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The only sound which could be heard in the building was the distant wailing of the sirens on the floors above. There was no one to heed the call – the soldiers were all either unconscious or dead. Soon it wouldn’t matter any way; the self-destruction protocol was already activated, and the building would be demolished, its ruins no more than a few scorched stones.
Time was running out, but David was in no hurry. He knew he had won; he was moving with agility of an agitated predator, aware that its prey was mortally wounded. The trail of blood was barely visible, though he didn’t need it. There was only one way down, into the basement.
Somewhere below he heard the noise of a closing door. Venom was there. He had to be. There was nowhere else to go; he was heavily wounded and exhausted. David headed down the stairs in perfect silence, listening for other sounds which would tell him where his target was.
The corridors of the basement were dark and rather low, but wide. Somewhere, a leaking pipe filled the halls with echoes of dripping water. Keeping low, David moved forward, depending on his hearing more than on his sight. Eventually, he heard a familiar sound of shifting fabric and quiet, uneven footsteps. Venom was close, struggling to get away fast enough.
Gentle waves were crashing against the metal foundations of the Mother Base in a stable rhythm. He was sitting on the edge of the first Medical Platform, watching the birds slowly circle above his head, blindingly white against the clear, blue sky. The view calmed him down; he wasn’t thinking about anything in particular, instead letting his thoughts roam free. Music was coming from the other side of the platform. He knew the song and immediately recalled the lyrics, though he could not remember the title. She liked the same music as him, frequently borrowing his cassettes and playing them in her shelter. Music united them, allowed them to communicate without speaking. He smiled as another familiar track began to play. The day was beautiful; a warm breeze brought the strong smell of salt. He closed his eyes, trying to remember the title of the song.
David glanced around the corner, expecting an attack any second now. His body was perfectly tense, ready to either fight or seek cover.
Venom was nowhere to be seen, although a dull thump could be heard somewhere ahead. David slowly moved forward with his eyes fixed on a rusted, blue door at the end of the hall. Upon reaching it, he pressed his ear against it. He could hear a wheezy, uneven breath on the other side; blood slowly pouring into a pierced lung.
Dave stepped aside and pushed the door open, waiting for Venom to start shooting in his direction. Nothing happened. He listened for a moment, then finally looked inside. There was no more fear in him, yet a new feeling replaced it – one that made this throat clench, although he could not name it.
They were in the mountains again. Evening fell and the floodlights around the post cracked as they lit up. He was watching the encampment from a hill, searching for any valuables to snatch once all the soldiers are tranquilized. He could hear her gentle hum in his ear; she was scanning the road through her gunsight. It’s been a slow day, spent mostly on hunting animals for the Animal Conservation Platform. He struggled with shooting the birds in flight, while for her it was no challenge. There were important things to do as well, but they didn’t think about them – it was a beautiful day, the kind that encouraged nothing but leisure.
The soldiers were getting ready to sleep. It seemed they were taking their responsibilities very lightly, which made everything easier. He waited for the last soldier to fall asleep, leaving the post with only one guard.
He put down his binoculars, aimed and shot is tranquilizer gun. The guard collapsed instantly, struck straight in the head. The rest remained asleep. He waited for a little more, then headed to the camp. Some ammunition and a bit of fuel, not much more. He also took some black carrots, mostly to snack on them. He envied her for not having to eat.
Later they sat together, waiting for the helicopter. The Afghan nights were surprisingly cold. Reflexively, he offered her his scarf, then remembered that she didn’t seem to be bothered by extreme temperatures; she accepted the scarf anyway and wrapped it around her neck, burrowing her face in it. Then she began to hum again. The helicopter glimmered on the horizon. He closed his eyes, listening to her gentle voice; there was always hope that she would go further with the melody, continue the song, but she would always repeat the first few sounds, never going any further. Once more, she left him disappointed. He tried to come up with a continuation but couldn’t think of anything – he’d never been talented in that direction.
Dave lowered his gun. Venom was kneeling on the floor of the small room, supporting himself with his arms. He was on old man; his hair was grey and long, no longer tied back. He was breathing with trouble and when he coughed, a few drops of blood fell onto the white tiles. He didn’t seem to be aware of Dave’s presence, or even if he was, he chose not to react. His body was slightly shaking, and a strange noise escaped his mouth – something between a whine and a hum.
Dave watched the man in silence. He had faced him before, knew what he was capable of. Yet at that moment, he saw no legendary soldier, no killing machine – just an old, weak man whose mind had been declining for many years now. No more than a phantom, an imitation created out of need and not affection. Big Boss was not here – he was never there when Venom needed him. It was Venom who had to be there for him, always, no matter what. And now, when everything came crashing down, once more Venom was alone.
Dave slowly lifted his arm and aimed. The red, flashing light on the ceiling was blinding him. He stared at the wide back of the wounded man, waiting for any reaction. Venom coughed again and distress could be seen in the way he leaned over the growing pool of blood on the floor.
There was a gun close to him. It seemed that he had tried to lean on a cabinet and made it collapse. A few things were scattered on the floor – some notes, a small cassette player and a half-smoked cigar. Venom’s hand reached out. Dave aimed; there was a loud ringing in his ears.
But Venom didn’t grab the gun. His shaky hand reached for the cassette player; he nearly lost balance while trying to pick it up, but finally managed to get a hold on it, staining it with his own blood. He struggled with the headphones for a while, but once he put them on and the buttons of the player clicked, it seemed as if he was given morphine – his body ceased to shake and his breathe grew evener. He straightened up, and though David couldn’t see his face, he knew Venom’s eyes were closed.
For the last time, David lifted his arm, aiming. The motion was slow; he wanted to give the man some time, even if he didn’t deserve it. He breathed out and his finger rested on the trigger. The flashing light on the ceiling blinded him again, confusing his eyes until all he could see were stains of lights and darkness. The outline in front of him seemed to slightly shift, as if viewed through hot air. It was all over. Years of pain, hatred and dreams of revenge. And what was in front of him was just a dancing shadow. The pressure on the trigger grew stronger while the phantom kept on dancing. One last line to cross, one last step to take and-
He was leaning against the guardrail. The strong wind carried sea water, splashing it against his bare chest. His hair was flowing free; it had grown long but he liked it like that. It was hot and the sun was high in the sky. The distant sounds of construction work were mixing with the hum of waves.
She was sitting on top of the nearby platform. Just like him, she loved sun and warmth. He didn’t even have to look towards her; he knew she was there. She always was. No matter what, she would always be there for him, a silent presence which he needed more than anything else. She was the only one who could make him feel happy, even if he wasn’t able to express it correctly. But she understood it, never pushing him further than he was able to go. Always by his side, with her simple melody in his ear and her sharp eye watching his back. She would never go away, not again. Not anymore.
It was a safe moment in time, one that filled him with peace. He put on his headphones and pressed the play button, and there was no more time – only peace. His safe memory; though a distant one, it was sharper than any experience he went through during many years that followed. The music was playing, she was resting on top of a tower, and it was 1984 once more.