Fan Fiction ❯ Metal Gear Solid: Sovereignty ❯ Advantage ( Chapter 10 )
[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]
By: Linkin Snake 
A group of sentries converge on Lieutenant Miller's position. Now Scott Miller must fight his way through the horde. Will he survive?
Anime/Manga: Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Action / Adventure | Type: Continuation | Uploaded On: 11.02.2005 | Updated On: 11.02.2005 | Pages: 3 | Words: 2.0K | Visits: 152 | Status: Completed
A group of sentries converge on Lieutenant Miller's position. Now Scott Miller must fight his way through the horde. Will he survive?
Anime/Manga: Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Action / Adventure | Type: Continuation | Uploaded On: 11.02.2005 | Updated On: 11.02.2005 | Pages: 3 | Words: 2.0K | Visits: 152 | Status: Completed
Chapter 10: Advantage
First Lieutenant Scott Miller was trapped between a rock and a hard place. He stood in the snow
field, trying to figure out a way, any way, to get past the looming barriers. The agent couldn't
help but stare at the large number four painted in black paint on the large metal doors. It was as if
the four was mocking him, an insignificant number was hindering his mission.
So what now?
Miller was slowly becoming fed up with the situation. In a bout of releasing his anger, Miller
cocked a fist and slammed it against the metal doors, creating a barely noticeable dent. The
thought entered his mind to simply punch his way though the wall, but decided, if anything, it
would cause more damage to the exoskeleton then to the steel.
Suddenly the two sirens, situated on either side of the doors, started blaring and the doors began
to split apart.
Did I hit it that hard? The operative thought to himself.
But when he saw what was behind the doors, he knew. Five Russian sentries, dressed in Arctic
BDUs, stood with their AK-74s raised at the ninja, ready to fire. Agent Miller was outnumbered
six to one, but he had something they didn't, and that gave him the advantage.
The middle sentry spoke in a thick, Russian accent, "American dog, surrender or die!"
Miller answered by unsheathing his katana. He flashed the blade in front of him, ready for the
anything they threw at him.
"This is your last chance," the middle sentry offered Miller the easy way, "Put down the blade
and go peacefully."
The commando stood, motionless, sword out in front of him, just waiting. At this point, there
was no way to avoid it.
The middle sentry motioned to the two of his comrades. The Russians at either end of the group
approached the cyborg, their rifles raised. The closest of the two reached out to the ninja with his
free hand. That's when it started.
Miller spun majestically back and forth between the two sentries, continuously slashing the air
with his sword. The other four sentries stood in shock and horror as their comrades fell to the
blade of the American. As the katana swayed from one sentry to the other, it was followed by a
fountain of blood spurting from the sentry's wounds. The slashing finally stopped and the two
blood-ridden bodies fell to the snow, their limbs torn, and BDUs soaked with gore.
The three other Russians gawked at the scene in awe, disgust, and horror. The sight of their
maimed comrades brought a knot in each of their stomachs. When they finally came to their
senses, they looked up to find Lieutenant Miller standing, nonchalantly, between the two bodies,
bloodied sword at his side.
"Who's next?" Miller joked, not to delight of the Russians.
The guards looked at each other not knowing what to do. One of the guards finally shouted out,
"Fire!"
The sentry that shouted out raised his rifle and began firing his assault rifle, soon followed by the
other two. The amount of lead coming Miller's way was too much for anyone handle,
exoskeleton or not. He was able to deflect a large majority of the slugs, but the sword's blade and
the exoskeleton's armor wouldn't last long against the relentless hot lead. The agent decided to
wait it out, for some reason the tangos didn't think of or didn't care, but eventually they would
reload. And that time couldn't have come sooner for the commando.
The lieutenant bent at the knees and readied himself to take flight. The ninja launched into the
air, and while executing a near-perfect corkscrew somersault, flew over the heads of the sentries
and inside the building. In Miller's mid-flight the Russians were still cramming new cartridges
into their rifles, leaving them vulnerable to attack, but the cyborg wouldn't strike just yet.
The three sentries finished with their reloading and walked into the building. The sirens once
again started blaring and the doors were closing. They stood in a large, windowless area, used
mainly for storage purposes. Crates were scattered all across the room, and a pair of double doors
at the other end of the space. But the first thing the tangos noticed was what was missing.
Lieutenant Miller.
One of the sentries motioned to the others. They split up and searched their own part of the room,
their fingers hugging the rifle triggers. They continued the search without any sign of the
intruder. When a noise in a far corner, hidden by a crate, caught their attention.
