Ranma 1/2 Fan Fiction / Fan Fiction ❯ Metal Gear Ranma ❯ Chapter III: A Ghost's Shadow ( Chapter 3 )
[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]
By: Slackerchan 
The game begins...
Anime/Manga: Ranma 1/2 Fan Fiction / Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Suspense / Martial Arts / Drama / Action | Type: Crossover | Uploaded On: 11.28.2003 | Pages: 4 | Words: 10.5K | Visits: 1.0K | Status: Completed
The game begins...
Anime/Manga: Ranma 1/2 Fan Fiction / Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Suspense / Martial Arts / Drama / Action | Type: Crossover | Uploaded On: 11.28.2003 | Pages: 4 | Words: 10.5K | Visits: 1.0K | Status: Completed
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters used in this story except for the ones created by the author. All of the characters except for said claimed characters used belong to their respective owners. This piece of fan fiction is not for profit. I created this story, so therefore it belongs to me. Note that the views of the characters in no way depict or reflect that of the author or actual persons. Any relationships to actual persons or entities is strictly coincidental.
Special thanks to Amy Holt for editing and reviewing, as well as having a site to post it on.
Special thanks also goes to Jill-chan “The Editor Formerly Known As 'The Eepster'” for editing and reviewing.
Special thanks also also goes to the owner of "Ranchan & Co. Crossing Bridges" for having an alternate site to post this on.
Comments, questions, and criticism can be made out to Slackerchan@aol.com
Tactical Espionage Action
Metal Gear Ranma
By Chris Davis
Chapter 3: A Ghost's Shadow
"So, this is who you chose to save the planet."
-Armageddon
Onboard the USS Discovery
18:37 to Deadline
Beneath the vast, frigid sea off the coast of the state of Alaska, a silent predator stalked toward a point of contact that, to anyone else not privileged, would never know about within their lifetime without resorting to illegal means. This predator was the USS Discovery (SSBN-732), a cold and efficient member of the 'Silent Service' of the United States Navy. Though officially she had been originally designed to be an Ohio class ballistic missile submarine, she was actually what was becoming to be known as a 'Hybrid', as it was commonly referred to as by the top brass of the Navy. A 'Hybrid' was one of the newest ventures of the Pentagon, though not at all old in design. The ideal was that of combining the base designs of two or more classes of submarines to create a new menace to the enemy, whomever it may be. The Discovery, upon its completion, had become an adaptation of the Sea Wolf and Ohio classes, combining the strength and load out of the Ohio with that of the sleekness and reliability of the Sea Wolf, yielding one of the deadliest vehicles ever to dive below the surface.
Like any other submarine within the Navy, she was of monstrous proportions, measuring nearly five hundred sixty feet long and displacing close to sixteen thousand five hundred tons when not submerged. And, like any other submarine, almost every aspect of her was kept in secret, only the operators and the 'old men' of that branch of the armed forces being privy to the information. Officially, she was able to pull a maximum speed of twenty-five knots. Unofficially, she could reach nearly thirty-seven, threatening to rival that of the long contested Alfa class Russian/USSR submarines, which were believed to touch off at forty knots. Officially, she could dive to eight hundred feet. Unofficially, close to a rigorous depth of eleven hundred. The list continued on and on, passing the limit of what a normal person could imagine.
And it was onboard this weapon of war that a young man by the name of Ranma Saotome stood awaiting his impending 'shuttle to hell' as he was beginning to believe it was going to be like. Launched out of torpedo tube, he thought, he had heard the phrase sometime before in an old war movie, though he had never heard of it actually being carried out. The even thought of being jet propelled into a shockingly freezing ocean still shot a shiver down his spine, though he knew that that was not about to happen. As he had been briefed, he was going to be extradited inside a SDV, which would insure him of making it through the process alive and well.
The young man remembered skimming over the specifications of the swimmer delivery vehicle, which he found surprising to say the least. The SDV itself was, by all appearances, much like that of the Mk. 54 torpedo, one of the most innovative weapons ever to be used in ASW by the Navy. However, below the armor plating, a hollowed out space could be revealed, large enough for a single man to lie in. A coffin more like it, Ranma conceded, though it held many life preserving features, such as a pressure equalizer and a two hour supply of oxygen, which he would use until the trip came to an end at his inevitable destination.
He stood in the briefing room of the submersible, where he was joined with a technician and the Colonel. The tech, who turned out to be the same one that had assembled the electrical equipment right before his briefing just hours before, was now helping him with his Codifying Satellite Communication System, more commonly known as the CODEC, as well as his SOLITON radar system, which was currently being attached to his wrist, not unlike a large watch, though Ranma was not sure whether or not the thing even told time.
"Now remember Ranma," Campbell began, "you will get a full explanation of your equipment on sight, but for now, I think you will be able to figure out exactly what they are." The Colonel paused as the tech finished attaching the device, wanting to let the youth get a feel for it before continuing. "There are two different modes, the communications mode and the radar mode, which you can easily switch between by pressing the button on the side. When you are in communications mode, you can change the designated frequency by pressing either of the arrows up or down till you get to the right frequency, then press the green button at the top to contact the person. You won't have to worry about a microphone, as the data gathered by your voice is transferred from your nanomachines to the codec itself, which sends out the information to us, as such will be returned to you within your ear drum, so you won't have to worry about the problem of the enemy hearing you. Also, there is a miniature camera on the device itself so we can keep in video contact if audio were to go out. My frequency is one four zero point eight five. You can also get in contact with Dr. Hunter through this frequency if needs be."
Ranma pressed the gray button on the left of the watch and watched as it came alive with a green rectangular box filling up most of the screen and a five digit number shown below it, undoubtedly the frequency number. He pressed the gray button again and the screen emptied, leaving nothing but a blank display. Impressive, he couldn't help but think. "And what about the radar?" he asked.
"The radar is designed to function in stationary environments, so, since the submarine is moving, it won't be able to display anything useful. I can tell you that it will display a basic example of the terrain around you, showing barriers and enemy soldiers, along with an approximation of the enemy's visibility and hearing radius." Campbell answered.
Hmm, cool, Ranma thought. It would be useful in the blizzard, but he still wanted to know one thing. "Does it tell time though?" This was meant to be both a little humorous and, at the same time, quite serious, since he knew he had an eighteen hour time limit to reclaim what had be pillaged by the 'bad guys' and he felt that it would be better to know it rather than having to call just to find out.
The Colonel gave him a look of perplexity before realizing what he had meant, grinning as it hit him. "Yes, it will be displayed just below the radar."
"Okay, anything else I need to know?" Saotome asked.
His smile quickly disappeared. "You'll get a full brief of your equipment on site, but I should remind you that you will have to do weapons OSP, as we cannot risk having one of them discharging inside the torpedo, lest it explode. Also, your suit will, of course, provide you with protection from the elements as well as some minor protection from bullets. I must emphasize minor because it is not a piece of kevlar."
Ranma looked down at himself, drawing his gaze to the mentioned article of clothing. Just as he had seen it during his enlightening talk half a day previous, it was almost exactly like a scuba suit, yet it had some significant differences. The three piece suit, consisting of the 'pants', 'shirt', and 'vest', as well as having a set of gloves, were all specifically colored a metallic blue or dark gray color, at which, upon moving it under different lighting, shifted in color, melding into the metal background. Ranma had repeated the process several times before being fully convinced of its full potential of keeping him hidden inside the base. He had put on both the bottom and upper portions of the outfit and was now fitting the gloves on himself. It had felt, as Dr. Naomi had described, like a second set of skin, though it felt nothing like flesh when he touched it with his hand. It was very tight, making it a bit hard for him to move, but he took it in stride, knowing that it would in the end help him flex easier when out of it rather than obscure his abilities.
He gave off a sigh and nod of recognition, letting the older man know that he was ready. Campbell gave him the once over, a final inspection before allowing the man to enter the SDV, just a couple dozen feet down the passageway. "I think you are ready. Report to the torpedo room for a final briefing before launch."
"Yes sir." Ranma automatically responded, his time in the military having stuck with him. Bringing his right leg behind him, he did an about face and started toward the door.
He was stopped, however, when the voice of the Colonel spoke again. "Good luck son."
Ranma did not turn around, but he did respond. "Thank you, sir." With that, he walked out of the older man's sight.
***
In the bridge of the vessel, Captain Daniels stood in silence at the conn while his crew continued their work. He looked up at the clock above his head, which was counting down until the approximate time in which they would be in position to launch. Just an hour ago, he had come to periscope depth to transmit their precise location to Elmendorf, where the little diversion was about to take off from and rendezvous in approximately thirty minutes. It read four minutes and fifty-four seconds, plenty of time for him to go over his plan once again, just to make sure that there would be know errors.
Daniels was indeed new to commanding and being responsible for the lives of every single crewman aboard a submarine, and while he was still filled with apprehension about it, he would not let it show, though his executive officer probably could tell from right off the bat. Having graduated from an executive officer himself to the rank and pay grade of captain just eight months previous, he felt immense pride that he had gotten the position and felt that he would have to make this the best sub within the Navy.
However, over the course of the past twenty-four hours, his rule had been mortally challenged by the arrival of Colonel Campbell and his team. He still could not believe that, of all the submarines off the coast of Alaska, which was quite numerous contrary to popular belief, he had been stuck with the task. The crew had been informed that they were to undergo a war game involving special operations personnel and that the crew would have to adjust to their presence. Of course, the officers onboard and the operations team itself knew better.
The thing that was really starting to get on his nerves was the kind of people onboard. More specifically, the women. Within fifteen minutes of seeing them onboard, he knew that he was going to lose control of the men's morale, as there had already been a few 'accidental encounters' in the passage ways between some of the men and the women. In truth, he could not help but be attracted somewhat to them, the oriental one catching quite an interest with him, but he knew that his girlfriend back on shore would rather not like to hear that story, when he was drunk or otherwise.
No, he thought, I've got to focus on the mission. The sooner they are off ship, the better. Pushing the thought out of his mind, he refocused on the task at hand and walked over to the map table, which he used to it's name and then some. The sea charts were in just the same spot that he had left it in an hour previous, laying out the current course projection and the firing point he had selected for delivering the operative. Also marked on the map was the location and range of the sonar buoys that surrounded Shadow Moses Island. Shadow Moses was as close to a fortress as there could be for ten thousand miles in every direction, having broad, steep cliffs covering the entire perimeter and a layout perfect for preventing an invasion force of Marines or someone else. Also, though not meant to be impenetrable to Naval forces, the island did incorporate a small network of sonar sensors which had a range of nearly twenty five thousand yards, though convergence zones could extend the range of the sonar pings. For this possibility, the Captain was bringing his ship in at fifteen knots at near ultra quiet alert, wary of being detected. When he reached the approximated position of deployment, he would have the Discovery cut all engines and check the surrounding waters for any enemy vessels.
