Chapter Twenty: In Each Other's Company
"At Battery Park," Snake remembered Otacon telling him before the shots were fired on the bridge. "Head there as soon as possible!" Right then, there was a loud uproar of…voices, Snake thought they might have been, but the roaring was abruptly halted only moments later when the transmission died, and the silence ensued. He had cursed the Heavens, but discarded his frustrations and quickly set off for Battery Park – some distance south of where he and Jack were positioned at the toy store.
The wind swept past their ears, crackling like a thousand nuclear explosions just inches away. 'Keep up,' Jack told himself, seeing that Snake had taken a significant lead on him. He had started off running just as the past transmission went silent, and Jack – who still didn't know what as happening – followed. And as he did, he saw the strangest, most foreign sights: the streets were rapidly filling with people.
A helicopter passed overhead, drawing the attention of both Snake and Jack. They stopped, their hearts nearly busting through their chests and their eyes on the dark object as it flew about. Examining it, they saw bullet- holes in its hull and through the glass, and blood stains across its body. The two exchanged apprehensive glances and Snake jogged over to Jack, putting his hand on his shoulder. He looked at him somewhat unfortunately.
"Jack," he started, taking a gulp of air and concentrating on the sidewalk, "can you take care of this?" Jack looked at him, baffled.
"What?! Take care of what?! How the hell should I even know what's going on?!" He cracked. Snake tried to speak, but Jack never let an opportunity pass him by…not any longer. "I can take a lot of your crap, Snake, but I can't keep going out on a whim for you! You want blind loyalty, some sort of unquestioned obedience, but I need to be informed!"
Snake took Jack's reaction hard. "It's a little hard – juggling the things that I do," he breathed. There was a moment of silence as he worked to compose himself. "Otacon wants us to meet him at Battery Park. The transmission went dead. And now, this chopper is hanging around and people are waving their hands in the air like they're bidding on their lives. Maybe I ask too much of you, but to a certain extent, I NEED your help. We can't always be fighting on the same battlefield."
"I care as much about Otacon as you, Snake, but –"
"No!" Snake cried, gripping the excess of material around Jack's collarbone, and pulling his face close. "You're just another field agent – here today, gone tomorrow. Otacon was here yesterday – he was here before you. You don't take his place, and you DON'T take mine. Got it?!"
Jack's eyes were not on Snake. They had wandered far off…had left even this world, but his ears remained attentive. He heard everything Snake said…and then shrugged his grip loose. "So I'm dead, Snake? 'Just another field agent – here today, gone tomorrow'?" Jack shook his head defiantly. "I learned, just like you, that emotion is key to surviving any mission like this, but you fouled up a long time ago when you started 'caring' for Otacon. You do your part and he does his. You can't risk thousands…or millions of lives because you're afraid for him!"
Snake didn't answer. But his stare…his gaze…it was strong and weak, penetrating and feeble.
"Here," Jack said finally, setting two shimmering objects in Snake's palm. Looking down at them, Snake saw exactly what they were.
"Dog tags?" he asked, seeing 'Raiden' printed on them.
"Consider this my resignation from Philanthropy," Jack answered, returning a dignified glare. "You want Raiden…not Jack." Sending Snake one last sting of anger, he turned away. "Raiden was the rookie," he muttered, and the cries of the people and the chattering of the helicopter above briskly demolished the silence that had procured the moment.
Jack went off then, almost as if he had something to do but he had nothing. Snake, though, had stood there. He let the wind swim over him, and felt a cool breeze beat the competition out of the heat. And there, the moment felt so bittersweet. There was that sigh of relief in the wind, one that came with great welcoming, but with its repose had come the loss of a partner…had come the loss of a friend.
"This is Manhattan News," a voice broke onto the radio, interrupting a previous rendition of 'When a Man Loves a Woman.' Naomi, who sat at the wheel, stuck in a horde of traffic and surrounded by rioters, turned the volume as high as she could without busting her eardrums. "Just moments ago, the Triborough Bridge – from Randall's Island to Manhattan Island – was assaulted by citizens on either side of its landing on Manhattan Island. Apparently, the raid was sparked by a 'sword-wielding' figure who entered Manhattan with another who has been identified as a one Hal Emmerich."
