OPERATION INTRUDE N313
DAY FOUR – NOON
SUPPLY STORAGE FACILITY BASEMENT
Snake and Fox ducked behind steel shelving and wooden crates as tiny pieces of concrete splintered from the wall and shrapnel from the buckshot pellets ricocheted down the aisles. Being on the far side of the aisle from their attacker, there was little chance of being hit by the brunt of the blast at this range, but even having a couple of pellets lodged in the limbs and shredding muscle could cause problems.
Why didn't Shotmaker use slugs, Snake wondered? It would increase his effective range and potential for damage; it's more accurate too. It was then that he realized that the buckshot was intentional—Shotmaker wasn't going for kills, but for incidental injuries that would slow them down, little by little, until he could get closer.
He's toying with us, Snake realized.
Gray Fox stuck his arm around the corner and blind-fired his pistol down the aisle, which stopped the Russian's assault. He looked over to Snake. "Split up: you break left, I'll go right!"
Snake nodded, and the duo split in opposite directions on their respective side of the room. When Snake got to the corner of the room and turned down the aisle at the end, he made it about halfway down before two fragmentation grenades were lobbed his way, forcing him to turn around and start running back. Seeing a space in the shelving, he dove through it into the next aisle behind the large crates before the pineapples exploded, sending shrapnel in every direction in the enclosed space.
The shelving in front of Snake teetered and fell into the heavier shelf across from it, which thankfully held up the weight. Snake rolled out of the way as boxes and crates fell just inches away from him, some bursting open and spilling their heavy (and in some cases, very sharp) contents onto the floor. Loose dirt fell from the ceiling while the lights flickered. Snake coughed as some fell onto his face.
Gray Fox moved swiftly down his aisle on the opposite side of the room and spotted Shotmaker through the shelving at the same time that the Russian turned to face him. Fox quickly aimed and took a couple of potshots while Shotmaker ducked, hitting nothing but the wall behind his target. Fox moved back as Shotmaker returned fire, blowing holes through the crates and showering Fox in wood splinters and packing peanuts.
While Fox was engaged in a firefight with Shotmaker, Snake crawled underneath the fallen shelving and grabbed one of the spools of barbed wire that had fallen beneath it, careful to only grab the spool on its sides to avoid shredding his hands.
The room they were in was about 60 yards long, with five metal shelves loaded with crates and boxes spanning its length, making for six aisles total, not counting the one that Shotmaker had closed off by toppling the shelving. Seeing the barbed wire gave Snake an idea for giving him and Fox more control over the battlefield.
Quickly and carefully, Snake grabbed the end of one wire and wrapped it around a vertical strut of one of the shelves and tossed the spool into the next aisle. He then shoved some boxes aside so that he could crawl through and pick up the spool and wrap it around the next shelf, feeding it back and forth until the new aisle he was in was crisscrossed with barbed wire at about shin and thigh-height.
Shotmaker turned into Snake's aisle just in time to see Snake throw the spool into the next aisle over, and Snake had to scramble to crawl back the opposite way to take cover behind the fallen shelf.
"What are you up to, Zmeya…?" Shotmaker demanded, blasting his SPAS-12 to try and catch Snake's legs as he crawled between the crates.
Fox kept his handgun raised as he turned the corner and fired on Shotmaker, forcing the Russian to curse and take cover. Fox rushed forward to the next shelf and peeked around the corner to see the spool on the floor, its wire feeding between the boxes of the shelf. Seeing that the aisle was clear, Fox moved to the next shelf just in time to see a flash grenade bounce on the ground in front of him, forcing him to dive back into the aisle he'd just left, narrowly avoiding being blinded and "only" getting struck with tinnitus.
Shotmaker attempted to put some space between him and Fox, only to skid to a stop when he noticed the barbed wire. Any more steps, and he would have tripped and fell into a trap that would have left him torn up.
"Chyort!" Shotmaker cursed, turning back to the end of the aisle, and raising his shotgun. These spies were craftier than he thought, he noted. He couldn't afford to get careless.
Snake crawled under the fallen shelf to the other side and raised his Beretta to point toward the end of the walkway, his back to the standing shelf on his right as he slowly crept up to the corner, listening for Shotmaker's footsteps.
As he turned the corner, he came face to face with the Russian, and used his off hand to grab the shotgun by the pump action to push it towards his enemy to point the barrel away from him. Shotmaker pushed back, attempting to shove Snake off while Snake tried to maintain his grip on his Beretta in the struggle.
Snake tried to ram his knee into Shotmaker's groin, but the Russian torturer stepped back just out of reach. Snake lost some of the leverage he had to the taller man, and Shotmaker used the shoulder of his trigger arm to body check Snake into the ground. As Snake landed hard onto the dusty concrete floor, he rolled to the side without skipping a beat, raising his weapon to take a quick shot at Shotmaker before the Russian could bring his shotgun to bear.
Snake squeezed the trigger and heard a cry of pain from the Russian—unfortunately however, while Snake had the quick reflexes to hit the former Spetsnaz, he didn't have the time or presence of mind to be careful with his aim, and only tore a flesh wound into the Russian's bicep. This was enough to make Shotmaker drop the front of the weapon though, giving Snake time to scramble away before the booming hammers of the shotgun could be heard following him from around the corner again. He dove underneath the fallen shelf to beat a hasty retreat.
Shotmaker had run out of patience—when Snake disappeared from his sight, he clumsily thumbed slug rounds into the chamber with the hand of his injured arm. He was finished playing with these Americans.
While Snake and Shotmaker were fighting, Fox realized what Snake had been trying to do with the discarded barbed wire spool and picked it up to start blocking off another one of the aisles. If he could just block off another two such that only the aisles at either end of the room were open, he and Snake could corner the Russian and get at him from both sides.
He was just about to toss it over the shelves to the next aisle when he saw Shotmaker stumbling into view, leaning against the wall to prop up his arm so that he could properly aim his shotgun in Fox's direction. Shotmaker's eyes were wide and bloodshot with unrestrained fury, blood pouring down his side.