During his briefing with in the ward room of his officers close to five hours before, he had himself learned that the island had a set of twin patrol boats which were used by the soldiers and staff mainly for transits to and from Unalaska, the closest thing to a town within a hundred miles, and, rarely, for their intended purpose: patrolling. Each ship had its own little dock within or alongside the island itself, one of them being on the southern tip inside a cave and the other on the eastern side, where the cliffs were not so steep. The southern one had been chosen for a variety of reasons, but most primarily of which was that, even though it was the farthest from the nuclear storage building and the primary objective, the command center, it was the believed to be the least guarded and offered the best opportunity for a surgical insertion. The other, while easier to approach, was most likely more heavily guarded than the southern one due to the proximity to the barracks and weapons stockpile. The only other reason for the selection was of the patrolling times estimated for the boats themselves. On a normal day, each could circle the island in less than twenty minutes; the weather was guaranteed to hamper their patrol route, decreasing their complete encirclement to double that time, forty minutes. That left the operative nearly a whole half hour to get inside.
They were not his primary concern however. Even though the boats themselves could serve as a potential threat via depth charges, he mostly feared helicopter launched aerial torpedoes. According to naval intelligence, there had been significant activity on an island within the Aleutian chain less than forty five miles from Shadow Moses, mostly choppers. They had advanced a theory that those choppers had delivered the terrorists to the base and were on stand by in case something came up and additional support or extraction was needed. If the Discovery were to be detected and a torpedo was dropped on them, they would be in serious trouble. Daniels would have to keep the submarine at a depth no greater than two hundred feet in order to keep satellite communication with the operative active, which was a great departure from the previous sixty or so feet required a few years previous, and if they were to keep this position and the attack came, the Discovery would not even be able to get her engines to full speed before the torpedo hit. These were not deep waters, so there would be little room to maneuver.
The good thing the Captain knew was that his weapons had far better range than anything else in the region. Consisting of four torpedo tubes and twenty-four vertical missile launch tubes, she could easily start and end a small war in a very minute amount of time. Her primary weapon was the Mk. 48 ADCAP, which had a range in excess of thirty thousand yards and a heavy warhead, guaranteeing an almost certain kill from any distance. The vertical tubes, however, were a completely different story. Designed to launch SLBMs, these were designed to kill millions instead of just winning battles, a lasting effect of the Cold War and a standard for the missile 'Hybrids' in the New Cold War. They would only be used as a last resort should the circumstances necessitate them. He did not plan on nuking a multi billion dollar disarmament facility, but if the needs be...
Daniels looked up from the map to see the XO standing right by him. "We have arrived at the designated location Captain, awaiting your orders."
He must have been out longer than he had thought, the Captain thought. "Very well then." He turned back to the conn and approached it. Looking up from his position, he reached for the 1MC just above his head and brought the microphone to his lips. He flipped a switch and said, "Sonar, ESM, Conn. Report all contacts."
He did not have to wait long for the response from the sonar room. "Conn, Sonar. Nothing on my scope right now, I believe that the p-t boats are on the other side of the island fighting the waves."
Another voice spoke, this one being the ESM supervisor. "Conn, ESM. No contacts so far, there has been no traffic since enter these waters sir."
Daniels spoke again. "Roger, keep an eye out for anything suspicious, and be sure to let me know when the p-t boats start to make their southern turn."
Both of the operators acknowledged the order and the Captain hung up. He picked it back up again and spoke, "Torpedo Room, Conn. Get the operative briefed on and inside of the SDV as soon as possible."
"Torpedo Room, Conn. Aye, sir." came the reply.
***
Inside the torpedo room, Ranma watched as the supervisor hanged up from the microphone system and turned to him. "Okay sir," the man said to him, "let me explain the components of the SDV."
Ranma was led to what was no doubt the vehicle itself, which was nearly nine feet long and about three feet in diameter. Pressing a button on the outer surface of the object, a hiss and a pop came from it as a hatch slowly opened up. Inside, he saw what looked like a cushioned floorboard, probably the place he would have to lie down on for the duration of the trip. "You will have to lay down on your stomach and stay in the middle to avoid hitting the walls. You can expect a lot of what could be called turbulence for the first few minutes after launch, but it should even out soon after that. The air tanks and the pressurization will prevent you from having to use your scuba tanks while it is moving, which should in the end help you out when you get out." He bent down and pointed to the end of the space. "Over there is a digital video camera which is attached to the outside of the SDV. When it comes time to get out of the unit, first look into it to see if there are any problems outside that might hamper you. It comes equipped with a set of night vision and infrared lenses that you can easily and readily switch between by pressing the button to the right, which cycles through the different lenses themselves."
He pointed to a red light. "You see this? It will tell you the reliability of the pressure within. Red means it is not pressurized, which is bad, and green means you are pressurized, so you are good. It should stay green during the entire trip, but if at any time it goes red, put on your scuba mask and attach your oxygen as soon as possible." The man looked at Ranma's face to see if he understood, who just looked him in the eye, which held stern with seriousness. "The hatch should automatically pop open and you can escape. When the SDV stops, the light will start flashing red. When this happens, you have thirty seconds to put on the scuba attachment and begin breathing out of it. After the time is up, the hatch will open and fill with water. Be sure to only try to exit when the tube is full, otherwise, you'll be caught in the suction and may lose control. From there on out, you'll have to swim."
The supervisor finished and looked Ranma in the eye. What he swore he saw was both a sense of fear and of readiness, a good sign in his eyes. He offered his hand to him. "Good luck sir."
Stepping into the pod, Saotome took and shook the hand of the man who, most likely, would be the last friendly face he would see without the use of a electronic device for the next day or so. He relinquished his hand and set it on the edge of the hatch frame for balance as he brought his other foot inside it. The material was quite soft considering he had originally thought it was just a few sheets of shock absorbing rubber. Bending, he laid down on the stomach just as instructed and waited for the next step. It was but seconds later when the hatch was shut and pressurization began, shutting him off from the outside of the ship. A short time later, the red light inside the compartment turned green, signifying that he was good to go.
"Oh boy," he spoke, "sounds easy, just a half an hour bumpy ride inside a metal coffin underwater heading to a place where I am going to kill people. How hard could it be?" The sarcasm was definitely there.
He laid there in the green illuminated space for several minutes, waiting for something to happen. Nothing did. He was just about to bang on the hatch when he heard a distinct beeping sound, one that he caught him slightly off guard. The codec, he realized. Turning to his left hand, he reached over and pushed the green button. He watched as the screen changed from nothingness to a green display of the Colonel, a video transmission. "Relax Ranma, we are just doing a final test of the equipment just to make sure it works both at long and short range." the figure said. "Can you respond?"
"What exactly do you want me to say then?" Ranma asked.
Campbell chuckled. "I think you already did that for us." The figure's face dropped then. "Unfortunately, we just got word that the weather has hit a rough spot, so if we need to get in touch with one another, it will probably have to be brief and to the point, otherwise, we could have some technical problems on our end. Remember, my frequency is one four zero point eight five, understood?"
"Yes, sir."
"Good. I was just informed by the Captain that you will be launched in a few minutes, so sit tight. Campbell out." The screen emptied and was replaced with the frequency number, which also disappeared shortly after that. Silence took over once again.
***
Back on the bridge, Daniels watched as Colonel Campbell walked back into room and took up a position out of the way, not wanting to interfere in any way. The Captain turned away, looking forward the bow. He still had not heard from the sonar supervisor, but he hoped that-
His train of thought was interrupted however when the sound of the man he had been wanting to hear from came over the 1MC. "Conn, sonar. We are picking up the p-t boats now sir, looks like they will make it around the southern tip in the next five minutes."
This was it, Daniels thought, now was the time to take action. He took the microphone, brought it to his lips and gave the command. "Fire Control, Torpedo Room, Conn. Load tube one with the SDV. Make tube one ready in all respects and open the outer doors. Firing point procedures, tube one, Point Alpha."
'Point Alpha', as it had been dubbed, was the estimated spot in which the SDV would completely stop and allow the operative to exit safely, provided he had his gear on properly, on a relatively desert piece of ocean floor, an estimated thirty feet from the surface and fifty yards from the sea entrance to the south dock. However, it was all a guess, and they could only wait and see exactly where the thing ended up, not being able to trust the ocean current and the storm overhead.
"Make tube one ready in all respects and open outer doors, aye sir." the torpedo supervisor responded.
Fire Control didn't respond, but it wasn't necessary for them to report back. However, in their place came a faint echoing klaxon, which sounded only once. Shortly afterwards, the Torpedo Room's supervisor came back on. "Conn, Torpedo Room. Tube one is loaded and ready, outer door are open."
In the back, Campbell watched as the Captain went on about making the delivery, noting that he, despite his age, commanded the crew very affectively and ran an impressively tight ship. Now he would just hope that he didn't get killed within the first five minutes of the show. Heh, Campbell thought, this was probably as much action as Daniels has ever gotten in his life, so there had to be immense pressure for him.
The Captain spoke again, this time without the 1MC, knowing that his orders would be carried though his crew. "Match sonar bearings and shoot tube one."
***
Ranma now knew the sensation that a sardine felt when put inside its can, both cramped and beginning to loose his patients. The only thing to illuminate his space was a simple little red light, which was already beginning to annoy him like the weird person who sits next to you on the plane for six hours. He lied still inside the metal container, waiting for any sign that anything in particular was going to be underway soon.
His wishes were soon answered when he felt a lifting sensation, followed by a sense of being slid forward. They must be moving me into the tube, he realized. He braced himself for what he could only guess would be the imminent jolt he would soon feel. Another set of sounds appeared to him, one in the form of a door closing flowed shortly by the scraping of metal upon metal, the sound of the outer doors opening.
A moment later he felt an incredible, as he could only describe as a rush, as his vehicle was thrust forward at a tremendous pace. But that wasn't what was bothering him though; he was instead antagonized by the severe turbulence that came with the traveling experience. The SDV was shaking very violently, threatening to bang his head against the shell and blacking him out. He rocked to and fro, hoping that it would soon level out, allowing him to get the feeling of a stomach back. It did not, at least not right then. However, as his underwater sardine can continued on, it gradually began to even out, changing from a spasm of flesh threatening rumbles to a dull vibration, enough just to keep a person from going to sleep.
That was how Ranma felt at the moment, ready to depart the present for a more peaceful place, but he had other things to worry about, especially if the thing were to open up and drown him in his time of dozing. What to do, he thought, what to do... his thoughts began to drift again, this time not into dreams, but into his memories, of things that had come and gone, and of things that were as of yet to face him. Though he would never admit it willing, the mission was his second highest priority, second only to his search for the truth, the truth of this 'Tendo' person, if it even was one and not under a false name. He remembered the days from before, long before he exiled himself to the land of the artic. That wasn't true, he told himself, it wasn't because of them really that I chose this place. I chose it because I felt it was safe. Safe from persecution, from fear, from having to cause pain... From receiving pain, from being hurt ever again, from being betrayed by family.
