II
Antarctica
As soon as Raiden opened the door, he was buffeted by what seemed like an avalanche of snow. He quickly close the door and walked around his vehicle, a highly-specialized, armored, all-terrain 'Tengus' APC, and stood so that the vehicle blocked the frigid, Antarctic winds from reaching him. It was still incredibly cold, and Raiden shivered underneath his insulated parka.
Raiden had trained for missions in hostile environments, but, as with most of his training, it had been all with VR, which was definitely not the same as the real thing. Worse, Raiden was a fairly skinny guy, something that was generally a bonus in stealth missions where speed and agility were key, but in no way protected him from the cold.
Raiden blew on his shivering hands, which were freezing despite the heavy-duty gloves he wore, and put his hand up to his ear.
"Colonel?" He queried, as the snowy landscape was replaced by a black and teal one.
"Raiden. I see you are in position."
"What now?"
"I am afraid you are going to have to walk the rest of the way to the installation."
"What?!" Are you insane!? Raiden didn't add.
"The facility is equipped with high tech sensors, Raiden. Any closer, and your APC will be detected."
"Great. How am I supposed to get to the facility without becoming a Raiden-cicle?"
"Go back inside the APC. We were careful in making sure you got the equipment you would need."
His teeth chattering, Raiden temporarily logged off the Codec and shuffled his way back inside. Raiden felt immense relief as he closed the iron door to the outside and walked into the heated interior.
The APC was, basically, a giant, mobile command center. Normally, it would have held about a dozen or more soldiers plus their gear. With only Raiden in it, it was actually even roomier than his apartment.
The only problem was that the APC was designed to eliminate background radio noise to such a degree that it interfered with any other forms of communications save for the APC's own, and, strangely, that included the Codec, hence Raiden's trek outside.
Raiden popped back onto the Codec only to hear a garbled Colonel say, "Switch...radio...APC."
Now he tells me.... Raiden thought with sigh as he headed for the front part of the APC, which was more like the cockpit of an airplane.
Raiden switched the radio on and adjusted the frequency to the one the Colonel used to contact him with. Raiden also flipped a few switches that would let him hear the Colonel throughout the APC.
"That's better. Now, head to the back part of the APC, where we showed you we had kept your SOCOM and M9." Unlike normal communication via radio, the APC's radio eliminated the fuzzy background noise normally associate with radio, so that the Colonel came in almost as clearly as if he were on the Codec. There just wasn't, obviously, an image there to represent the Colonel.
Raiden walked to the back of the APC, which was rather spartan, save for his sleeping palette and couple of gray boxes, one of which contained his handguns. Again, the reason why it was so empty was because that, normally, the back of APC was both where the soldiers slept and where they stowed the bulk of their gear; but again, there was only Raiden to occupy it.
"Open the crate that is marked with the serial number '101387'."
Raiden visually scanned the boxes quickly and soon found the one the Colonel was talking about. Pushing aside the other boxes, Raiden then opened the one marked '101387' and peered in.
"As you can see, it is a replica of your 'Skull' suit, from the Big Shell mission," the Colonel said as Raiden pulled it out and unfolded it, "This one, however, has been adapted for Artic and Antarctic environments. In addition to being white, so as to allow you to blend in with the snow, it has been equipped with a special, nanite thermal insulation."
"Thermal? Nanites? Insulation?"
"Yes. The nanites automatically adjust the amount of heat they generate based on the surrounding temperatures. Additionally, although they run off the suit's miniaturized power plant, they are capable of expanding beyond the suit in order to heat the parts of your body that are directly exposed, such as your face and head."
Raiden couldn't help but continue to look at the suit in skepticism. The Colonel was right about one thing: it did look just like his Skull suit, only dyed white. The suit was capable of lessening the impact of bullets, absorbing shrapnel from low-level explosives, and even preventing the wearer from being cleaved in half by a high-frequency blade, but could it also be capable of keeping him warm in a below-zero environment?
As if sensing his doubt, the Colonel suddenly spoke up, "Try it on, Raiden. Then, go outside and see for yourself."
Raiden shrugged and quickly stripped out of his parka and black jumpsuit. He then threw on the Skull suit. It was strange being back in it. It literally fit him like a second skin; now he truly had been transformed from the mild-mannered Jack to the shadowy assassin, Raiden.
Another odd feature of the APC was that it actually contained a small bathroom, of all things. Just before going out, Raiden decided to examine himself in the bathroom's small mirror.
Normally, Raiden's bleach-blonde hair was mistaken for being white by most people, but, with the suit on, his hair looked more gray than white. Additionally, Raiden saw dark circles under his blue eyes and there was even a thin layer of stubble on his angular chin.
I look like hell. Than, again I feel like hell , too. It is appropriate, I suppose; I do serve the Devil, after all....
