DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN ANY TITLE IN THE METAL GEAR FRANCHISE IN WHOLE OR IN PART. ALL CHARACTERS, UNLESS OTHERWISE SPECIFIED, BELONG TO THEIR RESPECTIVE OWNERS. THIS FANFICTION IS IN NO WAY AFFILIATED WITH KONAMI OR ANYONE WITHIN KONAMI. THIS FANFICTION IS NOT FOR PROFIT OR PERSONAL GAIN, AND MAY NOT BE PUBLISHED IN ANY FORM. THIS IS A FICTION CREATED BY NOTHING MORE BY A SUPPORTER OF THE SERIES (A "FAN FICTION," IF YOU WILL) AND WAS CREATED SIMPLY TO PROMOTE THE METAL GEAR FRANCHISE.
ALSO, THIS PARTICULAR ENTRY IN THIS FAN FICTION IS AFFILIATED WITH DARK SPLOOSH'S OF "METAL GEAR SOLID 4: DEAD HEAVEN" WITH HIS PERMISSION. THIS DESCRIBES THE MISSION SNAKE SPOKE BRIEFLY WITH MEI LING ABOUT IN THE PROLOGUE OF DARK SPLOOSH'S FANFICTION AS STATED ABOVE, ABOUT THE "OREGON METAL GEAR DATA COLLECTION." THIS ENTRY DESCRIBES THE DETAILS OF THAT MISSION AND HOPEFULLY SHEDS NEW LIGHT ON THE PLOT OF DARK SPLOOSH'S PRESENTATION OF HIS OWN VERSION OF MGS4.
Solid Snake awoke to the sound of a car starting outisde. Unwillingly awakening, he stumbles out of bed and looks outside. Oh, it's just Otacon. But Otacon wasn't driving off, just staying in the car. Snake ran outside from the front door and went to Otacon.
"Otacon, where are you going"
Otacon replied, sitting in the driver's seat, "Nowhere. Just starting up the car so the glove compartment can unlock so I can get my codec.
"You left it in there?" Snake questioned condescendingly.
"Yeah," Otacon replied, unfazed. He wiped the crusted mucus from under his eyes. Then Snake realized it was 6:30 A.M., and the sun had only barely risen over the clouds.
"I was just checking, Otacon" Snake said finally. Turning tail, Snake heard Otacon's voice.
"Snake!"
Snake reluctantly turned his head, his eyes closed. "What?"
"Your next...assignment..."
Snake sighed. He hadn't been on an assignment since he defeated Zidel and ended the terrorist threat. Of course, a lot more has happened since then...the Tanker, the Big Shell...everything.
--
Over the next four hours, Snake found himself on Philanthropy's official new aircraft, flying to Oregon to steal some information regarding a few new Metal Gear models, the Metal Gears themselves being shrouded in mysery, the specs are needed for analysis. The info was to be found in the most strange of coincidences -- an old warehouse that no one had visited in twenty years. It was probably very rickety, rusty, and falling apart. Snake shook his head slipped on the last of his sneaking suit.
"ETA one hour. I hope you're already prepped, Snake."
Snake shook his head again upon hearing the new pilot's voice. While Snake never knew Jonathan, the Zezro 94's old pilot, he did fly him to many mission sites and Snake had grown what he called respect to the die-hard pilot. Dismissing these thoughts, Snake laid back and dozed off.
About ten minutes before ETA, the speaker blared the voice of the new guy.
"Solid Snake, if you're not prepped for the HALO jump yet, I suggest you get ready.
Wait, wait. HALO jump? In Oregon? He was going to get to the bottom of this.
"Otacon," Snake said into the codec in his ear.
"Oh, Snake, hello. You drop yet?"
"That's what I wanted to talk to you about," Snake said grimly, yet at the same time, urgently.
"Oh, listen, sorry Snake...but we can't touch the plane down on Oregon soil."
"Why?"