Family, he thought, what a word. Pop was all I had, or at least what I ever got to have. Except for her, oh kami, I loved her. Two years, a long time, almost a lifetime. That day two years ago, when he had chosen, no, been forced to leave his home. No, that isn't true either. I could have stayed; I could have stood up against them, against you. Why? A worthless piece of history, he told himself, one that couldn't be that reliable. Damn that girl. Damn her. Why did it ha-
His thoughts were again interrupted by the beep of the codec on his wrist, which flashed its green light at him with frequency. Reaching over with his right hand, he pressed the gray button on the side. He watched as the blank screen was illuminated with a green field of static. Shortly after that, the face of the Colonel filled the small screen. "Ranma, this is Campbell, do you read me?" the figure asked.
"The visual is kind of shaky and the audio is kind of nulled, but I can hear you Colonel." Ranma responded.
"That is to be expected." came the reply. "You are traveling more than forty knots, so it takes a bit for the satellite to adjust to the distance and velocity deprivation." Campbell responded, as though it was of no major difference. "The doctor wants to talk to you, hold on." The screen changed to static for another second before the face of the doctor, Naomi Hunter, filled it in its place. "How is the mission so far Mr. Saotome?"
She was not using his name, and that was something that he was not accustomed to, except in a bank or something of that nature, a place where professionalism was indeed a necessity. Never the less, he did not return offended. "I feel like a soda that has been put through a dryer."
The Doctor chuckled for a second before regaining her composure. "According to our readouts, your heart rate increased for a few minutes, but you are now okay. If you are feeling a bit nauseous, I can put some of the nanomachines to work if you like."
"No thanks, I'm okay, just let me talk to the Colonel again."
She almost seemed to give him a look of having been insulted, but it vanished quickly. She said nothing and the screen switched to that of Campbell. Ranma did not give him any time to say anything before Ranma asked him something. "How far away am I from where I get out?"
Campbell turned his head away for a second before turning back and giving him an answer. "Fire Control says that they will have to wait a couple more minutes before they can shut down the screw on the SDV, so it could take anywhere between fifteen and twenty minutes to get it to slow down enough so you can exit it, so your going to have to just stick it out until then. If you need anything else, contact me." The audio died and the screen emptied, only the frequency number remaining for a few seconds more before disappearing as well.
Must be busy to hang up on me like that, Ranma thought. His confined space was still filled the luminescence of green, which was now beginning to bore him. Yet, it made him begin to wonder about the mission itself and for whatever reason had he been cut off when he was the centerpiece of the mission. He wasn't about to press the issue, but he doubted it was of major concern, as running a top secret operation in conjunction with an 'unruly captain' (Campbell had told him a little more about the Discovery itself an hour or so prior to his 'departure'), so Ranma could only imagine how 'interesting' the next eighteen hours was going to be onboard the ship.
Looking forward, he once again took sight of the digital camera attached to the front of the SDV and, feeling particularly bored, inched his way upward and took a hold of it, bringing his eyes into the peep holes. He saw nothing but darkness, meaning either that it was not on or there was nothing that he could see but black water. Without shifting his head, he moved his hand around the right side of the wall and searched for the button, which he found a few seconds later. Pressing it, the display shifted from black to green with a red outlining on screen display, which bore the word 'Night Vision' in the lower left hand corner. Cool, he could but help but think. He watched as white particles floated by him. or rather, flew by him as the SDV continued to speed forward towards its destination. Besides the particles, nothing else seemed interesting. Pressing the button again, the display changed to a purplish color, the OSD bearing the designation 'Infrared Vision'. Nothing of interest still. Sighing in defeat, he pressed the button again and backed away.
Wish there was a movie to go with this ride, he thought. Like the Colonel had said, he would have to wait it out until he got there.
***
"Conn, Sonar. Captain, the SDV is almost to its destination. Estimate time of arrival in three minutes. I am also getting intermittent contacts from the same bearing, looks like one of the patrol boats is coming back around, probably due to the heavy weather on the west side of the island. Recommend that the SDV is warned of this as soon as possible." the 1MC told Daniels.
Shit, he thought. If the operative were to surface right then, he could be caught, or, worse off, get sucked into the screw of the ship itself. He quickly acknowledged. "Sonar, Conn, aye." Turning to his left where the Executive Officer stood, he nodded to him, giving the message that he should let Colonel Campbell know of this.
Saluting, the XO did and about face and exited the control room. Walking toward the stern, he turned and went down a flight of stairs. He again turned to his right and followed the passageway to the mess room, where the operations team had been stationed for the duration of the mission. This was the largest and most convenient place for all of the required equipment could be set up. The movable furniture had been taken out of the room while the large tables had been compacted and put into compartments below them, freeing up the space quite easily. The kitchen had been evacuated as well, and a temporary one had been set up in the enlisted personnel's quarters, where everyone who was not an officer having to eat inside the more confining space. Though the Captain had already informed the crew that this was just temporary for the duration of the exercise, they were still somewhat less than thrilled.
As he entered the room, he quickly scanned it, searching for the Colonel. He saw him and the corner and rushed over to him. Campbell, who had been preoccupied with communications problems, turned in slight surprise at seeing the second in command right come up from right behind him. "What is it?" Campbell asked.
"Sir, Sonar found out that the p-t boats are coming around the south bend of the island. You need to tell your operative NOT to surface." he stated, putting plenty of emphasis on the subject.
Quickly, Campbell turned around and tapped the technician on the soldier, who went straight to work. Typing in a quick sequence of commands, the screen for the codec came on the monitor. Entering the frequency for operative Saotome, he pressed enter and waited. It was a few moments later that Ranma picked up. "I'm here, go ahead."
His voice sounded a bit agitated to Campbell, but he paid it no mind. "Sonar just let us know that one of the p-t boats is coming around the southern tip of the island and will be there around the time you get out of the vehicle, so watch out."
"Got that," Ranma acknowledged, "anything else?"
"Nothing so far, but keep an eye out, and be sure to make good use of that camera." Campbell finished.
The conversation having ended, the technician typed in a command and the signal was terminated.
***
Seventeen Minutes Later...
Ranma continued to look through the lenses of the digital camera, watching and waiting for anything new to arouse his attention. Using the night vision mode, he could now see the contours of the ocean floor and the approaching wall of rock, close to ninety feet away according to the range finder on the on screen display. Swiveling the camera upward, he began his search for the patrol boat. However, the device had a limited visibility range, and as he continued to move it upward, he heard a click and the camera stopped. Nothing. Sighing in defeat, he pulled his head back, shifting position to a more comfortable state. Ranma looked over his shoulder toward the green light, which had not changed to a different color since the beginning of his journey. I guess I will have to wait, he thought, as he could not get anymore informa-
He watched as the once green light start to flash an alarming red color, catching him off guard. The words of the crewman on the Discovery fought its way back into his head, reminding him that the hatch would open in thirty seconds whether he liked it or not. Reaching around in front of him, he pulled out his set of miniature scuba tanks and attached it to his back through a short but successful struggle. Looking at his oxygen mask, he stretched it over his face, fitting over his head like a balaclava. Next, he rolled over on his side and, being careful, pulled the air hose up toward his face, locked the tube to his chest plate, and attached the end of it to the right opening of his mask. He began breathing, which he noticed was quite easy with the oxygen being directly pumped to him. He shifted position again, this time now lying on his back, looking upward toward the hatch, waiting for the inevitable rampage of artic water to fill his small domain.
The wait was not a long one. Suddenly, the light stopped flashing and Ranma heard the audible pop of the hatch opening. However, the noted hiss had been replaced by something else, that of churning water storming it's way inside. He did not flinch as it struck his face before spreading all over his body. The one thing he did do however was release a breath of relief, originally fearing that the water would cause 'the change', which did not occur, just as the doctor had told him. The cover on the SDV continued to slide open, bringing one and even stronger surge of water, until it was fully open and the compartment had been completely flooded. The pressure now equalized, Ranma pushed off of his back and, using his flipper bound feet, kicked his way out of the metal coffin. The sensation that ripped through his very being was one that he had only encountered a select number of times over the past few years, one of being male and swimming at the exact same time without ending up red all over by the end of the session. He twisted his head back to his former vehicle, which was now no more than an unknown object to be seen on sonar and by the naked eye.
Good riddance, he thought to himself. Looking around for a piece of cover, he spotted an undersea boulder conveniently placed close to ten feet from the SDV. Swimming over to it, he turned his gaze to that of the ocean surface above. The waves of water whipped across his 'sky' as it were, crashing and smashing continuously in almost every direction. Campbell had been right on the call about the boat, Ranma thought, as he met the view of the hull and propeller of a ship above him. Feeling a sensation of a suction, he grabbed onto the boulder itself, trying to prevent being sucked into the engine of the vessel overhead. It soon passed, however, as the ship continued to move away from him, fighting the infuriated sea, threatening to overturn it with every wave that formed.
Diverting his gaze to the wall of the island, he began looking for the supposed inlet that would allow him to penetrate the base. It ended shortly after it had begun, the opening, which was actually a sort of canyon from which a vessel such as the p-t boats could enter. Pushing off of the sea floor, he swam toward the entrance to the dock, watching his way both back and forward. The walls around him stood strong and domineering on both his left and right sides of his body. No sign of any security cameras so far, meaning that, according to his briefing about his insertion several hours previous, they had not added any more equipment to help ensure that Shadow Moses Island was impenetrable, which was, in fact, what he was already undermining at this very point in time.
His trip continued on for several minutes before a grand spectacle appeared before his eyes, the southern docking bay itself. A cave, he saw. From water level, he could make out a dimly lit room with a set of huge freight containers stacked one on top of the other in the middle of the room. On both sides of the room where the cement met the cold, unremitting sea, a artificial cape spread outward, each side had another cargo container on each side, though both of them had large pipes coming out of each other and into the wall itself. The pipe also filtered down into the water, giving him the distinct impression that they were not just simple containers, more likely machines that regulated the tap water and sewage systems throughout the island. In any case, each side stuck out toward the exit to the south, but, in the middle, a sort of bay laid before him, one that would allow a ship to easily dock and stay put for an indefinite amount of time. To his right, he saw a set of stairs, no doubt used by the crews of the p-t boats to board or disembark when needed. Lifting his sight upward, he saw several ceiling supports, which would hold to roof intact and help prevent the unidealistic event of a cave in, and a movable crane, probably used for supplies, stationed in the middle of the area. Something else also stood in the back, most likely the elevator, which he would use to get to the surface.
