With less than twenty hours to spare, Snake had arrived. Quietly he removed the keys from the jeep, turning off its engine. Posted up on a small hill, he gazed out over the silo. A large fence surrounded its exterior, with a long empty patch of sand. The sand was made perfectly flat, which meant any steps taken onto it, would reveal an intruder. If it wasn't bad enough there were also watch towers surveying the empty swaths of land.
It was clear Snake would have to improvise, so he had an idea. Looking around he found a section of road leading to the base, along with a truck that seemed to have broken down. Its driver and passenger were busy trying to fix its tire, not paying attention to the rear of the vehicle. Seeing his chance Snake rushed in, his sneaking suit muffling any would-be noise. Once there he quietly hoisted himself inside, before pulling out old reliable.
"Damn it, how did it even pop?" the driver muttered to himself, attempting to fasten the last bolt on the tire.
"I told you to watch the road. This is what happens when you don't" his passenger responded.
"Yeah yeah yeah Grandma I get it. Just check on the cargo." the driver ordered.
"Sure," the passenger replied, walking to the back of the vehicle. Looking in he counted the boxes loaded into it. Once finished he realized there was one too many. He wrote it off as one of two things, either a shipping error, or they took too many. He didn't care which as both meant they would have to drive back to the depot. A depot that was five miles away.
And seen as he was not in the mood, he elected to ignore it.
"Everything there?" the driver asked, preparing to start the truck.
"Yep, we're good." the passenger replied, before leaning back in the seat. Snake meanwhile remained silent in the cardboard box. He felt the weight of the truck shift as it moved forward. Continually, he gazed out through the small slits in the box. In mere moments, the truck would fully enter the facility.
Every few minutes they would pass another patrol, all none the wiser. And as Snake looked out, he began to think out his next plan of action. For one, how was he to deal with the nukes? Capturing them seemed to be the smart thing, as it improved the MSF's arsenal, even if they would never be used. However, it didn't seem possible. The number of AA systems meant a Fulton retrieval would be impossible.
Any aircraft sent to pick up the package would be shot out of the sky instantly, and possibly detonate the nukes. Not to mention if he ignored the AA systems, the extraction would be noticed immediately by every surrounding guard. Meaning another nuclear strike would be launched the moment it was spotted. He could disarm the nukes, but that left the risk of them being rearmed.
So he looked back out at the silo. For its size, a good chunk of it remained underground. Possibly miles down if Snake was correct. There was Snake's plan, one he ultimately despised, but would have to do. He would detonate the nukes, while still in their silos. With it being underground, it should hopefully mitigate the majority of the blast. And the radiation would be mostly contained.
But it was beyond risky. One wrong move and everything could go wrong. But it had to be done. With a plan now formed, Snake felt the truck come to a stop. Looking around he found he was in a warehouse. The driver and the passenger both exited the truck then, preparing to move the cargo. Having little time, Snake drew his pistol and lifted the cardboard box. The two militants reached the back, finding Snake.
They both moved to fire their rifles but were subdued quickly. The first by Snake shooting him in the head, and the second by Snake leaping at him. Snake grabbed the second militant, restraining him in a chokehold. Finding the area around them empty, Snake pulled out his knife.
"Where's the control room?" Snake demanded, brandishing the knife over the guard's throat.
"I don't know," the guard replied, nervously eyeing the blade.
"Want to try again?"
"I'm serious, I don't know where it is," the guard told him, desperation laced in his voice.
He asked a third time and got the same result. It was clear the man knew nothing, so Snake choked him out quickly. Once done he hid the unconscious men in the back of the truck. Then he made his approach, crawling to the main complex. It was far too wide open for Snake's liking. A vast field void of any sort of hiding spot. Not even a hill he could duck behind. His only saving grace was the darkness covering it.
So, he stuck low to the ground, crawling slowly. Every time a patrol would pass by, he would freeze. After a few more moments they would leave, not noticing him. It was a precarious situation, where every movement had to be planned out. But he was getting forward. Soon enough he was halfway across the field, the main complex now a hundred or so feet away.
