Chapter Fourteen: A Gun Never Lies
The two were completely alone in the darkness of the fourth floor, the only light they had being the glow of the Comm and the fiery ends of their cigarettes. Turret had been laid to rest, and they were all that was left in those empty, dark hallways. They were the only ones left.
Snake lifted the Comm off of where it sat, on his knee, and looked over the data, trying to make some sense of the buttons and controls that were drawn beneath the plastic screen. "You wanna try?" he asked, holding it out for Jack, who cocked his head to the side and then grasped it in his hand. He looked over it for seconds, which became minutes, and for quite a while, the two sat there, not shifting the slightest bit.
"Just try a few," Snake suggested, and Jack sighed. Beeps and burs emanated from the small device as Jack continued to randomly click his finger down on the screen, activating many different things that he could not even think to fathom. After pressing every button on the screen, he set it down.
"Nothin," he said. The news disappointed neither of them, for the darkness seemed to sooth them, and it was true that neither of them would ever wish to see those blinding overhead lights shining down on them like spotlights sitting only inches away. And so, they sat. And they waited.
"So…" Snake began, searching for conversation. "Anything new?" He asked, his attempt vainly pathetic. They had sat beside each other for more than a half an hour, and obviously nothing had changed. The lights were off. Turret was dead. And they were alone. NOTHING had changed.
Jack looked over at him and snickered, then pulled the cigarette from between his lips and scratched its end on the floor beside him, making sure that the light was out and the heat had subdued. Two lights remained on.
At this point, Snake too had grown tired of the same cigarette and it had failed to continue burning, for it was no more than a stump of paper and nicotine in his mouth. He desired another, but did not pursue. He set his cigarette on the floor, and as he stood, he dropped his foot on it, putting out any flame that was left. One light remained.
"What do we do now?" Jack asked, still sitting against the wall, his head falling between his legs in boredom. Snake peered where he thought the halls went and then closed his eyes. "Snake?" Snake drew his index finger and held it up to hush Jack as they both waited in 'nearly' silence. Something was nearing their position. Something loud, and it was not inside, but instead…
At that, Snake's Codec began to ring loudly in his ear, for the normal absence of sound had somewhat spoiled him. He did not move from where he stood, but touched his index finger to his ear and waited. A welcome voice filled his mind. "Snake?" It was Otacon.
"Yea? What is it?" Snake asked, his feet beginning to move under him, taking him in the direction of the glass windows that he only sensed were ahead of him.
"Do you see me?" Otacon asked. Snake stopped oddly in the hall, analyzing what he had heard him say.
"You're coming in a chopper?" He understood. The noise began to amplify, but only slightly before it pulled away into the distance again. Snake waited for a reply, listening to the other things in the background.
"Yes, you hear us then?"
"Yea," Snake answered. The conversation was stale and short-lived, both of them ceased to talk as the sounds from Otacon's end became increasingly jumbled.
"Can you get on the roof?" Otacon asked, cutting through the heavy silence that lingered over them. Snake continued forward again.
"You're gonna land that thing? Here?!" Snake did not approve of the idea. Not one bit, but it seemed obvious that there were no other places to land. The terrain was too rocky, too random for them to find a reasonable landing spot besides a proper helipad.
"Can you get to the roof, Snake?" Otacon asked again, his voice almost demanding this time.
"I don't know. The lights are out over here, and I didn't notice any way to get up there earlier," Snake answered, hearing a disappointed sigh come from Otacon.
"There's an elevator shaft on the third floor," he began. "High-level security…you can't get in that way…what floor ARE you on?"
"Fourth. We should be right under it," Snake answered, bumping into the glass wall. He rubbed his face only momentarily before straining his eyes to look beyond the glossy plate.
"There should be a ventilation system in the ceiling…hold on," he requested and Snake waited where he stood. He tried to squint…to see out, but there was nothing but a vast sea of black laid out before him. Whatever he did, he found himself trapped there. He turned to Jack.
