Chapter Nine
"Miss? Miss?"
Mei Ling awoke from her half slumber and for the first time became aware of her fellow traveller, withdrawing her head from the shuddering train window. As dignified as she could manage, she wiped the skin between her right eye and her nose for moisture and squinted at her addresser. She knew not how long he'd been trying to wake her.
"Pardon me, miss, but it ain't safe to sleep on these trains," the man explained. He was an incredibly thin man of medium height, his relatively pleasant face by comparison carrying the wrinkles of decades. Grey hair tufted on his jaw, making him appear older than he actually was. "I'd try to stay awake until your home safe if I were you."
Whether or not it was her imagination the eyes of a large, burly man in the corner of the carriage seemed to rise to her when the old man spoke, before returning to his window. On this evidence, she decided to take her recent acquaintance's advice. Somewhere in the carriage, a baby began to cry.
"Thank you," Mei answered. The wrinkles on his face rounded into a smile.
"I'm Frank," she was surprised to hear him say. Having only arrived in New York yesterday for the first time in years she was certainly not fully up to date with their habits but had never undergone introductions on the underground before.
"Amanda Lei," she lied. She really couldn't trust anyone with her real name.
"Pleasure to meet ya," Frank concluded. "Do you live in Queens?" He asked, startling her before she realised where she was going.
"No," she answered. She recalled Otacon's instructions. "Visiting relatives."
"Glad to hear it," he said. "You make the most of family while you still got it. Me, I spent too much of my youth on a motorbike or behind bars." She didn't know whether to laugh or not at his joke, and produced a strange sort of grin. She felt really stupid, but then he smiled again to put her at ease.
"After you've been in jail, freedom means a lot more to ya than it used to," he went on. "Nowadays, it's all I have."
The last few days had been a strange mixed bag for Mei Ling. To start it all off, she had been woken in the middle of the night by a phone call from Otacon, telling her to make her way to New York immediately. Ever since she'd been following his instructions and little else: packing light, taking the train rather than flying, lying about who she was and where she was going... it would have been little surprise to anyone who had a summary of her last couple of nights to know that being woken yet again was less than welcome to her. However, she now appreciated this Frank's concern, and his company was the first she'd had since taking sick leave from her computer-programming job back in Washington. Her resolve to help bring an end to the Patriots was now stronger than ever following the man's words. Most of all, she needed to find her father, but the Twelve were fast moving up her list of priorities.
"You're unemployed?" she regretted her prying words almost as soon as she'd let them out. "I'm sorry," she said when no answer came.
"No worries, Miss," he replied with his custom grin. "In fact, I'm on my way to an interview now." She knew that he was joking this time. His shabby clothes marked him as a drifter.
They continued talking for a while, Frank telling her about his past job and Mei informing him about hers. He congratulated her on such an interesting occupation, and Mei offered condolence about his firing from the steelworks. The more the conversation went on, the more Mei saw how many decent people struggled through life and how little the battles she'd influenced with her technology mattered. Frank must've been one of millions who would lead the same life regardless of who was in charge of the country. But at least, she thought, they could bring him and others real freedom when this was all over.
"Are you Japanese?" he inquired, to break a period of silence.
"Chinese," she answered. "Well, I was born in America, but my mother's from China."
"I getcha," he acknowledged. "I'm born and bred US citizen," the drifter told her. "I've been abroad before, but never as far as Asia. I think one of my aunts on my mother's side married a Frenchman, but that's about it." He chuckled to himself, showing a row of cracked teeth.
"Where is it that you went?" she asked. "When you went abroad, I mean."
"'Nam," she found out. "You're talking to the last survivor of General George "Custer" Jones' world renowned suicide squad." It shocked her a little to discover that he was a soldier. "Never did find out why he was called "Custer"," he shook his head as he spoke. She let out a small giggle.
"How long were you there for?" she asked him.
"Three months," he answered. "And I've got the shrapnel wound in my leg to show for it. Haven't quite been the athlete I was since." She laughed again. "Old Custer sent me back home after I caught malaria. Didn't want to, like, but doctors orders are doctors orders, even if he was a prat."
"I'm glad you got out alive," she said. "A lot of people didn't."
"Sometimes I wish that I hadn't," the old man replied. "I left the best friends I ever had in that jungle."
Again, Mei noted how an honest man like this had been hurt by the Patriots. Whether that particular war was just or not, it had been their idea, as had every war the US had been involved in since. She continually saw why Otacon was trying to bring an end to them.
"Almost there," he said as the train thundered past more steely darkness. She let out a small yawn in agreement. "I'm sorry again about wakin' ya before, Miss Lei," the traveller told her in response. "I just noticed your briefcase. It's another target for those who live around here, though they got darker ones too."
