Author's Note: I cannot believe the amount of response I am getting because of this story. Thank you so much, wonderful readers. It really does keep me motivating to write more and more. After going back and re-reading my first two chapters, there are a number of grammatical errors that I plan on rectifying. In any case, here's chapter 2, I hope you all enjoy it! I use a lot of military lingo, terminology and acronyms in this chapter. If you need to know what they mean, just simply ask.
Italics indicate a time jump
Disclaimer: Metal Gear Solid is property of Hideo Kojima and Konoami. This story was created solely for personal enjoyment and no profits are being made.
IXIXIXIXIXIX
…2 months later…
"Nepal?" Meryl asked, shaking her head. She'd heard of some strange locations for black ops bases, but Nepal was a new one. However, the similarities to Shadow Moses were striking. A virtually unknown facility located in a rugged, scarcely inhabited, mountainous region did logically serve as a black ops base.
"Yes. An unknown organization has taken root in the Himalayas, Annapurna to be exact. Current intelligence claims that they are being funded by an unknown massive black market organization. Our reports indicate that they are developing a new brand of nuclear weapons. Weapons that can be fired from a bi-pedal tank ," relayed Roy Campbell. Meryl's uncle, though still officially retired, still dabbled here and there in the Army community. Meryl couldn't help but notice that her uncle's office was in a state of disarray, something most unusual for the tedious and meticulous Colonel Campbell.
"A new Metal Gear…" Meryl trailed off. So that explained why she had been pulled from her post on active duty with virtually no advanced warning. "But why am I here? Wouldn't the Army send in a special ops team to deal with this?" A million questions were firing in her brain simultaneously.
"With your prior…experience…for want of a better term, at Shadow Moses, the Secretary of Defense wants someone with prior involvement in this type of mission," Campbell's expression darkened. To the untrained eye, the Colonel's expression remained solemn and profession, but Meryl could read her uncle like an open book. He did not support this mission, nor her involvement. In all earnest, the prospect of another Shadow Moses was the last endeavor she wanted to partake in, but orders were orders. A steadfast soldier never question their orders. Roy Campbell's fists were tightly clenched, shaking slightly on his solid oak desk. A wave of compassion for her uncle washed over Meryl as she reached out to console her uncle.
"I'm a soldier, uncle. You can depend of me. I promise, I won't let you down," Meryl smiled softly. "I made it out once before, I can do it again." Her pulse raced like a jackrabbit. This was her opportunity, the proverbial golden ticket, to escape the confines of being a desk jockey. Her chance at redemption. If she pulled this off, her career in the Army would ricochet in to orbit. Shadow Moses would be nothing but a meaningless blip on her record, a temporary setback to an otherwise illustrious and decorated enlistment. "Do we know for sure if this is a new prototype of Metal Gear?"
Roy gazed up at the young woman before him. "No, we don't. Intel was very vague in their reports, mostly due to the amount of secrecy of the ops tempo at this base. You have seen Metal Gear, you know it's capabilities, and since Snake is dead, you are the only person with any prior exposure to Metal Gear. You understand its capabilities, as well as the risk."
Meryl shifted uncomfortably at the mention of Snake's name, using every ounce of self control to contain her emotions. Two months ago Solid Snake had died in a terrorist attack against a Marine Corp tanker. Of course she did not believe the reports that Snake had turned into a rogue terrorist, attacking the government on a whim with no rhyme or reason. She spent hours pouring over reports of the Discovery's sinking, searching for some hint, the tiniest glimpse that Snake was alive. But nothing. Meryl managed to get a hold of the autopsy report on the body recovered from Hudson Bay. The DNA analysis didn't lie. It was an exact match.
Solid Snake was dead.
The morning Campbell broke the news to her, not a single piece of furniture in her apartment was spared from her fury. Never before had Meryl broken out in a fit of rage; in a matter of moments, every dish, chair, and breakable object in her home was lied in pieces on the floor. Blinded my anger, Meryl lacked the cognizance of her actions. The tears didn't fall until Roy departed later on in the afternoon. Stubborn as a bull, Meryl would not let her uncle see her cry. Huddled in a ball on the floor, she cried with such fervidity as she never had before. When Snake left her, she took it like an adult. No tantrums, no tears, picking up with her life, no matter how difficult, and moving on with the best of her ability. Yes, he broke her heart into a thousand tiny shards, abandoning her without even a farewell. But he was at least alive. The green rookie inside clung desperately to the hope that they would meet again. She dedicated her training, the return to the Army, everything in the naive belief that they would meet again. No…she would never see him again. Never bask in the warmth of his embrace, never feel his lips on hers.
