CHAPTER 5
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Wow, this is really long. I'm surprised I managed to get this much done. I guess you could count this as almost two chapters, but I really wanted this to all go on at once.
And I'm sorry, but it looks like I'm gonna be taking a few weeks to a month before uploading again. I have a load of crap to work out in a short amount of time and it isn't much fun.
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FIRST EARTH
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"Your mission has changed," Otacon said. "Free the hostages. But you must damage those Metal Gear. Just enough to keep them from being shipped out. Find the Alpha Team. They'll know what to do."
"Ok…I gulped.
"The helicopter should be arriving shortly for Fulton Recovery subjects."
"All right…" I turned to the soldiers with me. "You guys ready?"
"As ready as I'll ever be," was the reply.
"Great…then let's go."
"Who put you in charge?" the new medic chuckled, but it was a nervous laugh. Despite his words, he followed me as I located the stairway. It was made of concrete, from the steps to a small wall that I assumed came up to my middle or so. It was perfect for firing over and ducking back down if the need arose. I holstered my M1911A1 and focused with the EZ. I followed the closest guard's walking pattern and aimed slightly ahead of where I intended to hit him; his shoulder. I fired with a thwhip.
Direct hit. I wanted to pump my fists in the air and cheer. The guard stumbled and fell, unfortunately falling across some hostages' legs. I took aim again and fired on another guard.
By this time, the other soldiers were doing the same at various points on the stairway. We were out in the open, but in the shadows. Our dark olive uniforms offered slight protection from enemy eyes, but not enough to conceal us forever. Our main goal was to remain hidden as long as possible. We hit three before the others realized their comrades were being struck down, three more before they realized where the hits were coming from.
"I didn't think this far ahead." I admitted nervously as bullets began clanging off the wall behind me.
"We have to go out there and take them out before the hostages are dragged into this," the medic said. "What's your name, kid?"
"Mouse," I cringed as dust rained down on us.
"I'm Gadget. The other two with us are Lead and Mask. No one told you who we were…?" he shook his head. "It doesn't matter now. I need you to stay behind here and pick off any guards that come through that elevator. We'll deal with the rest. Got it?"
"Got it." I clutched my EZ and aimed it at the door.
"No matter what you hear, don't come around the staircase. We want them to think there are only three of us." Gadget motioned to the other two soldiers. "Maybe you can get out of this alive. Maybe not. Either way, it ain't gonna be pretty." He drew both weapons and motioned for Lead and Mask to follow. "Let's kick some ass!"
They quickly filed off the staircase, leaving me to glance back between the elevator and the bottom of the stairs. My hands were shaking again. My breath was coming in short gasps. My brief moment of bravery was over and gone.
"Bobby…Bobby listen to me…" Otacon said. "You need to relax. You won't help anyone if you get disposed of."
"I'm in the middle of a damn gunfight!" I nearly shouted over the bullets' sound.
" 'Tension is who you think you should be. Relaxation is who you are.'"
"What the hell does that mean?!" The elevator doors were opening again…!
"It's a Chinese proverb. You think you should be tensed, but you need to calm down. Take a breath. I know this is hard, but if you don't relax, you're more of a danger to yourself…and your comrades."
Two guards rushed out of the elevator. I gave a shout and fired twice, hitting the first but missing the second. I fired wildly, randomly, hitting the remaining one at least three times. He dropped like a stone. I sat, gasping wildly for air. I realized I hadn't breathed while I was shooting.
"Take a deep breath, Bobby. Backup is on the way. I received word that Gadget is freeing some of the hostages. They're retrieving the guards' guns."
"I d-don't think that proverb was relative to this situation…" I sputtered.
A faint laugh. "Well, you know what I mean, anyway."
The gunshots had died down. I kept my eyes on the elevator door, every few seconds glancing back behind me at the bottom of the stairs. No one else came, and a few seconds later, the last shot was fired.
I pulled myself over the top of the stairwell wall, ready to duck back down if it was a false alarm. I only saw Gadget, Mask and Lead, the three of them untying the hostages. I made a move to aid them.
"No! Stay there!" Gadget shouted. "More backup could come!"
I resumed my position, taking Otacon's advice and inhaling deeply.
A crackle of static broke through my earpiece. "Otacon?" I asked.
Another burst of fuzzy sound. I tapped the Codec clipped to my belt, but of course that didn't improve anything. It wavered in volume before becoming completely silent.
"Hello…?" I asked.
