Chp. 9 – Kuroi Tori "A Kunoichi's Last Dance
***
David looked back from the 2nd pilot's seat to the two Kunoichi's applying the chaff grenades to their uniforms. Imported knives, hand grenades, assault rifles, and handguns were carefully placed in their appropriate places.
"You two are going first. We'll be landing in a few." He yelled, trying to overpower the sound of the chopper blades. He tossed them their communication devices. Kaplan applied the Konami associated codec system to her ear. Cora glanced down on the microchip in her hand.
"What's this for?"
"Communication. You'll need it to keep in touch."
She let her eyes drift from David's to her hand. Then shoved the device into her pocket. "I'll contact you if I need to."
Kaplan slid a needle-like kit within the sash along her waist. "Frequency?"
"141.80."
"Got it." Kaplan took her place beside Cora at the chopper's hatch. She noticed the undisclosed compound beyond the forest terrain. Cora scanned the grounds, mentally noting the disposition of the large structure. Where sentries were expected to patrol, there were none. She concluded her thoughts with assuming an ambush. It was clear as day that Liquid was expecting them. She lifted her head in David's direction and spoke loudly over the noise of the rotating blades.
"Set her down here! I'm going in to clear a path."
"This is not the extraction point, I can't land here!" The pilot replied in the same tone.
"Then this is where I get off." She answered back, seemingly to herself. She placed a good grip along the hatch-handle and threw it back, unlocking the sliding door. David stumbled from his seat and advanced toward them.
"Hey! Wait! What are you doing!"
Jerking her arm to the side, the hatch flew aside letting in a large gust of air that rocked the carrier. Kaplan placed a hand to her temple, shielding her eyes from stray hair that flapped around with the engrossing winds.
"Want me to follow?"
"Yes."
Cora pushed herself forward and flew into the air. Kaplan followed just missing the hand that reached to grasp her shoulder. Suspended into the air, they fell swiftly into a swan dive. Cora glanced in Kaplan's direction and exchanged a nod. Like two dots, they disappeared amongst the cloudy air and plummeted into leafy trees.
"Damn it!" David peered out into the forest. Where the two disappeared, birds took flight from the treetops. He turned back to Otacon in one of the passenger seats, collecting data via laptop. "Otacon, I need heat censored surveillance of this place. I want full detail of Kaplan and Cora's whereabouts. Try to get that set up before we land."
"I'll try."
* * *
"Liquid, two have entered into our perimeter." Distortedly speaking, an unmarked uniform stood before a wide surveillance screen with a hand to its ear. The metallic structure paced back and forth, its head turned in the direction of the advancing women on screen. A large 49" katana rested sheathed behind its spine. "No. Solid Snake has not been identified leaving the aircraft. It veered out of our territory."
"Perhaps, they are working this one alone?" A hand braced against the side of the key panel. Static engulfed the transmission as Liquid gave reply. "I see… I'd be more than happy to greet them accordingly."
Static filled empty space as a voice requested full strategic cooperation.
"Understood."
A hand moved across the large key panel that sat before the wide screen. A few keystrokes followed by the Esc key sent the large screen to go blank. With a hand propped against its chin, the Cyborg-figure paced the room. Back and forth, contemplation played on whether or not Liquid and the Cyborg would prevail in their efforts of forming the ultimate Metal Gear X.
Together they'd worked out the details, planning endlessly the design and mechanical operation of the new Metal Gears until it was finally built. The sub-prototype of MGX, Gava, lay dormant at the ground level below the vicinity. Fully operational, continuous experiments are implemented. Standing in over 48 ft. with stealth-camouflage and flight capabilities, it is capable of breath-taking combat on air, land, and sea. It can ensure traceless counts of a bloodshed massacre within an 800-mile radius.
"Ah. This… will be an easy task." The Cyborg commented upon leaving—stepping past the sliding double doors.
* * *
Agility enveloped by speed, swerved around each corner. A thin mahogany tassel billowed behind tresses of burnt umber and deep wines. Kaplan scathed around her section of the compound, halfway empty and halfway full of breath. Strange, she thought. She wondered how she moved undetected before the camera's eyes and yet, no sentries were guarding this area. Not even the sentry that was to guard the elevator's hall was on duty. This was strange indeed. B-24 was boldly imprinted on the concrete wall ahead of her. She took her steps along the wall, gliding almost across the snow-painted concrete. Her eyes shot open as she hit the next corridor. Sliding down from the wall, her feet tapped listlessly against the tiled floor. She made an abrupt turn in an effort to halt and her eyes widened as she did so. Shit! Thirty sentries blocked the route and all had a trained eye on the Kunoichi. Rifles went up to aim while one guard signaled with one hand in the air, a three-count to open fire. Just a few more feet! She told herself as she ran, trying to muster up all the speed she could, to retreat. Three fingers were apparent in seconds, and triggers simultaneously pulled back.
