CHAPTER 6

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Onward to the chapter!

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SECOND EARTH

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Courtney sat in a beanbag chair in Mark's room, intensely reading Bobby's journals. She was on the second, insisting she read it first. Mark was desperately trying to clean his room by stashing everything under the bed.

"Don't bother. This place needs to be cleaned with fire." Courtney muttered.

Mark sighed. "I know…"

Courtney tossed the second journal to him and announced, "I've read it all. I don't understand anything…but I read it. It's…terrible."

"I don't understand either," Mark confessed, "but there's got to be an explanation somewhere. Maybe Bobby will get it later."

"I'm concerned about our Earth…what's it called again?"

"Second Earth," Mark sat on the edge of his bed and began to read.

"Yeah. Second Earth," Courtney inhaled sharply. "What if they come here next? Then what?"

"Then…we join the fight." Mark said confidently.

"How? We're not Travelers."

"We'll…find a way."

"Oh, yeah, sure. We'll just attack Saint Dane with baseball bats and crowbars." Courtney said sarcastically. "Think about it, Mark. You're an Acolyte. Your job is to collect journals, not fight."

"What about Raiden?" Mark insisted.

"He's a soldier! He's trained to fight! We're trained to do mathematical equations and pointless chemistry!"

"Chemistry is not p-pointless…" Mark stuttered.

"It is during a war!"

The two sat in silence for a few minutes. Mark read over the journal and Courtney tried to come up with a game plan. It felt to her like she was preparing for a zombie apocalypse.

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FIRST EARTH

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I couldn't sleep for the next week to two. I would always dream of Ocelot pulling the triggers of his revolvers, the bullets punching through the hostage's head. I would nightmare that I was in Raiden's place, being tortured for what I know about the Flume and being a Traveler. I never had enough information for them. I always died by the end of my dream.

Para-Medic gave me everything she could as a sleep aid, but nothing worked. She said I was experiencing some degree of post-traumatic stress disorder, and I didn't disagree. No one my age should have to go through what I did. …I take that back. No one should go through what I did. What we all did.

We sent out another Alpha Team to exterminate the rest of the Metal Gear in the Big Shell, and they all came back without a scratch. They reported no one aboard the Big Shell…it was completely deserted. Cleared of all Metal Gear or personnel.

That was a minor victory to us. We celebrated that night, but I was not part of it. Instead, I sat in the hallway outside of the mess hall, using the faint light that filtered from the windows to write this journal. Paz sat with me and taught me a few words of Spanish when I came upon a writer's block. Now that I think about it, that's the first date I ever had. Whoop, go me.

At least a month went by. I was rotated from mess hall duty to the combat unit, where I was taught how to use a knife and a gun even smaller than the M1911A1 to take down an opponent bigger than myself. I figured that would come in handy if I ever fought Vulgin face to face. I became stronger in body and mind. I began sleeping better.

And then Snake requested a meeting in his quarters with Uncle Press and me. I already knew this wouldn't be good, but I walked down the hallway to his quarters, Press right behind me.

Snake was sitting behind his desk, accompanied by a man who looked about thirty. He was standing beside Snake's chair, looking over a long, slightly ripped paper. He had brown, flyaway hair and glasses. He was wearing a white lab coat over a green shirt and black pants. He glanced up as we walked in. "Bobby and Press, I assume?"

I knew that voice…

"…Otacon?" I asked.

"Yeah, that's me. It's good to finally meet you in person." He put the paper down. "So you are the two Travelers of Second Earth."

"Yeah…I guess." I muttered.

Snake cleared his throat. "Let's get to business," he muttered. "Bobby…Press… We have made a terrible discovery at the Big Shell. It was indeed all a cover-up, but not for what we expected."

He held up the paper Otacon has been holding. "This is one blueprint we found. The rest are being analyzed by the R&D team. We are up against the most advanced Metal Gear I've ever seen."

I glanced at uncle Press, shocked to see his eyes widen. I blinked, and the moment of fear he had was gone. He retrieved the paper and glanced over it before handing it to me.

In the upper left corner was the name of the Metal Gear…Shagohad. Snake had mentioned this before. It was a slightly boxy looking thing with missiles and weapons plastered all over it. Its armor was, at the weakest spots, a foot thick. This thing could start and finish a war by itself.

"I have never seen a Shagohad this modified," Snake said. "It has been fitted with nuclear weapons…more than enough to wipe out half of North America."

"Where did you get this?" Press asked.

"The last Alpha Team we sent into the Big Shell to erase any and all Metal Gear left behind…they found it in a box half-buried in the remains of a desk."

"Saint Dane…?" I suggested, handing the blueprints back to Press.

