Chapter Seven: A Paradox
The halls seemed endless. When you would see a dead end, another path would branch this way or that, and around the next corner would be yet another guard: armed with a gun, and suited in the same odd camouflage as the one before him. Nothing seemed to change. Endless…endless halls…
A shadow crept slowly around the corner. A soldier stood, headphones held about his ears, looking at nothing but the endless hallways. His back was turned to the shadow as the body that gave it life slowly and quietly stalked up behind him. He tapped his feet on the shiny white floor, trying to match the beat of the song that had preoccupied him.
One quick movement and he fell to the ground…dead. Snake stood above him, his arms at his sides after having swiftly broken the man's neck. All that could be heard was the music emanating from the headphones that rested a few feet from the soldier's head. Snake kneeled down beside the soldier and delicately lifted the headphones from the floor. He held them wide, as to not touch his ears, and brought them close to is face. Before he heard three notes, he cast the headphones across the floor and began to massage his ears.
"That's music?" he asked himself and stood. His eyes strayed to the body that lay before him. He wore no mask, like the others, and Snake could see his face - so pale - staring back at him. Snake pulled his eyes away and stepped over the body as he continued down the hall, stepping on the headphones as he went.
He continued nothing but halls lay out before him. As time passed, he came to notice the scarce number of guards populating the area. But, as he came to another corner, he stopped and pushed his back against the adjacent wall. Two voices were shooting back and forth in the next room.
"When will he be here?" It was Revolver Ocelot, his Russian accent unmistakable. Then, another jumped in. It belonged to Raiden or Jack the Ripper as he had come to call himself.
"Should be soon," he replied. "He liked the price."
"15 million? Are you giving him all of it?" Ocelot questioned. Snake looked around the corner to see the two standing at the foot of a freight elevator. The look on Jack's face was so familiar: somewhat mischievous, but at the same time so anxious.
"Our share will be here soon enough. 15 million is a small price to pay for such a valuable item," he returned. Snake looked confused.
"Valuable item?" Snake asked himself in a quiet tone as he watched the two bicker and negotiate.
"So, they matched your request? Even after the delivery?" Ocelot asked.
"Hmm, this is where it gets tricky. They deny ever having sent the thirty- million."
"How is that?" Ocelot looked confused, himself.
"We had the money checked. It's valid, not marked, but look at it this way: it's an extra 15 million - no effort required."
"You are foolish like your father before you. Both of you trusted those you should not."
"Only, I don't trust you. I know better than that. I think…maybe it is you that has their trust misplaced," Jack grinned. Snake could sense something strange in Jack's voice. He had never spoken so maturely. He was always ecstatic, and as he stood around the corner, he seemed so much different in that sense. "Turret is with the hostages on the third floor. Watch for your friend and when he does arrive, have him find me. Then we can get on with the operation."
Ocelot looked down at the floor and then up at Jack. "Remember, Mr. Ripper…do not place trust in those you should not." He turned and started for a door in the left wall of the room. As he disappeared, Jack watched with angry eyes.
"You, Shalashaska," Jack said very quietly, as to not alert Ocelot, "would do best to remember that yourself." Then, he stepped onto the freight elevator and waited for it to ascend to the levels above. Snake listened closely, and managed to determine that Jack had gone to the second floor.
"Second floor – Jack, third floor – hostages…third floor first," Snake told himself and then he stood and moved into the next room where Jack and Ocelot had just been conversing. All he had to do was wait for the elevator to come back down, and then he would take it up to the third floor and would search until he located the hostages. "I wonder…who's Turret?"
Just then, he heard the elevator kick in and he shifted to watch it come down, but as he watched he picked out four figures standing on the descending platform. Without room for thought, he threw himself behind a small crate and tried to hide his body, completely.
The elevator halted and the barred doors slid aside as the men readied their weapons and stepped onto the dusty floor. Behind them, the doors of the elevator shut tight. "Patrol the halls," one of them said and the others replied with simple nods. Then, they split – two and two – and went on their way, but just as Snake was getting ready to stand, one of them jerked around and raised his weapon, the crosshairs dead center on Snake's chest. He jumped aside, and a bullet flew.
Dodging him, narrowly, the bullet shattered the concrete wall as it impacted behind Snake who had fallen heavily on the floor of the room. All of the soldiers had turned, and were aiming where he was crouched…right behind a crate…a crate full of explosives. Only on the other side of the crate were the words displayed, and it was then that Snake realized his unimaginable luck.
