Chapter Twenty-Three: The Romantics
The warehouse was lit well. The ceiling's lights were dim, but those that lined the floor were shining brilliantly. From Ocelot's view, there could be seen no soldiers. The security of the Zero District was insanely stealthy.
"Hmm," he growled. In his chair he sat, one hand supporting his chin and the other rhythmically tapping the desk. On the Compilation's monitor was a picture of Battery Park. Several forms littered a small area, and a helicopter was slowly landing in their midst. Around them were several armored vehicles and a jeep. And as he listened, he heard the words he wanted to here. "The Zero District," he grinned before putting his hand to his ear and waiting.
"Yes?" a voice called. It was synthesized, just as before. Ocelot smiled when he heard it.
"Anxious?" he asked. There was a sigh on the other end.
"Thought I saw Him coming back," the voice claimed. "Snake and the others should be on their way soon. You should keep your guard up." Ocelot nodded.
"I'm watching their conversation now," he stated. "And, to avoid further conclusion, how about we use His real name?"
The other voice wavered slightly. "I'm afraid I don't know it, sir."
"Dante," Ocelot quickly clarified. "Dante Borschnedst. Born in Russia – May 13th, 1984. He moved to Australia in 2003 and joined FACtion in 2012, becoming its commander in 2014. His area of expertise is computer and software engineering, and is a certified helicopter pilot. Tell me; Why do I know more about him than you?" There was an uneasy silence.
"Sir, I believe you hired me because of my position in FACtion, not because of my knowledge of his personal history." There was a sense of defiance in the voice, even as it was synthesized. "And sir, I will continue to gather as much information as I am able, but right now all I can tell you is that they are on their way."
Ocelot swallowed hard. "I've made arrangements. The Six Points will be on their way soon enough." There was a grunt of acknowledgement from the voice opposite Ocelot. "Try and keep Dante occupied until they have made it to Embassy Square."
"Do not worry, sir," the voice returned. "They will not be bothered by FACtion." With that, Ocelot ended the transmission and stretched, setting his feet on the desk before him. He seemed almost discouraged – a grim look of anger on his face.
"All soldiers," he began, clearing his throat, "in the light!" With that, the entire warehouse was lit and every hidden soldier came forth out of the shadows.
There were three floors above the first, but all were fairly wide paths that grabbed against the walls tightly. Stepping from nearly every two feet of the paths was a soldier equipped with an M4 Carbine while some carried sniper rifles that were almost equal their heights. When all had shown themselves Ocelot found his footing and pushed his chair under the desk, turning to them – his arms outstretched.
"We should be expecting visitors," he proclaimed, smiling wide. "I want all but the Compilation-accent lights out, and the Pale Screens activated. All units are to remain behind the Pale Screens until I have requested your assistance. Is this clear?" There was a nod from every soldier in the following second, and Ocelot's smile stretched clear to the sides of his face. "Good…lights!"
The warehouse was swept clean of its momentary glow, and only two objects remained lit by several lights that continued to burn at their feet. One was the Compilation, and the other was Ocelot.
Slowly, he stepped over to the Compilation, and he watched as Dante sat in his jeep. "Get a move on," Dante had said, and as Ocelot heard those words his grin shined eerily in the shadowy lights beneath him. And then, with the window exited, he chuckled.
"I need silent transportation ready immediately."
The sun was beginning to fall even at such a young hour. It had yet to reach 4:00, and all ready the sun was beginning its descent. Still, it remained bold and brilliant, and it would be hours before it had fallen beneath the horizon and gone to light another thousand cities.
Passing onto the sidewalk from the softened ground the four had become rather accustomed to, they noticed subtleness in the crowds. The wailing cries and roars of the angry and sad had died away, and what remained was a mass of depressed statues, their skin frozen in marble and their tears like bullets of fire, licking up their last ounces of strength. It was a sight that neither Snake, Otacon, Fox, or Jack wished to witness, but it was one that they could not avoid. And in the silence were the waning fire engines that burned the streets under them as they scrambled to the scene. With FACtion in disarray, the police stations had been left unguarded as well as the firehouses. But, the people were still stranded for the will to move was no longer in their possession, and were they to attempt crossing a bridge it could fall beneath their feet. There was no safe place.
"When is the government going to intervene?" Jack asked himself, but found that he had not thought but spoken. Snake did not turn to him, but spoke quietly as to not detonate a citywide panic at his words.
"The media is being restricted," he answered. "Only Manhattan knows what's happening. Even if someone else were to find the story their broadcast would be weeded out before they got a chance to air it." He looked ahead; no buildings to his right…only a giant sea and a railing to hold him back. "Ocelot is doing it."
Jack's head sprung up like a 'Jack-in-the-Box' and his arms quickly flew to his sides. "Why would he be censoring the news?" Snake stopped, and Otacon and Fox with him. Then, pivoting on his heel he came face to face with Jack, his more stern than the young one's.
"Ocelot doesn't want the entire world knowing about the Patriots! If he weren't immediately taken care of by the other men among his ranks, every government in the world would go to hell! He'd be left to lead a hundred dying nations, and even though we know he wants his name on every billboard and his face plastered on every street light, he wouldn't let it go public if he had enemies with power." Snake stepped back and turned away from the others in thought.
"No?" Jack tested him. "I think he wants it to go public, and I think FACtion does too. They want him exposed, but the only way he can beat them is to do want they don't want. So, he doesn't go live with the story today, but what's stopping him tomorrow? With his enemies good and dead, he has nothing to worry about."
"Then why didn't he go live when he first found out what he really was?" Otacon began, thinking back as he spoke. "I don't think FACtion is a threat to him. He has all of the United States military affairs in his palm, but if he let the people know there's no way he could depend on the loyalty of every member of the United States military…and he certainly couldn't go up against the world with a pair of revolvers."