A laugh came over the little radio. I shivered. "Who is this?"
The laugh continued for a few more seconds. A voice spoke, cold and slow. "Oh, that fight sounded marvelous…I so wished to be there."
"Who are you?" I demanded. "What happened to Otacon?"
"Otacon?" Another laugh, as if I had told a joke. "He's safe and sound back at that pitiful base…for now. No, I had this line tapped from the beginning. I've been listening to you. I can't believe you're the next Traveler of Second Earth."
"Saint Dane?!" I growled.
The laugh escalated into manic fits. "No…! I am not Saint Dane! But don't worry, you will meet me in time. You all will."
Static blocked out another laugh. I sighed and slammed my palm onto the Codec, which surprisingly enough made it go quiet.
"Bobby?! Bobby, are you all right? I lost complete contact with you! Respond! Respond!" Otacon shouted.
"I'm all right! I'm all right! You don't have to yell!" I rubbed my ear. "This line is tapped, Otacon. I just got contacted from…I think someone working with Saint Dane. He seemed to know what I was talking about."
"One of the terrorists…" Otacon sighed.
I nodded, but then realized he couldn't see me. "Yeah. I think so."
"I'll try to trace it. Until then, do what you can for the hostages."
I sat on my stairs, waiting for the elevator to open. It never did. I was distracted from my job by a voice at the foot of the stairs. "Well, you found me."
"Uncle Press!" I jumped down the stairs and wrapped my arms around him in a hug. Never before have I been so relieved to see someone. "You're alive!" I said stupidly.
"Of course I am! Why wouldn't I be?" Press laughed. "You did a good job here."
"I didn't do anything." I sighed. "I was too scared…"
"Hey, it's your first time doing something like this." He pushed me away playfully. "When I first came here, to First Earth, I was petrified."
I found that hard to believe. I glanced around the room at the thirty twenty or so hostages. "Is this everyone?" I made out a few of them wearing Mother Base uniforms. The Alpha Team, I supposed.
"No…unfortunately. Two Secret Service guards were shot and killed….along with the president of the United States. A few Mother Base soldiers from the Alpha Team are not here…Snake included." Press said. "Bobby, you've done well, but now it's time to let us do the work."
"The president…!?" Gadget sighed. "Oh no…this is worse than I thought."
"I can help," I said. "We need to sabotage these Metal Gear!"
"Two of them are already out of commission." Press pointed to the farthest two. "Snake and I managed to take them out before we were caught."
"How many soldiers are still here?" Gadget asked. "In the Big Shell? Besides us, of course."
"Snake and two others." Press said. "They're also assumed to be the only ones without injuries of some sort."
I glanced around at the hostages, most of which were leaning against the wall or on each other.
"Then you'll need these," Gadget handed Press four Fulton Recovery balloons. "Get out safe and alive."
"Who do you think we are?" Press laughed. "We'll be fine. Take care of Mouse for me." He cast me a grin.
"No," I insisted. "I'm going with you. Snake let me on this mission when I know he shouldn't have. I wasn't ready for anything. He knew this…and he still let me go. I'm going to find him and fire a few rounds of this EZ into his face."
Press laughed again, harder this time. "That's the spirit! Hey, Gadget…another balloon, please."
"Are you sure, Lone Wolf?" the soldier asked. "He's just a kid, after all."
"Then how will we train him to be a good trooper like yourself? He needs to be in on the action at some point." Press tucked the balloon pack away.
"I suppose you're right…take care." Gadget gave us a quick salute before turning and hustling the remaining hostages out of the room.
"Bobby? What are you doing? Report back to Mother Base!" Otacon commanded. "You've done what you can!"
"I can take care of myself. I know what to expect." I muttered into my microphone. "I'll be fine."
"Here, Bobby," Press handed me one of the enemy guards' weapons. "This is an AK. Use it to direct fire into the REX's eyes. Shoot them out on both sides…I don't think we have to worry about being stealthy at this point. They know we're here."
I nodded and tucked my EZ into its holster before taking the larger, heavier gun. I took brief aim at the Metal Gear in front of me and fired. The gun was pretty powerful, but I managed to keep it on target. The glass or whatever was shielding its 'eye' cracked after about ten shots and shattered in the next forty or so. I kept firing into its eye until I saw sparks fly. I only had a few shots left.
Press gave me a thumbs-up as he shot out another, leaving the last of the five. We both took it out in a matter of seconds. This one sparked on the inside and caught on something.
"Time to go!" Press grinned. He seemed to be enjoying himself a bit too much.
