Chapter Seven: Come and Gone
"Formal?" Snake muttered.
The scene was endless. Snake's eyes tried strenuously to adjust to what he saw, trying to sort out the relevance and the truth…and while he remembered, so plainly, Formal's demise he saw him there…standing there, that crazed look on his face. He was alive.
Pushing away from the glass window, Formal waved – his hand bending at its knuckles like a child's 'goodbye signal' – and began to step off into the street, his back turned to the frozen traffic. Snake stood, ready to raise his SOCOM, but he saw something. The scene. Something was wrong.
When he first saw Formal, he was wearing a nice suit, sunglasses, and was carrying a briefcase. As he stepped into the street, lightly making the transition from the curb to the pavement, Snake saw his suit and he saw his glasses, but one thing was out of place. At the foot of the window sat a black briefcase, and in Formal's right hand was nothing. "Down!" Snake cried, and as he fell to the floor, as the stranger hoisted onto his feet and turned to see the commotion from the streets, there was an ear- shattering noise that broke through the glass of the restaurant and sent a wave of fire and debris over the interior.
A warm blanket fell over them as they ducked under the table…all but one, who besides ducking…fell. Snake's eyes were wide open, his body huddled beneath the table beside Jack, and on the other side of the table he saw something drop. He saw it flatten against the carpeted floor, and he saw other debris piling over it. It was the stranger. The agent. Their new partner. Their dead partner.
The moment was interrupted by the immediate cry of cars on the street, and a shrill yelp from the back of the restaurant. "Oh my God!" their waitress yelled, running to where the debris had fallen, and then peeking under their table to assure their safety. Her eyes went smoothly over Jack and Snake who were beginning to move out from under it all, but her hand went over her mouth when she saw the other man.
Her face quickly transformed, becoming determined. She put her hand to her ear and began to speak. "Post Arteigo reporting! We have an agent down…Yes…It's Terran." Snake looked at her uneasily, and Jack found himself doing the very same thing. Expecting their surprise, the waitress looked up at them, winked, and then stood and moved to the back of the restaurant. Snake and Jack swapped gazes, and found their footing. They tried hard not to look at Terran.
"She's with the UFAC?" Snake stated, quizzically. Jack looked at him and lifted his shoulders unknowingly. "Damn," Snake said, turning to the street and stepping through the shattered windows that stretched from the floor to the ceiling. Jack did not follow immediately. "He's gone," he said, and Jack bent his neck, his eyes focused on Snake who was standing on the remains of the briefcase, the wind flowing through his hair, and the light of day setting him into darkness and appearing as a silhouette.
"Snake," Jack began, looking back down. "I know I killed him. I shot him. Right in the center of his back." He lifted his head again and stepped over to Snake's side, trying to stand as proudly as possible. Snake shook his head, watching the people scurry from their cars and point, in awe, at two completely demolished vehicles.
"Whatever you did…he's not dead. I don't doubt that you sent that bullet right TO his back, but I'd be surprised if it ever grazed his skin," Snake commented, his eyes still analyzing the horror and disruption on the street. Jack's gaze moved from the chaos to Snake, and it was filled with confusion. "Remember his knives?" Snake waited for an unconscious reply and then continued. "He kept them in his suit jacket…he returned them to his jacket before he went off…I'll bet they littered every inside inch of that suit."
"He deflected it," Jack claimed in awe. He hadn't pinned him in the head, where he would have been defenseless, but instead he'd aimed for his back. 'Why his back?!' he thought. His fist pounded against his thigh in frustration.
"Forget about it," Snake said, leaving Jack even more confounded. "What worries me isn't that he is here, but why he is here." Snake touched his hand to his ear, and Jack followed suit. "Otacon?" he recited, and there was a click followed by a familiar return.
"Snake?" Otacon questioned, looking over a fresh photo of Formal sprawled against the window of El Arteigo. "I picked up a VIS (Visual Imaging System) image networked through your feedback system. What happened?" Snake paused.
"Formal is here," Snake answered, surveying the streets. "He left a 'present' for us. C4 explosives I'll bet. Blew the front of the restaurant to pieces…along with your friend from the UFAC." Otacon did not gasp. He did not cry. He just sat there, his eyes weak and his mouth hanging open. "Two cars are in pieces on the street, and Formal got away. Otacon, who are these people?"
