Chapter 3- The First Encounter
The Philanthropy soldier stared intently at the elevator's double doors; anything could have been on the other side. His gloved finger then reached for the "Open Door" button, pressing it in slightly. With a 'ding!', the doors opened, sliding away from each other, separating to allow Snake entrance to the first floor. His gun was the first thing to come out of the elevator; Snake's quick hand snatched his sidearm into the air with haste. The barrel came up to bear too quickly for anything, human or not, on the other side to even hope of reacting to before being shot down.
Seeing nothing that could pose much of a threat, he relaxed, but still kept his pistol in the air. His eyes wandered around the room, looking for anything that needed neutralization. Snake was a man unafraid of a fight; he was actually one who enjoyed the thrill of a good firefight. The adrenaline pumping, the feel of staring death in the eye, the adventure; Snake got a kick out of it. It could be considered an ecstasy for him.
The warrior was now sure of nothing hostile being present in the room, with the exception of something that had adequate enough cleverness to evade Snake's watchful eyes. Doing so was harder than it may have seemed... Snake was good at hiding, but even better at finding others who were sneaking about.
A blaring ring then vibrated Snake's eardrum. It was the all-too-familiar codec. He was tired of hearing that goddamned ring, but answered the call anyway, after finding a quick hiding spot behind a large generator. He could feel its heat when he pressed his back up against the metal exterior.
"Snake, do you read?" asked Otacon on the other end.
"Right here, Otacon." Otacon could tell that Snake was rather annoyed. He was actually rather easily pissed off... Otacon learned that at Shadow Moses.
"What's the situation look like over there?"
"I got in alright... right now I'm on the first floor... the generator room."
"Have you spotted any sentries?"
"None yet... things keep getting stranger around here."
"They sure do," Otacon told Snake.
"Otacon, can you give me a rundown on this place?"
"Yeah, hold on, Snake."
Snake heard the faint sounds of Otacon's hands moving quickly across his keyboard.
"Alright, Snake. There are five floors, the other four are all above you, as you probably already know. There are also several smaller facilities outside of the one you're in. Strange. I can't find any place that could house as big a weapon as Metal Gear."
"Any chance that your sources are wrong?" Snake knew what answer to expect, yet asked anyway.
"Hardly," Otacon replied. His voice had a certain tone in it, not one of arrogance, but one of confidence, perhaps over-confidence.
"Sure about that?" said Snake, dryly.
"Am I ever unsure of anything?" Otacon queried.
Snake said nothing and gave off a low grunt... he didn't need to speak to let Otacon know what his answer to that question was.
Otacon ignored Snake's "comment" and moved on.
"Anyway, I know what you're thinking and I highly doubt it, Snake. My sources are top-notch, as always. Snake, please, find out what they're plan is for RAY, and stop it ASAP."
"Will do." The connection was cut after those last words.
He rose up from his hiding place, behind the generator, and continued down the dark corridor of the room. Large generators and other various machines filled the room; hiding would definitely not serve as a problem in this particular part of the base.
Quietly walking down the metal-grated floor was quite a difficult task, but Snake made the uneasy easy. Snake's ears then rang... not with the maddening tone of the codec's ring, but a round of bullets being fired from an automatic machine gun.
The hum of the rounds being fired was low at first... its volume gradually rose as Snake approached a section of the room that was vastly different from the others. There were no generators occupying this section of the room. Instead, large scorch marks surrounded by dead soldiers took their place. Apparently, someone has used them to their advantage to off quite a few commandos.
Snake then saw the entity that may have wiped them out.
Not wanting to be a part of this firefight, no matter how much he enjoyed them, Snake backtracked and hid behind the nearest generator. His gun was jammed into its holster and, in that same second, Snake grasped his binoculars, strung around his neck, and brought them in front of his eyes.
The commando zoomed in on the combat taking place on the opposite end of the room and took in quite a sight.
Through the scope, Snake's eyes viewed a battalion of soldiers in a firefight with a... cyborg ninja, of all things. The ninja was clad in red and silver "armor," which was really a cybernetic exoskeleton, similar to that of which Gray Fox was known. The man (or woman) was weaponless, his only visible means of attack being his hands and feet. These "weapons" were, in reality, quite effective if one knew how to rightly use them.
