Chapter Nineteen: Snow Angels
"You have taken the bait," Revolver Ocelot said, twirling his mustache, gleefully. "I have been waiting for you to come. Like a dog, you are drawn to the smell, but in contrast...it is your own death that draws you." There was a terrible grin on his face...like one of a crazed killer, like one of a maniac.
"Ocelot," Snake mumbled, stepping in front of Mei Ling as if to protect her. Mei Ling had an urge to stand forward, to stand proud like Snake, but the moment was not one of experimentation. Ocelot could skillfully handle his guns however he wished, and a mission never proved being anything short of challenging when he was involved. It was clear that he was a force not to be reckoned with.
"Snake," Ocelot began, pulling his hand from his mustache to a holster, patting it lightly to intimidate Snake. "I do not wish to kill you, but if I am tempted..."
"Then why are you here?" Snake asked sternly, and as usual, without expression.
"Your friend, Otacon...he has something I desire," Ocelot stated, stepping over to where blood from Turret lay. He bent down and raised one of the shards of his chain gun, examining it closely. "Yes...do you know what it is, Snake?"
"His skills," Snake suggested. Ocelot rose up, the shard in his hand, still, and turned to Snake, walking in his direction. Slowly. Very slowly.
"Ahh, you are indeed correct. I don't...suppose you are willing to hand him over to me?" Ocelot questioned, and Snake looked at him intently, shaking his head. Ocelot's smile grew and he cocked his head quizzically. "Like I thought. Of course, there is more than one life on the line right now. You have an agent outside, waiting in the snow, and another on the second floor, wandering like a stray." Mei Ling gasped and Ocelot began to tap his fingers on a column beside him. "You fear for their lives, do you? Maybe you should talk your sidekick into thinking sensibly." Mei Ling's head fell low, but she knew that she wanted neither her partners in People's Will, nor Otacon to be harmed, and she knew that speaking to Snake about it would do nothing.
"Otacon is not in your employ now, Ocelot, and he never will be. Not you, not your sniper friend...no one can change my mind, or his mind," Snake declared. Otacon sighed heavily, and set the shard of lead on a small counter beside him. Then, from his pocket he pulled a golden pocket watch.
"Looks like it is about time. I have a rather important event to attend, but you...I believe you have approximately three minutes to reach your friend in the snow before her blood covers all of the Rockies. Good luck," Ocelot turned, entirely calm, and stalked out of the room. Snake drew his gun, but in an instant, Ocelot was out the door, and firing then would only frighten the hostages in the room.
At that, Mei Ling started for the door in a fit of exasperation. Snake grabbed her arm as she went, halting her were she stood. She turned to him swiftly, and with tears in her eyes cried, "Janis is out there! We have to get to her before they do!" Snake looked into her eyes with a look of sadness. She was not fit for the front line. The horror of his job was something she was all ready witnessing, and she was driven by her emotions. While Snake always kept in touch with his own, she was naïve and blind when she followed her heart or her soul. She was still green, as he would say.
"Mei Ling," Snake paused, "fine. Let's go," he said and the two started out of the room, to the elevator, and down to the first level where they exited the building, trudging in the direction Snake had landed, dodging the sharp eyes of the guards and the incessant spotlights that searched the ground.
Naomi, Otacon, and Jack stood quietly in the elevator box, bracing themselves for the descent to the second level of Hell's Outpost where they had to report in search of Mimic, another of the People's Will agents positioned in Hell's Outpost. The elevator came to a halt, there was a faint beep, and the metal-barred doors slid to the sides. Otacon stood, waiting for Naomi to pass, but before she had a chance Jack scurried into the hall, his Hammerli 280 ready for action.
"Ladies first," Otacon said. Jack caught the comment and thought to turn back to him and scold him for his remark, but instead kept to himself. Naomi smiled at Otacon and stepped into the hall behind Jack, pulling from under her enemy camouflage a small P-20, an altered version of the Hammerli. It was Single Action, and was of a slightly lower caliber than the Hammarli 280, but it worked and she knew it to be effective with a few shots.