"There you are, Cyka!" Shotmaker growled, taking aim.
Fox rolled to the side as Shotmaker fired, narrowly avoiding a new hole in his chest. Shotmaker lost his balance as he found himself unable to properly brace for the kick with only one good arm. Fox's eyes widened into his predator's stare as he saw this and took aim with his Beretta, squeezing the trigger four times.
Two of the 9mm rounds tore new holes in Shotmaker's body, one straight through muscle in his abdominal wall and back, and one through his shoulder, narrowly avoiding his heart and ventricles. The other two rounds found purchase in the concrete right behind where his head used to be before Shotmaker threw himself to the side.
Fox would have stormed forward to give the coup de grace, were he not on the wrong side of the barbed wire. Shotmaker crawled away to the next aisle clutching his side while Snake crawled back under the fallen shelf and moved back to the other side of the room and turning towards the wall side aisle where the shelf had fallen from.
As Snake rushed forward, Fox repositioned himself to his adjacent aisle so that when he exited it, he and Snake were both on either side of the Russian mercenary, who was reaching with his good arm to pull the pin from a grenade his weak hand had tugged from his bandolier. Snake kicked it out of his hand before he could touch the pin, knocking Shotmaker onto his back to face the duo as they loomed above him.
"Ah…" Shotmaker sighed, lying back with his hands up. "You got me, Americans. It was a good fight, no? Boss Venom would be proud, don't you think? Ha, ha, ha…" Shotmaker's light laughter trailed off into coughing. Warm blood spurted from between chapped and dust-caked lips. Shotmaker wiped his face, looking at the blood on his smudged fingers with a wan smile.
Shotmaker let his hand flop limply onto the ground. "I am sorry, Comrade Adamska," he muttered. "You chose me…trusted me…and I failed you. I failed Ahab… I can only hope that I trained my men well enough to put down our enemies. Glory…to Outer Heaven…"
Shotmaker's eyes met Snake's. "Do it…" he whispered. "Finish it."
Snake didn't hesitate. He squeezed the trigger. The back of Shotmaker's head exploded onto the dusty concrete. Snake lowered his weapon, and Fox came over to lightly squeeze Snake's shoulder.
"You good, rookie?"
Snake nodded. "Yeah."
"Then, let's go. Your Resistance friends need help."
RESISTANCE RESCUE OPERATION
DAY FOUR – AFTERNOON
SUPPLY STORAGE FACILITY – EXTERIOR WAREHOUSES
It was like they had entered hell. Smoke choked the life out of the pinkish-orange skies as the fires rose from the motor pool outside, giving the sky an angry blood-red hue. The smell of burning meat and hair tangled with the stench of oil fires and shit expelled from the dead at the time of expiration. This, coupled with the chemical cocktail of polyester and asbestos fumes, ensured that the compound would never smell the same again, and the southerly winds made it so that the fires could be seen from as far away as Prince Albert. The fumes would likely poison the local communities for generations, to say nothing of the wildlife which fed them.
But none of this was forefront on the mind of Kyle Schneider as he led his team along the exterior eastern wall of the very same warehouse that Snake had infiltrated just days ago.
The rooftop mortar teams had been invaluable, as the prisoners that Snake had freed had pummeled the APC and tank units leaving the warehouse in addition to those that had survived the firebombing in the motor pool. Now they were raining fire behind Kyle's advancing line, to prevent Outer Heaven's eastern forces from mobilizing and surrounding them while the Resistance pushed forward.
Kyle gritted his teeth as his 24-man team split into four squads of six to clear the warehouses one by one. Each team stacked up on a door alongside two of the four warehouses and moved in to breach and clear each entrance. With the tall shelves and stacked crates everywhere, they were stuck in close quarters, knowing full well that the enemy could get the jump on them from any direction. It didn't help that all the warehouses had metal catwalks high up either, so they had to constantly be on the lookout for attacks from above as well.
Kyle used hand signals to direct the men in his squad while calling out over the radio to the rest of the team. It unnerved him how easy it was to push the mercenaries into a defensive retreat. Not forty-five minutes into the assault, and Kyle found that they had suffered not a single casualty while they were mowing down enemy combatants left and right. It was too easy. Something wasn't right.
It didn't take long for his fears to be proven correct.
When Kyle's Squad A and Squad B climbed up to take the office, there was a short shootout as office workers and mercenary guards took up arms to defend themselves. Once the opposition was put down and they checked all the closets, toilets, and cubicles for anyone hiding, the leader of Squad B called out, "Clear!"
"Clear," Kyle replied into his radio after his squad finished checking the aisles on the bottom floor. "Don't forget to check the roof, in case there are snipers."
"Understood," Squad B acknowledged.
Suddenly, there was a crackle of static as Loyiso's voice burst out of the speaker. "Mortar teams are under attack! We're being suppressed by chopper fire! They've sent in a Blackfoot!"
Kyle swallowed the curse that was forming in his throat. The UTH-66 Blackfoot was a helicopter of Outer Heaven's original design, based on a modified version of the UH-60/S-70A Black Hawk to expand beyond its use as a utility and maritime search-and-rescue vehicle by loading it to the gills in advanced aerial weaponry.
The Blackfoot was a terror of the skies, and all African PMCs feared it as it usually meant a rain of rockets from its rack and 7.62x51mm bullets from its twin miniguns, to say nothing of the complement of highly trained Outer Heaven spec-ops units that they tended to carry into battle.
"Do you have the means to combat it?" Kyle asked, despite already knowing what the answer will be.
"Negative! Trevor had the RPG, but he's been hit and separated from it—"
The sounds of explosions and gunfire interrupted Loyiso. "Trevor, hold on! We're gonna get you out of here! Mbali, cover me! Imke, grab his legs and help me carry him!"
Kyle looked out the window, seeing the chopper swing around the corner of the storage building outside. He turned to his team and barked, "Get some fire on that chopper! We need to give some support to the mortar team!"