"Try the elevator," he said. Jack quickly retreated to where he remember the elevator being, and stepped to the right of the doors, moving his hands over the wall, trying to find the button to engage in movement. He felt it, but when he pushed on it, nothing moved. Then, a sound began to boom around them as emergency lights flashed on above.
"SECURITY BREACH ON LEVEL FOUR," a loud voice said. It came over some sort of intercom, but when it sounded, Snake jerked back to Jack, holding out his arms in confusion.
"How the hell?!" (You can guess who said that.)
Jack looked back at him with a similar look of obscurity, his face screwed up. "Must've been Turret…maybe he set the whole floor on emergency lockdown!" Jack yelled to Snake, trying to fight the repetitive cries of the intercom and the deafening ring of the bell. Otacon came back to the conversation.
"Did you set off an alarm?!" he yelled.
"Sorry," Snake replied, hurrying over to Jack, provided he could now see with the flashing of the emergency lights.
"Damn…okay, Snake, listen. There's an access panel to the ventilation system somewhere in the hallway by the elevator." Otacon waited for Snake to respond in some way.
"Hold on, Otacon," Snake returned as he began to scan the ceiling with his eyes. There, not far ahead of him, was the access panel. He touched his ear. "Found it," he responded.
"Good. Now, you're going to have to get up there."
"How do I do that?" Snake asked.
"You figure out the procedure. I just know the route," Otacon answered, making Snake rather frustrated. "Once you're in the vents, you need to make your way to the right, and then, left at the next intersection. Eventually, you'll see a vent cover above you, through which the purified air is released and recycled into the environment. Push the vent cover aside and you're on the roof. Got it?" Snake took a moment before he was sure that he understood the procedure.
"Got it," he finally answered, and Otacon smiled on the other end.
"We wont be able to hover out here for long, and Philosophy might get suspicious of whatever sounds we're making. You need to hurry. As soon as you move aside the vent cover up to the helipad, contact me."
Snake nodded.
"Yea…see ya soon," Snake said, and the conversation ended. The platform of the elevator began to descend to the lower levels and when Snake turned back to Jack, questions arose.
"Who was that?" Jack asked as Snake passed him, his eyes set on the access panel ahead.
"Otacon. We have to be on the roof for him, fast," Snake answered as he stopped below the panel, sorting through his mind in pursuit of a way to get up and into the vents.
"Is anyone with him?" Jack asked, and Snake randomly answered.
"Farrel," he said. Jack almost fell backward, but managed to keep steady, his mouth hung open.
"Farrel?! You know about him?! What's he doing here?!" Jack cried. Snake immediately stopped, and slowly turned to him, his face stern and his mind racing.
"What? Who is he?" Snake asked, an obvious fear for Otacon lurching in his stomach. Jack's mouth opened, but no words came out. Then, he hurried up to Snake upon noticing the access panel and he quickly changed the subject.
"We need to get to the roof, let's hurry," he said. Snake grabbed him by the arm and stared into his face. Jack wanted to look away, but Snake wouldn't let him.
"Is Otacon in danger?" he asked.
Jack's eyes suddenly shot right back at Snake. "No, no! Let's just get on the roof. We need to hurry." The moment was tense, and as the two stood there, Jack trying to formulate a plan of action, and Snake trying to figure out what was going on that he didn't know about, the elevator behind them beeped. Both of them looked to it, and when the metal-bared doors slid aside, their hearts stopped.
Out stepped seven soldiers, dressed in the same odd camouflage as all the others, carrying with them similar AK7u's. Two of them were equipped with M4A1's and another with a small UMP 450. Heavily armed, the seven pivoted to their left and quickly raised their guns upon taking sight of Jack and Snake who both dodged around the corner before a single bullet left a single gun.
Hitting the floor roughly, the two scurried onto their feet and darted down another hall, trying to formulate a new plan of action as they went. Somehow, with seven soldiers behind them, a ceiling above them, and a maze of halls to move through, halls that they have never been in, and halls that the soldiers following them had most likely memorized, they had to reach the roof and safely escort Otacon and Farrel back into the building, or anywhere for that matter.