Deciding to make a break for the stairs, he turned and swam to his right, trying to keep as quiet as possible. As he approached them, he noticed the floor suddenly going from a rocky bottom nearly fifteen feet down to a cement floor of seven or so feet, just over what a normal man would have used to walk on. Touching the stairs, he steadied himself and brought his body underneath him, giving him a more controllable sense of balance. Standing up with the water coming to waist high, Ranma took a few steps forward and ducked down, hearing a startling sound. It was a voice, he noted, a male voice. "...be here, I know it. I've got to go swat down some bothersome flies." He then heard the sound of klaxons and saw a red signaling light on the right side of the room in the back, followed shortly by the sound of machinery going about its work. The elevator, Ranma realized. Looking toward it, he saw the platform ascending with a single figure on it, a person in a brown coat, the gender being anyone's guess in this lighting and at this distance. He would have gone for his binoculars, but it was already too late, as all that was left in view was the person's legs, followed by nothing. Deciding to worry about that in the coming minutes, he turned around and sat down on the step below his feet.
Reaching for his right foot, he unhooked the flippers from the suit itself, doing the same thing a moment later. Next, reaching behind his head, he detached his scuba mask from the balaclava and dropping it onto the floor below. The last step was to remove the air tube from his chest plate, which he did with ease. His task done, he looked at the environment around him, trying to gauge the details, trying to learn from it what he could not from a simple conversation. Let's see, he thought, elevator in the back, at least one guard patrolling the room, what else? He stared at the floor to his right, the cold and wet cement doing nothing in reply. Hmm, the floor is wet from waves caused by the storm, so that means that most of the floor is wet as well, meaning that I won't have to worry about me dripping on it and causing a commotion. All I have to worry about is my gear.
Looking for a place to hide it, he looked to his right at the pipe that was heading into the water itself. As he followed it with his eyes, he saw that there were two barrels lying on the submerged floor. They had sunk. Picking up all of the scuba equipment, he slowly walked over to the wall, faced the water, and dropped all of it in the water, gladly watching as all of it sank like a stone. Now that that was out of the way, he could get out of the room without having to worry about them conducting a search for an intruder, that is, not while he was still there. Turning around, he stared at the container which stood between him and the rest of the room, which turned out to be a 'water filtration unit', which would explain the reason for the pipes, humming while it went about its work.
This was as good of a time as any to call Campbell. Reaching over to his codec, he scrolled to his frequency and made the call. Once again, the screen filled with static for a short time before his commanding officer's face filled it. Keeping his voice down to a whisper, the young operative spoke. "This is Ranma, I'm in."
Campbell's face was one of obvious relief. "Excellent work, I see the storm didn't slow you down one bit."
"There wasn't much to it. I have been in more dangerous waters anyway. Anything new to report?" Ranma asked.
"We just got word from Elmendorf, our diversionary tactic is less than fifteen minutes from Shadow Moses, so, if everything goes right, you should be able to slip inside without notice."
Ranma absorbed the information, though he had learned about it, like much of his mission, during the briefing. The diversion was to have a couple of F-16s do a fly by over the island and circle it until given the order to attack, if that were to ever come. It was mainly a means of intimidation rather than a full blown threat, as the only aircraft capable of taking out the base and the terrorists would be a flight of heavy bombers, as the F-16s did not have the load capacity to carry the 'bunker buster' weapons strong enough to pierce the ceiling of the underground bunker itself. They would have to rely on conventional bombs, but were given the strict order of not to hit the nuclear warehouse, lest their be reports of a brilliant flash of light to the north coming from Dutch Harbor. The tank hanger was also a no go for the fighters due to the possibility of the hostages being held within its domain. The communication towers were another story. The bunker already had a satellite linkup, however, it was mainly used to keep in touch with Washington, so, by destroying the towers, they could cripple their short-range communications ability and disable at least a single part of their radar network. The only other viable targets were the barracks and the heliport, and, as Ranma already knew, the heliport was the next area he would have to go through after leaving this dock, provided that he could get past the guards without getting caught.
"I think the only way out of the room is the elevator in the back, but I don't know how many soldiers are stationed here."
"Rely on your soliton radar, that will get you through the area. The storm is starting to die down, so I'll contact you when you are topside. Campbell out." The screen faded, leaving only the frequency number to be displayed.
All right, Ranma thought, here comes the hard part. Turning around to face the filtration machine behind him, he ducked down and stared at what was beyond it. Nothing was in sight. Lying down, Ranma began to crawl on the floor underneath the unit, slowly and cautiously. When he got through to the other side, he stood up and walked quietly to the wall, which was covered considerably in mildew and grime, paying testament to the dreadful conditions within the rest of the dock. Pressing his back against it, he brought his left arm up in front of his chest, reached over with his right hand and pressed the gray button on the small device. He watched as the screen, this time, changed from displaying the frequency to a sort of map. On it, it appeared to be that all the walls were displayed as green lines while he was shown as a white dot in the middle of the picture.
As he watched and waited, he saw something come onto the screen, some sort of blue shape appeared on it, shaped similarly to that of triangle or cone attached a red dot. That was when he heard it. Footsteps, he realized. The red dot was coming closer and closer, and the sounds were coming nearer and nearer. Another noise filled the air, that of breathing. The dot was very close now, by Ranma's guess, no less than five feet from his position. Ranma was cold and silent, not daring to make a move that would attract attention, rationing his breathing to mere whispers. He was not sure of whether or not he should be terrified or exhilarated, frightened by the possibility of death while excited by the trill of the experience.
But then, it stopped. He could still hear the dot's breath just a small ways away. Suddenly, the cone turned completely around into the opposite direction, and the dot began to move away from the white dot. The sound of footfalls upon the cement covered in water had begun again, but now, they were receding. Soon, the ret dot had totally disappeared from the screen, leaving the white dot to the black background and it's green lines.
Gaining the nerve and will, Ranma pushed himself sideways along the wall to his left and peaked around the corner. What he saw was what appeared to be a corridor of wall, also is a state of filth, and steel containers, which were covered slightly in rust, with and intersection of another corridor in the middle. At the end of the corridor, however, there stood what had been represented the red dot on his soliton radar. It was a soldier, a member of the enemy. He was dressed in a large white artic jumpsuit, complete with jacket and matching balaclava, all colored white to add to the effect of the camouflage. On the soldier's jacket was a was a combat vest, no doubt filled with ammunition Ranma presumed, along with three grenades, fragmentation form the looks of them. In his hands, the soldier carried an assault rifle Ranma had only seen once when Murphy had taken him to, of all things, a gun show on a rare night off back when they were still recruits at Fort Richardson. He believed it to be called a FAMAS and, from what he had gotten off of CNN, was an idealistic weapon being put into experimental use for an undetermined amount of time. The soldier was easily intimidating to anyone, but Ranma put that to the side. He just had to worry about getting around the bastard.
The soldier who had, for the duration of Ranma's watchful gaze, been facing the wall in the opposite direction from where the intruder was, turned to his left and walked out of sight. With him out of harm's way for a time, the shadow clad martial artist slipped around the corner and into the corridor. Walking slowly and watching where he stepped, he avoided any large puddles and slowly walked toward the intersection, keeping close to the containers on his right. At the end of the metallic wall, he pressed his back up against it once again and looked at the radar. Nothing but green lines, a blue cone in the opposite direction, and a white dot stood out.
Sighing in relief, Ranma stepped away and began to enter the new corridor. Then, he saw it. Water, from a puddle had splashed next to the wall on the other side of the room. Another guard. Ranma quickly ducked back around the corner and hid. If not for his quick reflexes, the white dot on his radar would have been inside the blue cone, and, believing that the cone represented the enemies' field of vision, a not so good thing would most certainly happen. "Damn it." Ranma cursed under his breath. Looks like this thing has a limited range of twenty feet or so.
Looking at the radar, Ranma watched the cone with unease, waiting for something to happen. Then, something did. The cone turned downward and disappeared from sight shortly thereafter. But another problem developed. The other guard was now moving back his way, and if he did not move fast, he would be caught in the sights of him instead. Ranma quickly moved into the new corridor again and watched the device's screen as the cone just missed the white dot. Knowing that he had to move quickly, Ranma walked toward the new intersection, where four different paths collided.
Okay, Ranma thought, if I go up there and head toward the elevator, I go through water, which will wake them up. But if I go left here... His decision made, Ranma turned in the direction of the shaft from which the elevator came and slowly crept toward it, never taking more than one eye off of the device strapped to his wrist. Coming out of the four-lane corridor, Ranma approached the shaft, stepping to the right to stay out of the light shining into the room from it.
Suddenly, there was a loud alarm noise, followed by the flashing of klaxons on the walls on each side of the elevator shaft. Ranma's heart leapt into his throat. Had he been discovered? He searched frantically around the open space, searching for some place to hide. There, he realized, behind the forklift. Running over there quickly, he hid in the shadows, acting on instinct alone.
No one had come running. In fact, for the short span of time he had spent in hiding since the alarm went off, he had heard nothing from the enemy, not even having seen the flash of the blue cone associated with the red dot on the device's display. Why had they not come running? Why was he not being frantically searched for? That was when he noticed that the alarm had ceased to sound. It was replaced instead by a metallic sound growing closer, and it was coming from the shaft. Ranma's senses quickly calmed when he realized what it was. That was the alarm to tell everyone that the elevator was coming down.
Staying hidden, Ranma sat waiting for it to finally arrive. It did with a rather loud thud as it hit the barrier of metal beneath it, but he still kept still and silent, knowing that it would not have come down without either being called, which he hoped was not the case, or, for the lesser of two evils, someone was coming down. It was the latter, as not a second later did another one of the soldiers, this one also clad in artic warfare camouflage, stepped into view and walked plainly forward for a few steps before stopping. The guard paused for a second before moving on, dropping out of sight down the corridor of shipping crates.
Quickly, he stood and quietly stalked over to the platform. Glancing around the room, where he saw nothing but the back of the guard who had just entered, he stepped onto the moving platform and searched for the controls. Finding them, he pressed the one with an arrow pointing upward and braced himself. The platform shook as he heard the gears start to wind up and turn, beginning his ascension to the place above. Once again, the klaxons and alarms inside of the dock roared to life, letting no man with eyes and ears know that the elevator was on its way up.
No one came to see for what reason the elevator had began moving again, not even a single glance back being made by the third guard. Ranma had made it through the first trial. He looked downward toward the receding dock where no man stood. He had done it. He was through.
End Chapter 3
****
Author's Notes:
YES!!!! Okay, I have finally finished this chapter after having all that *CENSORED* schoolwork to do, and now that I am out for the break, I can write and enjoy life (If I can find it, I think I left it under my bed *shiver*). Anyway, I had hoped to get this posted before Christmas, but, alas, I am afraid that may not happen. In all truth, though, I did ALOT of research into the layout of Shadow Moses, the weaponry featured in the game, submarines, tanks, helicopters, fighter planes, locations of actual military bases and cities, etc. etc. All I can say is 'bless thy internet'.
