Chapter 7: All in a split second
"Ocelot?" Snake's voice, probably for the first time in his life since Meryl left him, started croaking. He was broken; nothing made sense.
"Solid Snake?" The voice of the devil came back to him, and Snake turned his hand into a fist to let go of the adrenaline. "What a pleasant surprise."
"Save it, you son of a bitch!" Snake shouted, and wavered to Otacon to hack into the Security Camera: The Technocrat was stunned: ECLIPSE team Bravo was pinned down by three armed soldiers and a group of men, among them Ocelot, who was confidently speaking through the radio.
"Snake, who would have foreseen that you had joined the Patriots."
"You work for them to begin with, you stinking piece of shit. What happened to Liquids arm, and RAY? " Snake forgot secrecy. None of his men knew what had gone on that April 30th, and he didn't really give a fuck.
"If you mean that bothersome appendix . . ." He looked down, to his arm, smaller than the last time Snake saw it. Of course, back in the day, that arm seemed inflated in comparison to the rest of Ocelot's anatomy. "I got rid of it. As of RAY, well, let's just say my friends in the Russian Black Market will have some fun rides with it. By the way, that intelligence on the patriots was bogus."
"Congratulations, now what the fuck do you want?!"
"It's not for me, really. You see, these two KGB Colonels are here to oversee our newest purchase."
"REX?"
"Exactly. Despite that Shadow Moses was a particularly destructive event, one of the buyers of that little MO disk was the La-Li-Lu-Le-Lo" Ocelot seemed to ignore his men, as well. At the same time, Colonel Vassov grabbed the other radio.
"So, you are done working for the Patriots."
"They hired me in the first place." Ocelot explained, in that "know-it-all" tone that gave Snake the urge of shooting his crotch. "My contract is over."
"So now you run guns with your good ol' friends from the Soviet Union, charming."
"If you want to put it that way . . ." Ocelot turned to his men. Otacon's eyes were also tracking them. It was no surprise, Vassov and Vereyanka were unsurprised. Steyanovich seemed surprised, but he was controlled. But Arbatov was getting jumpy. The regular Russian didn't go to the bathroom without planning, and in combat situations (when even the most reckless American would do a plan) being with one made the Russians loose morale quickly. "Snake, actually I do have one request." "Make it quick."
"I want a ride for me, Colonels Vassov and Vereyanka, and Captain Steyanovich and his men." Jack wrote it all down on paper, giving a total of 11 people, enough to fit in a Blackhawk chopper, namely Charlie's.
"What about Major Arbatov and his boys?" Snake asked, trying to detonate Arbatov. It worked. "Any way, I will keep my word, as long as you don't kill the hostages. Do we have a deal?" Ocelot nodded, while watching Arbatov.
"He is right, Ocelot. You won't leave me!" Arbatov shouted. Snake had seen Ocelot turning over his allies; he had with Gurklukovich, with Solidus . . . And now with Arbatov.
"I'm sorry, Major, but you and the grunts can go to hell!" Ocelot was playing it as usual: He would now wait until Arbatov lost his temper and gave him a reason to kill him.
Yet Arbatov remained still, frozen by fear. Gurlukovich and Solidus were brave men, and Arbatov was now betrayed by authority. How could it be? Arbatov had been raised his whole life taking orders; from his father, from his Sergeant, from the Communist Party . . . The idea of betrayal by either of those parties was unthinkable.
So he stood there, frozen. Ocelot's usual plan had not worked, but Ocelot didn't budge; he pulled out his Colt Single Action. Snake didn't say a word. Would he kill the hostages? The ECLIPSE operators? Arbatov?
Ocelot as turned, bending his arm and fired, the .45 Magnum bullet was ejected from the gun, braking the air away as it lunged through Major Arbatov's brain, turning his grey matter into a reddish fluid that painted the door.
The smoke dispersed, as the brainless Arbatov fell, blood oozing from his mouth, and the eyes wide open, staring into the nothing. Ocelot twirled his gun, as he moved it at the height of his mouth and blew the smoke out of the hot barrel, like in a Western. He turned to Steyanovich.
"Captain, order one of your remaining response team to trap Arbatov's troops in the dining room. We have a surprise there for them." For some reason, Snake felt like Ocelot had forgotten he left the radio on, but then again, knowing Ocelot, chances were slim.
"Yes sir, I'll take the men from the basement. I can't call them by Radio, so I'll order it myself."
"Of course. Are those men willing to die for their cause?"
"As any Spetz Naz, my general. My self, I'll take the other team and secure the Heliport in order to receive our Limo." Snake just then realized of his mistake; If Steyanovich and his grunts went to the Heliport, Elijah would be in deep shit. "These three will take care of our American friends," he said as he watched the cowering ECLIPSE Bravo members.
"Don't worry, I'll go with you." Ocelot clarified. "Vereyanka, you will also come with us. Vassov?"
"Yes, my general?" The young KGB Colonel asked, enthusiasm burning in his eyes.
"Take one of the hostages, Mr. Stevens there, and go to the rooftop. Negotiate with the capitalist hogs." Vassov stared wildly into James's eyes. He was skinny and his hair the usual pulled back using some sort of gel. The business man 's mind seemed to erupt in fear, as Vassov grabbed him and put the Skorpion he had brought with him up James's neck, and dragged him out of the room.
"Ocelot, I hate to interrupt" Vereyanka forced Ocelot to face him. "But we may have to take a hostage. Might I recommend our beloved VIP hostage, Ambassador Andrei Sobrietsky?"
"Good thinking." Ocelot said. "As for Snake . . ." He raised the Colt Single Action, and fired at the camera, making a show of spars as Otacon backed from the monitor when he saw the image turn into a fest of white and gray. Ocelot cut communication with Snake, too.
Ocelot and company walked out, except for the three Alpha Commandos. They all got into combat stance. A firefight was the only thing either team visualized in the future. Joshua attacked first: He didn't even jump out of cover: He turned (he had his back resting in the turned table he used as cover) and started firing through the expensive wood, the bullets easily piercing it and lodging themselves in one of the commandos. The other two fired through the wood as well, as Joshua rolled out of cover and fired, yet this time the enemy took cover.
It was clear: As good defenders of the Marxist way of life, the former Spetz Naz weren't able to deal with surprises, but when they had come up with a plan, they were invincible.
Nadia ran out of cover, firing and keeping the tango low. The hostages were still moaning, hearing the "discussion of lead". Sean also peeked out of cover and started firing his AK; pinning down the two terrorists.
Neither of them gave up. From their trench, behind the Ambassador's desk, they threw a Russian made grenade that twirled in the air, towards Sean's improvised foxhole. At the same time, Nadia went into a prone position in a few seconds after almost being hit by a burst of Kalashnikov fire, and now she was afraid of moving an inch, with the fear of being hit by both friendly and enemy fire. All in a split second.
The grenade fell right next to the concentrated Sean Rodriguez. The Mexican scout grabbed an additional magazine for the AK, from a near terrorist body, as he saw it: The greenish round device from hell; a grenade. Soviet made grenades had longer fuses than the American M67. Sean punched it, sending out of his foxhole.
The explosive bounced off the wall and exploded in the middle of the furious crossfire, the shrapnel (a high quantity of metal shards disposed to be spread all over with the explosion, practically doing more damage than the explosion itself) stabbing everything near it.
Nadia was still cowering, probably in panic. As the higher ranking officer, Joshua needed to be the hero. He raised his G36K and fired at the lights above the terrorists, the rain of sparks burning them through the Kevlar. They were screaming, knowing that the distraction of pain meant the enemy was preparing an attack, so they kept firing, trying to keep the ECLIPSE team at bay. Their mistake was to fire in Sean and Joshua's direction, forgetting Nadia.
She was now a ball of nerves. Joshua didn't order it, but she felt it was her duty; it was HER job to finish of those commie pricks, no matter what. And she had given the chance. It was like when she had to rappel. Did she want to do it? No. Was she scared? Yes. But then, she remembered something the Tactical Advisor, Jack Sears, told her when she was scared during her first heavy weapon training session. She could still hear, among the gun fire, Sears's voice.
"Being brave is not being afraid of nothing, that's just being an idiot. Being brave is having fear, I dare to say that you should be shitting your pants, but still getting up and doing the mother fucking job."
She could hear Jack, still, as she got up, gritting her teeth, and then she stood up, aimed the G36K, just as one of the terrorist spotted her and called his comrade's attention.
By the time they looked at that woman in SWAT outfit, she smashed the trigger; a haze of 5.56 x 45mm bullets jumped from the mouth of her rifle, punching through the balaclavas and killing both of them, the bullets that pieced one terrorist lodged in the other, living (at the time), terrorist. All three enemies were dead.
-- -- --
John stopped; his mind focus on what was ahead, as his Green Beret trainer repeated to him in all exercises. The blood was pumping, as Bobby Bogart checked the door.
"Fuck, it's locked," Booby commented. "Listen, I can't blow this shit. Not without nailing the hostages. I'll try to pick the lock." He finished, pulling out the lock picks. John looked at the corridor they had come though. Clear.
"So, enjoying this ride?"
"Kidding? I'm about to puke. It's too much tension." He said, fighting the lock.
"Sure. Hey, are you sure this is the mess hall?"
"A hundred percent, man. I've studied the plan of the Embassy on the way here."
"What for?"
"Possible bomb locations."
"You are kidding right? Damn Bob, you are so funny"
"John, chances are the terrorists left a bomb near the hostages. It is the quickest form of elimination. I shit you not."
John became alert again. He was having a bad feeling.
"Done." The bomb disposal agent informed. "Check for hostiles."
John complied, and opened the door violently. Amazingly, no hostages were present. The dining room was large, a light blue toned walls, with long tables. Obviously not meant for the usual Embassy diners, more like for feeding the Embassy personnel. There wasn't much cover (except hiding below the tables) so combat would be quick.
"There!" One of the Russians shouted, sitting in one of the tables, turning and alerting another comrade, waiting by the kitchen. In that second, John put a bullet right into the first terrorist, sending him flying him off, with a bullet stuck in his head. The other one fired once, hitting the door that Dolph had opened, The African-American blasted in, while Bobby followed him, shooting and hitting the bastard in the chest, killing him.
The battle was quick, but suddenly, over eight of Arbatov's troops came in from the kitchen and they all set into firing position, all near each other, causing a huge firestorm. But they had ignored that one of the antiterrorists (John Reilly Dolph) had a grenade launcher attached to his assault rifle.
The private rolled out of the way of the first rain of lead, and from below a table, he pressed the trigger forward to the magazine, activating the Grenade launcher; a 40mm round of silver colors flew towards the terrorist contingent, hitting in the middle of the human mass.
A sudden ball of fire, followed by an explosion, appeared, sending the terrorists flying in all directions, bashing themselves at the walls of the dinning room. The two counter terrorists whispered, releasing the adrenaline.
"What a show!" Both turned, to see a familiar face.
"Nick! You worthless son of a bitch!" Dolph joked, in his own way of saying his buddy that he loved him, as he hugged him. Bogart was the only one of alert now. The other ones were relaxed, yet Robert felt something was not right.
"Nick, what's going on?"
"We only have 20 minutes left before satellite uplink."
"Wait, I need to call Snake." John pulled out his radio, and called the ETHQ.
"Commander Snake?"
"Snake here. What's up?"
"Boss, no hostages at the dining room"
"What?"
"Yeah. I guess it was a barrack. Any ideas on where the hostages are held?"
"Wait . . ." The commander looked at the Thermal Image of the Embassy. Besides the heat concentration in the Dining room there was no other. Where could they be? "Have you checked the guest rooms?"
"No . . ."
"I suggest you start there."
Snake cut, and they both looked at Nikolai.
"Listen, wanna join for the ride?"
"Sure. I guess my accuracy rifle would work in this joint." He said, looking at his L96.
"Sure. Let's rock these bitches!" After this line of bravado, Dolph reloaded his AG36 grenade launcher.
Bogart walked swiftly to the door. A new mission objective. He reached for the door. No use, it was closed. It was the same one he had picked, so it was impossible it was locked. In other words, someone had blocked him and the rest. They were trapped.
"Guys! Shit! They freaking got us!" he shouted.
"Can't we blow the door?" Nick asked, looking at the torn apart corpses.
"Nope. There's no amount of explosives I have to blow a door that is blocked like that."
"So we are fucked?"
"In other words . . ."
"That's not our only problem . . ." Nick stopped, and turned to look at a black box near the first dead terrorist. It looked . . . Like a bomb!
"Shit!" Bogart shouted. It was clearly Czechoslovakian made SEMTEX, attached to a barrel, likely filled with liquid.
