RESISTANCE OPERATION: JUDGMENT DAY
1535 HOURS
OUTER HEAVEN WEST, RESISTANCE F.O.B. BEGINNING TRANSIT
"Armored Humvees in front, transport trucks in back, Jeeps in between," Kyle barked into his radio as the Rebels boarded their vehicles and the motorists scrambled into formation while rolling out of the eastern shutter doors of the hangar. "Humvee machine gunners, focus fire on the trucks; rocket men, aim your RPGs at the rear of the tanks on approach—try to hit the auxiliary fuel tanks and knock off the treads! Missing or hitting anything else is a waste of ammo, as the rockets won't penetrate the armor."
"As soon as those tanks stop moving, get clear," Fox followed up. "Unless you get lucky and start a fire near the engines, the crew will still have control of the main gun, and they'll be looking to use it. Once we take out the tanks, prioritize moving to the bunker; the more numbers we have when linking up with teams Four and Seven, the better."
The Rebels checked their weapons; all .50 caliber machine guns mounted on the Humvees had full ammo boxes with a spare held by the rear seat passengers. The less armored and slightly faster Jeeps had two men with RPGs with four rockets between them, not counting the armament already loaded in the rocket launchers. Every guerilla fighter was equipped with a rifle, pistol, and three fragmentation grenades and body armor looted from Supply Storage, and there were roughly six men among them trained in demolitions packing C4s.
They were about as ready as they could possibly be for the engagement. Many of the Rebels were silently praying, others' hands were shaking violently. Their usual modus operandi was indirect engagement and hit and run tactics—a full frontal assault was outside their normal realm of expertise. Everyone was on edge.
"We'll try to pass them once, then circle back around for another shot before moving on to engage the prototype vehicle at the bunker," Kyle continued, "We're only going to get two shots to stymie the Outer Heaven reinforcements before we arrive at our destination; any more than that is pushing our luck. Once we arrive, the armored vehicles will engage with the enemy prototype vehicle and infantry while the transport trucks will gather the survivors of RTs Four and Seven. Once all the trucks are loaded, we'll start making our retreat out of Outer Heaven with the armored vehicles covering our rear. Move northeast past the bunker and away from the river—we don't want to chance attracting Outer Heaven transports from the Sakrivier station. Is everyone clear on the plan?"
"Yes, commander," came the unanimous reply as the vehicles dumped out into the desert of No-Man's Land, kicking up dust as the front vehicles guided them through the minefield.
"Good luck, everyone," Kyle said, gritting his teeth. "Today, we win our victory. Today, we will destroy Outer Heaven!"
Kyle climbed into the passenger seat of one of the Humvees, next to Gray Fox. Fox gunned the motor and joined the rest of the armored vehicles in the front. The convoy fanned out in an arrowhead shape, moving northeast at high speeds, quickly gaining on the enemy armor.
Within ten minutes, they were coming up on the rear of what was left of Outer Heaven's armor column. They drove in the wake of the dust cloud that the enemy convoy kicked up, which obscured their view but also gave them a brief moment of surprise.
"Rocket men, be careful where you place your shots," Kyle warned over radio for the second time. "Look to the tanks first—our goal is to stop them from moving. Threat priority is tanks, APCs, and technicals, in that order."
Fox made out a shadowy figure ahead of them in the dust cloud, poking its head out from one of the Jeeps. It was waving and pointing at them.
"They've seen us!" Fox called out. He jerked the wheel and swerved the Humvee to evade and drive in front of the less-armored Jeeps behind them as .50 caliber rounds sailed through the air towards the Rebels. The Rebel gunners responded in kind with their own machine gun turrets, forcing the enemy Jeeps to separate.
As the Resistance fighters and the Outer Heaven reinforcements weaved in and out of each other's fire, Kyle motioned to the backseat, and one of the men in the back handed the RPG-7 launcher to the gunner up top through the porthole. The gunner aimed for one of the tanks, shouted "Backblast clear," and pulled the trigger while the passengers inside the Humvee covered their ears. The rocket-propelled grenade flew to the rear of the nearest tank, missing the fuel tanks hanging on the rear and impacting against the armor of the main gun turret. The gunner fed the empty launcher back down to the other passengers and shouted, "Reload," before grabbing the handles of his MG once more.
The other Rebels followed the lead Humvee's example, and were firing their own rockets, many of which either sailed harmlessly into the desert sand, with the couple that made it through slamming into the tanks' armor. One rocket exploded one of the enemy's Jeeps, which took a hit that would have nailed the fuel tanks.
In response, the enemy's vehicles spread out, with the tanks angling their side and front armor towards the Rebels. They aimed their cannons at their attackers and Kyle screamed into his radio, "Evasive maneuvers!"
He looked left at Gray Fox. "Swing us around behind them!" He called out behind him, "Is the launcher reloaded?"
"Yes, sir!"
Kyle motioned for them to hand the launcher back to the gunner. "We're making another pass. Be ready to fire!"
Fox and Kyle didn't wait for their response, as Fox steered hard into a sharp turn that nearly caused the top-heavy Humvee to roll, and gave the tanks a wide berth. All of the Rebel vehicles worked to circle around the tanks, dodging tank shells and .50 bullets from the opposition. The Outer Heaven reinforcements worked to cut off the Rebel vehicles at every turn, to keep themselves from getting surrounded while they continued their forward progression towards the bunker.
The rear passengers passed the RPG back to the gunner, and as Fox swung behind the first tank, the Rebel took his shot, exploding the auxiliary fuel tanks hanging on the back of the chassis. "Direct hit to target," the gunner reported, dropping the launcher back down to the rear passengers to reload. He ducked as machine gun fire whizzed past his ears, then violently yanked the MG to swing it back around to the offending enemy APC gunner. He got a few shots off before catching a couple of rounds in his torso, tearing him in half and sending his arm flying. He slumped into the Humvee, and the rear passengers started giving him medical attention.
Kyle picked up his rifle. "Keep it steady," he told Fox. Fox nodded as Kyle climbed out the open window to fire on the APC gunner, grazing the top of the enemy's head. Fox climbed back inside in time to see the disabled tank angling its cannon at them.
"The cannon!" Kyle shouted.
"I see it," Fox replied calmly. At the last second, he swerved, narrowly avoiding the tank shell that careened past him and cratered in front of them, showering their vehicle with dirt and covering their windshield.
"Step on it," Kyle said. "Get us out of that cannon's range!"
They heard an explosion behind them, and the rear passengers looked out their windows to see that the disabled tank had caught fire. The crew hatch opened, the tank crew evacuating from the fiery husk before they could be cooked within the armor. The evacuating enemies were picked off by a rifleman hanging out of a passing Rebel Jeep, which swerved to avoid a shell from the other surviving tank.
"Someone get on that other tank," Kyle commanded over radio. "We've finished our second pass. Once the next attack on the second tank is up, follow after us and keep moving to the bunker!"
"Understood, Commander," came the reply.
The transport trucks and a couple of Humvees closest to Kyle's and Fox's vehicle split off from the main group to continue onward toward the bunker while those remaining continued to harass the other tank and its escort. A couple of Outer Heaven troopers saw what was happening and a few enemy Jeeps broke off to pursue.
Gray Fox and the other Humvees let the transport trucks move ahead of the more armored vehicles while the Humvees acted as a buffer. Kyle leaned over his shoulder to address the backseat.
"How many more rockets do we have?" he demanded.