Well, back in ch. 2 I said that I would ask the other 2 people who are writing Metal Gear Solid/Ranma 1/2 crossover fanfics. One of them, who I have not been able to get in touch with for several months now, has disappeared off the net as far as I know, however, the other, whose name is PsyckoSama, has his own website, which is at:
http://www.fanfic.net/~psyckosama/
Check out his site for some GREAT R.5/SM crossovers, as well as some other great content.
Happy Holidays!
12/25/02
Special thanks to Amy Holt for editing and reviewing, as well as having a site to post it on.
Special thanks also goes to Jill-chan “The Editor Formerly Known As 'The Eepster'” for editing and reviewing.
Special thanks also also goes to the owner of "Ranchan & Co. Crossing Bridges" for having an alternate site to post this on.
Comments, questions, and criticism can be made out to Slackerchan@aol.com
Tactical Espionage Action
Metal Gear Ranma
By Chris Davis
Chapter 3: A Ghost's Shadow
"So, this is who you chose to save the planet."
-Armageddon
Onboard the USS Discovery
18:37 to Deadline
Beneath the vast, frigid sea off the coast of the state of Alaska, a silent predator stalked toward a point of contact that, to anyone else not privileged, would never know about within their lifetime without resorting to illegal means. This predator was the USS Discovery (SSBN-732), a cold and efficient member of the 'Silent Service' of the United States Navy. Though officially she had been originally designed to be an Ohio class ballistic missile submarine, she was actually what was becoming to be known as a 'Hybrid', as it was commonly referred to as by the top brass of the Navy. A 'Hybrid' was one of the newest ventures of the Pentagon, though not at all old in design. The ideal was that of combining the base designs of two or more classes of submarines to create a new menace to the enemy, whomever it may be. The Discovery, upon its completion, had become an adaptation of the Sea Wolf and Ohio classes, combining the strength and load out of the Ohio with that of the sleekness and reliability of the Sea Wolf, yielding one of the deadliest vehicles ever to dive below the surface.
Like any other submarine within the Navy, she was of monstrous proportions, measuring nearly five hundred sixty feet long and displacing close to sixteen thousand five hundred tons when not submerged. And, like any other submarine, almost every aspect of her was kept in secret, only the operators and the 'old men' of that branch of the armed forces being privy to the information. Officially, she was able to pull a maximum speed of twenty-five knots. Unofficially, she could reach nearly thirty-seven, threatening to rival that of the long contested Alfa class Russian/USSR submarines, which were believed to touch off at forty knots. Officially, she could dive to eight hundred feet. Unofficially, close to a rigorous depth of eleven hundred. The list continued on and on, passing the limit of what a normal person could imagine.
And it was onboard this weapon of war that a young man by the name of Ranma Saotome stood awaiting his impending 'shuttle to hell' as he was beginning to believe it was going to be like. Launched out of torpedo tube, he thought, he had heard the phrase sometime before in an old war movie, though he had never heard of it actually being carried out. The even thought of being jet propelled into a shockingly freezing ocean still shot a shiver down his spine, though he knew that that was not about to happen. As he had been briefed, he was going to be extradited inside a SDV, which would insure him of making it through the process alive and well.
The young man remembered skimming over the specifications of the swimmer delivery vehicle, which he found surprising to say the least. The SDV itself was, by all appearances, much like that of the Mk. 54 torpedo, one of the most innovative weapons ever to be used in ASW by the Navy. However, below the armor plating, a hollowed out space could be revealed, large enough for a single man to lie in. A coffin more like it, Ranma conceded, though it held many life preserving features, such as a pressure equalizer and a two hour supply of oxygen, which he would use until the trip came to an end at his inevitable destination.
He stood in the briefing room of the submersible, where he was joined with a technician and the Colonel. The tech, who turned out to be the same one that had assembled the electrical equipment right before his briefing just hours before, was now helping him with his Codifying Satellite Communication System, more commonly known as the CODEC, as well as his SOLITON radar system, which was currently being attached to his wrist, not unlike a large watch, though Ranma was not sure whether or not the thing even told time.
"Now remember Ranma," Campbell began, "you will get a full explanation of your equipment on sight, but for now, I think you will be able to figure out exactly what they are." The Colonel paused as the tech finished attaching the device, wanting to let the youth get a feel for it before continuing. "There are two different modes, the communications mode and the radar mode, which you can easily switch between by pressing the button on the side. When you are in communications mode, you can change the designated frequency by pressing either of the arrows up or down till you get to the right frequency, then press the green button at the top to contact the person. You won't have to worry about a microphone, as the data gathered by your voice is transferred from your nanomachines to the codec itself, which sends out the information to us, as such will be returned to you within your ear drum, so you won't have to worry about the problem of the enemy hearing you. Also, there is a miniature camera on the device itself so we can keep in video contact if audio were to go out. My frequency is one four zero point eight five. You can also get in contact with Dr. Hunter through this frequency if needs be."
Ranma pressed the gray button on the left of the watch and watched as it came alive with a green rectangular box filling up most of the screen and a five digit number shown below it, undoubtedly the frequency number. He pressed the gray button again and the screen emptied, leaving nothing but a blank display. Impressive, he couldn't help but think. "And what about the radar?" he asked.
"The radar is designed to function in stationary environments, so, since the submarine is moving, it won't be able to display anything useful. I can tell you that it will display a basic example of the terrain around you, showing barriers and enemy soldiers, along with an approximation of the enemy's visibility and hearing radius." Campbell answered.
Hmm, cool, Ranma thought. It would be useful in the blizzard, but he still wanted to know one thing. "Does it tell time though?" This was meant to be both a little humorous and, at the same time, quite serious, since he knew he had an eighteen hour time limit to reclaim what had be pillaged by the 'bad guys' and he felt that it would be better to know it rather than having to call just to find out.
The Colonel gave him a look of perplexity before realizing what he had meant, grinning as it hit him. "Yes, it will be displayed just below the radar."
"Okay, anything else I need to know?" Saotome asked.
His smile quickly disappeared. "You'll get a full brief of your equipment on site, but I should remind you that you will have to do weapons OSP, as we cannot risk having one of them discharging inside the torpedo, lest it explode. Also, your suit will, of course, provide you with protection from the elements as well as some minor protection from bullets. I must emphasize minor because it is not a piece of kevlar."
Ranma looked down at himself, drawing his gaze to the mentioned article of clothing. Just as he had seen it during his enlightening talk half a day previous, it was almost exactly like a scuba suit, yet it had some significant differences. The three piece suit, consisting of the 'pants', 'shirt', and 'vest', as well as having a set of gloves, were all specifically colored a metallic blue or dark gray color, at which, upon moving it under different lighting, shifted in color, melding into the metal background. Ranma had repeated the process several times before being fully convinced of its full potential of keeping him hidden inside the base. He had put on both the bottom and upper portions of the outfit and was now fitting the gloves on himself. It had felt, as Dr. Naomi had described, like a second set of skin, though it felt nothing like flesh when he touched it with his hand. It was very tight, making it a bit hard for him to move, but he took it in stride, knowing that it would in the end help him flex easier when out of it rather than obscure his abilities.
He gave off a sigh and nod of recognition, letting the older man know that he was ready. Campbell gave him the once over, a final inspection before allowing the man to enter the SDV, just a couple dozen feet down the passageway. "I think you are ready. Report to the torpedo room for a final briefing before launch."
"Yes sir." Ranma automatically responded, his time in the military having stuck with him. Bringing his right leg behind him, he did an about face and started toward the door.
He was stopped, however, when the voice of the Colonel spoke again. "Good luck son."
Ranma did not turn around, but he did respond. "Thank you, sir." With that, he walked out of the older man's sight.
***
In the bridge of the vessel, Captain Daniels stood in silence at the conn while his crew continued their work. He looked up at the clock above his head, which was counting down until the approximate time in which they would be in position to launch. Just an hour ago, he had come to periscope depth to transmit their precise location to Elmendorf, where the little diversion was about to take off from and rendezvous in approximately thirty minutes. It read four minutes and fifty-four seconds, plenty of time for him to go over his plan once again, just to make sure that there would be know errors.
Daniels was indeed new to commanding and being responsible for the lives of every single crewman aboard a submarine, and while he was still filled with apprehension about it, he would not let it show, though his executive officer probably could tell from right off the bat. Having graduated from an executive officer himself to the rank and pay grade of captain just eight months previous, he felt immense pride that he had gotten the position and felt that he would have to make this the best sub within the Navy.
However, over the course of the past twenty-four hours, his rule had been mortally challenged by the arrival of Colonel Campbell and his team. He still could not believe that, of all the submarines off the coast of Alaska, which was quite numerous contrary to popular belief, he had been stuck with the task. The crew had been informed that they were to undergo a war game involving special operations personnel and that the crew would have to adjust to their presence. Of course, the officers onboard and the operations team itself knew better.
The thing that was really starting to get on his nerves was the kind of people onboard. More specifically, the women. Within fifteen minutes of seeing them onboard, he knew that he was going to lose control of the men's morale, as there had already been a few 'accidental encounters' in the passage ways between some of the men and the women. In truth, he could not help but be attracted somewhat to them, the oriental one catching quite an interest with him, but he knew that his girlfriend back on shore would rather not like to hear that story, when he was drunk or otherwise.
No, he thought, I've got to focus on the mission. The sooner they are off ship, the better. Pushing the thought out of his mind, he refocused on the task at hand and walked over to the map table, which he used to it's name and then some. The sea charts were in just the same spot that he had left it in an hour previous, laying out the current course projection and the firing point he had selected for delivering the operative. Also marked on the map was the location and range of the sonar buoys that surrounded Shadow Moses Island. Shadow Moses was as close to a fortress as there could be for ten thousand miles in every direction, having broad, steep cliffs covering the entire perimeter and a layout perfect for preventing an invasion force of Marines or someone else. Also, though not meant to be impenetrable to Naval forces, the island did incorporate a small network of sonar sensors which had a range of nearly twenty five thousand yards, though convergence zones could extend the range of the sonar pings. For this possibility, the Captain was bringing his ship in at fifteen knots at near ultra quiet alert, wary of being detected. When he reached the approximated position of deployment, he would have the Discovery cut all engines and check the surrounding waters for any enemy vessels.
