Solid Frodo: Hobbit Espionage Action

Chapter 14: Super Deluxe Alpha Fetch Quest DX Gold, Valium Edition

They were back in the Warg cavern.

"Now what?" Merry asked, kicking his feet. "Can we manage this whole Warg thing a second time?"

The Hobbits were at a bit of a loss—they had barely managed the first time. But soon the Warg cub ran up, sniffed once, then promptly leapt up on Sam, a big read heart hovering over its head. Sam barely had a chance to prepare, but he managed to keep the cub from knocking him down in its enthusiasm. He turned his face away from the copious Warg kisses the cub wanted to inflict on him, but in short order his face was thoroughly licked.

Merry and Pippin gawked. "That’s...that’s...that’s just not right!" Pippin exclaimed.

Sam was forced to hold the wriggling, happy bundle of fluff at arm’s reach when it started playfully nipping at his nose. "I don’t know if I like it either," Sam said.

"You like it," Frodo declared. "You know you do."

Just a slight blush touched Sam’s cheeks. "Well...I might like it better if it weren’t a Warg."

The Warg managed to get out of Sam’s grip and began alternating between jumping at him and splaying its front legs and wagging its tail.

"It wants to play!" Merry said.

"I know it does, but we don’t have time to play," Sam said very seriously. Frodo smiled, remembering only moments ago how Sam was wrestling with the cub.

"Can you go...well, go out with the cub, Sam? Like you did before?" Pippin asked.

"I...I...well...yes...I suppose...," Sam said, sounding absolutely petrified of the idea. But he gathered his courage, picked up the Warg cub (which was completely delighted with this turn and began pulling at Sam’s hair), and then slowly made his way to the crack. Then he crawled under it, and the other Hobbits followed very close behind him.

The adult Wargs were onto them immediately. Just as before, they sniffed at Sam with large question marks over head, clearly not sure what to make of this. When the other Hobbits came out behind Sam, the Wargs circled around behind him and started growling.

This made for an interesting dilemma. The Wargs were wary of Sam but not aggressive toward him, but they thought the other Hobbits would be great to have for a snack. This forced the three Hobbits currently on the Warg’s menu to have to circle behind Sam...in essence, keep Sam and the Warg cub between them and the adult Wargs.

It wouldn’t be precisely correct to say Sam was thrilled with this.

Slowly, so slowly, Sam shuffled forward in the direction he thought was the right one...it was somewhat difficult to tell because the cub was still yanking on his curls and biting his ear and licking him so much he was certain it would lick a whole layer of his hide right off. In the mean time, Pippin, Merry, and Frodo stayed as close to Sam as they possibly could, moving around to keep the Wargs on the other side of the poor gardener. Sometimes this meant Sam would stumble into them, as the Hobbits circled around in front, and sometimes this meant Sam was walking straight at two growling Wargs.

It was very trying and tiring on Sam, but he couldn’t in all honesty say it was the scariest thing he had ever done. Perhaps the most frightening in cold blood, but standing still with Sting above his head waiting for Shelob to smash him with her huge abdomen was by far more terrifying. That just hadn’t happened in cold blood...

It seemed to make a difference though. Doing something in a rage and doing something in cold blood were very very different, and Sam found this cold-blooded ‘heroism’ very difficult. It felt more like cold-blooded stupidity, and went against every Hobbit instinct he had.

It didn’t help one bit that the Warg cub was yanking on his hair either.

Eventually, however, the Hobbits made it to the right place to exit the snow covered Warg cavern. To the Hobbits it felt like it had taken years. When they reached the little crawl space, the three ‘snack’ Hobbits backed out into it, while Sam stood guard with the happy cub. As soon as the last Hobbit was through, Sam set the cub down and backed up into the dark cavern.

Then Sam stood, and promptly let out an ear-piercing scream. Then he tackled Merry and started rifling through his pockets until he found Merry’s pipe and pouch of weed. Merry didn’t protest, except to mentally grumble that it would have been nice if Sam had just asked, while Sam sat and shook so hard he couldn’t get the pipe lit.

