help us with that?"
Wymond shrugged, "Maybe he went off to find my contact."
"What now?" asked Snake.
"The Sigurd heard from someone that she was here, which means it's very likely she's here. Whether they knew for sure or not is irrelevant, but I get the vibe he knew a lot more than he let on, that bartender."
"Well, dead men don't talk," Snake said.
"True enough, let's get out of here before police arrive, this would be very hard to explain, possibly Vincent has discovered something," Wymond said, walking out of the bar with Snake in tow.
Apparently, no one outside had heard anything, and there was no commotion that suggested any police forces were on their way.
The two left the scene unnoticed and continued to walk down the sidewalk. They walked on for about twenty minutes, give or take, before a voice started speaking to both of them.
"This is Vincent, do these communication devices still work?" asked Vincent's slightly distorted voice.
"I hear you," Snake said, picking up the signal through his Codec.
"I hear you as well, Vincent, what's going on?" asked Wymond.
"I think I may have found who we're looking for, who I assume we're looking for, anyways," Vincent said.
"Where are you?" asked Wymond.
"Keep walking straight from the bar you just entered, you'll see what I see soon," Vincent replied, "did you find anything useful in the bar?"
"Useful not so much," Wymond said, looking at Snake, "interesting, maybe."
"Tell me all about it after," Vincent said, cutting communication.
"Let's go," Wymond said.
The two walked at a faster pace, not entirely sure what they were looking for.
They saw what Vincent saw after only a few seconds.
An old-fashioned looking stand looked to at one point have sold things like newspapers and whatnot.
Now, clearly, its main product was flowers, lots and lots of flowers.
Snake looked at Wymond, "You mentioned flowers before."
Wymond nodded, smiling, "I'm almost not surprised."
"Almost?" asked Snake.
"The fact she would own a place to sell flowers is entirely expected," Wymond said, "it's the fact it's being sold for one dollar instead of one Gil that just seems odd."