Jack turned back to them, sure that the halls were clear from there, and walked over to Naomi. "Do we have any contact with Mimic?" he asked, but Naomi shook her head.
"Like you, he came in fairly late in the game and was never equipped with the proper nanomachines," Naomi answered. "Still, he should be on this floor. I don't suppose it will be too hard to pick him out of the others."
"Well, if you can choose him out of a group of identical soldiers," Otacon said, "why would you employ him?" Naomi shrugged and then looked into the hall, her hands not shaking a bit. One would likely be jittering uncontrollably if it was their first time handling a gun, but Naomi was an unnatural woman, and always had a sense of control that hinted at a possible position on the front lines. She was no Snake, but she had the potential, no doubt. So much for a medical expect.
"We should stick together," Jack suggested. "Getting separated and then caught could get us all in a load of trouble. Right now, we can't make mistakes."
"Right," Otacon assured them, "but where do we start, and how DO we know who he is from a distance?" Naomi was obviously pondering his questions, her eyes still firmly set on the hall, monitoring it like an Doberman, anxiously awaiting a fattened trespasser to find it.
"He has a neckerchief dangling from his right pocket," she remembered. It was his signal, his sign. To any other enemy, he would appear normal and the neckerchief was simply a good luck charm, but to his allies, it served a much greater purpose than luck. "Wait," Naomi said, her eyes no longer resting on the end of the hall, but now on a door just paces away.
There, on the doorknob was a blue and white neckerchief, tied tightly around the brass. She waved the others ahead, and Jack stepped toward it, kneeling down and moving it to his nose. There was no smell besides sweat still in it. He shook his head in return to the others' questioning stares. "Nothing," he said, but Naomi wasn't about to stop there, and who would have?
Slowly, she stepped, one foot over another, toward the door as Jack stood up and stepped aside. There was no window in the door, but instead it was entirely wood. Touching the neckerchief and rubbing it in her palm, Naomi held her ear up against the door and listened intently. There was movement of some kind within the room, and at that, she pulled her ear away. It sounded as if someone was sitting up against the door also, listening right back at her.
She nodded back at the others and Jack held his Hammerli alert as Otacon took place behind him. Then, cautiously, Naomi turned the knob and threw the door open. Though they looked straight ahead, a loud thump fell at their feet, and the three of them quickly jerked their heads downward where there lay their prize.
The unbelievable amount of blood covering the body made it hard to identify, but seeing the neckerchief on the doorknob was too coincidental to let go unnoticed. That body was that of Mimic, and his blood had forever stained the shoes that Naomi wore. She nearly got sick right there, but as Jack reached down, they heard voices down the hall.
The snow was still falling; gentle but without cease. It simply continued to flow ever-so-slightly down to the ground, covering the footsteps of Snake and Mei Ling only moments after they left them behind. Snake quickly dropped to his knee, motioning for Mei Ling to also drop down, putting his index finger over his parched lips. He had heard something.
Slowly but surely, he inched his way forward, Mei Ling following a few feet behind. Something was beyond the short wall of ice and snow that lay before them, and he knew that the chances of it being friendly were unlikely. Sure, their friend was supposed to be out there, but what were their chances of, on their first pursuit into the area around Hell's Outpost, to stumble over her. It was unlikely.
Snake put his hand out, motioning for Mei Ling to stop as he listened intently to the wind. Nothing was disturbing it, but something had. Then, he heard something else. It lifted like a pack of gear, shaking and clanging as a soldier stood. Over the heap of snow was a soldier, dressed in the same odd camouflage, and in his hand was a knife, dripping with blood. He smirked, turned to see Snake, and then, as a shot rang out, fell on his back. Snake holstered his SOCOM and quickly stood, hurrying over the top of the ice wall. He turned away, and Mei Ling ran up beside him, her hands covering her mouth in astonishment.
There, lying in the snow was a body saturated in its blood, swimming in a pool of scarlet in the shape of a snow angel. Lying in the snow was someone who had been simply enjoying their time, playing in the snow before meeting death in the chest with a knife. Lying in the snow was Operator.