"I don't know," Otacon answered. Lifting the Special Report of The Manhattan Resident to his eyes, he recited an article on the second page. "Here we go, listen to this. 'The terrorists involved in this morning's attack have not yet spoken to the representatives of the United States, but after tracing a line of theft through Cuba to the Middle East, UN officials have released a clue as to the identity of these terrorists. The acronym 'UFAC' has come up in many foreign reports, and US officials are becoming involved in the search for an explanation. And, to this point in time, all US representatives have denied knowledge of 'UFAC.'"
"The terrorists are part of the UFAC?!" Snake proclaimed, quizzically. Otacon shook his head.
"They have not confirmed anything, and the acronym's presence in a report doesn't mean that it's the name by which they are referred. Besides, the UFAC is an 'Anti-Patriot' alternative, not some ballistic terrorist organization." Otacon sounded nearly frustrated with having to explain so much to Snake, but he shrugged the tone aside, and waited for another to continue the conversation.
"We should get out of here then?" Jack insisted. Otacon nodded in approval.
"Police will be swarming the area. I wonder why they aren't working to stop the invasion," Otacon questioned. Snake nodded, a smile on his face.
"Ocelot is the Police. He doesn't put it all on the table until he knows he's got a Check Mate. He's holding them back." Snake turned to Jack and nodded.
"Snake, Jack…be careful," Otacon added, and they smirked at his request.
"Over and out, Otacon," Snake said, and the transmission had ended. The two stood there, the craziness and the chaos feet ahead of them. Bystanders had a hard time deciding what to look at: the cars or Snake. Both seemed to be attention getting: the destruction of the cars and the unusual gear and clothes that Snake wore. "Let's go," he said to Jack, and they stepped onto the sidewalk and moved to the right.
As they went down the sidewalk, people rushing by frantically, the traffic started again as red and blue lights flashed behind them. The cars ran by, their faint taillights leaving trails of color in the air. Looking at it more closely, they felt the same with the agent from El Arteigo. They had met, and he had died. Like the cars, and like the people, he had come and gone. It hurt Snake…that feeling. Everyone he met, he kept distance to. Why? Because they were like the agent. They had come and gone.
Come and gone.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: I'm so sorry that it has taken me so long to update, and I am equally sorry that this chapter was so short, but my family is going through hard times, and I have been trying to make the transition from my game's script to writing full-time prose. Together, these things have taken much of my thought and time, and school is getting rough…well, I won't stop here. I'll have the next chapter up for you in the next two days. Yes, that's a promise. Take care! Ciao!
"Formal?" Snake muttered.
The scene was endless. Snake's eyes tried strenuously to adjust to what he saw, trying to sort out the relevance and the truth…and while he remembered, so plainly, Formal's demise he saw him there…standing there, that crazed look on his face. He was alive.
Pushing away from the glass window, Formal waved – his hand bending at its knuckles like a child's 'goodbye signal' – and began to step off into the street, his back turned to the frozen traffic. Snake stood, ready to raise his SOCOM, but he saw something. The scene. Something was wrong.
When he first saw Formal, he was wearing a nice suit, sunglasses, and was carrying a briefcase. As he stepped into the street, lightly making the transition from the curb to the pavement, Snake saw his suit and he saw his glasses, but one thing was out of place. At the foot of the window sat a black briefcase, and in Formal's right hand was nothing. "Down!" Snake cried, and as he fell to the floor, as the stranger hoisted onto his feet and turned to see the commotion from the streets, there was an ear- shattering noise that broke through the glass of the restaurant and sent a wave of fire and debris over the interior.
A warm blanket fell over them as they ducked under the table…all but one, who besides ducking…fell. Snake's eyes were wide open, his body huddled beneath the table beside Jack, and on the other side of the table he saw something drop. He saw it flatten against the carpeted floor, and he saw other debris piling over it. It was the stranger. The agent. Their new partner. Their dead partner.
The moment was interrupted by the immediate cry of cars on the street, and a shrill yelp from the back of the restaurant. "Oh my God!" their waitress yelled, running to where the debris had fallen, and then peeking under their table to assure their safety. Her eyes went smoothly over Jack and Snake who were beginning to move out from under it all, but her hand went over her mouth when she saw the other man.
Her face quickly transformed, becoming determined. She put her hand to her ear and began to speak. "Post Arteigo reporting! We have an agent down…Yes…It's Terran." Snake looked at her uneasily, and Jack found himself doing the very same thing. Expecting their surprise, the waitress looked up at them, winked, and then stood and moved to the back of the restaurant. Snake and Jack swapped gazes, and found their footing. They tried hard not to look at Terran.
