Metal Gear Mercenaries - SoI Chapter II - The (Hairy) Pits

Still on the Tanker, Frank, Lynch, Moe and Will are watching outside as Solid Snake, clutching his Tranquilizer Pistol, is busy inching towards a woman with short silver hair, talking into a walkie talkie. That Snake can even withstand the bitter cold and howling storm that is raging outside is amazing, never mind doing it in the Sneaking Suit which appears to be painted onto his chiselled body, presumably leading to some parts of his body suffering shrinkage. The woman slowly lowers her walkie talkie before swiping her arm through the door as a Kasatka makes a pass. After swiping her arm repeatedly, the Kasatka flies past noisily, the blades slicing through the air.

Will: Why doesn't he just shoot her now?

Lynch [Shrugging]: Chivalry.

Will [Scoffing]: Fuck chivalry! It's not a picnic! Pop a tranq into her ass!

Moe: That's how you get a date, isn't it?

Lynch [Laughing]: That's true!

Snake quickly pops out from behind a long metal crate, presumably used to store armaments, aiming his pistol at her.

Snake: FREEZE!

The woman slowly turns around, unperturbed by Snake.

Snake: HANDS OVER YOUR HEAD! NOW!

The woman slowly raises her arms, revealing a set of unshaven armpits. Inside the Tanker, the mercenaries wince.

Frank: Look at those armpits! It looks like she's smuggling hamsters!

Will: I'd love to lick those babies.

Frank's right eye twitches before he doubles over and vomits noisily. Will cackles loudly, pointing at Frank.

Will [Cackling]: BAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAA!!!! MADE YOU HURL!!!

Moe: At least we have standards of personal hygiene!

Lynch: Which is just us spraying eachother with enough deodorant to completely erode the ozone layer.

Olga swiftly tosses her gun overboard.

Will [Impatiently]: SHOOT HER NOW!!

Lynch: He's not going to do it.

Will: WHY?!

Lynch: It's a staple of every form of media known to man: The hero being too inbred and imbecilic to shoot the enemy when they least expect it.

Olga tosses her hat overboard, presumably on Snake's orders as he slowly takes a step forward, keeping his gun pointed at her.

Olga: We are nomads. Wanderers.

Olga takes a step backwards, but Snake lunges forward, keeping his gun pointed at her.

Snake: DON'T FUCKING MOVE!!

Olga [Underwhelmed]: Americans...So you shoot women too?

Back inside the Tanker, Lynch shrugs.

Lynch: Whatever gets a paycheck.

Moe: We'd strap bombs to kittens if it meant some extra money!

The mercenaries laugh quietly, except Frank who frowns.

Frank: Hey. I like kittens.

Lynch: Well, that's no surprise, you must be able to relate to them extremely well since you're the king of pussies.

The tanker shakes roughly, knocking some of them off balance and sending Moe rolling across the floor. Outside, the storm subscedes somewhat, revealing a clear full moon hanging in the sky like a silver dime.

Olga: It's stopped raining..

Olga slightly looks over her shoulder.

Olga: It's not too shabby, is it? New York, I mean?

Without even a seconds hesitation, Olga swipes the knife forward, a gunshot exploding out as Snake quickly recoils, twisting around to hide back behind the long metal crate.

Lynch [Taken aback]: Woah. Knives with guns in the handles.

Frank: The Russians really do think of everything.

Olga quickly darts around a set of metal shelves, again to presumably hold armaments and not random Russian groceries, ducking behind it, and specifically the tarp attached to it, getting onto one knee and leaning around it, aiming her pistol at Olga.

Will: And another thing, why the hell is he only using a tranquilizer pistol?!

Lynch shrugs.

Frank: Plot advancement.

Will [Angrily]: FUCK THE PLOT! WE COULD GET THIS SHIT DONE WITH RIGHT HERE AND NOW!

Lynch [Sighing bitterly]: She's pregnant with Sunny, you dolt. Without Sunny, there's no-one to help program FOXALIVE and therefore no-one to destroy the Patriots AI.

Will: Alright, shut up, I think they're fighting.

The fighting seems to be little more than Snake aiming down his pistol while Olga darts between cover in front of him. Snake is far too slow at firing, while Olga is much too fast and firing a lethal pistol, which forces Snake to duck below cover.

Snake [Angrily]: DAMMIT!!

Olga ducks behind a metal crate, firing a shot which grazes Snake shoulder and forces him to duck behind the crate once again.

Olga: I have no-one! No-one except the unit! Nothing else matters to me!

Snake quickly lays on his stomach, army crawling towards a stack of two metal boxes and swiftly getting to his feet, flattening his back against them before jumping out from behind them, aiming down the sights at Olga, now hiding behind the metal crate. Snake fires a shot, but the dart hits Olga's shin, letting her quickly grasp the dart and pull it out, stumbling forward.

Lynch: 'Bout time he got a shot off.

Moe: Too bad she's still moving!

Olga fires off a quick shot, forcing Snake to duck back behind the crate. Olga stumbles around back to the metal shelves and swiftly shoots the connecting cables of the tarp, causing it to dislodge slightly and blow in the wind, obscuring the right of the metal shelves. Olga is effectively hidden, and any dart fired at them would essentially stick into the tarp. Olga swiftly throws a grenade over the shelves, forcing Snake to quickly grasp it and throw it overboard, letting off a loud explosion which rocks the tanker somewhat.

