Chapter 1: The Ultimate Infiltration To End All
"If you were going to shoot a mime, would you use a silencer?"
- Steven Wright
They call Alaska "The Last Frontier." Many people think space is the last frontier, but that is wildly incorrect. It is in fact Alaska. Thanks to the media, Star Trek, and AIDS activists, space has taken Alaska's beloved nickname. This has been a hot topic for a many number of years in the Alaskan government, for Alaskan citizens feel slightly miffed that a thing as petty and empty as space could possibly deserve their beloved title. "There's like, nothing in it, for crying out loud," Alaskan State Representative Jim Maguyuksukasiku said in a recent press conference. "It's freaking space. There's no frontier, just SPACE. Am I only the only one who notices this? I feel like I'm taking crazy pills!"
The end result of the "State of Alaska vs. Space" trial was several brutal murders and a mind-blowing game of checkers. It was eventually settled out of court because Alaska decided they "don't think it's that great a name anyways. It's kind of depressing if you think about it."
Oh,
I'm terribly sorry. I've completely derailed the introduction to
this chapter with a bunch of vaguely applicable garbage. I only meant
to say that first sentence there, but then it kind of got out of
hand…I have that bad habit, you know, it comes from my grandmother.
She couldn't order a steak sandwich at Arby's without telling the
cashier half her life story. It drove people simply bonkers,
including her family. Well, she's dead now. Got hit by a manure
truck. Awful way to die, I think. Goddammit, there I go again. Well,
anyway, I apologize. Let me start over.
They call Alaska "The Last Frontier." Why exactly it's called that is uncertain—it's a pretty lame nickname for a state—but what is for certain is that Alaska is really fucking cold. In fact, they probably should have just named it "The Really Motherfucking Cold State," because that's a more accurate description than "The Last Frontier." Equally fitting nicknames are "Cold As Hell, Don't Visit Here," "Your Balls Will Seriously Fall Off," and "Swimming In Our Water Will Sterilize You."
As Snake swam up to the Shadow Moses Island Nuclear Disposal Facility wearing nothing but a facemask, some scuba gear, and his Sneaking Suit, that last one rang particularly true.
"Mmfcrkrfflcker." A muffled cry emanated from Snake's scuba mask, sending bubbles floating up the water's surface ten feet above him. He couldn't feel most of his digits anymore. Ten minutes of swimming in subzero Arctic water had rendered them completely useless.
Oh well, Snake thought to himself as he propelled his freezing body to the surface. It's not like I use fingers and toes for anything important, right? I mean, balancing? Who needs that? Sissies, that's who. And, fingers? Useless. Only thing I used those for was, um…cutting pie. Wait a minute, oh shit. I love pie.
Snake's thought process was cut short as his head silently broke the water's surface. The first thing he noticed was the volume of the cavern he was in—it was high-ceilinged and stone, which meant amplified noises. Immediately, Snake regretted eating those microwave bean burritos for pre-mission brunch.
Through his ochre-tinted goggles, Snake could see he was about 20 feet away from a reasonably-concealed concrete platform. His battle-hardened mind told him that dog-paddling over to that platform and climbing onto it was the best possible plan of action. Even though there was a much better hiding spot only half the distance away, Snake went with his instinct, which he knows is always the best choice. Well, not always. Candy Land and chess are not good places to trust your instincts, as Snake learned a long time ago during a rather embarrassing board game incident with the Colonel.
Snake was about to silently slip over to the platform when a loud clanking sound reverberated throughout the cavern. It seemed to be originating from the far end of the cavern, where Snake was headed. It went on and didn't stop for 20 seconds. When the noise died away, Snake took out his binoculars, curious to see what had caused the disturbance.
He peered through his binoculars. Through them he saw…a grinning Colonel Campbell giving him the finger? Confused, Snake turned the binoculars over to look at the opposite end. He sighed and removed a photo depicting what he had just seen through the lenses. The Colonel had apparently been screwing around with his digital camera and taken a snapshot of him flipping the bird. On the back side of the photograph he saw a scrawled message: "you suck snake lol. peace out."
With an exasperated sigh, Snake crumpled up the photograph and tossed it away. Once again, he raised the binoculars to his eyes. "What a douchebag," he growled.
At once he realized what had been causing the noise: a large cargo elevator on the other end of the cavern. It had been bearing a passenger down to the lower level…a passenger, Snake noticed with surprise, he had been briefed about just a few hours ago.
Liquid Snake. In all his black trenchcoat clad, shirtless glory.
"Stay alert," he said to the guards on duty, his evil British accent bouncing all around the cavern. "He'll be through here…I know it."
Snake inwardly rolled his eyes. What a smartass.
"I'm going to go swat down a couple of bothersome flies," Liquid proclaimed. He then turned around, took a flyswatter out of his trenchcoat, and swung it at a nearby wall. After a couple of good whacks, he turned back around.