"I dunno," Snake commented. "He's pretty skilled with those." He laughed and turned to Otacon who was surprisingly serious. His smile melted in an instant. "Hmph," Snake grunted, turning away again. "We can't worry about that now, anyway. It's a little after three. We need this done by four. That's the mission deadline." Otacon nodded, respecting Snake's, but they were all disappointed not to see the conversation to its end.
"A little after three?" Jack asked. "How can you tell?"
"The sun," Fox interjected, beating Snake to the answer. "You spend enough time on the field and the sky starts looking like a big clock." Jack seemed amused by the answer, but at its end Snake and Otacon had started off again, and he and Fox were quick to follow.
From then on, they made the journey in silence. Snake was continually checking his pocket for the disc he'd been given and Fox's hands were stretching in anticipation for a brawl. Jack and Otacon were somewhat absent from the situation, their minds concerned for other things. But, they were all brought down to earth when they stopped just a block north of the warehouse, which was easily noticeable from where they stood. Stopping, they turned to each other to clarify any misunderstandings before heading in.
"Snake," Otacon began, "you and Jack will go in. We don't have any way of reaching the roof, so we cant very well make a descent. That leaves you with only one infiltration method."
"Through the front door," Snake suggested. Otacon nodded uneasily.
"Right," he confirmed. "That's not very reasonable, but there's not much else we can do."
"So, there aren't any fire escapes?" Jack questioned. Otacon shook his head vaguely.
"Shouldn't be," he stated. "From the intel we had gathered it was built solely for the housing of the Compilation. They used it as a shoe factory for a while, but 'Hush Puppies' went out of business. We managed to get some schematics on its infrastructure."
"The first floor is mainly open," he continued. "At the far end is an entrance to a control room, and on either side is a door to two separate stairwells. Those stairwells stretch three additional floors that aren't much more than wide pathways around the walls of the building. From images of the interior, gathered from when it was a shoe factory, each level spanned the entire building, creating four floored levels. We assume that it was changed around when Ocelot moved in."
"So," Jack thought, "Ocelot will be there?" Otacon shook his head.
"We can't be sure, but we expect several sentries. It holds the most important piece of technology known to man – or high-clearance officers – but that's beside the point." Snake looked at Otacon deafly.
"Several sentries and we're supposed to go through the front door?" Snake shook his head. The mission sounded bad enough considering their employers. "Why don't you take the lead? I'll cover ya." Snake was half-joking, but Otacon's stern face suppressed the laughter.
"I was able to arrange a meeting with NewTech prior to the mission," Otacon claimed. "We outlined the mission and determined what sorts of devices we'd need for every possible scenario. Unfortunately, Mei Ling knows more than me."
"Well, what about the gadgets? What are they?" Snake pursued and Otacon's head dropped.
"Mei Ling has them," he sighed. Snake looked at him blankly. "I'm sorry but we didn't expect any of this to happen." He was right. None of them had any idea the situation would have intensified so quickly. "Anyway, there's no alternative. The only entrances we have are through the front."
"Fortune, I hope you're on our side with this one," Snake muttered, his eyes to the heavens. Then, without any other conversation he turned away. Otacon, sensing the tension, concluded as quickly as he could.
"Otacon, be ready if we need extracted," Jack said. Turning away from him, he looked over Fox and smiled. "You come with us."
"He said…Dante said," Otacon tried, but Jack waved him off.
"As long as we get what he wants, he'll be happy," Snake commented, still looking off toward the warehouse. "Leave the rest up to us. Just be ready," he ended, and Otacon nodded, almost tempted toward a smile.
Then, without a farewell of any kind, Snake, Jack, and Fox walked off. Otacon was left there, his arms at his sides and his mind racing…not with questions of safety or odds…but with questions of himself. Always, he was the one to stand back and to watch. He didn't favor the violence, but he extremely disliked that feeling…that feeling that one always gets when finding they're the butt of a joke, or that they're the one person not invited to the party.
They had their party, and Otacon had his lonesome. And then, lifting his hand from his side, he waved.
"Goodbye."
It was not long before the three had come to the warehouse, its green, purple, and brick red windows shattered and scattered across the sidewalks. Many of them remained, not broken but cracked, and the paint that lathered them allowed no sort of reflection. The majority of the building was made of bricks, but parts of it furnished rows of disheveled siding that were oftentimes crooked. The two mediums made for a terribly obvious transition, and from the looks of the entire Zero District, the building resided in a run-down ghetto of sorts. But, just across the street where New York Plaza One sat, new-age buildings and up-tempo clubs and restaurants cloaked the darkness.
All of the Financial District, (the southern area of Manhattan Island) it seemed, had been renovated into a rough mixture of Dayton, Ohio and the Metropolis. Ever since the fall of the World Trade Center towers, New York City found itself deeper and deeper into the growing hole of society, and the world was returning to its darkest days. The Cold War, a time of continuous tension, appeared to be reentering the spotlight, - its name altered to fit the style of today, but its meaning still the same.
"Ready?" Snake asked. Fox and Jack turned to him, their eyes full and their faces solid and confident. They nodded. Snake let a brief grin escape, and with that he moved quickly to the doors, Jack and Fox following close behind.
Looking back at them for assertion, Snake observed them nodding before taking in a deep breath of air and placing his hand on the doorknob. With the lightest touch, he turned the brass knob and slowly slipped through the gap he had made, hoping no light would find its way inside as he did so.
Fox and Jack followed suit, and when they had closed the door behind them – making sure it was not to slam – they found only an orange glow several tens of meters away. Moving through another set of nearly invisible glass doors, they stopped at Snake's hand gesture – one that they could hardly see in the darkness.