The two Rebels sitting next to the standing gunner were firing out of their respective passenger windows. One of them glanced over his shoulder into the floorboard at the rockets leaning against the seat. He held up two fingers and shouted, "two, sir!" before turning back around to continue firing.
Kyle looked up at the gunner. "Aim for the drivers of those technicals," he roared over the gunfire. "If you need to, you can use one rocket, but we need to save whatever ordnance we can for that prototype hassling Four and Seven! How copy?"
The gunner screamed over the sound of his machine gun, "Yes, sir!"
Gray Fox swerved and put them in the path of a transport truck. The troops in the truck returned fire over the Humvee's roof at the opposition Jeep, forcing their gunner to duck. Fox looked around the leading truck, seeing the bunker entrance slowly coming into view. He pointed through the windshield and shouted to Kyle, "We're coming up on them. Get Teams Four and Seven on the horn."
An explosion impacted just next to one of the transport trucks. The Rebels looked to see the gunner of the APC reloading a rocket launcher. As the enemy launched his rocket, one of the Humvees swerved to get between the APC and the truck, taking the hit and turning the vehicle into an inferno. Kyle's gunner swung his MG around its turret and sprayed fire over the APC, taking out the RPG man and the MG gunner mounted on the APC's roof.
Kyle gripped his radio. "RT-4, RT-7! We're coming up on your position! What's your status?"
A burst of static and gunfire erupted over the radio waves. "This is 4-1," cried Sibusiso, "We're getting overrun! That strange hovering tank has us all scattered, and we have several men down. There's only seven of us left. There are a few of us mounted on Walker Gears trying to keep that tank distracted, but it's not going well."
"This is 7-1," joined Luke's voice. "7-2 and I are both on Walker Gears. That thing has a rear exterior camera, but the guns don't quite reach that far behind. Unfortunately, we haven't yet found an exploitable weakness, but we're still laying down fire.
We've seen mortar and rocket teams approaching from the south. I think they've been sent from R&D. If they get here before you bring your support, we're done for!"
"Understood, Luke," Kyle responded. "Help's on the way. Sit tight, all of you. 7-1, did you see where the mortar and rocket teams were heading?"
"My guess is they'll take up positions on the southern and eastern cliffs."
"Got it." Kyle opened up the band to all Rebel frequencies. "All teams in transit, unload men south of the bunker and along the southwestern ridgeline. Those on bunker duty will support Teams Four and Seven on repelling the prototype. The rest of us will take out the enemy's artillery support and rejoin to destroy the prototype tank. Understood?"
A chorus of assent rounded. Explosions were heard in the distance. The Rebels had disabled the other tank, at the cost of another two Rebel Humvees. Fox slammed on the accelerator, breaking away from the transport trucks with one more Humvee to turn onto a southeastern path towards the ridge just underneath the R&D complex.
An 8-man mortar team were putting together two mortar launchers at the top of the cliff. The Humvee gunner hosed the cliff down with .50s, firing until the machine gun ran dry. With a lurch, the two Humvees climbed the rocky path up the cliff in single file, pushing up the cliff path until they reached the outcropping where the remainder of the mortar team awaited. The two Humvees parked to block the escape path behind them.
Gray Fox put the Humvee in park and kicked his door open, sliding out and taking up a firing position behind the engine block. "All units, dismount!" he barked. The other rebels followed Fox's example.
The four Outer Heaven troopers manning the mortar launchers went down under the hail of bullets while the remaining two retreated behind the nearby rock walls. One of their voices could be heard over the din requesting air support, and soon after the sound of propeller rotors ripped through the air and the last enemy Blackfoot screamed overhead to lay down fire onto the cliffs, killing three Rebels.
"Get under the armor!"
The survivors dove onto the dirt and crawled underneath the Humvees, hoping that the armor of the vehicles overhead would stand up to the chopper's machine gun rounds. The shaking of their improvised shelter and the sound of grenade explosions just a few feet in front of them terrified the Rebels into paralysis.
Fox and Kyle looked up and forward—the three troopers in front of them were advancing on the Humvees while the Blackfoot covered the ground behind them. Kyle fired a couple of shots towards the troopers only to have his weapon jam. They returned fire while he attempted to clear the obstruction, forcing him to abandon his rifle and crawl backward further underneath the vehicle.
Fox shifted and picked up his rifle, taking a breath, eyes widening. He forced himself to clear his mind and focus, the noise of the battlefield falling away from him and leaving behind nothing but perfect, crystal clarity. He squeezed the trigger, putting down two of the troopers, then rolled out from underneath the Humvee, getting up into a crouch and pulling out a boot knife and throwing it expertly into the last trooper's neck.
He threw away his rifle and yanked open one of the rear passenger doors to grab the RPG-7 and the two remaining rockets. He shouted to the other Rebels, "Everyone, fire on that helicopter! Keep it off me!"
Without waiting to see if they followed his order, Fox slid one of the rockets down the tube of the launcher and sprinted away from the Humvees in a zig-zag pattern, the other rocket grenade held under his arm. He quickly spotted a small cave at the back of the outcropping. He ran up to the entrance of the cave, dropped his spare rocket grenade and did an about-face, crouching low as he looked through the sights at the enemy helicopter.
Once again, the world melted away around Fox. His senses focused. He felt the pounding of his heart in his ears, the steady slow intake of breath. He heard the booming whir of the flying beast's propellers. He flexed his finger, brought it to rest on the trigger. He watched the Blackfoot's momentum as it angled right, anticipated its trajectory, and squeezed. The rocket-propelled grenade whooshed through the air, leaving a thin trail of smoke in its wake. The helicopter attempted to evade, but the rocket found its mark, slamming into the aircraft's armor and exploding.
Fox loaded another rocket while he carefully watched the aircraft spin. The bird was damaged, but he'd failed to hit the tail rotor, main propeller, or the cockpit. If the pilot was quick, he may be able to keep the beast from falling out of the sky, and then he'd surely retaliate. Fox looked back to the Rebels on earth, who were cheering. He waved them to follow.
"Into the cave!" he shouted. "It's not down yet!"
His voice sounded muffled in his ears, like he was screaming underwater. Kyle saw Fox and tapped his nearest man on the shoulders, waving for the others to follow. They followed after Fox and took cover in the cave just in time for the helicopter to rise from below the ridge line again and put Fox in its sites. It fired a rocket, forcing Fox to dive into the cave and leave the RPG behind. The cave ceiling above them trembled, knocking dust into their faces as they backed as far away from the cave entrance as they could.
Fox was coughing. He spluttered a curse as he realized he couldn't go grab the launcher without risking getting hit by another artillery rocket or by the Blackfoot's main guns. His ears were ringing, and he couldn't make out any other sounds around him. He felt dizzy and so he opted to stay prone on the ground so as not to lose his sense of balance. He saw a blur overhead as someone passed him. He looked up, seeing Loyiso shouldering his sniper rifle and leaning out of the cave.
"Fool!" cried Fox. "Get back in here! Don't be a hero!"
Fox could barely hear his own voice, only feeling hoarseness in his throat. He didn't know if Loyiso could even hear him. If he did, he didn't appear to be paying Fox's words any heed. Loyiso closed one eye, breathing slowly as he glared down his scope at the Blackfoot. He'd only get one shot at this. For a few seconds, it felt like both men were frozen in time. Three agonizing seconds passed as Loyiso silently counted down before squeezing the trigger.