Obediently, Squads A and B laid down suppressing fire through the windows, forcing the helicopter to begin evasive maneuvers before turning to address the new threat. Kyle wasted no time in shouting to his radio, "Loyiso, I've just bought you a few seconds! Fall back to Arms Storage on Floor Three!"
"Yes, sir! Thank you, sir!"
There was no further room for conversation as the windows exploded, raining bullets and shattered glass into the office. "Get away from the windows!" shouted one of the Resistance members before he was shredded into a thousand bloody pieces. Squad B moved back out of the office and further into the warehouse before the rooftop caved in above them, taking out another two guerilla fighters before the rest descended the staircase and joining Kyle and Squad A. They sheltered behind the crates towards the center of the warehouse as the Blackfoot rained down fiery hell through the windows and the new hole in the ceiling.
"Squads C and D," Kyle yelled into his radio. "There's a new aerial threat at bearing approximately 140 from your position. We're trying to keep it from harassing our mortar teams so they can retreat to safety, but it's pinning us down now. We cannot regroup on you. Where are you on taking the other warehouse?"
"Acknowledged, Commander! Warehouse 2 is clear! Do you want us to take the heat off of you?"
"Negative! Hunker down and remain where you are. Anyone walking around outside is going to get shredded! Confirm my last!"
"Confirmed, sir!"
Kyle leaned out from behind cover and fired his AK at the tail rotor of the chopper before it could swing back to facing the roof. He and his men moved back to the eastern side of the warehouse before the chopper could return fire with its miniguns.
Loyiso crackled over the radio again. "Sir! We've made it back inside!"
Kyle nodded, motioning for his men to hold fire and stay back. "Good show, Mortar Team! We'll try to keep the Blackfoot occupied but be ready for any fireteams they may land. You may be in for some company soon."
"Understood, sir."
Before Kyle could switch bands to Squads C and D in the other warehouse, another voice joined the noise.
"This is Solid Snake, trying to contact any and all Resistance forces. Is anyone reading me on this channel?"
The American made it out? Kyle pressed his radio button. "This is Team Leader Architect. It's good to hear your voice, Snake."
"Likewise, Architect," Snake replied. "I'm with my friend now. We got a radio off a couple of the mercs down in the basement prison complex. We're green for a counteroffensive."
"That's excellent news, Snake. We could use the help." Kyle smirked despite himself.
"Anything for a friend. What do you need, Architect?"
"The men you freed were supporting us from the roof, but they've been suppressed by enemy air support. We believe they're going to have company shortly, but their bird is keeping us pinned. Maybe you can get to them before the enemy does."
Silence for a moment, save for the spinning rotors and rumbling engine of the Blackfoot outside. Kyle moved up to put his back against the exterior wall and chanced a look out the window to see the bird swinging towards the south-eastern corner of the building before descending just out of view behind the roof.
"Might want to get a move-on, Snake. Looks like that enemy fireteam is coming sooner than later."
"We're on our way," Snake promised.
SUPPLY STORAGE FACILITY
PRISON BASEMENT
Snake and Fox moved through the halls with surgical precision, laying down fire on the Outer Heaven guards as they moved through. With Shotmaker dead though, they didn't have to put in much effort as the enemy's morale started to crumble without their leader. As they moved steadily northward however, the resistance became much fiercer: units of German Shepherds and Belgian Malinois were brought forth alongside their handlers to stymie their progress.
"Agh!" Snake grimaced as he ran to climb a stack of crates to take shots at the approaching canines, putting down two attackers.
Fox ducked as a dog leaped to lunge at him, just barely keeping his arm out of its jaws only for it get purchase on his sleeve instead. In response, Fox wrestled the dog to the ground with his legs before matter-of-factly grabbing the dog's skull by the jaws and behind the ears to savagely wrench it around and break its neck. Once free, Fox rolled up to his knees to shoot another dog in the head and put down a third that was still some paces away.
The Outer Heaven handlers screamed in rage before pulling out their MP5s and spraying bullets in their direction, forcing the two-man team to take cover to wait for a break in the fire.
"Seems like they're not very happy with us," Fox joked dryly.
"Well, we did just kill their dogs," Snake replied. "That's not the sort of thing one takes well." He peeked over the crate when the enemy stopped to reload and took aim with his pistol. "Cover!" he called as he put down fire.
Fox took the opportunity to reload and reposition. "Switch!" he called. Snake crouched to reload while Fox aimed his rifle down range and put down the last of the resistance from the Outer Heaven attack teams.
Once the bullets were no longer flying and things had quieted down, the duo made their way down to the other end of the hallway. "I take it you're a dog lover, Rookie?" Fox asked.
"You could say that," Snake answered. "I've served with a canine soldier once before. They're good teammates. Loyal, dependable. Can't say I like fighting them."
Fox shrugged. "That's fair enough. Doesn't mean you can take it easy, though. These guys will still kill you if you let them."
Snake nodded. "I know."
The duo moved further north, passing by two other cells, whose locks they busted open to arm and set free another two Resistance POWs, Anathi and Katlego, who followed them at the FOXHOUND agents' instruction. "Your comrades need help," Fox told them.
When they reached the last room with the service stairwell, they had to quickly take cover as the room was filled with a sudden burst of flames. When Snake looked out from the concrete pillar he'd put himself behind, he found a fearsome trooper clad in white with a red tank on his back and a black gas mask connected to a breather apparatus. On the left shoulder of the trooper's shirt was the Outer Heaven diamond-studded unit patch, but on the right shoulder was a patch bearing the golden eagle of the German Bundesrepublik with the letters "GSG 9" over the top.
The trooper's mask's yellow reflective eyes glowed with a menacing glare as the trooper spread flames from the nozzle he carried, filling the room with an intense heat that made everyone sweat and flooding the space above them with black, acrid smoke that impaired visibility and made it difficult to breathe.
Snake dove onto the ground to stay beneath the smoke and crawled under a nearby table and behind low concrete barriers to try and get the angle on the fire trooper, who started slowly advancing on the POWs. Fox moved to intercept to keep the trooper from descending on the prisoners they just took the time to free. As Fox returned fire, the fire trooper turned to try at burning the FOXHOUND agent to a crisp, turning his back to face Snake.
