Chapter Four: Betrayal
President Matthews was not a patient man. He waited on hold for ten minutes before handing the phone to Pease AFB in New Hampshire to an aide and calling the Vice President on another line. He waited there on hold for another five minutes; Robert Mulgrew was on vacation in Minnesota, and was not easily reachable by phone. By the time he got Mulgrew on the line, the call to Pease had been completed. As the aide handed the phone to him, Matthews shoved the other one into his hand. "Here, brief the VP," he said, before turning his full attention to Pease.
"I assume I'm speaking to Destiny?" he said. The other end was silent for a moment before a man's voice came over, strong and vibrant. "Yes, Mr. President."
"You know about the situation in Manhattan."
"Yes, Mr. President."
"We have to have it resolved. The Wisemen's Committee—"
"Don't say it over the phone, Mr. President."
Matthews chided himself. "Of course, Destiny."
"What do you want FOXHOUND to do about the situation, President Matthews?"
"I want you to assemble a three man team, comprising of you and the best two members of FOXHOUND you have. You are to infiltrate the Devil's Attic and kill Liquid Snake and Revolver Ocelot."
"The Genome Army?"
"They'll be handled easily enough by Snake."
There was surprise in Destiny's voice when he spoke: "Solid Snake? He's there?"
"Of course."
"Should we… take care of him, as well."
Matthews' voice became cold. "No. Under no circumstances is Solid Snake even to know your men are there. Understood?"
"Yes."
"You will leave immediately, and take a plane to JFK. From there, you'll be given your gear and transported to the Empire State Building. Your COA (course of action) is entirely up to you, but it must end in the deaths of Revolver Ocelot, Liquid Snake, and the resolution of the incident."
"Understood."
"Do your job, Destiny, if you ever want to see the outside of Pease ever again. Got it?"
"Yes."
Matthews hung up and turned, in time to get a memo thrust into his hands. As he read it, his eyes widened. "Balls," he said. Turning to the aide who had been talking to the Vice President, he said, "get the Joint Chiefs of Staff in here, now. And clear these people out." As the room emptied, Matthews considered the problem before him. What he was about to do would be going against the la-li-lu-le-lo's orders, but how could they have known the Chinese would slip a nuclear sub through the blockade and get within range of the West Coast?
* * *
At Pease Air Force Base in New Hampshire, Destiny hung up the phone and turned to the guard. "Get me Tank and Vulture," he said. The guard nodded and left. Sitting down on his chair, the only padded piece of furniture the FOXHOUNDs were allowed, Destiny sighed. This mission would result in the death of himself, Vulture, and Tank. There was no way around it. The Patriots were using them to resolve the situation and institute a cover-up.
It was getting harder to cover-up things these days. How could you cover up a huge battle fortress around 12 square blocks in area slamming into lower Manhattan? How could you conceal Revolver Ocelot, of all people, overriding all signals and broadcasting his threat to blow a chunk of Long Island off the map on national television, with at least 40 million people watching?
The news coverage had been intense and quick. Tom Brokaw, Dan Rather, Peter Jennings (Destiny always wondered why they hadn't retired yet) had been quickly flown from New York to Philadelphia, and were talking and talking and talking, live video of New York's skyline as the background. As if the terrorists would really detonate the nuke. Destiny had found that, in over twenty years of fighting terrorists in "black ops," that the bad guys, in the end, didn't have the guts to pull the trigger, push the button, because invariably the nuke was right beside them and they didn't want to die any more than they wanted to get caught.
The only time that hadn't proven true was September 11th, of course. Destiny had been part of the Mossad back then, the Israeli intelligence agency. Best in the world, they'd bragged, and Destiny'd found out they were right. The suicide bombings? Fanatics. The dangerous ones were the guys who wanted to live. Destiny had killed more than his share of them during his time in Israel.
The phone rang again. Destiny picked it up. Who could it be? "Hello?" he asked warily.
"Hello." The word was spoken in Hebrew, and that was all that Destiny needed to know. "Commander," he said, also in Hebrew. "You have a plan?"
"Of course we do," he said. "We are reviving the Hawks. We want you and your team to come over to us."
"I'd like nothing more than that," Destiny said, "but I can't do anything until we're in Manhattan."
"Understood. Also, our government would like to thank you for the Metal Gear RAY plans you gave us. You will be rewarded once you land at Ben- Gurion airport."