"Because Snake, we're not authorized to. And even if we did ignore that fact and land, don't you think people would find it funny if a military airfighter touched down in the city outskirts?"
"Wouldn't it be equally crazy to see a soldier touching down by some old warehouse, dropping from a military plane in the sky with a parachute?" Snake countered almost immediately.
"Well, touche Snake. But it's easier on the plane's fuel and also so we can go right in and get right out."
"...How?" Snake questioned, confused.
"You'l find out soon enough," Otacon said playfully, "just finish your mission quickly so you can get back and relax."
"Yeah, sounds good," Snake said before turning his codec off to fully equip himself with the HALO jump gear. He didn't like HALO jumps at all, but he had no choice it would seem. And, almost as if on cue, the pilot's voice burst through the speakers.
"One minute ETA, Snake. Get ready to jump."
Snake took a deep breath, walked to the loading ramp and watched it fold down to the metallic floor of the plane. This was it.
Snake flung himself off into the depths of the sky he was raised into, silently thanking the mask that allowed him to breathe. The reason Snake disliked HALO jumps was because of the nerve tension he always got. It was almost too much for him. Just too adrenaline-pumping.
After Snake had touched down near the warehouse, in the street in front of it to be exact, he gathered up his parachute and tossed it between two buildings, along with his other HALO jump gear. Stealthily hustling to the front dobule doors of the rusty, rickety, worn-out warehouse, Snake pulled at the door. As expected, it did not budge. Snake looked around, just to make sure no one was aware of his presence...at least not yet. When Snake assured himself that the coast was clear, he drew his silenced USP and shot through the red-rusted doorknob, the lock obviously falling the ground to the other side. And what a sight Snake saw.
The entire warehouse was your typical rusty, old warehouse. And in the daylight, it truly seemed pathetic. The walls were what used to be steel, but now they like rusty aluminum due to the years of unmaintenanced aging to the walls. There were rodents everywhere; snakes, rats, mice, and maybe a few bats that Snake disturbed in his newfound presence. The massive, rusty, corroded ceiling had not seen anyone under it in twenty years, and a few beams of rusted steel hung below the ceiling. Carefully advancing, Snake looked more closely at his surroundings. To his right were some wooden staircases Snake did not at all trust, and to the north was nothing but piles of old metal containers as far as the eye could gather. To the west resided a stone staircase leading downwards into the basement of the warehouse, whih Snake trusted more than the old, corroded, half-eaten, weak wooden staircase to the right.
And then it hit Snake. Why would there be any Metal Gear information in this place? Of course it would be the ideal location to keep something secret and hidden: it was old, unassuming, and forgotten. But it would be a terrible base of operations, and sure as hell couldn't house a Metal Gear, even below the warehouse itself. Just when Snake was swamped with these thoughts, Otacon's voice echoed it Snake's ear.
"Hey Snake," Otacon began, "did you get in yet?"
"Affirmative, but it's a damn mess inside. I don't know where I should start looking." Snake reported.
"Well, Mei Ling's digging around on that warehouse's origins as we speak. Right now she's busy searching, but as usual she'll be your data processing analyst. Call her when you want to turn in a save, but I suppose you already predicted that."
"Yeah," said Snake.
"What we do know is that the warehouse apparently was nothing more than a small-time military armory. But it served its purpose years ago and it was left for dead structurally. In the higher levels there are --"
"Yeah, I might not be able to make it to the upper levels," Snake intervened. "The staircase is old, rickety, wooden, half-eaten, and corroded almost everywhere."
"I see...well, we'll cross that bridge when we come to it. Downstairs should be an old storage facility, chock full of of old, useless weapons. That might be where it is."
"All right, I'll start there. Signing out," Snake concluded.
Snake headed down the into the depths of the warehouse.