During her months at Fort Myer, Meryl accumulated a weeks worth of leave, which she burned through the next week, all of which were spent barricaded in her apartment. More then once her uncle dared a visit, but to no avail. She refused to answer the door, and ignored every attempt to contact her on the phone. On one occasion, Roy had even bribed a fellow member of her platoon to check on her, an clumsy oaf named Johnny Sasaki. The poor man was met with a shower of curses that would make a sailor blush.
Aside from cleaning up the mess she made in her home, Meryl spent that week pouring over every detail of the precious time they spent together. Twin Lakes, Alaska was ruggedly beautiful, from the awe-inspiring pine trees that towered overhead, to the pristine crystalline brooks lining the outskirts of Snake's cabin. Evening was a stargazer's paradise; never before had Meryl witnessed so many stars, or the aurora borealis.
Try as she may, Meryl did not understand why Snake left. Why? Why? Why?!
She pondered that question thousands of times. He even professed to love her, promising never to bring her harm. Leaving scarred her far more then any of the torture she survived on Shadow Moses. 'Except…' she trailed mentally to herself. But Meryl had never shared that secret with anyone. In fact, she had gone out on a limb keeping that dark moment in her life completely shrouded in secrecy. Snake had asked her many times, demanding an answer from her, but not once did she sway from her story. She knew that Snake suspected, as did her uncle, but she was bound and determined to detain that secret in the confines of her mind.
In the span of just a couple of weeks, Snake and Meryl's relationship unraveled like ball of yarn. She didn't understand where she went wrong. Snake didn't say so much as a word, but at the drop of a hat he became dark and distant. Meryl was keenly aware that Solid Snake did drink heavily on occasion, especially late at night, however, those times were far and few between. With his sordid past, she hardly blamed him. All of that changed on a whim, and for no explainable reason. Every evening he'd stumble to bed with scotch on his breath. Snake wasn't exactly a nice drunk either. His mood swung like a pendulum, witty one moment and ornery the next. Despite her advances, he refused to touch her; their sex life dwindled away into nothing.
Had she said something? Done some unforgivable act? Nothing made sense until one morning she woke and he was gone. His clothes, guns, and even the pack of Moslems he kept hidden in his sock drawer vanished without a trace.
"This is a copy of your orders," Campbell said, offering her another small manila envelope with the words "TOP SECRET" written across its face. Meryl took them without hesitation, and proceeded to peel away the seal. Taking several moments to translate the heavily padded military bravado, she raised her eyebrows in confusion.
"Undercover?" she questioned. She was to assume the identity of a female security guard, a newly transferred rookie fresh from the Academy. Meryl couldn't help but chuckle at the irony.
"Yes. Your undercover name and backstory are listed below. Memorize them and stick to your story! You are not to engage in any combat, just relay information to the U.S. government. Before you are sent to your location, you will be issued a new codec so you can communicate with us at any time. If there is a new prototype of Metal Gear being developed, you are not to do anything! A team of reinforcements will be deployed to take it out," the Colonel relayed. "You have two weeks to out process and report to the base in Nepal."
Meryl nodded in understanding. 'This is my chance,' she thought to herself. A wave of determination washed over her, as she turned on her heels out of her uncle's office and onwards to a new mission.
Three weeks later…
The entirety of Nepal could be summed up in one word. Cold. Wrapped from head to toe in arctic survival gear, Meryl still couldn't resist the subzero shiver that ran down her spine. At the moment she was on her last leg of a twelve hour guard shift. Her partner, a native Columbian, was fast asleep in a metallic folding chair. His name was Miguel Guerrero and volunteered to work in Nepal to support his family back in Bogota. In fact, Meryl quickly surmised that most of the soldiers contracted to work in Annapurna were honest people with a military background, providing for their families back in their native war-torn countries, the complete opposite of the Genome Soldiers in Alaska.
She and Miguel were assigned to patrol the interior entrance to one of the maintenance hangers. Just what occupied the hanger was a complete mystery to her, and everyone else assigned to the post. Scientist in white lab coats and well-dressed men were the only personnel authorized inside the building. Meryl had a sneaking suspicion that what lay inside that hanger was the key to her mission. Despite being spared the bitter winter air outside, her post was heated with only a single space heater that she and Miguel took turns defrosting their appendages. It was Miguel's turn, the heat luring him into a calm sleep.