"Don't mention it," she replied. "I'm grateful. All it is is a few personals..." She didn't like lying to Frank, but she didn't have much of a choice. Anyone could be listening in, and she didn't really want to be talking about nanotechnology to anyone who didn't need to know about it.
"But ya wouldn't be without 'em," he finished her sentence for her. She smiled and nodded.
The train began to slow down. "Well, end of the line Miss," he sighed, and they both began to stand. "Listen, I've got nothin' to do for a few hours. I'll walk you to wherever you're going if you'd like."
Before she could answer, the train came to a jolting stop, throwing both Frank and Mei back into their seats. She glanced out of the window, and saw that they were far short of the station. A yellow "caution" sign was the last thing she saw before the lights in the tunnel went out, swiftly followed by those on the train. Alarmed voices ran panicking through the entire carriage as words like "power cut" and "terrorists" were thrown around like confetti. Her eyes began to grow accustomed to the dark, and she made out Frank's outline.
"We've got to get out of here," she whispered to him as she realised the cause. "This isn't an ordinary power cut. Trust me."
"That may be true, Miss," he answered. "But we can't start a panic by breaking a window open."
Mei Ling again got up from her seat, leaving her briefcase with Frank, and felt her way past people to the front of the carriage. She found what she was looking for: the emergency box. She pried it open, breaking a fingernail painfully in the process, and pulled from it a long cylindrical object. Before she could snap it open and light the flare, she felt herself being knocked to the ground by a sudden stampede of people. Mei kept tight hold of the flare as she retreated under a nearby seat to avoid being trampled on. Screams were coming from the back end, and people were banging at the doors. She heard a window nearby shatter and for the first time began to fear for her life.
"Miss Lei?" She turned at the sound of someone addressing her. It was Frank, although she couldn't see him in the dark. She felt his hand grab her arm and drag her out from the seat with a strength that belied his thin stature. "Come on." Her fast-adapting eyes allowed her to see him kick a Plexiglas window right through. The musty odours of the tunnel seeped into her nostrils.
"We're going to have to jump," he told her. "I'll go first." He sat on the window frame where the plastic glass had stood before and swung his denim-clad legs round to the outside of the train before sliding off to the deactivated track below. He landed with a small thud, but picked himself up quickly, not once dropping her suitcase.
"Now you," he shouted through the screams that threatened to engulf them both. An elbow slammed hard into her back, pushing her out of the window. She grabbed at the ledge, but the pain running through her index finger was too great. She left her heart in her mouth as her hand slipped, and she fell from the window towards the rigid tracks below.
"Oomph," her body slammed hard into Frank's chest as he did his best to cushion her fall. He fell backwards onto the gravel, almost chuckling to himself. "You OK, Miss?" he asked.
"Fine," she called over the noise. "What now -"
Her voice trailed away as the commotion on the train was brought to an abrupt silence at the sound of a gunshot. The quiet lasted a few mere seconds before the screams started again, even louder than their predecessors. Mei Ling looked back down the tunnel down which the train had travelled and saw flashlights cutting through the pitch-blackness.
"Shit," she swore, and got to her feet as fast as she could. "We have to run," she told Frank and helped him to his feet.
"Much obliged, Miss," the drifter replied, picking her suitcase up from the ground. "I'll carry this for you."
There was no time to argue, and Mei began to run over the gravel towards the station, knowing her pursuers were not far behind them. She heard Frank's footsteps crunching behind her, but no one is very fast over thick gravel. She couldn't even afford to light the flare in the dark. They planned it this way, the young woman thought. But it isn't going to end like this.
Soon enough, she made out the lights of the station ahead. Unable to wait a second, Mei sprinted the rest of the way there and reached the platform in ten seconds flat. She waited for Frank to catch up with her briefcase, and he helped her up onto the concrete platform before shimmying up himself. Policemen had begun to arrive on the scene, pushing their way through a panicking crowd that where heading closer to the tracks to discover what had made the loud noises.
"There," she shouted at Frank, pointing at the packed escalator. "We've got no choice."
"No, he said, still holding his injured leg. "We've gotta take the elevator. It'll be faster."
The pair met the charging crowd head on, pushing their way through towards the elevator that would take them to the safety of the streets above. Mei couldn't afford to be stopped by police, and so moved with all deliberate speed away from the blue uniforms that were trying to plough through the human sea that flooded the platform.
