call_me_snake: (War Hero)
Title: Where's the Canary?
Fandom: John Carpenter (Escape from NY/LA)
Characters: Snake Plissken
Prompt: 075: Pleased
Word Count: 556
Rating: PG
Author's Notes: Written for [livejournal.com profile] spider_on_acid
Summary: Snake does what he does best.



Snake walked up to the door and paused trying not to smile. This was serious or so they said it was. Straightening his uniform Plissken stepped in and took a seat across from the desk before it was offered. The two high ranking officers stared as someone might if he stripped down and stretched out for a nap in their office.

“Do you know why you’re here?” The one, older and graying hair asked.

“Yes sir.” Snake replied casually without the constrained snap of a military response.

“How do you explain your actions on the battlefield?” It was the other now; younger and far more upset over this if he had to guess by the tone.

“I did what was necessary.” Snake had. There were many ways to do what they asked. However only one allowed all of them to get out uninjured. Was it risky, sure, but to Snake war was all about risk.

“So you felt it was necessary to get captured, use your squadron as bait, impersonate an officer, impersonate a spy and destroy the very building we wanted you to infiltrate?” The younger officer really got on his nerves for no good reason he could determine.

“Yes.” Snake shrugged and crossed his leg getting as comfortable as he could in the wooden chair.

“You destroyed the objective.” The voice was escalating from the bastard who didn’t even care to introduce himself.

“Did you want the building or what was in it?” Snake snapped back feeling his rebellious side stoke up.

“That is not the point.”

Plissken ignored him and turned his attention to the other, more reasonable man. “The safety of my crew is as important if not more important than acquiring an objective.”

Snake hadn’t lost anyone in two years. Some squadrons came and all died in that time. He had a measure of pride in keeping everyone alive. It also brought a sense of trust no other squadron seemed to have.

“I commend you on the safety of those under your command.” The older man who Snake knew was part of the military committee though he couldn’t remember his name. They had met before briefly. He had been there when Plissken got his purple heart for Siberia.

The younger man tried to interrupt but a hand from the older man silenced him. “You do understand we have to reprimand you for going against a direct command.”

“Yes sir.” Snake smiled finally. He was going to get away with this.

“However. I have petitioned that you and your men and women receive medals for exceptional service. Not only did you disorient the enemy and retrieve the true item we were search for, you have also taken code sheets, maps and other information that will aid in the missions that left this morning.” He paused. “In the future please try to stick to your orders.”

“Of course sir.” Snake grinned even more.

“You’re dismissed lieutenant.”

Snake stood and saluted. “Thank you sir.”

They saluted in return. Plissken sauntered out and toward where Taylor and them would be waiting. Plissken felt like he’d gotten away with murder.

“What the hell did you do?” Sophia asked when he walked up.

“Hope you don’t miss that canary baby.” Plissken chuckled at the expectant looks. “We’re off the hook.”

“How?” Taylor asked.

“I’m good. Real good.”
call_me_snake: (Hero)
Snake lowered the binoculars staring at the small black dots rolling across the field of white. Briefly he allowed his usual thought to drift in. How the hell did the Russians know where the road was under all of that snow? More immediate was the confirmation of his mission.

"They got one." Snake commented while turning back from his prone position to look at his team.

"Great." Bradley rolled his eyes expressing what they all were thinking. The Russians with a nuke wasn't a good sign even with the treaty in place. The fact it was there on that truck while the treaty was still in place was even more worrisome. Snake took a moment and observed the trucks again.

"Any ideas? Besides stealing the uranium out of that bad boy?" Snake was always lighthearted as possible until things got bad.

"Are they masked?" Taylor had slid up prone next to him.

Snake squinted into the binoculars trying to make out the faces. They seemed pale which meant no. "Don't look like it."

"We got that..."

"Back up gas drop." Snake finished Taylor's sentence patting him on the shoulder. "Good idea. Geisha, call our back up."

Snake sat back feeling better but he still kept looking at the trucks receding to smaller and smaller dots in the white. What if they went out once and failed? What if the Russians got away with that nuke? The what ifs ate at him until he felt sick with determination. Failure was not an option, not today, not ever.

"28:15 until drop." Sophia announced.

"Alright, mask up." Snake was already pulling his gas gear out. "We're going to have to stop that truck from wrecking when they're knocked off."

Plissken pulled his white and black camouflaged gas gear on. His mind was locked on. They were going in now. Right down this basin and up around the tree line. They'd have five minutes to spare before the gas load came in to take the Russians out. Plenty of time to make it work. Just as much to fuck it up too. The latter was not an option. Not today.


Words: 358
call_me_snake: (Haunted)
OOC: Backdated as needed.