The bullet found its mark, cracking through the canopy of the Blackfoot cockpit and turning the pilot's head into pulp. The pilot slumped over, his arm knocking the joystick to the side and the helicopter angled itself sideways and careened down into the cliffside. Loyiso pumped his arm in celebration. The other Rebels clapped him on the shoulder to congratulate him while Fox simply looked on with respect. He thought to himself that this man would make a good recruit for Big Boss; both he and his leader, Kyle. Maybe Fox would put a good word in for them when this was all over.
Fox pulled himself up, walked over to the discarded launcher and scooped it up. He turned to Kyle. "Just the one rocket left," he said. "Plus, however many were in the other vehicle. If you wanted to use this ordnance on that prototype hover tank out there, we'd better make these shots count."
Kyle nodded. "Agreed. Come on, we've still got the other mortar team to clear out."
It didn't take long for them to locate the other mortar team—they were further east up the cliffs and into the small hills up top, dispersed among the trees and hiding in the tall grass. The Rebels used one more rocket to break apart one of the trees and send it toppling onto the escort after which they mowed down the rest of the mortar team. Kyle had some of his Rebels man the captured mortar launchers and use the artillery to support teams four and seven below.
Kyle, Loyiso, Fox, and Imke started moving along the path downhill, aiming to rejoin their men down at ground level, who were busy desperately defending themselves from the mechanized monstrosity that strafed and zoomed over the empty helipads and slamming into parked vehicles and shipping containers, firing its machine guns at anything that moved.
As they were making their way down, Imke pointed at the ground team's flank opposite the hover tank. "Sir, look! It's the launchers!"
Kyle stopped and looked through his binoculars in the direction Imke had indicated. He cursed. "They're armed with remote-controlled rockets," he said. He turned to the others. "Change of priority. We need to take out those rocket men first, before they get a chance to fire their payloads into their flank!"
The four erupted into a sprint, the downhill momentum speeding them to the bottom. Loyiso and Fox slung their respective larger weapons over their shoulder and readied their automatic rifles. Kyle and Imke sported submachine guns. When they got in range, they descended on the Outer Heaven troopers who had taken up positions behind half of a shipping container that'd been blown apart. They took the troopers by surprise, putting them down before the enemy could return fire.
With the immediate threat eliminated, the four Rebels took the troopers' place behind the container's remains. Imke and Kyle both watched the battlefield ahead through their binoculars. The mortar teams up high were pummeling the prototype hover tank with shells, but they didn't seem to be making much of a dent.
Just what the hell was that armor made of, Kyle wondered? He pulled out his radio.
"All members of Teams Four and Seven, this is R-Leader," Kyle said. "We've eliminated the mortar teams and rocket men and have commandeered their ordnance. I've got mortar teams in the cliffs providing overwatch, and I've got a few men with me approaching you from your east flank. We have other reinforcements approaching from your west from transport trucks and other vehicles."
"Acknowledged, sir," replied Sibusiso. "Thanks for the assist."
"Tell me about this tank that's been giving you trouble," Kyle said. "Have you determined any possible weaknesses?"
"It's main cannon looks like some kind of railgun. Every time the beast fires it, the whole tank stops moving and goes dormant for a few minutes. It gives us time to reposition, but so far we've found nothing that can penetrate its armor. Maybe those mortars you found will help?"
As if to punctuate Sibusiso's report, another two mortar shells whistled through the air and slammed into the top of the hover tank's hull, exploding on impact. Once again, however, it didn't appear to have much of an effect. In an almost annoyed response, the giant metal crab rotated 180 degrees and lifted up its head, which Kyle guessed must be the cockpit. It angled the railgun toward the cliffs where the mortars had originated.
As the gun started humming, Kyle screamed, "Mortar teams, retreat! Get the hell out of there!"
Seconds later, the ground under their feet vibrated with the echoing THWOOM that sounded from near the bunker. Like a hot knife through butter, the huge metal slug carved a section of the rocky wall clean off and sent rubble cascading down the cliff face. Kyle and other Rebels called out to the southern mortar teams, but they received no response. The other mortar teams to the east wisely stopped attempting to shell the tank, lest they attract more unwanted attention.
Just like Sibusiso said, the tank huddled back into itself assuming its more crab-like form. The tank gently lowered itself back onto the ground out of hover mode, and there was no further sound from it other than the soft hum of its engines. Panels on the sides of the hull opened up to reveal air vents, which blew out hot steam for a few moments.
Kyle eyed the steam blowing out, pointing them out to the others. "You see that steam? What's with that?" Kyle asked.
Gray Fox took the binoculars from Kyle and watched the tank. "I'm guessing that railgun takes a lot of power to fire and generates a lot of heat. I'm thinking the vents are for radiating that heat into the atmosphere quickly so that it doesn't stay contained inside the tank."
Kyle squinted in thought as Fox continued to observe the metal behemoth. "Fox, Snake told me people in your unit are trained in all types of weaponry."
Fox glanced over his shoulder. "Yeah. Your point?"
"How are you with mortars?"
Fox shrugged. "Just basic trigonometry. As long as someone can accurately call out the targets, I can hit whatever you'd like me to."
Kyle shook his head. "You don't need to be that precise. You just need to hit the tank and get its attention. What I need is for you to goad it into firing that rail gun."
"You want me to deliberately put myself in the crosshairs of a weapon that can bring down an entire cliffside?"
Now it was Kyle's turn to shrug. "Should be no problem for a special agent like you," he replied flippantly. "Take Loyiso with you. Two pairs of eyes are better than one.
"And what are you going to do?"
Kyle looked down at the fallen troopers near their feet and picked up one of the RC missile launchers. He gave Imke and Loyiso a pointed look, and they followed his example. Kyle spoke into his radio. "7-1, 7-2: I need the both of you to swing by our position on the west side. Grid 220-652, behind the destroyed shipping container. We're going to need you to give us a ride."
"Where to, Commander?"
Kyle smirked. "Right up underneath that hover tank's nose."
"…Yes, sir!"
Kyle smiled at Fox, pointing up the hill behind them. "Get going," he said.
Fox nodded and sprinted away moments before the three Walker Gears arrived, Loyiso following along behind him.
OUTER HEAVEN NORTH
1631 HOURS
BUNKER EXTERIOR, SOUTH SIDE – INSIDE BATTLE GEAR
The cockpit was bathed in green light just in time to be shaken by the impact of 120mm mortar shells above them. Soder had to grit his teeth to keep from biting his tongue off due to the vibrations. His hands were sweating. The Battle Gear's armor was impressive, but not invincible. It had been taking a great deal of abuse since the battle started, but it wouldn't last them forever. The Rebels had eliminated most of the other vehicles and now it was just the Outer Heaven foot soldiers and the Battle Gear itself.
They needed to resolve this quickly.
Cpt. Ivanov regained his senses first. "Soder! Pinpoint the source of that enemy ordnance!"
"On it, sir," Soder replied, checking the onboard detection systems to trace lines of possible trajectory from the impact. "Behind us, due east! I can't get a bead with my guns. We need to turn around."
"You heard the man, Takashi."
Takashi cracked his knuckles, re-engaged the tank's hover mode and spun them on a dime. Takashi put his hand over his mouth. The G forces were starting to make him feel a little ill. He hoped that he wouldn't end up throwing up all over the console. Soder scanned the ridgeline for any sign of the mortar team, who had hidden themselves behind the tree line in the distance. Suddenly, a cloud of smoke appeared.
