Author's Note: Sorry to have kept you loyal fans waiting for so long, but things have been very hectic in my life. I've now found the time to sit down and write a new chapter for my fic. Well, here it is, so enjoy!

Chapter 17: Phosphorescence

Tension started to heat up the cabin like fresh wood to the fire; as the jet came nearer and nearer to its destination. Lynn could see it in everyone's face. The music had stopped playing over the intercom, Jack had a slightly grim look on his face, and Lynn noticed a slight nervous shiver in Andrea.

Lynn had to admit, she was feeling a little nervous as well. Not because of the imminent danger they would all soon be in, but because of the sheer importance of their mission. Lynn had done missions many a time before, but they usually weren't on such a large scale. She was prepared for it, of course. She would sacrifice her and her teammate's lives if need be… but she felt a strange pang of emotion when she thought of Andrea being sacrificed.

No, Lynn told herself, no one would be sacrificed, not if their plan went off without a hitch.

Snake sat leaning forward, his hands clasped together and a firm look on his face. Lynn sized him up; he had been fighting a lot longer than her, and was not in danger of breaking. Otacon, though not trained in combat, was an invaluable asset, and would ensure they got into the facility without a hitch. The babysitting was well worth the trade-off. Jack, though Lynn didn't know him, she decided that he could be relied on; Snake seemed to think he was up to the task.

Andrea, though, was a potential liability. She had only a few weeks of training, and although she had learned at a considerable pace, the nervous quivering was not a good sign. Though, the girl had shown high amounts of loyalty to Lynn, which seemed to lower the risk factor.

"ETA ten minutes," Otacon said over the intercom; breaking the silence that had formed a shroud. The announcement seemed to drive the point home to the passengers, and immediately they all began checking their equipment and making sure everything was where it was supposed to be.

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Peterson laid on his stomach, the cold snow scrunched under his combat suit. He was at the precipice of a rather large snow drift, about a mile away from the Complex. All was silent, except for a slight wind that howled over nearby drifts, blowing white curls around Peterson.

Peterson took no notice of this; he had his binoculars up to his eyes. He was expressly interested in the single guard who stood nonchalantly at a side entrance. He stood wedged in the doorway, massaging his arms. Poor bastard must be cold, Peterson thought. No matter. He'll warm up in hell quick enough. Peterson suddenly felt the large sniper rifle tapered to his back press in, like it was crying out to be used. Peterson suppressed a smile as he thought about his directive.

Slowly, as to not attract attention of the lone guard, Peterson crawled slowly over the top of the snow mound. His rifle and his outfit were nicely camouflaged with the snow, so he had to be careful that his movements didn't give him away. He snaked around smaller drifts, as he came to the border of the asphalt plane that surrounded the whole facility. Slowly, he pulled the rifle off his back, and shouldered it. He looked through the scope, suddenly making the guard's head quite large and clear. Making sure the centre crosshairs maintained contact with the guards head, Peterson's finger slowly tightened around the trigger. Then, suddenly, his finger twitched in, and there was a muffled thump as a dart streamlined through the snowy wind and made a nice entrance into the guard's neck. The guard clutched at his neck, but was already dead and falling before he reached it.

Using Potassium Cyanide darts rather than Narq darts or real bullets was something Peterson had decided on his own. He wanted the guards down and permanently silenced, but without the inconvenience of blood staining the area. It was a quick death for the targets, and was clean, or at least until an autopsy was performed. By then, Peterson would be long gone.

Quickly, like a shadow against a shadow, Peterson made a mad dash across the asphalt to the downed guard. He picked him up and dragged him back towards the snow. Up and over a snow drift, Peterson dropped him a lull and proceeded to cover him with snow.

The guard out of the way, Peterson was now left with a ticket into the facility.

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Ralph, or Raphael, as he liked to be called, was aggravated as a second unscheduled contact made its appearance on his radar. The first had appeared for a few seconds, then bugged out into the higher parts of the stratosphere. The signature had been identified as belonging to the Canadian Air Force; probably doing a routine flyby.

However, the second contact on his radar was intriguing enough to make Raphael put down his Playboy magazine. It was on a course straight for the runway, no doubt about it. He checked his schedule, to double check and see if the flight was listed. He was sure it wasn't, as Ralph made it his business to know inbound and outbound flight times by heart.

But this flight was listed, and he could've sworn it wasn't the last time he checked it earlier that morning. Suspicious, he opened up a frequency to the jet.

"Flight 557, you are on an inbound trajectory for Forrester Complex's runway, do you copy?" Ralph spoke into the mike. There was a few seconds of silence, then a reply came.