Turning to Jack, he tapped his temple and quickly Jack realized the request. Fiddling with a neural assortment of nanomachines, his view was suddenly lit with a green blaze that defined the area as if under a giant spotlight. Panning the room, his head cocked, he saw no unusually bright areas. None.
Then, there was a flash. The night vision blipped off, and Snake and Jack stepped back rigidly. Looking around, there were no newly sprouted lights, nor was there lightning…or even an evident storm for that matter. But they almost recognized that flash…and it came again before Jack indicated to Snake that there were no identifiable sentries in the area. With that, he started into the middle of the room – quicker than before – his eyes set on the orange glow and the object that bathed in its light.
Stopping before it, he watched…mesmerized. Only when Fox and Jack had cautiously made their way to his side did he understand the image on the monitor.
It was them. And then…there was a mass of sentries around the paths on the second, third, and forth levels. Looking this way and that, he saw no sign of them but there was no doubting their presence. They were being watched, and the camera that watched them was playing itself back before them on the Compilation's monitor. It was like a terrifying reflection, one that you can never come to terms with.
"Lights!" a familiar voice cried, and there was a sudden emergence of orange, its glow engulfing the three as well as another figure that stood opposite them.
From the control room at the opposite end of the warehouse's main floor came a strikingly familiar foe. His boots spoke as they touched the floor, and his hips glimmered, just as his eyes burned with the fire of a thousand treacherous souls. At their surprise, he grinned. "Good day," he said simply, and Jack stumbled back in amazement.
"Ocelot!" Snake cried out. Hearing his name announced before him, Ocelot smiled a dark, evil smile and threw his arms out at his sides as if expecting a hug or introducing some grand parade.
"It's been a long time, Snake," he grinned.
"Not long enough," Snake replied, a fierce hatred easily noticeable in his voice.
"Heh. I won't lie, I feel the same way." Pausing, he gazed around. "Brings back memories, doesn't it? Shadow Moses, the Tanker, Big Shell, Hell's Outpost…we've been through a lot together."
"I wouldn't say together," Snake interjected, bringing an amused smile to Ocelot's face.
"You never did let conversation go dry," Ocelot mused. "I have to say, you were my favorite of the Snakes…a better opponent than they ever were partners. But, its like they say: Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer."
"Hmph…sounds like you mismatched your friends with your enemies. You always shoot the wrong ones." Ocelot cocked his head back in outrageously exaggerated laughter.
"Well," he began again, pulling his pocket watch from the depth of his pant pocket and reading the time, "It is nearly four. No need to drag this out." Pausing, Snake watched. "Soldiers…in the light!"
Like out of a scary 'Twilight Zone' the bodies of nearly two hundred soldiers appeared in the light, their guns gripped tightly to their chests and their nozzles aimed at the sky. They would not attempt to fire unless ordered. Ocelot smiled at Jack's surprise. He'd scanned the entire area with Night Vision and saw nothing. "How?" he panicked.
"Pale Screens," Ocelot answered. "They work nicely at diverting night vision and thermal sights. Specifically assembled infrared terminals disguise the natural radiation of a human. It's something I happened to stumble over at the local Black Market." There was no returning smile, but that odd flashing was emitted again before he continued.
"I regret to inform you that the Compilation's files are in no condition for screening today," he proclaimed, surprising them all with his knowledge of the operation. "And Fox, what are you doing here? You're supposed to be backup." He grinned, and just as he began to turn away Fox bounded for him sword drawn and held at his side.
And as he leaped over the Compilation, finding himself upon Ocelot he forced his arm forward – blade in hand – and struck through the aging man's body. But, when he had followed through Ocelot's side he stepped back in awe.
There was no blood to be shed, and there was no scar to be shown. He simply let his head fall back before a sickening laugh echoed through the cavern- like warehouse. Turning to Fox, he grinned and pulled forth his pocket watch. This time, Fox did not shudder, but when Ocelot's head came up from it he smiled wider than he ever had before.
"Four o'clock," he stated. "Heh…worked like a charm."
"What?!" Fox exclaimed, and Ocelot pointed to the desk on which the Compilation sat. There, they saw a small device, a light on it blinking red. All of them remembered. The flash. The light. The images…it was all so familiar.
The blueprints of CELL had come to Otacon the same way, but it appeared Ocelot was using the same device to relay his own image. He wasn't there. He had left long ago.
"I'm sorry," Ocelot continued, "but I have an appointment I simply cannot miss. The Six Points are waiting for me." Grinning, Snake heard a beep in his ear and reluctantly took the call.
"Yes?" he asked.
"Snake?! He's lying!" Otacon cried.
"Otacon?!" Snake reverberated. "What?!"
"The Six Points aren't there yet! The Colonel told me! They're still on their way!" Otacon was fervently working to get out all that he could as to not detract from Snake's current position, surrounded by several sentries – all heavily armed.
"Solicitor?" Ocelot joked. "And, let me assure you, the Six Points are not 'on their way.' They've been here for the past eighteen hours." Suddenly, the building began to rattle abnormally, and a faint sound filled Snake's ear.
"Chopper?" he exclaimed, and Ocelot nodded. Snake understood.
"There's the decoy," he grinned. "Formal will inform Dante of their expected arrival, as I have all ready told him, and FACtion will escort it down."
'Formal?!' Snake thought. But, the voice, the one that had been synthesized, and the one that Ocelot had spoken to on several accounts…the insider. That was Formal. "What are you talking about?!" Snake yelled.
"Formal has worked with FACtion for years. Lucky for me, Frost has no contact with Dante, so as protection, I used Apocylai to record his and Frost's actions throughout the stages of their mission." So, Frost didn't even know Formal was a double agent. "When you destroyed it, I was forced to contact Formal directly. He's been my inside agent all along, keeping me updated every step of the way."