Snake then changed the focus from the soldiers fighting him or her. He zoomed in on one soldier, viciously letting loose a round of hot lead from his M4 at the ninja. The Philanthropy commando immediately recognized the attire of these soldiers at that point, being the military connoisseur that he was.
"Marines?" Snake asked no one in particular.
These fighting men were indeed members of the US Marines. Snake could easily tell so from their gear; they were all clad in "Marine Green," along with a helmet on the top of their heads.
The soldier easily noticed who was winning the fight, and it wasn't the Marines. The weaponless mystery ninja had an obvious edge in this battle, showing that traditional weapons are not necessary to be successful in war.
The ninja had no guns, no swords, just his bare hands and feet; lethal weapons for some.
The soldier closest to the ninja fired his gun, and the ninja instantly reacted. He jumped sideways into the air in order to avoid the bullets, and at the top of his flight fired three throwing stars, each hitting a different soldier. They dropped like rocks, not even able to let out their screams of pain before death took over. Blood flowed from the wounds where the throwing stars connected; one hit a Marine in the throat, and the others connected to the Marines' chest. Two Marines were left, one on each side of the ninja. They both rushed at him, and the ninja took action. He did a standing roundhouse kick, connecting with one of the Marines' jaws, knocking him on the ground instantly. He immediately turned toward the other guard, who swung at him with his gun. The ninja ducked and grabbed the Marine by the neck. He put his right foot on his chest, rolled backwards and launched the Marine in the air, at least five feet. As the Marine went up, his gun was taken by the ninja, who, after rolling backwards, got on one knee and pointed the gun up at the Marine and fired. The spray of fire kept the Marine up in the air for as long as the ninja held the trigger, blood dripping to the floor. The ninja let go of the trigger, and stood up, walking away, not looking back. Behind him, the Marine fell to the ground with a splash, caused by the huge pool of blood underneath him.
Snake suddenly jumped out of his hiding place, when he thought the ninja would be least expecting.
"FREEZE!" Snake yelled.
The ninja did not move. Instead, he just stared at his foe. The ninja's suit was silver and orange with a silver helmet.
"Hmm, a new opponent. This could be... interesting," commented the ninja.
"This'll be a lot more than 'interesting' if things go my way," said Snake.
"Perhaps another time, Snake." With that, he jumped in the air with blinding speed, disappearing from Snake's sight.
Snake then heard footsteps and pointed his handgun in the direction of the sound. He saw a group of the Russian soldiers coming toward him, the same ones that he had encountered outside. Their AKs-74us were ready, aimed in Snake's direction.
"Guess I got some company," said Snake. As the guards drew closer, he decided to take cover behind a nearby generator. There he spotted a silver- bluish light machine gun, perhaps dropped by a careless Marine. Or a dead one. Snake picked it up, examining it. It was covered in blood, dark crimson blotches staining the steel. Snake seemed not to notice, or care about the blood being there.
"Colt 633," commented Snake. He knew about these guns. They were light machine guns mostly used by Marines, the US DEA (United States Drug Enforcement Agency) and several US police agencies. It had a fair range of about two hundred meters, and its rate of fire was superb at nine hundred rounds per minute. He found ammo next to where the gun was lying, and loaded up the gun. He then cocked and readied his newfound weapon.
"Let's see what she can do," said Snake in a low voice, to himself. He then jumped out and greeted the oncoming soldiers with a volley of bullets from his 633, several of whom fell dead in pools of their own blood. A grenade then came his way. He rolled to the side as the grenade exploded where he was just seconds ago. He jumped out on the opposite side that he had previously, and dropped several more guards. Snake then threw a grenade, which was kicked back by a guard. Snake had no time to react, and the grenade exploded right in front of him, knocking him off his feet. Snake was hurt, but he managed to get up, his adrenaline pumping at the max. He stood, bloody and bruised, and aimed his gun through the spaces between the shelves on the weapons racks and fired off small bursts of gunfire, ducking back to catch his breath after every volley. The sentries occasionally hit Snake with their own gunfire, but every time Snake was hit, it just drove him even more. Snake, with hatred in his eyes, aimed the gun at the last remaining enemies and pulled the trigger until it made a clicking sound, indicating it was out of ammo.