'Frank?!' Naomi cried within, and with a rambunctious holler from the crowds, she turned the volume louder.
"Six 'FACtion-employed' soldiers have been recovered from the assault, battered and beaten after being shot by varying sorts of weapons that officials suspect are being carried by the civilians involved in this incident. Two pilots were able to retreat from the bridge, using an Iroquois helicopter as their get-away vehicle.
"As a result, in only the past few minutes, the entirety of Manhattan has found courage that had once lay dormant. Many have left their homes and have gone to the streets with the intentions of confronting those soldiers that remain in control of the island." There was an abrupt stall in the broadcasting, and a click meant the switching of transmissions.
Naomi watched the crowds moving eerily through the streets, and as another voice was amplified on the radio, she shivered. "I apologize for interrupting this broadcasting of the Manhattan News." It was so familiar, but she couldn't put her finger on it. "All stations will be reverted to a secondary signal running on an international level. This change is for security reasons, and please…stay strong."
There was another click as the signal changed again. After a moment of hesitation, another station filled Naomi's ears, blasting her ears into oblivion as a voice rocked the car. Fitfully turning down the volume and cupping her ears, she tried to listen for continuing announcements, but when she heard the new broadcaster's voice rise, she sensed its stability. "Today is an example of how summer is supposed to be," a woman said.
'An international broadcasting station,' she pondered. "Damn! The world's in the dark," she exclaimed, hitting the steering wheel with the blunt of her wrist. And she understood then.
Naomi had abandoned her car in the midst of the rioting pools of civilians many blocks back, and was on foot. In the crook of her arm she held a small radio, and its headphones were slipped over her ears as she carried a laptop in her other hand. Listening closely to the words of the broadcasting woman, after the station had been 'overthrown' she slid her headphones around the back of her neck and massaged her forehead.
She knew, just as Naomi, what was happening. All of Manhattan had been seized in the early morning, but not only were family members cut off from families outside of the city, the media had been censored. With the switch to the international broadcasting, Naomi – as well as herself – had realized that no one but those who were in Manhattan knew of the events that had conspired. Someone was controlling the paper, the radio…everything. But more baffling than anything else…they were trying to deceive even the people of Manhattan.
Why?
She turned her head upward and saw, at the end of her street, Battery Park.
Otacon and Grey Fox had been left without transportation since reaching the Triborough Bridge, but had not needed to walk a great distance to reach Battery Park. Both of them were worn – Otacon more than Fox – but both of them were as lively as ever. The cool breeze that began to whip about them like wisps of satiny hair revitalized them, and restored their energy even in the wake of their past involvements.
Still, even with the faint presence of renewal, they were unable to run. Their legs had tightened with the walking, and the rebel-cries had shattered their eardrums and left them useless to detecting any sounds. But, neither of them was necessarily weak and they would not give up. Snake, Jack, Naomi, Mei Ling…they, along with all the people of Manhattan, lay in their hands. The uprising would win against a number of armed soldiers, but it would certainly not prevail if the initial biological threat held true, or if a nuclear possibility was evident.
Fox suspected something more than a hundred soldiers…he suspected something more… "They've got a trump card," he said aloud, catching Otacon's undivided attention. "FACtion. If they thought that they could seize a city of this size, and keep control of it for longer than even an hour, they were mistaken."
Otacon nodded. "They must have expected something like this," he suggested. "But…maybe they expected something more."
"Prepared for the Catfish, but only reeled in the Blue Gale?" Fox added.
"No…I think they're ready for anything, just…maybe this is part of their plan. What if they were 'provoking' the uprising? There has to be more to it. They haven't even given any demands besides the city's compliance." Fox nodded.
Before they were able to continue their conversation, they were facing the green grasses of Battery Park. In the distance, beyond the sparsely covered areas, sat giant Ferris Wheels and towering amusement rides. The sight, brought Otacon back to reality. He had almost forgotten that the day was July 4th, and as the images of the past years' Independence Day celebrations, he found himself on duty for the majority of them.
He hadn't been able to experience the festivities for many years. Since he was a child, his celebration consisted of no more than one glass of generic Ginger Ale – his 'bubbly' substitute. The saddest part was that he spent each one alone, not even with Snake. If they were on a mission, he was always secluded and unable to help. He watched…and all he saw was a worthless dot of color. That was how he came to recognize Snake.