"What do you think that barrel has?" Dolph asked.
"In the best case, kerosene. That would only kill us, but the rest of the facility would make it. This place is made to be flame resistant." He said, looking around.
"And in the worst?"
"Some sort of petroleum derivate cocktail. Probably gasoline mixed with some other petroleum derivate."
"In English?" Nick asked.
"Napalm." Dolph said, blankly
"Oh shit"
-- -- --
"Snake!" Jack entered violently as always, not surprising Snake, (which is, by the way, impossible) but he did wake him up. And analyzing the situation was no fun.
"What's up?"
"Check the phone. We are being called by Barlett."
"Barlett? As in Thomas Barlett, director of the National Security Agency?"
"Yes."
"I'll take it." Snake didn't know what to do. It wasn't usual to deal with such a high-profile character in the US intelligence community. "Hello?"
"David . . ." Barlett's voice was disapproving, even when comforting you. He was completely well prepared, lacking human emotions; he was a well- greased machine, who though about business (in his case, Ciphering and deciphering transmissions, basic duty of the NSA).
"I prefer Snake." Snake answered, cuttingly.
"Sure, Snake." Barlett seemed to be a decent negotiator. "Am I to understand that you are still in negotiations with the terrorists?"
"That's correct."
"Snake, I just got word from the White House. They seemed to have come to a deal with the terrorists."
"What? You negotiated with the terrorists behind my back, knowing I'm the one in charge?"
"Relax, we are not giving REX. Bu t the situation has grown unbearable to both parties. Ocelot wants a breather."
"By Ocelot you mean all the terrorists . . ."
"No, just Ocelot. To my understanding, the rest of his associates are kept in the dark. I dare to say they think they are going to Cuba to reorganize their assault. They must believe they are the soviet Che Guevara."
"Since you've performed so greatly undercover, why do you bring this to my attention?" Snake wanted to think it had never happened.
"You see, Snake, Ocelot says in public he wants safety for his officers and his Elite. But he's lying. He knows he'll never get REX. I believe he just dragged the two KGB Colonels to make an over-done execution for his former comrades."
"Why would he do that?" Snake wondered aloud.
"Snake, listen. Steyanovich believes that one US agency is offering him salvation, the other one is attacking. The Alpha Team knows they are fucked. The problem with democracy is the lack of coordination between government entities. Vereyanka and Vassov know that. But we'll use that to our advantage. He may believe that the NSA is offering him salvation, and your boys offer death."
"And this means?"
"This means that to the eyes of his men, you are still enemies. Ocelot's men will believe they've been caught in a conflict of interests."
"And what do we win?"
"Ocelot lives, the rest dies."
"You still haven't explained my why I need to know."
"Because I want your pilot to pretend he is flying Ocelot to safety."
"Why him?"
"There are too many people involved already."
"Aha." Snake realized that like always, he was a puppet.
"That's it." Barlett finished dryly. "Bye."
The phone disconnected, and Snake rubbed his head. "Go to hell."
-- -- --
Hal Emmerich was not made for this. The stress was overwhelming, and he didn't think of himself as strong enough to deal with the pressure. He had been "the contact" several times before, but this was not the same. Then, it was Snake, a mercenary, a hero, a man that feared no one.
This time, it was just a bunch of kids. He was older than all of them (One year older than the eldest ECLIPSE, Joshua Machuttes) and he felt a connection. He was now in charge. Both Snake and Jack were entangled in a discussion with Monroe and her crew. It was unfair; five years ago, he didn't have any goddamn idea of concepts that now were daily for him.
The tactical radio released a beep; He was getting a call. Snake was distracted, talking, so, why not?
"Hello?"
"Who is this?" A Russian accented voice, that released hatred, sounded.
Hal was frozen. He turned to Snake, while keeping the radio down.
"Snake! Dr. Hanson is needed! I have a terrorist here!"
Snake wavered out. Hanson was probably assessing what was the enemy plan. Otacon started thinking; What if he negotiated? He knew a bit, he was better talking that fighting, and that he was the only one that could do it. He took a look through the monitor, reflecting a satellite lens; a man with a radio stood in the rooftop, holding a gun to a man's neck, who was on his knees.
"Can you hear me?"
"Yes, I'm here."
"What's you name?"
"Call me . . ." He decided not to lie. He was becoming a negotiator. "My name is Doctor Hal Emmerich, Ph. D in . . ." He could have said he was an electro mechanics specialist, but he deiced to lie. "Ph. D in Criminal Psychology."
"I'll instruct you on my terms, Doctor Emmerich. My name is Colonel Illich Vassov, from the Committee of State Security. You will refer to me as Colonel Vassov. Second, if you have any snipers aiming at me, I suggest you withdraw them, or otherwise I will kill the hostage. Finally, I will make it clear that in should any point my requests are not fulfilled, I'll kill James Stevens."
"Colonel Vassov, may I ask first to you which are your demands?"
"My associates have already asked for a helicopter. I want the promise that such won't go off course and won't be shut down until it reaches a country with no extradition treaty, namely Cuba."
"That can be done" Hal wrote it down. No need, there was an NSA analyst doing a transcript.
"Good."
"Colonel, myself, I have a request. You can get your freedom, but we need you to give us the hostages."
"Shut up, American imbecile!" Typical of the soviet style of negotiation, the Russian wanted to get and not give. "We also want the Metal Gear"
"I'm afraid that's beyond us." Otacon informed. "Still, if you want the REX, I think you should let the hostages go."
"Listen! I don't give a fuck what you think! You give me the ride and the Metal Gear, and James here lives!" Vassov shouted, while pressing the barrel of the Skorpion into James's scalp, the latter of which was sobbing.
It was fucking impossible. How to negotiate with a psychopathic gorilla like Vassov? But he had to. There was no choice. He had to save James Stevens. But then, he doubted. Was he really that good of a negotiator? Back in Shadow Moses, he failed to stop Snake . . . he tried to clear his head. Probably Dr. Hanson would have Vassov eating of his hand, but Otacon had to focus.
"I'm sorry, Vassov, but that's not enough. Even though a single man is more important to us than to you, Mr. Stevens is not worth the millions put in risk by Metal Gear."
"Good! Don't give us the Metal Gear, I'll just kill Stevens!" The madman removed the safety of his Skorpion. Hal was frozen, but he had to act. Now he was the hero. Now he was saving lives.
"No! That's not what I meant! Maybe we should find a balance!"
"Look who's talking about balance! A capitalist, whose system defends a few rich and spits on the poor."
"I'm sure capitalism has its flaws. But . . ."
"Shut up! Can't you see you are the villains here! Yours is a system that values freedom more than life! I spit on your freedom!"
"Listen, calm yourself. Capitalism and Communism have their differences, but both defend human life!" Hal was lying. The communists never gave shit about human life.
"Are you sure?"
"OK, you are right. Capitalism is wrong and unfair, Communism is the right answer. But is it worth killing millions with Metal Gear?" Hal was lying again. He shuddered. He was like a politician, faking an opinion to save something. Only he was trying to save a life, whereas politicians try to save votes.
"You are lying, Comrade Emmerich." Vassov dragged Stevens to face another direction, checking for snipers. Despite what Vassov confidently (and stupidly) thought, there was a sniper aiming at him. "But I'm not a barbarian like you. I have decided that I, belonging to a more civilized way of life, will let go of Mr. Stevens if you bring your helicopter here now."
"Of course. Look southeast. See that chopper? It has been refueled and it's ready to transport you and your comrades to safety." What did he just say? He said he was the more civilized than him? In Hal's opinion, it was like if Hitler called Winston Churchill a "racist".
"Ah! Who could say that I, a noble defender of the Marxist way of life was to agree with a shallow capitalist dog like you?" Otacon didn't get Vassov. He was clearly insulting him and his political beliefs, and he thought of himself as a hero. How stupidly tragic. "By the way, I lied"
Otacon's heart stopped, as the terrorist turned of the radio, kicked Stevens (dropping him to the floor) and aimed the CZ Skorpion to his brain. Even watching him from space, like Otacon was, one could tell that Stevens was crying sincerely, afraid for his life.
He had a wife, a daughter, and a baby boy. A family, and even if he had trouble at work, he would get out of his slump. He had a family, a home, and friends. How could this stupid motherfucker even have the courage to think he was entitled to kill him, just because he thought his political system was superior to his? Was politics worth killing a man, leaving a woman widow and two kids orphans? Andrei was right; these men were insane.
Vassov was smiling, as he watched a desperate James and turned, looking at the warehouse/heliport. He then looked down and aimed at James. His huge smile was like that of a psychopath, glad to kill a representative of the capitalist war machine, like the members of the Politburo called them. He looked again upwards, in order to release the adrenaline of the execution.
James felt like he was going to die. The maniac was looking upwards, releasing the thrill. He sobbed a bit, and then looked up at his killer. He was going to die. Yeah, he was. And there was nothing anyone could do about it.
Vassov, released the tension, and then prepared to kill James. Just then, he stared into the warehouse/heliport, and watched a figure stand there. It was a man. Caucasian, blond, wearing a BDU similar to those he had seen in the Office. Yet this man was looking at him from a distance, and he had something in his arms. Then, Illich's smile disappeared, and then turned to into an expression similar to James's; the one of a man that realized that he was going to die. The blond man in the heliport was cradling in his arms . . .
A sniper rifle.
Elijah Mahmoud Slervansk aimed his G3/SG-1 to Vassov's head, while holding his breath to steady his aim, and pulled the trigger. The 7.62 x 51mm bullet was the fire ejected from the mouth of the dragon, speeding through the night, like an eagle closing on its prey.
The bullet entered Vassov's head, pushing it backwards, and went all over through his brain, and finally going through Vassov's cerebellum and aorta artery, releasing its contents within Vassov's brain. Since his blood pressure was high due to the combat stress, the injured Aorta blew, literally forcing his head to explode.
James Stevens was bathing in blood, as he saw Vassov's head less body fall, but he didn't care. He was still going to see his daughter and son again. He turned to the blond man with the sniper rifle. He wavered to him, like saying thanks.
The blond man saluted him in a military style. They were more than 50 meters away, but both James and Elijah could see the one on the other side smiling. One was glad to be alive. And the other one was glad to help.
James grabbed the radio, lying next to the stylishly decapitated corpse.
"Hello? Who's there?"
"I'm Dr. Hal Emmerich. Are you alright, sir?"
"Are you the sniper that killed that man?"
"That was me" Elijah interrupted, making an effort to hide the accent (and portray a cheap American accent) and make Stevens believe he was a Washington PD SWAT Sniper.
"Who are you people?"
"We are here to save you." Otacon said, calming him.
"I noticed that."
"Sir, I need you to stay there. And not do anything stupid." Otacon added.
"I will, don't worry" He said, grabbing the Skorpion, taking it from Vassov's static fingers.
"Good. Don't go out of that rooftop. Some of our men will come for you, ok?"
"Ok . . ."
-- -- --
"We're fucked." Solid Snake admitted. When he was a grunt, he limited himself to saying "Damn" but this was too much responsibility to stick to correct language.
"What is it?" Dr. Hanson was far more correct in his speech, being an English gentleman. He was the only non-American in the support crew, but that would change soon. They were clearly understaffed, and they would recruit far more personnel during the following missions.
"Corporal Robert Bogart found an explosive device within the Embassy. According to him, it's a sort of Incendiary bomb. He can't tell which type until he is sure to know how to prevent detonation. He still considers the possibility of a Napalm bomb."
"Napalm?" The psychologist asked, he ignored a quarter of all the military terms Snake and company used.
Jack Sears began explaining.
"It's a petroleum derivate composite, created during WWII to destroy everything and everyone within a confined space. It is a mixture of Gasoline and other petroleum derivates. It causes burning far worse than regular fire, it is hotter and is impossible to put down, you only can wait until it all burns out. It was prohibited in the Geneva Convention during the 70's, due to the horrible contaminations it causes. However, it is the only effective way to neutralize chemical weapons, so it was legalized just before Gulf War 1."
"And suppose this bomb went off" William Sharp asked. "What kind of effect would it have on the area?"
"A massive fireball. It would cremate everyone within the Embassy within three seconds. The structure would fall apart, and it is likely that every human being in the square would receive third level burnings. The air would be so polluted one out of a hundred people in the city would have lung affections, and one out of ten thousands would die of Lung Cancer."
"Holy shit . . ." Snake let go.
"Yes, really nasty stuff."
"Mr. Sears, isn't it possible that the device is not an Incendiary bomb, but rather a Chemical weapons projector?" Katya asked, trying to se if she was really being shown the worst case scenario.