Gregg Kimovitch's teeth couldn't stop chattering, he was young and he was the closest to the
blocked corner. He didn't want to die, he didn't want to be anywhere near this facility. He'd just
watch his closest friend, Pavel, get sliced to hell, enough to rattle anyone's beliefs. The only
reason he was there was because of Pavel, and now he was dead and Gregg was left alone to be
killed by some American assassin. Pavel talked him into joining this crusade with Colonel
Dzhugashvili, and now what? Russia would never return to it's former glory, in Gregg's opinion,
but Pavel being Pavel, he wouldn't hear it. Kimovitch thought to himself over and over again,
Why the hell did I let him talk me into this?
Aleksandr Shagenovna was a hardened veteran who'd been waiting for this day for decades. The
day America would fall and Russia rise to power. Yes, two of his comrades were just marred, but
those deaths were necessary for the cause. Ever since he was a child his head had been filled with
propaganda (to him it was truth) about America, Russia, and the world. When he heard about
Colonel Dzhugashvili's crusade he had to get involved no matter what. Even if it meant leaving
his family. Whatever it took for the cause. He would fight to the end for his country and fight to
the end, he would.
Dmitri Kasparov was in his mid-30s and formerly apart of Gurlukovich's Private Army, but
never made the trip to the States. He was called nearly a week ago by one of his extremist's
friends. He had to think about it at first, but in the end decided to take part in the campaign, he
had many doubts but pushed them away to a corner of his psyche. And now all those doubts
resurfaced, but at the same time he felt almost indifferent, likely an effect of the shock of seeing
his comrades brutally murdered in front of his eyes. Dmitri was trained to handle events like that,
but it didn't seem to help, maybe he should have paid more attention that day in military school.
The three sentries looked at each other and then nodded. Aleksandr removed a fragmentation
grenade from his belt, and threw it into the corner. The sentries waited for the explosion which
came after a few seconds, sending shrapnel and pieces of the crate flying across the room. They
waited and nothing emerged from the spot. Aleksandr, being the most assertive of the three,
motioned to Gregg to investigate, who shook his head. Kimovitch refused to go, he was afraid to
even move.
Aleksandr became fed up with the younger officer and decided to investigate himself. Aleksandr
stalked his way to the corner, his rifle's barrel always kept straight.. Dmitri had his Kalashnikov
focused on the corner, and couldn't help but notice Gregg was shaking like a leaf. It was his
inexperience that could kill them all.
Suddenly Dmitri saw a bright light through his peripheral vision fall from the ceiling. Once he
saw what it was he shouted out, "GET DOWN!"
The two other sentries turned to see what the yelling was about. Gregg turned his head and the
last thing he saw was the point of the blade. The sword entered Kimovitch's forehead and
became lodged inside the Russian's skull. The force of the sword knocked down Gregg's lifeless
body. Dmitri instinctively looked up at the ceiling rafters to see the amethyst color of the
exoskeleton just flash by his field of vision.
Aleksandr, not sure what was going on, yelled to Dmitri in his native language, "What
happened?"'
Kasparov replied, "The ceiling, he's in the ceiling!"
Dmitri fired his AK-74 at the ceiling trying to catch the fast-moving ninja. Aleksandr soon
followed suit. The two remaining sentries continued shooting up the ceiling trying to catch the
cyborg. They yelled to each other, "where is he?!", but to no avail. He was too fast for both of
them.
Dmitri had to reload and did, giving the ninja a chance to go on the offensive. Agent Miller
dropped down from the overhead rafters right behind Dmitri. Unfortunately for Kasparov,
Aleksandr couldn't fire or he would hit his comrade.
"Watch out!" Aleksandr yelled.
Dmitri could see the shadow looming over him. He twisted around, holding the butte of the rifle
up in an effort to strike the ninja. Miller caught the gun before it struck his helmet and pulled it
from the Russian grasp. Throwing caution to the wind, Aleksandr, decided to fire at the
American, even if it meant giving up his comrade's life.
A hail of bullets rained on Miller and Dmitri. Seeing this, the lieutenant sidestepped his way
behind Dmitri, so the sentry took the brunt of the attack. The Russian was filled with holes and
the barrage didn't stop until Aleksandr's clip was empty. Dmitri stumbled toward Miller and
finally fell face first to the floor, his back filled with lead and soaked in blood.
Agent Miller looked up to see Aleksandr, frantically, reloading his clip. In a blink of an eye,
Miller, appeared in front of the lone Russian.
"Die, American dog!" Aleksandr shouted as he hugged the trigger on the Kalashnikov.
Miller knocked away the barrel of the gun, and wrapped his right hand around the Russian's
neck. The agent squeezed the life out of the tango. Although it was covered by a balaclava, the
ninja knew the blood was being drained from the sentry's face. After a few more moments,
Aleksandr's body went limp and Miller released the grip around his neck. The corpse landed with
a loud thud on the storage floor.