Meryl was not the only woman at the base, but she was the only only solider assigned to guard duty. The others worked as laboratory assistants, secretaries, and maintenance equipment advisors. More then once, she was grateful for the Desert Eagle she kept strapped to her inner thigh, hidden away beneath layers of bulky clothing. Sure, she had a service firearm, a basic M-4 loaded with frangible .556 ammunition, but her .50 caliber was the secondary assurance she needed to feel safe. Not all of the soldiers were as respectful as Miguel; most hadn't experienced close contact with a female for months on end. Her first partner, a man known only as Sal, made several unwanted advances at her, cornering her alone during in the middle of their duty shift. Currently, Sal was still in the medical ward for two broken ribs and a .50 hollow point bullet lodged in his shoulder. Meryl thanked her lucky stars for the hours of combat training Snake had taught her.
The watch on her wrist read 0530. Only 30 more minutes until day shift would relieve them. Attempting to be as gently as possible, Meryl shook Miguel's shoulder. He woke with a startled expression until realization of the time hit him. "Thank you for letting me catch up on some sleep," Miguel said. His voice was heavy with a Columbian accent, but his English was very well rounded.
"No problem. Didn't want the new shift to see you sleeping on the job," Meryl replied.
"You're more then welcome to sit down, enjoy the heat for a while," he said, pointing to the space heater aimed at the tiny chair.
"No thanks. I'll wait till I get some food in me before I go to sleep," she retorted. Truth be told, she did not trust any man to be near her while her guard was down. Not after Shadow Moses.
The pair paced to and fro, waiting impatiently for the next shift to show up. Upon a closer examination, Miguel was a handsome man. Young, around the same age as her, with bronzed skin and thick black hair. She wasn't sure if it was psychotherapy she received when she was younger, or the pair of icy blue eyes she had grown to love, but Meryl paid Miguel's good looks little heed. Even before Shadow Moses, she had very little interest in the opposite gender, most of them proved to be nothing more then immature and arrogant rookies with no tangible accomplishments or ambition.
The slow creak of the heavy iron door triggered a wave of satisfaction across Meryl's face. Their replacements, Nguyen and Sanderson, slowly trudged their way into the tiny room. She was familiar with both of them, knew very little of their origins or experience. Both wore an aura of doom and gloomy. Meryl preferred to keep the pair at arm's length. After all her experiences, the one lesson she learned was to trust her instincts. "Is there anything we need to know before we leave?" Sanderson inquired.
Shaking her head, Meryl replied. "Nope. It was a normal shift, nothing new to report. Are we good to leave?"
Sanderson nodded solemnly. That was all the word she needed. Strapping her M-4 across her shoulder, Meryl quickly left, with Miguel in tow. First stop was the armory, and second was bed. "Want to come with me to the DFAC?" Miguel asked. Truth be told, she wasn't hungry, and intended to bypass the chow hall entirely in lieu of a warm blanket and the promise of a full eight hour's sleep.
"No thanks, I just want to be left alone. It's been a long night, I don't want to take out my bad mood on you," Meryl said, gently turning him down.
" M'kay. See you tomorrow night at guard mount. Take care, Neeve," Miguel answered, darting off in the direction of the dining facility.
Drew Neeve. That was her assumed identity. It took a couple days to become fully responsive to the name, but now she was more comfortable with her alias then her own name.
From the entrance to the maintenance hangers, there was a single linear corridor connecting them to the rest of the base. Ceiling, floors and walls were all wrought from thick industrial concrete that seemed to amplify the cold air. Painted white, the walls were eerily silent, no matter the time of day. The soft tap of her combat boots on the ground echoed louder then any gunshot. Meryl always felt uneasy in that hallway, placing her hand on her side arm, and peering over her shoulder.
Situated at the end of the corridor was the central armory. At the beginning and end of each shift, Meryl, would check in and out her M-4. Officially she was not permitted to conceal carry her Desert Eagle, but she didn't care. Every woman in the facility was armed, both on and off duty, with a weapon strapped to their thigh or shoved in a hidden holster between their cleavage. Being surrounded by a sea of men, most of whom had been separated from any long term female contact was enough to make any woman, even Meryl, uncomfortable. In many ways, Meryl felt pitied the other women working in Annapurna, all of whom fitted the mold of a young, attractive, seemingly naive female, none of them were cut out for such a hostile environment, even if it was just a research base. Whenever Meryl passed another woman walking alone at night, she would escort them to their destination, glaring menacing looks at her male counterparts. After her encounter in with Sal, Meryl proved that she was no one to be trifled with.
Approaching the armory, Meryl unstrapped her M-4, inserting the business end of her weapon into a clearing barrel. After dropping the loaded magazine, she locked the slide to the rear and cleared the empty chamber. Releasing the slide forward, she placed her weapon on safe, and handed if off to the armory official. "Long night?" he commented on her dreary expression.
"Just like any other. All I want is to go to bed," she vented.