The soldiers could be heard spreading about the halls and rooms of the fourth floor, their calls and orders being shouted back and forth as they closed in. Snake and Jack could do nothing but continue on their way, turning another corner only to hear the shattering glass erupt behind them. The enemy was closing in.
Jack felt along the holster straps bound vertically about his chest. He had a SOCOM, a Single Action Hammerli 280, and strung over his back was a dirtied FAMAS that appeared badly damaged (no doubt wrestled away from one of the tattered soldiers positioned at Hell's Outpost under the command of Rogue and Ocelot). Quickly, without halting, Jack managed to pull from his holster, the SOCOM he was equipped with, and as they ran, tossed it ahead of Snake. Two soldiers came around the corner behind them, and as they readied their weapons, and aimed at the two, Jack threw his FAMAS around his body and caught hold of it when it bounced from his chest. As he turned, Snake caught the SOCOM in one hand, and twirled around as the enemy soldiers fired.
A torrent of speeding iron flew past Snake's shoulder, and before he had time to balance himself or compose himself, he was pulling the trigger of his SOCOM furiously, firing bullet after bullet of death at the enemies ahead. Jack, too, was taking no time to look good. His finger tightened down on the trigger of his FAMAS, and as he moved to the side, he saw both guards grab at their chests as rivers of blood trickled from them, staining their camouflage. They fell forward, their bodies sprawled out and their guns toppling aside. They had died, and behind them was a shattered wall, the biting cold air blowing in through it.
Snake hit the wall and pushed back off to regain his steadiness. The shattered wall ahead of them was like an omen, a sign of hope, and a passage to where they were headed. The surface of the roof was only five feet above the ceiling of the fourth floor, and if they could get outside, maybe they could make their way up the side of the building. It was only five feet…not too far, but in contrast, the fall to earth was much larger in comparison.
"We'll go up the side," Snake said, lost in thought. Jack looked at him, following his eyes to the broken glass of the wall before them. Then, he looked back at Snake and nodded, showing his support. "We need a wire…or rope. Something."
There was a clatter at the other end of the hall and Jack turned in an instant, firing off another magazine of his FAMAS, and taking down another soldier. He let the empty magazine fall, and from a belt of ammo, hung loosely about his waist, he took another and reloaded. Snake turned to him.
"The cable," Snake said. "The cable that puppet used to tie you up. We can use that."
"First we have to get back there," Jack commented, his tone rather pessimistic. Snake held his SOCOM up by his face and grinned at Jack who fiddled with his FAMAS before doing something of the same thing. They were going to fight every last one of the soldiers on the fourth floor, until all were dead or out of their way. They had taken down three, leaving only four, and they were all between them and the ripped and mangled cable that was still strung somewhere near the elevator shaft.
They nodded to each other and hurried off, heading down the hall opposite the way they had come, seeing as it seemed closer than going back around. Their weapons held high, and their faces stern, they trudged through the halls, the lights no longer flashing but solid and unchanging.
Without notice, from a room two doors behind, two soldiers burst, their guns anxious and their hearts raging. At the sound of the door busting open, Snake swiftly turned 'round and fired only twice, bringing both of them to the floor, blood seeping from their bodies. Jack went along, not phased, and if anything, more determined than before.
The last onslaught left only two more soldiers, but in all the time that Jack and Snake walked to where the cable remained, dangling from the ceiling and slumping from the walls, they did not see them. They stopped at the mess of cables to find the right piece; one with good length, but one that was not hindered by weakness, or was too thin. They had to find the right piece or they would not make it to the roof, but would instead find their way to the ground many feet below.
Immeasurable minutes passed, all well spent in attempts of finding the best and most suited length of cable for the specific use. In time, they did indeed find one. It was fifteen feet long, had a few kinks (all generally subtle), and was just a little weak on one end, but as long as they did not throw it the wrong way, they would be fine. Now, all that was left was something that could act as a pick, or a claw to latch on to the lip of concrete around the perimeter of the rooftop. As they continued back to the shattered window, they brainstormed, bouncing ideas off each other, but without luck. They needed climbing tools, not office tools.