"We'll need to make contact with the Colonel," Otacon stated rather abruptly. Grey Fox shook his head, and quickly shot down the idea.
"We can't trust him," he said. "Not yet, at least. Figure out that program, and look in on them. That will be enough for now." Otacon nodded, acceptingly. He would put up an argument if there were any rational chances of winning, but with Fox he knew he had all ready lost. Besides, Fox was right. The Colonel was still a questionable character.
Stopping in a location where they could see up three streets at once, Fox turned to the distant streets and Otacon watched too. On the far right was Naomi – her car now abandoned. Her walk was hasty, and she jogged just like Fox had come to remember. He smiled as his eyes caught hers, and even in the distance that lay between them they could see each other as bright as day. Naomi smiled.
Otacon looked left, and saw Mei Ling next. Her shoulders were slumped forward, and her eyelids looked to be weighed down with anvils. A stressful look of exasperation had put a dab of color on her cheeks, but as she saw the green grass laid out before her, she quickened her pace.
Then, both men turned, and down the last street they saw no one. Their eyes darted hungrily about the area, and they caught no sign of either Jack or Snake. "Where's Snake?!" Otacon cried, stepping off in different directions to find varying perspectives.
And then, there was something.
From the shadowy lengths of the streets, through a crowd of rioters, there came one body. Fox saw him, as did Otacon, and they both were filled with a temporary excitement.
"Snake," Fox said, smiling. But, it quickly melted into a frown. "He walks alone." Otacon shuddered.
And then, there was another.
Just behind Snake, making his way out of the crowds was Jack. Moving beside each other, Otacon's face was touched with a smile of satisfaction and relief. The breeze slowed, and the cries were whittled down to whispers as the two came marching side by side, their shoulder parallel and their faces bright.
They could not leave each other's company. Jack couldn't fail Snake, and Snake couldn't leave him behind.
Otacon smiled. "The walk together." Snake was right, though. Jack would never be a replacement for either Otacon or himself, but…he had come to fill a new slot, and it was in each other's company that they found a balance.
"At Battery Park," Snake remembered Otacon telling him before the shots were fired on the bridge. "Head there as soon as possible!" Right then, there was a loud uproar of…voices, Snake thought they might have been, but the roaring was abruptly halted only moments later when the transmission died, and the silence ensued. He had cursed the Heavens, but discarded his frustrations and quickly set off for Battery Park – some distance south of where he and Jack were positioned at the toy store.
The wind swept past their ears, crackling like a thousand nuclear explosions just inches away. 'Keep up,' Jack told himself, seeing that Snake had taken a significant lead on him. He had started off running just as the past transmission went silent, and Jack – who still didn't know what as happening – followed. And as he did, he saw the strangest, most foreign sights: the streets were rapidly filling with people.
A helicopter passed overhead, drawing the attention of both Snake and Jack. They stopped, their hearts nearly busting through their chests and their eyes on the dark object as it flew about. Examining it, they saw bullet- holes in its hull and through the glass, and blood stains across its body. The two exchanged apprehensive glances and Snake jogged over to Jack, putting his hand on his shoulder. He looked at him somewhat unfortunately.
"Jack," he started, taking a gulp of air and concentrating on the sidewalk, "can you take care of this?" Jack looked at him, baffled.
"What?! Take care of what?! How the hell should I even know what's going on?!" He cracked. Snake tried to speak, but Jack never let an opportunity pass him by…not any longer. "I can take a lot of your crap, Snake, but I can't keep going out on a whim for you! You want blind loyalty, some sort of unquestioned obedience, but I need to be informed!"
Snake took Jack's reaction hard. "It's a little hard – juggling the things that I do," he breathed. There was a moment of silence as he worked to compose himself. "Otacon wants us to meet him at Battery Park. The transmission went dead. And now, this chopper is hanging around and people are waving their hands in the air like they're bidding on their lives. Maybe I ask too much of you, but to a certain extent, I NEED your help. We can't always be fighting on the same battlefield."