Finally, they reached it. Mei moved to the side and hammered on the "up" button. More gunshots filled the air, and Mei turned to look back at the rail track. The crowd had began to part for black-clad figures, armed with silver guns. They opened fire on the police, killing several in an instant. She saw one turn his masked head towards the elevator. A young Asian woman near her screamed for her child.
A pleasing ding announced the arrival of the elevator. She was about to step inside, but a hand grabbed at her arm, preventing her from advancing. She was thrown to the floor, and looked up to see the man who assaulted her attempt to step into the elevator. Before he could, however, Frank grabbed him by his collar and hit him hard across the face with her suitcase. He helped her up, and together they entered the elevator. She picked up the flare that she'd dropped outside before the door slammed shut on the reddened face of her assaulter.
"You alright?" Frank asked her as the hum of the lift shaft began.
"Yeah, fine."
"Are you gonna tell me what this is all about?" he said at last. "Seems you know a little more than you're lettin' on."
"I'm sorry," she answered. "All I can tell you is that those... men are after me. This briefcase," she gestured at what he was holding, "contains a serum that can help a friend of mine who is very ill."
Frank chewed his bottom lip. "You have to believe me," she begged.
"I believe you, Miss," he told her. "And we're gonna get outta here alive. I'm not leaving anyone behind this time." Mei couldn't help but smile. "That friend of yours is as good as saved, don't you worry."
The conversation stopped as the elevator was brought to a screeching halt. Mei stumbled, and grabbed Frank's jacket to stop herself from falling. He steadied her, and they both looked up as a small creaking began to emanate from the roof. Another instant, and sparks began to rain down on them. The assassin was using a laser to cut through the elevator.
"Get behind me," Frank instructed. He put her briefcase down on the ground and pulled a pistol from the inside of his jacket. She stared with amazement as a square opening was cut in the top of the lift and a cowled head looked in. Frank fired upwards twice, once hitting the metal roof and then shooting through the opening. The assassin withdrew his face, and a few seconds later a small, round object fell in next to where Mei was crouched. A hissing sound emitted from it, announcing gas. Almost immediately, tears began to form in her eyes.
"Tear gas," she hoarsed, her voice breaking. She pulled a handkerchief from her shirt pocket and covered her mouth. Frank kept firing, until nothing but soft clicks shot from his gun. There was a momentary silence.
"Is he dead?" Mei asked.
"Yeah," Frank coughed, his hand covered by his own handkerchief. "Good job I still carry it with me," he said, cocking his gun.
"Give me a boost up," she told him. "I'll see if I can get it moving again." Frank did as he was commanded, offering his clutched hands for her to step on and then lifting her up into the ceiling. He picked up his tissue again, and put it to his mouth so he could stop holding his breath.
Mei pulled herself up onto the elevator roof. It was pitch black, and she hadn't time for her eyes to adjust again. She snapped the flare open, and used the red flame to look around. There was no noise save for the last breaths of the assassin leaving his body through a star shaped entry wound in his chest. Finally, Mei identified a metal clutch on one of the four cables leading up the shaft as the cause of the halt. She laid the flare precariously close to the edge as she reached forward towards the clutch. One slip, and she would plummet to her doom. Her fingers felt for some sort of release switch, but there wasn't one.
"Any luck?" Frank called from inside the elevator.
"Sort of," came the reply. "One second..." she picked up the dying flare and crawled back towards the masked corpse. She pulled the green light emitting goggles from his face and stretched the rubber over her own head, enabling her to see in an emerald clarity. In the man's right hand was the laser cutter. She prised it from his dead fingers and crawled back to the cable. Very carefully, making sure not to cut the cable, she applied the laser beam to the iron clutch. After a few minutes she had cut right through it, releasing the steel cable from its confines.
"Frank, press the button for the ground floor," she ordered him. "And then the emergency stop button when I say." When she could see the shiny metallic floors above, she called down again. "Now, push it," she held tight to the roof's support beams as the elevator jerked to a halt once more. "And get up here."
With some difficulty, Mei Ling managed to pull her choking comrade up onto the roof of the now-still elevator. She then slid what remained of her long fingernails into the crevice between the two doors that would open onto the winding corridors of the ground floor and pulled them open to the slightest of entrances.
"Check that guy," she whispered, handing him the goggles. "He should have a short length of thick wire on his belt somewhere." After a few seconds, Frank returned with an object that was very much like she had described. There was a small control unit attached, like one would find on a personal stereo. She took the goggles back from Frank and connected the wire into the side of the left goggle before switching it on. She then put the goggles on and threaded the length of wire through the small gap she had created between the two doors. Her gamble had paid off: it was an optic cable.
Turning the cable left and right, she saw that there was no one in the corridor before them. She checked the ceiling too, just in case.