This was the first time Scott Miller took in what he had just done. He was breathing heavily,
beads of sweat rained down his forehead, his heart was beating out of his chest. The operative
had to take a knee, trying to catch his breath. He never knew he was capable of doing what he
just did. Could he control it, all the power? This exoskeleton gave him power, and power is
dangerous in the wrong hands.
First Lieutenant Scott Miller was trapped between a rock and a hard place. He stood in the snow
field, trying to figure out a way, any way, to get past the looming barriers. The agent couldn't
help but stare at the large number four painted in black paint on the large metal doors. It was as if
the four was mocking him, an insignificant number was hindering his mission.
So what now?
Miller was slowly becoming fed up with the situation. In a bout of releasing his anger, Miller
cocked a fist and slammed it against the metal doors, creating a barely noticeable dent. The
thought entered his mind to simply punch his way though the wall, but decided, if anything, it
would cause more damage to the exoskeleton then to the steel.
Suddenly the two sirens, situated on either side of the doors, started blaring and the doors began
to split apart.
Did I hit it that hard? The operative thought to himself.
But when he saw what was behind the doors, he knew. Five Russian sentries, dressed in Arctic
BDUs, stood with their AK-74s raised at the ninja, ready to fire. Agent Miller was outnumbered
six to one, but he had something they didn't, and that gave him the advantage.
The middle sentry spoke in a thick, Russian accent, "American dog, surrender or die!"
Miller answered by unsheathing his katana. He flashed the blade in front of him, ready for the
anything they threw at him.
"This is your last chance," the middle sentry offered Miller the easy way, "Put down the blade
and go peacefully."
The commando stood, motionless, sword out in front of him, just waiting. At this point, there
was no way to avoid it.
The middle sentry motioned to the two of his comrades. The Russians at either end of the group
approached the cyborg, their rifles raised. The closest of the two reached out to the ninja with his
free hand. That's when it started.
Miller spun majestically back and forth between the two sentries, continuously slashing the air
with his sword. The other four sentries stood in shock and horror as their comrades fell to the
blade of the American. As the katana swayed from one sentry to the other, it was followed by a
fountain of blood spurting from the sentry's wounds. The slashing finally stopped and the two
blood-ridden bodies fell to the snow, their limbs torn, and BDUs soaked with gore.
The three other Russians gawked at the scene in awe, disgust, and horror. The sight of their
maimed comrades brought a knot in each of their stomachs. When they finally came to their
senses, they looked up to find Lieutenant Miller standing, nonchalantly, between the two bodies,
bloodied sword at his side.
"Who's next?" Miller joked, not to delight of the Russians.
The guards looked at each other not knowing what to do. One of the guards finally shouted out,
"Fire!"
The sentry that shouted out raised his rifle and began firing his assault rifle, soon followed by the
other two. The amount of lead coming Miller's way was too much for anyone handle,
exoskeleton or not. He was able to deflect a large majority of the slugs, but the sword's blade and
the exoskeleton's armor wouldn't last long against the relentless hot lead. The agent decided to
wait it out, for some reason the tangos didn't think of or didn't care, but eventually they would
reload. And that time couldn't have come sooner for the commando.
The lieutenant bent at the knees and readied himself to take flight. The ninja launched into the
air, and while executing a near-perfect corkscrew somersault, flew over the heads of the sentries
and inside the building. In Miller's mid-flight the Russians were still cramming new cartridges
into their rifles, leaving them vulnerable to attack, but the cyborg wouldn't strike just yet.
The three sentries finished with their reloading and walked into the building. The sirens once
again started blaring and the doors were closing. They stood in a large, windowless area, used
mainly for storage purposes. Crates were scattered all across the room, and a pair of double doors
at the other end of the space. But the first thing the tangos noticed was what was missing.
Lieutenant Miller.
One of the sentries motioned to the others. They split up and searched their own part of the room,
their fingers hugging the rifle triggers. They continued the search without any sign of the
intruder. When a noise in a far corner, hidden by a crate, caught their attention.
Gregg Kimovitch's teeth couldn't stop chattering, he was young and he was the closest to the
blocked corner. He didn't want to die, he didn't want to be anywhere near this facility. He'd just
watch his closest friend, Pavel, get sliced to hell, enough to rattle anyone's beliefs. The only
reason he was there was because of Pavel, and now he was dead and Gregg was left alone to be
killed by some American assassin. Pavel talked him into joining this crusade with Colonel
Dzhugashvili, and now what? Russia would never return to it's former glory, in Gregg's opinion,
but Pavel being Pavel, he wouldn't hear it. Kimovitch thought to himself over and over again,
Why the hell did I let him talk me into this?