"Impossible, Sub Commander. You see, the detonator of the bomb is not the Napalm itself, but other, more traditional way of explosives. In the Vietnam War, they were attached to standard bomber warheads, launched from Bombers. Our man identified the detonator as Czechoslovakian made SEMTEX If the liquid inside the tank is contaminated with Chemical weapons, the SEMTEX would incinerate them." Raiden informed, and watched Snake wince.
"How much time is it going to take for Corporal Bogart to disarm the device?" Sharp asked.
"There's no way we can tell, but I guess that over 40 minutes."
"Is it to my understanding that the team is trapped?" Monroe asked.
"It is" Snake admitted "But they have a job to do. Another team is working by the clock to release the hostages."
"And the snipers?"
"One is trapped with team Epsilon. The other one is still in the heliport." Snake commented.
"Snake . . ." Raiden called, blankly.
"What?" Snake asked, directly.
"Didn't Ocelot say he and his men would go to the heliport to escape?"
"I sent Charlie to go there." Snake said.
"Snake you . . ." Raiden controlled himself, knowing Snake was his commander.
"Jack, if you want to call me a fucking idiot you can."
"Snake, first, you mean you will let Ocelot go?"
"Jack, put yourself in my position. I have to save those hostages. If I haven't agreed with Ocelot, the hostages would be dead, and the bomb may have gone off. Just because they are enemies we can't just kill them."
"And second, what about Elijah?"
"What do you mean?"
"Elijah is guarding that place. In the original mission plan, he was meant to get reinforcements, but both teams are delayed. Even though he is a good shooter and a smart soldier, Elijah Slervansk is not prepared to fight a Spetz Naz captain, two KGB Colonels and a member of FOXHOUND at the same time."
Snake had been screwed: He hadn't considered that. "Shit."
"Can't you order Slervansk out?" Monroe asked.
"No use. There's an enemy security camera in place. It is very smartly located, and there's no way he can go through. He managed to bypass it, since Otacon hacked into it, but I doubt it will work again."
"Is there any possibility that Slervansk might avoid confrontation?" Sharp continued.
"Now that's semantics. If you mean hide, it's a possibility, but members of ECLIPSE never had advanced stealth training. If you mean surrender, that's impossible. I don't, nor does the NSA; nor does the DOD, desire to see a member of a top secret special unit as a hostage."
"Are you absolutely positive Slervansk doesn't stand a chance?" Monroe asked, wondering if ECLIPSE was truly that inexperienced.
"In combat, you can never be absolutely sure of everything. Is it a possibility that Slervansk can kill Steyanovich, Vereyanka, Vassov, Ocelot and four Alpha team members armed only with an M9 pistol and his intelligence? Believe it or not, it is possible. Unlikely, but possible. However, I won't run the risk. I want to talk to him."
"It's not so easy, Snake" Raiden explained. "If he calls us, it's not so bad, if we are the ones calling, and initiating burst transmission. We need to begin an encryption protocol and . . ."
"Than what the fuck are you doing just talking here? Go!" Snake snapped.
Sharp though for a second. "Doctor Hanson, in an extreme situation, such as an eight-on-one gun fight, ho would Slervansk react?"
"Being the unit psychologist, I asses that a man of Slervansk background would be able to keep his cool and stay out of harm's way." Hanson explained. "He would probably hide and, if caught, try to delay the enemy as he tries to escape. I doubt he'll try to fight Ocelot and his men face- to-face, and I find it unconceivable for Elijah to surrender.
"Sub commander Monroe, do you considers Slervansk to be expendable?" Sharp asked, cautiously.
"No mother fucking way." Snake interrupted.
"Snake . . ."
"I won't just stand here while one of my boys dies out there." One of his boys. Damn, he felt close to those kids. It was something he wasn't expecting. He never had. And that situation, for example, was no exception. Five years ago, executing Sniper Wolf with a neat .45 gunshot in the forehead he had absolutely no fucking idea that he would end up trying to save that woman's brother's life.
Otacon walked in, confusedly
"Snake, Raiden just entered my PC like crazy, you know."
"Let him. It's really important."
"I have no problem with that."
"Then?"
"Snake, Vassov is dead."
"What?"
"Elijah killed him. Sniper Rifle shot. To the head." Otacon explained. He wasn't used to watch people die, but . . .
Snake could see Sharp grin. "Great job, kid!" Like talking to Elijah through some sort of telepathy.
"Anything else?"
"Yeah. I just pick up and enemy transmission, it seems Epsilon has been trapped purposefully. The team responsible for the locking is meeting with Ocelot's crew somewhere in the Embassy, but we do know they are taking the main corridor in the third floor."
"Is team Bravo free?" Snake asked.
"Think so." Sharp said.
"Then tell Machuttes and his men to drag their asses and take out those monkeys." Snake said, violently. "Otacon, tell Raiden to order that to Machuttes and his men, all right?"
"Aren't the squad's radios in hands of the terrorists?"
"Right . . ."
"I have an idea . . ." Monroe proposed, in a short manner. "Our advanced team was given CODEC . . . Maybe Rodriguez still has his"
"It's worth trying."
"Then do it." Snake ordered, and Otacon obeyed.
-- -- --
"Ok, moving out." Rodriguez responded, through the CODEC, and cut off communications.
"Who was that?" Slonoskvo asked, with her usual curiousness.
"Dr. Emmerich. He says there's an enemy squad in the hallway just ahead. "
"So?" Machuttes couldn't care less.
"Apparently, the government will accept to let the bad guys go this time, without the Metal Gear. The bad boys wanna escape, and thus they need to grab a chopper in the heliport. Elijah is posted there. If Steyanovich's troops get there is really a large possibility that our favorite Iraqi sharpshooter will turn into cottage cheese."
"You know, Sean, your sense of humor sucks," Nadia said back, worried for her comrade, "Emmerich is right, we need to go there and flush out those bastards."
"I don't know . . ." Joshua doubted. Being commander of team Bravo meant that the safety of the members under his command was his absolute responsibility.
"C'mon. It's orders." Rodriguez was the first to turn, and Nadia followed him quickly. Machuttes stared at both of them for a while, and then decided to join them.
-- -- --
"Elijah? Are you there?" Snake called, once Raiden had given him the speaker of the Command radio.
"Here I am. What's wrong?"
"Listen carefully. The government has given in to half of their demands."
"Really? They are just going to let them go, won't they?" The sniper's voice tone was dark and at the same time, conscious.
"Elijah, the NSA has ordered me to let go of Ocelot. I can't fuck with these guys. They fuck with me." Snake stopped, after flushing out his frustration. "He's headed to the Heliport to be picked by Charlie."
"Wait, you are saying that if I get in Ocelot's way I'm dead?"
"That's correct. And don't even dream to resist, because he has escorts, OK?"
"OK, I'll lay low."
"Don't lay low. Be inexistent." Snake said a phrase he had learnt from "The Hell Master", AKA McDonnell Miller, back in his days in FOX-HOUND to reflect hiding to avoid a passing enemy force. "If you want some advice, I suggest you get the hell out of there undetected."
"That's not the worse news" The agent explained.
"What are they?" Snake predicted the Sergeant's words.
"They are already in their way here." He explained; through the 5x scope attached to the G3/SG-1, clear as day, a group of men walked through the yard slowly, like enjoying a walk. One of them was recognizable from the Shadow Moses VR; Revolver Ocelot.
Now that was a man Elijah wouldn't like to face in a gun fight. There was no denial; he had to get out . . .
"Elijah, don't worry. Forget your sniping mission. Your mission objective is to stay alive."
" . . . " The look on Elijah's face was grim; He was trapped, and the wound in his thigh wouldn't help when the painkillers stopped acting. Looking up, he noticed that the clouds were growing. A storm was coming.
"Elijah, don't die on me." Snake said it in an absolutely frank tone. He wasn't only telling the truth, he was also expressing what he felt.
"All right . . ."
-- -- --
What the fuck was going on now? Charlie asked himself over and over. That CTA, Jack Sears, had just ordered him to turn around . . . And pick up the enemies? If was likely that the government had gone over his head on this one, but what if he was taken hostage?
Why him? Why not some cheap FBI pilot? Stupid question. In an absolutely black op, like ECLIPSE's, they needed a pilot that was able to keep a secret, even after the third beer in Fort Meade's lounge bar. And he was perfect, wasn't him? He had been a FOX-HOUND pilot of the last ten years, almost eleven. Back in the day, he flew cheap cargo choppers and getting agents under cover. Including rescuing Solid Snake in Zanzibar.
He tried to make a sense that what happened to Zanzibar. Yeah. After the fall of its military regime, and the total annihilation of their special weapons (Metal Gear and Oilix) it was assaulted by three Chinese armored divisions, and it became part of the Peoples Republic of China.
Back on the task at hand, he remembered the not so improbable chance that he could be taken hostage. But true was that if he was put a gun at his head, he could just turn off the engine of his UH-60K Blackhawk and send those fucks to the next generation. He grimed. He had so much power in his hands. But he wasn't young anymore; he couldn't ride those amazing Apaches he grew up with, not even think about the Stealth version of the Apache attack chopper, the Comanche.
No, it was for young boys. He was now a transport chopper pilot, a ferryman for wet works operatives. His V-shaped jaw seemed to bend when he smiled. Damn, he was old. And now that his bosses were submitting to a bunch of terrorists . . .
He steered the Blackhawk and decided to take a fly-by the heliport. Just to get the feeling for it.
-- -- --
"So?" Dolph was growing impatient. That was no problem to Amerstraus, who was a sniper and was used to tiring wait periods. John stared at Bob, who was sitting right in front of the bomb, staring at it, yet doing nothing. "Aren't you going to do anything?"
"John, like it or not, bomb disposal is a dangerous job, and I need concentration, OK?"
"Suit yourself" Dolph said, with an exasperated tone.
"Does it look active?" Nick, due to his sniping background, more relaxed.
"No . . . It seems its radio controlled" "So, do you think the bad guys have the detonator?"
"For sure." He said.
"Do you think you can defuse it?"
"I don't do miracles."
-- -- --
The crosshair moved, only a few inches, to start pointing at Ocelot's chest. Through the scope of Elijah's rifle, the group of terrorists seemed to walk easily. It was tensioning. The roar of Charlie's helicopter, even though distant, was present and kept Elijah focused. Because if the NSA had indeed given up to the terrorists' demands, it would be an ECLIPSE chopper that would drive Ocelot and his men to safety.
The Russians still dragged a hostage, held by two Alpha Commandos. With large cheeks, bald, could it be they were using Ambassador Sobrietsky as a human shield? Those men were not only hardcore professionals; they had guts, because when you mess with a Russian diplomat, you mess with Russia. And experience told Elijah Russia was a country you didn't want to mess with. Even after Yeltsin's coup, the Russian military were a bunch of bad asses. Drunk, badly paid, depressed, rebellious, bad asses.
They were now on open ground. What if he killed Ocelot? No, they would execute the hostage. Still, wouldn't they anyway? Ocelot was the one forward; Vereyanka and Steyanovich followed him, and a team of four men behind, acting as escorts, and dragging Sobrietsky. Maybe, if he killed carrier, he would have time to . . . No, he was delusional if he though that could work. He kept staring into scope, hoping something would come up.
-- -- --
"I think I got them!" Rodriguez said, while peeking from a corner. A human mass; the remaining Alpha team, was running, each behind another like a snake. Every step taken by the group lead Sean's heart beat rate slightly higher, to the point he was virtually twitching.
"Do we ambush them?" Machuttes asked. He was ready to kill. His gripped on the G36K was noticeable and so was the look on his eyes. He was expectant; it was the rush of combat that kept some soldiers in the frontlines.
"Almost . . ." Sean whispered. The team was so close, almost three meters . . . He hid his head, and returned to the darkness, with the rest of his crew. The team was concentrated on their mission they just passed through the corner, and that gave the chance to Machuttes who ran behind them.
He was now staring at the enemies back. It was too much tension, he was sweating, the combat high raising his blood pressure levels to extraordinary stages . . . he needed to release it, and he shouted.
"Die, you bastards!" He told his enemy he as stood there. And that was one of the worst mistakes one could make.
The Russians turned, stopping from their walk to see that man aiming that rifle . . . And shooting. The fourth soldier was machine gunned instantly, the other ones spreading into cover. The other three took cover behind some columns in the hallway, firing furiously. Joshua ran into cover.
Russian design was clearly inspired in Byzantine architecture. Columns were at the sides of hall, now being hit by Kalashnikov rounds, being demolished, the shards of material littering the floor, breaking the ceramic, along with tons of empty bullet casings.