During his briefing with in the ward room of his officers close to five hours before, he had himself learned that the island had a set of twin patrol boats which were used by the soldiers and staff mainly for transits to and from Unalaska, the closest thing to a town within a hundred miles, and, rarely, for their intended purpose: patrolling. Each ship had its own little dock within or alongside the island itself, one of them being on the southern tip inside a cave and the other on the eastern side, where the cliffs were not so steep. The southern one had been chosen for a variety of reasons, but most primarily of which was that, even though it was the farthest from the nuclear storage building and the primary objective, the command center, it was the believed to be the least guarded and offered the best opportunity for a surgical insertion. The other, while easier to approach, was most likely more heavily guarded than the southern one due to the proximity to the barracks and weapons stockpile. The only other reason for the selection was of the patrolling times estimated for the boats themselves. On a normal day, each could circle the island in less than twenty minutes; the weather was guaranteed to hamper their patrol route, decreasing their complete encirclement to double that time, forty minutes. That left the operative nearly a whole half hour to get inside.
They were not his primary concern however. Even though the boats themselves could serve as a potential threat via depth charges, he mostly feared helicopter launched aerial torpedoes. According to naval intelligence, there had been significant activity on an island within the Aleutian chain less than forty five miles from Shadow Moses, mostly choppers. They had advanced a theory that those choppers had delivered the terrorists to the base and were on stand by in case something came up and additional support or extraction was needed. If the Discovery were to be detected and a torpedo was dropped on them, they would be in serious trouble. Daniels would have to keep the submarine at a depth no greater than two hundred feet in order to keep satellite communication with the operative active, which was a great departure from the previous sixty or so feet required a few years previous, and if they were to keep this position and the attack came, the Discovery would not even be able to get her engines to full speed before the torpedo hit. These were not deep waters, so there would be little room to maneuver.
The good thing the Captain knew was that his weapons had far better range than anything else in the region. Consisting of four torpedo tubes and twenty-four vertical missile launch tubes, she could easily start and end a small war in a very minute amount of time. Her primary weapon was the Mk. 48 ADCAP, which had a range in excess of thirty thousand yards and a heavy warhead, guaranteeing an almost certain kill from any distance. The vertical tubes, however, were a completely different story. Designed to launch SLBMs, these were designed to kill millions instead of just winning battles, a lasting effect of the Cold War and a standard for the missile 'Hybrids' in the New Cold War. They would only be used as a last resort should the circumstances necessitate them. He did not plan on nuking a multi billion dollar disarmament facility, but if the needs be...
Daniels looked up from the map to see the XO standing right by him. "We have arrived at the designated location Captain, awaiting your orders."
He must have been out longer than he had thought, the Captain thought. "Very well then." He turned back to the conn and approached it. Looking up from his position, he reached for the 1MC just above his head and brought the microphone to his lips. He flipped a switch and said, "Sonar, ESM, Conn. Report all contacts."
He did not have to wait long for the response from the sonar room. "Conn, Sonar. Nothing on my scope right now, I believe that the p-t boats are on the other side of the island fighting the waves."
Another voice spoke, this one being the ESM supervisor. "Conn, ESM. No contacts so far, there has been no traffic since enter these waters sir."
Daniels spoke again. "Roger, keep an eye out for anything suspicious, and be sure to let me know when the p-t boats start to make their southern turn."
Both of the operators acknowledged the order and the Captain hung up. He picked it back up again and spoke, "Torpedo Room, Conn. Get the operative briefed on and inside of the SDV as soon as possible."
"Torpedo Room, Conn. Aye, sir." came the reply.
***
Inside the torpedo room, Ranma watched as the supervisor hanged up from the microphone system and turned to him. "Okay sir," the man said to him, "let me explain the components of the SDV."
Ranma was led to what was no doubt the vehicle itself, which was nearly nine feet long and about three feet in diameter. Pressing a button on the outer surface of the object, a hiss and a pop came from it as a hatch slowly opened up. Inside, he saw what looked like a cushioned floorboard, probably the place he would have to lie down on for the duration of the trip. "You will have to lay down on your stomach and stay in the middle to avoid hitting the walls. You can expect a lot of what could be called turbulence for the first few minutes after launch, but it should even out soon after that. The air tanks and the pressurization will prevent you from having to use your scuba tanks while it is moving, which should in the end help you out when you get out." He bent down and pointed to the end of the space. "Over there is a digital video camera which is attached to the outside of the SDV. When it comes time to get out of the unit, first look into it to see if there are any problems outside that might hamper you. It comes equipped with a set of night vision and infrared lenses that you can easily and readily switch between by pressing the button to the right, which cycles through the different lenses themselves."
He pointed to a red light. "You see this? It will tell you the reliability of the pressure within. Red means it is not pressurized, which is bad, and green means you are pressurized, so you are good. It should stay green during the entire trip, but if at any time it goes red, put on your scuba mask and attach your oxygen as soon as possible." The man looked at Ranma's face to see if he understood, who just looked him in the eye, which held stern with seriousness. "The hatch should automatically pop open and you can escape. When the SDV stops, the light will start flashing red. When this happens, you have thirty seconds to put on the scuba attachment and begin breathing out of it. After the time is up, the hatch will open and fill with water. Be sure to only try to exit when the tube is full, otherwise, you'll be caught in the suction and may lose control. From there on out, you'll have to swim."
The supervisor finished and looked Ranma in the eye. What he swore he saw was both a sense of fear and of readiness, a good sign in his eyes. He offered his hand to him. "Good luck sir."
Stepping into the pod, Saotome took and shook the hand of the man who, most likely, would be the last friendly face he would see without the use of a electronic device for the next day or so. He relinquished his hand and set it on the edge of the hatch frame for balance as he brought his other foot inside it. The material was quite soft considering he had originally thought it was just a few sheets of shock absorbing rubber. Bending, he laid down on the stomach just as instructed and waited for the next step. It was but seconds later when the hatch was shut and pressurization began, shutting him off from the outside of the ship. A short time later, the red light inside the compartment turned green, signifying that he was good to go.
"Oh boy," he spoke, "sounds easy, just a half an hour bumpy ride inside a metal coffin underwater heading to a place where I am going to kill people. How hard could it be?" The sarcasm was definitely there.
He laid there in the green illuminated space for several minutes, waiting for something to happen. Nothing did. He was just about to bang on the hatch when he heard a distinct beeping sound, one that he caught him slightly off guard. The codec, he realized. Turning to his left hand, he reached over and pushed the green button. He watched as the screen changed from nothingness to a green display of the Colonel, a video transmission. "Relax Ranma, we are just doing a final test of the equipment just to make sure it works both at long and short range." the figure said. "Can you respond?"
"What exactly do you want me to say then?" Ranma asked.
Campbell chuckled. "I think you already did that for us." The figure's face dropped then. "Unfortunately, we just got word that the weather has hit a rough spot, so if we need to get in touch with one another, it will probably have to be brief and to the point, otherwise, we could have some technical problems on our end. Remember, my frequency is one four zero point eight five, understood?"
"Yes, sir."
"Good. I was just informed by the Captain that you will be launched in a few minutes, so sit tight. Campbell out." The screen emptied and was replaced with the frequency number, which also disappeared shortly after that. Silence took over once again.
***
Back on the bridge, Daniels watched as Colonel Campbell walked back into room and took up a position out of the way, not wanting to interfere in any way. The Captain turned away, looking forward the bow. He still had not heard from the sonar supervisor, but he hoped that-
His train of thought was interrupted however when the sound of the man he had been wanting to hear from came over the 1MC. "Conn, sonar. We are picking up the p-t boats now sir, looks like they will make it around the southern tip in the next five minutes."
This was it, Daniels thought, now was the time to take action. He took the microphone, brought it to his lips and gave the command. "Fire Control, Torpedo Room, Conn. Load tube one with the SDV. Make tube one ready in all respects and open the outer doors. Firing point procedures, tube one, Point Alpha."
'Point Alpha', as it had been dubbed, was the estimated spot in which the SDV would completely stop and allow the operative to exit safely, provided he had his gear on properly, on a relatively desert piece of ocean floor, an estimated thirty feet from the surface and fifty yards from the sea entrance to the south dock. However, it was all a guess, and they could only wait and see exactly where the thing ended up, not being able to trust the ocean current and the storm overhead.
"Make tube one ready in all respects and open outer doors, aye sir." the torpedo supervisor responded.
Fire Control didn't respond, but it wasn't necessary for them to report back. However, in their place came a faint echoing klaxon, which sounded only once. Shortly afterwards, the Torpedo Room's supervisor came back on. "Conn, Torpedo Room. Tube one is loaded and ready, outer door are open."
In the back, Campbell watched as the Captain went on about making the delivery, noting that he, despite his age, commanded the crew very affectively and ran an impressively tight ship. Now he would just hope that he didn't get killed within the first five minutes of the show. Heh, Campbell thought, this was probably as much action as Daniels has ever gotten in his life, so there had to be immense pressure for him.
The Captain spoke again, this time without the 1MC, knowing that his orders would be carried though his crew. "Match sonar bearings and shoot tube one."
***
Ranma now knew the sensation that a sardine felt when put inside its can, both cramped and beginning to loose his patients. The only thing to illuminate his space was a simple little red light, which was already beginning to annoy him like the weird person who sits next to you on the plane for six hours. He lied still inside the metal container, waiting for any sign that anything in particular was going to be underway soon.
His wishes were soon answered when he felt a lifting sensation, followed by a sense of being slid forward. They must be moving me into the tube, he realized. He braced himself for what he could only guess would be the imminent jolt he would soon feel. Another set of sounds appeared to him, one in the form of a door closing flowed shortly by the scraping of metal upon metal, the sound of the outer doors opening.
A moment later he felt an incredible, as he could only describe as a rush, as his vehicle was thrust forward at a tremendous pace. But that wasn't what was bothering him though; he was instead antagonized by the severe turbulence that came with the traveling experience. The SDV was shaking very violently, threatening to bang his head against the shell and blacking him out. He rocked to and fro, hoping that it would soon level out, allowing him to get the feeling of a stomach back. It did not, at least not right then. However, as his underwater sardine can continued on, it gradually began to even out, changing from a spasm of flesh threatening rumbles to a dull vibration, enough just to keep a person from going to sleep.
That was how Ranma felt at the moment, ready to depart the present for a more peaceful place, but he had other things to worry about, especially if the thing were to open up and drown him in his time of dozing. What to do, he thought, what to do... his thoughts began to drift again, this time not into dreams, but into his memories, of things that had come and gone, and of things that were as of yet to face him. Though he would never admit it willing, the mission was his second highest priority, second only to his search for the truth, the truth of this 'Tendo' person, if it even was one and not under a false name. He remembered the days from before, long before he exiled himself to the land of the artic. That wasn't true, he told himself, it wasn't because of them really that I chose this place. I chose it because I felt it was safe. Safe from persecution, from fear, from having to cause pain... From receiving pain, from being hurt ever again, from being betrayed by family.
