Chapter Text
On a forgotten base in US territory, off the Alaskan coast within the Fox Archipelago....
31 DECEMBER 2004
A manned submersible SDV shot out of an Ohio-class, nuclear-powered submarine. Owing to equal water pressure both within and without, the delivery vehicle's hatch opened freely without the aid of CADPADS. A lithe figure laid inside, and for a time, it stayed motionless, frozen, inanimate.
Dead.
A burst of bubbles escaped. The SCBA gear was active. The body moved on its own. It moved through the twilight colored waters, following the bathymetric curves up a winding tunnel. A cave. A way out.
Or rather, a way in.
A black and gray SEALsuit emerged from the water. The suit was mostly decked in charcoal gray, with a black combat vest that ran from beneath the navel to above noticeably accented breasts; it was a female intruder. Peeking above the water line, the masked woman surfaced onto the concrete landing.
140.85
> This is Meryl Campbell. Dad, can you hear me?
< Loud and clear. Glad to hear you made it safely. What's the situation?
> I'm not as chilled to the bone as I expected, but I could still use a hot shower right now.
< Sorry, but your enemies won't give you a warm blanket and a glass of hot cocoa. You'll need to focus on the task at hand.
> Right, I was just trying to lighten up the mood a little bit. Looks like the elevator in the back is the only way up.
< Just as I expected. You'll have to take the elevator to the surface. But make sure nobody sees you. If you need to, contact me by Codec. The frequency is 140.85. When you want to use the Codec, push the area of your inner ear behind your jaw. When we need to contact you, the Codec will beep. When you hear that noise, press into your ear. The Codec's receiver directly stimulates the small bones of your ear. No one but you will be able to hear it.
> Got it. Okay. I'm ready to go, Dad.
< Hold on - just a minute!
> What?!
< Meryl, we can't keep referring to each other with such familiarity. Didn't you finish that month-long course on OpSec and PerSec?
> Don't remind me.
< I'm sorry, honey, but I'm going to have to. From here on in, I'm simply "Campbell" to you.
> What's wrong with "Colonel"?
< I'm retired, now, remember?
> It sure doesn't feel like it with how little you stay at home.
< Meryl! You know I'm just look....
Listen, let's not get into this right now. We both have a job to do. Herein, you are now "Meryl Silverburgh." I don't think I have to tell you where that name is from.
> ..........
< In any case, contact me by Codec when you need me.
> Alright, 'Campbell,' I'll keep in touch.
With that, Meryl Silverburgh began her mission on a crawl. A water tank in the southeast corner of the docks hid her from view, but crawling on her stomach blocked her Soliton radar.
Achoo!!
And that was that. The guard went back north up the long corridor towards what Snake could see was a forklift. Abandoning the ration, Snake elected to follow the terrorist soldier right on his tail, which is often the safest place for an intruder to be during a set patrol route.
That is until he decides to look back. Past a corner, the guard stopped in his set track and about faced to the left. Snake put his defenses up and was ready to engage in close quarters battle (CQB), but felt silly as the guard simply continued on his way west and unknowingly avoided confrontation.
Luckily, the Alaskan midday darkness was getting the better of everyone in this place, and Snake's stealth went by without a hitch. He took this chance to lay low behind the forklift, almost falling asleep waiting for the elevator to arrive. He heard the alarms ringing for the next arrival of a guard, and so he stayed hidden behind the conveniently parked forklift. After a couple guards met and then dispersed, he took the ration nearby and ascended to surface level.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Unceremoniously dropping his scuba gear on the rising elevator platform, Snake patiently awaited the stop at ground zero level. During this time, Snake finally rifled through his inventory to see what little he was able to carry with him. As a procure on site specialist (POS), Snake usually had a paltry loadout and would collect more useful items as he went on, which was really the most consistent fun he could have on these missions.
He had the ration he picked up, a telescoping pair of binoculars, and the carton of smokes he smuggled out in his stomach, the last of which he had a clairvoyant feeling that he would spend the rest of the mission enjoying.
As soon as he began feeling frost, he quickly took in his situation and surroundings.
Ration in a natural hole-in-the-wall to the left. Head-high fence up in front that led to a heliport. Cargo crates strewn all about the base exterior. Higher elevation snow plain to his right. Sheer cliff to his backside. Snake surveys a face of weak rock ready to collapse at any time to his northeast in the distance, but for now he will leave it be.
After the quick analysis, Snake hugged the crate closest to the cargo lift, and peered over the side to find a gang of white camo guards escorting a blond man in a brown trenchcoat.
The very same whose voice he listened to on his way up the cargo dock but couldn't make the words out as they were garbled by the water Snake was under by the time the conversation ended.
A Hind D?
Colonel, what's a Russian gunship doing here?