"A gun," Snake said, stopping. His arms were crossed in thought, and Jack looked back at him, this time knowing exactly what he had meant. "We'll use one as a claw…that FAMAS of yours…that might work." Jack held up his FAMAS and looked at it, sighing as he did.
"What if it doesn't work? What if it falls off the cable?" Jack asked, almost nervously.
"Then it falls off the cable," Snake replied, snatching the FAMAS up in his arms and tying the cable that dragged behind him, into a type of noose that fit through the trigger space in the gun. Then, he slipped out the equipped magazine and handed it to Jack. "We don't want it to go off as we're climbing," he said, and Jack nodded hesitantly.
The two made their way to where the glass lay scattered about the floor of the room, and Snake peered upward, trying to calculate how high and how hard he should throw the cable. "Now this," he said as he thought, "is a test of wits. Hide and Seek is a kid's game." Jack snickered at his comment and then, Snake grabbed the FAMAS in his right hand and with all of his might, tossed it upward. He waited, and then it fell back down. When he tugged on the cable to keep it all from falling downward, he stumbled a little, almost falling from the safety of the building. He looked at Jack for a moment, and seeing his smile about to break into a fit of laughter, he tried again, determined to show that his innovative mind would pull through for them.
Once again, the FAMAS and the cable dropped back down. So, he threw it again. This time, it scraped the side of the building, cutting into the glass wall to make a high-pitched screech. Jack was almost on the floor, but Snake didn't see why he found it so funny. So, he tossed it again, this time throwing it in toward the building just slightly more than before. "Clank!" he heard, as, unlike before, neither the cable nor the FAMAS fell back down. He tugged on it slightly, and when nothing budged, keeping his hand on it, he turned to Jack who was doubled over with laughter.
Slowly, Jack's head rose and his face turned unusually serious, a slight bit of red overtaking his cheeks. Snake grunted and tugged on the cable again. "Seems stable. I'll go up first," he said, but Jack didn't answer. Then, Snake gripped the cable in two hands and jumped on, crossing his legs about it, and began to work his way upward (NOTE: They are on the side of Hell's Outpost opposite the Spire. Just for your information).
"Don't move!" Jack heard, but only slightly. Snake was all ready too far up the cable to hear the cry, but Jack turned slowly, to face two soldiers, their guns held high. "I said don't move!" one of them yelled again, more clearly, as to avoid having to shoot. The message Rogue had sent was to no stop until all radicals were KILLED (emphasis on the word "killed"), but it was relatively obvious that the two did not wish to fire their weapons.
"You gonna shoot?" Jack asked, realizing their weakness. Neither of them wavered, and neither of them answered. They just continued to look at him, their guns aimed at his head. "If I move out of the way…will you shoot me?"
"Shuddap!" one of them yelled, afraid that if Jack tempted him enough, he might actually pull the trigger. The other simply watched, his finger ready, but unwilling.
"That's right…you're all from disbanded militaries. You're…radicals too, aren't you?" Jack questioned, trying to get them to do something other than stare blankly at him. Their hands moved nervously, caressing their guns. They began to shake. The noise that they made was obvious to Jack, and he did not wish to fight them any more than they did.
Two shots rang out, but they were not of the enemies' weapons. They came from Jack's Hammerli 280, it's shot ringing out, and alarming Snake who had almost reached the roof. One of the men dropped onto his knees, letting his gun fall out of his hands, but the other had been hit in the left shoulder, not necessarily his stronger side. His gun, on the other hand, did not drop to the ground, but remained tightly wedged in his palms.
The UMP 450 that was gripped in his hands, shined with a glimmering magnificence unlike any Jack had ever seen. It looked so well kept that it almost seemed as if it had never been fired, had never bloodied a wall, or a floor, or a window. A gun never lies. They stick true. If a gun is bloody, it's been through hell, but if it's clean, it's been through absolutely nothing. Snake hung on the edge of the cement lip, waiting for some sort of sign to continue or go back, and Jack was being stared down by an innocent man with the power to take any life with the pull of a trigger…
The two were completely alone in the darkness of the fourth floor, the only light they had being the glow of the Comm and the fiery ends of their cigarettes. Turret had been laid to rest, and they were all that was left in those empty, dark hallways. They were the only ones left.