With that particularly cheery thought in mind, Raiden finally decided to step outside and put the suit to the test.
At first, things weren't too promising. As soon as Raiden opened the heavy iron door of the APC, he was hit with a blast of cold air that nearly turned him into an icicle then and there. But then, Raiden began to feel a strange sensation spreading from the middle of his suit. Warmth. After a few minutes, even his face felt as it had inside the heated APC.
"As you can see," Raiden heard the Colonel say from inside the APC, "It is quite effective."
Raiden looked down at himself inside the suit. He couldn't help but be impressed. Shaking his head, he went back inside of the APC, so he could hear the Colonel better.
"Now what?"
"Originally, there were several openings to the Antarctic facility, but, according to our latest reports, all but one have either been blocked off or simply destroyed."
"And the only opening left is heavily guarded." Just figures.
"Yes. There is an armory southwest of the opening that is serving as a makeshift guard tower, the actual opening is guarded by snipers and CYPHERS, and satellite scans show infantry on snowmobiles patrolling the nearby tundra."
"So, how do I get in?"
"That, we left up to you."
Absolutely wonderful. Raiden sighed and rubbed his eyes in frustration "Understood. Raiden out."
Raiden headed to the back of the APC once more to retrieve his sidearms. After holstering them, he made sure to also equip himself with a set of binoculars and several ration packs, all of which the Patriots had graciously provided. At the beginning of the mission, Raiden had felt slightly cheesed that the Patriots hadn't provided him with any hardware heavier than his very own sidearms. But now, he felt almost...excited. Here he was again, ready to plunge into enemy territory, with only the Skull suit and a pair of pistols against a foe that was better armed and who greatly outnumbered him. It was almost like being back aboard the Big Shell....
I must be going crazy, Raiden thought to himself with a shake of his head, I am starting to feel nostalgia for the Big Shell mission!
Raiden powered down the APC just before he left. The APC was nuclear powered so running out of fuel was no issue; he just didn't want the enemy to find it before he was able to get back to it, and even a big metallic mass like the APC looked a hell of a lot less threatening when it wasn't producing mass amounts of heat, as well.
Raiden found that is was easier, this time, to leave the APC, now that the heating system of his suit was fully engaged. Raiden pressed his hand to the small screen next to the handle of the door. After a second, Raiden heard a beep and then a hiss chunk as the door locked itself via vacuum seal. Now, only Raiden's DNA could unlock it.
Raiden glanced out across the frozen wasteland of Antarctica. According to the radar attached to his suit, the Antarctic installation lied directly ahead of him. With a big sigh, Raiden began to trudge foreword.
"Raiden has begun his mission?"
"Yes. He has almost reached the installation, in fact."
"Your backup agent is in place, correct?"
"Yes, but I still do not think it is necessary."
"As always, we shall be the judges of that."
"The boy wouldn't possibly try to go against you, now. He still cares far too much for...unimportant things. We have yet to truly break him. Only then could he possibly be a threat."
"Hopefully, this mission will change both his priorities and his sense of loyalty. Actually, no matter the outcome, this mission will have been only the first of young Raiden's final tests. In fact, Hunter is only there to make sure Liquid is properly disposed of."
"Ah, so that is how it is. More tests...just like the Big Shell."
"This test carries some measure of risk, but yes."
"Mm. And what of Snake?"
"You will eventually find that taking care of this problem, shall, in time, take care of that one."
"So, you want the boy to...."
"That is what this has been about all along, after all."
As soon as Raiden saw the lights of the snowmobiles, he ducked back down behind the snow dune and pulled out his binoculars. Zooming in, he watched as the twin sets of snowmobiles zigzagged across the otherwise empty tundra. In the distance, he could make out the square, flat form of the armory, which was his current goal. During the seemingly endless walk toward the facility, Raiden had had an ample amount of time with which to formulate a plan of action. Or at least part of one.
Okay, Raiden, let's do this. As soon as the snowmobiles disappeared from site, the sounds of their engines fading in the distance, Raiden took off running across the snowy tundra, the wind and snow fighting him the entire way, sending his blonde hair whipping around in a frenzy that made it even harder to see. Not that Raiden really needed to see that much; just his target: the armory.
As he ran, the armory slowly began to take shape. It looked more like a warehouse than a military building, with icy blue, ribbed steel walls and a snow covered roof. It was flat against the ground and even its roof was barely pointed at the top; an attempt to make it inconspicuous to prying eyes, both in the air and on the ground.
Eventually, Raiden was able to make out a sliding, steel door as well. As he expected, there was also a camera nearby, its blinking green light giving it away even in the snowstorm. Raiden, still running, removed his SOCOM from one of the many discrete pouches on his suit and aimed from the blinking light of the camera. Hoping that whatever terrorists that were nearby wouldn't be able to hearing anything through the snowstorm, Raiden fired.