Snake took the opportunity to plug the tank on the trooper's back with bullets, causing it to spark and explode. The blast knocked the trooper forward onto the ground, where he rolled desperately to try and put out the chemical fire that was growing on his body. Snake waved to the rest of the team to head to the stairs, and the others gratefully coughed out their thanks as they rushed up the steps. Snake began to follow behind, before feeling the grip of gloved hands around his calf, tripping him up the stairs. Snake turned to point his Beretta at the attacker, only to stop as he saw the trooper, who had pulled off his mask to breathe better.
The trooper was coughing, face covered in third-degree burns, scars, and tears. The cracked lips parted to silently plead for help, only to be interrupted as the man's eye was exploded by a bullet, leaving a single bloody tear down his face. A thin trail of smoke rose from Snake's Beretta, but Snake was more focused on the visage he had just destroyed.
The face that looked at him now belonged to his friend Sniper Rat. But how? Rat was back at FOXHOUND when Snake last saw him; and that was only about a week ago! He shook his head—it didn't make sense. It couldn't be real. But the GSG9 patch on his shoulder definitely wasn't fake. So how could it be?
"Rat?" Snake whispered, his voice sounding millions of miles away. His hands were shaking. He hadn't hesitated, not having seen the face clearly until he'd already pulled the trigger.
But the remaining eye of the face that looked at him showed no recognition, only confusion and desperation as the man's lungs tried desperately to cling to oxygen as what was left of his brain realized that it and his body was dead.
"What the hell?" Snake whispered in shock. "What the hell, what the hell?"
A pair of strong hands hauled Snake to his feet before smacking some sense into him. Snake was forced to regard Fox's grim face and predator's eyes as he came to his senses. "You good?" Fox demanded.
Snake nodded, joining his team as they moved up the stairwell. He looked back behind him at the body they abandoned to the smoke, unnerved by the pleading one-eyed stare of Rat looking back at him.
SUPPLY STORAGE FACILITY – SECOND FLOOR
PERSONNEL AND STORAGE FACILITIES
The stairs leading up to the third floor had collapsed, forcing Snake and Fox's team to get off at the second floor into a pitched battle. The four POWs that were held on the second floor had already broken out and together with another two Resistance members, they were taking positions on the eastern side of the building near the storage rooms trying to keep Outer Heaven from approaching from the west side to get to the elevator and stairwell on the northwest.
The Outer Heaven troops didn't expect to find Snake, Fox, Katlego and Anathi to surprise them from the rear, putting pressure on them from both sides. With overwhelming force, the Resistance was able to quickly put down the Outer Heaven ground troops.
"Who's in charge here?" Fox demanded.
A woman raised her hand. "Imke," she said, shaking Fox's hand. "I've taken command of the operation to release the Floor 2 troops and we're defending the stairwell from attacks from below."
"Impressive," Fox praised. "But your people up top are in need of aid."
Imke nodded. "I know. We need to keep the lower approaches covered until Kyle and his team gets here, though."
"That's where we come in," said Snake. "Were you able to obtain any anti-air ordinance upstairs?"
Imke nodded. "There are some RPGs. A couple of Stingers. If you're taking on that helicopter, I'd recommend the Stingers."
"Got it," Snake nodded. "We're going to need you to hunker down here. We'll take care of the mosquito, but if we get hit from behind, we're going to be toast."
"I can do that," Imke replied confidently. "Do what you need to."
Snake looked to Fox. "Let's go," he said.
"Snake," Imke said, causing the FOXHOUND agents to stop momentarily. "Glad to see you made it out. Thanks for helping us."
"Save your thanks for after we win," Snake said with a smirk as he and Fox strode up the stairs two at a time. Snake hefted the SPAS-12 that he'd lifted from Shotmaker and took point as they slowly approached the door into the third floor.
When they reached the third-floor doorway, they almost ran straight into two Outer Heaven mercs dressed in olive drab fatigues making their way from upstairs. Snake blasted the first one point-blank with slugs from his shotgun, while the other rushed forward to grab the barrel shroud and force Snake to point it away.
Rather than fight for control of the shotgun, Snake let go of the trigger to shove the merc off-balance before grabbing his shirt with both hands and twisting his hips to throw the man over his shoulders and down the stairs before drawing his Beretta to quickly put two shots in the man's chest and one in his head.
Behind him, Fox leaned over the crouching form of Snake to put rounds up the stairway, forcing the strike team to retreat back onto the roof. Fox handed the shotgun back to Snake. "I'll get you your Stinger," Fox said. "Get up there!"
Snake nodded and pushed up the stairs while Fox rushed into the third-floor arms storage. When Snake's feet hit the reinforced BUR roof, he immediately put slugs downrange to buy himself room to move, taking down a third merc as he did so.
The spec-ops mercenaries responded by putting down a hail of gunfire as he exited onto the roof, forcing him to find cover. The winds were high, and Snake gripped the low brick barrier he hid behind, hoping that the gusts wouldn't throw him off-balance while he thumbed more slugs into the shotgun's internal tube magazine. Snake cursed. He only had 8 rounds left, not counting the one in the chamber. He'd have to make them count.
He quickly glanced at his ammo for the Beretta; two spare 15-round magazines left, plus another ten rounds loaded and an eleventh in the chamber. He peeked over the barrier he was using for cover: the remainder of the strike team was composed of six heavily armed Outer Heaven troopers, three of whom were armed with that strange, modified rifle he had seen when he'd raided the machine shop on the third floor a few days ago. Two of them had the underbarrel grenade launcher attachment that his had had.
Two others were armed with shotguns, and the last man, a large burly individual who appeared to be the team leader based on his hand gestures to the rest of the team, carried what looked to be an M249 SAW with a box magazine, and a FN P90 submachine gun hung from a strap around his shoulders. On the man's chest was a patch which Snake could read even at this distance, containing the letters "MGK" in big, bold, white letters.