"After the mission."
"Yes. After the mission. We have forty RAYs off the coast of Long Island, waiting to pick you up and cover your escape."
"I got it. We'll be there."
"Good luck, Destiny."
As the Mossad man on the other line hung up, Destiny brightened as he saw Tank and Vulture coming down the hall toward him. Yes, he was getting out of here. Yes, he was finally going home.
* * *
As people all across America stayed glued to their TVs, at home, school, or work, the images of Dan Rather and others were broken into, once again, by Revolver Ocelot. "To show the rulers of this country that we mean business, we have arranged a… demonstration."
The images of the subway massacre were transmitted all over the world, and most people who saw them were shocked. But others… others laughed at how impotent the Unites States really was, and realized how easily their plans could also come to fruition. The smarter ones also realized they had to wait and see if Ocelot's plan worked, or if it went crashing down in flames. "Our demands are: The body of a FOXHOUND operative, Decoy Octopus; the newest Metal Gear design from the Chinese, and the vaccine for a virus developed by your own government: FOXDIE. That is all. Have a nice lunch, America."
This time, the reaction was more muted. Most people expressed outrage, outrage that this could happen and outrage that apparently nothing was being done to stop it. Once again, the government's phone system went down.
And sitting in a parlor in a café in London, the man who was supposed to be dead smiled. Outer Heaven was close. So close.
* * *
Snake watched as Raiden, or White Devil as he was now being called, was escorted by Raymond back into the station. "Well, Jack, what do you think of our little operation here?"
"Sloppy," Raiden answered. "And its either Raiden or White Devil, not Jack. I left that behind me."
Raymond's face fell. "Sloppy?" he said. "How so?"
"For starters," Raiden said, "Solid Snake is here."
"Snake? Here? Don't be ridiculous."
"Your men already know. One of them's been killed. But you don't. Pretty inefficient, Commander."
Slowly crawling out of the ventilation shaft, Snake put his FAMAS on his back and pulled out his SOCOM. Raiden was only about thirty meters away, he couldn't miss… there was no way he could miss…
Snake pulled the trigger. The noise seemed deafening, a crashing roar emitting from the gun as the bullet screamed out of the barrel. Everyone turned toward him, and he could hear someone shouting, "there he is! After him!" But he didn't notice, all his focus was on Raiden.
Raiden was focusing on Snake, too. He pulled out his sword and knocked the bullet away, all in a fraction of a second. Then he pulled out an M4 from his trench coat on the ground and began spraying the area with bullets, causing both Snake and the Genome Soldiers to put their heads down. "I really need to find a SOCOM Suppressor," Snake muttered as he ran behind a series of wooden crates, bullets tearing into them and sending wood chips flying everywhere. "Raiden has gotten a mite better with that sword."
[Not the time to be giving respect to your enemies, Snake. Get out of there.]
"I know that," Snake said, turning for a moment to fire back, catching a Genome Soldier in the chest with a burst of three bullets. The man fell backwards, blood spurting from his mouth.
"Don't let him get away!" Raiden yelled. Snake found himself starting at a large steel door, leading to a storage area, it read. "Otacon, I need door B12-9843 opened, now!" He yelled, "and then locked again on my signal!"
[I'm on it, Snake.]
"Well, get on it a bit faster," Snake yelled as he pulled out his FAMAS and raked the oncoming terrorists with fire. They fell, some dead, others taking cover. Snake heard the door open behind him. He dashed in. "Now, Otacon!" he yelled.
The door closed. In the complete darkness, Snake struggled to get the NVGs on. Then he stopped. "Who's there?" he said.
The sound of laughter echoed throughout the room, followed by heavy breathing. "I think you'll remember me from this," a voice said.
"'Five today… or rather, six?'"
Snake snarled. "Blood-sucker," he said, fitting the Night Vision Goggles over his head. The room came into focus, in varying shades of green, black, and yellow.
"I'm glad you remember me," Vamp said, as Snake looked frantically around the room, trying to find him. "As I told your little friend Jack, now my little friend Jack, I suppose," he said thoughtfully. "Show me what you've got!"
Can Snake defeat Vamp in the dark, even with the NVGs? What about Destiny and the Israeli Mossad? And what's up with Raiden? Find out, in about 25 more chapters or so :p.