"There!" Soder pointed.
"Evasive action!" Ivanov barked.
Takashi strafed to avoid the mortar, and Soder aimed his auto gun turrets at the ridge, painting the cliffs .50 caliber fire. After a brief moment, Soder let up to examine the spot in the distance. He zoomed in with the exterior cameras and switched to infrared mode—no sign of any heat signatures or freshly cold bodies.
"Negative contact," Soder reported. "They're up there somewhere…"
The Resistance took advantage in the lull in the fire to continue making hit and run attacks on the Battle Gear's hull. Takashi looked over to Soder.
"Soder, we've got positive ID on ground targets approaching the tank. Bring out the antipersonnel fire!"
Soder moved to switch over his camera view when he spotted another white plume of smoke in the distance at higher elevation. He opened his mouth to warn the others but was cut off when the cockpit was rattled by another explosive impact.
This wasn't working. Soder wasn't going to be able to focus on the ground targets and the cliffs at the same time. He looked over to Cpt. Ivanov.
"Sir, aim your railgun at the cliffs, bearing 063! I'll protect us from the ground troops while you charge it to keep them off our backs. We'll kill two birds with one stone."
"Good thinking, Lieutenant! Takashi, adjust bearing to 063, I'm about to tear that whole cliffside down!"
"Yes, sir!" Takashi replied, turning the tank slightly.
"Good. Hold that position!"
Soder adjusted his view to the rebels, who were retreating out of range of his machine gun fire. It looked like something else was taking their attention. Was it their reinforcements? Soder checked his other screens but saw no evidence of movement among their own forces. What was going on?
The rail cannon raised up at an angle as the targeting computer calculated the appropriate trajectory. The ready light in the cockpit glowed blue as the whole compartment hummed loudly. The rail gun crackled with life as the electromagnets switched on and another slug was loaded into the chamber.
Cpt. Ivanov checked their ammunition supply—they only had two more shots left, including this one. He nodded in confidence. Should be more than enough. The light next to his trigger switch glowed yellow. He pulled the trigger, and the projectile shot forward and up, slicing into the side of the mountain past the bunker and bringing the cliffs crumbling down. Cpt. Ivanov pumped his fist in exhilaration as the cabin was bathed in orange light to signal the venting procedure and all nonessential electrical components powered down.
The three men leaned back, breathing a sigh of relief knowing that the greatest threat to their armor was now eradicated.
Or so they thought. Another mortar shell slammed into the ground next to them. Ivanov cursed.
"Soder, report!"
Soder wiped the sweat from his forehead. "They must have another mortar team! Either that, or they repositioned before we were able to fire on them." He growled in frustration as his eyes flitted from one camera screen to another. He stopped on the rear cameras. Two Walker Gears carrying one passenger each in their robotic arms were speeding around them in a half circle on their flank, narrowly dodging gunfire from Outer Heaven forces. The passengers were carrying some kind of launcher weapon, but Soder couldn't make it out. More RPGs?
The passengers each pointed their launchers upward and fired their rockets straight into the air above them, missing them entirely. Soder panned his camera to follow them, and watched as the rockets changed direction, and sped straight towards them.
"Shit!" Soder shouted. "They have RC rockets!"
Not two seconds after he burst out his exclamation did the two rockets each collide with the open heat vents. Every screen on every console started flashing warning signs. Two of the four vents on the Battle Gear were destroyed, severely impeding the overall ventilation process. The tank entered safe mode, and the hover capability was temporarily disabled in favor of the drive motor and the treads. Their overall mobility had drastically decreased. The two remaining vents closed. The cabin light turned yellow—limited functionality restored.
Soder tried to turn his guns onto the enemy Walker Gears, but they were already well out of range.
"Damn sewer rats are using our own tech against us," he growled.
Takashi turned over the motor. He needed to get them the hell out of Dodge. "I'm going to take us southwest, try and give them some distance. We can't take many more hits like that," he said.
But before they could move, another mortar shell struck them from overhead, this one colliding against the rail gun. Cpt. Ivanov's console was flashing red. "Chyort," he cursed. They'd just lost their single greatest asset. He pulled up his own camera feed, seeing that many of the Rebel forces had been decimated to a fraction of their original number. They'd done as much damage as they could possibly do. He looked to his men. It was his responsibility to make sure they made it out of this.
It was time to make a decision.
"Takashi, get us out of here. We're falling back," Ivanov ordered. "Soder, use your guns to keep any would-be pursuers off our back."
"Yes sir," said both subordinates.
Takashi pulled the Battle Gear into a turn, only for another explosion to rock the Battle Gear, this time coming from underneath. Takashi looked to see where they were and cursed. The Rebels had managed to corral them inside of their own minefield. They'd just lost the tread belt on the right side wheels. Takashi tried to push forward anyway, only to get them stuck in a ditch. It was the kill house all over again. He kicked the pedal several times in frustration, cursing louder and louder with each kick.
"We're dead in the water, Cap," Takashi exhaled in frustration when he was able to speak again.
The cockpit was sweltering. The heat was quickly rising. Soon it wouldn't be safe to stay inside the armor anymore. The Rebels were closing in on their position. Cpt. Ivanov drew his Beretta.
"Open the hatch, Takashi. I'll climb out first and hold them off. You two come out after me. I'll try and keep their attention while you make for the south."
Takashi nodded grimly and pressed the button to open the hatch overhead. Soder couldn't believe what he was hearing. There was no way they could let the Captain sacrifice himself for them.
"But, sir—"
Ivanov shouted, "I don't want to hear it, Lieutenant. Just do as I tell you—there's no time to argue!"
Without another word, Ivanov quickly climbed up out of the hatch, Beretta raised. He fired on the approaching Rebels and slid down the side of the cockpit and jumped off of the Battle Gear's exterior. Without even glancing back at the armor, he sprinted westward, firing blindly behind him. A crack split the air, and a hole exploded through his shoulder, causing him to drop the gun and tumble forward.
One of the rebels who had fired the RC rockets before came running up, kicked Ivanov onto his back, and then shoved the barrel of his rifle into Ivanov's face. The rebel took note of the captain's uniform.
"Game over, Captain," he said.
Soder came sprinting forward and clotheslined the enemy, sending them both tumbling into the dirt. He dropped his elbow onto the rebel's face, breaking his nose, and brought down quick strikes onto his jaw, splitting his lip. Soder drew his knife and held it to his opponent's neck while Takashi helped Cpt. Ivanov to his feet.
"You idiots," Ivanov chided. "I told you both to run."
The Rebel Soder was straddling grunted between his teeth, spitting blood onto Soder's face. "You should have listened to your superior," he growled.
A crack was heard in the far distance, and Soder fell over onto the ground, dazed. His ears were ringing, and he felt light-headed. What happened? He could hear yelling, but it was distant, muffled. Like he was wearing a thick pair of earmuffs. The only thing he could hear clearly was that damned ringing. He tried to move but felt weak. Everything hurt. Why did everything hurt? Why couldn't he feel his left arm?
Something flipped him over onto his back. Cpt. Ivanov and Takashi were watching over him, shouting, looking worried. What was wrong? They made it out of the Battle Gear, didn't they? Why did Soder's chest hurt? He put a hand onto where the pain was coming from. It came red. Is that my blood, he wondered? His heartbeat quickened slightly.