Snake became enraged. "But as I said," Ocelot continued, "I am short on time. And, as it seems, so are you." Snake sneered at him and gritted his teeth as Jack pulled forth a Hammerli 280. Aiming it at Ocelot, he did not fire. He only watched. "Soldiers," he paused, "kill them."
Just as his last message was breathed, a 'whoosh' of air caught the team's attention and their eyes moved to the ceiling. There, falling from it was a black-clad figure, its identity masked by its speed. The dirty blonde hair that fell back in a ponytail gave away its gender, sure enough.
And then, she landed before the Compilation, her legs bending as she impacted. Surprisingly enough, she stood in an instant and before Ocelot could salute or turn away, she had sent her elbow through the device on the desk, and there was a terrible flash, followed by screeching gunfire.
Snake looked at Jack, but they both knew that there was no way dropping now would save them from two hundred simultaneously fired bullets. That, they knew, was impossible. But, with the sounds, their legs fell under them like instinct and they crashed to the floor, their hands over their heads as a new firearm entered the song.
A Hammerli 280 and a shotgun.
They were fired time and time again, and Fox was above Jack and Snake, shielding them from the miraculous number of bullets that pelted down upon them. At the same time, the woman was sliding a disc into the Compilation, and at the sight of it Snake checked his pocket. Gone.
As quickly as she could, she went through the tens of windows that littered the screen – all-working to complete a different task. The grueling crescendo that left Fox's mouth was painful to hear and the thought of his muscles bending this way and that second after second, millisecond after millisecond…Snake couldn't imagine the pain.
Then, the gunshots grew louder. There was a voice at one point that whispered to Snake, but neither the message nor the voice could be understood. Only the violent cracking of gunfire and the deflection of hundreds of bullets could be heard, along with the occasional grunt of a fallen sentry.
Hurriedly, Snake found his footing and ran to the woman's side, watching as the files were loaded into the Compilation. She turned her head once and smiled before looking back at the monitor, her hands resting on the keyboard in anticipation of the moment the installation would be complete.
"How'd you get my disc?" Snake asked, nearly yelling in her ear. She smiled.
"Don't worry," she said, her voice delicate but rough at the same time – as if that were possible. "Almost done!" she exclaimed, and Snake turned back to see the man firing the shotgun and the Hammerli, but he had no clear view for his trench coat's collar was standing straight up…as was Fox's…and the woman's. "Got it!"
In an instant, the disc popped out and Jack came to Snake's side, grabbing his shoulder. "The sentries are moving through the stairwell! We have to get out!" he cried, and Snake nodded before the woman dropped the disc in his hands.
"Go!" Fox hollered. Snake stopped, watching all three of them. They all wore trench coats and they all held their collars straight up. "Tell Otacon," he said, breathing quickly and heavily, his arms moving faster than anything Snake had ever seen. "He wondered who I was employed for…this is them!" The woman moved off in a blur, jumping to the second level from where she had just stood.
Landing safely, she found herself surrounded by sentries, and with the gunfire diverted from Fox for the moment, he let his arms relax, a sense of urgency still apparent with the evidence of gunfire all around them. "Who are they?!" Snake cried.
Fox looked at him and smiled. "Who are we?" Snake then remembered the shadow that helped him escape Frost's seduction, and Jack remembered the shotgun-armed man in the elevator shaft. To their left stood that man, but as they turned to him again, he looked over his shoulder only his eyes peering over the collar. And with that, Fox found a spare M4 on the floor and tossed it into Snake's arms.
"We're the Romantics," Fox smiled. Turning as if on instinct, he raised his blade again t deflect another bullet. Then, he was staring at Snake again, his face stern but full of enjoyment. "Get out of here. Go to the café. We'll meet up again, but you have to follow the trail."
"That's exactly what Ocelot wants us to do!" Snake exclaimed and Fox chuckled.
"Then do it," he said. "Manhattan will be in pieces by the end of the day if you don't go." Snake reluctantly nodded and then, resting his hand on Fox's shoulder, smiled. Shrugging him off and snickering, Fox turned back to the enemy in an instant and deflected another wave of bullets as the man and woman went in from either side of the second floor, closing in on the sentries.
Then, the doors from the stairwell busted open and at the sight, Snake and Jack started for the door, their legs pumping and their arms waving back and forth, side to side. Both of them were wondering questions they had no answers for. Who was that man? Who was that woman? The Romantics? Follow the trail? Coming to the doors, several sentries dropped behind them but they didn't stop.
Twisting around and running backwards, they fired continuously: Jack with his Hammerli and Snake with the M4 Carbine. Four men fell before them, the three Romantics brawling with the innumerable foes. And then, pushing through the glass doors and the entrance doors, the light washed over them…the sun's rays.
And when Snake and Jack looked up they saw a Jeep halt before them, the driver shifting the gears and putting it into neutral. Otacon smiled at them. "Shotgun!" Jack yelled, and to Snake's disappointment he was forced into the back, setting his newly-acquired M4 at his side.
"Where's Fox?" Otacon questioned, and off in the distance Snake spotted the chopper floating above a street, descending slowly.
"He's with his employers," he said, smiling. And Otacon turned to him, the sounds of gunfire still breaking the barriers of the warehouse and the wailing cries of Fox erupting in their ears.
"You know them?" Otacon questioned, the jeep beginning to lurch forward and then cutting through the wind like a knife. Otacon waited and Snake thanked them silently…subtly. He nodded.
"The Romantics."
AUTHOR'S NOTE: After this rather MASSIVE chapter, PLEASE review! And, don't worry, there is surprisingly enough, much more to come. Thanks!!