"Where are we going?" I asked as I followed him to a staircase leading the opposite direction of the elevator I had arrived in.
"To rescue Snake and the others, of course! I think they need a hand by now. Keep your gun at the ready…I don't have a tranquilizer."
I drew my EZ and handed it to him. "Here."
Press accepted it. "I'll do the firing from here on out…you only shoot if you're forced to. You hear me?"
I drew my M1911A1. "Loud and clear."
We ran down a few hallways and entered a few doors. We encountered a fair amount of soldiers, but Press almost always had them out cold before they realized something was even happening. One almost made it to his radio to call for backup, but that was our closest call. Then we arrived at a strut.
"We cross this, a platform, and another strut to get to where I believe Snake and the others are being held." Press said. "Keep an eye out for Cyphers. You're the only one who can dispose of these things." He pointed with the EZ Gun's muzzle to my handgun. "How much ammo do you have left?"
"Three out of five…no reloads." I said.
"I hope your aim is good." Press glanced out from the strut. Seeing that no one was there, he began to cross, motioning for me to follow.
We didn't get far before a dark clad figure jumped in front of us.
It was a dark-skinned woman with hair dyed blonde. She was wearing some sort of dark coloured suit that reminded me of a one-piece swimsuit with a cape connected to the neck (Seriously. She was wearing a cape that came down to about her middle) She wore black gloves and boots and was holding the scariest looking gun I had ever seen. It was at least three fourths the size of her and looked to weigh a ton. A bolt of electricity ran down the two tines set in the middle of the thing.
I gasped. I knew this woman from the picture Snake showed me back at Mother Base…
"You're…you're Fortune!" I stuttered.
"Well, well…you know who I am and I haven't met you before. My reputation must be spreading." Fortune slammed the gun on the strut, its end pointed at us. "Unfortunately, I was sent to annihilate you. No time for chat."
"Bobby, jump over the side of the strut, but keep a tight grip on the walkway." Press commanded. "We can't fight her. She's…invincible."
"What?" I hissed.
"Bobby?! What's going on!? You mentioned Fortune!? Do not engage her in battle!" Otacon shrieked.
"Uncle Press, what…?!"
Unfortunately, I didn't get my answer. Fortune fired up the gun, sending a deadly bolt of electricity flying in our direction. Press grabbed my hand and pulled me over the side of the strut, down toward the water.
I think I screamed. I lost my grip on my M1911A1 and it fell into the waters of oblivion. Press still had a tight grip on my hand, his other latched firmly onto the strut's walkway. He hoisted me up with strength I didn't know he had and I grabbed onto the walkway beside him.
"WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?!" I yelled.
"Just move!" He held the EZ gun in his teeth and used his hands to shuffle himself across the strut's walkway. I followed, fearing my grip would break anytime soon. Fortune stood over us, a grin on her face. "So…this is the end of the great Lone Wolf. I was glad to meet you, Mouse. Too bad I'm the cat."
She lifted her foot to slam it onto my fingers. I braced for the impact when a thwhip sounded. I watched the tiny, shiny dart shoot at the woman about to kill me…and then curve around her body and miss completely.
"Fool. You know you cannot hope to hit me." Fortune turned her attention to Press, who was dangling by one hand, tranquilizer gun in the other. "You should know, of all people."
"Shut up." Press said. "I wasn't aiming for you, anyway."
"Then what?" Fortune was grinning.
Press motioned casually with the gun. "I was aiming for your weapon. And it looks I hit it on target."
The electricity was shooting uncontrollably out of the tines, targeting the strut, the railing…everything it could reach. I realized the current was pinning me in place, preventing me from letting go. Maybe that's why Press was hanging so easily by one hand.
Fortune laughed again. "And what do you hope to accomplish? You are trapped."
"Maybe…" Press tucked the EZ clumsily into a pocket and reached into a small pouch at his belt. "And maybe not."
He clutched the small ball-ish object and pulled the pin with his teeth before throwing it at the far end of the strut we had come from. Fortune's eyes widened, but she didn't have enough time to retrieve the grenade and throw it into the ocean. She managed to almost get within reaching distance.
"Hang on tight, Bobby! The current won't last forever!" Press put the EZ back in his teeth and held onto the walkway tightly.
There was an enormous explosion that nearly blasted me off the Big Shell completely. I remember screaming as the walkway collapsed on that side of the strut, sending us plunging at a sideways angle. Fortune's gun tumbled off the walkway, crashing into the ocean. Fortune herself was nowhere in sight.