"Roger that, we have a scheduled landing," came a disgruntled voice.

"What is your identification code?" Raphael asked, a sneaking suspicion rising in his chest. There was a full minute of silence. "I repeat, what is your identification code?"

More silence.

"Ms. Forrester," Ralph said into the personal frequency, "we have a problem." More contacts appeared on the Radar, on the fringes. "A really big problem."

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"How was I supposed to know there was an identification code!" Otacon exclaimed to Snake, who had come into the cockpit. They had just started their descent.

"Should we abort?" Jack asked from the doorway that separated the cockpit from the cabin.

Snake was just about to answer, when something on the radar caught his eye.

"That's not good," Snake growled, pointing out the several dots that were approaching from west and east.

"Oh dear," Otacon sighed. He keyed the intercom. "Buckle up, kiddies! We got caught with our hand in the cookie jar!" Listening to his own advice, Otacon strapped himself in his seat. "Strap in, Snake," Otacon said, his voice quavering, as a beeping noise sounded from the control panel. Otacon's face went white.

"What now?" Snake asked, strapping in the co-pilot's seat.

"We've been locked on to," Otacon said, still ashen faced. He jerked the controls, and the jet started to climb.

"What's going on?" Lynn asked over the radio.

"Enemies, and they've got a radar lock," Otacon yelled as G forces pulled him into his seat. "They're -- Oh Jesus, they fired missiles!"

The jet suddenly became a laundry machine, as the cabin rolled around. "Shit!" Otacon cried, "I can't shake them! The missiles are going to hit!"

The last few seconds seemed to be an eternity, as Lynn took in the situation: Andrea was screaming with her arms around Lynn, Jack was braced in the cockpit doorway, and Lynn was holding on to the ceiling brace.

Then, hell struck.

A thunderous explosion rocked the plane, and ripped a hole in the back of the jet. Everything that wasn't secured flew out the hole, as the cabin suddenly became like a hurricane. Jack had instantly closed the door and shut himself in the cockpit, to prevent his unsecured body from getting sucked out.

"Girls!" Otacon's voice shrieked, as the jet lurched around as it started to rapidly drop altitude. "You still there?"

"Affirmative!" Lynn yelled, both over the intense hurricane environment and Andrea in hysteria. They were pulled against their restraints, but they were holding them down securely. "Can we still land this thing?"

"I… I don't know!" Otacon replied, as Lynn's eyes watered from the immense wind. Andrenaline was coursing through Lynn's veins as the jet plummeted.

"What hit us, anyway?" Snake grunted over the radio. "It couldn't have been them… there's no way they could respond in that short amount of time!"

"Maybe we're not the only ones after Metal Gear tonight!" Jack replied.

"You don't know how many times I've heard that," Snake muttered over the radio.

"Do we stay in this bucket, or ditch?" Jack asked.

"No 'chutes," Otacon replied exasperatedly. "We're going to have to ride this can straight into hell."

"Did I tell you I hate flying?" Jack whined.

"ANOTHER MISSILE! BRACE YOURSELVES!" Otacon yelled. Lynn feld Andreas' grip tighten.

Everything went black.

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Lynn found herself in Uganda, back when she was little. She was eight at the time; and Uganda was in the height of the local war. Peterson had sent her to bring some ammo to the local guerilla fighters. It had been raining hard that day, and her small feet sunk in the deep mud with every pounding footstep she made. Covered in mud up to her chest, her white skin completely encrusted. She was about as dark as everyone else she was with.

The man she had delivered the ammo to, a tough looking and high ranking soldier, had come tearing out of the bushes with his comrades, shouting 'RUN!' in his foreign tongue. Lynn had ran, and kept running. The soldiers dropped around her, as a hail of bullets strobed through the thick rain. Lynn kept running, and running.

She ended up coming upon a village….

But every one in it had been slaughtered. Women, children, the disabled…every one. Lynn had stopped, surveying the scene, a sickening feeling stirring in her. They were only corpses, Lynn knew that, but she couldn't help but feel utterly repulsed at the semi-decayed bodies, of people who had been brutally killed by a ruthless enemy…

Lynn no longer cared about who was chasing her. It seemed that right there, at that moment, was hell. Not hot and fiery, but a muggy, soaking wet hell. Lynn threw up, her stomach's contents mixing with the mud. She fell to her knees, devoid of strength. Tears stained her eyes, despite how much she tried to resist them. Her vision blurred, and she heard squishing footsteps and shouts behind her. A shot fired, and Lynn felt something hot and hard penetrate her lower back, and she toppled into the mud, face first. A pain like nothing ever before spread through her, and the wet, green jungle seemed to start losing focus. She could hear someone calling her name…. a girl, with a worried and soft voice, like she was far away and yelling down a tunnel. Lynn knew she was dying… the mud seemed to be nudging her shoulder, but she could no longer feel it…..