The warehouse was lit well. The ceiling's lights were dim, but those that lined the floor were shining brilliantly. From Ocelot's view, there could be seen no soldiers. The security of the Zero District was insanely stealthy.
"Hmm," he growled. In his chair he sat, one hand supporting his chin and the other rhythmically tapping the desk. On the Compilation's monitor was a picture of Battery Park. Several forms littered a small area, and a helicopter was slowly landing in their midst. Around them were several armored vehicles and a jeep. And as he listened, he heard the words he wanted to here. "The Zero District," he grinned before putting his hand to his ear and waiting.
"Yes?" a voice called. It was synthesized, just as before. Ocelot smiled when he heard it.
"Anxious?" he asked. There was a sigh on the other end.
"Thought I saw Him coming back," the voice claimed. "Snake and the others should be on their way soon. You should keep your guard up." Ocelot nodded.
"I'm watching their conversation now," he stated. "And, to avoid further conclusion, how about we use His real name?"
The other voice wavered slightly. "I'm afraid I don't know it, sir."
"Dante," Ocelot quickly clarified. "Dante Borschnedst. Born in Russia – May 13th, 1984. He moved to Australia in 2003 and joined FACtion in 2012, becoming its commander in 2014. His area of expertise is computer and software engineering, and is a certified helicopter pilot. Tell me; Why do I know more about him than you?" There was an uneasy silence.
"Sir, I believe you hired me because of my position in FACtion, not because of my knowledge of his personal history." There was a sense of defiance in the voice, even as it was synthesized. "And sir, I will continue to gather as much information as I am able, but right now all I can tell you is that they are on their way."
Ocelot swallowed hard. "I've made arrangements. The Six Points will be on their way soon enough." There was a grunt of acknowledgement from the voice opposite Ocelot. "Try and keep Dante occupied until they have made it to Embassy Square."
"Do not worry, sir," the voice returned. "They will not be bothered by FACtion." With that, Ocelot ended the transmission and stretched, setting his feet on the desk before him. He seemed almost discouraged – a grim look of anger on his face.
"All soldiers," he began, clearing his throat, "in the light!" With that, the entire warehouse was lit and every hidden soldier came forth out of the shadows.
There were three floors above the first, but all were fairly wide paths that grabbed against the walls tightly. Stepping from nearly every two feet of the paths was a soldier equipped with an M4 Carbine while some carried sniper rifles that were almost equal their heights. When all had shown themselves Ocelot found his footing and pushed his chair under the desk, turning to them – his arms outstretched.
"We should be expecting visitors," he proclaimed, smiling wide. "I want all but the Compilation-accent lights out, and the Pale Screens activated. All units are to remain behind the Pale Screens until I have requested your assistance. Is this clear?" There was a nod from every soldier in the following second, and Ocelot's smile stretched clear to the sides of his face. "Good…lights!"
The warehouse was swept clean of its momentary glow, and only two objects remained lit by several lights that continued to burn at their feet. One was the Compilation, and the other was Ocelot.
Slowly, he stepped over to the Compilation, and he watched as Dante sat in his jeep. "Get a move on," Dante had said, and as Ocelot heard those words his grin shined eerily in the shadowy lights beneath him. And then, with the window exited, he chuckled.
"I need silent transportation ready immediately."
The sun was beginning to fall even at such a young hour. It had yet to reach 4:00, and all ready the sun was beginning its descent. Still, it remained bold and brilliant, and it would be hours before it had fallen beneath the horizon and gone to light another thousand cities.
Passing onto the sidewalk from the softened ground the four had become rather accustomed to, they noticed subtleness in the crowds. The wailing cries and roars of the angry and sad had died away, and what remained was a mass of depressed statues, their skin frozen in marble and their tears like bullets of fire, licking up their last ounces of strength. It was a sight that neither Snake, Otacon, Fox, or Jack wished to witness, but it was one that they could not avoid. And in the silence were the waning fire engines that burned the streets under them as they scrambled to the scene. With FACtion in disarray, the police stations had been left unguarded as well as the firehouses. But, the people were still stranded for the will to move was no longer in their possession, and were they to attempt crossing a bridge it could fall beneath their feet. There was no safe place.
"When is the government going to intervene?" Jack asked himself, but found that he had not thought but spoken. Snake did not turn to him, but spoke quietly as to not detonate a citywide panic at his words.
"The media is being restricted," he answered. "Only Manhattan knows what's happening. Even if someone else were to find the story their broadcast would be weeded out before they got a chance to air it." He looked ahead; no buildings to his right…only a giant sea and a railing to hold him back. "Ocelot is doing it."
Jack's head sprung up like a 'Jack-in-the-Box' and his arms quickly flew to his sides. "Why would he be censoring the news?" Snake stopped, and Otacon and Fox with him. Then, pivoting on his heel he came face to face with Jack, his more stern than the young one's.
"Ocelot doesn't want the entire world knowing about the Patriots! If he weren't immediately taken care of by the other men among his ranks, every government in the world would go to hell! He'd be left to lead a hundred dying nations, and even though we know he wants his name on every billboard and his face plastered on every street light, he wouldn't let it go public if he had enemies with power." Snake stepped back and turned away from the others in thought.
"No?" Jack tested him. "I think he wants it to go public, and I think FACtion does too. They want him exposed, but the only way he can beat them is to do want they don't want. So, he doesn't go live with the story today, but what's stopping him tomorrow? With his enemies good and dead, he has nothing to worry about."
"Then why didn't he go live when he first found out what he really was?" Otacon began, thinking back as he spoke. "I don't think FACtion is a threat to him. He has all of the United States military affairs in his palm, but if he let the people know there's no way he could depend on the loyalty of every member of the United States military…and he certainly couldn't go up against the world with a pair of revolvers."