President Matthews was not a patient man. He waited on hold for ten minutes before handing the phone to Pease AFB in New Hampshire to an aide and calling the Vice President on another line. He waited there on hold for another five minutes; Robert Mulgrew was on vacation in Minnesota, and was not easily reachable by phone. By the time he got Mulgrew on the line, the call to Pease had been completed. As the aide handed the phone to him, Matthews shoved the other one into his hand. "Here, brief the VP," he said, before turning his full attention to Pease.
"I assume I'm speaking to Destiny?" he said. The other end was silent for a moment before a man's voice came over, strong and vibrant. "Yes, Mr. President."
"You know about the situation in Manhattan."
"Yes, Mr. President."
"We have to have it resolved. The Wisemen's Committee—"
"Don't say it over the phone, Mr. President."
Matthews chided himself. "Of course, Destiny."
"What do you want FOXHOUND to do about the situation, President Matthews?"
"I want you to assemble a three man team, comprising of you and the best two members of FOXHOUND you have. You are to infiltrate the Devil's Attic and kill Liquid Snake and Revolver Ocelot."
"The Genome Army?"
"They'll be handled easily enough by Snake."
There was surprise in Destiny's voice when he spoke: "Solid Snake? He's there?"
"Of course."
"Should we… take care of him, as well."
Matthews' voice became cold. "No. Under no circumstances is Solid Snake even to know your men are there. Understood?"
"Yes."
"You will leave immediately, and take a plane to JFK. From there, you'll be given your gear and transported to the Empire State Building. Your COA (course of action) is entirely up to you, but it must end in the deaths of Revolver Ocelot, Liquid Snake, and the resolution of the incident."
"Understood."
"Do your job, Destiny, if you ever want to see the outside of Pease ever again. Got it?"
"Yes."
Matthews hung up and turned, in time to get a memo thrust into his hands. As he read it, his eyes widened. "Balls," he said. Turning to the aide who had been talking to the Vice President, he said, "get the Joint Chiefs of Staff in here, now. And clear these people out." As the room emptied, Matthews considered the problem before him. What he was about to do would be going against the la-li-lu-le-lo's orders, but how could they have known the Chinese would slip a nuclear sub through the blockade and get within range of the West Coast?
* * *
At Pease Air Force Base in New Hampshire, Destiny hung up the phone and turned to the guard. "Get me Tank and Vulture," he said. The guard nodded and left. Sitting down on his chair, the only padded piece of furniture the FOXHOUNDs were allowed, Destiny sighed. This mission would result in the death of himself, Vulture, and Tank. There was no way around it. The Patriots were using them to resolve the situation and institute a cover-up.
It was getting harder to cover-up things these days. How could you cover up a huge battle fortress around 12 square blocks in area slamming into lower Manhattan? How could you conceal Revolver Ocelot, of all people, overriding all signals and broadcasting his threat to blow a chunk of Long Island off the map on national television, with at least 40 million people watching?
The news coverage had been intense and quick. Tom Brokaw, Dan Rather, Peter Jennings (Destiny always wondered why they hadn't retired yet) had been quickly flown from New York to Philadelphia, and were talking and talking and talking, live video of New York's skyline as the background. As if the terrorists would really detonate the nuke. Destiny had found that, in over twenty years of fighting terrorists in "black ops," that the bad guys, in the end, didn't have the guts to pull the trigger, push the button, because invariably the nuke was right beside them and they didn't want to die any more than they wanted to get caught.
The only time that hadn't proven true was September 11th, of course. Destiny had been part of the Mossad back then, the Israeli intelligence agency. Best in the world, they'd bragged, and Destiny'd found out they were right. The suicide bombings? Fanatics. The dangerous ones were the guys who wanted to live. Destiny had killed more than his share of them during his time in Israel.
The phone rang again. Destiny picked it up. Who could it be? "Hello?" he asked warily.
"Hello." The word was spoken in Hebrew, and that was all that Destiny needed to know. "Commander," he said, also in Hebrew. "You have a plan?"
"Of course we do," he said. "We are reviving the Hawks. We want you and your team to come over to us."
"I'd like nothing more than that," Destiny said, "but I can't do anything until we're in Manhattan."
"Understood. Also, our government would like to thank you for the Metal Gear RAY plans you gave us. You will be rewarded once you land at Ben- Gurion airport."