When the smoke cleared, Snake stood, battered and wounded, over the bodies of the Russian guards and the Marines, blood splattered on the soldiers, their guns, the walls, the floor and Snake. He was a wounded animal, and nothing is more dangerous than a wounded animal. These guards had just learned that the hard way. This reminded Snake of a Chinese proverb he knew. He recited it in his head as best as he could remember as he walked toward the end of the room.
If you hit a Snake and don't kill it, you'll be sorry later on. Snake took another look at the guards that he had killed. Hmm. I think they're more than sorry. Snake searched all of the bodies for anything useful, finding mostly ammo and a couple grenades. He then heard a loud noise that slightly startled him. Snake turned toward the noise, and saw a desk with a computer and an overturned glass with a clear liquid spilling out of it. Underneath the desk was a frightened civilian. Snake showed no sympathy, and pointed his Beretta at his head.
"You! On your feet! Now!" yelled Snake. Snake was a man never afraid to use force to complete a mission.
"D-don't shoot! " he yelled as he stood and put his hands above his head.
"I need information. If you're smart, you'll tell me what I need to know. Who do you work for?"
"The... the La-li-lu-le-lo."
At the sound of the Patriot's name, Snake brought the gun's barrel closer to the civilian, his finger closer to the trigger.
"Ahhh!" The civilian screamed and fell back against the desk.
Snake then relaxed, backing away from his victim, but keeping his pistol trained on him.
"What are they planning here?" Snake asked in a not so harsh but still forceful voice.
"They're planning something big, and-"
"What are they planning?!"
"They're using-" His voice was suddenly cut off by a loud gunshot, echoing across the room. The civilian let out a deafening scream as blood spurted from his head. Snake immediately turned to where the gunshot came from. He observed a man with long, white hair, cowboy boots, and an old fashioned Colt Model Revolver, smoke coming from the barrel. Snake stared at him with cold hatred and animosity.
"Ocelot," said Snake in a low voice.
"Now, now Snake. The Patriots wouldn't want classified information falling into the wrong hands, would they?" asked Ocelot as he spun his Revolver around his finger and holstered it. He walked toward Snake, his spurs clanking against the floor every time he took a step.
"Solid Snake. This reminds me of Shadow Moses so. Are you felling that... nostalgia, Snake? Déjà vu, Snake. Except that this time, you won't be walking out alive.
"No, I shouldn't say that. You do have another alternative. Snake, join us, join the La-Li-Lu-Le-Lo, and we, as one, will be an unstoppable force. Who knows what we'll be able to accomplish?"
This triggered a flashback into Snake's head.
The Tanker. Ocelot turning on his allies, the Gurlukovich soldiers and their leader, Sergei Gurlukovich. Shooting them all, one by one. Each bullet had a message on it: a message of mistrust.
"Forget about it. You may make on hell of a bad enemy Ocelot, but you're an even worse ally. I've seen what you do to your 'partners'."
"Snake... I pity you. For the only way you will leave this place alive is if you join us. But you choose not to. I wish you luck in living through this battle... for you will need it."
However, before the battle started, Ocelot did something that surprised Snake. He took of the pack that disallowed him to be hit by gunfire or grenades and tossed it in the air between the two combatants. Keeping his eyes on Snake, he took out his revolver with his right hand, spun it on his finger twice and fired three rounds into the device, his focus still on Snake. All three bullets went through the pack and came out on the other side. It landed between Ocelot and Snake, a smoking heap of twisted metal, completely disfigured and dented in.
"Last chance, Snake. Make a decision," Ocelot told Snake.
"Here's your final answer," said Snake as he fired a warning shot at Ocelot, missing on purpose. The bullet had a message, a clear and simple one: No.
"Do as you will, Snake. For now, you have no purpose now but to die here."
"I'll die after I kill you!" screamed Snake.
Ocelot pulled the trigger of his revolver seven times, and they all headed in Snake's direction, literally faster than the speed of sound.