Snake lifted the Comm off of where it sat, on his knee, and looked over the data, trying to make some sense of the buttons and controls that were drawn beneath the plastic screen. "You wanna try?" he asked, holding it out for Jack, who cocked his head to the side and then grasped it in his hand. He looked over it for seconds, which became minutes, and for quite a while, the two sat there, not shifting the slightest bit.
"Just try a few," Snake suggested, and Jack sighed. Beeps and burs emanated from the small device as Jack continued to randomly click his finger down on the screen, activating many different things that he could not even think to fathom. After pressing every button on the screen, he set it down.
"Nothin," he said. The news disappointed neither of them, for the darkness seemed to sooth them, and it was true that neither of them would ever wish to see those blinding overhead lights shining down on them like spotlights sitting only inches away. And so, they sat. And they waited.
"So…" Snake began, searching for conversation. "Anything new?" He asked, his attempt vainly pathetic. They had sat beside each other for more than a half an hour, and obviously nothing had changed. The lights were off. Turret was dead. And they were alone. NOTHING had changed.
Jack looked over at him and snickered, then pulled the cigarette from between his lips and scratched its end on the floor beside him, making sure that the light was out and the heat had subdued. Two lights remained on.
At this point, Snake too had grown tired of the same cigarette and it had failed to continue burning, for it was no more than a stump of paper and nicotine in his mouth. He desired another, but did not pursue. He set his cigarette on the floor, and as he stood, he dropped his foot on it, putting out any flame that was left. One light remained.
"What do we do now?" Jack asked, still sitting against the wall, his head falling between his legs in boredom. Snake peered where he thought the halls went and then closed his eyes. "Snake?" Snake drew his index finger and held it up to hush Jack as they both waited in 'nearly' silence. Something was nearing their position. Something loud, and it was not inside, but instead…
At that, Snake's Codec began to ring loudly in his ear, for the normal absence of sound had somewhat spoiled him. He did not move from where he stood, but touched his index finger to his ear and waited. A welcome voice filled his mind. "Snake?" It was Otacon.
"Yea? What is it?" Snake asked, his feet beginning to move under him, taking him in the direction of the glass windows that he only sensed were ahead of him.
"Do you see me?" Otacon asked. Snake stopped oddly in the hall, analyzing what he had heard him say.
"You're coming in a chopper?" He understood. The noise began to amplify, but only slightly before it pulled away into the distance again. Snake waited for a reply, listening to the other things in the background.
"Yes, you hear us then?"
"Yea," Snake answered. The conversation was stale and short-lived, both of them ceased to talk as the sounds from Otacon's end became increasingly jumbled.
"Can you get on the roof?" Otacon asked, cutting through the heavy silence that lingered over them. Snake continued forward again.
"You're gonna land that thing? Here?!" Snake did not approve of the idea. Not one bit, but it seemed obvious that there were no other places to land. The terrain was too rocky, too random for them to find a reasonable landing spot besides a proper helipad.
"Can you get to the roof, Snake?" Otacon asked again, his voice almost demanding this time.
"I don't know. The lights are out over here, and I didn't notice any way to get up there earlier," Snake answered, hearing a disappointed sigh come from Otacon.
"There's an elevator shaft on the third floor," he began. "High-level security…you can't get in that way…what floor ARE you on?"
"Fourth. We should be right under it," Snake answered, bumping into the glass wall. He rubbed his face only momentarily before straining his eyes to look beyond the glossy plate.
"There should be a ventilation system in the ceiling…hold on," he requested and Snake waited where he stood. He tried to squint…to see out, but there was nothing but a vast sea of black laid out before him. Whatever he did, he found himself trapped there. He turned to Jack.