"All clear," she informed Frank. "Let's go."
"I'm too old for this."
Soon enough they found themselves pacing as quietly as possible down the turning corridors of the train station, two people of very different backgrounds and lives united in a struggle to survive. Mei knew how brave Frank was being. He had nothing to fight for save her life, but he was putting everything on the line to do so. She hoped that they could get out of there like he said, but they had a long way to go...
Without warning, a gunshot rang out behind them. It missed Mei Ling's head by centimetres and smashed through the plaster wall before them. In her panic, Mei tripped and fell to the ground. She rolled onto her stomach, and saw Frank turn and open fire repeatedly at their pursuers. The eighteen year old could only watch in stunned horror as more bullets ripped through Frank's chest and stomach, spraying her with blood. Yet there he stood, continuing to pump the trigger until his clip ran out and he could no longer keep himself from falling. He slumped to his knees, his gun still clicking away in his hands. She crawled to his side, shooting pains running through her ankle from her fall.
"Frank..." she spoke his name softly as he turned to face her.
"Shhhh..." he spluttered more blood from his mouth. "You get outta here. Don't worry about me. I ran out of things to live for a long time ago. I'm just happy if I helped you."
"Thank you, Frank."
"'Bye, Mei Ling."
He held up her briefcase that still bore her name on the handle with his last iota of strength. She took it from him, and again felt tears welling up in her eyes as he died.
Commands came from down the hallway where the gunmen had stood just moments ago, and she forced herself to her feet. Her ankle still wrecked, and she hobbled as fast as she could around the corner.
A crowd of panicking people again faced her. If they kept running that way, they'd be mowed down by the assassins' gunfire. Mei found that she still clutched Frank's gun, empty though it was. She held it in the air for the oncoming people to see, and began to shout the first obscenity that entered her brain. Most of the onslaught stopped, some continued screaming past her. She heard gunshots behind her, one bullet ripping through an old Japanese woman by her side. Weapon less; the injured girl decided that all she could do was run. She knew she had no other chance any more. She ran as fast as her twisted ligament would allow, knocking anyone smaller than her that got in her way, her spirit falling with each of them.
For a second she turned back, and saw the green eyes of her chasers burning through the herd of frightened people. They were moving much faster than she was, and they'd be on her in less than a minute even if she ran at full pace, which her ankle deemed impossible. Not watching where she was going, she ran smack bang into what she at first thought must've been a wall. The impact knocked her backwards, and when she looked up she saw a large masked man. She said a silent prayer for her mother as she looked upon what could only be another assassin.
However, the masked man did not look down at her. Rather, he stood tall and faced where she had come from. She came to notice that his mask was different from the ones that the others had wore: for one, it did not restrict his hair, which fell loose over his shoulders; and no green light flooded from night vision goggles on his face. He wore a long, brown trench coat and what looked like a rubber sneaking suit underneath. In his right hand was what Mei recognised as a FAMAS rifle.
"Step away from her while you still can," he bellowed. When he spoke, it was like a thousand knives running off each other at once, assuring her and frightening her at the same time. Mei looked back, and saw her potential killers stopping dead in their tracks. She tried to stand, and felt the man's powerful hand pulling her behind him. The assassins stopped, not knowing whether they should attack or not. Mei counted six of them, all heavily armed. What remained of the crowd parted for her saviour as he began to step forward.
"Step away," he repeated his command. Five of them looked to the final one, who hesitated. Finally, he shouted:
"Attack! Gun him down."
In a split second, the man before her raised his gun. A burst of sudden fire erupted from it, and all six men fell dead. It took another second for blood to run from their heads onto the marble floor of the train station corridor.
"Are you okay?" Mei was surprised when Otacon was suddenly at her side. "Are you hit?" he asked frantically. She shook her head slowly, her eyes still fixed on the scene of the battle she'd just witnessed as it replayed through her mind.
"VII," Otacon called to the masked figure. "We have to get out of here. Now."
"You go," VII replied. "I'll make sure they don't follow." Otacon helped her to a vertical base, and picked her briefcase up from the ground.
"I can manage," she said, taking back her arm. If it were to be the last thing she did, she would make sure that Frank and others had not died in vain. Otacon just hoped that Rose and the getaway vehicle were okay...
VII retreated around a corner as more shot flew passed him. He fired round it, but there were more this time. Another glance told him that they were not as well equipped as the others, and for a reason he could not remember he recognised the way they moved.