The Philanthropy soldier stared intently at the elevator's double doors; anything could have been on the other side. His gloved finger then reached for the "Open Door" button, pressing it in slightly. With a 'ding!', the doors opened, sliding away from each other, separating to allow Snake entrance to the first floor. His gun was the first thing to come out of the elevator; Snake's quick hand snatched his sidearm into the air with haste. The barrel came up to bear too quickly for anything, human or not, on the other side to even hope of reacting to before being shot down.
Seeing nothing that could pose much of a threat, he relaxed, but still kept his pistol in the air. His eyes wandered around the room, looking for anything that needed neutralization. Snake was a man unafraid of a fight; he was actually one who enjoyed the thrill of a good firefight. The adrenaline pumping, the feel of staring death in the eye, the adventure; Snake got a kick out of it. It could be considered an ecstasy for him.
The warrior was now sure of nothing hostile being present in the room, with the exception of something that had adequate enough cleverness to evade Snake's watchful eyes. Doing so was harder than it may have seemed... Snake was good at hiding, but even better at finding others who were sneaking about.
A blaring ring then vibrated Snake's eardrum. It was the all-too-familiar codec. He was tired of hearing that goddamned ring, but answered the call anyway, after finding a quick hiding spot behind a large generator. He could feel its heat when he pressed his back up against the metal exterior.
"Snake, do you read?" asked Otacon on the other end.
"Right here, Otacon." Otacon could tell that Snake was rather annoyed. He was actually rather easily pissed off... Otacon learned that at Shadow Moses.
"What's the situation look like over there?"
"I got in alright... right now I'm on the first floor... the generator room."
"Have you spotted any sentries?"
"None yet... things keep getting stranger around here."
"They sure do," Otacon told Snake.
"Otacon, can you give me a rundown on this place?"
"Yeah, hold on, Snake."
Snake heard the faint sounds of Otacon's hands moving quickly across his keyboard.
"Alright, Snake. There are five floors, the other four are all above you, as you probably already know. There are also several smaller facilities outside of the one you're in. Strange. I can't find any place that could house as big a weapon as Metal Gear."
"Any chance that your sources are wrong?" Snake knew what answer to expect, yet asked anyway.
"Hardly," Otacon replied. His voice had a certain tone in it, not one of arrogance, but one of confidence, perhaps over-confidence.
"Sure about that?" said Snake, dryly.
"Am I ever unsure of anything?" Otacon queried.
Snake said nothing and gave off a low grunt... he didn't need to speak to let Otacon know what his answer to that question was.
Otacon ignored Snake's "comment" and moved on.
"Anyway, I know what you're thinking and I highly doubt it, Snake. My sources are top-notch, as always. Snake, please, find out what they're plan is for RAY, and stop it ASAP."
"Will do." The connection was cut after those last words.
He rose up from his hiding place, behind the generator, and continued down the dark corridor of the room. Large generators and other various machines filled the room; hiding would definitely not serve as a problem in this particular part of the base.
Quietly walking down the metal-grated floor was quite a difficult task, but Snake made the uneasy easy. Snake's ears then rang... not with the maddening tone of the codec's ring, but a round of bullets being fired from an automatic machine gun.
The hum of the rounds being fired was low at first... its volume gradually rose as Snake approached a section of the room that was vastly different from the others. There were no generators occupying this section of the room. Instead, large scorch marks surrounded by dead soldiers took their place. Apparently, someone has used them to their advantage to off quite a few commandos.
Snake then saw the entity that may have wiped them out.
Not wanting to be a part of this firefight, no matter how much he enjoyed them, Snake backtracked and hid behind the nearest generator. His gun was jammed into its holster and, in that same second, Snake grasped his binoculars, strung around his neck, and brought them in front of his eyes.
The commando zoomed in on the combat taking place on the opposite end of the room and took in quite a sight.
Through the scope, Snake's eyes viewed a battalion of soldiers in a firefight with a... cyborg ninja, of all things. The ninja was clad in red and silver "armor," which was really a cybernetic exoskeleton, similar to that of which Gray Fox was known. The man (or woman) was weaponless, his only visible means of attack being his hands and feet. These "weapons" were, in reality, quite effective if one knew how to rightly use them.