"Shit! You stupid fuck!" Rodriguez expressed himself. He knew Machuttes was higher ranked, but he couldn't give less. "I have an idea!" He shouted, drowned by the gunfire and the sound of the wall and columns shattering, ridding the floor with debris.
He grabbed a cylindrical shaped grenade, similar to the flash bang, and removed the safety. Slonoskvo recognized them; she was one of the first ECLIPSE members to be recruited and back in the day, ECLIPSE didn't use Flash bangs to divert the enemy, they used Smoke Grenades.
John threw it to the gunfire. The smoke started to spread, but one of the bullets pierced the grenade, making the smoke spread faster He knew it wouldn't work; smoke only worked with rookies that stayed in one place while shooting. Hardened veterans like those would try to dissipate the smoke, or try to overcome it; through the thick black smoke, the enemy put on their NVG and started firing again. Rodriguez was expecting that.
Machuttes understood the tactic, and turned on the flashlight attached to the G36K and turning the NVG on. The others followed they had a plan. They ran out of cover, bullet hitting all around, and Joshua (who saw one of them, since the NVG ECLIPSE had was better quality than the Alpha) aimed the G36K to the enemy's face.
An NVG works by amplification of the light it catches by a 100%. If a large source of light is pointed at it, the light is magnified, creating an immense flashing light, burning the user's retinas.
One of them blinded, Machuttes took the chance and fired a three-round- burst, hitting the tango in the head and killing him. Just then, Slonoskvo did the same with the other and Rodriguez shoot directly. Three seconds later, the bodies of all four Alpha Commandos lay on the floor, among empty shell casings and debris.
"We did it . . . " Rodriguez was breathing heavily. Combat was tiring. However, this time Machuttes took the initiative.
"C'mon. Elijah is still in the heliport. We need to rescue him."
Suddenly, thunder rang, making the ECLIPSE members shudder.
"It's raining" Rodriguez said, stating the obvious.
"Better for us," Nadia said, "The enemy won't hear us with the rain." The billions of droplets were letting themselves hear. It was a spring storm, not so uncommon. What a dramatic ending for her first CT mission.
-- -- --
Elijah walked down the stairs, his Beretta M9 resting in his sweating hands. The gun didn't slip; he was wearing those Nomex gloves. They were augmenting the heat, but he didn't mind. He hid behind one of the wooden grates of warehouse, hearing footsteps and voices.
"So, Vassov is dead?"
"Yes, I tried to call his radio, but some American answered. They got him all right." Ocelot explained. They were walking peacefully, as if they didn't know there was someone spying on them.
"What a disgrace. I assume Steyanovich's other team won't arrive?" Vereyanka asked, cautiously. "Anyways, where is he?"
"I left him and two of his men in the first floor, in case we are followed by Snake's men."
"Who is this Snake anyway, Tovarish?"
"An old enemy. He thinks he is in control of his own destiny. Poor idiot." Ocelot seemed to have fun describing Snake. Elijah could now see Ocelot and Vereyanka's shadow. He could guess he was followed by two tangos . . . That were walking Sobrietsky at gunpoint.
The Kurd could see Ocelot stopping for a second. "Listen, Comrade Colonel, when this helicopter arrives, I want you to kill Sobrietsky, understood?" He could also hear Sobrietsky losing his composure. It wasn't nice to have someone saying you were going to die.
He called Snake on the CODEC.
"Hey! Someone! Answer me!" Even though the CODEC can pick up sounds as minute as a rat's heartbeat, he was still unwilling to let Ocelot's crew to hear him.
"Snake here. What's wrong?"
"Snake . . . They are going to kill Sobrietsky."
"Damn . . . Can you do anything to save him?"
"Doubt it." He said, beaten.
"Listen, I just got a phone call form the NSA director. They have decided to screw Ocelot. You can use any force you see fit to finish him off."
"All right . . ."
He cut off, and sneaked through the boxes, keeping his head low, his mind focused. He reached until the door that leads to the stairs, and to Steyanovich's team. It was made of metal; it would stop the sound any gunfight might cause. He shut it carefully, without making any noise, and then quickly hid and took a sneak peek of the scene. Both guards were checking the door that lead to the Heliport, and Ocelot was checking the corpse Yuri, the latter that did nothing but lay there, stabbed and its neck broken. Vereyanka was distracted, and Sobrietsky was in the corner, without laying attention, just focusing in staying alive.
He sneaked up to Vereyanka and with a quick move, grabbed his throat and put his Beretta up his temple. He let off a scream, and Ocelot and his men turned to see the ECLIPSE sniper, holding Vereyanka hostage. Ocelot himself grabbed Sobrietsky and did the same thing. Both parties stared at each other, as the couple of Alpha team members kept their sights on Slervansk.
"Let go of him!" Ocelot shouted, angrily.
"Let Sobrietsky go!" Slervansk shouted back, he was far more focused.
"You must be one of Snake's men, right?" Ocelot said, smirking, pressing the Colt up to Sobrietsky's temple.
"Right . . ."
"So, ECLIPSE, huh?"
"What the . . ."
"Yes, the word does spread. An antiterrorism unit formed by members of FOX- HOUND. Sweet irony." Ocelot's eyes were focused on Elijah. He was still hidden behind Vereyanka, who was trying to resist the urge to scream. "You must be Wolf's relative. Your eyes are permanently focused. Your hands don't tremble while holding a gun."
"Is that the reason you discovered me? Thought my appearance was rather distinctive." Elijah side-stepped to the left, in order to face Ocelot directly.
"On another topic, may I give you one small suggestion for the next time you take a man as a human shield?" Ocelot was confident, as usual.
"What?"
"Grab someone I give a shit about." In that split second, Ocelot steered his Single Action Army in Elijah and Vereyanka's direction, the bullet lodging into Vereyanka's brain, pushing him and Elijah to the floor. Elijah got up, from below the corpse and fired a few shots at Ocelot, (the Beretta's sound was less surprising than the G3 strapped to his back), yet the bullets seemed to steer out of the way, while Elijah dived behind cover, dodging an improvised burst from Steyanovich's men.
He hid behind the crate. He could feel the bursts of blood going through his neck, and he tightened his grip on his Beretta as he jumped out of cover, firing, feeling the time slowed down, and landing behind cover; a group of metal shelves, filled with cans, boxes, bottles . . . Falling, pushed by the terrorists' furious gunfire. Elijah grabbed the gun on Steyanovich's hand (a CZ Skorpion sub machinegun) and started firing back. Blowing some elements on the shelves himself. Bullets flying everywhere, it was incredibly stressing. He leaned out of cover and fired a seven-round- burst to Ocelot's head.
To his amazement, the bullets seemed to steer out of the way, one of them amazingly curving and hitting the back of one of the former Spetz Naz soldier's head. The other one kept firing, until his magazine gave up. He started reloading, ready to kill Elijah.
All the gunfire had drowned another sound; helicopter blades, the chopper was landing. Ocelot reloaded his SAA, and turned to the remaining Alpha trooper. "Well, you have proved useful," he commented, as he put the gun next to the last soldier and pressed the trigger, blowing his brains to the next dimension.
Elijah was on the floor, doubting if it was safe to go out. He stood up, to see Ocelot grabbing Sobrietsky by the neck. Elijah fired the little left in Vereyanka's Skorpion's ammo capacity. The bullets seemed to get out of the way. No, it wasn't bad aim; there was something odd about him. Ocelot returned fire with his SAA, the sniper jumped for cover. Ocelot used Sobrietsky as a human shield again until he reached the door.
-- -- --
"Damn! The chopper is there already!" Joshua shouted in frustration, watching the building though the greenish aura the expensive NVG caused, as he and his team ran, under the furious rain, the mud below the grass in the Embassy's grounds made bothersome sounds.
They reached the Warehouse's door, and kicked it open.
-- -- --
Colonel Vereyanka and his men turned around, confident. They hadn't heard the gunfire or the shouting. When he turned to see the open door, allowing a cold breeze and some droplets in. It was dark to see what was behind, but something called his attention; three couples of green dots in the dark. Maybe it was an effect of the rain, but the manual said . . . Night Vision Goggles.
Eclipse busted in, firing wildly at Steyanovich and his crew, while running forward. Object flew spectacularly at the terrorists, pushed by the bullets, like if ECLIPSE was followed by the wind.
The bullets impacted all over Steyanovich and his last men, killing them with style. The Bravo team didn't stop to check if they were dead; they had to follow, and save, Elijah.
-- -- --
Ocelot was angry. He was the only terrorist alive, yet somehow he felt safe, in the rain, with a hostage, walking towards the black chopper. It was a Blackhawk and the pilot inside only stared at him, as he violently threw Sobrietsky inside.
The scene inside was blue-toned. Typical Spec Ops chopper. Ocelot started to motion to get himself in, but . . .
"Freeze!" Elijah shouted, from the rain. His blond hair had lost its shape, now being wet. Elijah held his Beretta with both hands at Ocelot's head, his G3/SG-1 resting behind him. "This is Special Operations ECLIPSE, you cocksucker!"
"Your sister was far more limited in terms of insults." It was a distraction; while he said it, he pulled out his SAA and fired at Slervansk, who in a reflex action jumped leftwards, effectively dodging the bullet. Indeed, the rain fouled Ocelot's aim.
"I have a tank full of napalm ready to blow the Embassy and this block to hell, and it will kill you as soon as I press this button!" Ocelot held up a device, a bomb detonator.
Elijah froze; He was serious. Ocelot would blow that joint if he wanted to, but he knew he had to stop it.
The Kurd returned fire with his M9, the bullets going astray and drawing lines in the water falling from the sky. However, a lucky bullet hit the detonator, breaking it and pushing it below the helicopter, finishing Ocelot's threat. Ocelot well could have threatened to kill Sobrietsky, but Ocelot felt this kid was worth of a gunfight with him, right?
He started firing back with his SAA, feeling the bullets get out of their trajectory right before hitting him in the eyes. Elijah wasn't taking cover. He was dodging Ocelot's bullets as he want along.
Finally, Ocelot fired a bullet, hitting in the floor before Slervansk's feet, raising the water there. Ocelot was now standing on the very edge of the Heliport, a slight push might send him to oblivion. The rain was furious, and Elijah stopped to reconsider. Ocelot aimed to the Sniper's head, trying to blow his brain. However, a bullet came from the night, blowing Ocelot's gun out of his hand.
A woman was holding the sniper rifle. Effectively, she was followed by two other men, with ECLIPSE uniforms. Nadia had picked up Elijah's rifle. At used it well. Ocelot was unarmed, fighting four ECLIPSE shooters. He smiled at the ECLIPSE shooters.
"Congratulations, you have proved yourselves" Ocelot's smile disappeared, as he jumped –rather, back flipped, and fell out of the heliport. Charlie was astonished; He had never seen something like that.
The ECLIPSE members walked to the heliport's ledge; Ocelot wasn't in the street, nowhere to be seen. The team seemed to congregate, as Elijah and Sean shook their hands. Nadia hugged him, too. In Joshua's opinion, the Russian assault shooter and Iraqi sniper were more than friends.
"Great job, team."
-- -- --
The final sweat drop fell off Bogart's forehead as he cut the last cable on the bomb. It was a true mess; cables of several colors were above the SEMXTEX. He let out a breath, as he finished defusing.
"Done."
"Done!?" Dolph's patience had crushed into its limits and gone though.
-- -- --
"They did it!" Snake said, while still holding the radio. "They mother fucking did it! Damn!" He was so proud. The mission was over; all enemies eliminated, but Ocelot had escaped, as usual. The doors trapping Bogart and his crew were blown by Machuttes team. They were now on their way back on Charlie's chopper, but first, they left the hostages at the local FBI office, as usual.
"So, were you expecting them to make it?" Raiden asked, confident.
"Not really, at some points. But shit, they blew my expectations."
"You realize Ocelot was plotting something, right?"
"I did. But right now, I have to make some changes."
"Yeah, I made some calls. Most of the new personnel are on their way, but one is already here, she's really here to assist our wounded boys. Dolph took a bullet in the torso, and Slervansk has his leg stabbed. Not bad, but they wanted FOX-HOUND medic to maintain ECLIPSE's identity as secret as it could be."
"FOX-HOUND medics? You don't mean . . ."
"Missed me, Snake?" The woman's voice was truthful; she had a dark tone, as if she felt guilty.
"Naomi?"
-- -- --
-- -- --
Author's note; Here goes another. I didn't require much help this time, except from my dad, a Chemist, who explained to me how Napalm worked. Hope you enjoyed, and expect some of the first chapters re-vamped. And as always, the good old Simon Wolf-Gough, for his always helpful suggestions and corrections.