Snake kept his promise and the next day, after breakfast with his family and some quality time he headed to Will's new place. He arrived when it was nearing two in the afternoon. He'd brought two bottles of bourbon knowing he might well need them. This wasn't going to be easy. Nothing ever was when it dealt with the injury to his mental state from the war, from torture or his imprisonment. He knocked on the door and waited for Will to answer.
call_me_snake: (What?)
OOC: This is Post-Escape from LA Snake.

Now you're asking for trouble. )

Crossposted to [livejournal.com profile] muse_playground
call_me_snake: (Nothing to Lose)
Character Name: Snake Plissken
Origin: Escape from NY/LA
Topic: Doctor
Word Count: 1,689
Rating: R
Author's note: Contains violence and insanity. For [livejournal.com profile] heedmitch who claimed Mental Ward!Snake. If you have not claimed a Snake and want to go here to claim one.

There are many ways to break a man. )

Crossposted to [livejournal.com profile] deviant_muses
call_me_snake: (War Hero)
Character Name: Snake Plissken
Origin: Escape from NY/LA
Word Count: 1,763
Rating: R
Author's note: Contains elements of death, rape and war. Descretion advised.



The Leningrad Ruse )

Crossposted to [livejournal.com profile] deviant_muses
call_me_snake: (Default)
Title: Heart of a Hero
Fandom: John Carpenter
Characters: Snake Plissken
Prompt: 067: Snow
Word Count: 1,494
Rating: PG-13 (Mild Swearing and violence)
Author's Notes: For [livejournal.com profile] will_porter who claimed Lieutenant!Snake. If you have not claimed a Snake and want to go here to claim one.
Summary: The happenings in Siberia during the war that led to Snake receiving his first purple heart


Touch Down 06:30:00 SMT )

Crossposted to [livejournal.com profile] fanfic100
call_me_snake: (Alone)
Character name: Snake Plissken
Fandom: John Carpenter's Escape From NY/LA
Disclaimers warning: Snake belongs to John Carpenter, Debra Hill, Paramount Pictures, Kurt Russell and Hurricane Comics. Just showing my love for their genius.
Challenge topic: Describe the first time you fell in "love".
Rating: PG-13


When Time is Lost You Can Never Win It Back )

Crossposted to [livejournal.com profile] random_fic
call_me_snake: (War Hero)
When you’re trained for the military, they teach you rank always knows best... Your superiors are always better informed, with more answers and better skills.

Yeah I was suspicious of that bastard Captain Berrigan. Taylor and I both were suspicious. Gut said it was a set up but the nagging truth of training told us we were mutinous even treasonous doubting his superior rank. We had been brainwashed by the military and didn’t even know it.

He always wore that damned gas mask. It wasn’t really that suspicious as one would think. The Siberian Front, in what used to Germany, was so loaded with poison gas even a fucking cracked out crazy wouldn’t walk out the door without one. Still even in the air filtered compound he kept it on. Just wrote it off as military stir-craziness. We all got it over there. It was the paranoia of being poisoned; losing your mind to something you couldn’t see, taste or touch. It gets to you after awhile.

Taylor and I believed him and saddled our squadron up for Leningrad. Even that bastard Hauk was suckered into it. He and the Texas Thunder were our cover fire. Off we all fucking went to our dooms. Fucking lost about everything that day. Sophia, my squadron, Taylor’s leg and part of his sanity, my eye, both Taylor and I lost our parents for surviving that nightmare and worst of all we lost our belief in America.

There was no turning back after that. No more thinking it would get better someday because after that moment we knew it would never be better again.

Damn, I wish I would have followed my instincts or at least tore off that damned mask. At least then I’d know which motherfucker to torture to death for that Leningrad bullshit.


crossposted to [livejournal.com profile] theatrical_muse
call_me_snake: (War Hero)
January 15th, 1991

Police force bombings linked to former war hero.

By: Alexius Thornbur


Deadwood, South Dakota

The US Police Force has found leads at the sites of last weeks bombings linking them to a former special forces Lieutenant. Police Commissioner Robertson has named the suspect as 24 year old, Lt. S.D. Plissken who was recently honorably discharged from his Special Forces unit due to injuries received during the Leningrad disaster. Plissken, originally from the Deadwood area, has been sighted just prior to two of the five bombings by civilian eyewitnesses.
Image hosted by Photobucket.com
Lt. S.D. "Snake" Plissken during his military decoration ceremony last month at Fort Wayne, TX.