Snake then changed the focus from the soldiers fighting him or her. He zoomed in on one soldier, viciously letting loose a round of hot lead from his M4 at the ninja. The Philanthropy commando immediately recognized the attire of these soldiers at that point, being the military connoisseur that he was.
"Marines?" Snake asked no one in particular.
These fighting men were indeed members of the US Marines. Snake could easily tell so from their gear; they were all clad in "Marine Green," along with a helmet on the top of their heads.
The soldier easily noticed who was winning the fight, and it wasn't the Marines. The weaponless mystery ninja had an obvious edge in this battle, showing that traditional weapons are not necessary to be successful in war.
The ninja had no guns, no swords, just his bare hands and feet; lethal weapons for some.
The soldier closest to the ninja fired his gun, and the ninja instantly reacted. He jumped sideways into the air in order to avoid the bullets, and at the top of his flight fired three throwing stars, each hitting a different soldier. They dropped like rocks, not even able to let out their screams of pain before death took over. Blood flowed from the wounds where the throwing stars connected; one hit a Marine in the throat, and the others connected to the Marines' chest. Two Marines were left, one on each side of the ninja. They both rushed at him, and the ninja took action. He did a standing roundhouse kick, connecting with one of the Marines' jaws, knocking him on the ground instantly. He immediately turned toward the other guard, who swung at him with his gun. The ninja ducked and grabbed the Marine by the neck. He put his right foot on his chest, rolled backwards and launched the Marine in the air, at least five feet. As the Marine went up, his gun was taken by the ninja, who, after rolling backwards, got on one knee and pointed the gun up at the Marine and fired. The spray of fire kept the Marine up in the air for as long as the ninja held the trigger, blood dripping to the floor. The ninja let go of the trigger, and stood up, walking away, not looking back. Behind him, the Marine fell to the ground with a splash, caused by the huge pool of blood underneath him.
Snake suddenly jumped out of his hiding place, when he thought the ninja would be least expecting.
"FREEZE!" Snake yelled.
The ninja did not move. Instead, he just stared at his foe. The ninja's suit was silver and orange with a silver helmet.
"Hmm, a new opponent. This could be... interesting," commented the ninja.
"This'll be a lot more than 'interesting' if things go my way," said Snake.
"Perhaps another time, Snake." With that, he jumped in the air with blinding speed, disappearing from Snake's sight.
Snake then heard footsteps and pointed his handgun in the direction of the sound. He saw a group of the Russian soldiers coming toward him, the same ones that he had encountered outside. Their AKs-74us were ready, aimed in Snake's direction.
"Guess I got some company," said Snake. As the guards drew closer, he decided to take cover behind a nearby generator. There he spotted a silver- bluish light machine gun, perhaps dropped by a careless Marine. Or a dead one. Snake picked it up, examining it. It was covered in blood, dark crimson blotches staining the steel. Snake seemed not to notice, or care about the blood being there.
"Colt 633," commented Snake. He knew about these guns. They were light machine guns mostly used by Marines, the US DEA (United States Drug Enforcement Agency) and several US police agencies. It had a fair range of about two hundred meters, and its rate of fire was superb at nine hundred rounds per minute. He found ammo next to where the gun was lying, and loaded up the gun. He then cocked and readied his newfound weapon.
"Let's see what she can do," said Snake in a low voice, to himself. He then jumped out and greeted the oncoming soldiers with a volley of bullets from his 633, several of whom fell dead in pools of their own blood. A grenade then came his way. He rolled to the side as the grenade exploded where he was just seconds ago. He jumped out on the opposite side that he had previously, and dropped several more guards. Snake then threw a grenade, which was kicked back by a guard. Snake had no time to react, and the grenade exploded right in front of him, knocking him off his feet. Snake was hurt, but he managed to get up, his adrenaline pumping at the max. He stood, bloody and bruised, and aimed his gun through the spaces between the shelves on the weapons racks and fired off small bursts of gunfire, ducking back to catch his breath after every volley. The sentries occasionally hit Snake with their own gunfire, but every time Snake was hit, it just drove him even more. Snake, with hatred in his eyes, aimed the gun at the last remaining enemies and pulled the trigger until it made a clicking sound, indicating it was out of ammo.