"Try the elevator," he said. Jack quickly retreated to where he remember the elevator being, and stepped to the right of the doors, moving his hands over the wall, trying to find the button to engage in movement. He felt it, but when he pushed on it, nothing moved. Then, a sound began to boom around them as emergency lights flashed on above.
"SECURITY BREACH ON LEVEL FOUR," a loud voice said. It came over some sort of intercom, but when it sounded, Snake jerked back to Jack, holding out his arms in confusion.
"How the hell?!" (You can guess who said that.)
Jack looked back at him with a similar look of obscurity, his face screwed up. "Must've been Turret…maybe he set the whole floor on emergency lockdown!" Jack yelled to Snake, trying to fight the repetitive cries of the intercom and the deafening ring of the bell. Otacon came back to the conversation.
"Did you set off an alarm?!" he yelled.
"Sorry," Snake replied, hurrying over to Jack, provided he could now see with the flashing of the emergency lights.
"Damn…okay, Snake, listen. There's an access panel to the ventilation system somewhere in the hallway by the elevator." Otacon waited for Snake to respond in some way.
"Hold on, Otacon," Snake returned as he began to scan the ceiling with his eyes. There, not far ahead of him, was the access panel. He touched his ear. "Found it," he responded.
"Good. Now, you're going to have to get up there."
"How do I do that?" Snake asked.
"You figure out the procedure. I just know the route," Otacon answered, making Snake rather frustrated. "Once you're in the vents, you need to make your way to the right, and then, left at the next intersection. Eventually, you'll see a vent cover above you, through which the purified air is released and recycled into the environment. Push the vent cover aside and you're on the roof. Got it?" Snake took a moment before he was sure that he understood the procedure.
"Got it," he finally answered, and Otacon smiled on the other end.
"We wont be able to hover out here for long, and Philosophy might get suspicious of whatever sounds we're making. You need to hurry. As soon as you move aside the vent cover up to the helipad, contact me."
Snake nodded.
"Yea…see ya soon," Snake said, and the conversation ended. The platform of the elevator began to descend to the lower levels and when Snake turned back to Jack, questions arose.
"Who was that?" Jack asked as Snake passed him, his eyes set on the access panel ahead.
"Otacon. We have to be on the roof for him, fast," Snake answered as he stopped below the panel, sorting through his mind in pursuit of a way to get up and into the vents.
"Is anyone with him?" Jack asked, and Snake randomly answered.
"Farrel," he said. Jack almost fell backward, but managed to keep steady, his mouth hung open.
"Farrel?! You know about him?! What's he doing here?!" Jack cried. Snake immediately stopped, and slowly turned to him, his face stern and his mind racing.
"What? Who is he?" Snake asked, an obvious fear for Otacon lurching in his stomach. Jack's mouth opened, but no words came out. Then, he hurried up to Snake upon noticing the access panel and he quickly changed the subject.
"We need to get to the roof, let's hurry," he said. Snake grabbed him by the arm and stared into his face. Jack wanted to look away, but Snake wouldn't let him.
"Is Otacon in danger?" he asked.
Jack's eyes suddenly shot right back at Snake. "No, no! Let's just get on the roof. We need to hurry." The moment was tense, and as the two stood there, Jack trying to formulate a plan of action, and Snake trying to figure out what was going on that he didn't know about, the elevator behind them beeped. Both of them looked to it, and when the metal-bared doors slid aside, their hearts stopped.
Out stepped seven soldiers, dressed in the same odd camouflage as all the others, carrying with them similar AK7u's. Two of them were equipped with M4A1's and another with a small UMP 450. Heavily armed, the seven pivoted to their left and quickly raised their guns upon taking sight of Jack and Snake who both dodged around the corner before a single bullet left a single gun.
Hitting the floor roughly, the two scurried onto their feet and darted down another hall, trying to formulate a new plan of action as they went. Somehow, with seven soldiers behind them, a ceiling above them, and a maze of halls to move through, halls that they have never been in, and halls that the soldiers following them had most likely memorized, they had to reach the roof and safely escort Otacon and Farrel back into the building, or anywhere for that matter.
