Plant Chapter, Initial Infiltration

April 29th, 2009

"Snake, do you remember the sinking of that tanker two years ago?" Questioned Colonel Roy Campbell, commanding officer of the special operations group, FOXHOUND, and in turn, former commanding officer of Solid Snake.

"Of course," The voice that replied to the Colonel was raspy, but not naturally. The voice sounded like it had gone through filters to achieve the tone and texture that it had.

"Terrorists blow a hole in an oil tanker full of crude, barely twenty miles off the shore of Manhattan – Your classic nightmare." As Colonel Campbell spoke, two Navy Black Hawk helicopters sped along the New York Harbor at an altitude no greater than forty feet, in the early morning hours. The sun hadn't risen yet, but darkness didn't reign. "It didn't take long for the government to put an oil fence around the whole mess. And then, that massive offshore cleanup facility went up inside. The 'Big Shell'." The helicopters passed under the Verrazano Bridge, heading out into the ocean.

"I hear the cleanup isn't quite over yet," Snake said.

"It takes time," Campbell retorted. "But in the meantime, the Shell's become a landmark; a symbol of environmental protection."

"Calling teams Alpha and Bravo," a voice from a radio, not engaging in Campbell and Snake's conversation said. "Deploy at the Big Shell and scheduled."

"Approximately six hours ago, the Big Shell was seized by an armed group," Colonel Campbell informed Snake.

"Do we have an ID?" Snake inquired.

"Former members of the Navy SEAL's special anti-terrorist training squad, 'Dead Cell'. Russian private army members may also be involved. It's a highly trained group and they have the Big Shell under complete control."

The two Black Hawks closed in on the silhouette of a gargantuan structure on the horizon. A man with hi-tech scuba gear (only a pair of flippers and a mask, which covered his entire head, with a rebreather incorporated into it) surfaced in the water and looked up to see the pair of helicopters fly over him. He gazed upon the great structure ahead of him, the Big Shell. Satisfied, he submerged into the water again and continued to progress towards it.

"Come in from downwind, then pull up fast!" The radioman said. "Get ready to fast rope down to Shell One! Five minutes to ETA!" One of the helicopters banked slightly to stop their movement, then hovered over part of the Big Shell. "Alpha, your top priority is to rescue and safeguard the President! Team Bravo, watch Stillman's back and get those C4's disarmed." A rope descended from the door of the aircraft, and Navy SEALs slid down it, onto the Big Shell. The helicopter adjusted its heading, and flew away from the Big Shell. The second helicopter did the same, on the other side of the structure.

The scuba diver, codename Snake, swam toward the oil fence surrounding the Big Shell, as he talked to Colonel Campbell via Codec.

"What are their demands?"

"Thirty billion dollars," Campbell responded.

"Thirty billion dollars? What makes them think they can get that much?" Snake asked, as he drew nearer to the oil fence. He noticed numerous small dead fish in the water.

"There was a government-sponsored tour going on at the Big Shell today."

"Hostages, huh?" Snake said.

"A VIP from one of the major conservation groups, and one from our own government – the Most Important Person, in a sense."

"The most important person?" Snake finally reached the oil fence to find that there was a man-sized hole cut in the metal.

"James Johnson." Snake swam through the hole.

"The President!"

"Unless the demands are met, the terrorists intend to blow the Big Shell out of the water. The crude oil will ignite, turning the Manhattan Harbor into an inferno. But that's not the worst-case scenario. If the chlorides being used to decontaminate the seawater go up in flames with the oil, toxins containing catastrophic levels of dioxins will be released. In other words, the bay's ecosystem will be wiped out, and the sea will turn into a toxic soup for centuries – Becoming the worst environmental disaster in history."

Snake proceeded towards an undersea dock, and entered it. Snake swam up along the wall of the dock and surfaced to find himself in an area filled with various underwater equipment – a small submersible, and two bulky underwater suits.

"You have two mission objectives," Campbell said to Snake, "One: Infiltrate the offshore decontamination facility 'Big Shell' and safeguard the President and the other hostages. Two: Disarm the terrorists by any means necessary. You should know that SEAL Team 10 is also conducting a rescue operation." Snake took his flippers off and tossed them beside him in the water; they sank. He then found a small ladder rising out of the pool he was in, and climbed it.