"Now that that's done with," he said, putting the flyswatter back into his coat, "I have to go shoot down some F-16 fighter jets with the Hind. It'll be a breeze." He started laughing. "Get it, breeze? Because the Hind's a helicopter, and the rotors spin around really fast and make…" he stopped laughing, seeing that the two guards weren't really catching on to the joke. "Ehem, well. Keep a good lookout for that guy. Seriously, he'll fuck this place up."
The guards nodded automatically. One spoke. "Got it sir. Keep a lookout for the guy, fuck this place up."
Liquid shook his head. "No, no," he said. "Keep a lookout for the guy, or he will fuck this place up."
The other guard nodded. "Got it. Keep a lookout for fucking, bring the guy into this place."
Liquid looked at both the guards quizzically. "No," he said, a twinge of exasperation in his voice. "Keep a lookout for the guy, he will fuck this place up."
"Affirmative. Fuck the guy, keep a lookout for this place."
"No, no, it's—"
"Fuck the lookout, let the guy into this place."
"What? No, what I said was—"
"Keep a guy for fucking, lookout for this place."
"For God's sake, I said—"
"Fuck lookout place guy up fuckity fuck fuck fuck—"
"SHUT THE GODDAMN HELL UP!"
The guards stopped talking. A vein on Liquid's forehead was throbbing, and he was glaring daggers at the two men.
"Listen," he said, trying to keep his temper under control. "Just don't let anybody through. Got it?" He said the last part through gritted teeth, his face red.
The two guards quickly glanced at each other. "Sir, yes sir!" they barked, a hint of nervousness in their voices.
"Good," Liquid said. "Now…go back to your positions."
"Sir, yes sir!"
Liquid peered at them. "Well, what are you waiting for? Go!"
The guards nearly tripped on themselves scrabbling back to their posts.
Liquid turned and walked back to the elevator, rolling his eyes. "I swear to God, one of these days I am going to drop-kick one of them. In the face."
As the cargo elevator made its noisy way back up, Snake lowered his binoculars. He silently shook his head in disbelief. These guys were stupider than the Colonel. This whole thing was going to be a piece of cake.
Snake resumed his plan and swam over the concrete platform. Without much effort, he silently pulled himself onto it. Making sure he was completely out of sight from the guards, he reached up to his ear and called Campbell on the Codec.
"This is Snake," he whispered. "Colonel, can you hear me."
He heard Campbell's damnable voice in his ear. "Loud and clear, Snake. The reception is great on this beast."
Snake sighed. "Listen, Colonel, it looks like the elevator in the back is the only way up."
"Just as I expected. You're going to have to take the elevator to get to the surface."
"No shit, Colonel. I kind of figured that out already. Is there anything I need to know, besides that?"
"You need to make sure nobody sees you. These guys will lay the smackdown on your ass harder than The Rock on steroids. If you need to contact me at any time, the Codec frequency is 140.85. Let me repeat that. 140.85. Did you get it? You should probably write it down or something. 140.85. Seriously, get out a pen. This is serious stuff. ONE. FOUR. OH. POINT. EIGHT. FIVE."
Snake exploded. "COLONEL! Shut the fuck up! The Codec stores all the main frequencies, I don't need to write anything down! God, it's like talking to a five-year-old!"
The Colonel chuckled on the other end of the line. "Ok, ok, I get it. One more thing, Snake. You should also know how the Codec works. It's really fascinating actually. You see, it stimulates the small bones of your ear so that only you can hear it. Pretty wild, huh? It's like having a cell phone in your cranium. Pretty crazy."
Snake's voice was dripping with exasperation. "Is that all?"
"Hmm…oh yes. Like we said in the briefing, you need to arm yourself with some kind of weapon. We have learned that the terrorists regularly leave guns and ammo lying around their base for anyone to pick up and take. It's really odd, actually. Why leave stuff around that will aid your destruction? I mean, would Superman leave a chunk of Kryptonite lying on his front doorstep? You bet your ass he wouldn't. Which makes me wonder if—"
"Colonel."
"What?"
"We're on a deadline here."
"Oh, right, right. Nuclear warfare and such. Well, I guess if you have to, I can let you go. Remember, just dial the Codec if you need me."
"Yes, I understand."
"Alrighty. Bye."
The Codec clicked off. Snake breathed a sigh of relief.
"I swear to God, I'm surrounded by idiots."
With that, he climbed onto the main floor of the cavern and crouched behind a steel barrel. As he sat there with his back against the cold metal, he took a good long look at the entrance to this underground dock. It would be the last time he saw an exit to what would become a hellhole of death, pain, and madness. Within the next 24 hours, he would witness countless people die, some by his own hand. He would fight people to near death, be tortured, find out the truth about his past, fall in love, make a friend, and prevent a global nuclear war.
Boy, life sure is a bitch.
Sorry for the short chapter, but I'm leaving for vacation tonight and I really wanted to get a chapter in before then. I really hope you guys are enjoying this. If you are, please leave a review. I thrive on reviews like a mother-in-law thrives on misery. No offense to any of you actual mother-in-laws out there, even if you are a bitch.
Peace out, I'll be back July 3rd. Remember, reviews make me a happy panda.