"Come out! Hands up!" One of the soldiers yelled, but Snake simply grunted and began to stand, one hand in the air, and the other aimed at the explosives box. The soldiers looked from Snake to the crate, their eyes running to and fro in confusion and bewilderment. "Drop the gun!"
"You are in no position to give me orders, soldier," Snake remarked and glanced down at the crate, a grin spread wide across his face. "I'm going to give you five seconds to get out of my sight, or else I blow this place sky-high." The soldiers did not budge. "One…" Snake began, and they debated in their minds what action to take. "Two…" their legs become weary and their minds began to stray from their duties. "Three…" Snake did not waver an inch, and his eyes remained set on the soldiers, his gun on the crate at his feet. "Four…" The soldiers slowly backed away, and just before he yelled out again, they turned 'round and ran in desperation, fear across their faces. "Five!" All but one of them had turned away, the other stood, aiming at Snake, his hands shaking. Snake didn't shoot the crate, and the soldier called out, "Freeze!" At the sound of this, the other soldiers returned, and Snake found himself pinned down. He arrived at a paradox.
He could shoot the explosives crate, die, but also manage to take out the other soldiers, and possibly set off a chain reaction that could lead to the destruction of other sections of Hell's Outpost. On the other hand, he could roll aside, and let the bullets fly. Without time to think, he rolled to the right.
The moment the first bullet left the first weapon of the first soldier, one left Snake's SOCOM and pierced the still air with an intention to kill. And, as the concrete wall seemed to implode in various locations where the messengers of the enemy landed, a single body fell, and then a second, and a third, and as Snake recovered from his roll, the last bullet in the last clip, of the last weapon, of the last soldier landed behind him.
Snake stood, and the soldier tried desperately to fire his gun again, but to his misfortune, his handiwork would not be the one to take Snake's life. Terrified and without ideas, the soldier ran for the elevator, but before he had a chance to hop onboard, or even engage the doors in sliding aside, he fell against the bars and slumped to the floor. Snake lowered his SOCOM and holstered it, then went over to the elevator.
"Sorry," he said, as he looked down on the man whose eyes were wide and afraid, peering through the holes in his ski mask. Snake grabbed the soldier's soldiers and slid him aside before pushing the button to the right of the elevator, marked with an arrow pointing upwards. The barred doors slid aside and Snake stepped on to the platform. There, he stood as the doors closed and as the room where four new bodies lay dead, passed out of sight.
The elevator doors opened again, and Snake saw out into a hall, which was connected to one very important room. He took notice to the sign that hung from the ceiling of the hall: Floor 3. The hostages were being held somewhere on that floor, and someone by the name of Turret was waiting for a rat like Snake to walk on in. It would be good targeting practice, no?
Snake stepped into the hall, his SOCOM raised high as he looked left, then right. The hall was clear as far as he could tell, and from what he could tell, to the left were two doors, and to the right – one. "A fork in the road…left," he said, and he turned in that direction and continued on.
A few feet later, he found himself at the first door. There was no window built into it, thus he had no way of telling what he was walking into, but the risk was something he had surely taken many times before. He avoided crashing down the door, for he realized it or any other loud sound could alert nearby soldiers. So, he had to quietly sneak into the room and at the same time not fire his gun, even if it meant protecting himself. But, if it did come to that, he would surely not hesitate to pull the trigger for as long as he took another life, his would not be in vain.
He turned the doorknob very slowly, and when it was turned all that it could be, he lightly pushed in on it and crouched low as it opened. Luckily, it did not creak for Hell's Outpost had only JUST been completed, and was still being checked by the engineers and construction workers who had, evidently, wound up in the very room where he was. As he looked in, he realized that he had found the room he was looking for. All around, were hostages, but they all faced the other direction.
It closed, and Snake quickly scurried beneath a table and peered on. Among the hostages, one was facing him. As Snake squinted harder, he realized that it was one of the delivery boys, his ski mask still fit snugly over his head. After having heard all that he had, he knew that something weird was up with the money. The government (or Patriots, rather) had denied ever having sent the money, and this fact made Snake very curious. The delivery boy had to know something, so he watched and moved into the center of the room and quickly came to the delivery boy who was tied against a concrete pillar. Snake crouched in front of him, and began.