Almost immediately, Snake realized that the downstairs area was a lot worse than he predicted. There were very strange things downstairs; it seemed as if the entire area was sealed of by old spider webs. And as expected, there were much more vermin down here than in the main area. Only there were bigger snakes, bigger mice, bigger rats, and much more dirty. Shrugging this off, however, he got to his mission objective: searching for the Metal Gear data. Snake tirelessly searched around, breaking through cobwebs, dodging mice and rats, taking cover from bats, and being careful not to breathe too much of the underground air. Just as Snake was about to give up and go back upstairs, he heard a loud crash. Drawing his USP, Snake cocked it and stealthily ran back upstairs. Looking in the back of the main chamber of the warehouse, there was a very large hole. And Snake also noticed that the stairs were practically useless now, many of the boards broken out. Before, it was just very weak and corroded; now it was almost completely destroyed. Someone had run p thm.
"Otaon," Snake said into the codec, "there's another infiltrating this warehouse along with me."
"What?" asked a puzzled Otacon.
"Yeah, they crashed through the back and went upstairs, rendering the stairs now useless."
"Hmm...Snake, did you find anything downstairs?"
"Negative, just cobwebs and rats."
"Then our only bet is upstairs. Snake, you're an expert at free climbing; could you climb there without needing the stairs?" Otacon asked.
"No, there's not enoughholds to climb with," Snake returned.
"Well...damn! Are there any ladders around?"
"Maybe, there's bound to be some. I'll have a look around."
It didn't take long for Snake to notice an old maintenance crate full of supplies and, yes, a ladder. But it was fairly old, so Snake would have to watch himself with it. Setting it up, Snake slowly climbed up the ladder he set against the wall leading up to the last step of the stairs, which he would have to carefully step on. When Snake stood on the board, it almost crushed under his weight, but Snake quickly got off of it and onto the floor of the second level. Snake looked around and, at first, saw nothing. But then, Snake saw a man that wore a long black leather coat and a mask. But why would a lowly thug be in a old military armory warehouse? But of course, Snake was there, so this man must be after the same thing Snake was after: the Metal Gear data. Thinking quickly, Snake pointed the USP at the black mask-wearing thug.
"Who are you? What are you doing here?"
The man didn't turn around, but Snake saw in his hand a very thick, almost book-like document stack, and a zip disk grasped between the man's glove-covered thumb and the documents, presumably the Metal Gear data.
"Drop them," Snake ordered harshly.
The person finally spoke. "So you were involved, too? Well, it doesn't surprise me. But I'm afraid you won't be getting these."
"Like hell I won't," Snake said defiantly.
"Don't get too cocky, Snake. You might not have much to be cocky about. Well, in a demented sort of way, yes. But I really should be going..."
Snake fired the USP at the figure but he dodged it and ran to the window, jumping out of the glass veil, breaking the weak glass and falling out of it. Snake ran over to the window and looked out of it, but the strange being was nowhere in sight. Snake called Otacon.
"Otacon," Snake began, "I think I may have found the data, but..."
"But what?" Otaocn said reluctantly.
"That other person got it before I did, and I couldn't stop him. He was some character, wearing something straight out of a John Woo movie," Snake said humorously.
"...Damn...well Snake, search the area just to be sure."
"Will do," Snake concluded before turning off the codec.
As Otacon requested, Snake did indeed sweep the area, but found nothing of any significance. Giving up, Snake climbed down the ladder and walked out of the front door.
And to Snake's surprise, he saw a civilian helicoptor on the roof of an opposing building to the warehouse. On Snake's codec, a voice said "Snake, we're acting like we're delivering supplies around the city, so hurry into the coptor or get left behind."
So this was the extraction method. Clever, Snake thought, but Snake didn't like the ride back home, because the pilot was very inexperienced and kept swerving around. When they finally did return to headquarters, Otacon greeted him with "I guess this is a mission failure."
Those words were something Snake did not hear very often. Clenching his teeth, Snake knew he would have to work harder next time.
And he would. Because Otacon had located Olga Gurlukovich's child in Ohio.