Metal Gear: Blurred Reality: The Patriots' Game
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Disclaimer: All characters and anything in relation to Metal Gear is owned by Konami and Hideo Kojima. And in no way do I own them... at all.
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"Peace, above all things, is to be desired, but blood must sometimes be spilled in order to obtain it on equable and lasting terms."
Introduction: What is reality? More importantly, what is "real"? Is it simply a line between what can happen and what can't? Well, what if that line was blurred? What if everything that couldn't happen did? And what effects would it have on the battle field? Enter the Patriots' latest game to gain undivided control of America, and to destroy all that oppose.. but what if the Patriots them selves could not control it? Will a certain group of Philanthropists be able to stop it before its to late?
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A/N: This is a little taste of MG: BR before I upload the first chapter, I hope you all enjoy it. And please review and tell me what you think of it, as well as if I should improve on anything, both will be a great help! And while reading make sure to keep in mind that nothing is as it seems...
Prologue
Federal Hall: Destroyed
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Federal Hall: April. 30. 0200 hours
It was raining lightly on the aging city of New York, and besides the occasional clap of thunder it was, pretty much silent. A cloaked figure, clad in a mesh of gray and black made his way down the street, stopping at a building just as a bolt of lightning light the dark skies illuminating the building, Federal Hall.
The figure soon made a slow stride up the white, aging steps, his expression a grim line. It had been too easy indeed, no one had bothered to ask the man a single question, nor did they acknowledge him. With the Socom tucked under his belt, the figure stopped at the base of the statue, George Washington.
"There you are," Grinning coldly he walked up to a concealed suit case hidden behind the statue. Sliding off his hood, long strands of hair began to fall around his shoulder as he spoke again. "we don't want you to be missing now, would we?"
The man knelt next to the suit case as a gust of wind washed over him, making his already cold body shiver physically. Cold blue eyes soon noticed a small vile that had been duct taped to the suit case, the red substance inside glistening in the moonlight. "It's sad really how easy this was," He frowned, genuinely disappointed, prying the vile from the suit case.
"Are you there? Have you found the sample?" The voice echoed in his head, the Russian accent present in his mind could only be one person, Ocelot.
The man shook his head, a smirk present on his face. "No... not yet." He slid the small sample into a compartment on his body suit. Lying was very easy indeed.
"Find that sample at on--"
Ocelot's voice was cut off by another clap of thunder... No not thu-- The figures' breath was caught in his throat as a white hot sensation over powered his right arm. He had been shot.
Assault rifles..
From behind a shout, then a shuffling of feet. His expression unchanged from the pain, rolled behind the statue. Ocelot's annoying voice echoed through his head. "What's going on!?"
He clutched his Socom turning his Codec frequency off, poking his head out from behind the statue. A small group of 12 Swat team members.. possibly the clean up crew, gathered, ready to aim and fire at any sudden movement.
A second wave of gun shots blared through the night air when they noticed the figures' dull expression, the loud ping, ping of the bullets against the statue seemed distant to him as he took cover behind George Washington again.
He nodded slowly as the firing stopped. Taking that as a cue to roll out from behind the statue, his weapon was trained on the enemy... his enemy, even before he managed to stop his action.
Nice and clean.
Time seemed to slow down and come to a stop as the Swat looked on in an unmistakable fear while the man grinned horribly pulling the Socom's trigger several times. The only sounds that had existed now were the painful cries of four men as they crumpled to the floor, dead.
A shout rang out as the remaining swat team began to fire at him the bullets missing him by an inch ripping the air next to his ear while he contently ejecting an empty mag.
He began to quickly fumble through his pockets looking for a mag even as another round of bullets missed him, splintering the wooden door in front of him. He frowned, tossing the gun to the ground, reaching for the blade on his back.
A third round of bullets were fired, the orange blaze from the rifles lighting the surrounding area. He grinned, flipping over the remaining police as the rain began to pour heavily now, the hot lead pounding into the door just as the figure took flight.
There was a slight click of boots on side walk behind the police as the man dropped to his knees. Just as the men noticed his current location he swung the blade in a quick motion, severing several limbs just under the knee. 3 more went down effortlessly.
"Get down men!" The apparent captain shouted, pulling a pin from a "pineapple" grenade.
The cold expression on the man's face was replaced with one of pure sadistic joy, a smile widening on his face. What a good way to go! This couldn't have turned out better if he planned it himself. The blade left a shimmering trail of light while he jumped back, slicing through the limb that held the pineapple.
The mixed look of fear, shock, and pain filled the captain's face as the grenade clattered to the floor, exploding on impact. A blinding light and a amazing sound filled the man's senses as he shifted his weight mid air, clearing himself of the blast radius. As he landed he shielded his eyes waiting for the light to die down.
The people began to flood to their windows and into the street as the blast faded, leaving twisted bodies and flames in its wake. The man stood, laughing. The orange flames illuminating his eyes as he casually walked over the destruction. He made his way to the suit case, activating his Codec again at once.
As he lifted the suit case he walked down the steps as causally as he came.. Talking once again. "All police are dead." The words came quick and expressionless, soon he stopped at the bottom step awaiting a response.
Ocelot on the other end nodded, his low accent piercing the sudden silence. "You know what to do now."
He didn't answer. Instead, he dropped a gray control box near the bottom step. Smirking, he lit a cigarette,
walking away. "Mission Complete."
"Huh?" Ocelot's voice echoed through his head, even when he had shut the Codec off yet again. The dumbfounded response was enough to make his day. Ocelot would never know what hit him..
When he was far enough away from the building, he flipped a small switch located on a radio tucked into his belt. The control box.. the plastic explosives emitted a blinding, soundless explosion that engulfed the building and most of the city block. As if a delayed reaction from the incredible light, the sound came now almost too late as all of Federal Hall.. was destroyed in a simple flick of a switch. That kind of power made him feel superior.
Suddenly a crackling of static echoed from his waist. He lifted the radio from his belt, turning a knob. "Good job," The voice was from an older man, probably in his late 50's. "Ocelot has been obliterated along with Federal Hall, and you have the sample. You sir have earned yourself a vacation."
"No can do sir," He sighed inwardly, a triumphant smirk on his face. "just tell me when my next objective is.." His eyes gazed at the beautiful blaze that was quickly growing, killing hundreds. A few New Yorkers ran past him, screaming.
The voice on the other end chuckled dully at his words. "In due time, fox. In due time.."
Fox nodded as the rain began to pour, buckets this time, as if in a futile attempt to put out his own godly explosion. Nothing would be able to stop this blaze now.. and nothing would be able to stop what would happen shortly... he soon left the scene impressed by a job well done.
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End of Prologue.