Chapter 14- Reunited at Last
Twelve soldiers had their guns pointed at Raiden and McNeil. They were no regular sentries. These were attack team members. Half of them had glass riot shields, but held handguns instead of assault carbines. One soldier jammed the barrel of his gun into Raiden's back, and another one did the same to McNeil. Neither of them reacted, however, only holstering their guns. Raiden took a glance at McNeil and reached for his gun. The soldier jammed his gun harder into Raiden's back, and McNeil shook his head as if to say," Don't do anything." The soldiers then proceeded to lead them somewhere, and Raiden and McNeil went along with them. McNeil's eyes started to get shifty underneath the mask, looking at the soldiers around him, but he didn't do anything except follow the guards. They were lead down a hall, and the soldiers stopped when they saw a black man of medium height with brown dreadlocks hanging from his head. He had a leather trench coat on, black in color, with a high collar that covered all of his face except for his eyes. But a pair of black sunglasses did that job, covering his eyes. The top of the coat was closed, and the bottom half, below his waist, was open, slit up the middle about halfway to his waist. He approached Raiden. The man was eerily calm, not even appearing to acknowledge the fact that he had two heartless killers standing in front of him.
"Raiden, am I right? Or do you prefer 'White Devil'? What a pleasure to meet you. The Boss told us that you were coming." He then looked right into Raiden's eyes, a cold, concentrated stare. It was as if he was trying to figure out what was on his mind.
"You've been to Hell and back, haven't you? I can see it in your eyes, the look of a soulless murderer. The fires of Hell are inside you, just waiting to come out. But they've changed you, haven't they? You're under their control now; they've completely taken away any free will that you had. A machine, a weapon, a slave controlled by twelve men who don't give a damn about you." He smirked as he said this. He was having fun getting inside Raiden's head. The worst soldier is an unstable one, and he knew that. Raiden was on his way to that instability.
"NO! That's not true! I DO have a will of my own!" Raiden lashed out, obviously insulted.
"Who are you trying to convince, Jack? Me or yourself? Why do you think the Patriots chose you for their little experiment, the S3 project? Because you never have and never will have any kind of free will. Whether it was in Solidus' army of the Devil, your VR training programs, or at the Big Shell, you've always taken orders from others. You were the puppet and the Patriots were pulling the strings. But don't feel bad, Raiden. You're not the only one. They've sent many of your kind, and each one we eliminated, one by one. And you're next, Jack.
"How do you know about me and the Army of the Devil? Who are you?"
Raiden's new foe then removed the sunglasses covering his eyes. That's when Raiden was able to recognize him.
"You--you're... Ryan. Ryan Lambert."
Ryan Lambert was also a soldier in Solidus' Army of the Devil. He was one of Raiden's best friends, not that he had many. After all, war isn't about friends. It's about enemies, and defeating them.
"No. No longer Ryan Lambert. Now, I'm Ghost, humanity's best and last hope of freedom."
"Why have you turned into a... a terrorist?"
"I would hardly call what we're doing terrorism. The Patriots have robbed this nation of the things that made it what it is, or rather, what it once was. Freedom, opportunity, civil rights." He gave a slight chuckle. "'Home of the free'. 'Land of opportunity'. This nation is neither, thanks to the Patriots. Joins us, Jack, and I guarantee that the Patriots will be no more."
Raiden actually thought about the offer. The Patriots had to be stopped. But what could he do? If he resisted the mission or aided the enemy in any way, his wife and child would be killed. Raiden finally gave an answer.
"No! You're nothing but power hungry tyrants! I refuse!" Raiden obviously didn't want him to know about the situation that the Patriots had brought upon him.
"I see, Jack," replied Ghost. "They have changed you. I have no choice."
He placed his sunglasses back over his eyes and turned toward the guards, who were still standing at attention, with their guns jammed into the backs of both Raiden and McNeil.
"Eliminate the masked one," he told them, "but leave the rookie to me." As he said this, he took out the other handgun in his left leg on either side of his waist. He let both sidearms rest at his side as he gave the guards more orders.
Raiden, however, didn't hear whatever he was saying. He was thinking about what he had said. "They've sent many of your kind, each one eliminated one by one". The words echoed in Raiden's head. Had other helpless souls really been condemned to Raiden's fate? Jack suddenly had a strange combination of sympathy and anger; he didn't feel the two emotions separately, but as one feeling, which is why he thought of it as strange.
"This is your last opportunity, Jack. For freedom. Emancipation," Ghost offered.
"No!" Raiden yelled. "I'll die before I join you!"
"Oh, don't worry Jack. You will die."
"Would you really kill an old comrade?" Raiden asked, as if he didn't know the answer. War changes most soldiers. Some for the best. Some for the worst.
"What do you think, Jack? You will die here, Raiden. But not before you're put to good use. After all, no one should die needlessly, right? Especially someone as useful as you." He pointed one handgun at Raiden's head as he said this. "Although I must admit, the urge to kill you is killing me."
Jack had a confused look on his face. He had no clue what this man was talking about. What did they want him for? And who the hell was this "Boss" he kept talking about? Raiden had a lot to find out, and he silently vowed to get the information that he needed.
"I think I'll enjoy this. Let's see what all your training has done for you. Get ready!" He took out both of his PT945s, pointed them at Raiden, and the battle began.