The soldiers could be heard spreading about the halls and rooms of the fourth floor, their calls and orders being shouted back and forth as they closed in. Snake and Jack could do nothing but continue on their way, turning another corner only to hear the shattering glass erupt behind them. The enemy was closing in.
Jack felt along the holster straps bound vertically about his chest. He had a SOCOM, a Single Action Hammerli 280, and strung over his back was a dirtied FAMAS that appeared badly damaged (no doubt wrestled away from one of the tattered soldiers positioned at Hell's Outpost under the command of Rogue and Ocelot). Quickly, without halting, Jack managed to pull from his holster, the SOCOM he was equipped with, and as they ran, tossed it ahead of Snake. Two soldiers came around the corner behind them, and as they readied their weapons, and aimed at the two, Jack threw his FAMAS around his body and caught hold of it when it bounced from his chest. As he turned, Snake caught the SOCOM in one hand, and twirled around as the enemy soldiers fired.
A torrent of speeding iron flew past Snake's shoulder, and before he had time to balance himself or compose himself, he was pulling the trigger of his SOCOM furiously, firing bullet after bullet of death at the enemies ahead. Jack, too, was taking no time to look good. His finger tightened down on the trigger of his FAMAS, and as he moved to the side, he saw both guards grab at their chests as rivers of blood trickled from them, staining their camouflage. They fell forward, their bodies sprawled out and their guns toppling aside. They had died, and behind them was a shattered wall, the biting cold air blowing in through it.
Snake hit the wall and pushed back off to regain his steadiness. The shattered wall ahead of them was like an omen, a sign of hope, and a passage to where they were headed. The surface of the roof was only five feet above the ceiling of the fourth floor, and if they could get outside, maybe they could make their way up the side of the building. It was only five feet…not too far, but in contrast, the fall to earth was much larger in comparison.
"We'll go up the side," Snake said, lost in thought. Jack looked at him, following his eyes to the broken glass of the wall before them. Then, he looked back at Snake and nodded, showing his support. "We need a wire…or rope. Something."
There was a clatter at the other end of the hall and Jack turned in an instant, firing off another magazine of his FAMAS, and taking down another soldier. He let the empty magazine fall, and from a belt of ammo, hung loosely about his waist, he took another and reloaded. Snake turned to him.
"The cable," Snake said. "The cable that puppet used to tie you up. We can use that."
"First we have to get back there," Jack commented, his tone rather pessimistic. Snake held his SOCOM up by his face and grinned at Jack who fiddled with his FAMAS before doing something of the same thing. They were going to fight every last one of the soldiers on the fourth floor, until all were dead or out of their way. They had taken down three, leaving only four, and they were all between them and the ripped and mangled cable that was still strung somewhere near the elevator shaft.
They nodded to each other and hurried off, heading down the hall opposite the way they had come, seeing as it seemed closer than going back around. Their weapons held high, and their faces stern, they trudged through the halls, the lights no longer flashing but solid and unchanging.
Without notice, from a room two doors behind, two soldiers burst, their guns anxious and their hearts raging. At the sound of the door busting open, Snake swiftly turned 'round and fired only twice, bringing both of them to the floor, blood seeping from their bodies. Jack went along, not phased, and if anything, more determined than before.
The last onslaught left only two more soldiers, but in all the time that Jack and Snake walked to where the cable remained, dangling from the ceiling and slumping from the walls, they did not see them. They stopped at the mess of cables to find the right piece; one with good length, but one that was not hindered by weakness, or was too thin. They had to find the right piece or they would not make it to the roof, but would instead find their way to the ground many feet below.
Immeasurable minutes passed, all well spent in attempts of finding the best and most suited length of cable for the specific use. In time, they did indeed find one. It was fifteen feet long, had a few kinks (all generally subtle), and was just a little weak on one end, but as long as they did not throw it the wrong way, they would be fine. Now, all that was left was something that could act as a pick, or a claw to latch on to the lip of concrete around the perimeter of the rooftop. As they continued back to the shattered window, they brainstormed, bouncing ideas off each other, but without luck. They needed climbing tools, not office tools.