"That's what we originally assumed. It sounds like what he would do…plant just enough information for us to catch on," Snake hissed. "But look at the bottom right corner. I think he wanted us to see this."

Press read the words and sighed. "Huey Emmerich and Nikolai Stepanovich Sokolov."

"They have been forced to design this…I'm sure of it," Otacon growled. "Saint Dane didn't just want to inform us; he wanted to anger us."

"Most likely." Snake agreed. "But that's not all." He opened a drawer and pulled out a folded paper, handing it to Press. "This is the most frightening of all."

Press carefully unfolded the paper, which turned out to be more blueprints. He scanned the layout of….whatever was on the paper…and handed it to me.

It looked like a giant spider (That was my first thought, anyway). efffA giant spider with a really big, round head. Lines pointed to it from all sides of the paper, giving descriptions of the weapons to be installed on it. The name really struck me, though. I thought this thing was going to be called MegaDeath2000 or something.

"Peacewalker?" I said.

"If you thought the Shagohad was bad…this thing has enough nuclear power to start a war to destroy all of humanity." Otacon said. "It is nearly unstoppable…its armor can withstand a nuclear blast."

"That's…unfair." I handed the blueprints back.

"To make matters worse, it too is being designed by Emmerich and Sokolov." Snake took it. "And as you already know, Huey is Otacon's father."

Otacon stared at the ground. "He's…really the only family I have left."

"We have been alerted to Emmerich and Sokolov's location." Snake said. "Groznyj Grad Lab. It's in Russia…a long way from here. Are you up for the trip?" He pronounced Groznyj like 'Groz-nee'.

That last question took me by surprise. "Already? Another mission?"

"A Traveler gets no real rest, Mouse," Snake said. "We must be ready for anything. Be thankful I gave you a warning before we picked you up by helicopter at dawn."

"Wait…we're going tomorrow morning?" I blinked.

"We cannot afford to waste time. If the blueprints were in a box for us to find, that means they either made copies, or are nearly completed with their preparations." Otacon said. "And when the modified Shagohad and the Peacewalker are complete…who knows what they'll do with my father and Sokolov."

"I suggest you get as much sleep as you can," Snake said. "I don't know what awaits us in Russia, but I can guarantee it won't be anything welcoming."

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Get as much sleep as you can?

Naaaah….

I actually would have preferred if he hadn't told me we were taking a trip halfway across the world. Then maybe I would have slept better. I tossed and turned all night, still in my uniform, waiting for the first rays of sunlight.

Uncle Press dragged me out of bed just as the rain began pouring down. We collected everything we could need and jumped into the helicopter waiting on the landing pad outside. Snake and Otacon were already waiting for us, Otacon at the helicopter's…wheel, if you could even call it that.

"It'll be a two day journey." Snake said. "Buckle up and prepare to live in the skies."

At least this helicopter had doors. And really longish seat/beds. I could do this. This was great!

Who was I kidding. I was scared shitless. I didn't want a repeat of the Big Shell. And where did everyone go from that place, anyway…?

I had a lot of time to write, so I caught up with my journal. I hope this was easy to follow…I was pretty scatterbrained.

Oh, that reminds me…I never got a chance to tell Paz goodbye. I hoped that wouldn't be what she remembered me by. The kid who didn't say goodbye then got himself killed on a suicide mission in Russia. That has a terrible ring to it, doesn't it?

Anyway, apart from depressing thoughts, I had a lot of time to drill Press about being a Traveler. I figured I might as well get information for you, Mark, and your role in this whole Halla thing.

"An Acolyte?" Press asked.

I nodded. "What's their roll? Just collecting journals?"

"Oh no…they have a much bigger mission." Press said. "They are the ones who put clothes at the entrances of the Flumes…so Travelers from other Territories can blend in more easily. Well, most of them, anyway," he chuckled.

"What do you mean?"

"You'll see," he gave me a grin. "You'd better tell Mark to get his backside down to the Flume and stock it up with clothes. And none of that stand-out, bright neon stuff, either."

Sorry, Mark. You've got a mission. I don't know how you can achieve it…Sorry.

This was by far the most boring helicopter ever. And to make matters worse, there was no bathroom and Snake refused to put the 'copter down. For two whole days and one night. I hated peeing in bottles.

But besides that, our ride was fairly smooth…only a heavy downpour of rain the first day. Otacon said Russia was going to be fairly cool, which I was looking forward to. I didn't want to go around in the blasting heat trying to remain undetected.

By the time the helicopter touched down in a clearing in the woods, I was dying of claustrophobia. I needed to get out of that tiny little metal flying contraption. I nearly kissed the ground…I was so glad to be back on land.