Twelve soldiers had their guns pointed at Raiden and McNeil. They were no regular sentries. These were attack team members. Half of them had glass riot shields, but held handguns instead of assault carbines. One soldier jammed the barrel of his gun into Raiden's back, and another one did the same to McNeil. Neither of them reacted, however, only holstering their guns. Raiden took a glance at McNeil and reached for his gun. The soldier jammed his gun harder into Raiden's back, and McNeil shook his head as if to say," Don't do anything." The soldiers then proceeded to lead them somewhere, and Raiden and McNeil went along with them. McNeil's eyes started to get shifty underneath the mask, looking at the soldiers around him, but he didn't do anything except follow the guards. They were lead down a hall, and the soldiers stopped when they saw a black man of medium height with brown dreadlocks hanging from his head. He had a leather trench coat on, black in color, with a high collar that covered all of his face except for his eyes. But a pair of black sunglasses did that job, covering his eyes. The top of the coat was closed, and the bottom half, below his waist, was open, slit up the middle about halfway to his waist. He approached Raiden. The man was eerily calm, not even appearing to acknowledge the fact that he had two heartless killers standing in front of him.
"Raiden, am I right? Or do you prefer 'White Devil'? What a pleasure to meet you. The Boss told us that you were coming." He then looked right into Raiden's eyes, a cold, concentrated stare. It was as if he was trying to figure out what was on his mind.
"You've been to Hell and back, haven't you? I can see it in your eyes, the look of a soulless murderer. The fires of Hell are inside you, just waiting to come out. But they've changed you, haven't they? You're under their control now; they've completely taken away any free will that you had. A machine, a weapon, a slave controlled by twelve men who don't give a damn about you." He smirked as he said this. He was having fun getting inside Raiden's head. The worst soldier is an unstable one, and he knew that. Raiden was on his way to that instability.
"NO! That's not true! I DO have a will of my own!" Raiden lashed out, obviously insulted.
"Who are you trying to convince, Jack? Me or yourself? Why do you think the Patriots chose you for their little experiment, the S3 project? Because you never have and never will have any kind of free will. Whether it was in Solidus' army of the Devil, your VR training programs, or at the Big Shell, you've always taken orders from others. You were the puppet and the Patriots were pulling the strings. But don't feel bad, Raiden. You're not the only one. They've sent many of your kind, and each one we eliminated, one by one. And you're next, Jack.
"How do you know about me and the Army of the Devil? Who are you?"
Raiden's new foe then removed the sunglasses covering his eyes. That's when Raiden was able to recognize him.
"You--you're... Ryan. Ryan Lambert."
Ryan Lambert was also a soldier in Solidus' Army of the Devil. He was one of Raiden's best friends, not that he had many. After all, war isn't about friends. It's about enemies, and defeating them.
"No. No longer Ryan Lambert. Now, I'm Ghost, humanity's best and last hope of freedom."
"Why have you turned into a... a terrorist?"
"I would hardly call what we're doing terrorism. The Patriots have robbed this nation of the things that made it what it is, or rather, what it once was. Freedom, opportunity, civil rights." He gave a slight chuckle. "'Home of the free'. 'Land of opportunity'. This nation is neither, thanks to the Patriots. Joins us, Jack, and I guarantee that the Patriots will be no more."
Raiden actually thought about the offer. The Patriots had to be stopped. But what could he do? If he resisted the mission or aided the enemy in any way, his wife and child would be killed. Raiden finally gave an answer.
"No! You're nothing but power hungry tyrants! I refuse!" Raiden obviously didn't want him to know about the situation that the Patriots had brought upon him.
"I see, Jack," replied Ghost. "They have changed you. I have no choice."
He placed his sunglasses back over his eyes and turned toward the guards, who were still standing at attention, with their guns jammed into the backs of both Raiden and McNeil.
"Eliminate the masked one," he told them, "but leave the rookie to me." As he said this, he took out the other handgun in his left leg on either side of his waist. He let both sidearms rest at his side as he gave the guards more orders.
Raiden, however, didn't hear whatever he was saying. He was thinking about what he had said. "They've sent many of your kind, each one eliminated one by one". The words echoed in Raiden's head. Had other helpless souls really been condemned to Raiden's fate? Jack suddenly had a strange combination of sympathy and anger; he didn't feel the two emotions separately, but as one feeling, which is why he thought of it as strange.
"This is your last opportunity, Jack. For freedom. Emancipation," Ghost offered.
"No!" Raiden yelled. "I'll die before I join you!"
"Oh, don't worry Jack. You will die."
"Would you really kill an old comrade?" Raiden asked, as if he didn't know the answer. War changes most soldiers. Some for the best. Some for the worst.
"What do you think, Jack? You will die here, Raiden. But not before you're put to good use. After all, no one should die needlessly, right? Especially someone as useful as you." He pointed one handgun at Raiden's head as he said this. "Although I must admit, the urge to kill you is killing me."
Jack had a confused look on his face. He had no clue what this man was talking about. What did they want him for? And who the hell was this "Boss" he kept talking about? Raiden had a lot to find out, and he silently vowed to get the information that he needed.
"I think I'll enjoy this. Let's see what all your training has done for you. Get ready!" He took out both of his PT945s, pointed them at Raiden, and the battle began.