The light winked out and his radar still was active; had he been detected, the terrorists would have jammed it. Smiling despite the fact that he was running in a blizzard, Raiden slowed and flattened himself to the side of the armory. Raiden paused and breathed slowly and deeply, in order to calm the panting from his exertions, all the while keeping an ear out for the sounds of any returning snowmobiles. Once his breath had returned to normal, he slowly crept to the nearby steel door.
Damn. The door was electronically locked. And from the looks of it, only the correct security card would be able to get him in.
I've come this far, I can't go back now! Raiden leaned against the door and pounded the door lightly in frustration. Raiden's eyes suddenly snapped open when door began to give in to his weight. Scrambling away from the door, Raiden looked and saw that the locking mechanism of door was frozen solid. In fact, the entire door had become brittle from the extreme cold. Raiden pushed on it as softly as he could, and, soon, he had bent and twisted it enough to make a hole larger enough for him to get through.
That was way too easy.... Raiden though to himself as he squeezed through the hole and into the armory. Blinking rapidly, Raiden tried to adjust his eyes to the darker confines of the warehouse-like building.
As his vision slowly attuned itself, Raiden was finally able to make out the interior. If the outside resembled a warehouse, the inside was even worse. Rows upon rows of huge metal shelves filled the vacuous room Raiden found himself in. Raiden supposed that, under normal conditions, one might have been able to find stacks of crates filled with military hardware, but, as was to be expected, the armory was bare; the terrorists had stripped it clean.
Raiden jumped at the sounds of muffled voices in the distance. Crouching low to the ground, and gripping his SOCOM tightly, Raiden slowly crept in the direction of the voices. Eventually, he was able to make out actual words.
"Dammit! Why the hell are we here?!" the first voice said in Russian.
"Uh...because Liquid needs us to protect the facility?" the second voice answered in the same language. As apart of his training, Raiden had learned to understand every language of the world, allowing him to understand the two speakers even though they were using their native language.
"No! Why are we here? In the middle of nowhere? In the armory and not inside the facility?!"
"Oh, that. Well-"
"I'll tell you why! Because we're not 'good' enough to guard the facility. No, we are yesterday's trash! Instead, Liquid's got those 'new' and 'improved' terrorists doing our job!" The terrorist's voice dropped to a murmur, "Damned Arabs. Blow up two measly towers and they think they own the world...."
"Come on. It's not that bad. At least there's no one here to stop us from drinking on duty." A pause told Raiden that the second voice was doing just that, "Also, this way we don't run into some of the freaks Liquid has wandering the base."
"Hmph. I suppose. I just wish we could have been assigned something with a little more action to it. It has been forever since I was able to shoot something...."
"Here, comrade. Have another drink. It'll make you feel better."
"Oh, alright."
By this point, Raiden had reached the small room the two militiamen were lazing around in. Peeking around the corner and through the doorway, Raiden saw the two terrorists slumped over a small brown table and the bottles of vodka that littered the stone floor.
All at once, an idea took shape within Raiden's head. Pocketing his SOCOM, Raiden reached for his M9. Whirling around the corner, Raiden snapped off two tranquilizer darts in the terrorists' direction.
One hit a terrorist in the arm and the other in the man's leg, but, as Raiden had expected, the two men had already consumed enough alcohol that they went out like a light anyway. The two terrorists' bodies fell to the floor with a small thump.
Holstering his M9, Raiden walked over to the terrorists....
"Hey, its Dmitri!"
Lieutenant Stepanovich peered in the direction in which his comrade was pointing. Sure enough, he could see Dmitri outside of the armory, waving frantically in their direction.
Stepanovich sighed. "They are probably out of vodka, again. Come on." With great reluctance, both he and his partner turned their snowmobiles in the direction of the armory.
As they got closer, Stepanovich was able to make out that Dmitri was quite drunk, even though the man's black mask was still on him: the soldier slowly swayed back and forth and he even belched loudly when they got closer.
Stepanovich and his partner slowed to a stop in front of the swaying man. Stepanovich glared sternly at him. "That is it! No more alcohol for you!"
"Ivan...passed...out...inside...." Dmitri muttered haltingly before falling over sideways.
Stepanovich sighed again. "C'mon, Alexi. You take this one, I'll go find Ivan."
Alexi nodded as they both dismounted. Stepanovich only made it to the doorway before he heard the sound of someone's fist connecting solidly with someone else's head.
"Alexi?" Stepanovich was about to turn when he felt something small and sharp hit his head. Then all he felt was extremely tired....
Raiden quickly slipped off the brown mask and stripped out of the terrorist's heavy overcoat. Turning, he made sure to shoot a dart into the terrorist he had cold cocked, just for good measure.
Then, Raiden slipped into the uniform of the terrorist he had tranquilized, got onto one of the snowmobiles parked nearby, and began driving in the direction of the Antarctic facility....