Moe: Must be a normal day in New York.

Lynch [Banging on the window]: THE TARP! SHOOT THE TARP, DAMN YOU!

Snake: ...Tarp?

Lynch [Banging his head off the window]: THE GREEN SHEET, YOU DUMB CUNT! THE GREEN SHEET!

Snake: Oh.

Snake quickly shoots the remaining connector cables of the tarp, causing it to blow away in the strong wind. Finally given a clear shot, Snake aims down the iron sights of the tranquilizer pistol.

Snake: And it's goodnight from me...[Nodding towards Lynch] And goodnight from hi--

Lynch [Banging desperately on the window]; STOP STALLING AND FUCKING SHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOTTTTTTTTTTT!!!!!!!!

Snake quickly fires the pistol, but Olga manages to avoid it.

Snake: Well, piss.

Lynch [Angrily]: YOU FUCKING IMBECILE!!

Olga ducks behind the shelves, slowly stumbling out out and ducking behind the lone metal crate. Snake hits his stomach again, army crawling to the left and kneeling behind a lone metal crate. Olga is now stumbling a lot more, the tranquilizer dart which hit her ankle clearly now taking its toll on her. Snake quickly jumps up from behind the cover as Olga stumbles over to her right. Snake quickly pulls the trigger, and a dart embeds itself into Olga's left shoulder, pumping more tranquilizer into her system and, thankfully, enough to send her stumbling onto the floor with a rough clatter.

Lynch: About fucking time.

Snake slowly edges forwards, aiming his pistol at Olga. Snake climbs up onto the outcropping which Olga was on, slowly moving forward and holstering his pistol, kneeling beside her and taking her USP Pistol, a lethal pistol which can actually fire bullets and which should have been brought by Snake in the first place. A security cam cypher, a flying circular device with a security cam attached on a metal tripod above it, flies by, taking a photograph of Snake as he gets to his feet.

Will: What the fuck was that?

Lynch: Who knows? I'm gonna go out there.

Will: Why?

Lynch [Shrugging]: Why not? Give him the heads up.

Will: Why?

Lynch [Narrowing his eyes]: Why not?

Will: Can I go?

Lynch: ...Why?

Will: So I can poke the body with a stick.

Moe [Sighing]: She's sleeping, Will, not dead.

Frank [Raising his hand]: Can I poke her too?

Will: It'll be the first time you've poked something vaguely feminine.

Frank: Hey, he's walking off!

Lynch: He's walking around, the dumbass.

Snake sighs, rubbing his eyes as he begins to head around the cabin and around the outside of it.

Snake: Can't believe this shit. Stuck here with them. At least someone's covering my ass.

Snake sighs bitterly, picking up into a jog.

Snake [Muttering]: Fucking women. ESPECIALLY Meryl. Bitch.

Snake moves around the bridge to the left hand side. The air is slick with the smell of iron and salt, and as Snake edges around the bridge, his foot hits a thicker liquid: Blood. Snake quickly moves out from cover and staring ahead. Snake blinks, looking at Robbie meditating, surrounded by several bodies of pastel-coloured ponies. Robbie opens his left eye. The entire deck is spattered with blood and shreds of skin and internal organs. Robbie himself, from his thick kriegsmarine overcoat to his leather boots, is spattered with clotting blood, and yet the man himself has a serene look on his face.

Robbie [Calmly]: Never forget this sight. The sight of a triumphant half-German, half-Briton having killed ponies.

Snake: .....I swear, did Naomi just jab me with FOXDIE, or some permanent fucking hallucinogens?!

Robbie: The New Lunar Republic was defeated on this day, for their friendship cannon was deflected by the shield of agony, and their faces stabbed with the blade of hatred.

Snake [Hysterical]: WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?!??!

Robbie: Triumph. Triumph over the plague. The plague that contaminates the world with happiness and rainbows. A plague that makes vile people like me uncomfortable. They started this war. I have struck the first blow.

Snake [Impatiently]: YOU'RE NOT MAKING SENSE!!

Robbie holds up the skull of a pony, looking at it.

Robbie: Poor Lyra, she wanted hands. I dug mine into her skull. She bled like a human, so she died like a human.

Snake [Sighing darkly]: Fuck it.

Robbie: That's what BonBon said, right before I tore out her eyes [Screeching] AND PINNED THEM TO MY LAPEL AS BADGES OF WARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!!!!!!!!

Robbie stands up tall, puffing his chest out and revealing two shrivelled eyeballs, optic nerves still raw and bloody, pinned to the wet fabric. Snake slowly shakes his head.

Snake: Alright, fuck it. Just fuck it. Fuck it with a titanic metal dick, because that shit right there is fucking insane.

Robbie: Partake with me in the ceremonial drinking of the blood--

Snake [Jogging towards the door]: FUCK THAT!

Snake quickly rushes through the door as it opens automatically before shutting, leaving Robbie in the pouring rain. Lightning flashes in the distance, scarring the New York skyline with a bright silver. Robbie slowly lifts his head, spreading out his arms and puffing out chest.

Robbie [Letting out an inhuman war cry]: AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Robbie suddenly drops down to one knee, bowing his head.

Robbie: Thy will be done.................Celestia.