Yet the world could never be so kind. Snake froze as a small patrol started walking over to his position, getting closer by the second.
"I'm telling you, man, the moment we get those new rifles the other warlords won't know what hit them." one guard proclaimed, walking off directly towards Snake. Neither had spotted him, his suit hiding him in the dark. Carefully, Snake moved to the side, attempting to get closer to the guards.
"I'm pretty sure the nukes are already doing that for us." the other guard countered, as he looked off in a different direction.
"I mean sure, but we only have a dozen of them." the guard tried to argue, finally noticing Snake in his peripheral. He didn't realize what he was seeing yet though, so Snake moved quickly. He grabbed the guard in a chokehold before slamming him into the ground. The other guard turned quickly, just as Snake punched him in the throat. After a loud crunch was heard, the guard somehow survived. The man was stunned for a moment as he clutched his wounded neck.
Snake then grabbed the man, and finding the other guard trying to stand up, slammed the two's heads together. Then as the fight ended, Snake looked around carefully. Finding no one had noticed the scuffle, Snake looked back at the guards. He would drag them with him, as he reached the other end of the field. And finding a nearby portapotty, he shoved them both inside.
He was close to the control room, he could tell. The entire area screamed importance if the number of nearby AA systems was anything to go by. It had to be close, so he looked for the nearest door into the complex. Finding it, he found a pair of guards standing by. After a few minutes, they would walk away, giving Snake time to move in. Silently he ducked inside, closely the door as the guards' replacements arrived.
Looking back at the interior, Snake found it to be a large open room. It didn't seem to have any purpose or current use other than random storage. It was effectively a giant junk drawer from what Snake found. Old crumbs of MREs and random bullets covered the floor, along with random toys and objects. But there were also several filing cabinets, leading to Snake's suspicion.
Surviewing the room for any possible contacts, Snake walked over to the first cabinet he could find. Opening it carefully he found it to be old financial documents. None being of current help, he closed it and moved on to the next one. This one bore fruit, as it held schematics for projects the Tyrant had planned. Some were more rational, such as the supposed new rifles the Tyrant had planned for.
Others weren't so rational, instead pondering the ego of a crazed sadist. That is what Snake found, as he gazed over the design for a large city. It was to be the Tyrant's capital, a city of esteemed wealth and power. Gold covered the city's streets and decorated its buildings. Statues littered every street corner, the faces' of the Tyrant's commanders and allies gracing them. It was every attempt to stroke the ego of the madman, and yet it was seemingly denied and left abandoned in this room.
Snake decided to put the document back then, moving on to the next open folder. As soon as he opened it, a small grin graced his face. The very first document held the schematics for the missile silo. He grabbed his Idroid and scanned the blueprints carefully. One by one they all gave him a clear map of the complex. The control room was just below him, and he wasted no time.
"Covering fire!" a soldier yelled out, as Grizzly ducked behind the large hill. The soldier who called it out was graced with the sound of a nearby machine gun cutting into the enemy. What remained of Grizzly's squad had run all the way back to friendly forces, exhausted and running low on ammo. But when they arrived, things weren't looking much better. The Tyrant's forces had launched an assault covering the entire contamination zone, and now the MSF was locked in a battle to hold them back.
Soon enough the entire force was encircled, and now they were launching a breakout attempt. And Grizzly didn't know who was winning. Abrams clashed with T-72s and T-80s in open fields, or behind large rolling hills. Apaches and Hinds swarmed the skies, cutting swaths into exposed infantry. Cheap suicide drones rammed into an enemy and friendly artillery, the C4 taped to the bottom destroying everything. Meanwhile, IFVs duked it out in the towns, as infantry moved from house to house.
At the moment Grizzly's goal was a seemingly simple one, eliminate the enemies' AA systems. Now while the Tyrant's missile launchers and SAMs were farther away from the front, too far for any effective counter-attack, the smaller self-propelled systems weren't. And with the number of helicopters full of refugees being shot down, it meant they had to go.
This, however, was not an easy task. This was especially clear as a grenade landed next to him. He froze it quickly, stopping the blast quickly. At the same time, bullets pounded at the hill he hid behind. Grizzly wouldn't let it go unanswered, as he turned back with his arm raised. The squad of soldiers that had fired at him, were frozen in seconds, a large wall of ice encapsulating them.