The MGK man got down on one knee behind another barrier and propped the tripod of his SAW onto it to start raining down suppressing fire on Snake's position, forcing his head down while the strike team started moving on him. Snake blind-fired his Beretta around the corner closest to him until he'd expended the magazine, then used the break in the fire to lean around and put a couple of slugs into a shotgunner and another three into one of the riflemen with the grenade launchers.
Then he saw the other one switch his trigger finger to the launcher and point up his weapon at a slight angle. Snake dove away from the corner and crawled quickly away just in time for the bricks at the place he was at just moments before to blow apart behind him.
When Snake reached the other end of the barrier and got to his knees, the other shotgunner was just swinging around to face him, only to get two slugs at point-blank range for his trouble, causing him to fly back. Snake quickly followed up by swinging the barrel of his shotgun around the corner and firing his last slug at the other grenadier, who ducked behind an air conditioning unit.
Snake threw away his empty shotgun and quickly reloaded his Beretta, yanking back the slide to load a round. He reached out to the leg of the shot gunner he'd killed, yanking his arm back when more bullets pelted the ground where his arm had just been.
Blind-firing five times around the corner, he reached out again to grab the shotgunner's ankle and yanked the body to him behind the barrier. On the shotgunner's belt were two pineapple frag grenades and two smoke grenades. Snake grinned at his luck—a toothy predator's smile.
He went for the smoke grenades first, pulling the pins and throwing both over the low wall before peeking up to take another few shots down range to keep the riflemen from getting any funny ideas before putting his head back down in the wake of more machine gun fire. He'd really need to do something about that SAW.
He grabbed the pineapples as grey smoke rose up from the rooftop and ran out from cover to rush the rifleman closest to him, gripping the barrel shroud and pointing the rifle into a safe direction while jamming the Beretta into the man's knee and squeezing the trigger. The mercenary screamed in pain as his kneecap exploded. Snake took the opportunity to yank the rifle from the man's hands while driving him back with a kick to the gut and followed up by ripping through the man's torso with several rifle rounds.
Snake circled the smoke cloud, pieing the area behind it until the other grenadier was in his sights. He took down the last rifleman before he could notice him. Now it was just Snake and the team leader. They saw each other at the same time. The TL turned his SAW towards Snake, but the FOXHOUNDer was already taking cover behind another brick barrier and crawling as the rounds ripped through the wall above him, waiting patiently for the TL to reload or run out of ammo, whichever came first.
Then he heard it—the silence that was just a couple of seconds too long. No more bullets. Snake popped up and threw his grenades at the machine gunner. The TL was surprised and dropped his heavy SAW so that he could quickly run to avoid the shrapnel explosions behind him, mangling the discarded weapon.
Snake smirked. They were on more or less equal footing now. He took up a firing position behind an air conditioning unit and waited for MGK to show his face. He didn't disappoint, rolling out to release a spray from his P90 forcing Snake to get down and move to the opposite corner of the air conditioner just as MGK reached his position.
Snake circled around and came up behind MGK, yelling "Freeze!"
MGK, surprised, put his hands up, the P90 dangling on his thumb.
"Weapon on the ground, now!" Snake commanded. "Slowly."
MGK nodded slowly, deliberately crouching, and moving as if to drop the SMG from his thumb before the sound of rotors and engine screaming overhead, forcing Snake to turn his head away to watch as the Blackfoot swung overhead to turn its miniguns toward the roof.
MGK took the opportunity to spin around and landed a roundhouse kick on Snake's torso, sending him stumbling while MGK turned his P90 onto Snake.
"Looks like you're the one who's lost, mate. Not owt you can do now," said the man in a thick Manchester accent from behind a thick moustache and a toothy smile. "How's about you quit your strop and lay down arms, eh?"
Snake noted the patch on MGK's right shoulder: the winged knife. The merc was former SAS. He thought of the Fire Trooper, and of Shotmaker. SAS, GSG9, Spetsnaz…how is Venom able to get his hands on such top-tier talent?
Now it was Snake's turn to place his rifle on the ground. MGK moved forward and pulled the Beretta from Snake's hip and tossed it aside. "No sudden movements, now," he growled.
A bullet whizzed past them both, and they turned their heads to see Gray Fox leaning out of the doorway. Snake recovered first, grabbing the P90 and shoving the muzzle underneath MGK's chin with one hand and drawing his Bowie knife with the other to stab MGK's trigger hand. Snake dropped the knife to force his thumb into the trigger guard.
"Who dares, wins," Snake taunted through gritted teeth, before pushing down the trigger and turning MGK's head into bone splinters and paste.
Unfortunately, without the mercenary for leverage, there was nothing keeping the Blackfoot from firing on the roof. Snake wasted no time, sprinting to the opposite end of the roof while the miniguns spooled up and dove into a storage room at the far northeastern side as the chopper ripped into the roof behind him.
Gray Fox hefted the FIM-92C Stinger missile he'd hauled up the stairs with him and used Snake's distraction to get a lock on the Blackfoot and fire the missile at the chopper. Immediately the Blackfoot backed away from the roof to begin evasive maneuvers and released flares to make the infrared missile careen off course and explode harmlessly into the ground just outside the base.
"Shit," Fox cursed as the chopper swung its tail to face the new threat.
Snake pushed out of the storage room, carrying an RPG launcher over his shoulder that he'd found inside. No infrared, but the chopper was close enough overhead as it brought its miniguns to bear on the FOXHOUNDer who'd fired on it that Snake figured he could trust his own aim. He waited until the chopper was just overhead so it had the largest projection in his direction before firing, clouding up and shaking the room behind him with the backblast.
The rocket grenade hit its mark, blowing up the tail rotor and sending the Blackfoot spinning as it fell towards the sole surviving helipad on the southeastern corner of the roof. Sparks flung in every direction as the main propeller sliced into the ground and the body of the metal bird slammed full force into the helipad, breaking it off of the building and sending both it and the aircraft tumbling to the earth below with a fiery boom.
Snake dropped the spent RPG from his shoulder, panting as he fell back against the wall and slid down onto his rear. Fox jogged up to him.
"You got him," he said.
Snake nodded, out of breath. "Yeah."