"I dunno," Snake commented. "He's pretty skilled with those." He laughed and turned to Otacon who was surprisingly serious. His smile melted in an instant. "Hmph," Snake grunted, turning away again. "We can't worry about that now, anyway. It's a little after three. We need this done by four. That's the mission deadline." Otacon nodded, respecting Snake's, but they were all disappointed not to see the conversation to its end.
"A little after three?" Jack asked. "How can you tell?"
"The sun," Fox interjected, beating Snake to the answer. "You spend enough time on the field and the sky starts looking like a big clock." Jack seemed amused by the answer, but at its end Snake and Otacon had started off again, and he and Fox were quick to follow.
From then on, they made the journey in silence. Snake was continually checking his pocket for the disc he'd been given and Fox's hands were stretching in anticipation for a brawl. Jack and Otacon were somewhat absent from the situation, their minds concerned for other things. But, they were all brought down to earth when they stopped just a block north of the warehouse, which was easily noticeable from where they stood. Stopping, they turned to each other to clarify any misunderstandings before heading in.
"Snake," Otacon began, "you and Jack will go in. We don't have any way of reaching the roof, so we cant very well make a descent. That leaves you with only one infiltration method."
"Through the front door," Snake suggested. Otacon nodded uneasily.
"Right," he confirmed. "That's not very reasonable, but there's not much else we can do."
"So, there aren't any fire escapes?" Jack questioned. Otacon shook his head vaguely.
"Shouldn't be," he stated. "From the intel we had gathered it was built solely for the housing of the Compilation. They used it as a shoe factory for a while, but 'Hush Puppies' went out of business. We managed to get some schematics on its infrastructure."
"The first floor is mainly open," he continued. "At the far end is an entrance to a control room, and on either side is a door to two separate stairwells. Those stairwells stretch three additional floors that aren't much more than wide pathways around the walls of the building. From images of the interior, gathered from when it was a shoe factory, each level spanned the entire building, creating four floored levels. We assume that it was changed around when Ocelot moved in."
"So," Jack thought, "Ocelot will be there?" Otacon shook his head.
"We can't be sure, but we expect several sentries. It holds the most important piece of technology known to man – or high-clearance officers – but that's beside the point." Snake looked at Otacon deafly.
"Several sentries and we're supposed to go through the front door?" Snake shook his head. The mission sounded bad enough considering their employers. "Why don't you take the lead? I'll cover ya." Snake was half-joking, but Otacon's stern face suppressed the laughter.
"I was able to arrange a meeting with NewTech prior to the mission," Otacon claimed. "We outlined the mission and determined what sorts of devices we'd need for every possible scenario. Unfortunately, Mei Ling knows more than me."
"Well, what about the gadgets? What are they?" Snake pursued and Otacon's head dropped.
"Mei Ling has them," he sighed. Snake looked at him blankly. "I'm sorry but we didn't expect any of this to happen." He was right. None of them had any idea the situation would have intensified so quickly. "Anyway, there's no alternative. The only entrances we have are through the front."
"Fortune, I hope you're on our side with this one," Snake muttered, his eyes to the heavens. Then, without any other conversation he turned away. Otacon, sensing the tension, concluded as quickly as he could.
"Otacon, be ready if we need extracted," Jack said. Turning away from him, he looked over Fox and smiled. "You come with us."
"He said…Dante said," Otacon tried, but Jack waved him off.
"As long as we get what he wants, he'll be happy," Snake commented, still looking off toward the warehouse. "Leave the rest up to us. Just be ready," he ended, and Otacon nodded, almost tempted toward a smile.
Then, without a farewell of any kind, Snake, Jack, and Fox walked off. Otacon was left there, his arms at his sides and his mind racing…not with questions of safety or odds…but with questions of himself. Always, he was the one to stand back and to watch. He didn't favor the violence, but he extremely disliked that feeling…that feeling that one always gets when finding they're the butt of a joke, or that they're the one person not invited to the party.
They had their party, and Otacon had his lonesome. And then, lifting his hand from his side, he waved.
"Goodbye."
It was not long before the three had come to the warehouse, its green, purple, and brick red windows shattered and scattered across the sidewalks. Many of them remained, not broken but cracked, and the paint that lathered them allowed no sort of reflection. The majority of the building was made of bricks, but parts of it furnished rows of disheveled siding that were oftentimes crooked. The two mediums made for a terribly obvious transition, and from the looks of the entire Zero District, the building resided in a run-down ghetto of sorts. But, just across the street where New York Plaza One sat, new-age buildings and up-tempo clubs and restaurants cloaked the darkness.
All of the Financial District, (the southern area of Manhattan Island) it seemed, had been renovated into a rough mixture of Dayton, Ohio and the Metropolis. Ever since the fall of the World Trade Center towers, New York City found itself deeper and deeper into the growing hole of society, and the world was returning to its darkest days. The Cold War, a time of continuous tension, appeared to be reentering the spotlight, - its name altered to fit the style of today, but its meaning still the same.
"Ready?" Snake asked. Fox and Jack turned to him, their eyes full and their faces solid and confident. They nodded. Snake let a brief grin escape, and with that he moved quickly to the doors, Jack and Fox following close behind.
Looking back at them for assertion, Snake observed them nodding before taking in a deep breath of air and placing his hand on the doorknob. With the lightest touch, he turned the brass knob and slowly slipped through the gap he had made, hoping no light would find its way inside as he did so.
Fox and Jack followed suit, and when they had closed the door behind them – making sure it was not to slam – they found only an orange glow several tens of meters away. Moving through another set of nearly invisible glass doors, they stopped at Snake's hand gesture – one that they could hardly see in the darkness.