When the smoke cleared, Snake stood, battered and wounded, over the bodies of the Russian guards and the Marines, blood splattered on the soldiers, their guns, the walls, the floor and Snake. He was a wounded animal, and nothing is more dangerous than a wounded animal. These guards had just learned that the hard way. This reminded Snake of a Chinese proverb he knew. He recited it in his head as best as he could remember as he walked toward the end of the room.
If you hit a Snake and don't kill it, you'll be sorry later on. Snake took another look at the guards that he had killed. Hmm. I think they're more than sorry. Snake searched all of the bodies for anything useful, finding mostly ammo and a couple grenades. He then heard a loud noise that slightly startled him. Snake turned toward the noise, and saw a desk with a computer and an overturned glass with a clear liquid spilling out of it. Underneath the desk was a frightened civilian. Snake showed no sympathy, and pointed his Beretta at his head.
"You! On your feet! Now!" yelled Snake. Snake was a man never afraid to use force to complete a mission.
"D-don't shoot! " he yelled as he stood and put his hands above his head.
"I need information. If you're smart, you'll tell me what I need to know. Who do you work for?"
"The... the La-li-lu-le-lo."
At the sound of the Patriot's name, Snake brought the gun's barrel closer to the civilian, his finger closer to the trigger.
"Ahhh!" The civilian screamed and fell back against the desk.
Snake then relaxed, backing away from his victim, but keeping his pistol trained on him.
"What are they planning here?" Snake asked in a not so harsh but still forceful voice.
"They're planning something big, and-"
"What are they planning?!"
"They're using-" His voice was suddenly cut off by a loud gunshot, echoing across the room. The civilian let out a deafening scream as blood spurted from his head. Snake immediately turned to where the gunshot came from. He observed a man with long, white hair, cowboy boots, and an old fashioned Colt Model Revolver, smoke coming from the barrel. Snake stared at him with cold hatred and animosity.
"Ocelot," said Snake in a low voice.
"Now, now Snake. The Patriots wouldn't want classified information falling into the wrong hands, would they?" asked Ocelot as he spun his Revolver around his finger and holstered it. He walked toward Snake, his spurs clanking against the floor every time he took a step.
"Solid Snake. This reminds me of Shadow Moses so. Are you felling that... nostalgia, Snake? Déjà vu, Snake. Except that this time, you won't be walking out alive.
"No, I shouldn't say that. You do have another alternative. Snake, join us, join the La-Li-Lu-Le-Lo, and we, as one, will be an unstoppable force. Who knows what we'll be able to accomplish?"
This triggered a flashback into Snake's head.
The Tanker. Ocelot turning on his allies, the Gurlukovich soldiers and their leader, Sergei Gurlukovich. Shooting them all, one by one. Each bullet had a message on it: a message of mistrust.
"Forget about it. You may make on hell of a bad enemy Ocelot, but you're an even worse ally. I've seen what you do to your 'partners'."
"Snake... I pity you. For the only way you will leave this place alive is if you join us. But you choose not to. I wish you luck in living through this battle... for you will need it."
However, before the battle started, Ocelot did something that surprised Snake. He took of the pack that disallowed him to be hit by gunfire or grenades and tossed it in the air between the two combatants. Keeping his eyes on Snake, he took out his revolver with his right hand, spun it on his finger twice and fired three rounds into the device, his focus still on Snake. All three bullets went through the pack and came out on the other side. It landed between Ocelot and Snake, a smoking heap of twisted metal, completely disfigured and dented in.
"Last chance, Snake. Make a decision," Ocelot told Snake.
"Here's your final answer," said Snake as he fired a warning shot at Ocelot, missing on purpose. The bullet had a message, a clear and simple one: No.
"Do as you will, Snake. For now, you have no purpose now but to die here."
"I'll die after I kill you!" screamed Snake.
Ocelot pulled the trigger of his revolver seven times, and they all headed in Snake's direction, literally faster than the speed of sound.