Robbie's head snaps up, his left eye flashing dangerously as a bolt of lightning strikes the sky once more.

Back inside the tanker, away from the random plot twists and pop culture references, Snake has emerged onto the bridge from the opposite side of where he entered, dusting off his hands.

Snake: Alright, let's go.

Lynch: Robbie still being weird?

Snake [Sighing]: Hell yes.

Lynch: Then let's go. We can accompany you to the engine room, but after that, we have to head into the hold ourselves.

Snake: Why?

Lynch: So Ocelot doesn't suspect anything?

Snake: I see.

Will: Besides, aren't you supposed to be some super secret agent or some shit? What the fuck are you relying on us to hold your hand for?

Snake: I like the help.

Will: You over-rely on the help--

Lynch: I can't believe i'm saying this: Will, stop speaking sense. It's not nice.

Snake: SPEAKING SENSE?!

Lynch: Look, Snake, we're here to help and all, but you're taking our hospitality....way too fucking serious. Hell, we may have to ask you to cover our paycheck if you keep it up.

Snake: Why?!

Lynch: We're mercenaries. We only work for the money, which Ocelot and the United Nations are giving us. Now, the United Nations is only paying us to make sure you stay safe, not guide you through the mission--

Frank: That's an extra!

Lynch: Yes, that IS an extra, and all extra's need to be paid.

Snake: But I don't have any money.

Lynch: Then fuck right off and do that shit yourself!

Lynch jams his finger at the stairs.

Lynch: Get stepping. NOW!

Snake: I don't need to take this shi--

Lynch [Bellowing]: NOW!

Snake: Yes'm.

Snake slumps down the stairs, stopping halfway.

Snake [Confused]: ...How the fuck did he do that?!

*Engine Room*

Several floors below Lynch's feet sits the vast engine room, a sprawling mechanical contraption to power a Tanker carrying a top secret Metal Gear Prototype within it. The titanic engine, belching out scorching steam within the middle of its massive hold, is surrounded by a metallic rectangular catwalk, patrolled at intervals by several mercenaries. The hold is so vast that there are three levels of catwalks, with the engine still outmeasuring each one of them. Outside the engine room, on the starboard side, is a thin coridoor leading northwards, with a door on the right-hand lower corner. The door sweeps open and Phil's head peers through, weapons holstered as he slowly peers out from the door, looking up the coridoor.

Phil: There's a torch shining randomly on the wall.

Jericho: But is it possessed?

Phil: I don't know. Did you bring your girlfriend with you?

Jericho [Sarcastically]: Oh, how fucking funny you are!

Phil walks out from behind the door, followed by Jericho. Jericho in turn is followed by Brick as three of them sidle up the coridoor, swiftly flanked by Bob who is the last to walk through as the door slides shut behind him.

Bob: Damn, this is small.

Jericho: Yeah, well, they need room for the actual bloody engine.

The door slides open again and the mercenaries swiftly turn around. Bob fumbles for his gun, but stops when he sees Dean, who was previously patrolling randomly around the tanker, ahead of him, walking through the door with a slice of pizza in his left hand and his right hand behind his back.

Dean [Chewing greedily]: Hey guys.

Phil: What do you want?

Dean: Nothin'. Just popping by to give backup.

Jericho: Dean, we're not in some massive firefight. We don't NEED backup.

Dean: But everybody loves DEAN!

Jericho [Taken aback]: ...Yeeeah. Keep telling yourself that.

Dean quickly holds out a thin cardboard box.

Dean: Dean also brought pizza.

Phil [Happily]: EVERYONE LOVES THE DEAN!

Bob sighs.

Bob: You know, there's an entire wineglass of fat in that slice of pizza.

Dean: And did you know that there's an entire wine bottle of pussy inside you if you give a fuck? WE'RE GONNA DIE, FELLA'S! May as well enjoy it while it lasts.

Dean takes another bite, chewing it slowly.

Bob: That smells nice, actually.

Dean: Fuck you, health nut.

Phil: Speaking of health, what happened to The Man In The Banana Suit?

Brick: He left to roam the range, looking for more souls to steal...

Phil: If he didn't steal Pinkie's, we're fucked.

Phil, Bob, Jericho, Dean and Brick slowly sidle up the coridoor.

Jericho: Well, this is boring.

Phil: It's plot advancement, dammit.

Jericho: No, it's just passing time until Snake arrives.

Phil [Narrowing his eyes]: Why did you become such a smartass?!

Jericho: It's fun.

The group rounds the corner, into a locker room of sorts, which is little more than a large alcove, with five lockers against the wall in front of them. A torch is set on a large metal crate next to the wall behind them, shining for no apparent reason, while a large action figure of Vulcan Raven is set on the floor to their right, in front of a metal crate with its lid propped open.

Phil: Hey, look, there goes the fourth wall again!

Jericho [Sighing]: Amazing. They were terrorists who would destroy the world for money and Big Boss's corpse, and yet they get action figures instead of us.

Brick: Dude, we should totally put this figure in front of that torch and shine it at the wall!

Bob: Why?

Brick: It would totally freak some guy out!

Bob: ........How?

Brick: Aw, man, some guy walks up here and, like, they see the shadow an' think it's that Raven guy! And then he hollers and runs away!

Brick picks up the toy, walking over to the torch and looking over his shoulder, slowly positioning the action figure to display a large shadow on the wall behind them.