"I care as much about Otacon as you, Snake, but –"
"No!" Snake cried, gripping the excess of material around Jack's collarbone, and pulling his face close. "You're just another field agent – here today, gone tomorrow. Otacon was here yesterday – he was here before you. You don't take his place, and you DON'T take mine. Got it?!"
Jack's eyes were not on Snake. They had wandered far off…had left even this world, but his ears remained attentive. He heard everything Snake said…and then shrugged his grip loose. "So I'm dead, Snake? 'Just another field agent – here today, gone tomorrow'?" Jack shook his head defiantly. "I learned, just like you, that emotion is key to surviving any mission like this, but you fouled up a long time ago when you started 'caring' for Otacon. You do your part and he does his. You can't risk thousands…or millions of lives because you're afraid for him!"
Snake didn't answer. But his stare…his gaze…it was strong and weak, penetrating and feeble.
"Here," Jack said finally, setting two shimmering objects in Snake's palm. Looking down at them, Snake saw exactly what they were.
"Dog tags?" he asked, seeing 'Raiden' printed on them.
"Consider this my resignation from Philanthropy," Jack answered, returning a dignified glare. "You want Raiden…not Jack." Sending Snake one last sting of anger, he turned away. "Raiden was the rookie," he muttered, and the cries of the people and the chattering of the helicopter above briskly demolished the silence that had procured the moment.
Jack went off then, almost as if he had something to do but he had nothing. Snake, though, had stood there. He let the wind swim over him, and felt a cool breeze beat the competition out of the heat. And there, the moment felt so bittersweet. There was that sigh of relief in the wind, one that came with great welcoming, but with its repose had come the loss of a partner…had come the loss of a friend.
"This is Manhattan News," a voice broke onto the radio, interrupting a previous rendition of 'When a Man Loves a Woman.' Naomi, who sat at the wheel, stuck in a horde of traffic and surrounded by rioters, turned the volume as high as she could without busting her eardrums. "Just moments ago, the Triborough Bridge – from Randall's Island to Manhattan Island – was assaulted by citizens on either side of its landing on Manhattan Island. Apparently, the raid was sparked by a 'sword-wielding' figure who entered Manhattan with another who has been identified as a one Hal Emmerich."
'Frank?!' Naomi cried within, and with a rambunctious holler from the crowds, she turned the volume louder.
"Six 'FACtion-employed' soldiers have been recovered from the assault, battered and beaten after being shot by varying sorts of weapons that officials suspect are being carried by the civilians involved in this incident. Two pilots were able to retreat from the bridge, using an Iroquois helicopter as their get-away vehicle.
"As a result, in only the past few minutes, the entirety of Manhattan has found courage that had once lay dormant. Many have left their homes and have gone to the streets with the intentions of confronting those soldiers that remain in control of the island." There was an abrupt stall in the broadcasting, and a click meant the switching of transmissions.
Naomi watched the crowds moving eerily through the streets, and as another voice was amplified on the radio, she shivered. "I apologize for interrupting this broadcasting of the Manhattan News." It was so familiar, but she couldn't put her finger on it. "All stations will be reverted to a secondary signal running on an international level. This change is for security reasons, and please…stay strong."
There was another click as the signal changed again. After a moment of hesitation, another station filled Naomi's ears, blasting her ears into oblivion as a voice rocked the car. Fitfully turning down the volume and cupping her ears, she tried to listen for continuing announcements, but when she heard the new broadcaster's voice rise, she sensed its stability. "Today is an example of how summer is supposed to be," a woman said.
'An international broadcasting station,' she pondered. "Damn! The world's in the dark," she exclaimed, hitting the steering wheel with the blunt of her wrist. And she understood then.
Naomi had abandoned her car in the midst of the rioting pools of civilians many blocks back, and was on foot. In the crook of her arm she held a small radio, and its headphones were slipped over her ears as she carried a laptop in her other hand. Listening closely to the words of the broadcasting woman, after the station had been 'overthrown' she slid her headphones around the back of her neck and massaged her forehead.
She knew, just as Naomi, what was happening. All of Manhattan had been seized in the early morning, but not only were family members cut off from families outside of the city, the media had been censored. With the switch to the international broadcasting, Naomi – as well as herself – had realized that no one but those who were in Manhattan knew of the events that had conspired. Someone was controlling the paper, the radio…everything. But more baffling than anything else…they were trying to deceive even the people of Manhattan.