"Ocelot?" Snake's voice, probably for the first time in his life since Meryl left him, started croaking. He was broken; nothing made sense.
"Solid Snake?" The voice of the devil came back to him, and Snake turned his hand into a fist to let go of the adrenaline. "What a pleasant surprise."
"Save it, you son of a bitch!" Snake shouted, and wavered to Otacon to hack into the Security Camera: The Technocrat was stunned: ECLIPSE team Bravo was pinned down by three armed soldiers and a group of men, among them Ocelot, who was confidently speaking through the radio.
"Snake, who would have foreseen that you had joined the Patriots."
"You work for them to begin with, you stinking piece of shit. What happened to Liquids arm, and RAY? " Snake forgot secrecy. None of his men knew what had gone on that April 30th, and he didn't really give a fuck.
"If you mean that bothersome appendix . . ." He looked down, to his arm, smaller than the last time Snake saw it. Of course, back in the day, that arm seemed inflated in comparison to the rest of Ocelot's anatomy. "I got rid of it. As of RAY, well, let's just say my friends in the Russian Black Market will have some fun rides with it. By the way, that intelligence on the patriots was bogus."
"Congratulations, now what the fuck do you want?!"
"It's not for me, really. You see, these two KGB Colonels are here to oversee our newest purchase."
"REX?"
"Exactly. Despite that Shadow Moses was a particularly destructive event, one of the buyers of that little MO disk was the La-Li-Lu-Le-Lo" Ocelot seemed to ignore his men, as well. At the same time, Colonel Vassov grabbed the other radio.
"So, you are done working for the Patriots."
"They hired me in the first place." Ocelot explained, in that "know-it-all" tone that gave Snake the urge of shooting his crotch. "My contract is over."
"So now you run guns with your good ol' friends from the Soviet Union, charming."
"If you want to put it that way . . ." Ocelot turned to his men. Otacon's eyes were also tracking them. It was no surprise, Vassov and Vereyanka were unsurprised. Steyanovich seemed surprised, but he was controlled. But Arbatov was getting jumpy. The regular Russian didn't go to the bathroom without planning, and in combat situations (when even the most reckless American would do a plan) being with one made the Russians loose morale quickly. "Snake, actually I do have one request." "Make it quick."
"I want a ride for me, Colonels Vassov and Vereyanka, and Captain Steyanovich and his men." Jack wrote it all down on paper, giving a total of 11 people, enough to fit in a Blackhawk chopper, namely Charlie's.
"What about Major Arbatov and his boys?" Snake asked, trying to detonate Arbatov. It worked. "Any way, I will keep my word, as long as you don't kill the hostages. Do we have a deal?" Ocelot nodded, while watching Arbatov.
"He is right, Ocelot. You won't leave me!" Arbatov shouted. Snake had seen Ocelot turning over his allies; he had with Gurklukovich, with Solidus . . . And now with Arbatov.
"I'm sorry, Major, but you and the grunts can go to hell!" Ocelot was playing it as usual: He would now wait until Arbatov lost his temper and gave him a reason to kill him.
Yet Arbatov remained still, frozen by fear. Gurlukovich and Solidus were brave men, and Arbatov was now betrayed by authority. How could it be? Arbatov had been raised his whole life taking orders; from his father, from his Sergeant, from the Communist Party . . . The idea of betrayal by either of those parties was unthinkable.
So he stood there, frozen. Ocelot's usual plan had not worked, but Ocelot didn't budge; he pulled out his Colt Single Action. Snake didn't say a word. Would he kill the hostages? The ECLIPSE operators? Arbatov?
Ocelot as turned, bending his arm and fired, the .45 Magnum bullet was ejected from the gun, braking the air away as it lunged through Major Arbatov's brain, turning his grey matter into a reddish fluid that painted the door.
The smoke dispersed, as the brainless Arbatov fell, blood oozing from his mouth, and the eyes wide open, staring into the nothing. Ocelot twirled his gun, as he moved it at the height of his mouth and blew the smoke out of the hot barrel, like in a Western. He turned to Steyanovich.
"Captain, order one of your remaining response team to trap Arbatov's troops in the dining room. We have a surprise there for them." For some reason, Snake felt like Ocelot had forgotten he left the radio on, but then again, knowing Ocelot, chances were slim.
"Yes sir, I'll take the men from the basement. I can't call them by Radio, so I'll order it myself."
"Of course. Are those men willing to die for their cause?"
"As any Spetz Naz, my general. My self, I'll take the other team and secure the Heliport in order to receive our Limo." Snake just then realized of his mistake; If Steyanovich and his grunts went to the Heliport, Elijah would be in deep shit. "These three will take care of our American friends," he said as he watched the cowering ECLIPSE Bravo members.
"Don't worry, I'll go with you." Ocelot clarified. "Vereyanka, you will also come with us. Vassov?"
"Yes, my general?" The young KGB Colonel asked, enthusiasm burning in his eyes.
"Take one of the hostages, Mr. Stevens there, and go to the rooftop. Negotiate with the capitalist hogs." Vassov stared wildly into James's eyes. He was skinny and his hair the usual pulled back using some sort of gel. The business man 's mind seemed to erupt in fear, as Vassov grabbed him and put the Skorpion he had brought with him up James's neck, and dragged him out of the room.
"Ocelot, I hate to interrupt" Vereyanka forced Ocelot to face him. "But we may have to take a hostage. Might I recommend our beloved VIP hostage, Ambassador Andrei Sobrietsky?"
"Good thinking." Ocelot said. "As for Snake . . ." He raised the Colt Single Action, and fired at the camera, making a show of spars as Otacon backed from the monitor when he saw the image turn into a fest of white and gray. Ocelot cut communication with Snake, too.
Ocelot and company walked out, except for the three Alpha Commandos. They all got into combat stance. A firefight was the only thing either team visualized in the future. Joshua attacked first: He didn't even jump out of cover: He turned (he had his back resting in the turned table he used as cover) and started firing through the expensive wood, the bullets easily piercing it and lodging themselves in one of the commandos. The other two fired through the wood as well, as Joshua rolled out of cover and fired, yet this time the enemy took cover.
It was clear: As good defenders of the Marxist way of life, the former Spetz Naz weren't able to deal with surprises, but when they had come up with a plan, they were invincible.
Nadia ran out of cover, firing and keeping the tango low. The hostages were still moaning, hearing the "discussion of lead". Sean also peeked out of cover and started firing his AK; pinning down the two terrorists.
Neither of them gave up. From their trench, behind the Ambassador's desk, they threw a Russian made grenade that twirled in the air, towards Sean's improvised foxhole. At the same time, Nadia went into a prone position in a few seconds after almost being hit by a burst of Kalashnikov fire, and now she was afraid of moving an inch, with the fear of being hit by both friendly and enemy fire. All in a split second.
The grenade fell right next to the concentrated Sean Rodriguez. The Mexican scout grabbed an additional magazine for the AK, from a near terrorist body, as he saw it: The greenish round device from hell; a grenade. Soviet made grenades had longer fuses than the American M67. Sean punched it, sending out of his foxhole.
The explosive bounced off the wall and exploded in the middle of the furious crossfire, the shrapnel (a high quantity of metal shards disposed to be spread all over with the explosion, practically doing more damage than the explosion itself) stabbing everything near it.
Nadia was still cowering, probably in panic. As the higher ranking officer, Joshua needed to be the hero. He raised his G36K and fired at the lights above the terrorists, the rain of sparks burning them through the Kevlar. They were screaming, knowing that the distraction of pain meant the enemy was preparing an attack, so they kept firing, trying to keep the ECLIPSE team at bay. Their mistake was to fire in Sean and Joshua's direction, forgetting Nadia.
She was now a ball of nerves. Joshua didn't order it, but she felt it was her duty; it was HER job to finish of those commie pricks, no matter what. And she had given the chance. It was like when she had to rappel. Did she want to do it? No. Was she scared? Yes. But then, she remembered something the Tactical Advisor, Jack Sears, told her when she was scared during her first heavy weapon training session. She could still hear, among the gun fire, Sears's voice.
"Being brave is not being afraid of nothing, that's just being an idiot. Being brave is having fear, I dare to say that you should be shitting your pants, but still getting up and doing the mother fucking job."
She could hear Jack, still, as she got up, gritting her teeth, and then she stood up, aimed the G36K, just as one of the terrorist spotted her and called his comrade's attention.
By the time they looked at that woman in SWAT outfit, she smashed the trigger; a haze of 5.56 x 45mm bullets jumped from the mouth of her rifle, punching through the balaclavas and killing both of them, the bullets that pieced one terrorist lodged in the other, living (at the time), terrorist. All three enemies were dead.
-- -- --
John stopped; his mind focus on what was ahead, as his Green Beret trainer repeated to him in all exercises. The blood was pumping, as Bobby Bogart checked the door.
"Fuck, it's locked," Booby commented. "Listen, I can't blow this shit. Not without nailing the hostages. I'll try to pick the lock." He finished, pulling out the lock picks. John looked at the corridor they had come though. Clear.
"So, enjoying this ride?"
"Kidding? I'm about to puke. It's too much tension." He said, fighting the lock.
"Sure. Hey, are you sure this is the mess hall?"
"A hundred percent, man. I've studied the plan of the Embassy on the way here."
"What for?"
"Possible bomb locations."
"You are kidding right? Damn Bob, you are so funny"
"John, chances are the terrorists left a bomb near the hostages. It is the quickest form of elimination. I shit you not."
John became alert again. He was having a bad feeling.
"Done." The bomb disposal agent informed. "Check for hostiles."
John complied, and opened the door violently. Amazingly, no hostages were present. The dining room was large, a light blue toned walls, with long tables. Obviously not meant for the usual Embassy diners, more like for feeding the Embassy personnel. There wasn't much cover (except hiding below the tables) so combat would be quick.
"There!" One of the Russians shouted, sitting in one of the tables, turning and alerting another comrade, waiting by the kitchen. In that second, John put a bullet right into the first terrorist, sending him flying him off, with a bullet stuck in his head. The other one fired once, hitting the door that Dolph had opened, The African-American blasted in, while Bobby followed him, shooting and hitting the bastard in the chest, killing him.
The battle was quick, but suddenly, over eight of Arbatov's troops came in from the kitchen and they all set into firing position, all near each other, causing a huge firestorm. But they had ignored that one of the antiterrorists (John Reilly Dolph) had a grenade launcher attached to his assault rifle.
The private rolled out of the way of the first rain of lead, and from below a table, he pressed the trigger forward to the magazine, activating the Grenade launcher; a 40mm round of silver colors flew towards the terrorist contingent, hitting in the middle of the human mass.
A sudden ball of fire, followed by an explosion, appeared, sending the terrorists flying in all directions, bashing themselves at the walls of the dinning room. The two counter terrorists whispered, releasing the adrenaline.
"What a show!" Both turned, to see a familiar face.
"Nick! You worthless son of a bitch!" Dolph joked, in his own way of saying his buddy that he loved him, as he hugged him. Bogart was the only one of alert now. The other ones were relaxed, yet Robert felt something was not right.
"Nick, what's going on?"
"We only have 20 minutes left before satellite uplink."
"Wait, I need to call Snake." John pulled out his radio, and called the ETHQ.
"Commander Snake?"
"Snake here. What's up?"
"Boss, no hostages at the dining room"
"What?"
"Yeah. I guess it was a barrack. Any ideas on where the hostages are held?"
"Wait . . ." The commander looked at the Thermal Image of the Embassy. Besides the heat concentration in the Dining room there was no other. Where could they be? "Have you checked the guest rooms?"
"No . . ."
"I suggest you start there."
Snake cut, and they both looked at Nikolai.
"Listen, wanna join for the ride?"
"Sure. I guess my accuracy rifle would work in this joint." He said, looking at his L96.
"Sure. Let's rock these bitches!" After this line of bravado, Dolph reloaded his AG36 grenade launcher.
Bogart walked swiftly to the door. A new mission objective. He reached for the door. No use, it was closed. It was the same one he had picked, so it was impossible it was locked. In other words, someone had blocked him and the rest. They were trapped.
"Guys! Shit! They freaking got us!" he shouted.
"Can't we blow the door?" Nick asked, looking at the torn apart corpses.
"Nope. There's no amount of explosives I have to blow a door that is blocked like that."
"So we are fucked?"
"In other words . . ."
"That's not our only problem . . ." Nick stopped, and turned to look at a black box near the first dead terrorist. It looked . . . Like a bomb!
"Shit!" Bogart shouted. It was clearly Czechoslovakian made SEMTEX, attached to a barrel, likely filled with liquid.