Family, he thought, what a word. Pop was all I had, or at least what I ever got to have. Except for her, oh kami, I loved her. Two years, a long time, almost a lifetime. That day two years ago, when he had chosen, no, been forced to leave his home. No, that isn't true either. I could have stayed; I could have stood up against them, against you. Why? A worthless piece of history, he told himself, one that couldn't be that reliable. Damn that girl. Damn her. Why did it ha-
His thoughts were again interrupted by the beep of the codec on his wrist, which flashed its green light at him with frequency. Reaching over with his right hand, he pressed the gray button on the side. He watched as the blank screen was illuminated with a green field of static. Shortly after that, the face of the Colonel filled the small screen. "Ranma, this is Campbell, do you read me?" the figure asked.
"The visual is kind of shaky and the audio is kind of nulled, but I can hear you Colonel." Ranma responded.
"That is to be expected." came the reply. "You are traveling more than forty knots, so it takes a bit for the satellite to adjust to the distance and velocity deprivation." Campbell responded, as though it was of no major difference. "The doctor wants to talk to you, hold on." The screen changed to static for another second before the face of the doctor, Naomi Hunter, filled it in its place. "How is the mission so far Mr. Saotome?"
She was not using his name, and that was something that he was not accustomed to, except in a bank or something of that nature, a place where professionalism was indeed a necessity. Never the less, he did not return offended. "I feel like a soda that has been put through a dryer."
The Doctor chuckled for a second before regaining her composure. "According to our readouts, your heart rate increased for a few minutes, but you are now okay. If you are feeling a bit nauseous, I can put some of the nanomachines to work if you like."
"No thanks, I'm okay, just let me talk to the Colonel again."
She almost seemed to give him a look of having been insulted, but it vanished quickly. She said nothing and the screen switched to that of Campbell. Ranma did not give him any time to say anything before Ranma asked him something. "How far away am I from where I get out?"
Campbell turned his head away for a second before turning back and giving him an answer. "Fire Control says that they will have to wait a couple more minutes before they can shut down the screw on the SDV, so it could take anywhere between fifteen and twenty minutes to get it to slow down enough so you can exit it, so your going to have to just stick it out until then. If you need anything else, contact me." The audio died and the screen emptied, only the frequency number remaining for a few seconds more before disappearing as well.
Must be busy to hang up on me like that, Ranma thought. His confined space was still filled the luminescence of green, which was now beginning to bore him. Yet, it made him begin to wonder about the mission itself and for whatever reason had he been cut off when he was the centerpiece of the mission. He wasn't about to press the issue, but he doubted it was of major concern, as running a top secret operation in conjunction with an 'unruly captain' (Campbell had told him a little more about the Discovery itself an hour or so prior to his 'departure'), so Ranma could only imagine how 'interesting' the next eighteen hours was going to be onboard the ship.
Looking forward, he once again took sight of the digital camera attached to the front of the SDV and, feeling particularly bored, inched his way upward and took a hold of it, bringing his eyes into the peep holes. He saw nothing but darkness, meaning either that it was not on or there was nothing that he could see but black water. Without shifting his head, he moved his hand around the right side of the wall and searched for the button, which he found a few seconds later. Pressing it, the display shifted from black to green with a red outlining on screen display, which bore the word 'Night Vision' in the lower left hand corner. Cool, he could but help but think. He watched as white particles floated by him. or rather, flew by him as the SDV continued to speed forward towards its destination. Besides the particles, nothing else seemed interesting. Pressing the button again, the display changed to a purplish color, the OSD bearing the designation 'Infrared Vision'. Nothing of interest still. Sighing in defeat, he pressed the button again and backed away.
Wish there was a movie to go with this ride, he thought. Like the Colonel had said, he would have to wait it out until he got there.
***
"Conn, Sonar. Captain, the SDV is almost to its destination. Estimate time of arrival in three minutes. I am also getting intermittent contacts from the same bearing, looks like one of the patrol boats is coming back around, probably due to the heavy weather on the west side of the island. Recommend that the SDV is warned of this as soon as possible." the 1MC told Daniels.
Shit, he thought. If the operative were to surface right then, he could be caught, or, worse off, get sucked into the screw of the ship itself. He quickly acknowledged. "Sonar, Conn, aye." Turning to his left where the Executive Officer stood, he nodded to him, giving the message that he should let Colonel Campbell know of this.
Saluting, the XO did and about face and exited the control room. Walking toward the stern, he turned and went down a flight of stairs. He again turned to his right and followed the passageway to the mess room, where the operations team had been stationed for the duration of the mission. This was the largest and most convenient place for all of the required equipment could be set up. The movable furniture had been taken out of the room while the large tables had been compacted and put into compartments below them, freeing up the space quite easily. The kitchen had been evacuated as well, and a temporary one had been set up in the enlisted personnel's quarters, where everyone who was not an officer having to eat inside the more confining space. Though the Captain had already informed the crew that this was just temporary for the duration of the exercise, they were still somewhat less than thrilled.
As he entered the room, he quickly scanned it, searching for the Colonel. He saw him and the corner and rushed over to him. Campbell, who had been preoccupied with communications problems, turned in slight surprise at seeing the second in command right come up from right behind him. "What is it?" Campbell asked.
"Sir, Sonar found out that the p-t boats are coming around the south bend of the island. You need to tell your operative NOT to surface." he stated, putting plenty of emphasis on the subject.
Quickly, Campbell turned around and tapped the technician on the soldier, who went straight to work. Typing in a quick sequence of commands, the screen for the codec came on the monitor. Entering the frequency for operative Saotome, he pressed enter and waited. It was a few moments later that Ranma picked up. "I'm here, go ahead."
His voice sounded a bit agitated to Campbell, but he paid it no mind. "Sonar just let us know that one of the p-t boats is coming around the southern tip of the island and will be there around the time you get out of the vehicle, so watch out."
"Got that," Ranma acknowledged, "anything else?"
"Nothing so far, but keep an eye out, and be sure to make good use of that camera." Campbell finished.
The conversation having ended, the technician typed in a command and the signal was terminated.
***
Seventeen Minutes Later...
Ranma continued to look through the lenses of the digital camera, watching and waiting for anything new to arouse his attention. Using the night vision mode, he could now see the contours of the ocean floor and the approaching wall of rock, close to ninety feet away according to the range finder on the on screen display. Swiveling the camera upward, he began his search for the patrol boat. However, the device had a limited visibility range, and as he continued to move it upward, he heard a click and the camera stopped. Nothing. Sighing in defeat, he pulled his head back, shifting position to a more comfortable state. Ranma looked over his shoulder toward the green light, which had not changed to a different color since the beginning of his journey. I guess I will have to wait, he thought, as he could not get anymore informa-
He watched as the once green light start to flash an alarming red color, catching him off guard. The words of the crewman on the Discovery fought its way back into his head, reminding him that the hatch would open in thirty seconds whether he liked it or not. Reaching around in front of him, he pulled out his set of miniature scuba tanks and attached it to his back through a short but successful struggle. Looking at his oxygen mask, he stretched it over his face, fitting over his head like a balaclava. Next, he rolled over on his side and, being careful, pulled the air hose up toward his face, locked the tube to his chest plate, and attached the end of it to the right opening of his mask. He began breathing, which he noticed was quite easy with the oxygen being directly pumped to him. He shifted position again, this time now lying on his back, looking upward toward the hatch, waiting for the inevitable rampage of artic water to fill his small domain.
The wait was not a long one. Suddenly, the light stopped flashing and Ranma heard the audible pop of the hatch opening. However, the noted hiss had been replaced by something else, that of churning water storming it's way inside. He did not flinch as it struck his face before spreading all over his body. The one thing he did do however was release a breath of relief, originally fearing that the water would cause 'the change', which did not occur, just as the doctor had told him. The cover on the SDV continued to slide open, bringing one and even stronger surge of water, until it was fully open and the compartment had been completely flooded. The pressure now equalized, Ranma pushed off of his back and, using his flipper bound feet, kicked his way out of the metal coffin. The sensation that ripped through his very being was one that he had only encountered a select number of times over the past few years, one of being male and swimming at the exact same time without ending up red all over by the end of the session. He twisted his head back to his former vehicle, which was now no more than an unknown object to be seen on sonar and by the naked eye.
Good riddance, he thought to himself. Looking around for a piece of cover, he spotted an undersea boulder conveniently placed close to ten feet from the SDV. Swimming over to it, he turned his gaze to that of the ocean surface above. The waves of water whipped across his 'sky' as it were, crashing and smashing continuously in almost every direction. Campbell had been right on the call about the boat, Ranma thought, as he met the view of the hull and propeller of a ship above him. Feeling a sensation of a suction, he grabbed onto the boulder itself, trying to prevent being sucked into the engine of the vessel overhead. It soon passed, however, as the ship continued to move away from him, fighting the infuriated sea, threatening to overturn it with every wave that formed.
Diverting his gaze to the wall of the island, he began looking for the supposed inlet that would allow him to penetrate the base. It ended shortly after it had begun, the opening, which was actually a sort of canyon from which a vessel such as the p-t boats could enter. Pushing off of the sea floor, he swam toward the entrance to the dock, watching his way both back and forward. The walls around him stood strong and domineering on both his left and right sides of his body. No sign of any security cameras so far, meaning that, according to his briefing about his insertion several hours previous, they had not added any more equipment to help ensure that Shadow Moses Island was impenetrable, which was, in fact, what he was already undermining at this very point in time.
His trip continued on for several minutes before a grand spectacle appeared before his eyes, the southern docking bay itself. A cave, he saw. From water level, he could make out a dimly lit room with a set of huge freight containers stacked one on top of the other in the middle of the room. On both sides of the room where the cement met the cold, unremitting sea, a artificial cape spread outward, each side had another cargo container on each side, though both of them had large pipes coming out of each other and into the wall itself. The pipe also filtered down into the water, giving him the distinct impression that they were not just simple containers, more likely machines that regulated the tap water and sewage systems throughout the island. In any case, each side stuck out toward the exit to the south, but, in the middle, a sort of bay laid before him, one that would allow a ship to easily dock and stay put for an indefinite amount of time. To his right, he saw a set of stairs, no doubt used by the crews of the p-t boats to board or disembark when needed. Lifting his sight upward, he saw several ceiling supports, which would hold to roof intact and help prevent the unidealistic event of a cave in, and a movable crane, probably used for supplies, stationed in the middle of the area. Something else also stood in the back, most likely the elevator, which he would use to get to the surface.
Deciding to make a break for the stairs, he turned and swam to his right, trying to keep as quiet as possible. As he approached them, he noticed the floor suddenly going from a rocky bottom nearly fifteen feet down to a cement floor of seven or so feet, just over what a normal man would have used to walk on. Touching the stairs, he steadied himself and brought his body underneath him, giving him a more controllable sense of balance. Standing up with the water coming to waist high, Ranma took a few steps forward and ducked down, hearing a startling sound. It was a voice, he noted, a male voice. "...be here, I know it. I've got to go swat down some bothersome flies." He then heard the sound of klaxons and saw a red signaling light on the right side of the room in the back, followed shortly by the sound of machinery going about its work. The elevator, Ranma realized. Looking toward it, he saw the platform ascending with a single figure on it, a person in a brown coat, the gender being anyone's guess in this lighting and at this distance. He would have gone for his binoculars, but it was already too late, as all that was left in view was the person's legs, followed by nothing. Deciding to worry about that in the coming minutes, he turned around and sat down on the step below his feet.