"Is this a joint effort?" Snake asked the Colonel.

"No. FOXHOUND remains a covert body." Snake looked about the room – it was deserted. He crouched next to a small shelf and listened to Campbell more intensely. "Don't alert them to your presence – That is an order."

"This is Snake. I am now inside Strut A of Shell One."

"How are things?" Campbell asked.

"We're in luck. Looks like there are no sentries posted here."

"What's the visibility?"

"The lights on the plant's struts are functioning. I won't have to use the IR goggles," Snake said, referring to the mask he was wearing.

"Any problems?"

"There was a brand-new hole cut through the oil fence. There's someone else besides me that wanted to get in badly."

"That's not possible," Campbell said, with a note of disbelief in his voice.

"What about SEAL Team 10?"

"They landed on the roof of the Big Shell as planned. And by the way, Snake, we're changing your codename for all following communication."

"What's wrong with 'Snake'?"

"Just a precaution. You are now designated 'Raiden'. All right, Raiden. You've already covered infiltration in VR Training."

"I've completed more than three hundred missions in VR. I feel like some kind of legendary mercenary."

"Okay, we'll skip the review, then. This will be your first sneaking mission. Weapons will naturally have to be procured on-site. Make sure nobody sees you. If you need to, you can contact me by Codec. My frequency is 140.85. When we need to reach you…" Campbell corrected himself, "Contact you, the Codec will beep. The Codec's receiver directly stimulates the small bones of your ear. No one but you will be able to hear it."

"All right. I'll contact you if anything changes," Raiden confirmed.

"Make your way to the upper section of the Big Shell."

"How do I get up to the next level?"

"There should be an elevator at the far end of that area. Use that."

"Sounds good."

"Your new sneaking suit uses electrofiber technology, a by-product of fiber-optics research. The texture isn't far removed from rubber, but the material protects against a wide range of toxic substances. The suit itself has a wide array of built-in sensors. It is referred to as 'Smart Skin' in military R&D. Data about damage to the body, including blood loss, is exchanged between the suit and the intravenous nanomachines to create a feedback system."

"There's a lot of pressure on my torso."

"Relax. The suit applies varying pressure to internal organs to maximize performance and safeguard their functions. They call this the 'Skull Suit' in FOXHOUND."

"Skull Suit – seems appropriate somehow."

"Find that elevator."

"Copy that. Moving on to main mission objectives."

Raiden stood up and moved up a small, four step staircase, avoiding a large gathering of sea lice, small incects. The sea dock was completely infested with them. Raiden made his way towards the only exit out of the dock aside from the water. It was a hatch, with a circular handle. Raiden grabbed it and turned it clockwise, and heard someone grunt a few times in pain on the other side. Raiden hurriedly turned the handle faster, and it finally unlocked. Raiden swung the door open to see a man clad in urban tiger-stripe BDUs crumpled against the corner of the hallway, where it turned. The man got up and grabbed his rifle, shook his head a bit, and walked back into the room in which he came from. Raiden darted back into the sea dock and raised the Colonel on the Codec.

"Colonel, I've sighted an enemy sentry. AN-94 and a Makarov…Those grenades…All his equipment is Russain-made."

"Must be a Gurlukovich man," Campbell said.

"Gurlukovich?"

"A Russian private army that was in line to work with the Shadow Moses takeover group, four years ago."

"What's their stake in this one?"

"They must have a deal – an arrangement with the terrorists. They've become a band of mercenaries; an army without a country." The Colonel cut the Codec connection, and Raiden continued on. He slowly moved down the hallway, careful not to make any noise. A door confronted Raiden as he rounded the corner. As he approached it, it opened automatically. Raiden stepped out and stopped behind a stack of crates. He looked out and saw a figure aboard the freight elevator for a moment as it quickly rose out of view. All Raiden saw was the man's back: long brown hair, and a bandanna. Two guards were sprawled out on the floor, knocked unconscious. Raiden crouched, and called the Colonel.

"Colonel, there's definitely another intruder in here besides me."

"That's not a possibility," Campbell said.

"Not a team – Looks like a solo job."

"One man..?"

"We man not know who he is, but he managed to take care of every sentry in the area; they're all out cold. Whoever he is, he's got some skills."