"What do you think that barrel has?" Dolph asked.
"In the best case, kerosene. That would only kill us, but the rest of the facility would make it. This place is made to be flame resistant." He said, looking around.
"And in the worst?"
"Some sort of petroleum derivate cocktail. Probably gasoline mixed with some other petroleum derivate."
"In English?" Nick asked.
"Napalm." Dolph said, blankly
"Oh shit"
-- -- --
"Snake!" Jack entered violently as always, not surprising Snake, (which is, by the way, impossible) but he did wake him up. And analyzing the situation was no fun.
"What's up?"
"Check the phone. We are being called by Barlett."
"Barlett? As in Thomas Barlett, director of the National Security Agency?"
"Yes."
"I'll take it." Snake didn't know what to do. It wasn't usual to deal with such a high-profile character in the US intelligence community. "Hello?"
"David . . ." Barlett's voice was disapproving, even when comforting you. He was completely well prepared, lacking human emotions; he was a well- greased machine, who though about business (in his case, Ciphering and deciphering transmissions, basic duty of the NSA).
"I prefer Snake." Snake answered, cuttingly.
"Sure, Snake." Barlett seemed to be a decent negotiator. "Am I to understand that you are still in negotiations with the terrorists?"
"That's correct."
"Snake, I just got word from the White House. They seemed to have come to a deal with the terrorists."
"What? You negotiated with the terrorists behind my back, knowing I'm the one in charge?"
"Relax, we are not giving REX. Bu t the situation has grown unbearable to both parties. Ocelot wants a breather."
"By Ocelot you mean all the terrorists . . ."
"No, just Ocelot. To my understanding, the rest of his associates are kept in the dark. I dare to say they think they are going to Cuba to reorganize their assault. They must believe they are the soviet Che Guevara."
"Since you've performed so greatly undercover, why do you bring this to my attention?" Snake wanted to think it had never happened.
"You see, Snake, Ocelot says in public he wants safety for his officers and his Elite. But he's lying. He knows he'll never get REX. I believe he just dragged the two KGB Colonels to make an over-done execution for his former comrades."
"Why would he do that?" Snake wondered aloud.
"Snake, listen. Steyanovich believes that one US agency is offering him salvation, the other one is attacking. The Alpha Team knows they are fucked. The problem with democracy is the lack of coordination between government entities. Vereyanka and Vassov know that. But we'll use that to our advantage. He may believe that the NSA is offering him salvation, and your boys offer death."
"And this means?"
"This means that to the eyes of his men, you are still enemies. Ocelot's men will believe they've been caught in a conflict of interests."
"And what do we win?"
"Ocelot lives, the rest dies."
"You still haven't explained my why I need to know."
"Because I want your pilot to pretend he is flying Ocelot to safety."
"Why him?"
"There are too many people involved already."
"Aha." Snake realized that like always, he was a puppet.
"That's it." Barlett finished dryly. "Bye."
The phone disconnected, and Snake rubbed his head. "Go to hell."
-- -- --
Hal Emmerich was not made for this. The stress was overwhelming, and he didn't think of himself as strong enough to deal with the pressure. He had been "the contact" several times before, but this was not the same. Then, it was Snake, a mercenary, a hero, a man that feared no one.
This time, it was just a bunch of kids. He was older than all of them (One year older than the eldest ECLIPSE, Joshua Machuttes) and he felt a connection. He was now in charge. Both Snake and Jack were entangled in a discussion with Monroe and her crew. It was unfair; five years ago, he didn't have any goddamn idea of concepts that now were daily for him.
The tactical radio released a beep; He was getting a call. Snake was distracted, talking, so, why not?
"Hello?"
"Who is this?" A Russian accented voice, that released hatred, sounded.
Hal was frozen. He turned to Snake, while keeping the radio down.
"Snake! Dr. Hanson is needed! I have a terrorist here!"
Snake wavered out. Hanson was probably assessing what was the enemy plan. Otacon started thinking; What if he negotiated? He knew a bit, he was better talking that fighting, and that he was the only one that could do it. He took a look through the monitor, reflecting a satellite lens; a man with a radio stood in the rooftop, holding a gun to a man's neck, who was on his knees.
"Can you hear me?"
"Yes, I'm here."
"What's you name?"
"Call me . . ." He decided not to lie. He was becoming a negotiator. "My name is Doctor Hal Emmerich, Ph. D in . . ." He could have said he was an electro mechanics specialist, but he deiced to lie. "Ph. D in Criminal Psychology."
"I'll instruct you on my terms, Doctor Emmerich. My name is Colonel Illich Vassov, from the Committee of State Security. You will refer to me as Colonel Vassov. Second, if you have any snipers aiming at me, I suggest you withdraw them, or otherwise I will kill the hostage. Finally, I will make it clear that in should any point my requests are not fulfilled, I'll kill James Stevens."
"Colonel Vassov, may I ask first to you which are your demands?"
"My associates have already asked for a helicopter. I want the promise that such won't go off course and won't be shut down until it reaches a country with no extradition treaty, namely Cuba."
"That can be done" Hal wrote it down. No need, there was an NSA analyst doing a transcript.
"Good."
"Colonel, myself, I have a request. You can get your freedom, but we need you to give us the hostages."
"Shut up, American imbecile!" Typical of the soviet style of negotiation, the Russian wanted to get and not give. "We also want the Metal Gear"
"I'm afraid that's beyond us." Otacon informed. "Still, if you want the REX, I think you should let the hostages go."
"Listen! I don't give a fuck what you think! You give me the ride and the Metal Gear, and James here lives!" Vassov shouted, while pressing the barrel of the Skorpion into James's scalp, the latter of which was sobbing.
It was fucking impossible. How to negotiate with a psychopathic gorilla like Vassov? But he had to. There was no choice. He had to save James Stevens. But then, he doubted. Was he really that good of a negotiator? Back in Shadow Moses, he failed to stop Snake . . . he tried to clear his head. Probably Dr. Hanson would have Vassov eating of his hand, but Otacon had to focus.
"I'm sorry, Vassov, but that's not enough. Even though a single man is more important to us than to you, Mr. Stevens is not worth the millions put in risk by Metal Gear."
"Good! Don't give us the Metal Gear, I'll just kill Stevens!" The madman removed the safety of his Skorpion. Hal was frozen, but he had to act. Now he was the hero. Now he was saving lives.
"No! That's not what I meant! Maybe we should find a balance!"
"Look who's talking about balance! A capitalist, whose system defends a few rich and spits on the poor."
"I'm sure capitalism has its flaws. But . . ."
"Shut up! Can't you see you are the villains here! Yours is a system that values freedom more than life! I spit on your freedom!"
"Listen, calm yourself. Capitalism and Communism have their differences, but both defend human life!" Hal was lying. The communists never gave shit about human life.
"Are you sure?"
"OK, you are right. Capitalism is wrong and unfair, Communism is the right answer. But is it worth killing millions with Metal Gear?" Hal was lying again. He shuddered. He was like a politician, faking an opinion to save something. Only he was trying to save a life, whereas politicians try to save votes.
"You are lying, Comrade Emmerich." Vassov dragged Stevens to face another direction, checking for snipers. Despite what Vassov confidently (and stupidly) thought, there was a sniper aiming at him. "But I'm not a barbarian like you. I have decided that I, belonging to a more civilized way of life, will let go of Mr. Stevens if you bring your helicopter here now."
"Of course. Look southeast. See that chopper? It has been refueled and it's ready to transport you and your comrades to safety." What did he just say? He said he was the more civilized than him? In Hal's opinion, it was like if Hitler called Winston Churchill a "racist".
"Ah! Who could say that I, a noble defender of the Marxist way of life was to agree with a shallow capitalist dog like you?" Otacon didn't get Vassov. He was clearly insulting him and his political beliefs, and he thought of himself as a hero. How stupidly tragic. "By the way, I lied"
Otacon's heart stopped, as the terrorist turned of the radio, kicked Stevens (dropping him to the floor) and aimed the CZ Skorpion to his brain. Even watching him from space, like Otacon was, one could tell that Stevens was crying sincerely, afraid for his life.
He had a wife, a daughter, and a baby boy. A family, and even if he had trouble at work, he would get out of his slump. He had a family, a home, and friends. How could this stupid motherfucker even have the courage to think he was entitled to kill him, just because he thought his political system was superior to his? Was politics worth killing a man, leaving a woman widow and two kids orphans? Andrei was right; these men were insane.
Vassov was smiling, as he watched a desperate James and turned, looking at the warehouse/heliport. He then looked down and aimed at James. His huge smile was like that of a psychopath, glad to kill a representative of the capitalist war machine, like the members of the Politburo called them. He looked again upwards, in order to release the adrenaline of the execution.
James felt like he was going to die. The maniac was looking upwards, releasing the thrill. He sobbed a bit, and then looked up at his killer. He was going to die. Yeah, he was. And there was nothing anyone could do about it.
Vassov, released the tension, and then prepared to kill James. Just then, he stared into the warehouse/heliport, and watched a figure stand there. It was a man. Caucasian, blond, wearing a BDU similar to those he had seen in the Office. Yet this man was looking at him from a distance, and he had something in his arms. Then, Illich's smile disappeared, and then turned to into an expression similar to James's; the one of a man that realized that he was going to die. The blond man in the heliport was cradling in his arms . . .
A sniper rifle.
Elijah Mahmoud Slervansk aimed his G3/SG-1 to Vassov's head, while holding his breath to steady his aim, and pulled the trigger. The 7.62 x 51mm bullet was the fire ejected from the mouth of the dragon, speeding through the night, like an eagle closing on its prey.
The bullet entered Vassov's head, pushing it backwards, and went all over through his brain, and finally going through Vassov's cerebellum and aorta artery, releasing its contents within Vassov's brain. Since his blood pressure was high due to the combat stress, the injured Aorta blew, literally forcing his head to explode.
James Stevens was bathing in blood, as he saw Vassov's head less body fall, but he didn't care. He was still going to see his daughter and son again. He turned to the blond man with the sniper rifle. He wavered to him, like saying thanks.
The blond man saluted him in a military style. They were more than 50 meters away, but both James and Elijah could see the one on the other side smiling. One was glad to be alive. And the other one was glad to help.
James grabbed the radio, lying next to the stylishly decapitated corpse.
"Hello? Who's there?"
"I'm Dr. Hal Emmerich. Are you alright, sir?"
"Are you the sniper that killed that man?"
"That was me" Elijah interrupted, making an effort to hide the accent (and portray a cheap American accent) and make Stevens believe he was a Washington PD SWAT Sniper.
"Who are you people?"
"We are here to save you." Otacon said, calming him.
"I noticed that."
"Sir, I need you to stay there. And not do anything stupid." Otacon added.
"I will, don't worry" He said, grabbing the Skorpion, taking it from Vassov's static fingers.
"Good. Don't go out of that rooftop. Some of our men will come for you, ok?"
"Ok . . ."
-- -- --
"We're fucked." Solid Snake admitted. When he was a grunt, he limited himself to saying "Damn" but this was too much responsibility to stick to correct language.
"What is it?" Dr. Hanson was far more correct in his speech, being an English gentleman. He was the only non-American in the support crew, but that would change soon. They were clearly understaffed, and they would recruit far more personnel during the following missions.
"Corporal Robert Bogart found an explosive device within the Embassy. According to him, it's a sort of Incendiary bomb. He can't tell which type until he is sure to know how to prevent detonation. He still considers the possibility of a Napalm bomb."
"Napalm?" The psychologist asked, he ignored a quarter of all the military terms Snake and company used.
Jack Sears began explaining.
"It's a petroleum derivate composite, created during WWII to destroy everything and everyone within a confined space. It is a mixture of Gasoline and other petroleum derivates. It causes burning far worse than regular fire, it is hotter and is impossible to put down, you only can wait until it all burns out. It was prohibited in the Geneva Convention during the 70's, due to the horrible contaminations it causes. However, it is the only effective way to neutralize chemical weapons, so it was legalized just before Gulf War 1."
"And suppose this bomb went off" William Sharp asked. "What kind of effect would it have on the area?"
"A massive fireball. It would cremate everyone within the Embassy within three seconds. The structure would fall apart, and it is likely that every human being in the square would receive third level burnings. The air would be so polluted one out of a hundred people in the city would have lung affections, and one out of ten thousands would die of Lung Cancer."
"Holy shit . . ." Snake let go.
"Yes, really nasty stuff."
"Mr. Sears, isn't it possible that the device is not an Incendiary bomb, but rather a Chemical weapons projector?" Katya asked, trying to se if she was really being shown the worst case scenario.