"She's with the UFAC?" Snake stated, quizzically. Jack looked at him and lifted his shoulders unknowingly. "Damn," Snake said, turning to the street and stepping through the shattered windows that stretched from the floor to the ceiling. Jack did not follow immediately. "He's gone," he said, and Jack bent his neck, his eyes focused on Snake who was standing on the remains of the briefcase, the wind flowing through his hair, and the light of day setting him into darkness and appearing as a silhouette.
"Snake," Jack began, looking back down. "I know I killed him. I shot him. Right in the center of his back." He lifted his head again and stepped over to Snake's side, trying to stand as proudly as possible. Snake shook his head, watching the people scurry from their cars and point, in awe, at two completely demolished vehicles.
"Whatever you did…he's not dead. I don't doubt that you sent that bullet right TO his back, but I'd be surprised if it ever grazed his skin," Snake commented, his eyes still analyzing the horror and disruption on the street. Jack's gaze moved from the chaos to Snake, and it was filled with confusion. "Remember his knives?" Snake waited for an unconscious reply and then continued. "He kept them in his suit jacket…he returned them to his jacket before he went off…I'll bet they littered every inside inch of that suit."
"He deflected it," Jack claimed in awe. He hadn't pinned him in the head, where he would have been defenseless, but instead he'd aimed for his back. 'Why his back?!' he thought. His fist pounded against his thigh in frustration.
"Forget about it," Snake said, leaving Jack even more confounded. "What worries me isn't that he is here, but why he is here." Snake touched his hand to his ear, and Jack followed suit. "Otacon?" he recited, and there was a click followed by a familiar return.
"Snake?" Otacon questioned, looking over a fresh photo of Formal sprawled against the window of El Arteigo. "I picked up a VIS (Visual Imaging System) image networked through your feedback system. What happened?" Snake paused.
"Formal is here," Snake answered, surveying the streets. "He left a 'present' for us. C4 explosives I'll bet. Blew the front of the restaurant to pieces…along with your friend from the UFAC." Otacon did not gasp. He did not cry. He just sat there, his eyes weak and his mouth hanging open. "Two cars are in pieces on the street, and Formal got away. Otacon, who are these people?"
"I don't know," Otacon answered. Lifting the Special Report of The Manhattan Resident to his eyes, he recited an article on the second page. "Here we go, listen to this. 'The terrorists involved in this morning's attack have not yet spoken to the representatives of the United States, but after tracing a line of theft through Cuba to the Middle East, UN officials have released a clue as to the identity of these terrorists. The acronym 'UFAC' has come up in many foreign reports, and US officials are becoming involved in the search for an explanation. And, to this point in time, all US representatives have denied knowledge of 'UFAC.'"
"The terrorists are part of the UFAC?!" Snake proclaimed, quizzically. Otacon shook his head.
"They have not confirmed anything, and the acronym's presence in a report doesn't mean that it's the name by which they are referred. Besides, the UFAC is an 'Anti-Patriot' alternative, not some ballistic terrorist organization." Otacon sounded nearly frustrated with having to explain so much to Snake, but he shrugged the tone aside, and waited for another to continue the conversation.
"We should get out of here then?" Jack insisted. Otacon nodded in approval.
"Police will be swarming the area. I wonder why they aren't working to stop the invasion," Otacon questioned. Snake nodded, a smile on his face.
"Ocelot is the Police. He doesn't put it all on the table until he knows he's got a Check Mate. He's holding them back." Snake turned to Jack and nodded.
"Snake, Jack…be careful," Otacon added, and they smirked at his request.
"Over and out, Otacon," Snake said, and the transmission had ended. The two stood there, the craziness and the chaos feet ahead of them. Bystanders had a hard time deciding what to look at: the cars or Snake. Both seemed to be attention getting: the destruction of the cars and the unusual gear and clothes that Snake wore. "Let's go," he said to Jack, and they stepped onto the sidewalk and moved to the right.
As they went down the sidewalk, people rushing by frantically, the traffic started again as red and blue lights flashed behind them. The cars ran by, their faint taillights leaving trails of color in the air. Looking at it more closely, they felt the same with the agent from El Arteigo. They had met, and he had died. Like the cars, and like the people, he had come and gone. It hurt Snake…that feeling. Everyone he met, he kept distance to. Why? Because they were like the agent. They had come and gone.
Come and gone.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: I'm so sorry that it has taken me so long to update, and I am equally sorry that this chapter was so short, but my family is going through hard times, and I have been trying to make the transition from my game's script to writing full-time prose. Together, these things have taken much of my thought and time, and school is getting rough…well, I won't stop here. I'll have the next chapter up for you in the next two days. Yes, that's a promise. Take care! Ciao!