Press said something around the gun that I assumed was, "Follow me, Bobby!" Before inching himself upward along the platform. He then swung his leg over the railing and pulled himself up using the rails, walking carefully along the unstable strut. I swallowed my fear and attempted to follow, only to find my palms were slick with sweat. I couldn't hold on.
"UNCLE PRESS!" I cried. "I'M GOING TO FALL!"
He shuffled back toward me and stuck out his foot. "Grab hold!"
I clung for dear life onto his boot as he hoisted me over the side. I clutched to the railing, shivering. Press tucked the EZ back into my holster. "You ok?"
"I need a minute…" I gasped.
"We don't have a minute." He said sternly. "You wanted to come with me, right? Then you have to follow my orders. That's an order. My next order is for you to follow me."
He began inching up the dangerously tilted strut. I followed, holding on for dear life. I tried not to look down.
When we reached the other side, to stable, solid ground (If you can even call the Big Shell that) I collapsed, hugging my knees. I was thankful Press didn't tell me to get up and move my butt as he worked with the keycard entry thing.
After a few seconds, I had calmed down quite a bit and the door was open. Press retrieved the EZ from me and we headed inside. Voices came from a room up ahead.
"I'm going to ask you one more time…what did you hope to find?" A gruff, annoyed voice demanded.
"What do you think? A giant, floating complex in the middle of the ocean…nothing suspicious about that at all! You said it was a 'water treatment plant'…I laugh at that pitiful excuse of a cover-up!" The young, confident voice was choked off in a harsh wheeze.
"Enough!" the gruff voice roared. "Tell me what I want to know, or another of you dies!"
"We….hhhaah…looking for….gah!...Metal Gear…!" the voice gasped.
"This is our cue," Press said to me. He slammed his boot into the door, popping it open instantly.
We were facing some sort of sick bay. There were seven people in the room, three of which were tied together on the floor, gagged and blindfolded. They were wearing the FOXHOUND uniform. Three were standing around a small cot. One was a bald, skinny, ugly man with a uniform slightly resembling my own. The olive drab was almost the same shade, but he didn't have rows of pockets. He wore khakis and shiny, black shoes. His wrinkled face was smiling before we kicked the door down, but the expression was replaced with one of shock and…was that horror…?
The second man was wearing a similar uniform, except his was adorned with medals. He wore a general's cap and smart looking boots. But what really struck me about this guy was his face. Across the entire right side of his head…were deep, dark scars. It was as though he had engaged a chainsaw in a blind fight and lost. His eyes were piercing blue. I knew this man. Vulgin…
The last man was younger than the other two, and a bit shorter. He had short cut blonde hair hidden by some sort of maroon beret. He turned to face us, shock on his face. He was wearing a uniform like the others, adorned with some medals. I also knew him. Revolver-Ocelot…
The last occupant of the room was tied down to the cot. He was stripped to his undergarments and his chest bore still-bleeding cuts and incisions. He had very light hair that came down to his shoulders and a serious look on his face. He coughed to the side slightly, and I saw the bruises lining his neck.
"Well, well, well…look who's here." Vulgin sneered. A bolt of electricity shot from one knuckle to the other as he cracked them. "Lone Wolf…and what's this? A child?" He laughed.
"You know very well who this is." Press said firmly.
"Oh! Is this…the one The Boss warned us about?" Vulgin roared with laughter. "A mere child?! Is this some kind of joke?"
"I suggest you release the prisoners now." Press continued calmly.
"This doesn't concern you, Lone Wolf! Get out of here!" The man strapped to the cot rasped he broke out in another fit of coughs.
"You were not given permission to speak!" Ocelot hissed, drawing a pistol from his belt and slamming the butt of it into the man's ribs. He sputtered in pain and gave another hacking cough, this time bringing up a thin line of blood trickling from his lips.
"Perhaps he will give us more information than this maggot." The old, ugly man suggested. His voice made the hair on the back of my neck stand up. I could tell I already despised him.
"Perhaps." Press said. He took brief aim with the EZ Gun and fired. The three of them didn't have time to react before the dart stuck into the light-haired man's shoulder, quickly and efficiently knocking him unconscious.
Ocelot swore and drew two pistols from holsters at his sides, twirling them in the air in an overly-fancy manner. "Why did you do that, hmm?"
"To keep him from giving you any more information." Press stated calmly.