Turning to Jack, he tapped his temple and quickly Jack realized the request. Fiddling with a neural assortment of nanomachines, his view was suddenly lit with a green blaze that defined the area as if under a giant spotlight. Panning the room, his head cocked, he saw no unusually bright areas. None.
Then, there was a flash. The night vision blipped off, and Snake and Jack stepped back rigidly. Looking around, there were no newly sprouted lights, nor was there lightning…or even an evident storm for that matter. But they almost recognized that flash…and it came again before Jack indicated to Snake that there were no identifiable sentries in the area. With that, he started into the middle of the room – quicker than before – his eyes set on the orange glow and the object that bathed in its light.
Stopping before it, he watched…mesmerized. Only when Fox and Jack had cautiously made their way to his side did he understand the image on the monitor.
It was them. And then…there was a mass of sentries around the paths on the second, third, and forth levels. Looking this way and that, he saw no sign of them but there was no doubting their presence. They were being watched, and the camera that watched them was playing itself back before them on the Compilation's monitor. It was like a terrifying reflection, one that you can never come to terms with.
"Lights!" a familiar voice cried, and there was a sudden emergence of orange, its glow engulfing the three as well as another figure that stood opposite them.
From the control room at the opposite end of the warehouse's main floor came a strikingly familiar foe. His boots spoke as they touched the floor, and his hips glimmered, just as his eyes burned with the fire of a thousand treacherous souls. At their surprise, he grinned. "Good day," he said simply, and Jack stumbled back in amazement.
"Ocelot!" Snake cried out. Hearing his name announced before him, Ocelot smiled a dark, evil smile and threw his arms out at his sides as if expecting a hug or introducing some grand parade.
"It's been a long time, Snake," he grinned.
"Not long enough," Snake replied, a fierce hatred easily noticeable in his voice.
"Heh. I won't lie, I feel the same way." Pausing, he gazed around. "Brings back memories, doesn't it? Shadow Moses, the Tanker, Big Shell, Hell's Outpost…we've been through a lot together."
"I wouldn't say together," Snake interjected, bringing an amused smile to Ocelot's face.
"You never did let conversation go dry," Ocelot mused. "I have to say, you were my favorite of the Snakes…a better opponent than they ever were partners. But, its like they say: Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer."
"Hmph…sounds like you mismatched your friends with your enemies. You always shoot the wrong ones." Ocelot cocked his head back in outrageously exaggerated laughter.
"Well," he began again, pulling his pocket watch from the depth of his pant pocket and reading the time, "It is nearly four. No need to drag this out." Pausing, Snake watched. "Soldiers…in the light!"
Like out of a scary 'Twilight Zone' the bodies of nearly two hundred soldiers appeared in the light, their guns gripped tightly to their chests and their nozzles aimed at the sky. They would not attempt to fire unless ordered. Ocelot smiled at Jack's surprise. He'd scanned the entire area with Night Vision and saw nothing. "How?" he panicked.
"Pale Screens," Ocelot answered. "They work nicely at diverting night vision and thermal sights. Specifically assembled infrared terminals disguise the natural radiation of a human. It's something I happened to stumble over at the local Black Market." There was no returning smile, but that odd flashing was emitted again before he continued.
"I regret to inform you that the Compilation's files are in no condition for screening today," he proclaimed, surprising them all with his knowledge of the operation. "And Fox, what are you doing here? You're supposed to be backup." He grinned, and just as he began to turn away Fox bounded for him sword drawn and held at his side.
And as he leaped over the Compilation, finding himself upon Ocelot he forced his arm forward – blade in hand – and struck through the aging man's body. But, when he had followed through Ocelot's side he stepped back in awe.
There was no blood to be shed, and there was no scar to be shown. He simply let his head fall back before a sickening laugh echoed through the cavern- like warehouse. Turning to Fox, he grinned and pulled forth his pocket watch. This time, Fox did not shudder, but when Ocelot's head came up from it he smiled wider than he ever had before.
"Four o'clock," he stated. "Heh…worked like a charm."
"What?!" Fox exclaimed, and Ocelot pointed to the desk on which the Compilation sat. There, they saw a small device, a light on it blinking red. All of them remembered. The flash. The light. The images…it was all so familiar.
The blueprints of CELL had come to Otacon the same way, but it appeared Ocelot was using the same device to relay his own image. He wasn't there. He had left long ago.
"I'm sorry," Ocelot continued, "but I have an appointment I simply cannot miss. The Six Points are waiting for me." Grinning, Snake heard a beep in his ear and reluctantly took the call.
"Yes?" he asked.
"Snake?! He's lying!" Otacon cried.
"Otacon?!" Snake reverberated. "What?!"
"The Six Points aren't there yet! The Colonel told me! They're still on their way!" Otacon was fervently working to get out all that he could as to not detract from Snake's current position, surrounded by several sentries – all heavily armed.
"Solicitor?" Ocelot joked. "And, let me assure you, the Six Points are not 'on their way.' They've been here for the past eighteen hours." Suddenly, the building began to rattle abnormally, and a faint sound filled Snake's ear.
"Chopper?" he exclaimed, and Ocelot nodded. Snake understood.
"There's the decoy," he grinned. "Formal will inform Dante of their expected arrival, as I have all ready told him, and FACtion will escort it down."
'Formal?!' Snake thought. But, the voice, the one that had been synthesized, and the one that Ocelot had spoken to on several accounts…the insider. That was Formal. "What are you talking about?!" Snake yelled.
"Formal has worked with FACtion for years. Lucky for me, Frost has no contact with Dante, so as protection, I used Apocylai to record his and Frost's actions throughout the stages of their mission." So, Frost didn't even know Formal was a double agent. "When you destroyed it, I was forced to contact Formal directly. He's been my inside agent all along, keeping me updated every step of the way."
