Chapter 3

A dozen of helicopters, having seemingly appeared from nowhere, led by Morpho, Big Boss' personal chopper, had taken on the attacker, striking down enough of them to instill a spark of hope into the eyes of the few survivors that were left fighting for their lives on Mother Base, and giving them enough time to consider their next move. Artyom noticed that a flare had bee lit on the adjacent platform, and that the remaining troops were converging towards it. Before he could say anything, his talkie-walkie emerged from his slumber and the voice of a man, with the loud sound of helicopter blades in the background, brought back the survivors to reality.

"To all survivors, this is Morpho. Rendez-vous on the deck of the hangar platform ASAP for extraction. And be quick, they'll probably hear that as well, and we've already lost most of our choppers!"

No one spoke a word. They rushed to the platform, all with a strange, mixed feeling of hope and sorrow. The platform they were on, having been tilted by the attack, was on the brink of collapse, and so was the bridge to the hangar platform. They had to move quickly before the enemy recovered from the surprise aerial attack, and caught up with them. Unfortunately, none of them had anything that could be used to destroy the bridge for good behind them in order to hinder their progress. In fact, they didn't even have a decent amount of ammunition left to defend themselves had they been confronted with almost any kind of threat. They were damp, tired, shocked, and some of them had been injured. Their only option was to flee. In the air, they'd be vulnerable to the enemy's air-to-air missiles, thought Artyom, but staying on any of the platform, they'd be crushed under, or blown up along with, the collapsing facility, or end up like sitting ducks in the water.

In the strangely calm period of time that it took them to run through the bridge to what seemed to be the last standing platform of the once great Mother Base, questions started to come to his mind. Who were the attackers? Why did they attack MSF? How could they know that it would be so vulnerable at this exact moment? Where was the boss?... But for now, the only question that mattered was: will we be able to get out of here? For now, the half-ruined offshore complex had grown silent again, while the attackers prepared for the final assault on the platform towards which the evacuation helicopters had already started to converge. The group could make their way to the other side of the bridge just like if nothing had happened. The only difference was that the sea, under their feet, was on fire. And they were never coming back.

When they finally arrived at the platform they were headed for, they had to go around the hangar to reach the landing zone. On the way, they came across another, more numerous group, led by a tall, blond-haired, muscular man, wearing sunglasses. Nothing in particular distinguished the man from the soldiers he led, but it was obvious, even for someone who would not know him (which did not exist on Mother Base), just by looking at his expression, and those of his fellow soldiers, that he was their natural and unquestioned leader. But as every member of the other group knew very well that this man was Benedict "Kazuhira" Miller, who only took orders from Big Boss himself, a simple twitch of his head sufficed to make them merge with the rest of their comrades and head for the landing zone. The look of infinite anger in the eyes of Miller dissuaded them of uttering even a single question or remark. In a last moment of collective, disciplined silence, they headed towards the center of the platform.

And then, the assault started.

From all the neighboring platforms, troops started swarming in, guns blazing. The unlucky ones who were still trying to get across the bridges were the first to fall, shot in the back, or, in a last heroic but meaningless stand, weapon in hand, crushed by the overwhelmingly powerful attackers. An helicopter had already landed, and was projecting all over the deck drops of water that blurred even further the vision of the fleeing soldiers rushing towards it. They fixed their eyes full of tears and rain on the red light and they went on, running for those who could, walking for those who couldn't, carried by others for the the rest. Flames burned on each side of their field on view, they heard, behind them, men shooting in their direction, and in front of them, the blades of the helicopter, spinning, and the dim red light, growing fainter and fainter. Some started falling. They heard bullets passing by their ears, touch the cabin of the helicopter. Some turned back, drawing their weapons.

And then, pain. Intense, blinding pain. A bullet had pierced through Artyom's leg, breaking his left femur, and rendering it useless. It was over, he thought. In a instant that seemed to last for eternity, he fell on his knees stared down at the metallic floor wet with blood and rain. A hand grabbed him by the back of his uniform, pulling him back up with superhuman strength. Taggart. Without uttering a word, she put his arm over her shoulder, ignoring his grunts of pain. They went on, their comrades falling like flies around them, the bullets flying, the air burning in their lungs, owing their survival only to chance.

Suddenly, from the upper right corner of their eyes, they saw a chopper emerging from the black smoke, and all rose their heads. And their enemies, Artyom knew, looked up too, for it was Morpho, and aboard it, at the door, a fierce look in his only eye, the face covered in blood, Big Boss. Firing in small bursts, even from the helicopter, even from that distance, all his bullets found their target. Most of the enemy's shots were directed at him now, which allowed the remaining survivors to finally reach the landing zone, where three helicopters had now landed. Taggart, with the help of Cameron, dropped Artyom on the closest one.

"Get in." she said to the British soldier
"No! I can..."

Before he could say anything more, she had snatched his rifle from his hands.

"This is my fight. Save yourself"

Without waiting for an answer, she turn around, starting almost immediately to shoot.

"Departing in 10...9...8..." the pilot started
"Come on!" Yelled a soldier next to Cameron, who stood, puzzled, right next to the chopper door.
"7...6..."

Cameron got inside quickly.

"5...4..."

Someone closed the door.

"3"

Cameron dropped down against it, next to Artyom.

"2"

"Where is Taggart?"
"1"

"She... stayed"

"Taking off!"

Artyom tried to pull himself up, screaming in pain, but the shakes of the helicopter, and his weak legs cruelly threw him back down. Tears started going down his cheeks.

As the platform started collapsing, the helicopters, and the few precious survivors aboard, slowly flew up, leaving behind them the ruins of their home, and the tomb of their comrades, some still alive, offering their last effort to allow the passengers of the helicopters to escape. The farther they got, the harder it was to distinguish the living from the dead, and before they knew it, the whole complex had been swallowed by the sea, leaving only a burning scar on the dark-blue horizon of the Caribbean night.

Only a handful of men had escaped, from the hundreds of inhabitants that Mother Base was home to. They could not believe what they had been through, how much they had lost within just a few hours, and what little they had left.

A chopper -the one in which Cameron and Artyom were- parted with the others.

"Where are we going?"
"Splitting to lose them. Boss' Orders"

No one had the force to say anything more. And when they thought it was over, they heard another explosion.

Those who were not already looking turned their head to see, in the distance, Morpho, in flames, spinning down into the abode of Neptune.

Now it was over.

All over.