"Impossible, Sub Commander. You see, the detonator of the bomb is not the Napalm itself, but other, more traditional way of explosives. In the Vietnam War, they were attached to standard bomber warheads, launched from Bombers. Our man identified the detonator as Czechoslovakian made SEMTEX If the liquid inside the tank is contaminated with Chemical weapons, the SEMTEX would incinerate them." Raiden informed, and watched Snake wince.
"How much time is it going to take for Corporal Bogart to disarm the device?" Sharp asked.
"There's no way we can tell, but I guess that over 40 minutes."
"Is it to my understanding that the team is trapped?" Monroe asked.
"It is" Snake admitted "But they have a job to do. Another team is working by the clock to release the hostages."
"And the snipers?"
"One is trapped with team Epsilon. The other one is still in the heliport." Snake commented.
"Snake . . ." Raiden called, blankly.
"What?" Snake asked, directly.
"Didn't Ocelot say he and his men would go to the heliport to escape?"
"I sent Charlie to go there." Snake said.
"Snake you . . ." Raiden controlled himself, knowing Snake was his commander.
"Jack, if you want to call me a fucking idiot you can."
"Snake, first, you mean you will let Ocelot go?"
"Jack, put yourself in my position. I have to save those hostages. If I haven't agreed with Ocelot, the hostages would be dead, and the bomb may have gone off. Just because they are enemies we can't just kill them."
"And second, what about Elijah?"
"What do you mean?"
"Elijah is guarding that place. In the original mission plan, he was meant to get reinforcements, but both teams are delayed. Even though he is a good shooter and a smart soldier, Elijah Slervansk is not prepared to fight a Spetz Naz captain, two KGB Colonels and a member of FOXHOUND at the same time."
Snake had been screwed: He hadn't considered that. "Shit."
"Can't you order Slervansk out?" Monroe asked.
"No use. There's an enemy security camera in place. It is very smartly located, and there's no way he can go through. He managed to bypass it, since Otacon hacked into it, but I doubt it will work again."
"Is there any possibility that Slervansk might avoid confrontation?" Sharp continued.
"Now that's semantics. If you mean hide, it's a possibility, but members of ECLIPSE never had advanced stealth training. If you mean surrender, that's impossible. I don't, nor does the NSA; nor does the DOD, desire to see a member of a top secret special unit as a hostage."
"Are you absolutely positive Slervansk doesn't stand a chance?" Monroe asked, wondering if ECLIPSE was truly that inexperienced.
"In combat, you can never be absolutely sure of everything. Is it a possibility that Slervansk can kill Steyanovich, Vereyanka, Vassov, Ocelot and four Alpha team members armed only with an M9 pistol and his intelligence? Believe it or not, it is possible. Unlikely, but possible. However, I won't run the risk. I want to talk to him."
"It's not so easy, Snake" Raiden explained. "If he calls us, it's not so bad, if we are the ones calling, and initiating burst transmission. We need to begin an encryption protocol and . . ."
"Than what the fuck are you doing just talking here? Go!" Snake snapped.
Sharp though for a second. "Doctor Hanson, in an extreme situation, such as an eight-on-one gun fight, ho would Slervansk react?"
"Being the unit psychologist, I asses that a man of Slervansk background would be able to keep his cool and stay out of harm's way." Hanson explained. "He would probably hide and, if caught, try to delay the enemy as he tries to escape. I doubt he'll try to fight Ocelot and his men face- to-face, and I find it unconceivable for Elijah to surrender.
"Sub commander Monroe, do you considers Slervansk to be expendable?" Sharp asked, cautiously.
"No mother fucking way." Snake interrupted.
"Snake . . ."
"I won't just stand here while one of my boys dies out there." One of his boys. Damn, he felt close to those kids. It was something he wasn't expecting. He never had. And that situation, for example, was no exception. Five years ago, executing Sniper Wolf with a neat .45 gunshot in the forehead he had absolutely no fucking idea that he would end up trying to save that woman's brother's life.
Otacon walked in, confusedly
"Snake, Raiden just entered my PC like crazy, you know."
"Let him. It's really important."
"I have no problem with that."
"Then?"
"Snake, Vassov is dead."
"What?"
"Elijah killed him. Sniper Rifle shot. To the head." Otacon explained. He wasn't used to watch people die, but . . .
Snake could see Sharp grin. "Great job, kid!" Like talking to Elijah through some sort of telepathy.
"Anything else?"
"Yeah. I just pick up and enemy transmission, it seems Epsilon has been trapped purposefully. The team responsible for the locking is meeting with Ocelot's crew somewhere in the Embassy, but we do know they are taking the main corridor in the third floor."
"Is team Bravo free?" Snake asked.
"Think so." Sharp said.
"Then tell Machuttes and his men to drag their asses and take out those monkeys." Snake said, violently. "Otacon, tell Raiden to order that to Machuttes and his men, all right?"
"Aren't the squad's radios in hands of the terrorists?"
"Right . . ."
"I have an idea . . ." Monroe proposed, in a short manner. "Our advanced team was given CODEC . . . Maybe Rodriguez still has his"
"It's worth trying."
"Then do it." Snake ordered, and Otacon obeyed.
-- -- --
"Ok, moving out." Rodriguez responded, through the CODEC, and cut off communications.
"Who was that?" Slonoskvo asked, with her usual curiousness.
"Dr. Emmerich. He says there's an enemy squad in the hallway just ahead. "
"So?" Machuttes couldn't care less.
"Apparently, the government will accept to let the bad guys go this time, without the Metal Gear. The bad boys wanna escape, and thus they need to grab a chopper in the heliport. Elijah is posted there. If Steyanovich's troops get there is really a large possibility that our favorite Iraqi sharpshooter will turn into cottage cheese."
"You know, Sean, your sense of humor sucks," Nadia said back, worried for her comrade, "Emmerich is right, we need to go there and flush out those bastards."
"I don't know . . ." Joshua doubted. Being commander of team Bravo meant that the safety of the members under his command was his absolute responsibility.
"C'mon. It's orders." Rodriguez was the first to turn, and Nadia followed him quickly. Machuttes stared at both of them for a while, and then decided to join them.
-- -- --
"Elijah? Are you there?" Snake called, once Raiden had given him the speaker of the Command radio.
"Here I am. What's wrong?"
"Listen carefully. The government has given in to half of their demands."
"Really? They are just going to let them go, won't they?" The sniper's voice tone was dark and at the same time, conscious.
"Elijah, the NSA has ordered me to let go of Ocelot. I can't fuck with these guys. They fuck with me." Snake stopped, after flushing out his frustration. "He's headed to the Heliport to be picked by Charlie."
"Wait, you are saying that if I get in Ocelot's way I'm dead?"
"That's correct. And don't even dream to resist, because he has escorts, OK?"
"OK, I'll lay low."
"Don't lay low. Be inexistent." Snake said a phrase he had learnt from "The Hell Master", AKA McDonnell Miller, back in his days in FOX-HOUND to reflect hiding to avoid a passing enemy force. "If you want some advice, I suggest you get the hell out of there undetected."
"That's not the worse news" The agent explained.
"What are they?" Snake predicted the Sergeant's words.
"They are already in their way here." He explained; through the 5x scope attached to the G3/SG-1, clear as day, a group of men walked through the yard slowly, like enjoying a walk. One of them was recognizable from the Shadow Moses VR; Revolver Ocelot.
Now that was a man Elijah wouldn't like to face in a gun fight. There was no denial; he had to get out . . .
"Elijah, don't worry. Forget your sniping mission. Your mission objective is to stay alive."
" . . . " The look on Elijah's face was grim; He was trapped, and the wound in his thigh wouldn't help when the painkillers stopped acting. Looking up, he noticed that the clouds were growing. A storm was coming.
"Elijah, don't die on me." Snake said it in an absolutely frank tone. He wasn't only telling the truth, he was also expressing what he felt.
"All right . . ."
-- -- --
What the fuck was going on now? Charlie asked himself over and over. That CTA, Jack Sears, had just ordered him to turn around . . . And pick up the enemies? If was likely that the government had gone over his head on this one, but what if he was taken hostage?
Why him? Why not some cheap FBI pilot? Stupid question. In an absolutely black op, like ECLIPSE's, they needed a pilot that was able to keep a secret, even after the third beer in Fort Meade's lounge bar. And he was perfect, wasn't him? He had been a FOX-HOUND pilot of the last ten years, almost eleven. Back in the day, he flew cheap cargo choppers and getting agents under cover. Including rescuing Solid Snake in Zanzibar.
He tried to make a sense that what happened to Zanzibar. Yeah. After the fall of its military regime, and the total annihilation of their special weapons (Metal Gear and Oilix) it was assaulted by three Chinese armored divisions, and it became part of the Peoples Republic of China.
Back on the task at hand, he remembered the not so improbable chance that he could be taken hostage. But true was that if he was put a gun at his head, he could just turn off the engine of his UH-60K Blackhawk and send those fucks to the next generation. He grimed. He had so much power in his hands. But he wasn't young anymore; he couldn't ride those amazing Apaches he grew up with, not even think about the Stealth version of the Apache attack chopper, the Comanche.
No, it was for young boys. He was now a transport chopper pilot, a ferryman for wet works operatives. His V-shaped jaw seemed to bend when he smiled. Damn, he was old. And now that his bosses were submitting to a bunch of terrorists . . .
He steered the Blackhawk and decided to take a fly-by the heliport. Just to get the feeling for it.
-- -- --
"So?" Dolph was growing impatient. That was no problem to Amerstraus, who was a sniper and was used to tiring wait periods. John stared at Bob, who was sitting right in front of the bomb, staring at it, yet doing nothing. "Aren't you going to do anything?"
"John, like it or not, bomb disposal is a dangerous job, and I need concentration, OK?"
"Suit yourself" Dolph said, with an exasperated tone.
"Does it look active?" Nick, due to his sniping background, more relaxed.
"No . . . It seems its radio controlled" "So, do you think the bad guys have the detonator?"
"For sure." He said.
"Do you think you can defuse it?"
"I don't do miracles."
-- -- --
The crosshair moved, only a few inches, to start pointing at Ocelot's chest. Through the scope of Elijah's rifle, the group of terrorists seemed to walk easily. It was tensioning. The roar of Charlie's helicopter, even though distant, was present and kept Elijah focused. Because if the NSA had indeed given up to the terrorists' demands, it would be an ECLIPSE chopper that would drive Ocelot and his men to safety.
The Russians still dragged a hostage, held by two Alpha Commandos. With large cheeks, bald, could it be they were using Ambassador Sobrietsky as a human shield? Those men were not only hardcore professionals; they had guts, because when you mess with a Russian diplomat, you mess with Russia. And experience told Elijah Russia was a country you didn't want to mess with. Even after Yeltsin's coup, the Russian military were a bunch of bad asses. Drunk, badly paid, depressed, rebellious, bad asses.
They were now on open ground. What if he killed Ocelot? No, they would execute the hostage. Still, wouldn't they anyway? Ocelot was the one forward; Vereyanka and Steyanovich followed him, and a team of four men behind, acting as escorts, and dragging Sobrietsky. Maybe, if he killed carrier, he would have time to . . . No, he was delusional if he though that could work. He kept staring into scope, hoping something would come up.
-- -- --
"I think I got them!" Rodriguez said, while peeking from a corner. A human mass; the remaining Alpha team, was running, each behind another like a snake. Every step taken by the group lead Sean's heart beat rate slightly higher, to the point he was virtually twitching.
"Do we ambush them?" Machuttes asked. He was ready to kill. His gripped on the G36K was noticeable and so was the look on his eyes. He was expectant; it was the rush of combat that kept some soldiers in the frontlines.
"Almost . . ." Sean whispered. The team was so close, almost three meters . . . He hid his head, and returned to the darkness, with the rest of his crew. The team was concentrated on their mission they just passed through the corner, and that gave the chance to Machuttes who ran behind them.
He was now staring at the enemies back. It was too much tension, he was sweating, the combat high raising his blood pressure levels to extraordinary stages . . . he needed to release it, and he shouted.
"Die, you bastards!" He told his enemy he as stood there. And that was one of the worst mistakes one could make.
The Russians turned, stopping from their walk to see that man aiming that rifle . . . And shooting. The fourth soldier was machine gunned instantly, the other ones spreading into cover. The other three took cover behind some columns in the hallway, firing furiously. Joshua ran into cover.
Russian design was clearly inspired in Byzantine architecture. Columns were at the sides of hall, now being hit by Kalashnikov rounds, being demolished, the shards of material littering the floor, breaking the ceramic, along with tons of empty bullet casings.