Soder thought about home. He took this job to make money for his parents. He hadn't stayed in the army long enough to collect a pension, and the civilian sector wasn't cutting it. When he learned about Outer Heaven, he jumped at the chance to give his mother a comfortable life. He stayed on with Outer Heaven because of the people he worked with, and because of Ahab. They made him into a true believer: "somewhere where soldiers will always have a place," they'd said.
But where did that lead him? He's bleeding, and from the looks on his friends' faces, it wasn't good. Some anonymous merc wasting in some middle-of-nowhere African desert plain. Didn't seem right. Weren't they supposed to be proud, strong warriors?
His vision started going black. His last thoughts before the end were of home.
"Soder? Soder! SODER! No, no, no, NO!"
"Fuck man, get up. This isn't funny!"
The two Outer Heaven troopers were shaking their fallen comrade, trying to keep him awake. But it was too late. He was gone. Kyle motioned to his men, and the two survivors were quickly subdued and detained. He gripped over his radio to hail Loyiso.
"Thanks for the assist, Mortar Team," he said.
He looked over at the fallen trooper's face. He looked young, barely into his mid-twenties. Kyle was used to looking into the eyes of his enemy and seeing the violent monsters that took his family from him. They were cruel, vindictive and rapacious demons, not deserving of sympathy or mercy.
But now, seeing this boy dead in the dirt…
He put the thought out of his mind.
He rounded up his troops and did a headcount. There were about twenty of them left, not counting himself, Gray Fox, and Loyiso. Forty-three men and women of the Resistance, gone in the span of about eight hours. Of the Outer Heaven forces pitted against them, only five survived to take as captive hostages, including the two hover tank crewmembers. Given how dwarfed they were by the opposing forces, it was pretty good day. At least, that's what Kyle tried to tell himself.
In about fifteen minutes, Gray Fox and Loyiso linked up with them.
"All good?" Gray Fox asked.
"As good as it gets," Kyle replied ruefully.
Gray Fox looked around. "We can't stay here. It's only a matter of time before Outer Heaven sends more reinforcements, and we still need to beat the air strike. We've gotten your people out of the fire. It's time to bug out."
Kyle nodded. "What about Snake and his Infiltration Team?"
"Word from command is there's an alternate exit from the bunker north of here. If he makes it out, it'll be from there. But we can't wait for him. I'm going to contact my CO. He can arrange an extraction for us."
Kyle agreed, too tired to argue. Gray Fox patched his radio to the proprietary mission control frequency he was given.
"Gray Fox to Big Boss. Come in."
Kyle froze. That name was familiar. It was a name he'd heard many times before, during the war in Angola. But it couldn't be the same man. Right? He turned slightly to listen to Fox's conversation.
"We're all wrapped up here. Everything else is up to Snake. I've got a little over 25 people here, and we're in need of an extraction before enemy reinforcements arrive. How soon can you get here?"
A few seconds pass while Fox receives his response.
"And the air strike? …Understood. We'll hold here and wait for your arrival. Aim for the helipads. Roger. Fox out."
Kyle approached Fox. "Who did you say you were calling?"
Fox responded, "Big Boss. He's our commanding officer. He's going to send helicopters to pick us up. We need to keep the landing zone clear."
"Remind me again, Fox, how long have you been here at Outer Heaven since you were sent?"
Fox looked over, widening his eyes. There was tense moment of silence between them. "Almost a month," he answered. "Why?"
Kyle shook his head, trying to be nonchalant. "It's nothing. Don't worry about it. This mission has been getting to me. Let's get this place clear. I'm ready to be out of here."
Fox stared down Kyle for a few more seconds before reluctantly nodding and joining the other rebels in securing the Outer Heaven prisoners and establishing a perimeter guard. Kyle waved Imke over to him, walking in the opposite direction.
"Get me a secure radio line. I need to talk to Snake."
OPERATION INTRUDE N313
DAY SIX – 1623 HOURS
METAL GEAR'S BUNKER – FREIGHT LIFT (IN TRANSIT)
They'd been silently riding the slow-moving freight elevator for about ten minutes. Snake was squatting low to the ground, resting against the exterior railing and tapping his heel with his rifle resting on his shoulder while Vusi was more restless, constantly pacing back and forth. Snake pulled out his pack of Lucky Strikes and shook it, listening to the satisfying rattle of its contents bouncing around before looking in the open hole. There were two left.
"Hey," he said, holding out the mostly empty pack in Vusi's direction. "Smoke?"
Vusi walked over and sat down next to Snake, taking the offered cigarette. Snake tapped the box and pulled the last one out with his teeth, then crushed and tossed aside the empty pack. He flipped open his lighter and held out the flame for Vusi, who leaned forward and nodded in thanks.
"You know," Vusi said as Snake lit his own cigarette. "I hear these are terrible for your health."
"Yeah, well," Snake muttered as he flipped the lid of his lighter closed. "Pretty sure having bad aim from shaky hands while bullets are flying around you is pretty damn unhealthy all on its own. Smoke inhalation's a fair trade for the nicotine, I think."
Vusi didn't have an argument for that. Chances were, they probably weren't going to be making it out anyway, but he kept that thought to himself. He looked at the lighter still resting in Snake's hand. "What's that?" he asked, pointing at it.
Snake looked at the lighter. Vusi was referencing the little duel-wielding cartoon fox emblazoned on it. Snake took a drag. "It's nothing, just a goofy little picture meant to identify the unit I serve with. Only other members can get one of these. Helps us identify each other."
Snake brushed the fox logo with his thumb. "I remember being so proud when I was issued my code name. Picked up the lighter from the store on base so I could have a memento of the occasion that would last me even into retirement." He chuckled. "If I even make it that far…"
They smoked together in silence for a few more minutes, just listening to the rumble of the lift as it carried them deeper underground.
"What's your plan when this is all over?" Snake asked.
Vusi shook his head. "Things are far from over. Whatever we accomplish today, even if we kill Outer Heaven's leader and destroy this weapon you're after, their forces will still be in the country. Assuming we make it out, I plan on rejoining with the Resistance to kill or expel every last one of them and end the foreign occupation for good." Vusi took another drag. "That's if we make it out, anyway."
Snake grunted, nodding.
"My country has known nothing but foreign rule and oppression since the Dutch landed and founded their colony in 1652. Even after we became a self-governing British colony at the turn of the century, the Anglo descendants in our government never really stopped that particular European tradition. My grandparents weren't allowed to buy land for themselves due to being black. My parents—who were in an interracial marriage—were among those killed during one of the many protest demonstrations.
"The shadow of apartheid hung over my family's head for nearly fifty years. The passing of the referendum in '91 was a proud day for us all. We finally had the opportunity to heal as a country and build something new. And then Outer Heaven entrenched themselves deeper and refused to leave. Even now, we have yet to escape the tyranny of foreigners shedding our blood on our own soil."
Snake exhaled through his nose and blew out a cloud of smoke. "Let's hope this war will be the last, then."
"I hope so. But I admit, it is difficult to keep the hope."
"But you have to," Snake said. "Hope is what lets us keep fighting when all else is gone. Without it, we're nothing."
Vusi arched an eyebrow. "That's surprising to hear, coming from you."
Snake coughed a little. "Why?"
Vusi just shook his head. He changed the subject. "So, what about you? What is your plan once your mission here is finished?"
"I go home."
"Just like that?"