Bob: You'd have to be extremely fucking dense to think a stationary shadow is Vulcan Raven.

Snake rounds the corner, finally heading tow

Snake [Shocked]: .....Raven?!

Bob: Well, fuck, you're right.

Brick: Butter my ass and call me a biscuit, I'M RIGHT! YEEHAW!

Jericho slowly sniffs the air, looking at the line of lockers before wrinkling his nose critically.

Jericho: Anyone else smell that?

Brick sniffs the air.

Brick: ...Pulled pork.

Jericho slowly wanders over to a locker, getting on his tiptoes and sniffing at the slits in the top of the door before grabbing the handle, reaching for his belt and grabbing his Browning pistol.

Phil [Sarcastically]: JEEZ! LOOK OUT, JERRY! IT'S AN ARMED BARBECUE!

Jericho [Spitting]: Fuck you! I'm being safe!

Jericho quickly pulls the door open, and a stench of burnt, sweet flesh greets him. Jericho retches, quickly stepping back as a charred, unrecognisable pile of flesh and bleached bone slowly tips forward out of the locker, the jaw of the thing grinning ravenously as its body dripped with a clear juice that can only be described as melted, rendered fat still leaking from it.

Jericho [Horrified]: WHAT IN THE NAME OF BORIS JOHNSON'S TESTICLES IS THAT?!?!?!?!

Phil [Looking over]: Hey, look, he did steal Pinkie's soul.

Brick: Looks like he done charred it good.

Phil: I love the smell of roasted ponies in the morning. Smells like....victory.

Brick sniffs the air.

Brick: Smells like bacon!

Bob: Actually does.

Jericho: That's fucking awful..

Phil: That's life!

Brick: Life's a charred pink pony?

Phil: Sure is.

Bob: I'm pretty sure Dave killed her a few months back. Remember? When we were drugged?

Jericho: That wasn't really Pinkie.

Bob: What? AND THAT IS?!

Phil: Have you seen the reality we live in? We can travel through time, we have anthropomorphic super soldiers....apparently, and we have the United Nations commanding a mercenary force in order to rival the PMC companies popping up sporadically just to rake in some dough. The existence of tiny, cartoon-like neon-coloured ponies isn't too far of a stretch.

Jericho [Narrowing his eyes]: Hmm...you have a point..

Phil: Well, it's true. Fuck knows what experiments the United Nations have performed just to get a bit of extra cash. Remember that brony phenomenon that popped up a decade back?

Jericho [Snapping his fingers and thinking]: Hmm...I do vaguely remember it. Remember their Peaceful Revolution?

Phil [Smiling]: Ahhhh, great times.

Bob: Wasn't really peaceful, though. They started whining about being prosecuted for liking a little girls cartoon, they ran riot through New York, and burnt buildings and shit.

Jericho: And we got called in. One of our first operations together.

Brick: And we shot them.

Phil: Hey, I say we shot AT them and got lucky.

Jericho: Phil, you were the one who modified the water hose to fire napalm.

Phil [Taken aback]: I was fearing for my LIFE! Those bastards were getting rowdy!

Jericho: Because you were spraying liquid fire onto them as they huddled together!

Phil: Anyway, away from that breach of human rights and the Geneva Convention, as I was saying, who's to say that the UN didn't manufacture real actual ponies just to rake in some dough, eh?

Jericho: Because playing God is wrong.

Phil: Oh, right, because THAT'S stopped the United Nation's doing a ton of shit!

Snake, walking up the coridoor, clears his throat loudly. The mercenaries spin around.

Jericho: Well, speak of the devil, and he shall appear.

Snake: ....Back me up?

Jericho: Fuck right off. Lynch told us you're too stingy to pay for extra's.

Snake [Impatiently]: But your mission is to protect ME. ME. I'M the fucking hero!

Phil: Yes. Yes it is. But holding your hand and guiding you through every little conflict is an extra.

Brick: And we don't do extra's for free.

Snake [Scoffing]: This is fucking unbelievable!

Brick [Coldly]: Get's-a stepping.

Snake gives a sigh of desperation, rubbing his eyes and turning left, walking through the door and emerging into the engine room. Only one Gurlukovich mercenary appears to be on patrol, patrolling a thin metal catwalk which snakes rectangularly around the top of the engine, with Eligio, Johan and Karab huddled together, talking to eachother on the lowest catwalk level at the foot of the engine. Across the engine room, at the opposite end on the highest catwalk level, a door slides open and Will emerges, jogging over to the railing, hopping over it and landing on the catwalk below. Will blinks, looking around and seemingly amazed by the vast expanse of the engine room, to which he responds by simply leaping over the next railing and landing on the bottom catwalk of the

Will [Energetically]: HELLO, SLACKERS! IT IS I! THE MAN WHO HAS COME TO ORDER YOU ABOUT!!!

Eligio: Que?

Will: Si, el slackero bummo of moneyo.

Will walks over to the group, but Johan groans loudly, stretching his back and turning around, slowly walking towards Will. Will blinks rapidly, slowly stepping backwards into the railing behind him as the towering behemoth lumbers over him, staring down at Will.

Johan [Calmly]: Will, I can hammer nails into walls using my thumb. Imagine what I could do to you if I locked both my hands around your neck.

Will: ...Hug me?