Aleksandr Shagenovna was a hardened veteran who'd been waiting for this day for decades. The
day America would fall and Russia rise to power. Yes, two of his comrades were just marred, but
those deaths were necessary for the cause. Ever since he was a child his head had been filled with
propaganda (to him it was truth) about America, Russia, and the world. When he heard about
Colonel Dzhugashvili's crusade he had to get involved no matter what. Even if it meant leaving
his family. Whatever it took for the cause. He would fight to the end for his country and fight to
the end, he would.
Dmitri Kasparov was in his mid-30s and formerly apart of Gurlukovich's Private Army, but
never made the trip to the States. He was called nearly a week ago by one of his extremist's
friends. He had to think about it at first, but in the end decided to take part in the campaign, he
had many doubts but pushed them away to a corner of his psyche. And now all those doubts
resurfaced, but at the same time he felt almost indifferent, likely an effect of the shock of seeing
his comrades brutally murdered in front of his eyes. Dmitri was trained to handle events like that,
but it didn't seem to help, maybe he should have paid more attention that day in military school.
The three sentries looked at each other and then nodded. Aleksandr removed a fragmentation
grenade from his belt, and threw it into the corner. The sentries waited for the explosion which
came after a few seconds, sending shrapnel and pieces of the crate flying across the room. They
waited and nothing emerged from the spot. Aleksandr, being the most assertive of the three,
motioned to Gregg to investigate, who shook his head. Kimovitch refused to go, he was afraid to
even move.
Aleksandr became fed up with the younger officer and decided to investigate himself. Aleksandr
stalked his way to the corner, his rifle's barrel always kept straight.. Dmitri had his Kalashnikov
focused on the corner, and couldn't help but notice Gregg was shaking like a leaf. It was his
inexperience that could kill them all.
Suddenly Dmitri saw a bright light through his peripheral vision fall from the ceiling. Once he
saw what it was he shouted out, "GET DOWN!"
The two other sentries turned to see what the yelling was about. Gregg turned his head and the
last thing he saw was the point of the blade. The sword entered Kimovitch's forehead and
became lodged inside the Russian's skull. The force of the sword knocked down Gregg's lifeless
body. Dmitri instinctively looked up at the ceiling rafters to see the amethyst color of the
exoskeleton just flash by his field of vision.
Aleksandr, not sure what was going on, yelled to Dmitri in his native language, "What
happened?"'
Kasparov replied, "The ceiling, he's in the ceiling!"
Dmitri fired his AK-74 at the ceiling trying to catch the fast-moving ninja. Aleksandr soon
followed suit. The two remaining sentries continued shooting up the ceiling trying to catch the
cyborg. They yelled to each other, "where is he?!", but to no avail. He was too fast for both of
them.
Dmitri had to reload and did, giving the ninja a chance to go on the offensive. Agent Miller
dropped down from the overhead rafters right behind Dmitri. Unfortunately for Kasparov,
Aleksandr couldn't fire or he would hit his comrade.
"Watch out!" Aleksandr yelled.
Dmitri could see the shadow looming over him. He twisted around, holding the butte of the rifle
up in an effort to strike the ninja. Miller caught the gun before it struck his helmet and pulled it
from the Russian grasp. Throwing caution to the wind, Aleksandr, decided to fire at the
American, even if it meant giving up his comrade's life.
A hail of bullets rained on Miller and Dmitri. Seeing this, the lieutenant sidestepped his way
behind Dmitri, so the sentry took the brunt of the attack. The Russian was filled with holes and
the barrage didn't stop until Aleksandr's clip was empty. Dmitri stumbled toward Miller and
finally fell face first to the floor, his back filled with lead and soaked in blood.
Agent Miller looked up to see Aleksandr, frantically, reloading his clip. In a blink of an eye,
Miller, appeared in front of the lone Russian.
"Die, American dog!" Aleksandr shouted as he hugged the trigger on the Kalashnikov.
Miller knocked away the barrel of the gun, and wrapped his right hand around the Russian's
neck. The agent squeezed the life out of the tango. Although it was covered by a balaclava, the
ninja knew the blood was being drained from the sentry's face. After a few more moments,
Aleksandr's body went limp and Miller released the grip around his neck. The corpse landed with
a loud thud on the storage floor.
This was the first time Scott Miller took in what he had just done. He was breathing heavily,
beads of sweat rained down his forehead, his heart was beating out of his chest. The operative
had to take a knee, trying to catch his breath. He never knew he was capable of doing what he
just did. Could he control it, all the power? This exoskeleton gave him power, and power is
dangerous in the wrong hands.