NOTE: This is a chapter put in to tie up one of those little loose ends,
the brewing Chinese/American war. Will the U.S. destroy China? Will the
West Coast be turned into radioactive slag?
Chapter Nine: …and Deal
Destiny ran over to Tank's falling body, blood spurting from his throat. "Tank!" he yelled. He knelt beside his comrade, holding his head. Turning he Vulture, he yelled, "get going! Finish the mission!" After a moment's hesitation, she nodded and left, her footfalls fading in the distance.
Tank's blood soaking Destiny's Sneaking Suit. "Sorry, bud," he said, standing and aiming the M4 at Tank's head. He closed his eyes and pulled the trigger. When he opened them, Tank's face was gone, pulverized by the armor-piercing rounds. "I'll kill you, you tin-plated sonofabitch!" he yelled into the silsnce.
"But why? I am neither enemy nor friend. I have come back from a world where such things do not matter."
"Shut up! This isn't Shadow Moses!" Destiny roared, spraying the lounge with M4 fire. Stuffing blew out of the couches, the glass of the pop machine shattered, and chips of plaster flew everywhere as they were blasted out of the wall. Destiny stopped, breathing heavily.
"We will speak again soon. Farewell!"
Although he couldn't see it, he sensed that the Ninja was gone. "Damn you," he whispered, and picked up his radio. "Vulture, I'm coming now. Wait at the elevator."
"Got it, boss," Vulture said. Destiny headed for the elevator, leaving the body of his friend behind.
* * *
President Matthews watched as Ambassador Hin paced around the Oval Office. Checking his watch, Matthews that five hours had passed since Ocelot had made his nationwide, most likely worldwide, broadcast. It had been the worst five hours of Matthews' life. The death estimates in New York had reached 70,000 and were showing no signs of stopping anytime soon, and over 25 million would die at least if the West Coast were nuked.
Ambassador Hin sighed and stopped pacing. "Alright," he said at last. "We will sell you our Metal Gear REX."
"REX?" Matthews asked. "Don't you have anything else?"
"No," Hin said. "As you yourself pointed out, we are nowhere near being as advanced as you are."
"Good," Matthews said, in regard to both points of Hin's statement. "Now, 25 million, correct?"
"No."
That word again. So simple, yet so infuriating. "What, then!?" Matthews roared.
Hin smiled. "My government wants 30 billion dollars, along with the plans for your newest radar."
"What?!" Matthews feigned shock, but he was ready to give the Chinese that much, and more. The Patriots could easily handle the money, and they would also turn out some new radar ten times more advanced than whatever he gave the Chinese. "The government of the Unites States of America is pleased to accept your counterproposal," he said. "We need REX at JFK International Airport by 7 p.m. this evening."
Hin nodded. "The cargo plane carrying REX is already over your 'Midwest.' Please give it clearance to enter the restricted airspace. It will arrive in two hours. Good day." He rose and left the room.
As he stared at Hin's retreating back, Matthews felt like he was being played. And he knew by whom.
Whom else could the answer be?
The Patriots.
Chapter Nine: …and Deal
Destiny ran over to Tank's falling body, blood spurting from his throat. "Tank!" he yelled. He knelt beside his comrade, holding his head. Turning he Vulture, he yelled, "get going! Finish the mission!" After a moment's hesitation, she nodded and left, her footfalls fading in the distance.
Tank's blood soaking Destiny's Sneaking Suit. "Sorry, bud," he said, standing and aiming the M4 at Tank's head. He closed his eyes and pulled the trigger. When he opened them, Tank's face was gone, pulverized by the armor-piercing rounds. "I'll kill you, you tin-plated sonofabitch!" he yelled into the silsnce.
"But why? I am neither enemy nor friend. I have come back from a world where such things do not matter."
"Shut up! This isn't Shadow Moses!" Destiny roared, spraying the lounge with M4 fire. Stuffing blew out of the couches, the glass of the pop machine shattered, and chips of plaster flew everywhere as they were blasted out of the wall. Destiny stopped, breathing heavily.
"We will speak again soon. Farewell!"
Although he couldn't see it, he sensed that the Ninja was gone. "Damn you," he whispered, and picked up his radio. "Vulture, I'm coming now. Wait at the elevator."
"Got it, boss," Vulture said. Destiny headed for the elevator, leaving the body of his friend behind.
* * *
President Matthews watched as Ambassador Hin paced around the Oval Office. Checking his watch, Matthews that five hours had passed since Ocelot had made his nationwide, most likely worldwide, broadcast. It had been the worst five hours of Matthews' life. The death estimates in New York had reached 70,000 and were showing no signs of stopping anytime soon, and over 25 million would die at least if the West Coast were nuked.
Ambassador Hin sighed and stopped pacing. "Alright," he said at last. "We will sell you our Metal Gear REX."
"REX?" Matthews asked. "Don't you have anything else?"
"No," Hin said. "As you yourself pointed out, we are nowhere near being as advanced as you are."
"Good," Matthews said, in regard to both points of Hin's statement. "Now, 25 million, correct?"
"No."
That word again. So simple, yet so infuriating. "What, then!?" Matthews roared.
Hin smiled. "My government wants 30 billion dollars, along with the plans for your newest radar."
"What?!" Matthews feigned shock, but he was ready to give the Chinese that much, and more. The Patriots could easily handle the money, and they would also turn out some new radar ten times more advanced than whatever he gave the Chinese. "The government of the Unites States of America is pleased to accept your counterproposal," he said. "We need REX at JFK International Airport by 7 p.m. this evening."
Hin nodded. "The cargo plane carrying REX is already over your 'Midwest.' Please give it clearance to enter the restricted airspace. It will arrive in two hours. Good day." He rose and left the room.
As he stared at Hin's retreating back, Matthews felt like he was being played. And he knew by whom.
Whom else could the answer be?
The Patriots.