Johan: I would rend you. I would tear off every ounce of skin, flesh and muscle until only your screaming skeleton remained.

Will stands there, stiff as a board, before whimpering slightly.

Will: Karab! Help me!

Karab: You dug your grave, now lie in it!

Will: Hey, I didn't want to pick on someone my own size! I wanted to pick on someone smaller!

Johan raises his right arm, slamming a clubbed fist down onto the top of Will's skull, knocking him out instantly and sending him collapsing to the floor. Karab walks over to Will, looking down at him and unsheathing the kukri from his belt.

Karab: I think i'll take that tongue of yours.

Maurice: OW! KARAB! YA CAN'NO DO THAT, LIKE! LYNCH'D KILL YA, AND I LIKE YA!

Karab: Good point.

Karab sheathes his kukri, looking up at Johan.

Karab: ...Uh, hi?

Johan: Hello, Karab. It appears you can fight your own battles these days.

Karab: Well, not really--

Johan: "Better to die than be a coward". Remember that, Karab?

Karab's left eye twitches.

Karab [Hissing]: Yes, Johan.

Johan: The Gurkha's motto. What would they think of you if they could see me fighting your battles?

Karab: What they already think of me: Despise my guts.

Johan: How sad.

Karab [Shrugging]: Such is life.

Guard: Can you lot just shut the fuck up and start patrolling?

Eligio scuttles behind the guard, grasping his legs and tipping him over the railing. The guard screams wildly as he plunges down into the depths of the engine room, flailing his arms in desperation.

Eligio: Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaand we have peace!

Karab: What's the point of peace? If Snake succeeds in exposing RAY, it just means the Marine's get pissed and start shooting us or some shit.

Eligio [Stroking his chin]: .......Hmm. You do have a point. But I just killed him for fun.

Will [Rolling his eyes]: Pff, as if the bloody Paki's right.

Karab's head snaps towards Will, his eyes flashing. Suddenly, he reaches into his back pocket, pulling out a roll of paper, unrolling it and looking at it.

Karab: Right, I did actually go to the trouble of making a special racist map.

Karab unrolls the map, turning it around so that Will can see it: The outline of the Indian continent, with Karab's grinning face pasted over India, while a photo of a frowning Karab is pasted over Pakistan.

Karab: See? I grin over where I am from. INDIA. Hyderabad, to be exact. And I frown over where I am not from, which is PAKISTAN. Do you understand that?

Will: ....You're an asshole.

Karab: And you have been educated!

Karab rolls up the map, hitting Will over the head with it lightly.

Karab [Coldly]: Now fuck off before I cut your dick off with my kukri.

Will: Fuck you, Indian.

Karab [Brightly]: SEE?! WAS THAT SO HARD?!

Snake jogs down a set of L-shaped stairs leading from the top-most catwalk, close to the door onto the middle level. Snake walks left around the stairs and heads forward, looking over his shoulder at the mercenaries. A set of stairs ahead of Snake and to his right leads down to the lowest catwalk which he swiftly jogs down, the sound of hissing steam audible to him. He peers to his left into a large alcove, looking down at a Gurlukovich Mercenary who appears to be asleep before turning right, jogging down three steps and onto the metal catwalk surrounding the behemoth engine. Snake jogs down the catwalk and turns right, coming face-to-face with the mercenaries.

Johan: Hey, look, it's Snake.

Will [Cheerfully]: SNAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAKE! Still killing, I see?

Snake [Shrugging]: I like it. Why are you idiots just standing around, anyway?

Karab: Waiting for the boss.

Snake: Which one? Lynch or Ocelot?

Karab: .........Lynch. [Quietly] I think.

Eligio: We're waiting for Lynch, Karab.

Snake: Sucks to be you assholes, jumping around for so many leaders.

Karab [Shrugging]: We get paid well.

On the top level catwalk to their left, Lynch emerges from the same door that Will emerged from, walking over to the metal railing and grasping it, looking down over at Karab, Will, Johan and Eligio. Lynch looks ahead, watching as Jericho emerges from the door across from him and giving a shrill whistle which echoes throughout the engine room.

Lynch [Clapping his hands]: HANDS OFF COCKS AND HANDS ON GLOCKS! WE'RE MOVING NOW!

Jericho [Calling over]: WE DON'T HAVE GLOCKS, GENIUS!!

Lynch [Yelling]: WHEN YOU GET YOUR ASS OVER HERE, KINGSTON, I'M GOING TO TEAR YOUR FUCKING SKULL OFF YOUR SHOULDERS AND USE IT AS A CONDOM!!!

Jericho gulps loudly as Dean, Bob, Brick and Phil emerge from the door behind him.

Phil [Calling out]: WHAT ABOUT EVERYONE ELSE?!

Lynch [Angrily]: They're waiting! We're heading to the Hold!

Phil: Why?

Lynch: Ocelot will be mosying on down there soon and I want to meet up with him to discuss payment!

A loud cheer goes up from the mercenaries.

Lynch: But that also means we may have to kill these Gurlukovich Mercenaries and the US Marines.

Another loud cheer goes up from the mercenaries.

Lynch [Taken aback]: Wow. Even killing your own countrymen isn't below you.

Robbie's Voice [From behind the door]: Not my countrymen.

Phil: Mine neither.

Jericho: Nore mine.

Ivan's Voice [From behind the door]: Nyit.