"You broken?"
Snake shook his head. "I'm good. Just…just need a minute."
"Well, make it quick," Fox commanded, offering his hand. "We've still got work to do."
Snake nodded, grabbing Fox's arm to pull him up before hailing Kyle on the radio. "Come in, Architect. This is Snake. Do you read me?"
"This is Architect. Send it, Snake."
Snake breathed out a long a long, deep breath before answering. "Blackfoot destroyed. You're clear to advance. We took out a huge chunk of internal resistance inside the building, too. You should be good to mop up the rest on your end."
"Roger, Snake. Thanks for the assist. We'll take care of the rest from here. Looking forward to shaking your hand."
"Wouldn't miss it," Snake said, signing off.
He then tuned the radio to the proprietary frequency for mission control.
"Mission Control, this is Solid Snake reporting in. Do you read me?"
There was a short moment of silence.
"Mission Control, this is Solid Snake. Do you read?"
"This is Mission Control," Big Boss's voice responded. "There's been no report for three days, Snake. What happened?"
"Ran into a minor snag," Snake responded. "Got captured. But I'm free now, and so is Gray Fox. He's right here with me."
"That's excellent news," Big Boss said, sounding relieved.
"Would you like to speak with him?" Snake asked.
"In a moment," Big Boss replied. "How did you two escape? Did the enemy learn of your identity?"
"Yes and no," Snake answered. "They know we're American, but they believe we're rival mercenaries. They don't know why we're here or who sent us. They probably think the Resistance hired us, considering what's happened today."
"Elaborate."
"Our asset in the Resistance leadership led an assault on the supply storage facility where we were being held, which gave Fox and I an opportunity to escape," Snake explained. "We returned the favor by helping them take the building. The east side of Outer Heaven is theirs for the time being, along with all the armaments and supplies contained therein."
"I don't know how long they'll be able to keep it," he continued, "but I intend to make use of it as a distraction while I move onto the second objective of locating and rescuing Dr. Madnar. Our asset is mopping up what's left of the enemy resistance now. I'll gear up and make my way forward after that."
"I see. Good job, Snake. Excellent work."
"Thank you, sir," Snake said, trying not let it show on his face how pleased he was by the praise as he straightened up. "I'm going to go check on the released POWs to see what they need for their defenses. I'm handing you off to Fox for a debrief."
Snake handed Gray Fox the radio and made his way back to the stairwell to help the mortar team reset their defenses. Some of the more newly released POWs had obtained sniper rifles from the armories and set up positions alongside the eastern, northern, and southern edges of the roof.
As Fox watched Snake work, he spoke into the radio. "Boss. This is Gray Fox," he said.
"It's good to hear your voice, Fox. I apologize for the circumstances you were put in."
"I knew what I'd signed up for, sir," Fox replied. "I just didn't expect you to send a rookie after me."
"Not entirely my choice, but given the situation, he was the best pick with what I had to work with."
Big Boss paused. "What's your estimation of him? How's he doing so far?" he asked.
Gray Fox watched over his junior as he assisted the rebels in setting up their rooftop fortifications. "The kid's got talent," he said. "No denying it. He's got a lot of potential. But he's still young and green. The ugly side hadn't yet left its mark when I met him. When he looks into the abyss, he blinks first. And he acts like he's got something to prove."
"Do you doubt his conviction?"
"It's not his conviction I'm worried about," Fox said. "It's his nerve to see it through, no matter what it takes."
"Do you think he'll survive?"
"After today, I'd say I like his chances better than when I first laid eyes on him," Fox answered. "But it's still a toss-up. He hasn't been made to give up everything yet. We'll just have to wait and see what he does."
Fox stepped over to the western end of the roof to survey the burning motor pool and the torn-up warehouses as Kyle and his men rush into the supply storage building. "But I will say this," Fox said. "If I were a betting man, I wouldn't bet against him."
MEANWHILE, ELSEWHERE...
A knock on the door. A command to enter. The report is delivered: the rebels have captured the Arms Storage Building. The motor pool has been destroyed. The on-site armor column and troop transport has been decimated, and the surviving tanks and APCs are now under Resistance control. One of the Blackfoots have been destroyed. Final casualty count is approximately 250 lives lost to the Resistance's estimated troop strength of 45.
Shotmaker, the Flame Trooper, and the Machine Gun Kid are all dead. The Flame Trooper is especially awkward; he was the trade given to Outer Heaven in return for letting FOXHOUND claim the sniper. Now they were in the unfortunate position of having to arrange for FOXHOUND to inform their new recruit that his brother is dead.
The messenger is dismissed with the Demon's thanks.
The Demon growled a heavy sigh, expelling smoke. All was not lost, though the fact that the rebels had gained a tiny foothold into his domain was not a fact for which he felt no shame. Not to mention the fact that there was no way to collect the dead for as long as the area was occupied. The Demon cast a cloudy glare over the distant, blackened flames. Those men deserved to be burned and pressed into diamonds for their comrades to carry into battle, as was their custom; not to lay abandoned and anonymous inside their own home.
The Demon's fingers curled and grasped with restrained rage and sorrow as he remembered the words:
'Come unto me, my brother kin,
Whose bravery be set among the stars.'
So saith the old hanged man
To the empty graveyard stalls…
It was the last four lines of a poem penned by the Demon himself, ever since he first learned of his true nature. He carried it with him in his heart as he rode forth into battle with his legions of hell, soaking themselves in the blood of the innocent and the guilty alike. It helped remind him of why he fought, and his reason to live. The hated words were both comfort and cruelty in equal measure because he knew that once known, he could never let himself forget.
The Demon put out the command: tomorrow before first light, the reserve tank and two APCs with an escort team would be sent from the medical pavilion outside of R&D to assault the captured Rebel strong point. The armored column near Johannesburg would be recalled to replace the lost. Best case scenario, the reserve team would retake the building. Worst case, they could buy time and prevent the Rebels from making any further advance before the recalled convoy arrives to clean the place up. The leader was wanted alive if possible, dead if not.