"Ah. Smart." Ocelot grinned. He was still twirling the pistols…the revolvers. "Unfortunately, that cost you a hostage."
He gripped both guns and aimed them at the nearest hostage—a young man with reddish-blonde hair—and pulled both triggers. Twin bangs exploded from its barrel and struck the victim's head. Blood and brain tissue was forced out the man's nostrils from the impact, blood seeping through the blindfold covering his eyes. He slumped, dead. I gasped and nearly threw up. Never in my life did I want to see what I had just witnessed. The other two hostages sat frighteningly still. I recognized one…
"You're down to one. One died of fear already." Ocelot nudged a dark haired man, who didn't respond in the slightest. "And the last will be fun to torture. Won't you, Snake?"
Press remained unwavering. The EZ was now pointed at Ocelot's head. I tried not to stare at the dead man.
"So, Lone Wolf…now that you're here, you might as well stay." Vulgin grinned nastily. I wanted to throw up all over again.
My disgust must have been very apparent. The old, ugly man chuckled. "Look at him. What have we to fear? He can't take a simple death."
A simple death? A simple death?! That 'hostage', as they called him, had a name! A life! A role in the Mother Base! Maybe he sacrificed everything for someone! Maybe he lost people important to him! And they shoot him like it's fucking nothing! I had never felt so mad in my entire life. I wanted to beat his old, greasy head into the wall; to paint over the red staining the hostage's face with this guy's own.
"Oh look. You made him mad. Poor little kid." Ocelot purred. "What's wrong…? Is the little Mouse too scared?"
"Quite the opposite." I hissed. I glanced to the sides of the room for a weapon…anything. I could use anything!
"Mouse, please relax." Press said firmly. "I know it's tough. I know it's terrible. But if you break down now…"
My gaze settled on a pair of binoculars lying on a small cabinet. I grabbed them and eyed Ocelot, who broke out in laughter. "Oooh! What are you going to do, little Mouse? Stare me to death?"
"No." I tightened my grip on the tool I now had. "I'm going to beat the shit out of you."
With that, I threw the binoculars as hard as I could. Ocelot brought up his revolvers, but the eyepiece hit its target. One gun was knocked out of his hand, the other knocked nearly out of his grip. I saw my chance and ducked, retrieving the other gun. When I stood again, my gun was aimed at his forehead; his at mine.
"Mouse…!" Press made a move, but a glance from Vulgin held him back.
"Beat the shit out of me, you say…?" Ocelot hissed.
"That is, if I don't shoot you first." I growled back.
"Oh? Let me tell you a secret," Ocelot purred. "Both of these guns only have one shot left. I don't know which barrel it is loaded into. It's a little…Russian Roulette, don't you think? We both must shoot before the other. Tell me, Mouse…are you good with guns?"
I narrowed my eyes. "I'm as good as I need to be."
Ocelot smiled. "Good. You don't back down. One…two…three…go."
I pulled the trigger, getting an empty click of the cylinder. I hastily pulled back the reload and tried again. Still nothing. My vision was going white with anxiety.
Press turned behind me and shot with the EZ, striking the old man. He collapsed, sending Vulgin into a frenzy. He stormed toward my uncle, electricity crackling around his hands…?
"PRESS!" I don't know what made me do it, but I ignored Ocelot and turned the revolver on the lumbering general. I pulled the trigger.
With a loud crack that made me jump, the bullet flew from the gun and imbedded itself into his shoulder. Vulgin howled and dropped to his knees, clutching at his wounded arm.
Ocelot was about to pull the trigger again when I ducked and kicked at his kneecaps. His gun went off in a similar crack to my own, striking the wall harmlessly. Press was by my side in an instant, unloading a few darts into his back.
"Free Snake. Let's get out of here." He said sternly before going back to facing Vulgin.
I dropped by the Mother Base leader and began working with the ropes, untying one and beginning to unravel it. Snake got an arm free and pulled his gag and blindfold off. "Get Raiden….the man on the cot! I can mange myself now!"
I left him and hurried to the bed, undoing the ropes that cut deeply into the man's—Raiden's—wrists and ankles. I managed to free him and drape one of his arms around the back of my neck in a fireman's carry. I dragged him off the bed and hobbled to the door, surprised that a guy so skinny could weigh so much. Snake grabbed a small knife lying on a table beside the cot and approached Vulgin, who was now struggling hand-to-hand with my uncle.