"I see. Well, you're all clear. See you tomorrow night," the official waved her on. Meryl nodded, walking off towards the barracks. In any other military base, the barracks she would have shared a room with another female, but here, she was allotted an entire room to herself. It was one of the few luxuries she had out in this remote snowy wasteland. The female rooms were located close to the armory. Reaching into her uniform, Meryl pulled out the small identification card needed to swipe into the female dormitories.
Several minutes later, Meryl found herself alone in a tiny room with a pair of bunk beds situated in the northern most corner. She had claimed the top bunk as her sleeping space, and the bottom bunk as a makeshift storage spot for her uniforms. In the opposite corner was a small oak desk, most likely for stationary supplies or other trinkets her fellow soldiers brought from home. Thankfully her room was equipped with central heat, and Meryl quickly found herself boiling hot inside all her thick insulated gear. First she stripped off her parka, then her service top, and finally the three layers of cold-weather survival thermals, until she was in nothing but a black sports bra and a tight pair of spandex shorts. She also removed her thigh holster that held her Desert Eagle, placing her gun on the bottom bunk. Around her neck was a pair of dog tags, dangling in the valley between her breasts. Odd that she should wear a pair of dog tags with a false name on them, but the cold metallic against her neck was a familiar sensation and she choose to keep them on.
Inside her room was the only place for absolute privacy, and that was where Meryl would report via Codec to her superiors, who were taking up residence in a remote village about twenty kilometers to the west of the base. Tapping on the base of her ear, she waited to hear the familiar tone of the outgoing call signal.
"This is Odyssey," chimed a thick burly male voice. It was her mission commander and she knew him only as his call sign, Odyssey. The signal from Annapurna to the village was terrible, and instead of a clear visual on her commander, Meryl saw only static.
"Sir, just reporting before I call it a day. So far, I haven't been able to find any details on what's being built on that hanger. If it is Metal Gear, then I would assume that's where it would be hidden," Meryl relayed.
"Are there any indications that this is a new Metal Gear?"
"Yes, sir. The word going around the soldiers supports the theory. A 'giant mechanical weapon that walks upright' to be exact," she quoted. Never having paid much attention to gossip while she as assigned to Alaska, Meryl found herself listening intently to every conversation going on around her. Even the biggest falsehood originated from the truth.
"Alright soldier. We'll expect another report in 24 hours," the Codec clicked off, and her small room was filled with a pregnant silence.
Meryl approached the oak desk and reached into one of the drawers, pulling out a small MRE that she smuggled from the chow hall. Instead of desk for its indented purpose, she had been sneaking extra meals out of the kitchen to eat in her room on those days when she sought solitude from the rowdy crowd in the dining facility. She examined the flavor of her makeshift meal. Beef stew. Not her favorite, but at least it wasn't the breakfast omelette. Tearing open the bag, she methodically ate her meal in silence. Once finished, she discarded the remaining trash in a tiny garbage receptacle at the end of her bed.
With a long, drawn out yawn, Meryl climbed the railing to the top bunk and slipped beneath the thick down covers. Pulling them up to her chin, she sighed heavily, letting her eyes slowly close. Although she was physically exhausted from the long shift, Meryl suffered from frequent insomnia. Sitting up, she rummaged under her pillow for a few seconds before pulling out what she was looking for. In her hands was a photograph. In the picture was herself, smiling widely from ear to hear, with Snake's arm wrapped firmly around her waist, drawing her in close.
Gazing deeply at the picture, Meryl remembered the day that photo had been taken. Snake had woken her up particularly early that day, embarking out on a mushing trip with his team of huskies. The day long trip was a memorable experience. She could still feel the crisp spring Alaskan air flush her cheeks pink as the pair darted in and out of an endless sea of spruce and pine trees. It had snowed lightly the night before, and the ground was covered by a light white film that sparkled in direct sunlight. After several hours of hard riding, Snake arrived at his destination, a small thicket in the forest, seemingly no different then anywhere else. She had asked why they were there, to which Snake replied, just wait. The sun set shortly after their arrival, and before long Snake told her to look up. The aurora borealis filled the sky with shades of green, yellow and pink dancing in ripples across the evening stars. Meryl remembered grinning like a giddy school girl, hardly believing her eyes. So focused on the evening display, she didn't notice Snake sneak up behind her and whisper in her ear, "I love you."
Meryl smiled, curling up in her sheets. That had been the happiest day of her life. What happened to those days? Why did they have to change?
With happy thoughts swirling in her mind, Meryl drifted off into a dreamless slumber.
IXIXIX
I hope you wonder readers enjoyed this chapter. Thank you for reading and as always, please review.