The Demon had permitted the Resistance's existence for too long. It was time they were dealt with. If Outer Heaven could successfully capture their leadership, their resolve would crumble, removing any further distractions from the ultimate goal. Speaking of which…
The lead engineers are summoned. A question is asked: how long before Metal Gear's completion?
An estimation is given: three days.
The Demon is pleased. Three days until total conquest. Three days until the Demon can unleash his heaven, his Valhalla, upon the world. In three days, no one, not even the disciple, will be able to stand in his way.
The cloudy thunderstorm in the Demon's eye crackled as it warmly regarded this new beginning.
OPERATION INTRUDE N313
DAY FOUR – DUSK
SUPPLY STORAGE FACILITY ROOF
The sun glowed a fiery orange and painted the sky with pinkish hues as it set over the newly captured Resistance territory. Men and women rushed to and fro throughout the building as resources were quickly gathered and secured. A small team of guerillas loaded speed boats and Kodiaks with crates of weapons and supplies to carry south down the river for the night raid while new teams arrived by river to help load the few surviving trucks for the long night drive back to headquarters.
They couldn't move as a single boat fleet or truck convoy—they didn't have the firepower to protect every vehicle at once if Outer Heaven forces found them. So, they would leave one vehicle at a time in small groups to transport their prizes back to Kyle's second-in-command.
Kyle himself stayed behind in the supply storage building with his raiding team and the newly released POWs to set up a base camp in the storage facility proper and turn it into a more defensible position. Outer Heaven was going to want their property back while he milked this place for all it was worth, Kyle was sure of it. It was only a matter of time before they retaliated—it was just a question of whether the resources came from Outer Heaven HQ or from one of its forward operating bases. Regardless, they needed to be ready.
Kyle gripped his binoculars as he lay next to one of his sniper-spotter teams on the east side of the roof. From a distance, he watched little ants scurry along the ground around tiny toy vehicles. His intelligence told him they had some armor stationed at R they'd need to make use of the mortars and anti-tank weapons. They may have one or two more choppers, too. Would they come under cover of night? He didn't see them loading any floodlights, but he couldn't assume.
"What do you see?"
Kyle looked up from his binoculars behind his shoulder to see Snake crouching beside him. Kyle couldn't help but feel some admiration for the man—without him, none of this would have been possible, and Kyle knew it. The two Americans have been instrumental in helping them set up their defenses as well. Not that Kyle would ever admit it to him, of course. Still, some thanks was in order. He'd have to find a way to pay him back, he thought to himself.
Kyle handed the binoculars to the spy so that he could take in the view for himself. "My person on the inside tells us they have at least one tank and a couple of armored personnel carriers on-base. I suspect they'll send them our way under cover of darkness."
"Hm," Snake grunted in agreement. "It's what I'd do."
Snake scanned the horizon around the towering R&D building. To the right was a massive parking lot with the tank, APCs, a few Jeeps, and trucks. Behind it was a series of white tents and smaller buildings. Snake pointed.
"What's with the tents?" he asked.
"That's the Medical Pavilion," Kyle replied. "A field hospital where they take in any injured mercenaries, POWs, and civilians extracted from the northern zones of conflict in Sub-Saharan Africa. After triage and initial treatment, the ones who aren't able to continue fighting are sent to the Medical Wing." He pointed to a building next door to R&D, just outside the exterior concrete wall.
"You say 'POW' as an official term. Does Outer Heaven actually have the legal authority to keep prisoners of war as an NGO?" Snake asked curiously.
"Does it matter? They clearly do anyway, regardless of how the UN feels about it."
Snake hummed in acknowledgement, scanning over further to the right. "I see manufactured buildings. Trailers."
"Personnel housing. You see the larger building just behind it, a little further south? That's Administration."
"Where Venom works…"
Kyle nodded. "Ostensibly, that is where his office is."
"You're not likely to find him there, though," Fox said, coming up behind them and putting a hand on Snake's shoulder. "Like I said before, Ahab's been taking a very hands-on approach to overseeing Metal Gear's development."
"My on-site intel backs that up," Kyle agreed. "I've been getting reports that Venom had set up a make-shift office and living quarters at the bunker, and he's been seen coming and going from R&D every day."
Snake shifted his view left past the fuel and chemical tanks outside the R&D building to the bunker a few clicks north. Multiple Blackfoot helicopters were lined up just in front of the building's main entrance alongside four AA gun batteries, next to a flagpole which flew a black flag with Outer Heaven's skull logo emblazoned in white.
"A lot of empty space between R&D and the bunker," Snake commented. "Some serious air power, too. Is another way inside the building besides the overland route?"
Kyle shook his head. "Not that I know of, but I've also never been to the east end of the base, and the bunker started construction shortly before I left."
Snake looked to Gray Fox.
"I never got a chance to see the weapon with my own eyes," Fox said, shrugging. "All of my patrols were either outside or in the lower floors of the R&D building near the lobby."
"Didn't you meet Dr. Madnar, though? Didn't he know?"
"They'd provided him with an office near his cell to examine samples and perform draft and design work, but they've always kept him as far from the actual construction as they could. Those design documents you saw in the microfiche were lifted directly from his office, and it was when I was making contact with him that I got caught."
"I see…" Snake trailed off.
Kyle looked between the two Americans. So, Snake was sent in to rescue Fox only because the first spy failed his mission and got caught. But what was this Metal Gear they kept talking about? Some kind of weapon? Whatever it is, it's clear that this was the real mission for Snake all along, and that rescuing Kyle's people was only ever incidental to its success.
Snake looked over the terrain between them and R&D. The R&D building was positioned at the top of a cliff surrounded by trees, with a dirt road winding down and curving towards them. Before the cliff was about ten kilometers of flat desert landscape, lit up in a glowing golden-brown beneath the sun. Besides some low acacia trees and short grass, there wasn't much between here and there. Snake would stick out like a sore thumb. He also saw some squat wooden buildings and trucks dotting the landscape here and there along the road leading up to the cliff.
"What are those buildings in the desert?" Snake asked.