"A gun," Snake said, stopping. His arms were crossed in thought, and Jack looked back at him, this time knowing exactly what he had meant. "We'll use one as a claw…that FAMAS of yours…that might work." Jack held up his FAMAS and looked at it, sighing as he did.
"What if it doesn't work? What if it falls off the cable?" Jack asked, almost nervously.
"Then it falls off the cable," Snake replied, snatching the FAMAS up in his arms and tying the cable that dragged behind him, into a type of noose that fit through the trigger space in the gun. Then, he slipped out the equipped magazine and handed it to Jack. "We don't want it to go off as we're climbing," he said, and Jack nodded hesitantly.
The two made their way to where the glass lay scattered about the floor of the room, and Snake peered upward, trying to calculate how high and how hard he should throw the cable. "Now this," he said as he thought, "is a test of wits. Hide and Seek is a kid's game." Jack snickered at his comment and then, Snake grabbed the FAMAS in his right hand and with all of his might, tossed it upward. He waited, and then it fell back down. When he tugged on the cable to keep it all from falling downward, he stumbled a little, almost falling from the safety of the building. He looked at Jack for a moment, and seeing his smile about to break into a fit of laughter, he tried again, determined to show that his innovative mind would pull through for them.
Once again, the FAMAS and the cable dropped back down. So, he threw it again. This time, it scraped the side of the building, cutting into the glass wall to make a high-pitched screech. Jack was almost on the floor, but Snake didn't see why he found it so funny. So, he tossed it again, this time throwing it in toward the building just slightly more than before. "Clank!" he heard, as, unlike before, neither the cable nor the FAMAS fell back down. He tugged on it slightly, and when nothing budged, keeping his hand on it, he turned to Jack who was doubled over with laughter.
Slowly, Jack's head rose and his face turned unusually serious, a slight bit of red overtaking his cheeks. Snake grunted and tugged on the cable again. "Seems stable. I'll go up first," he said, but Jack didn't answer. Then, Snake gripped the cable in two hands and jumped on, crossing his legs about it, and began to work his way upward (NOTE: They are on the side of Hell's Outpost opposite the Spire. Just for your information).
"Don't move!" Jack heard, but only slightly. Snake was all ready too far up the cable to hear the cry, but Jack turned slowly, to face two soldiers, their guns held high. "I said don't move!" one of them yelled again, more clearly, as to avoid having to shoot. The message Rogue had sent was to no stop until all radicals were KILLED (emphasis on the word "killed"), but it was relatively obvious that the two did not wish to fire their weapons.
"You gonna shoot?" Jack asked, realizing their weakness. Neither of them wavered, and neither of them answered. They just continued to look at him, their guns aimed at his head. "If I move out of the way…will you shoot me?"
"Shuddap!" one of them yelled, afraid that if Jack tempted him enough, he might actually pull the trigger. The other simply watched, his finger ready, but unwilling.
"That's right…you're all from disbanded militaries. You're…radicals too, aren't you?" Jack questioned, trying to get them to do something other than stare blankly at him. Their hands moved nervously, caressing their guns. They began to shake. The noise that they made was obvious to Jack, and he did not wish to fight them any more than they did.
Two shots rang out, but they were not of the enemies' weapons. They came from Jack's Hammerli 280, it's shot ringing out, and alarming Snake who had almost reached the roof. One of the men dropped onto his knees, letting his gun fall out of his hands, but the other had been hit in the left shoulder, not necessarily his stronger side. His gun, on the other hand, did not drop to the ground, but remained tightly wedged in his palms.
The UMP 450 that was gripped in his hands, shined with a glimmering magnificence unlike any Jack had ever seen. It looked so well kept that it almost seemed as if it had never been fired, had never bloodied a wall, or a floor, or a window. A gun never lies. They stick true. If a gun is bloody, it's been through hell, but if it's clean, it's been through absolutely nothing. Snake hung on the edge of the cement lip, waiting for some sort of sign to continue or go back, and Jack was being stared down by an innocent man with the power to take any life with the pull of a trigger…