"Wake up," he grunted and the man's eyes opened. Through the ski mask, Snake could tell that he had begun to smile. "You were one of the deliverers…what do you know? Who is it you're working for?" The man did not answer, but instead sat motionless. "Talk to me!" Snake kept quiet, but his voice had become strained and angry. Still, the man did not answer, but as Snake felt the floor of the room shudder, the man's eyes grew wider, and he jerked his head forward as if to warn him.
"A visitor." A young, but bold voice erupted from behind, and Snake quickly jumped up, raised his SOCOM, and sidestepped toward to door, then stopped. The man was somewhat bulky, but still nothing like Vulcan Raven had appeared. On his back were two large objects, their heads jutting outward and in sight of Snake. They appeared to be some sort of weapons, but without a closer look, he could not be sure. "What brings you here, visitor?" The man asked.
"You're Turret, right?" Snake questioned, and the man laughed a hearty, sly laugh, then narrowed his eyes on Snake.
"That is right. You look…vaguely familiar…Solid Snake is it? It seems that you have been expected here, tonight."
"What does that mean?" Snake slowly continued to move toward the door.
"Ah ah ah, stop right there," Turret's index finger was waving in the air, a grin spread across his face. "You're not leaving this room…alive. In fact, I can think of two ways for you to handle this situation. Either you run, and most likely spill your blood across this room, or you shoot at me and I kill this friend of yours." Turret held his right arm behind his back, and one of the giant objects that had been on his back, seemed to jump onto his arm. He caught it and aimed it at the delivery boy. Snake looked at it oddly.
"Fortune…" he said.
"Ah, yes. You know, I had this weapon specially-designed. It's nearly an exact replica of the late Fortune's gun, and this," he said as he held his left arm behind his back, pulling forth a long, heavy-looking chain gun, and "is a slightly shorter replica of the late Vulcan Raven's chain gun You see, I find myself at a paradox. On one hand, I have Fortune's weapon, which I could use to kill you, and on the other, I have Raven's. The decision is simply mind-boggling!" He paused for a moment, but then continued. "I do believe…I have reached a conclusion. I will use them both. Snake," he began, "fire!"
The halls seemed endless. When you would see a dead end, another path would branch this way or that, and around the next corner would be yet another guard: armed with a gun, and suited in the same odd camouflage as the one before him. Nothing seemed to change. Endless…endless halls…
A shadow crept slowly around the corner. A soldier stood, headphones held about his ears, looking at nothing but the endless hallways. His back was turned to the shadow as the body that gave it life slowly and quietly stalked up behind him. He tapped his feet on the shiny white floor, trying to match the beat of the song that had preoccupied him.
One quick movement and he fell to the ground…dead. Snake stood above him, his arms at his sides after having swiftly broken the man's neck. All that could be heard was the music emanating from the headphones that rested a few feet from the soldier's head. Snake kneeled down beside the soldier and delicately lifted the headphones from the floor. He held them wide, as to not touch his ears, and brought them close to is face. Before he heard three notes, he cast the headphones across the floor and began to massage his ears.
"That's music?" he asked himself and stood. His eyes strayed to the body that lay before him. He wore no mask, like the others, and Snake could see his face - so pale - staring back at him. Snake pulled his eyes away and stepped over the body as he continued down the hall, stepping on the headphones as he went.
He continued nothing but halls lay out before him. As time passed, he came to notice the scarce number of guards populating the area. But, as he came to another corner, he stopped and pushed his back against the adjacent wall. Two voices were shooting back and forth in the next room.
"When will he be here?" It was Revolver Ocelot, his Russian accent unmistakable. Then, another jumped in. It belonged to Raiden or Jack the Ripper as he had come to call himself.
"Should be soon," he replied. "He liked the price."
"15 million? Are you giving him all of it?" Ocelot questioned. Snake looked around the corner to see the two standing at the foot of a freight elevator. The look on Jack's face was so familiar: somewhat mischievous, but at the same time so anxious.
"Our share will be here soon enough. 15 million is a small price to pay for such a valuable item," he returned. Snake looked confused.
"Valuable item?" Snake asked himself in a quiet tone as he watched the two bicker and negotiate.
"So, they matched your request? Even after the delivery?" Ocelot asked.
"Hmm, this is where it gets tricky. They deny ever having sent the thirty- million."
"How is that?" Ocelot looked confused, himself.
"We had the money checked. It's valid, not marked, but look at it this way: it's an extra 15 million - no effort required."
"You are foolish like your father before you. Both of you trusted those you should not."
"Only, I don't trust you. I know better than that. I think…maybe it is you that has their trust misplaced," Jack grinned. Snake could sense something strange in Jack's voice. He had never spoken so maturely. He was always ecstatic, and as he stood around the corner, he seemed so much different in that sense. "Turret is with the hostages on the third floor. Watch for your friend and when he does arrive, have him find me. Then we can get on with the operation."
Ocelot looked down at the floor and then up at Jack. "Remember, Mr. Ripper…do not place trust in those you should not." He turned and started for a door in the left wall of the room. As he disappeared, Jack watched with angry eyes.
"You, Shalashaska," Jack said very quietly, as to not alert Ocelot, "would do best to remember that yourself." Then, he stepped onto the freight elevator and waited for it to ascend to the levels above. Snake listened closely, and managed to determine that Jack had gone to the second floor.
"Second floor – Jack, third floor – hostages…third floor first," Snake told himself and then he stood and moved into the next room where Jack and Ocelot had just been conversing. All he had to do was wait for the elevator to come back down, and then he would take it up to the third floor and would search until he located the hostages. "I wonder…who's Turret?"
Just then, he heard the elevator kick in and he shifted to watch it come down, but as he watched he picked out four figures standing on the descending platform. Without room for thought, he threw himself behind a small crate and tried to hide his body, completely.
The elevator halted and the barred doors slid aside as the men readied their weapons and stepped onto the dusty floor. Behind them, the doors of the elevator shut tight. "Patrol the halls," one of them said and the others replied with simple nods. Then, they split – two and two – and went on their way, but just as Snake was getting ready to stand, one of them jerked around and raised his weapon, the crosshairs dead center on Snake's chest. He jumped aside, and a bullet flew.
Dodging him, narrowly, the bullet shattered the concrete wall as it impacted behind Snake who had fallen heavily on the floor of the room. All of the soldiers had turned, and were aiming where he was crouched…right behind a crate…a crate full of explosives. Only on the other side of the crate were the words displayed, and it was then that Snake realized his unimaginable luck.
"Come out! Hands up!" One of the soldiers yelled, but Snake simply grunted and began to stand, one hand in the air, and the other aimed at the explosives box. The soldiers looked from Snake to the crate, their eyes running to and fro in confusion and bewilderment. "Drop the gun!"
"You are in no position to give me orders, soldier," Snake remarked and glanced down at the crate, a grin spread wide across his face. "I'm going to give you five seconds to get out of my sight, or else I blow this place sky-high." The soldiers did not budge. "One…" Snake began, and they debated in their minds what action to take. "Two…" their legs become weary and their minds began to stray from their duties. "Three…" Snake did not waver an inch, and his eyes remained set on the soldiers, his gun on the crate at his feet. "Four…" The soldiers slowly backed away, and just before he yelled out again, they turned 'round and ran in desperation, fear across their faces. "Five!" All but one of them had turned away, the other stood, aiming at Snake, his hands shaking. Snake didn't shoot the crate, and the soldier called out, "Freeze!" At the sound of this, the other soldiers returned, and Snake found himself pinned down. He arrived at a paradox.
He could shoot the explosives crate, die, but also manage to take out the other soldiers, and possibly set off a chain reaction that could lead to the destruction of other sections of Hell's Outpost. On the other hand, he could roll aside, and let the bullets fly. Without time to think, he rolled to the right.
The moment the first bullet left the first weapon of the first soldier, one left Snake's SOCOM and pierced the still air with an intention to kill. And, as the concrete wall seemed to implode in various locations where the messengers of the enemy landed, a single body fell, and then a second, and a third, and as Snake recovered from his roll, the last bullet in the last clip, of the last weapon, of the last soldier landed behind him.
Snake stood, and the soldier tried desperately to fire his gun again, but to his misfortune, his handiwork would not be the one to take Snake's life. Terrified and without ideas, the soldier ran for the elevator, but before he had a chance to hop onboard, or even engage the doors in sliding aside, he fell against the bars and slumped to the floor. Snake lowered his SOCOM and holstered it, then went over to the elevator.