"I'll stay here and relay information to you from Mother Base." Otacon said. "Use the Codecs. Call me if you have any trouble, I'll see what I can do."

Snake hefted a small pack onto his back and motioned for us to do the same and follow. I retrieved my pack and waited for Press before we began going north from our landing place.

"It's a half-day hike to Groznyj Grad." Snake said. "In your packs, you'll find a modified EZ Gun with one hundred shots exactly, a M1911A1 with fifty, and a survival knife. I would use them to your advantage to catch and eat."

"It's just like a camping trip, Bobby." Press said.

I shrugged. "This is one thing I can do without trouble."

The plan was simple: we sneak in, find out where Sokolov and Emmerich were being held and rescue them, escape with them and make it to the first clearing we find and wait for Otacon to bring the helicopter around to pick us up. Piece of cake.

I doubted anything would go right.

We hiked for what seemed like miles in the dense forest. All around me were the rustle of leaves, the singing of birds, and a few startled mice every now and then. The greenery was fairly pleasant; I never saw the same shade of green twice. Snake showed me how to catch a mouse and cook it over a smokeless fire of dried animal droppings in less than an hour. I would say it was actually going fairly well. And I learned I liked grilled mouse.

It was when the sun began to set that we ran into trouble.

"The lab is up there," Snake said, jerking a thumb ahead of him. "Be on guard."

"How do you know?" I asked.

"That pile of leaves just moved." Snake drew his EZ and fired. The leaf pile emitted a groan and didn't move again. "Damn snipers." He traded in the EZ for the M1911A1.

He kicked the pile as we walked past, exposing the muzzle of the long sniper rifle. I reached for it, but Press held me back.

"Do you really think you'll need a gun as long as your leg with us when we try to sneak in? It'll do more harm than good."

He was right. I left the unconscious sniper alone as we crept though the woods. Our clothing was darker, and as night fell, it gave us more protection against prying eyes. We didn't see any more guards as a structure loomed in the distance in a depression in the earth, dimly lit by spotlights.

"That's Groznyj Grad?" I asked. "It's huge!"

The entire place looked to be split into four…a northwest, northeast, southwest and southeast. Spotlights searched the area, landing on tanks and sheds. Two giant structures sat in the middle, connected by a covered walkway. I could see guards milling about like ants.

"This is going to be tougher than I thought," Press muttered.

Uh oh.

"Let's move out." Snake began walking again. I quickly hurried to catch up. "Bobby, when we get in there, I want you to follow every order I give you. If I say run, do it. If I say fire, do it. Don't hesitate." He said.

"All right…" I said.

"If we come upon a woman…called The Boss…" he hesitated slightly. "I want you to kill her if I am incapable."

"What? Why?" I asked. "I thought she was your mentor…"

Snake whirled around to face me, the barrel of the M1911A1 glinting in the fading light. "She defected. She was the Traveler. She is now the enemy. She cannot be allowed to go to other Territories and destroy them. Am I clear?"

I stumbled back. "Yes….yes sir…"

Snake turned and continued walking. I fell back to Press' side. "Uncle Press?"

"Yeah?" He asked in hushed tones.

"Who is The Boss?"

"I do suppose you have a right to know," he sighed. "She was Snake's mentor before she defected to the terrorists' side. Snake said she left him for dead, but I think she purposefully let him live. I've seen her fight before. If she means to kill you…she would without batting an eyelash. She wounded him terribly before throwing him over a bridge, into a rushing river below. He managed to grab her headband…that's why he wears that."

"Why over a bridge?" I asked.

"He was on a mission to rescue Sokolov before the terrorists found him. He was too late. The Boss disposed of him and then abducted Sokolov, taking him here, to Groznyj Grad."

"Oh," was all I said. We continued on in silence, drawing closer and closer to our destination.

"Bobby, The Boss was a bit more than a mentor to Snake," Otacon said over my earpiece. "She was the only one he could turn to…he could trust. We all trusted her."

I sighed and focused on the lights in the distance that were becoming clearer. I could begin counting the tanks if I concentrated.

"That's why you need to dispose of her. She knows more than Snake does about being a Traveler…about all of us. We need to stop her from passing on those secrets."

"We enter from the sewers." Snake pointed to a small lake east from the Groznyj Grad gates. A pipe jutted from the side of a manmade drop-off, a tiny stream of water falling from it. "Let's move."

"Oh boy…" I muttered.

Otacon didn't say anything else to me as we made our way to the lake. The pipe was large enough for me to stand up in, but it was covered in a rusting gate. Snake drew his survival knife from his pack and began sawing at the bars. After a few minutes, they began to come free and we had our entrance. We entered the sewer pipe, unsure of what we'd run into or even if we'd make it out alive.

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Lordoftheghostking28