Snake became enraged. "But as I said," Ocelot continued, "I am short on time. And, as it seems, so are you." Snake sneered at him and gritted his teeth as Jack pulled forth a Hammerli 280. Aiming it at Ocelot, he did not fire. He only watched. "Soldiers," he paused, "kill them."
Just as his last message was breathed, a 'whoosh' of air caught the team's attention and their eyes moved to the ceiling. There, falling from it was a black-clad figure, its identity masked by its speed. The dirty blonde hair that fell back in a ponytail gave away its gender, sure enough.
And then, she landed before the Compilation, her legs bending as she impacted. Surprisingly enough, she stood in an instant and before Ocelot could salute or turn away, she had sent her elbow through the device on the desk, and there was a terrible flash, followed by screeching gunfire.
Snake looked at Jack, but they both knew that there was no way dropping now would save them from two hundred simultaneously fired bullets. That, they knew, was impossible. But, with the sounds, their legs fell under them like instinct and they crashed to the floor, their hands over their heads as a new firearm entered the song.
A Hammerli 280 and a shotgun.
They were fired time and time again, and Fox was above Jack and Snake, shielding them from the miraculous number of bullets that pelted down upon them. At the same time, the woman was sliding a disc into the Compilation, and at the sight of it Snake checked his pocket. Gone.
As quickly as she could, she went through the tens of windows that littered the screen – all-working to complete a different task. The grueling crescendo that left Fox's mouth was painful to hear and the thought of his muscles bending this way and that second after second, millisecond after millisecond…Snake couldn't imagine the pain.
Then, the gunshots grew louder. There was a voice at one point that whispered to Snake, but neither the message nor the voice could be understood. Only the violent cracking of gunfire and the deflection of hundreds of bullets could be heard, along with the occasional grunt of a fallen sentry.
Hurriedly, Snake found his footing and ran to the woman's side, watching as the files were loaded into the Compilation. She turned her head once and smiled before looking back at the monitor, her hands resting on the keyboard in anticipation of the moment the installation would be complete.
"How'd you get my disc?" Snake asked, nearly yelling in her ear. She smiled.
"Don't worry," she said, her voice delicate but rough at the same time – as if that were possible. "Almost done!" she exclaimed, and Snake turned back to see the man firing the shotgun and the Hammerli, but he had no clear view for his trench coat's collar was standing straight up…as was Fox's…and the woman's. "Got it!"
In an instant, the disc popped out and Jack came to Snake's side, grabbing his shoulder. "The sentries are moving through the stairwell! We have to get out!" he cried, and Snake nodded before the woman dropped the disc in his hands.
"Go!" Fox hollered. Snake stopped, watching all three of them. They all wore trench coats and they all held their collars straight up. "Tell Otacon," he said, breathing quickly and heavily, his arms moving faster than anything Snake had ever seen. "He wondered who I was employed for…this is them!" The woman moved off in a blur, jumping to the second level from where she had just stood.
Landing safely, she found herself surrounded by sentries, and with the gunfire diverted from Fox for the moment, he let his arms relax, a sense of urgency still apparent with the evidence of gunfire all around them. "Who are they?!" Snake cried.
Fox looked at him and smiled. "Who are we?" Snake then remembered the shadow that helped him escape Frost's seduction, and Jack remembered the shotgun-armed man in the elevator shaft. To their left stood that man, but as they turned to him again, he looked over his shoulder only his eyes peering over the collar. And with that, Fox found a spare M4 on the floor and tossed it into Snake's arms.
"We're the Romantics," Fox smiled. Turning as if on instinct, he raised his blade again t deflect another bullet. Then, he was staring at Snake again, his face stern but full of enjoyment. "Get out of here. Go to the café. We'll meet up again, but you have to follow the trail."
"That's exactly what Ocelot wants us to do!" Snake exclaimed and Fox chuckled.
"Then do it," he said. "Manhattan will be in pieces by the end of the day if you don't go." Snake reluctantly nodded and then, resting his hand on Fox's shoulder, smiled. Shrugging him off and snickering, Fox turned back to the enemy in an instant and deflected another wave of bullets as the man and woman went in from either side of the second floor, closing in on the sentries.
Then, the doors from the stairwell busted open and at the sight, Snake and Jack started for the door, their legs pumping and their arms waving back and forth, side to side. Both of them were wondering questions they had no answers for. Who was that man? Who was that woman? The Romantics? Follow the trail? Coming to the doors, several sentries dropped behind them but they didn't stop.
Twisting around and running backwards, they fired continuously: Jack with his Hammerli and Snake with the M4 Carbine. Four men fell before them, the three Romantics brawling with the innumerable foes. And then, pushing through the glass doors and the entrance doors, the light washed over them…the sun's rays.
And when Snake and Jack looked up they saw a Jeep halt before them, the driver shifting the gears and putting it into neutral. Otacon smiled at them. "Shotgun!" Jack yelled, and to Snake's disappointment he was forced into the back, setting his newly-acquired M4 at his side.
"Where's Fox?" Otacon questioned, and off in the distance Snake spotted the chopper floating above a street, descending slowly.
"He's with his employers," he said, smiling. And Otacon turned to him, the sounds of gunfire still breaking the barriers of the warehouse and the wailing cries of Fox erupting in their ears.
"You know them?" Otacon questioned, the jeep beginning to lurch forward and then cutting through the wind like a knife. Otacon waited and Snake thanked them silently…subtly. He nodded.
"The Romantics."
AUTHOR'S NOTE: After this rather MASSIVE chapter, PLEASE review! And, don't worry, there is surprisingly enough, much more to come. Thanks!!