"We need to get an ID. But for now, you can take advantage of he situation and get to work."

"Wait, how do I save my mission data?"

"I've set up a proprietary frequency for data input. And an analyst to work on the data, too."

"Jack, is everything alright?" A concerned woman's voice replaced Campbell's. Raiden recognized the voice.

"What are you doing here?" Raiden exclaimed.

"Jack, can you hear me?" The woman said.

"Rose! You're not supposed to be involved! What's going on?"

"Jack, I'm a part of this mission."

"Colonel, what the hell is going on?"

"Raiden, meet the mission analyst. She'll be overseeing the data saving and support," Campbell said.

"Why her?" Raiden asked.

"The FOXHOUND analyst that was supposed to take part in this mission was in an accident. Rosemary was brought in as a replacement."

"An accident?"

"And according to the files, she knows you better than anyone else."

"Rose may be in the service, but an intelligence analyst is no field officer."

"Not to worry. She has our technical staff at her disposal."

"She's never been a part of a field mission. This is insane."

"I have my own reasons for selecting her for this mission, soldier."

"Colonel, I fail to see –"

"I know your VR training performance in and out. But sometimes that's not enough. You're familiar with the Shadow Moses incident?"

"You know I covered it in VR."

"If there's a crucial tactical detail that case taught us, it was the power of the operative's will to survive."

"I was trained to fight. My personal feelings have no place in a mission."

"We've learned that it doesn't work that way. And in the field, you need all the help you can get."

"Jack? You're stuck with me, whether you like it or not," Rose stated.

"Rose…" Raiden pleaded.

"You need someone to watch your back. But— I have conditions that need to be met, Colonel."

"What is it?" Campbell asked, slightly annoyed.

"I'll perform my duties and save that mission data. But I'm aware that technically, I'm not part of the mission control team. After all, I'm just a normal girl who's worried about Jack. But that means, Colonel, that I am not required to follow your orders outside of my immediate duties. Jack is not simply a field personnel for me to track. His safety comes first to me, not the mission. And because of that, I will be monitoring, and keeping a record of every communication you have with him, Colonel."

"Given the circumstances, you're free to do what you see fit."

"Hey, I prefer this to being kept in the dark, waiting," Rose said to Raiden.

"I'd like to make one request, if I may," Campbell said.

"Of course."

"His handle is Raiden. For the duration of the mission, could you call him that?"

"Yes, sir," Rose said to the Colonel. Rose turned her attention to Raiden. "All right, Raiden. Let me know when you're ready to turn in a save. The proprietary save frequency is 140.96." Raiden and Rose switched to that frequency, so the Colonel would be left out.

"I just switched frequencies. Jack?"

"What?"

"Do you know what day it is tomorrow?" Rose softly, caringly asked.

"April 30th – Is there something special about it?"

"Isn't there?"

"I can't remember. I'm sorry."

"Oh well. I'll keep trying until I hear the answer. I'm going to let you go now, Jack. Take care." Rose cut the connection. Raiden moved closer to the elevator, keeping watch on the two unconscious guards on the floor. He pressed the button to call the elevator, and shortly thereafter, the elevator came back down. Raiden stepped onto the freight elevator, and it began to rise. The open elevator platform continually rose, until it finally breached the long tunnel it was in, and rose above the surface of the ocean. The open elevator platform revealed the sun rising over the ocean to the East, casting the ocean and the Big Shell in beautiful hues of gold. Raiden turned, and began to undo straps on his mask to take it off. Raiden pulled the diving mask off to reveal a clean-shaven effeminate face, with long beach blond hair. Raiden cast the helmet into the ocean through the open girders and support cables. Campbell made contact with Raiden as the elevator kept rising.

"The terrorists call themselves 'Sons of Liberty'."

"Sons of Liberty?"

"The name of their leader is Solid Snake."

"The hero of Shadow Moses? So that's why you changed my codename." The elevator reached the roof of Strut A, scaring off seagulls behind Raiden.

"Right. But he can't be THE Solid Snake. He died, two years ago, on that tanker…after he blew it sky-high."

"Could he have survived?" Raiden asked, as he looked about the roof. No guards. He ducked down behind one of the stacks of metal crates on the roof.

"Not a chance," the Colonel dispelled any doubt.