"Kill houses. Outer Heaven uses the desert as training grounds for urban and desert warfare," Fox explained. "They're live-fire courses too, so they're likely to have some ordnance onsite. Could be useful."
"It's about the only cover for miles between here and R&D," Snake grumbled with a sigh. He stood up. "Seems like my best bet is going to be moving under cover of night and staying near the kill houses during the day. With the Resistance holing up here, I doubt Outer Heaven's going to want to make use of them so close to enemy territory. It's basically no-man's land."
"You're planning on going out there?" Kyle asked.
"That's the mission," Snake grunted.
So, Kyle was right. This was the plan all along. Was this why Snake went out of his way to rescue Kyle's men? To use them as a distraction while he infiltrated further into Outer Heaven? Just like all the other Americans—only helping you when they want something in return. Kyle clenched his fists.
He looked back at his mortar teams. He could just arrange his men to pack up what they could and leave now. They wouldn't be able to completely empty this facility like he fantasized, but he could guarantee their safety and still come out with some materiel and a black eye for Outer Heaven, an undeniable victory.
But Snake did help them, even though he never had to—the only person he needed to rescue was this 'Gray Fox' character. He kept up his end of the bargain. Besides, if the rebels pulled out early now, they'd miss an invaluable opportunity to strike back at Outer Heaven, maybe even put them down for good.
Kyle got up from his prone position and sat up to look at Snake properly. "Snake," Kyle said slowly. "You helped us. I won't forget that. But if you're about to ask me to put my men at risk for you, then I need to know: why are you really here? It's not just for your American friend."
Snake looked over to Fox with a questioning glance. Fox glared back and nodded. Tell him what you must, he seemed to be saying. But be careful.
Snake looked back to Kyle. "Outer Heaven's working on a weapon. A big one. Something that could be a threat to the whole world in the wrong hands."
"So, you were sent to capture it? To put it in the 'right hands?' And whose hands are the right ones? America's?" Kyle asked, narrowing his eyes.
Snake shook his head. "No, nobody should have this thing they're putting together. I've been sent to destroy it."
Kyle looked skeptically from Snake to Fox, then back to Snake. "And Venom? What's your interest in him?"
Snake glared. "He's the mission," he repeated. "He is to die."
Kyle felt grim satisfaction. A chance to put his family's spirits at peace. He once more looked to his men going about their work. This could be the chance they were waiting for. Were they going to take it? Kyle closed his eyes and breathed in and out, slowly. If he was going to make this decision, he needed to know it was for the right reasons.
When Kyle's eyes opened, he was smiling. His eyes held a determined flame. He reached out with open hand to Snake. "I'll help you," he said. "We'll keep the enemy occupied while you make your approach."
Snake shook the offered hand. "I appreciate that, Kyle." He looked to Gray Fox. "Fox, will you stay behind and help them fight? Organize their extraction?"
Fox nodded. "Consider it done…Snake."
Snake looked out over the rooftop as the sun hung lower in the sky. "Okay," he said. "Here's how this is going to work. Eastern exterior entrances were cut off and destroyed in the fighting. While we were taking inventory down below, I saw parachutes. I'm going to jump off the roof and go for an aerial insertion into the desert tonight, try to make it to the kill houses by morning."
Kyle leaned over the edge. "Good thing you're not afraid of heights," he joked.
Snake chuckled. "If I'm lucky, I might meet the tank convoy halfway. If I get a chance, maybe I'll get an opportunity to sabotage one of their vehicles, soften them up for you."
"When you get up the cliff, look for a woman named Jennifer working as a combat medic at the Medical Pavilion," Kyle said. "She's my informant, and she's got her own network of spies inside the R&D building. If anyone knows of an alternate entrance to the bunker, it's going to be her."
Kyle grabbed a pencil and a scrap of paper from a passing rebel and wrote down a radio frequency, handing it to Snake. "This is another informant. A musician named Diane. She's been active in the personnel facilities and can keep you apprised of troop movements."
"A musician?" Snake asked.
"She was once a vocalist in a popular local punk band called Thin Wall," elaborated Kyle. "They were a big part of the anti-Apartheid protest movement, though they later disbanded when Outer Heaven started to take notice of their populist anti-authoritarian activities and started to see them as a threat. She remains popular with some of the soldiers here though and uses her charms to get information for us. She may be useful to you."
Snake nodded. "Thanks, Architect."
He looked to both men. "Alright, we're all clear on the plan?" Snake asked. When both men voiced their agreement, Snake said, "Okay then. Let's get to work."
A/N: Apologies for the long wait. Shortly after my vacation last month I experienced a death in the family. Between all that and my regular job besides, I wasn't left with much time/mental capacity for writing fic. I'm doing better now though, and ready to get back to it. This chapter was basically a series of war scenes. While Metal Gear is primarily a stealth game, action has always been a part of the Metal Gear formula and in the Metal Gear Solid saga at least, his allies have always been active participants in his missions. Considering that his mission control team in the OG Metal Gear was mostly composed of an active resistance faction against Outer Heaven and Snake himself said in MGS that in MG he was still green and Fox "showed him the ropes," I figured it would be weird if Fox and the Rebels weren't actively shown fighting here.
There's also the added benefit that it contributes to the themes of American interventionism, the mistrust it rightfully engenders and the nature of intelligence work since stirring up revolutions among the locals of an enemy regime to get them to do the fighting for you is kind of the US government's whole MO if the history of the CIA is anything to go by, so it fits that Snake's freeing of POWs would come with the side benefit of getting the Resistance involved to take some of the heat off him as he makes his way further into Outer Heaven.
Fun fact: While writing this story, I often have Google maps open to get a physical sense of the geography of a place and I use the maps of the Metal Gear levels for inspiration. In the early parts of the story during Snake's training, I even drew maps of the bases and buildings Snake infiltrated so that I could keep his movements across the locations consistent. For Outer Heaven, I decided to place Outer Heaven on the banks of a river somewhere northeast of Tankwa Karoo National Park.
Next chapter should hopefully come with less downtime in between than this one had. Fingers crossed.