It is suspected that Plissken is suffering from post traumatic stress syndrome. Robertson has issued a warning listing Plissken as armed and exceptionally dangerous. Military doctor Nathaniel S. Julston spoke with a reporter earlier and stated, “Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome is characterized by violent and often irrational behavior. It is linked with a person’s inability to cope with a past situation. Most often linked with war, it leaves a person to relive or view the world as though they are still in the situations of the past. Plissken’s behavior is characteristic of a severe case of this syndrome. Having been on the front lines directly engaged with the enemy and his recent injuries his perspective of reality is no doubt skewed in such a way that he sees military forces as Russians. The best thing for this young man is the help of a qualified doctor and so it is of utmost importance that he is found before he hurts more citizens.”



Others have offered conflicting views. A man interviewed in Deadwood claiming to know Plissken personally and who asked to remain anonymous argues that Plissken’s criminal acts are relate to the loss of his parents during a “crazy” raid last fall and the Leningrad Ruse. This man maintained that the military intentionally sent Plissken’s Gullfire squadron on a suicide mission to prolong the war and that no attempt was made to recover his parents during the hostage situation leading to their eventual deaths in the fire that consumed the Plissken residence. The accusation appears to be unfounded as Robertson asserts that Plissken was regarded as a fine soldier and hero and that every effort was made to recover his parents before the “crazies” set the house on fire. Furthermore the military maintains that it had no prior knowledge of the Russian forces that had moved into Leningrad just prior to the Leningrad disaster.



The events leading up to the bombings do not change the outcome of the events. Lt. S.D. Plissken, also known as Snake (pictured to the right during his decoration ceremony in December.) is considered dangerous and the US Police Force is asking that citizens report all sightings to your local police station.


Crossposted to [livejournal.com profile] theatrical_muse
call_me_snake: (War Hero)
Title: The Price of Heroism
Fandom: John Carpenter
Character: Snake Plissken
Prompt: 040 - Sight
Word Count: 388
Rating: PG
Summary: Snake wakes in the hospital after the Leningrad Ruse.
Author's note: This take place just prior to another fic I have written about Snake that can be read here. (Note this fic has a PG-13 rating)

V.A. Hospital, Helsinki,Finland - 14:00 hours, 21st, November 1990 )
call_me_snake: (War Hero)
OOC: Cut for extreme spoilerage at the end.


Decoys Left for Dead )


Crossposted to [livejournal.com profile] deviant_muses
call_me_snake: (War Hero)
Leningrad. When those political bastards sent us to our deaths. We were winning this fucking war, damned thing might have been over by now but damned politicians...peace talks are the last fucking thing they want. So that fucking president should've left The Duke slit his throat sent us on this routine survey of enemy forces.

God damn when I found out why, I wanted everyone to die. Twenty of the best damned glider pilots went on that mission, only Taylor and I made it back. Our own damned government had set up the ambush with the Commies so they could use our deaths to prolong this fucking war. Hell of a lot of good pilots died all my friends and Sophia damn I miss her some days. Taylor lost his leg because of those bastards and my eye is permanently fucked now. Jesus Christ you’d think we were the enemy for the way they treated us.

Fuck they were even nice enough to murder my parents while they were sending me to my fucking grave. Burned them and old Cloe with flamethrowers and tossed them in an unmarked pit. Not a fucking word about their deaths. They’d been dead three months when I found out. Damned USPF burned the house right the fuck with them.

Some treatment for their favorite "war hero"; Yeah fuck them.


Crossposted to [livejournal.com profile] theatrical_muse
call_me_snake: (Default)
Yeah try losing an eye. During the war, which I don't give a fuck about, I got that poisoned gas every one of those bastards were throwing around, in my eye during a flight mission. Bastards never told us they were sending us to our deaths, a suicide mission in unpowered gliders. You land and there is no taking off. All I got was a damned purple heart and people calling me their fuckin' idol...Nice!

Try learning to live again with only one usable eye. The other paralyzed and in the light the pain is so excruciating all you can do is scream. Lose an eye and you lose all your perception of distance and depth. Means due to those bastards and their futile fucking war I had to relearn to be a pilot, to shoot a gun, to drive, hell to even fucking walk again. The hassle of spending days runnin' into every damned thing because I couldn't tell how far away it was.

Add to that the half a dozen bastards who wanted a piece of my hide and you have one hell of an obstacle. As you can clearly see losing my eye was far less of an obstacle then what those bastards found when they came callin' after me.






Crossposted to [livejournal.com profile] theatrical_muse

Profile

call_me_snake: (Default)
Snake Plissken

September 2013

S M T W T F S
1234567
891011121314
1516171819 2021
22232425262728
2930     

Syndicate

RSS Atom

Most Popular Tags

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags
Page generated Jun. 19th, 2025 04:58 am
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios