Chapter Eleven: A Living Miracle
Ocelot stepped out of the office, followed by Rogue who closed the door behind them. Desperado was standing against the wall a little way down the hall, and upon noticing them he walked over, a smile of satisfaction spread wide across his face.
"Mr. Ripper," Desperado started, "there is one last thing I would like to inform you of, regarding the Perfect Cell." Rogue looked up at him and smiled.
"Do call me Rogue from now on," he said and Desperado nodded.
"The Perfect Cell is basically non-disposable," Desperado said. "The energy that it holds cannot degrade or deteriorate no matter how many times it is used. There is only one exception for this."
"And that is?" Ocelot entered the conversation, the urge to not be an outsider driving him to interrupt.
"According to the notes I scavenged -- written by Socrates -- and the basic theory he had explained, when the Perfect Cell and the Hell Cell do indeed react, the two are consumed. Of course, this is remains only theory, but assuming that the structure for both the Hell Cell and the Perfect Cell are correct – by correct I mean, parallel to how Socrates believes them to be – then when they do indeed fuse, the outcome should be no more or less than a complete vaporization of all matter in the effected range."
"Tell me," Rogue started, "Where did you find all of this information? And how did you acquire the Perfect Cell?" Desperado seemed almost eager to answer anything and everything regarding the Cells, and without hesitation, he proceeded.
"As you can see, I am no scientist," Desperado snickered, "but I have always been somewhat overtaken by the theories Socrates introduced before his untimely death. A man I had worked with years back now has employment at a lab in New Hampshire. When he had first taken the job, he got in touch with me, knowing that I enjoyed Socrates' work, and told me of a project he was working on."
"Apparently, a small team, comprised of him and other colleagues at the institute, had taken an active role in trying to 'bring back' his work. So, they did research, managed to recover some very secret files, and built the Cell using theories, scribbles, and experiment notes written by Socrates himself. For a reasonable fee, I managed to get my hands on it. Until today, it has been no more than a decoration in my home…"
Rogue chuckled and then put out his hand for Desperado who shook it. "It has been good doing business with you," he said, and Desperado smiled. Rogue turned to Ocelot. "Would you like to escort your friend to the Spire? Or would you rather join me for the operation?" Ocelot looked at Desperado, disappointingly.
"It's all right," Desperado said, before Ocelot could open his mouth. "I can find my way. I will not leave before saying farewell, Shalashaska," he turned away from the two and started off down the hall, heading for the stairs. Ocelot looked up and smiled as Desperado went off, but his smile was somewhat awkward. It wasn't the one he put on when he watched death or heard death, but one of true admiration.
"Well," Rogue interrupted the moment, "we should be going. No doubt they are waiting for us to arrive."
"Yes," Ocelot replied, his mind wavering, "I should retrieve the body. I will meet you in the Operation Room in no more than three minutes."
"All right," Rogue said. Ocelot made a gesture of good-bye and then started down the hall for a small, cold room where the body was being held. "Ocelot," Rogue called, causing him to stop and turn back. "Why DON'T we just use one of the other hostages for the operation? Surely just one of them is expendable!" Ocelot grinned.
"This one, Rogue, is special." Rogue nodded in return as if he had heard Ocelot say that one time too many, and then went off on his way.
When he came to the operation room, he stopped outside the doors and took a large, deep breath before entering. When he did walk inside, his presence woke three men who were sitting around the fairly cramped room. They all wore long white overcoats and scrubs beneath them. Scattered about the room were medical tools and very advanced equipment. It was rather obvious that they were about to do the first test of the Perfect Cell.
"Sir!" they cried as he entered the room, the suitcase in his right hand making him feel warm and cozy in the light of the room. As soon as their eyes caught it, they began to feel light-headed and their legs became weak and feeble. "Do you…have the Cell?" One of them asked, and Rogue nodded before lifting the suitcase onto a cleared table on the ride side of the room.
"1…28…5…38," he said out loud as he punched in the key code. As the suitcase's many locks disengaged, the three men hurried to Rogue's side, their eyes open wide in anticipation. Then, he lifted the suitcase open and the glow of the Cell seemed so tempting and captivating. They gasped.
"Ocelot will be here with the specimen soon," Rogue said as he stepped away from the Cell, giving the men a closer look. At that, the door to their backs opened and in rolled a body beneath a thin, white sheet, and Ocelot who pushed the mobile bed along.
"You weren't waiting long, were you?" he asked, a wide grin stretched across his aging face. Rogue shook his head as Ocelot wheeled the body into the center of the room where there was still space. The three men turned, swiftly to address Ocelot as he entered.
"Sir!" they called and he waved them down.
"You know what to do, right?" Rogue asked, and the three men nodded.
"Leave it to us," one of them said, and Rogue started out of the room, stopping at the door for Ocelot to follow.
"Just one moment," Ocelot insisted, and Rogue nodded, then walked outside. The three men entitled with the responsibility of successfully using the Perfect Cell looked at him questioningly. Ocelot moved over to them, and whispered into the ear of the one who looked smartest and then, after making sure the man understood, he too exited the room, a sort of eerie look in his eyes.
"How exciting," Rogue said to Ocelot as he stepped into the hall.
"Yes," Ocelot said. He seemed somewhat jumpy himself. "Once this is done, we will finally be able to achieve our ultimate goal. Socrates…will be returned to life." Rogue nodded slowly, but in all reality, he had no true goal himself. He was there to help oversee the project, and to get rid of Jack.
"Start time is 1:13 A.M." one of the men said. They had all put on their surgical masks, and had all ready cut a small hole in the sheet covering the 'specimen.' Quietly, the three moved about the room, acquiring tools and snipping things beneath the sheet. Minutes of subtle work took place before one of them moved over to the table where the Perfect Cell lay in wait.
Slowly, one of them delicately lifted the octagonal cage from the suitcase and stepped over to the operating table with caution. Hands trembling, the man held the cage over the small hole in the sheet and with a quick squeeze on the flat top of the cage, the bottom disappeared into thin air and the Perfect Cell hovered downward, slowly.
Its movement was awkward, for it had not fallen like any normal object would, but descended, lightly. The three watched, not moving the cage from where they held it. Then, as it disappeared beneath the white sheet, a blast of gold illuminated beneath it, and the Perfect Cell shot up into the octagonal cage like a bat out of hell, and the bottom of the cage reappeared into thin air.
The three men were without words, but simply stood and watched. There was no movement for more than a minute, but in a swift thrust upward, the body jolted from beneath the sheet and reached to the right, grabbing hold of one of the men's arm. The 'specimen' jerked it to the side and a squeal of pain burst from his mouth.
Another blurred movement took place and in an instant the man to the right of the operation table was dead and as he fell, so did the octagonal cage. As it fell through the air, the 'specimen' jumped from the table, found a familiar 'something' strapped about his back and pulled a long, shining blade before him. Two quick strikes and all three men had fallen, their blood staining the white walls of the Operation Room.
Then, the cage hit the floor. At the same moment, in rushed Rogue, followed by Revolver Ocelot. And there, standing before them, was a living miracle…
Ocelot stepped out of the office, followed by Rogue who closed the door behind them. Desperado was standing against the wall a little way down the hall, and upon noticing them he walked over, a smile of satisfaction spread wide across his face.
"Mr. Ripper," Desperado started, "there is one last thing I would like to inform you of, regarding the Perfect Cell." Rogue looked up at him and smiled.
"Do call me Rogue from now on," he said and Desperado nodded.
"The Perfect Cell is basically non-disposable," Desperado said. "The energy that it holds cannot degrade or deteriorate no matter how many times it is used. There is only one exception for this."
"And that is?" Ocelot entered the conversation, the urge to not be an outsider driving him to interrupt.
"According to the notes I scavenged -- written by Socrates -- and the basic theory he had explained, when the Perfect Cell and the Hell Cell do indeed react, the two are consumed. Of course, this is remains only theory, but assuming that the structure for both the Hell Cell and the Perfect Cell are correct – by correct I mean, parallel to how Socrates believes them to be – then when they do indeed fuse, the outcome should be no more or less than a complete vaporization of all matter in the effected range."
"Tell me," Rogue started, "Where did you find all of this information? And how did you acquire the Perfect Cell?" Desperado seemed almost eager to answer anything and everything regarding the Cells, and without hesitation, he proceeded.
"As you can see, I am no scientist," Desperado snickered, "but I have always been somewhat overtaken by the theories Socrates introduced before his untimely death. A man I had worked with years back now has employment at a lab in New Hampshire. When he had first taken the job, he got in touch with me, knowing that I enjoyed Socrates' work, and told me of a project he was working on."
"Apparently, a small team, comprised of him and other colleagues at the institute, had taken an active role in trying to 'bring back' his work. So, they did research, managed to recover some very secret files, and built the Cell using theories, scribbles, and experiment notes written by Socrates himself. For a reasonable fee, I managed to get my hands on it. Until today, it has been no more than a decoration in my home…"
Rogue chuckled and then put out his hand for Desperado who shook it. "It has been good doing business with you," he said, and Desperado smiled. Rogue turned to Ocelot. "Would you like to escort your friend to the Spire? Or would you rather join me for the operation?" Ocelot looked at Desperado, disappointingly.
"It's all right," Desperado said, before Ocelot could open his mouth. "I can find my way. I will not leave before saying farewell, Shalashaska," he turned away from the two and started off down the hall, heading for the stairs. Ocelot looked up and smiled as Desperado went off, but his smile was somewhat awkward. It wasn't the one he put on when he watched death or heard death, but one of true admiration.
"Well," Rogue interrupted the moment, "we should be going. No doubt they are waiting for us to arrive."
"Yes," Ocelot replied, his mind wavering, "I should retrieve the body. I will meet you in the Operation Room in no more than three minutes."
"All right," Rogue said. Ocelot made a gesture of good-bye and then started down the hall for a small, cold room where the body was being held. "Ocelot," Rogue called, causing him to stop and turn back. "Why DON'T we just use one of the other hostages for the operation? Surely just one of them is expendable!" Ocelot grinned.
"This one, Rogue, is special." Rogue nodded in return as if he had heard Ocelot say that one time too many, and then went off on his way.
When he came to the operation room, he stopped outside the doors and took a large, deep breath before entering. When he did walk inside, his presence woke three men who were sitting around the fairly cramped room. They all wore long white overcoats and scrubs beneath them. Scattered about the room were medical tools and very advanced equipment. It was rather obvious that they were about to do the first test of the Perfect Cell.
"Sir!" they cried as he entered the room, the suitcase in his right hand making him feel warm and cozy in the light of the room. As soon as their eyes caught it, they began to feel light-headed and their legs became weak and feeble. "Do you…have the Cell?" One of them asked, and Rogue nodded before lifting the suitcase onto a cleared table on the ride side of the room.
"1…28…5…38," he said out loud as he punched in the key code. As the suitcase's many locks disengaged, the three men hurried to Rogue's side, their eyes open wide in anticipation. Then, he lifted the suitcase open and the glow of the Cell seemed so tempting and captivating. They gasped.
"Ocelot will be here with the specimen soon," Rogue said as he stepped away from the Cell, giving the men a closer look. At that, the door to their backs opened and in rolled a body beneath a thin, white sheet, and Ocelot who pushed the mobile bed along.
"You weren't waiting long, were you?" he asked, a wide grin stretched across his aging face. Rogue shook his head as Ocelot wheeled the body into the center of the room where there was still space. The three men turned, swiftly to address Ocelot as he entered.
"Sir!" they called and he waved them down.
"You know what to do, right?" Rogue asked, and the three men nodded.
"Leave it to us," one of them said, and Rogue started out of the room, stopping at the door for Ocelot to follow.
"Just one moment," Ocelot insisted, and Rogue nodded, then walked outside. The three men entitled with the responsibility of successfully using the Perfect Cell looked at him questioningly. Ocelot moved over to them, and whispered into the ear of the one who looked smartest and then, after making sure the man understood, he too exited the room, a sort of eerie look in his eyes.
"How exciting," Rogue said to Ocelot as he stepped into the hall.
"Yes," Ocelot said. He seemed somewhat jumpy himself. "Once this is done, we will finally be able to achieve our ultimate goal. Socrates…will be returned to life." Rogue nodded slowly, but in all reality, he had no true goal himself. He was there to help oversee the project, and to get rid of Jack.
"Start time is 1:13 A.M." one of the men said. They had all put on their surgical masks, and had all ready cut a small hole in the sheet covering the 'specimen.' Quietly, the three moved about the room, acquiring tools and snipping things beneath the sheet. Minutes of subtle work took place before one of them moved over to the table where the Perfect Cell lay in wait.
Slowly, one of them delicately lifted the octagonal cage from the suitcase and stepped over to the operating table with caution. Hands trembling, the man held the cage over the small hole in the sheet and with a quick squeeze on the flat top of the cage, the bottom disappeared into thin air and the Perfect Cell hovered downward, slowly.
Its movement was awkward, for it had not fallen like any normal object would, but descended, lightly. The three watched, not moving the cage from where they held it. Then, as it disappeared beneath the white sheet, a blast of gold illuminated beneath it, and the Perfect Cell shot up into the octagonal cage like a bat out of hell, and the bottom of the cage reappeared into thin air.
The three men were without words, but simply stood and watched. There was no movement for more than a minute, but in a swift thrust upward, the body jolted from beneath the sheet and reached to the right, grabbing hold of one of the men's arm. The 'specimen' jerked it to the side and a squeal of pain burst from his mouth.
Another blurred movement took place and in an instant the man to the right of the operation table was dead and as he fell, so did the octagonal cage. As it fell through the air, the 'specimen' jumped from the table, found a familiar 'something' strapped about his back and pulled a long, shining blade before him. Two quick strikes and all three men had fallen, their blood staining the white walls of the Operation Room.
Then, the cage hit the floor. At the same moment, in rushed Rogue, followed by Revolver Ocelot. And there, standing before them, was a living miracle…