Sal [Popping his head through the door]: Not mine either.

Maurice's Voice [From behind the door]: Aye! Not mine, lad!

Billy's Voice [From behind the door]: Me neither.

Dave [Moving out from behind Dean]: And i'd kill anything, regardless of nationality.

Lynch [Underwhelmed]: ....Yeah, but lest you forget, these men are well-trained killing machines--

Phil [Laughing]: Right, because 'well-trained killing machines' managed to leave a Tanker unsecured and now have several hundred mercenaries running amok on the floors above them.

Lynch [Sighing darkly]: You know the American defence budget was cut recently. They can't spare the manpower.

Robbie [Folding his arms]: There's three holds filled with Marines watching one speech, and you're telling me that they couldn't send three or four men from each hold to make sure the Tanker was actually secured?

Lynch: ..Look, piss off, will you? I don't know how they work these days. It's been around a decade since I left the Marine Corps. JUST GET UP HERE!

Eligio: Got it, boss!

Phil [Looking over his shoulder at Dave]: Where the fuck did you come from?

Dave: I needed a piss.

Phil: Trying to hide from doing any work, huh?

Dave [Shrugging]: I prefer shooting, not patrolling.

Bob: Yeah, well, let's move before he follows up on his threat.

Snake: What about me?

Lynch: Huh?--Oh, you. You go ahead. We'll follow and make sure no-one gets the drop on you.

Snake walks ahead and turns right, jogging up three steps before jogging forward and heading up a large set of stairs , heading straight forward across the catwalk surrounding the engine. Will, Karab, Johan and Eligio followed as the others began to make their way down and around.

Lynch [Sighing]: What a sorry bunch of cunts you all look like.

Vince's Voice [From behind him]: Hey!

Lynch [Angrily]: THAT INCLUDES YOU TOO, WEEABOO!!!

Lynch sighs, slamming his head against the doorframe as Snake walks up the catwalk towards him, flanked by Eligio, Will, Karab and Johan.

Lynch: Get moving.

Snake [Mumbling]: Yeah, yeah...

Lynch steps backwards into a small coridoor, where most of the mercenaries are crushed into. Snake runs out in front of them, heading up the coridoor and into a small control room, with two large computer stations on the wall ahead, as well as three, odd-looking angular nodules set in the middle of the room. Snake walks around them, heading towards the coridoor, only to stop.

Snake: Fuck.

Lynch walks into the room, flanked by a group of mercenaries. Will pushes his way to the front.

Will: Whaaaaaaaaaaat?!

Billy grabs Will by the scruff of his neck, dragging him backwards.

Snake: Semtex.

Lynch [Sighing]: Aw hell, MORE Semtex?

Frank: He's real serious about blowing this Tanker to shit, isn't he?

Will: Why do all the insane people get explosives?

Lynch: It ain't Walmart, they don't conduct checks, he just gets them off foreign arms dealers

Will: And why are they all foreign? Aren't there any domestic arms dealers? AMERICAN JOBS FOR AMERICAN WORKERS!!!

Lynch [Shrugging]: We're too busy using unmanned drones to bomb the fuck out of ragheads.

Bob, Phil, Jericho, Dean and Brick emerge from the doorway, joining the rest of the mercenaries, leading to a full, if slightly pathetic, force of mercenaries to guide Snake towards the last legs of his mission.

Bob: Aw, man, that's racist, Lynch.

Lynch: I AM A RACIST AND I AM PROUD!!!

Karab gives a small whine. Lynch reaches his hand out, patting Karab's head.

Lynch: Only to people I don't like, kitten....Only to people I don't like....

Karab smiles contently.

Karab: Good.

Will: Jesus, get a room, will you?

Voice: FREEZE!! DO NOT MOVE YOU PEEGS!!

The mercenaries suddenly halt.

Lynch: Uh oh.

Voice: VELL, IF IT ISN'T MARCUS LEENCH!!

Lynch: I know that voice.

Lynch walks ahead, flanked by several mercenaries as Snake slowly steps backwards. A humming sound fills the air as the guard stomps forward towards Lynch, cutting through the laser detectors placed on either side of the coridoor ahead that barred Snake's passage.

Lynch [Quickly]: Hey, I know--

The guard punches him roughly in the forehead. Lynch stumbles backwards, caught by Bob and Bill who keep him on his feet as the guard rips his ski mask off to reveal the scarred face of Fabien, a French genome soldier they had come across during Shadow Moses.

Mercenaries [Happily, in unison]: FABIEN!!!

Fabien [Chuckling]; IDIOTS!! IS GOOD TO SEE YOU ALL ALIVE!!! Kept busy, non?

Lynch: Ah, y'know, accepting contracts, getting paid and shit. You?

Fabien: Ah, after our little adventure in Shadow Moses, I returned home to Marseille! Of course, was boring, so I accepted Ocelot's invitation to help secure zis Tanker! Zat is why you are here, oui?

Lynch: Yep.

Fabien: GOOD! GOOD! No having to kill my friends!

Lynch: We've been told to get down to the hold. Ocelot getting ready to steal the top secret weapon?

Fabien: Once we pass the Verrazano Bridge checkpoint? Oui.

Lynch: And when will--

Loudspeaker: VERRAZANO BRIDGE CHECKPOINT PASSED.

Frank: Huh.