"Hey. Vulgin. I have another scar for your collection." With that, Snake dragged the blade across his head, slicing clean across his upper left cheek across his nose. Vulgin dropped his attention toward Press and howled, clutching at his face. Press scrambled up, retrieved Raiden from me and handing the EZ off to Snake, and shouted, "Go, Go, Go!"
We were out of there in an instant, running blindly. I was screaming into my microphone for helicopter support…anything.
"A helicopter is en route to you. Use the Fulton Recovery to reach it!" Otacon said over my frantic shouts.
"Oh, not again…" I groaned.
We rounded a corner to come face to face with a guard. Stunned, he didn't react right away. Snake gained the upper hand and shot him in the chest with the tranquilizer gun, dropping him like a stone.
Then we reached the closest strut. Press put Raiden down and connected him to a Fulton Recovery balloon faster than I could have muttered another complaint against said method of travel. He was off in an instant, leaving us three.
"Go!" Press threw Snake and me one. "Hurry! Cyphers!"
I glanced over his head to see three or so hovering toward us. Their guns swiveled around, ready to fire…
I hurriedly strapped the harness on and shot into the air just as the bullets began striking the strut. Instead of a terrified scream, I was laughing. I had done it. I had survived what I assumed to be the impossible.
The helicopter picked us up a few moments later. I was so relieved, I gave the three people waiting to greet us a hug. Hey, if you were scared for your life, and you saw a few friendly faces from the organization you're from, you'd do it too. We received some water and food, but I couldn't stomach anything at the moment. The murdered man's face was still in my mind.
Raiden was being treated for multiple cuts, bruises and broken bones as I sat, staring at my untouched food.
"Why did you do it?" I finally asked Snake as he wolfed down his rations.
"Why what?" he muttered.
"Why did you let me go on a mission like that?! I'm…just a…kid!" I stuttered madly.
"Well, you asked for it." He shrugged and continued shoveling food into his face. "You gonna eat that?"
I handed him my provisions, which were a PBnJ and a canteen of water. "And you let me? Just because I asked? Are you insane? Sometimes people ask for things when they don't really mean it!"
"Then how would you get a taste about being one of us?" Snake asked.
"What do you mean?"
"How would you know what it's like to be a Traveler?"
"By…by experience…" I said.
"And exactly how will you earn that? By going out into the field. Learning exactly what we're up against. What exactly we need to do to save the Territories." He took another monster bite and chewed a bit. "You'll never learn that sitting on your ass back at the base."
I sighed heavily.
"I was surprised you wanted to come and rescue me, too." Snake continued. "I would have expected you to leave with the other hostages. You've got guts, kid. Guts and promise. No wonder Paz liked you. She can see it in you. I think your uncle can too."
I stared at my shoes for a long while. I was fairly certain that nothing else could surprise me. But Snake still managed to, just as we were landing back at the base, in the most casual voice, like he was talking about the weather.
"Oh, I forgot to mention, but Raiden's the Acolyte of First Earth."
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I didn't know what to expect when we got back to the base. A party, a celebration…? A celebration that most of us made it back alive? No.
What we got instead was chilling. We unloaded ourselves from the helicopter, Raiden supported by Snake, and walked toward the entrance. We were greeted by a row of soldiers on either side of the hall, saluting as we walked down the middle. No one said a word. It was the most eerie thing I had ever witnessed.
As it turned out, the president, some Secret Service men, and five of our soldiers had been KIA. Killed in Action. Metal Gear were being developed in the Big Shell. The president was trying to negotiate with the terrorists; to keep them from selling Metal Gear to opposing countries. The plan backfired.
I showered and changed into some fresh clothes before Para-Medic pulled me into the sick bay to make sure I was not harmed in any way. After I escaped her, I wandered into the mess hall, where sure enough, Paz was sitting, staring at the table.
I walked over to her and she leapt up, wrapping her arms around me.
"The hostages…they were telling terrible stories. They said a young boy was brave enough to continue with the mission…but he had no chance of survival."
I was still stunned by the sudden affection. I awkwardly hugged her back. "I wouldn't go down that easily."
"I knew you wouldn't," she whispered. "I'm so glad you're back."
XxXxXxXx
Yeah. Raiden's the Acolyte. Not the ninja cyborg Raiden, the wimpy one from Sons of Liberty. I actually liked him before he was cool. I am a hipster. *Puts on shades*
Anyway, this is going to be the last chapter for a while, so enjoy this and whatever. Eat some cookies for me.
And remember to review.
Hasta la Vista, Readers.
Lordoftheghostking28