Snake took a long drag, stood up, and tossed his cigarette to the ground, grinding it with the toe of his boot. "Just like that," he answered.
He walked to the edge of the lift, looking down, he could see a light rapidly approaching from below. "Alright," he said as Vusi put out his own cigarette. "Time to over the game plan. We don't know what we're going to find down there, so I need you to stick to me like glue—we can't afford to be separated."
Vusi nodded, listening intently with a stern furrow to his brow.
"When we get to Metal Gear's hangar, you post rear security while I attach the C4 and the detonators. We'll get to a safe distance before we blow it remotely. If we haven't already found contact with the enemy by then, the explosion will definitely get their attention, so we'll need to move fast.
Pay attention to any signs as we move through the place. Venom is supposed to be living and working down here. Keep an eye out for his office. We can't leave here until he's dead and Metal Gear's been destroyed or disabled. You see him, you do not hesitate—take him down if you have the shot. Once that's all done, we search for a parking garage; assuming the intel can be trusted, there should be a surface access tunnel that moves due north. If our explosion disables Metal Gear instead of destroying it, then I'll call my CO and have him arrange the air strike to level this place after we've successfully escaped the bunker."
"If we know for sure that the attack on Metal Gear will bring the enemy, wouldn't it make more sense to target Venom first before we move onto the hangar?" Vusi asked.
"Chances are, he'll be under heavy guard. No matter which target we hit first, it's probably going to kick the hornet's nest. But you're right, hitting Venom first is probably the smarter play. Unfortunately, we don't know the layout of this place. So, I'm thinking, we keep an eye out either way, but we hit whichever target we come across first. There's a chance he'll be in the hangar itself, anyway, overseeing Metal Gear's production and armament or just to protect the vehicle itself."
The lift reached the bottom with a loud rumble, the railing sinking into the floor to let both passengers exit into a large steel corridor. The ceilings disappeared into the darkness, so that Snake couldn't tell exactly how tall the hallway actually was; could be just a few feet or twenty feet for all he knew. There were a few double doors down the corridor, two on the left, one on the right and one at the end. The corridor was lit with square halogen lights hung on the walls just a few feet above them.
Snake and Vusi raised their rifles. "Let's go," Snake commanded, and they ventured forth down the hallway. They checked the doors on each side of the hallway as they came to them. The first set of double doors on the left side of the hallway entered into another shorter hallway that ended at a door whose signage indicated a stairwell. The second set of double doors fed out into a small storeroom with cardboard boxes stacked all around from floor to ceiling.
The two paid the boxes no mind and crossed the hallway to the right-most set of double doors, which opened into an office space with a series of cubicles, a long table and a whiteboard with a projector hanging from the ceiling. The projector was left on, and the light on the white board was showing schematics for one of Metal Gear's front-mounted weapons systems. At the far end of the office space were two conference rooms, also empty, as well as doors to two bathrooms at the corner.
It unsettled the two men just how quiet and empty this place was. They had expected some amount of opposition by now since exiting the lift. They were far enough underground that they couldn't hear the explosions and fighting happening up on the surface, either. It was deathly silent, and that only served to ratchet up the two infiltrators' nerves to incredible heights.
In a quick exchange, they resolved to finish clearing this floor before checking the stairwell, so they doubled back to the main hallway and peeked through the double doors at the very end opposite the lift they'd arrived on.
Inside, they found themselves in a wide and long room roughly about the size of a football field. Overhead rails mounted to the ceilings linked to tunnels high above to bring cargo in the room to and from places unknown. Much of this cargo was stacked in racks which lined the room from one end to the other. Snake widened his eyes when he got a good look at what this cargo was—laying in these shelving racks in uniform stacks were disassembled missiles and warheads. On the opposite side of the room from the missile racks were many steel shipping containers and forklifts. Snake approached one of the containers and noted the trefoil symbol emblazoned on one of them, with the words 'DANGER: RADIATION' printed above it.
"This place…," Snake muttered aloud. "This is where they keep the nukes and assemble the missiles."
Vusi's eyes became widened and fearful. He swung his head around to address Snake. "Outer Heaven has access to nuclear weapons!?" he asked, incredulous.
Snake nodded solemnly. "That's why I'm here." He lowered his rifle. "Watch your fire in here. It's best that we don't discharge our weapons in this room if we can help it. The missiles, warheads, and nuclear materials are all separate. There're no live explosives in here, but if we hit the nuclear storage containers, the radiation exposure due to any leaks will be bad news for both of us."
Vusi took his finger off the trigger and lowered his rifle as well, swallowing nervously. Then it hit him what Snake was saying. "Wait, wait," he said. "You said this was 'why you were here.' You mean to say you knew the whole time that Outer Heaven had nukes?"
"Yep," Snake responded. "And Metal Gear's the delivery system. All the more reason to make sure we destroy it."
Vusi clenched his jaw, saying nothing in reply. He glowered at Snake. The American hadn't said anything about nuclear power to the Infiltration Team before the fighting had started this morning. Was the Commander aware of the danger; did Snake assume that Kyle had already told the other Rebels? Or did the American keep this secret to himself from the beginning?
It shouldn't matter. The mission would still be the same, either way. But it did matter to Vusi.
Snake didn't see the look his fellow soldier was giving him, still marveling at the sheer number of warheads on display. At the end of the football field corridor was a blast door that was roughly the same height and width of the whole room. Was it more storage, continuing further underground? How many nukes did Venom have access to?
"So much firepower," Snake muttered, mostly to himself. "How did he get his hands on it all?"
During his entire infiltration of Outer Heaven R&D, Snake hadn't seen any labs for nuclear processing and even if they did have it, Outer Heaven had only been present in South Africa for a few years yet already had a stockpile rivaling many of that of entire countries among the smaller nuclear powers, far sooner than it would have taken for Outer Heaven to have developed it themselves. They'd only been seen collecting yellowcake for less than a year. Where did this stockpile come from? It would have taken time to obtain. It didn't make sense, Snake thought to himself.
Snake turned around, meeting Vusi's eyes. Vusi saw Snake's troubled expression. Whatever Snake was thinking, it wasn't good. Snake waved back to where they had come from, and they doubled back to the original hallway to make their return to the ignored stairwell. It was a narrow passage, four short flights of metal stairs to go up one floor four meters up. Snake leaned around the doorway, finding them to be inside of a short tunnel. There was a set of double doors leading back in the direction of the freight elevator and an open passage just ahead on the opposite side.
Snake looked through the windows of the double doors and found that the passage only extended to a dead end a short way in—another larger storage room—so they ignored the rear in favor of following the tunnel.
When they emerged on the other side, they'd found themselves in the biggest room they'd seen yet: the walls and ceilings were over twelve meters high, with the walls being reinforced with crisscrossing steel girders. The floors were mostly cleared, save for a few scissor lifts, some stacks of metal crates, and a few toolboxes and benches posted here and there. High above them were arterial metal catwalks feeding from doorways to various cranes carrying metal parts, as well as huge coils of thick wire suspended from the ceiling that draped down to connect with various parts of a six-meter tall metal monstrosity which stood waiting on a freight lift platform designed to carry its single passenger straight up through a hole in the ceiling that was closed by a thick steel bulkhead.
The monster itself towered high above them, looming over the two intruders. It looked exactly as Snake had seen in the schematics that were shared in the briefing more than a week ago, but those drawings couldn't hold a candle to what it was like seeing it in person.