Loudspeaker: ALL NON-ESSENTIAL PERSONNEL, REPORT TO THE HOLD IN TEN MINUTES TIME FOR THE SCHEDULED BRIEFING SESSION WITH THE COMMANDANT. YOU ARE ORDERED TO CONTINUE MANNING YOUR POSTS UNTIL THAT TIME.

Fabien: Vell, follow me. Ve are going into ze hold!

Maurice: Why?

Fabien [Snapping his fingers]: TO GET ZE DROP ON ZESE AMERICAN PEEGS!!! No offence.

Mercenaries [In unison]: None taken.

Fabien: Ocelot vants us to take RAY, right? Vell, I say ve ignore ze other mercenaries, ve get a head start and ve go underneath zese peegs! Like La Resistance, ve burrow beneath zem, and ve STRIKE!

Lynch: ....Whatever. If it ends with us getting paid, i'd even let Sal take point--

Sal slowly steps forward, but Lynch's arm shoots out, barring him.

Lynch [Growling]: Do it and I will tear off your leg, shove it up your ass and use you as a goddamn baseball bat.

Sal slowly steps backwards.

Lynch: So lead the way, you snail-eating, wine-drinking, cheese-eating, surrendering, complaining, whining, pretentious, rude, snobbish pile of French shit!

Fabien spins around on his heels, snapping them together and clicking his fingers.

Fabien: ONVARDS!!!

Fabien marches up the coridoor.

Jon [Whispering, to Lynch]: Are we seriously taking orders from that frog?

Lynch: I can take him if he fucks us over.

Moe: He kicked your ass in Shadow Moses! He damn near killed you!

Lynch: ....Thanks for the vote of confidence, Moe.

 

Billy: But he did kick yeh ass!

Lynch [Angrily]: FOLLOW! NOW!

Mercenaries: Yes'm.

Snake: Uh, assholes, I know this is your story, but what about me?

Lynch stops, standing aside with the rest of the mercenaries.

Lynch: Go on ahead.

Snake jogs forward to the end of the coridoor, grasping another door and twisting the circular handle, wrenching it open and jogging in as the door slowly eases shut.

Lynch [Quietly]: Prick.

Snake [Loudly]: I HEARD THAT!

Lynch: Yeah. You were meant to.

The mercenaries head pass the laser detectors and follow Fabien who grasps the door, twisting the circular handle and pulling it open. While the coridoor ahead seems to be straight, the area is dark, lit only by sickly orange lamps which gives the metal a rusted colour. Hypnotic drips sound occasionally from the pipes, riddled with condensation thanks to the mix of icy metal and intense heat being emitted from the steam that occasionally bursts out from a nearby or overhead pipe. As the mercenaries file through the door, Fabien steps over a Gurlukovich Mercenary who has a gaping hole in his chest, the wound spreading blood across the metal floor.

Fabien: Vell, our friend is safe! Oui, he might be able to do this himself.

Lynch: ...So, Fabien.

Fabien: Oui?

Lynch: How come we bumped into eachother?

Fabien [Laughing heartily]: Tis fate, mon friend!

Lynch: No, seriously, how?

Sal: Maybe he likes you.

Lynch: Wha?

Sal flickers his eyebrows.

Sal [Emphasising]: LIKES YOU.

Lynch: 'Scuse me for a moment, Fabien.

Fabien: Oui.

Lynch stops suddenly, causing the queue of mercenaries to stop. Lynch spins around, delivering a phenomenal right hook to Sal's jaw which sends him flying backwards into Billy who catches him before dropping him to the floor.

Billy: Och, nice shot.

Lynch [Wiping his knuckles on his fatigues]: Nah. If it was nice, I would've punched his fucking head off.

Fabien [Quickly]: SILENCE!

The mercenaries fall silent, continuing to walk slowly towards the end of the long coridoor. As they approach it, the sound of gunfire is audible.

Lynch: FUCK! THAT BASTARD'S IN A FIREFIGHT!

Frank: Wait, what?

Lynch [Impatiently]: ALRIGHT LADIES! MOVE IT! DOUBLE TIME!

Lynch twists right around the coridoor, jogging forward with his AKS-74U clutched tightly in his hands. The entire Tanker rattles and echoes with the footsteps of the mercenaries as they follow their dear leader into battle. At the end of the coridoor, muzzle flashes are visible in the darkened depths, indicating where Snake managed to reach before being cornered in a firefight. Lynch reaches the end of the coridoor, turning right: Snake is huddled  to the side of an open archway, while several Gurlukovich Mercenaries are ahead of an alcove directly in front of him, huddled behind their own open archway as well as several metal boxes packed tightly into the coridoor. One leaps out, firing a shot at Snake.

Gurlukovich Mercenary [Hissing]: QUICK! GET ZE DROP ON HIM!

Lynch quickly turns his head left, watching as Jericho skids to a halt behind him, flanked by Dean, Billy, Maurice, Moe and Bob.

Jericho: Well, this is certainly a sticky predicament.

Lynch [Angrily]: DAMMIT! CAN'T WE END THIS QUICKLY?!

Jericho [Grinning]: Oh yes we can. MAURICE!!