"Ninja," he smiled to himself beneath his mask. Again he fired around the corner, but hit only air. They were a long way away, and if he could keep them firing their ammo would soon run dry. The only problem was, Emmerich had the other clip. He revealed his masked face for a fraction of a second, and found himself under more pistol fire from his sprinting adversaries. Each time he did so, he counted down the shots they had left. Many more, and they'd be defenceless. Now he heard their soft footsteps on the marble, and knew that he could wait no longer. He moved from his cover and emptied his remaining clip on five approaching ninja. Another four still stood, and rolled out of any further attack. They had run out too, but if his assumption as to their identities was correct, they were far from helpless.
No more shots rang out. The quartet encircled him, ready for the kill. He breathed in deeply, the threatening rattle in his throat causing the least bit of doubt in their movements. He allowed his coat to slide gracefully from his shoulders as he revealed his large muscles, looking from side to side for any sudden motions. He bowed ever so slightly, and invited combat with a flick of his wrist.
In a second they were upon him. A kick flew toward his face straight away, but he saw it coming and crossed his arms against it and ducked a second from his left, before arching his spine backwards to avoid a swinging right fist. One of the four attempted a leg sweep; VII leapt over it and spun in mid air with incredible grace for a man his size. As he came back down, he brought his heel into the face of the ninja whom had attempted the first attack, a sickening crack announcing the end of the usefulness of his jaw.
He saw another try a punch, but turned it into an arm-breaking counter. The attacker was doubled over with pain, and VII brought his elbow into the back of the man's head with immense impact and thrust his own foot backwards to prevent any attack from behind. It connected with the tight, muscular stomach of the fourth assaulter.
VII followed it up with a spin kick, which the man blocked and attempted a kick of his own. VII ducked, saw the opening for an uppercut, and took it. The ninja lifted from his feet with the punch and fell flat onto the marble floor, not to move again.
The final martial artist had his first, second, and third punches blocked, parried and countered. He back-flipped away from VII's kick, and used his incredible agility to leap towards him, feet first. VII stepped aside instantly, and watched the ninja roll through, turn, and charge. In a split moment, VII spun and allowed his hand to cut through the air with the motion of a ballerina. A second later, and his curved hand sliced into part of the oncoming skull of the ninja, bringing the attack to an abrupt halt. As though encoring for an invisible audience, VII smashed his knee into the rising face of the man who still clutched his broken arm, sending him to the floor and knocking him unconscious.
A sharp laugh rumbled around in his throat as the masked mercenary known as VII looked down at his conquered foes. There had been a reason why they'd sent ninja, a reason VII aimed to find and use it against them. In a sweeping motion, he picked his brown coat from the marble floor and hurled it round his shoulders, gracefully sliding his arms in. He turned, and walked quickly to where his allies had fled just minutes before, the sound of his boots on marble echoing through the now empty corridor.
The door to the cold steel cell opened, offering limited illumination. Snake felt himself being thrown headfirst onto the metallic surface of the temporary light shaft by the powerful hands of his two escorts. He hit the floor hard, and didn't attempt to rise before the two guards were long gone. For what seemed the longest time he simply lay on the smooth surface of the prison cell, letting the ice like texture run over his electricity burns as he slipped in and out of consciousness.
Eventually he dragged his head off the floor, and shifted with his manacles towards what passed for his bed. He needed to think.
It would be fair to say that Snake had expected some sort of rescue attempt by now, from perhaps Otacon or Jack. Then again, he didn't know how much time had passed since his capture, and his captors had told him nothing. He knew neither where he was, nor what he was there for. The only activity he'd had was being dragged into the large round room for torture. He did know that they were trying to make him deny his name, for whatever purpose. He'd say his name was Snake, and they'd give him pain. That was the routine. But for all Snake knew, Otacon could be a couple of metres away, receiving the same sort of treatment.
Snake had considered that if he was going to get out of there, he was going to need to do it himself.
Author's Note: I hope you enjoyed that chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it. It was one of those times where the words didn't simply come to me: I had to work for them. Originally, I was just going to throw in a homeless person as an afterthought, someone to talk to Mei while she was on the train. However, since Frank has come out so strong, I'd like to think of him as a sort of tribute to the powerful character of a fellow Frank, Grey Fox, who was also heavily involved in the Vietnam conflict.
I know that "ninja assassins" sound worn out and corny nowadays, but these have not been thrown in as an afterthought. They are there for a reason.
Thanks to Lord Crimson and lionheart614 for their comments. Vamp will be here soon, and I hope to make him as complex and exciting as possible. Also, thanks to Scarbie for her reviews, and Ginger for her latest and for sticking with this fic throughout. Oh, and Ray AP2 for his worthwhile contributions.
Hobobob... fuck you.