"After the mission."
"Yes. After the mission. We have forty RAYs off the coast of Long Island, waiting to pick you up and cover your escape."
"I got it. We'll be there."
"Good luck, Destiny."
As the Mossad man on the other line hung up, Destiny brightened as he saw Tank and Vulture coming down the hall toward him. Yes, he was getting out of here. Yes, he was finally going home.
* * *
As people all across America stayed glued to their TVs, at home, school, or work, the images of Dan Rather and others were broken into, once again, by Revolver Ocelot. "To show the rulers of this country that we mean business, we have arranged a… demonstration."
The images of the subway massacre were transmitted all over the world, and most people who saw them were shocked. But others… others laughed at how impotent the Unites States really was, and realized how easily their plans could also come to fruition. The smarter ones also realized they had to wait and see if Ocelot's plan worked, or if it went crashing down in flames. "Our demands are: The body of a FOXHOUND operative, Decoy Octopus; the newest Metal Gear design from the Chinese, and the vaccine for a virus developed by your own government: FOXDIE. That is all. Have a nice lunch, America."
This time, the reaction was more muted. Most people expressed outrage, outrage that this could happen and outrage that apparently nothing was being done to stop it. Once again, the government's phone system went down.
And sitting in a parlor in a café in London, the man who was supposed to be dead smiled. Outer Heaven was close. So close.
* * *
Snake watched as Raiden, or White Devil as he was now being called, was escorted by Raymond back into the station. "Well, Jack, what do you think of our little operation here?"
"Sloppy," Raiden answered. "And its either Raiden or White Devil, not Jack. I left that behind me."
Raymond's face fell. "Sloppy?" he said. "How so?"
"For starters," Raiden said, "Solid Snake is here."
"Snake? Here? Don't be ridiculous."
"Your men already know. One of them's been killed. But you don't. Pretty inefficient, Commander."
Slowly crawling out of the ventilation shaft, Snake put his FAMAS on his back and pulled out his SOCOM. Raiden was only about thirty meters away, he couldn't miss… there was no way he could miss…
Snake pulled the trigger. The noise seemed deafening, a crashing roar emitting from the gun as the bullet screamed out of the barrel. Everyone turned toward him, and he could hear someone shouting, "there he is! After him!" But he didn't notice, all his focus was on Raiden.
Raiden was focusing on Snake, too. He pulled out his sword and knocked the bullet away, all in a fraction of a second. Then he pulled out an M4 from his trench coat on the ground and began spraying the area with bullets, causing both Snake and the Genome Soldiers to put their heads down. "I really need to find a SOCOM Suppressor," Snake muttered as he ran behind a series of wooden crates, bullets tearing into them and sending wood chips flying everywhere. "Raiden has gotten a mite better with that sword."
[Not the time to be giving respect to your enemies, Snake. Get out of there.]
"I know that," Snake said, turning for a moment to fire back, catching a Genome Soldier in the chest with a burst of three bullets. The man fell backwards, blood spurting from his mouth.
"Don't let him get away!" Raiden yelled. Snake found himself starting at a large steel door, leading to a storage area, it read. "Otacon, I need door B12-9843 opened, now!" He yelled, "and then locked again on my signal!"
[I'm on it, Snake.]
"Well, get on it a bit faster," Snake yelled as he pulled out his FAMAS and raked the oncoming terrorists with fire. They fell, some dead, others taking cover. Snake heard the door open behind him. He dashed in. "Now, Otacon!" he yelled.
The door closed. In the complete darkness, Snake struggled to get the NVGs on. Then he stopped. "Who's there?" he said.
The sound of laughter echoed throughout the room, followed by heavy breathing. "I think you'll remember me from this," a voice said.
"'Five today… or rather, six?'"
Snake snarled. "Blood-sucker," he said, fitting the Night Vision Goggles over his head. The room came into focus, in varying shades of green, black, and yellow.
"I'm glad you remember me," Vamp said, as Snake looked frantically around the room, trying to find him. "As I told your little friend Jack, now my little friend Jack, I suppose," he said thoughtfully. "Show me what you've got!"
Can Snake defeat Vamp in the dark, even with the NVGs? What about Destiny and the Israeli Mossad? And what's up with Raiden? Find out, in about 25 more chapters or so :p.