Lying in the snow was their diversion.
"You have taken the bait," Revolver Ocelot said, twirling his mustache, gleefully. "I have been waiting for you to come. Like a dog, you are drawn to the smell, but in contrast...it is your own death that draws you." There was a terrible grin on his face...like one of a crazed killer, like one of a maniac.
"Ocelot," Snake mumbled, stepping in front of Mei Ling as if to protect her. Mei Ling had an urge to stand forward, to stand proud like Snake, but the moment was not one of experimentation. Ocelot could skillfully handle his guns however he wished, and a mission never proved being anything short of challenging when he was involved. It was clear that he was a force not to be reckoned with.
"Snake," Ocelot began, pulling his hand from his mustache to a holster, patting it lightly to intimidate Snake. "I do not wish to kill you, but if I am tempted..."
"Then why are you here?" Snake asked sternly, and as usual, without expression.
"Your friend, Otacon...he has something I desire," Ocelot stated, stepping over to where blood from Turret lay. He bent down and raised one of the shards of his chain gun, examining it closely. "Yes...do you know what it is, Snake?"
"His skills," Snake suggested. Ocelot rose up, the shard in his hand, still, and turned to Snake, walking in his direction. Slowly. Very slowly.
"Ahh, you are indeed correct. I don't...suppose you are willing to hand him over to me?" Ocelot questioned, and Snake looked at him intently, shaking his head. Ocelot's smile grew and he cocked his head quizzically. "Like I thought. Of course, there is more than one life on the line right now. You have an agent outside, waiting in the snow, and another on the second floor, wandering like a stray." Mei Ling gasped and Ocelot began to tap his fingers on a column beside him. "You fear for their lives, do you? Maybe you should talk your sidekick into thinking sensibly." Mei Ling's head fell low, but she knew that she wanted neither her partners in People's Will, nor Otacon to be harmed, and she knew that speaking to Snake about it would do nothing.
"Otacon is not in your employ now, Ocelot, and he never will be. Not you, not your sniper friend...no one can change my mind, or his mind," Snake declared. Otacon sighed heavily, and set the shard of lead on a small counter beside him. Then, from his pocket he pulled a golden pocket watch.
"Looks like it is about time. I have a rather important event to attend, but you...I believe you have approximately three minutes to reach your friend in the snow before her blood covers all of the Rockies. Good luck," Ocelot turned, entirely calm, and stalked out of the room. Snake drew his gun, but in an instant, Ocelot was out the door, and firing then would only frighten the hostages in the room.
At that, Mei Ling started for the door in a fit of exasperation. Snake grabbed her arm as she went, halting her were she stood. She turned to him swiftly, and with tears in her eyes cried, "Janis is out there! We have to get to her before they do!" Snake looked into her eyes with a look of sadness. She was not fit for the front line. The horror of his job was something she was all ready witnessing, and she was driven by her emotions. While Snake always kept in touch with his own, she was naïve and blind when she followed her heart or her soul. She was still green, as he would say.
"Mei Ling," Snake paused, "fine. Let's go," he said and the two started out of the room, to the elevator, and down to the first level where they exited the building, trudging in the direction Snake had landed, dodging the sharp eyes of the guards and the incessant spotlights that searched the ground.
Naomi, Otacon, and Jack stood quietly in the elevator box, bracing themselves for the descent to the second level of Hell's Outpost where they had to report in search of Mimic, another of the People's Will agents positioned in Hell's Outpost. The elevator came to a halt, there was a faint beep, and the metal-barred doors slid to the sides. Otacon stood, waiting for Naomi to pass, but before she had a chance Jack scurried into the hall, his Hammerli 280 ready for action.
"Ladies first," Otacon said. Jack caught the comment and thought to turn back to him and scold him for his remark, but instead kept to himself. Naomi smiled at Otacon and stepped into the hall behind Jack, pulling from under her enemy camouflage a small P-20, an altered version of the Hammerli. It was Single Action, and was of a slightly lower caliber than the Hammarli 280, but it worked and she knew it to be effective with a few shots.