"Sorry," he said, as he looked down on the man whose eyes were wide and afraid, peering through the holes in his ski mask. Snake grabbed the soldier's soldiers and slid him aside before pushing the button to the right of the elevator, marked with an arrow pointing upwards. The barred doors slid aside and Snake stepped on to the platform. There, he stood as the doors closed and as the room where four new bodies lay dead, passed out of sight.
The elevator doors opened again, and Snake saw out into a hall, which was connected to one very important room. He took notice to the sign that hung from the ceiling of the hall: Floor 3. The hostages were being held somewhere on that floor, and someone by the name of Turret was waiting for a rat like Snake to walk on in. It would be good targeting practice, no?
Snake stepped into the hall, his SOCOM raised high as he looked left, then right. The hall was clear as far as he could tell, and from what he could tell, to the left were two doors, and to the right – one. "A fork in the road…left," he said, and he turned in that direction and continued on.
A few feet later, he found himself at the first door. There was no window built into it, thus he had no way of telling what he was walking into, but the risk was something he had surely taken many times before. He avoided crashing down the door, for he realized it or any other loud sound could alert nearby soldiers. So, he had to quietly sneak into the room and at the same time not fire his gun, even if it meant protecting himself. But, if it did come to that, he would surely not hesitate to pull the trigger for as long as he took another life, his would not be in vain.
He turned the doorknob very slowly, and when it was turned all that it could be, he lightly pushed in on it and crouched low as it opened. Luckily, it did not creak for Hell's Outpost had only JUST been completed, and was still being checked by the engineers and construction workers who had, evidently, wound up in the very room where he was. As he looked in, he realized that he had found the room he was looking for. All around, were hostages, but they all faced the other direction.
It closed, and Snake quickly scurried beneath a table and peered on. Among the hostages, one was facing him. As Snake squinted harder, he realized that it was one of the delivery boys, his ski mask still fit snugly over his head. After having heard all that he had, he knew that something weird was up with the money. The government (or Patriots, rather) had denied ever having sent the money, and this fact made Snake very curious. The delivery boy had to know something, so he watched and moved into the center of the room and quickly came to the delivery boy who was tied against a concrete pillar. Snake crouched in front of him, and began.
"Wake up," he grunted and the man's eyes opened. Through the ski mask, Snake could tell that he had begun to smile. "You were one of the deliverers…what do you know? Who is it you're working for?" The man did not answer, but instead sat motionless. "Talk to me!" Snake kept quiet, but his voice had become strained and angry. Still, the man did not answer, but as Snake felt the floor of the room shudder, the man's eyes grew wider, and he jerked his head forward as if to warn him.
"A visitor." A young, but bold voice erupted from behind, and Snake quickly jumped up, raised his SOCOM, and sidestepped toward to door, then stopped. The man was somewhat bulky, but still nothing like Vulcan Raven had appeared. On his back were two large objects, their heads jutting outward and in sight of Snake. They appeared to be some sort of weapons, but without a closer look, he could not be sure. "What brings you here, visitor?" The man asked.
"You're Turret, right?" Snake questioned, and the man laughed a hearty, sly laugh, then narrowed his eyes on Snake.
"That is right. You look…vaguely familiar…Solid Snake is it? It seems that you have been expected here, tonight."
"What does that mean?" Snake slowly continued to move toward the door.
"Ah ah ah, stop right there," Turret's index finger was waving in the air, a grin spread across his face. "You're not leaving this room…alive. In fact, I can think of two ways for you to handle this situation. Either you run, and most likely spill your blood across this room, or you shoot at me and I kill this friend of yours." Turret held his right arm behind his back, and one of the giant objects that had been on his back, seemed to jump onto his arm. He caught it and aimed it at the delivery boy. Snake looked at it oddly.
"Fortune…" he said.
"Ah, yes. You know, I had this weapon specially-designed. It's nearly an exact replica of the late Fortune's gun, and this," he said as he held his left arm behind his back, pulling forth a long, heavy-looking chain gun, and "is a slightly shorter replica of the late Vulcan Raven's chain gun You see, I find myself at a paradox. On one hand, I have Fortune's weapon, which I could use to kill you, and on the other, I have Raven's. The decision is simply mind-boggling!" He paused for a moment, but then continued. "I do believe…I have reached a conclusion. I will use them both. Snake," he began, "fire!"