Reaching for his right foot, he unhooked the flippers from the suit itself, doing the same thing a moment later. Next, reaching behind his head, he detached his scuba mask from the balaclava and dropping it onto the floor below. The last step was to remove the air tube from his chest plate, which he did with ease. His task done, he looked at the environment around him, trying to gauge the details, trying to learn from it what he could not from a simple conversation. Let's see, he thought, elevator in the back, at least one guard patrolling the room, what else? He stared at the floor to his right, the cold and wet cement doing nothing in reply. Hmm, the floor is wet from waves caused by the storm, so that means that most of the floor is wet as well, meaning that I won't have to worry about me dripping on it and causing a commotion. All I have to worry about is my gear.
Looking for a place to hide it, he looked to his right at the pipe that was heading into the water itself. As he followed it with his eyes, he saw that there were two barrels lying on the submerged floor. They had sunk. Picking up all of the scuba equipment, he slowly walked over to the wall, faced the water, and dropped all of it in the water, gladly watching as all of it sank like a stone. Now that that was out of the way, he could get out of the room without having to worry about them conducting a search for an intruder, that is, not while he was still there. Turning around, he stared at the container which stood between him and the rest of the room, which turned out to be a 'water filtration unit', which would explain the reason for the pipes, humming while it went about its work.
This was as good of a time as any to call Campbell. Reaching over to his codec, he scrolled to his frequency and made the call. Once again, the screen filled with static for a short time before his commanding officer's face filled it. Keeping his voice down to a whisper, the young operative spoke. "This is Ranma, I'm in."
Campbell's face was one of obvious relief. "Excellent work, I see the storm didn't slow you down one bit."
"There wasn't much to it. I have been in more dangerous waters anyway. Anything new to report?" Ranma asked.
"We just got word from Elmendorf, our diversionary tactic is less than fifteen minutes from Shadow Moses, so, if everything goes right, you should be able to slip inside without notice."
Ranma absorbed the information, though he had learned about it, like much of his mission, during the briefing. The diversion was to have a couple of F-16s do a fly by over the island and circle it until given the order to attack, if that were to ever come. It was mainly a means of intimidation rather than a full blown threat, as the only aircraft capable of taking out the base and the terrorists would be a flight of heavy bombers, as the F-16s did not have the load capacity to carry the 'bunker buster' weapons strong enough to pierce the ceiling of the underground bunker itself. They would have to rely on conventional bombs, but were given the strict order of not to hit the nuclear warehouse, lest their be reports of a brilliant flash of light to the north coming from Dutch Harbor. The tank hanger was also a no go for the fighters due to the possibility of the hostages being held within its domain. The communication towers were another story. The bunker already had a satellite linkup, however, it was mainly used to keep in touch with Washington, so, by destroying the towers, they could cripple their short-range communications ability and disable at least a single part of their radar network. The only other viable targets were the barracks and the heliport, and, as Ranma already knew, the heliport was the next area he would have to go through after leaving this dock, provided that he could get past the guards without getting caught.
"I think the only way out of the room is the elevator in the back, but I don't know how many soldiers are stationed here."
"Rely on your soliton radar, that will get you through the area. The storm is starting to die down, so I'll contact you when you are topside. Campbell out." The screen faded, leaving only the frequency number to be displayed.
All right, Ranma thought, here comes the hard part. Turning around to face the filtration machine behind him, he ducked down and stared at what was beyond it. Nothing was in sight. Lying down, Ranma began to crawl on the floor underneath the unit, slowly and cautiously. When he got through to the other side, he stood up and walked quietly to the wall, which was covered considerably in mildew and grime, paying testament to the dreadful conditions within the rest of the dock. Pressing his back against it, he brought his left arm up in front of his chest, reached over with his right hand and pressed the gray button on the small device. He watched as the screen, this time, changed from displaying the frequency to a sort of map. On it, it appeared to be that all the walls were displayed as green lines while he was shown as a white dot in the middle of the picture.
As he watched and waited, he saw something come onto the screen, some sort of blue shape appeared on it, shaped similarly to that of triangle or cone attached a red dot. That was when he heard it. Footsteps, he realized. The red dot was coming closer and closer, and the sounds were coming nearer and nearer. Another noise filled the air, that of breathing. The dot was very close now, by Ranma's guess, no less than five feet from his position. Ranma was cold and silent, not daring to make a move that would attract attention, rationing his breathing to mere whispers. He was not sure of whether or not he should be terrified or exhilarated, frightened by the possibility of death while excited by the trill of the experience.
But then, it stopped. He could still hear the dot's breath just a small ways away. Suddenly, the cone turned completely around into the opposite direction, and the dot began to move away from the white dot. The sound of footfalls upon the cement covered in water had begun again, but now, they were receding. Soon, the ret dot had totally disappeared from the screen, leaving the white dot to the black background and it's green lines.
Gaining the nerve and will, Ranma pushed himself sideways along the wall to his left and peaked around the corner. What he saw was what appeared to be a corridor of wall, also is a state of filth, and steel containers, which were covered slightly in rust, with and intersection of another corridor in the middle. At the end of the corridor, however, there stood what had been represented the red dot on his soliton radar. It was a soldier, a member of the enemy. He was dressed in a large white artic jumpsuit, complete with jacket and matching balaclava, all colored white to add to the effect of the camouflage. On the soldier's jacket was a was a combat vest, no doubt filled with ammunition Ranma presumed, along with three grenades, fragmentation form the looks of them. In his hands, the soldier carried an assault rifle Ranma had only seen once when Murphy had taken him to, of all things, a gun show on a rare night off back when they were still recruits at Fort Richardson. He believed it to be called a FAMAS and, from what he had gotten off of CNN, was an idealistic weapon being put into experimental use for an undetermined amount of time. The soldier was easily intimidating to anyone, but Ranma put that to the side. He just had to worry about getting around the bastard.
The soldier who had, for the duration of Ranma's watchful gaze, been facing the wall in the opposite direction from where the intruder was, turned to his left and walked out of sight. With him out of harm's way for a time, the shadow clad martial artist slipped around the corner and into the corridor. Walking slowly and watching where he stepped, he avoided any large puddles and slowly walked toward the intersection, keeping close to the containers on his right. At the end of the metallic wall, he pressed his back up against it once again and looked at the radar. Nothing but green lines, a blue cone in the opposite direction, and a white dot stood out.
Sighing in relief, Ranma stepped away and began to enter the new corridor. Then, he saw it. Water, from a puddle had splashed next to the wall on the other side of the room. Another guard. Ranma quickly ducked back around the corner and hid. If not for his quick reflexes, the white dot on his radar would have been inside the blue cone, and, believing that the cone represented the enemies' field of vision, a not so good thing would most certainly happen. "Damn it." Ranma cursed under his breath. Looks like this thing has a limited range of twenty feet or so.
Looking at the radar, Ranma watched the cone with unease, waiting for something to happen. Then, something did. The cone turned downward and disappeared from sight shortly thereafter. But another problem developed. The other guard was now moving back his way, and if he did not move fast, he would be caught in the sights of him instead. Ranma quickly moved into the new corridor again and watched the device's screen as the cone just missed the white dot. Knowing that he had to move quickly, Ranma walked toward the new intersection, where four different paths collided.
Okay, Ranma thought, if I go up there and head toward the elevator, I go through water, which will wake them up. But if I go left here... His decision made, Ranma turned in the direction of the shaft from which the elevator came and slowly crept toward it, never taking more than one eye off of the device strapped to his wrist. Coming out of the four-lane corridor, Ranma approached the shaft, stepping to the right to stay out of the light shining into the room from it.
Suddenly, there was a loud alarm noise, followed by the flashing of klaxons on the walls on each side of the elevator shaft. Ranma's heart leapt into his throat. Had he been discovered? He searched frantically around the open space, searching for some place to hide. There, he realized, behind the forklift. Running over there quickly, he hid in the shadows, acting on instinct alone.
No one had come running. In fact, for the short span of time he had spent in hiding since the alarm went off, he had heard nothing from the enemy, not even having seen the flash of the blue cone associated with the red dot on the device's display. Why had they not come running? Why was he not being frantically searched for? That was when he noticed that the alarm had ceased to sound. It was replaced instead by a metallic sound growing closer, and it was coming from the shaft. Ranma's senses quickly calmed when he realized what it was. That was the alarm to tell everyone that the elevator was coming down.
Staying hidden, Ranma sat waiting for it to finally arrive. It did with a rather loud thud as it hit the barrier of metal beneath it, but he still kept still and silent, knowing that it would not have come down without either being called, which he hoped was not the case, or, for the lesser of two evils, someone was coming down. It was the latter, as not a second later did another one of the soldiers, this one also clad in artic warfare camouflage, stepped into view and walked plainly forward for a few steps before stopping. The guard paused for a second before moving on, dropping out of sight down the corridor of shipping crates.
Quickly, he stood and quietly stalked over to the platform. Glancing around the room, where he saw nothing but the back of the guard who had just entered, he stepped onto the moving platform and searched for the controls. Finding them, he pressed the one with an arrow pointing upward and braced himself. The platform shook as he heard the gears start to wind up and turn, beginning his ascension to the place above. Once again, the klaxons and alarms inside of the dock roared to life, letting no man with eyes and ears know that the elevator was on its way up.
No one came to see for what reason the elevator had began moving again, not even a single glance back being made by the third guard. Ranma had made it through the first trial. He looked downward toward the receding dock where no man stood. He had done it. He was through.
End Chapter 3
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Author's Notes:
YES!!!! Okay, I have finally finished this chapter after having all that *CENSORED* schoolwork to do, and now that I am out for the break, I can write and enjoy life (If I can find it, I think I left it under my bed *shiver*). Anyway, I had hoped to get this posted before Christmas, but, alas, I am afraid that may not happen. In all truth, though, I did ALOT of research into the layout of Shadow Moses, the weaponry featured in the game, submarines, tanks, helicopters, fighter planes, locations of actual military bases and cities, etc. etc. All I can say is 'bless thy internet'.
Well, back in ch. 2 I said that I would ask the other 2 people who are writing Metal Gear Solid/Ranma 1/2 crossover fanfics. One of them, who I have not been able to get in touch with for several months now, has disappeared off the net as far as I know, however, the other, whose name is PsyckoSama, has his own website, which is at:
http://www.fanfic.net/~psyckosama/
Check out his site for some GREAT R.5/SM crossovers, as well as some other great content.
Happy Holidays!
12/25/02