The legs were 3m tall, square, and squat, as big around as the trunk of a good-sized fir tree. The feet were wide, with two split toes in the front like an ostrich. Sitting on top of the legs just off center was the cockpit, or the 'head' of the metal beast, which made up almost half of the thing's height, and resembled a large shield. Just to the left of the cockpit, stacked on top of each other was a round apparatus with three barrels of different calibers—Snake figured it was probably contained both an anti-vehicle weapon and the anti-infantry option that Dr. Madnar had mentioned—and a shoulder-mounted missile module with spaces for two warheads and two air nozzles feeding out of the side.
Snake didn't see the flamethrower that was supposed to be underneath between the legs. Madnar had said it would be hidden behind the vent plate in the front, along with the ion beam. Snake hoped they'd be able to approach without it activating.
Wedged between the missile delivery system and the cockpit was a large camera with three lenses. Armor panels hung over the legs just under the rotating gun and the cockpit splayed out like wings. Presumably they were intended to protect the hydraulics of the legs from gunfire.
Snake and Vusi warily pointed their weapons at the monster, but it made no attempt to move or harm them upon their entry. Snake nodded in begrudging awe and respect of the beast whose home they had trespassed in.
"Metal Gear," he said in a quietly reverential voice. He scanned the sectors of the room around them and saw no impending threats. Once clear, he looked over his shoulder to Vusi. "This is it. Come on, let's plant those explosives."
The two men stepped forth towards the mech, and Snake stepped onto one of the vehicle's toes to figure out from where he should climb to get up underneath.
"The engineer we rescued said we should plant the explosives on the motor between its legs," Snake said, crouching under the vent plate to examine the machinery underneath the tank. Yep, he thought to himself, seeing the hanging metal apparatus. There's the flamethrower and laser. He leaned his head slightly to get a better look at the mechanical components behind them. He pointed at it, saying "That must be it."
Snake pulled off his backpack and unzipped it, pulling out his brick of C4 and the detonator switch. Putting the switch in his pocket, he walked up Metal Gear's foot and put a hand onto the upper leg, letting his rifle dangle on his torso by the strap. He looked down to Vusi.
"Cover me while I plant this," he said. Vusi nodded and turned his attention to the room's exits while Snake jumped up and grabbed the machine in the back of the vehicle, his legs dangling over the floor below as he quickly wedged the C4 brick into a likely space between what he thought was the motor and the tank of the flamethrower. Suddenly, the machine began to move above him and in pulling his hand away to keep it from getting crushed, Snake lost his grip and fell painfully onto his back a few feet below.
A voice crackled over both Snake's and Vusi's radio. It was heavy with static due to the interference from being underground, but it was recognizable as Kyle's voice.
"—to Infil Team! Repeat, this is Architect to Infil Team! Mission security…compromised…walking into…trap! Do not trust Big—…—repeat, do NOT trust—…Venom is—"
One of the feet raised themselves off the ground and the whole thing began to lean as it shifted its weight so that the foot was above him. Snake grabbed his rifle and quickly rolled out of the way just before the foot could slam down on his prone position. The pack fell off the foot, and to Snake's dismay, he thought he saw the C4 brick wobble a bit from the place above where he'd planted it.
Vusi grabbed Snake's hand and pulled him to his feet so they could quickly beat a hasty retreat to the other side of the hangar and take cover behind one of the larger toolboxes, only to have it sheared in half by the antipersonnel ion laser. They sprinted to the scissor lift a few yards away. Snake pulled his detonator from his pocket and looked around the corner of the lift to watch the enemy vehicle as he squeezed it. Metal Gear stumbled but remained standing.
Either the motor was better armored than Snake expected, or the brick had fallen from where he'd planted it. Snake swore loudly as Metal Gear turned rotated its gun barrel and started laying down fire on their position, forcing them to sprint away from their concealment towards a large set of double doors, which burst open to reveal more Outer Heaven troopers. Vusi dropped his last grenade to obliterate the incoming enemies while he and Snake veered to the side to hide behind a concrete pillar just outside of Metal Gear's cone of vision.
"Dammit," Snake cursed. "What are we supposed to do now?!"
He gingerly caressed his side and noted that the stitches near his collarbone had been torn open, letting blood freely soak into his shirt. He fished the bottle of painkillers Jennifer had given him out of his pocket and quickly popped a couple of pills. He needed to be functional for this.
More gunfire erupted from the doorway they'd narrowly avoided and from the catwalks above as more Outer Heaven troopers sprinted into the room. Snake pointed his rifle upwards and fired on the catwalks. One trooper died on the spot while another toppled over the railing to his death onto the hard ground. Vusi aimed for the doorway, putting down suppressing fire to buy them both time to think.
A blast from Metal Gear's cannon crumbled part of the pillar above them, sending chunks of debris over their heads that they quickly dove away from each other to avoid. Pushing himself up, Snake silently prayed that that pillar wasn't load bearing.
He looked over the rubble at the same time Vusi got to his feet and shouted, "Look out!"
Vusi ducked as Snake raised his rifle to ventilate the heads of the two troopers that came in through the open door behind him.
"Split up to the opposite side of the room!" Snake called out. "It can't target us both at the same time!"
Obediently, Vusi sprinted between concealment while Snake crouched behind the rubble to fire on the other catwalk above and to lay down suppressing fire on Metal Gear to try and keep its attention. Once Vusi had found cover behind the steel crates, he laid down fire of his own to give Snake time to reposition and get some breathing room.
Metal Gear stepped forward, wires tugging off of its frame as it walked away from its staging position to turn and face Vusi properly. Snake fired on the machinery at its rear, and Metal Gear turned slightly and raised up its cannon to fire on the catwalk above him, sending it crashing down above Snake's head and forcing him to dive out of the way again.
We're getting nowhere, fast, Snake grumbled to himself, rolling out of the way to avoid another foot stomp. The mech's bulk was deceiving; it was much faster than it appeared. Snake found himself behind a stack of metal crates a few yards across from Vusi.
"Please tell me you still have your C4," Snake said desperately.
Vusi dropped his pack and brandished the small tan brick and the remote detonator. Vusi tossed Snake the detonator, but when Snake motioned for Vusi to slide the explosive brick his way, Metal Gear blasted the aisle between them, once again forcing them to separate further across the room.
Vusi stood up, his face covered in sweat. "Cover me!" He shouted.
Before Snake could protest, Vusi sprinted up to the Metal Gear, rolling underneath the billowing heat of the flamethrower as he got closer. The ion beam shifted to point at him and ignited, causing Vusi to yell as his arm was lopped off at the bicep. He toppled and leaned against one of the legs.
Snake called out Vusi's name, aiming for Metal Gear's cockpit and camera. A few lucky shots nailed one of the camera lenses, while Vusi clung to the leg. Snake hoped that he'd managed to blind the mech at least partially. Vusi pushed the brick up into the machinery and screamed. Snake saw Vusi dangling by his arm—he must have gotten it caught, and now the machinery above was crushing his bones.
"Detonate it!" Vusi screamed through clenched teeth.
Snake checked his magazine, saw that he only had a few rounds left. There was no way to get to Vusi without disabling Metal Gear first, but if he detonated the C4, it would kill Vusi outright. He aimed his rifle, and took a breath, using the last of his bullets to sever Vusi's arm. Vusi's thrashing and kicking pushed him out from under Metal Gear. Snake squeezed the detonator.