Why?
She turned her head upward and saw, at the end of her street, Battery Park.
Otacon and Grey Fox had been left without transportation since reaching the Triborough Bridge, but had not needed to walk a great distance to reach Battery Park. Both of them were worn – Otacon more than Fox – but both of them were as lively as ever. The cool breeze that began to whip about them like wisps of satiny hair revitalized them, and restored their energy even in the wake of their past involvements.
Still, even with the faint presence of renewal, they were unable to run. Their legs had tightened with the walking, and the rebel-cries had shattered their eardrums and left them useless to detecting any sounds. But, neither of them was necessarily weak and they would not give up. Snake, Jack, Naomi, Mei Ling…they, along with all the people of Manhattan, lay in their hands. The uprising would win against a number of armed soldiers, but it would certainly not prevail if the initial biological threat held true, or if a nuclear possibility was evident.
Fox suspected something more than a hundred soldiers…he suspected something more… "They've got a trump card," he said aloud, catching Otacon's undivided attention. "FACtion. If they thought that they could seize a city of this size, and keep control of it for longer than even an hour, they were mistaken."
Otacon nodded. "They must have expected something like this," he suggested. "But…maybe they expected something more."
"Prepared for the Catfish, but only reeled in the Blue Gale?" Fox added.
"No…I think they're ready for anything, just…maybe this is part of their plan. What if they were 'provoking' the uprising? There has to be more to it. They haven't even given any demands besides the city's compliance." Fox nodded.
Before they were able to continue their conversation, they were facing the green grasses of Battery Park. In the distance, beyond the sparsely covered areas, sat giant Ferris Wheels and towering amusement rides. The sight, brought Otacon back to reality. He had almost forgotten that the day was July 4th, and as the images of the past years' Independence Day celebrations, he found himself on duty for the majority of them.
He hadn't been able to experience the festivities for many years. Since he was a child, his celebration consisted of no more than one glass of generic Ginger Ale – his 'bubbly' substitute. The saddest part was that he spent each one alone, not even with Snake. If they were on a mission, he was always secluded and unable to help. He watched…and all he saw was a worthless dot of color. That was how he came to recognize Snake.
"We'll need to make contact with the Colonel," Otacon stated rather abruptly. Grey Fox shook his head, and quickly shot down the idea.
"We can't trust him," he said. "Not yet, at least. Figure out that program, and look in on them. That will be enough for now." Otacon nodded, acceptingly. He would put up an argument if there were any rational chances of winning, but with Fox he knew he had all ready lost. Besides, Fox was right. The Colonel was still a questionable character.
Stopping in a location where they could see up three streets at once, Fox turned to the distant streets and Otacon watched too. On the far right was Naomi – her car now abandoned. Her walk was hasty, and she jogged just like Fox had come to remember. He smiled as his eyes caught hers, and even in the distance that lay between them they could see each other as bright as day. Naomi smiled.
Otacon looked left, and saw Mei Ling next. Her shoulders were slumped forward, and her eyelids looked to be weighed down with anvils. A stressful look of exasperation had put a dab of color on her cheeks, but as she saw the green grass laid out before her, she quickened her pace.
Then, both men turned, and down the last street they saw no one. Their eyes darted hungrily about the area, and they caught no sign of either Jack or Snake. "Where's Snake?!" Otacon cried, stepping off in different directions to find varying perspectives.
And then, there was something.
From the shadowy lengths of the streets, through a crowd of rioters, there came one body. Fox saw him, as did Otacon, and they both were filled with a temporary excitement.
"Snake," Fox said, smiling. But, it quickly melted into a frown. "He walks alone." Otacon shuddered.
And then, there was another.
Just behind Snake, making his way out of the crowds was Jack. Moving beside each other, Otacon's face was touched with a smile of satisfaction and relief. The breeze slowed, and the cries were whittled down to whispers as the two came marching side by side, their shoulder parallel and their faces bright.
They could not leave each other's company. Jack couldn't fail Snake, and Snake couldn't leave him behind.
Otacon smiled. "The walk together." Snake was right, though. Jack would never be a replacement for either Otacon or himself, but…he had come to fill a new slot, and it was in each other's company that they found a balance.