"--Lynn!" Andrea's voice shrieked. Lynn snapped to, a hand snapping to her lower back, where a scar she received long ago was burning. Eyes full of moisture, it took her a moment to remember where she was--

--and realized the plane was no longer airborne. Dangling limply in her harness, Lynn realized the plane was pointing downwards at a 45 degree angle. Lynn's vision returned to her, and so did an immense wave of pain from her left leg. Looking over, she saw a jagged piece of the chair next to her stuck in her leg, hidden from view from the rest of the team.

Lynn banished the pain, and still half-unconscious, haphazardly tried to undo her harness.

"She's okay!" Andrea announced, relief dominating her voice. She fumbled with Lynn's harness, and Lynn toppled out and into Andrea, who was supporting herself on the previous row of seats.

"You took a hit to the head," Snake explained through Lynn's haze. Lynn freed herself from Andrea's gentle grasp and tried to stand on the half-vertical floor. She stumbled, but caught herself on a seat. She heard Andrea gasp.

Lynn felt her leg for the piece of metal, and tugged it out, ignoring the small spurt of blood that issued from the wound. Andrea was on it in an instant. She cut a small portion of Lynn's suit away around the wound, where she then proceeded to clean it and bandage it. She looked like she was going to throw up the whole time. She stood up.

"Are y-you okay?" Andrea asked. Lynn remained silent, because her stomach was threatening to heave from her injuries. Andrea hugged Lynn lightly. "You had me worried…"

"Is there any fatalities?" Lynn asked.

"No, I think you got the worst of it," Snake replied. He looked slightly ruffled and had a hell of a lot of scratches--and a bruise above his left eye.

"How close are we….to the facility?" Lynn inquired.

"Couple miles," Snake guessed. "We're going to hump it the rest of the way there." He turned and left through a gaping hole, landing with a soft thud on the snow outside. Now it was just Lynn and Andrea left in the jet.

"Lynn…." Andrea said, a worried expression on her scratched face.

"What?" Lynn replied, still feeling the scar on her lower back.

"No one else saw but…. You had tears coming out of your eyes," Andrea whispered softly. "You were crying before you woke up…."

She had been, and Lynn wasn't going to deny it. Especially with the sincere tone in the girl's voice. Lynn half expected her to ask what she had been crying about, but the girl stayed silent.

Lynn herself didn't know why she had cried either… but the dream had brought the memory of Uganda ten years ago back to her, refreshed and burning. She still had remnants of the sickening feeling in her gut… but from what? She had received no abdominal injuries…Could it have been remnants from the dream?

But why, of all things, did she have that memory come back to her? At that time and place, as well? She had almost forgotten her time in Uganda. But for some reason, here she was, the events of that horrible time bright as day.

Lynn looked into Andrea's eyes, who was looking back with a worried expression. Was it because of her? Was it because of Andrea that Lynn had remembered that village? Lynn couldn't clear her mind of that haunting picture, of half-decayed bodies staring upwards…

Lynn suddenly felt more removed from society than she ever had. She almost cringed as Andrea gingerly laid a hand on Lynn's shoulder. Andrea noticed the slight flinch, and she drew her hand back, looking offended. Lynn made no excuse, she just sat there, looking downwards to the front of the plane.

Lynn suddenly felt Andrea wrap her arms around Lynn's head. Lynn didn't move, the embrace nudging the memory of Uganda out of her head. It shattered the feeling of separation from society, and Lynn knew, at that moment, that Andrea would do anything for her, even sacrifice herself if needed. She suddenly understood that Andrea derived courage from her will to protect Lynn. Warmth from Andrea's body made the scar's heat dissipate. The pain from her leg seemed to disappear too… it was like the girl's mere touch was healing her. She reached upwards, not knowing what she was going to do--

--when suddenly, the two girls were surrounded by men. Men with guns. All pointed at Lynn and Andrea. Streaming through the holes in the plane, Lynn rose up, but realized that they did't stand a chance, especially with Lynn still dizzy and disoriented. Andrea whimpered and fell onto the floor, sliding a couple feet before Lynn caught her.

"Where's the others?" one of the soldiers asked.

"Blown out and killed by the missile," Lynn lied. The others must've escaped, but this presented an opportunity for Snake and the rest to infiltrate, believed to be dead….but at the sacrifice of Lynn and Andrea.

Well, I hope the new chapters given you a lot to think about!! Give me rave reviews if you like how the story's developing… This is my best story ever!!!