Maurice's blob-like head peers above the crowd. Jericho reaches into his back pocket, pulling out a Frey Bentos Minced Beef Pie, a vile British concoction consisting of limp pastry covering fatty, greasy gravy-laden meat wrapped in a frisbee-shaped tin, a foodstuff that none but the British could even begin to eat. Maurice's eyes widen, seeing this nostalgic foodstuff, and he quickly begins to jog forward, his girth shoving the mercenaries aside and parting them like the Red Sea.  Jericho quickly throws the pie forward, hitting the top of Snake's head and bouncing off of it towards the Gurlukovich Mercenaries huddling for cover.

Gurlukovich Mercenary: Vell, that's an intevesting grenade.

Second Gurlukovich Mercenary [screaming]: THE FAT ONE MOVES!!! GET DOWN!!

Maurice barrels past Jericho at the speed of sound, hurtling forwards towards the Gurlukovich Mercenaries. With a vicious war cry, Maurice leaps forward into a flurry of blood and fists, tearing the mercenaries apart with his bare hands. One Gurlokovich Mercenary tries to limp towards Snake, but Maurice grabs him with his skillet-like hands, grabbing his legs and tearing apart like a wishbone, spraying the hold with blood and internal organs. Maurice's eyes flash dangerously as one Gurlukovich Mercenary, crawling forward with only bloody, bone-spiked stumps for legs, grasps the tin, only for Maurice to jump up as much as his weight will allow and bring his entire weight down on the back of the mercenaries neck, causing his head to pop like a pimple and spray blood, mucus and brain matter across the floor. After doing so, all that is left is a pool of blood spreading across the coridoor, thick enough to reach the ankles of their boots, and one panting Maurice, pie tin in hand as he glances down at the ripped and torn bodies that now spatter the coridoor.

Lynch: Well. Fuck.

Fabien: Haha! Even ze fat one knows how to fight!

Maurice [Waving the tin]: Mine, yeh bastards.

Moe: He's dangerous when you get in the way of his food. It's something we've all learnt the hard way.

Snake [Slowly rising to his feet]: For some reason, this doesn't surprise me anymore.

Frank: Well, you do get used to it.

Snake: What now? I don't want to fight through three holds of Marines.

Dave [Dusting off his hands]: Oh, i'll kill your share--

Fabien: --HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA Non. I know a shortcut. Follow me! We can go underneath zese Marines!

Sal: Like dangerous moles!

Fabien: ...Non. Like guerilla fighters.

Sal: Dangerous guerilla fighter moles--

Moe: Sal, shut up.

Fabien walks through the middle of the coridoor, turning right into the segment between the torn mercenaries and Snake towards a large door leading down into the holds. Fabien grasps the circular handle, twisting it and wrenching it open before looking over his shoulder.

Fabien [Cheerfully]: Into ze breach!

The mercenaries file through the door behind Fabien, one-by-one entering the hold where the Marine Commander is giving his tedious speech. As Maurice, bringing up the rear, squeezes through the door, a Gurlukovich mercenary slowly sidles out from cover, scuttling towards the door and grasping it, slowly sliding it partway shut before giving a thankful sigh and hanging his head.

Spurs jangle throughout the hold.

The soldiers head snaps up the coridoor before he gives another sigh: Revolver Ocelot, still clad in his brown leather trenchcoat, slowly walks up to the soldier.

Soldier: Oh, Shalashaska. Why are you here? I thought you were with the colonel?

Ocelot reaches for his side and grasps his revolver, swiftly drawing it and aiming it between the soldiers eyes.

Soldier [Surprised]: What the--!

Ocelot swiftly pulls the trigger, and with an echoing gunshot the soldiers head snaps back, blood spraying out of the large exit wound blown into the back of his skull. The soldier lumbers for a few seconds before slowly collapsing onto his side, blood spraying out of his wound and pooling on the floor in a crimson puddle. Ocelot slowly walks over to the door of the hold, grasping it and slowly shutting it, twisting the handle and sealing it.

Ocelot [Looking down at the dead soldier]: The colonel will be joining you soon....comrade.

Ocelot finishes twisting the handle, dusting off his hands and looking around, giving a guttural sigh.

Ocelot [Mumbling to himself]: Where are those damned idiots?

Bill: Man, did you have to shoot him?

Ocelot looks over his shoulder: The wandering Bill is standing behind him, looking over his shoulder at the corpse of the Gurlukovich mercenary.

Ocelot: It was necessary

Bill: It really wasn't.

Ocelot backhands Bill, sending him sprawling to the floor and clutching his jaw.

Ocelot [Angrily]: NEVER QUESTION ME, FOR I AM THE KING.

Bill [Rubbing his jaw]: Well, just so you know, those idiots are in the Hold already--

Ocelot [Taken aback]: WHAT?!

Bill: ...I know, I'm too slow for this shit.

Ocelot [Sighing darkly and rubbing his eyes]: They're not supposed to be in the hold yet!!

Bill [Shrugging]: We haven't received our pay yet.

Ocelot: Fucking mercenaries..

Bill: We're loyal. Besides, you underestimate our cowardice. It's not like they'll willingly engage actual Marines!

Ocelot: It's not about willingly engaging them, I'm worried about them fucking stumbling into them!

Bill [Patting Ocelot on the back]: Well, don't worry, I'm here. I'll protect you.

Dean suddenly pops up behind Bill, grinning inanely.

Dean: HELLO FRIEND.

Ocelot [Sighing]: Fuck.

The scene cuts to black.