This time, the explosion had hit home. Metal Gear stumbled forward, then tipped over onto its side. A series of explosions along its back filled the hangar with hot air. The force of Metal Gear's impact against one of the other concrete pillars caused the ceiling near their point of entry to start caving in, sending rubble and steel into the tunnel from which they'd enter and all around the southern perimeter of the room. Snake tossed his rifle aside and sprinted forward to grab Vusi by the collar of his shirt and drag him into the passageway from where the Outer Heaven troopers had entered on the ground floor.
The rumbling finished as quickly as it started. Snake took off his shirt and tore the fabric, tying off Vusi's stumps to stop the blood flow.
Vusi shook his head. "What are you doing?"
"I'm not losing another man today," Snake replied.
Vusi's eyes rolled slightly, his speech slurred. "Go…go… I'm not…I'm not making it out of here, Sna…ke. We both know it…"
"Shut up," Snake commanded. Once he'd judged the tourniquets to be tight enough, Snake drew his Beretta and headed back into the collapsed hangar. Snake chanced a look inside and saw that Metal Gear was half-buried, its legs disappearing under the rubble.
He had to know.
On his approach, he saw that the cockpit's hull was crumpled, but the front face was open, revealing an empty chair—the pilot had made it out. He heard footsteps behind him. Snake whirled around in time to see a figure darting back into the tunnel where Vusi was. Snake ran after him, awkwardly dodging the rubble as he went. As he reached the doorway, he saw the figure approach a door at the end. Snake took two shots with his pistol. Both missed as the figure ducked into the passage.
He looked down at Vusi. The blood was draining from the Rebel's face, and he was only on the brink of consciousness. He kept mumbling, in a voice that sounded miles away, "Go…go, Snake…don't let…don't let him…"
Snake growled in frustration and desperation. "I'm coming back for you," he promised as he sprinted down the corridor.
Through the door at the end, Snake found himself in a short hallway with a door on the right and a steel bulkhead ahead of him, both hanging ominously open. The hallway was dark, lit only by the dire red of emergency lighting. A soft blue light flowed through the door on Snake's right, and he heard the sound of loud electronic beeping mixed with sounds of exertion. Snake quietly pushed the door open, pointing his pistol down the hall.
A burst of static filled Snake's earphones. He turned the knob of the volume down low and crouched low against the wall. It was Big Boss's voice that rang out this time.
"Mission Control to Solid Snake. Do you read?"
Snake whispered, "This is Solid Snake. It is unsafe for me to respond at this time."
"Acknowledged. Then just listen carefully," the voice replied. "Mission security has been compromised. Standing orders are for you to abort the mission and evacuate the area immediately."
Abort mission? Evacuate? Snake shook his head. It didn't make any sense. In spite of his own warning, he tersely whispered, "Negative, control. Metal Gear has been disabled, and HVT is in the area. I'm tailing him now."
There was a note of frustration in Big Boss's voice as it responded, "Abort the mission. Return immediately. This is an order!"
Snake was going to argue, until he felt a cold chill run down his spine. "Understood, sir," he said. He turned off his radio as he stood. A dawning realization was occurring to him as he remembered that when Kyle had contacted them, there was a broken signal due to them being so far underground.
So why was Big Boss coming through loud and clear, even though he was supposed to be not just topside but many miles away?
Snake swallowed, raising his Beretta. The hallway ended into a room with a tiled floor and brick walls. The sign on the door read, "Commander's Office." Inside, rifles and crates of ammo littered the place, covered in plastic sheets. Against the wall was a broken mirror, and a sink covered in blood. Snake followed the beeping sound to its source and found an FS-A1GT model MSX computer with a flashing green light sitting on a small end table, next to an open journal filled with tiny script with sloppy handwriting and detailed sketches lovingly drawn in pencil.
The computer was connected to a tape cassette player, hanging open. Discarded on the floor was an audio cassette tape. Snake picked it up. Much of the magnetic tape had been torn out, but that wasn't the main item of interest to Snake. The tape had two labels on either side, written in black pen. On one side of the empty cassette was the phrase "From the Man Who Sold the World." Snake flipped it over to examine the other label.
"Operation: Intrude N313."
Snake looked back at the desk. There was a radio at the corner of the table. It was tuned to frequency 120.13. The secondary Mission Control frequency. Snake's breath caught in his throat.
He heard some of the hanging plastic move behind him. Snake whirled around as he saw the shadowy figure just disappear out the door through which he'd entered. He sprinted after the figure, whose form was difficult to make out in the low lighting and followed it through the metal bulkhead into what appeared to be a large boiler room with pipes moving up and down the walls at every angle.
The floors were chain link meshes, and the corridors were tightly crowded. The air was stifling as steam hissed from the pipes around him. Snake scanned the walkway, tightly moving around corners To keep from being surprised. Eventually, he was let out into a wider more open area. Every moving shadow around him caused Snake to jump, beads of sweat rolling down his face and arms as he examined every detail around him.
Footsteps echoed throughout the boiler room. Snake swung his pistol around wildly, not being able to make out the source. The cadence of the footsteps was slow, relaxed. As Snake listened intently for the approaching target, a dry, strained voice echoed throughout, bringing back that chill that Snake had felt earlier outside of Venom's office.
"And so, the old hang'd man stepped forth,
His one eye watching o'er ghostly dead,"
The voice had a rhythmic cadence to it as it resided. It was getting louder. Closer.
"Who fed upon blood-soaked dust
And wander'd where men fear'd to tread;"
Snake was unnerved. He flexed his finger and placed it on the trigger.
"'Come unto me, my warrior-kin,'
Said the one-eyed man with open arms,
'Enter yon Valhalla halls,
Where storied poets spin epic yarns,"
Snake was finally able to pinpoint the direction from which the voice and footsteps were approaching. He spun to face the open space up a short flight of wide steps.
"Come unto me, my brother kin,
Whose bravery be set among the stars.'
So saith the old hang'd man
To the empty graveyard stalls…"
The speaker stepped into view. It was like the civilian from back at Supply Storage had said, and just like the Demon from his dreams: a tall dark figure with a shiny black horn sprouting from his forehead, face covered in blood. He must have been an Irregular, because Snake had never seen a horn sprouting from that face before.
But Snake's eyes didn't focus on the horn, but instead on the figure's singular eye. He lowered his Beretta, speechless at the sight.
"Hello, Snake," Big Boss said grimly.
A/N: And thus we've finally reached the climax of the story and Ahab's true arrival in the flesh. This chapter also marks Kyle's and Gray Fox's exit from the story proper, for the most part-there'll still be a little more to say about them after Snake's climactic fight next chapter, but for the most part their purpose has been served here. If you're interested in a story exploring their fate after Outer Heaven, keep an eye out-it may show up in a later fic. As for Venom's poem at the end, it's one I wrote specifically for him. I've been waiting to reveal it in its entirety since I came up with it back at around chapter 12 or so. I think it really fits the overall vibe for Big Boss/Venom that I'm going for.
I think this is by far the longest or maybe second-longest chapter I've had to write for this story; both in terms of length and in terms of the amount of time and work it's taken for me to put it out. I hope it came out well. Next chapter should hopefully come much sooner. We shall see. We're coming up on the end of Operation Intrude N313. Now it's time for the final stretch; dealing with Ahab and then comes Snake's long journey to escape from both Outer Heaven and from war-torn South Africa, as well as to tie up some loose ends. Look forward to it!