"Shit! You stupid fuck!" Rodriguez expressed himself. He knew Machuttes was higher ranked, but he couldn't give less. "I have an idea!" He shouted, drowned by the gunfire and the sound of the wall and columns shattering, ridding the floor with debris.
He grabbed a cylindrical shaped grenade, similar to the flash bang, and removed the safety. Slonoskvo recognized them; she was one of the first ECLIPSE members to be recruited and back in the day, ECLIPSE didn't use Flash bangs to divert the enemy, they used Smoke Grenades.
John threw it to the gunfire. The smoke started to spread, but one of the bullets pierced the grenade, making the smoke spread faster He knew it wouldn't work; smoke only worked with rookies that stayed in one place while shooting. Hardened veterans like those would try to dissipate the smoke, or try to overcome it; through the thick black smoke, the enemy put on their NVG and started firing again. Rodriguez was expecting that.
Machuttes understood the tactic, and turned on the flashlight attached to the G36K and turning the NVG on. The others followed they had a plan. They ran out of cover, bullet hitting all around, and Joshua (who saw one of them, since the NVG ECLIPSE had was better quality than the Alpha) aimed the G36K to the enemy's face.
An NVG works by amplification of the light it catches by a 100%. If a large source of light is pointed at it, the light is magnified, creating an immense flashing light, burning the user's retinas.
One of them blinded, Machuttes took the chance and fired a three-round- burst, hitting the tango in the head and killing him. Just then, Slonoskvo did the same with the other and Rodriguez shoot directly. Three seconds later, the bodies of all four Alpha Commandos lay on the floor, among empty shell casings and debris.
"We did it . . . " Rodriguez was breathing heavily. Combat was tiring. However, this time Machuttes took the initiative.
"C'mon. Elijah is still in the heliport. We need to rescue him."
Suddenly, thunder rang, making the ECLIPSE members shudder.
"It's raining" Rodriguez said, stating the obvious.
"Better for us," Nadia said, "The enemy won't hear us with the rain." The billions of droplets were letting themselves hear. It was a spring storm, not so uncommon. What a dramatic ending for her first CT mission.
-- -- --
Elijah walked down the stairs, his Beretta M9 resting in his sweating hands. The gun didn't slip; he was wearing those Nomex gloves. They were augmenting the heat, but he didn't mind. He hid behind one of the wooden grates of warehouse, hearing footsteps and voices.
"So, Vassov is dead?"
"Yes, I tried to call his radio, but some American answered. They got him all right." Ocelot explained. They were walking peacefully, as if they didn't know there was someone spying on them.
"What a disgrace. I assume Steyanovich's other team won't arrive?" Vereyanka asked, cautiously. "Anyways, where is he?"
"I left him and two of his men in the first floor, in case we are followed by Snake's men."
"Who is this Snake anyway, Tovarish?"
"An old enemy. He thinks he is in control of his own destiny. Poor idiot." Ocelot seemed to have fun describing Snake. Elijah could now see Ocelot and Vereyanka's shadow. He could guess he was followed by two tangos . . . That were walking Sobrietsky at gunpoint.
The Kurd could see Ocelot stopping for a second. "Listen, Comrade Colonel, when this helicopter arrives, I want you to kill Sobrietsky, understood?" He could also hear Sobrietsky losing his composure. It wasn't nice to have someone saying you were going to die.
He called Snake on the CODEC.
"Hey! Someone! Answer me!" Even though the CODEC can pick up sounds as minute as a rat's heartbeat, he was still unwilling to let Ocelot's crew to hear him.
"Snake here. What's wrong?"
"Snake . . . They are going to kill Sobrietsky."
"Damn . . . Can you do anything to save him?"
"Doubt it." He said, beaten.
"Listen, I just got a phone call form the NSA director. They have decided to screw Ocelot. You can use any force you see fit to finish him off."
"All right . . ."
He cut off, and sneaked through the boxes, keeping his head low, his mind focused. He reached until the door that leads to the stairs, and to Steyanovich's team. It was made of metal; it would stop the sound any gunfight might cause. He shut it carefully, without making any noise, and then quickly hid and took a sneak peek of the scene. Both guards were checking the door that lead to the Heliport, and Ocelot was checking the corpse Yuri, the latter that did nothing but lay there, stabbed and its neck broken. Vereyanka was distracted, and Sobrietsky was in the corner, without laying attention, just focusing in staying alive.
He sneaked up to Vereyanka and with a quick move, grabbed his throat and put his Beretta up his temple. He let off a scream, and Ocelot and his men turned to see the ECLIPSE sniper, holding Vereyanka hostage. Ocelot himself grabbed Sobrietsky and did the same thing. Both parties stared at each other, as the couple of Alpha team members kept their sights on Slervansk.
"Let go of him!" Ocelot shouted, angrily.
"Let Sobrietsky go!" Slervansk shouted back, he was far more focused.
"You must be one of Snake's men, right?" Ocelot said, smirking, pressing the Colt up to Sobrietsky's temple.
"Right . . ."
"So, ECLIPSE, huh?"
"What the . . ."
"Yes, the word does spread. An antiterrorism unit formed by members of FOX- HOUND. Sweet irony." Ocelot's eyes were focused on Elijah. He was still hidden behind Vereyanka, who was trying to resist the urge to scream. "You must be Wolf's relative. Your eyes are permanently focused. Your hands don't tremble while holding a gun."
"Is that the reason you discovered me? Thought my appearance was rather distinctive." Elijah side-stepped to the left, in order to face Ocelot directly.
"On another topic, may I give you one small suggestion for the next time you take a man as a human shield?" Ocelot was confident, as usual.
"What?"
"Grab someone I give a shit about." In that split second, Ocelot steered his Single Action Army in Elijah and Vereyanka's direction, the bullet lodging into Vereyanka's brain, pushing him and Elijah to the floor. Elijah got up, from below the corpse and fired a few shots at Ocelot, (the Beretta's sound was less surprising than the G3 strapped to his back), yet the bullets seemed to steer out of the way, while Elijah dived behind cover, dodging an improvised burst from Steyanovich's men.
He hid behind the crate. He could feel the bursts of blood going through his neck, and he tightened his grip on his Beretta as he jumped out of cover, firing, feeling the time slowed down, and landing behind cover; a group of metal shelves, filled with cans, boxes, bottles . . . Falling, pushed by the terrorists' furious gunfire. Elijah grabbed the gun on Steyanovich's hand (a CZ Skorpion sub machinegun) and started firing back. Blowing some elements on the shelves himself. Bullets flying everywhere, it was incredibly stressing. He leaned out of cover and fired a seven-round- burst to Ocelot's head.
To his amazement, the bullets seemed to steer out of the way, one of them amazingly curving and hitting the back of one of the former Spetz Naz soldier's head. The other one kept firing, until his magazine gave up. He started reloading, ready to kill Elijah.
All the gunfire had drowned another sound; helicopter blades, the chopper was landing. Ocelot reloaded his SAA, and turned to the remaining Alpha trooper. "Well, you have proved useful," he commented, as he put the gun next to the last soldier and pressed the trigger, blowing his brains to the next dimension.
Elijah was on the floor, doubting if it was safe to go out. He stood up, to see Ocelot grabbing Sobrietsky by the neck. Elijah fired the little left in Vereyanka's Skorpion's ammo capacity. The bullets seemed to get out of the way. No, it wasn't bad aim; there was something odd about him. Ocelot returned fire with his SAA, the sniper jumped for cover. Ocelot used Sobrietsky as a human shield again until he reached the door.
-- -- --
"Damn! The chopper is there already!" Joshua shouted in frustration, watching the building though the greenish aura the expensive NVG caused, as he and his team ran, under the furious rain, the mud below the grass in the Embassy's grounds made bothersome sounds.
They reached the Warehouse's door, and kicked it open.
-- -- --
Colonel Vereyanka and his men turned around, confident. They hadn't heard the gunfire or the shouting. When he turned to see the open door, allowing a cold breeze and some droplets in. It was dark to see what was behind, but something called his attention; three couples of green dots in the dark. Maybe it was an effect of the rain, but the manual said . . . Night Vision Goggles.
Eclipse busted in, firing wildly at Steyanovich and his crew, while running forward. Object flew spectacularly at the terrorists, pushed by the bullets, like if ECLIPSE was followed by the wind.
The bullets impacted all over Steyanovich and his last men, killing them with style. The Bravo team didn't stop to check if they were dead; they had to follow, and save, Elijah.
-- -- --
Ocelot was angry. He was the only terrorist alive, yet somehow he felt safe, in the rain, with a hostage, walking towards the black chopper. It was a Blackhawk and the pilot inside only stared at him, as he violently threw Sobrietsky inside.
The scene inside was blue-toned. Typical Spec Ops chopper. Ocelot started to motion to get himself in, but . . .
"Freeze!" Elijah shouted, from the rain. His blond hair had lost its shape, now being wet. Elijah held his Beretta with both hands at Ocelot's head, his G3/SG-1 resting behind him. "This is Special Operations ECLIPSE, you cocksucker!"
"Your sister was far more limited in terms of insults." It was a distraction; while he said it, he pulled out his SAA and fired at Slervansk, who in a reflex action jumped leftwards, effectively dodging the bullet. Indeed, the rain fouled Ocelot's aim.
"I have a tank full of napalm ready to blow the Embassy and this block to hell, and it will kill you as soon as I press this button!" Ocelot held up a device, a bomb detonator.
Elijah froze; He was serious. Ocelot would blow that joint if he wanted to, but he knew he had to stop it.
The Kurd returned fire with his M9, the bullets going astray and drawing lines in the water falling from the sky. However, a lucky bullet hit the detonator, breaking it and pushing it below the helicopter, finishing Ocelot's threat. Ocelot well could have threatened to kill Sobrietsky, but Ocelot felt this kid was worth of a gunfight with him, right?
He started firing back with his SAA, feeling the bullets get out of their trajectory right before hitting him in the eyes. Elijah wasn't taking cover. He was dodging Ocelot's bullets as he want along.
Finally, Ocelot fired a bullet, hitting in the floor before Slervansk's feet, raising the water there. Ocelot was now standing on the very edge of the Heliport, a slight push might send him to oblivion. The rain was furious, and Elijah stopped to reconsider. Ocelot aimed to the Sniper's head, trying to blow his brain. However, a bullet came from the night, blowing Ocelot's gun out of his hand.
A woman was holding the sniper rifle. Effectively, she was followed by two other men, with ECLIPSE uniforms. Nadia had picked up Elijah's rifle. At used it well. Ocelot was unarmed, fighting four ECLIPSE shooters. He smiled at the ECLIPSE shooters.
"Congratulations, you have proved yourselves" Ocelot's smile disappeared, as he jumped –rather, back flipped, and fell out of the heliport. Charlie was astonished; He had never seen something like that.
The ECLIPSE members walked to the heliport's ledge; Ocelot wasn't in the street, nowhere to be seen. The team seemed to congregate, as Elijah and Sean shook their hands. Nadia hugged him, too. In Joshua's opinion, the Russian assault shooter and Iraqi sniper were more than friends.
"Great job, team."
-- -- --
The final sweat drop fell off Bogart's forehead as he cut the last cable on the bomb. It was a true mess; cables of several colors were above the SEMXTEX. He let out a breath, as he finished defusing.
"Done."
"Done!?" Dolph's patience had crushed into its limits and gone though.
-- -- --
"They did it!" Snake said, while still holding the radio. "They mother fucking did it! Damn!" He was so proud. The mission was over; all enemies eliminated, but Ocelot had escaped, as usual. The doors trapping Bogart and his crew were blown by Machuttes team. They were now on their way back on Charlie's chopper, but first, they left the hostages at the local FBI office, as usual.
"So, were you expecting them to make it?" Raiden asked, confident.
"Not really, at some points. But shit, they blew my expectations."
"You realize Ocelot was plotting something, right?"
"I did. But right now, I have to make some changes."
"Yeah, I made some calls. Most of the new personnel are on their way, but one is already here, she's really here to assist our wounded boys. Dolph took a bullet in the torso, and Slervansk has his leg stabbed. Not bad, but they wanted FOX-HOUND medic to maintain ECLIPSE's identity as secret as it could be."
"FOX-HOUND medics? You don't mean . . ."
"Missed me, Snake?" The woman's voice was truthful; she had a dark tone, as if she felt guilty.
"Naomi?"
-- -- --
-- -- --
Author's note; Here goes another. I didn't require much help this time, except from my dad, a Chemist, who explained to me how Napalm worked. Hope you enjoyed, and expect some of the first chapters re-vamped. And as always, the good old Simon Wolf-Gough, for his always helpful suggestions and corrections.