Jack turned back to them, sure that the halls were clear from there, and walked over to Naomi. "Do we have any contact with Mimic?" he asked, but Naomi shook her head.
"Like you, he came in fairly late in the game and was never equipped with the proper nanomachines," Naomi answered. "Still, he should be on this floor. I don't suppose it will be too hard to pick him out of the others."
"Well, if you can choose him out of a group of identical soldiers," Otacon said, "why would you employ him?" Naomi shrugged and then looked into the hall, her hands not shaking a bit. One would likely be jittering uncontrollably if it was their first time handling a gun, but Naomi was an unnatural woman, and always had a sense of control that hinted at a possible position on the front lines. She was no Snake, but she had the potential, no doubt. So much for a medical expect.
"We should stick together," Jack suggested. "Getting separated and then caught could get us all in a load of trouble. Right now, we can't make mistakes."
"Right," Otacon assured them, "but where do we start, and how DO we know who he is from a distance?" Naomi was obviously pondering his questions, her eyes still firmly set on the hall, monitoring it like an Doberman, anxiously awaiting a fattened trespasser to find it.
"He has a neckerchief dangling from his right pocket," she remembered. It was his signal, his sign. To any other enemy, he would appear normal and the neckerchief was simply a good luck charm, but to his allies, it served a much greater purpose than luck. "Wait," Naomi said, her eyes no longer resting on the end of the hall, but now on a door just paces away.
There, on the doorknob was a blue and white neckerchief, tied tightly around the brass. She waved the others ahead, and Jack stepped toward it, kneeling down and moving it to his nose. There was no smell besides sweat still in it. He shook his head in return to the others' questioning stares. "Nothing," he said, but Naomi wasn't about to stop there, and who would have?
Slowly, she stepped, one foot over another, toward the door as Jack stood up and stepped aside. There was no window in the door, but instead it was entirely wood. Touching the neckerchief and rubbing it in her palm, Naomi held her ear up against the door and listened intently. There was movement of some kind within the room, and at that, she pulled her ear away. It sounded as if someone was sitting up against the door also, listening right back at her.
She nodded back at the others and Jack held his Hammerli alert as Otacon took place behind him. Then, cautiously, Naomi turned the knob and threw the door open. Though they looked straight ahead, a loud thump fell at their feet, and the three of them quickly jerked their heads downward where there lay their prize.
The unbelievable amount of blood covering the body made it hard to identify, but seeing the neckerchief on the doorknob was too coincidental to let go unnoticed. That body was that of Mimic, and his blood had forever stained the shoes that Naomi wore. She nearly got sick right there, but as Jack reached down, they heard voices down the hall.
The snow was still falling; gentle but without cease. It simply continued to flow ever-so-slightly down to the ground, covering the footsteps of Snake and Mei Ling only moments after they left them behind. Snake quickly dropped to his knee, motioning for Mei Ling to also drop down, putting his index finger over his parched lips. He had heard something.
Slowly but surely, he inched his way forward, Mei Ling following a few feet behind. Something was beyond the short wall of ice and snow that lay before them, and he knew that the chances of it being friendly were unlikely. Sure, their friend was supposed to be out there, but what were their chances of, on their first pursuit into the area around Hell's Outpost, to stumble over her. It was unlikely.
Snake put his hand out, motioning for Mei Ling to stop as he listened intently to the wind. Nothing was disturbing it, but something had. Then, he heard something else. It lifted like a pack of gear, shaking and clanging as a soldier stood. Over the heap of snow was a soldier, dressed in the same odd camouflage, and in his hand was a knife, dripping with blood. He smirked, turned to see Snake, and then, as a shot rang out, fell on his back. Snake holstered his SOCOM and quickly stood, hurrying over the top of the ice wall. He turned away, and Mei Ling ran up beside him, her hands covering her mouth in astonishment.
There, lying in the snow was a body saturated in its blood, swimming in a pool of scarlet in the shape of a snow angel. Lying in the snow was someone who had been simply enjoying their time, playing in the snow before meeting death in the chest with a knife. Lying in the snow was Operator.
Lying in the snow was their diversion.