Bullets ripped through the corridor like a race of speeding horses. Some skimmed past her head, along the walls, and bounced against the concrete in sparks. She couldn't outrun them and she knew this. Removing a shuriken she hurled it toward the elevator's panel. The security panel fizzled out and the elevator's doors swung open. She twisted backwards into an on-going slide. Rolling onto her stomach as she slid along the corridor with bullets endlessly trailing behind her, she unholstered the semi-automatic magnum and aimed for the sentries. She fired back, shell after shell spilling from the chamber, bullet after bullet connecting with a few and missing others. She slid into the elevator, firing as she went, and continued to fire until the doors closed in front of her. The elevator gave a light bell sound as it moved to ascend floors. She braced herself against the west wall of the elevator and sighed. The elevator car began to move.
"Tch. …I could use a nice frappuccino right now." She grunted, holding her side. She looked down at the pool of blood forming in her right palm from her abdomen. She winced and leaned her head back against the west wall of the elevator. She patted her hand against the panel of floor buttons and pressed on the "emergency stop". The car pulled to a stop between floors, rocked a bit, then remained perfectly still. She sighed, and leaned her head back.
She let a gloved hand move to touch her ear, tapped in a frequency and waited as codec began to ring.
* * *
"Snake here." He pressed his back against the base of a tree, with one hand to his ear. Two sentries walked the area, wearing jungle-print camouflage attire. He peered from behind the tree, careful as to not expose himself. He noticed the sentries holding Russian AK-105s and wearing Kevlar vests. This must be the higher security levels, he noted mentally.
"Snake, I've set up the surveillance you asked for. I had to use the satellite's digital imaging to get a visual of the compound structure." Otacon paused, pushing his glasses further up on his nose. "Not exactly sure why you'd want a heat sensor, but it's up."
"…It could come in handy. The chopper?"
"Hidden."
"Good. I'm clearing out the enemies as I go. Once I find the Main terminal, I'll double back for you."
" Okay. Stay low, Snake."
"Got'cha."
"Hey! What was that?" The Russian guard questioned, as he walked near the shifting tree. Snake remained still, his hands motionless as an index moved toward the trigger of his USP. The guard stopped short of the tree, examining the little movement from the branches. Then he saw something red, beam-like, staring down at the dampened ground of dirt and grass. " eh? What is that light?"
He moved forward a bit more to investigate. Each step was cautious and slow. He'd stop with his eyes fixed on the light. Snake darted out, painting the red dot against the Russian's forehead. Almost instinctively, Snake smirked to the sentry's gasp of terror, and pulled the trigger. The patrolling sentry a bit away whirled around at the loud gunshot. His eyes widened upon his comrade who staggered back with blood spewing from his temple as he reached out then collapsed. His eyes adverted to something rattling within the bushes. He brought his AK to his chest and followed the sound. Tap tap tap! He whirled around, the sound emerging now from his left.
"Ach. Who's out there?" The sentry yelled. He stood perfectly still- his hands, shaking with sweat, his eyes- intently searching the trees and tall grass. He turned, finding a shadow sweeping between the trees. His eyes narrowed and his gun rose in an assault of flying slugs. Shell cases created shingles around him as they flew into the air, then dropped like flies.
Snake fell into a roll with bullets trailing closely behind him. One zipped past his cheek, another, his shoulder. He fell back against the tree, waiting. The tree became his shield, deteriorating with shards of wood, grass, and leaves, flying past his head with each bullet that came his way. He scowled, squinting past the up-risen dirt and grime to get a good look at the other. Audible clicks emerged beneath the smoke screen. This was Snake's chance. He slowly stood up, holstering the USP and reached down to claim the combat knife from the sheath on his ankle. He listened in on the string of curses from the sentry's mouth and quietly stalked his way behind him. Alarmed, the sentry struggled, choking as Snake wrapped his arms tighter around his neck. He began yelling, but became smothered by gloved fingertips then silenced by the stainless-steel scalpel. Snake pulled the jagged knife from his neck and released the lifeless form to topple onto the ground. He cleaned the utensil and re-sheathed it to his ankle as he bent down to search the body. He snatched up the dog tags reading "Richard Vlad" and pocketed it just as a siren of multiple guns were cocked around him. His eyes shot up and his lips fell into a frown. Twenty-three sentries surrounded him, all staring with intensity within their eyes. He shut his eyes, raised his hands, and cursed into a misty grumble.
[Go to Chp. 10]