"Save the ice for the AA Rookie!" Ape yelled as he dived into cover next to him. He gave a silent nod, before grabbing his M4. Almost immediately he turned back over and found an enemy militant charging them. Grizzly fired in a quick burst, the first three rounds hitting the enemy's chest. His lung was most likely punctured, and the man collapsed onto the ground.
"Come on! Let's move it troopers!" a CO ordered, slowly advancing forward. The others followed as the militants were slowly pushed back. Grizzly went from cover to cover, as he ran over the hill. Another squad of soldiers attempted to fire at him, only to be stopped by Eagle. He tossed a grenade at them, the militants scrambling to get away. They failed in their attempts, the shrapnel tearing into them quickly.
The entire battle was never something Grizzly expected. At least not when he was becoming a hero. Now, it was becoming more mundane as the truth was revealed to him day by day. This was reality, this was evil, this was villainy. This is what he was supposed to face as a hero, but never did. That was until he left the life of a hero behind. Now he was ducking into the tall grass of the savannah, using it to hide his movements forward. The chaotic firefight didn't seem to end as he went forward.
Every second he heard another bullet being fired, whether it be from his own rifle, or someone else. As he ducked into the grass, he found Ape grabbing an unsuspecting militant. The militant struggled against the sergeant, but ultimately lost as Ape's knife was shoved into his throat. He carefully set the corpse as he noticed Grizzly next to him.
"Sergeant." he greeted, finding they now had a brief lull in the fighting. It could still be heard all around them, but their small sector had become quiet. Another soldier came stumbling through the grass then, along with Eagle in tow.
"Rookie," Ape greeted in return, looking around the tall grass. Grizzly wasn't sure, but he assumed the sergeant was using his quirk.
"We clear?" Eagle asked, holding up his rifle.
"Were clear," Ape replied, looking back at the men surrounding him. More soldiers from the reformed squad continued to arrive then, crowding the nearby brush. The lull in fighting lasted a bit longer than Grizzly was expecting. He sat down for a moment, wiping the sweat from his brow. He could understand Eagle's hatred of the heat now, as his uniform's sleeve became drenched.
A bit away, Ape was viewing the feed on a surveillance drone. No one had spotted the self-propelled AA yet, and that was becoming an issue.
"The last report said they were spotted on the nearby hills. They weren't on the hills. They then said it was in the tall grass. It's not in the tall grass." Eagle stated aloud, recounting the info they had been given.
"Did you check infrared?" Ape asked the drone operator, the man continuing to fly the drone around the area.
"I did. Those guns aren't here." the operator replied.
"Damn it, forty dead men for an empty field," Ape stated angrily.
"What now?" Eagle asked him, taking a seat in the dirt.
"We keep looking," Ape replied, "failure isn't an option."
He turned back over to the drone operator then, as he motioned for the rest of the troops to stand.
"Bring the drone back, we'll need what battery it has left."
"Understood."
"Its bullshit is what it is," Butcher muttered, as he felt the lurch of the aircraft carrier. The operation had been called off, no matter how much the pilots hated it. Now they were being transferred to Africa, along with every aircraft on the carrier.
"I'd call it practical," Mustang countered, as he placed down another card, "you mean to tell me one carrier is more dangerous than a nuke?"
"No, but there was at least more of a challenge. The best we're going to face out there is an SU-27." Darksider chimed in, as he looked at his hand.
"Pretty sure that's what the GC mercs had as well." Mustang countered again, mentally swearing at the cards he'd gotten.
"No, they had J-15s." Impulse commented, as he silently swapped the deck Mustang and Darkside had been using. Without them noticing, he swapped every card with a joker.
"A jet's a jet, doesn't matter what type." Butcher told him, "The problem is that last I checked, there are barely a dozen in the theater we're operating in."
"So, in other words we're not dogfighting." Mustang surmised, finally seeing Butcher's point. They were going to have a very boring time. Well, three of them were. Impulse had enough pranks for years.