"Here, let me help," Merry said, reaching for the tinder and helping Sam light the pipe. Once it was lit, Sam took a long drag on it, but almost dropped it a few times since he was still shaking. Of course the other Hobbits understood, certain they would be the ones shivering like a terrified child after a nightmare if they had been the ‘shield’ Hobbit.

While Sam tried to relax, the other Hobbits discussed their options. Pippin asked, "So...we have to go through that poison filled room again, right?"

"And then get to that room with the truck Otacon mentioned, right?" Merry added.

Frodo nodded sullenly. "Then we have to get back into the fortress and make it all the way back to Meryl. That means going through the Warg cavern again...."

Sam almost dropped Merry’s pipe.

"Ugh. Who set this whole thing up? Why couldn’t the sniper rifle be in a better location?" Pippin complained.

"What, like exactly where we needed it?" Frodo asked.

"Yes, that’s it exactly. The Nikita was right where we needed it."

"The C-4 was right where we needed it," Merry added.

Frodo threw up his hands. "I don’t know! Why don’t we call up Liquid Snake and ASK him?!"

"Well, I wish we could," Pippin muttered. "If he’s the one that scattered the weapons, I think he really needs to reevaluate his strategy. Leaving a rocket launcher in a room with guards that can’t wait to pee, but sticking the sniper rifle way back that way."

"There’s nothing we can do about it," Frodo said. "The sniper rifle is all the way back there, so we have to go all the way back to get it."

"Hrmph," Pippin grumped, then pulled the box out of his pocket. "Here. You’re the box-lover, you carry it."

Frodo snapped up the box and pocketed it. "I’m hoping the second box will take us back to the storage building so we don’t have to pass through the snowfield."

"We better start off if we plan on finding out," Merry said. Then he looked at Sam, who seemed much calmer now that he’d had a chance to relax and have a little smoke.

Sam handed Merry the pipe back. "Thank you," he said, as calmly as he could.

"No, we should thank you, and kiss your furry toes," Merry said. "That was very brave of you."

Sam blushed a bit. "Well...maybe...but I’d rather you not kiss my toes."

Merry laughed. "That’s fine, I’d rather not kiss your toes either!"

After that, the Hobbits stood and started down the dark pathway to the Commander’s Room. They realized with no little excitement that they were wrong about having to go through the poison filled room, as that was on the way to Otacon’s room and they didn’t need to go that way. So instead they simply rode the elevator up to the nuclear warhead storage room and peeked out. They realized they would have to take out the very inconveniently placed guard a second time.

But they weren’t terribly worried; the tackle-and-whip-until-unconscious method had worked well the first time, so they didn’t see why they shouldn’t try it a second time. This time they would give the guard a severe whipping so they could get to the truck before he woke up.

And so, as soon as he passed by, that’s exactly what they did: Frodo pulled the guard down while Merry, Pippin, and Sam smacked him around with the broadsides of their blades until the poor guard was quite thoroughly unconscious. He even had four stars over his head rather than the usual three.

Then the Hobbits ran down the stairs and sneaked around the roving eye until they reached the truck. Frodo pulled out the first box, and he and Sam hid under it, while Merry and Pippin did their best to hide behind the box.

It looked like they succeeded, since a guard peeked inside the back and then the truck rumbled to life. It didn’t take long for the truck to take the Hobbits back outside the fortress, parking in the same place that Sam had found the SOCOM in the first place. As soon as the Hobbits felt the guard exit the truck and had a look around with their radar, they too hopped out the back. They Hobbit-footed their way to the first camera-eye they had seen, and sneaked by it the same way they had the first time.

Shortly they found themselves in the Oliphaunt hangar. The Armory was two floors down, so they rapidly made their way to the elevator and Pippin pressed the down triangle twice.

When the doors opened, the Hobbits immediately noted there were guards in here now. "Oh how convenient," Merry muttered under his breath as a guard passed them by without looking at the elevator.

"These guards are really lacking in the intelligence department," Pippin commented, thinking it would be wise to wonder if anyone was actually in the elevator that just dinged noisily and opened.

"A condition with which you are eminently familiar, correct?" Merry quipped.

Pippin gave him a dirty look. "Why is it everyone thinks I’m dumb?"

"Dumb is as dumb does," Frodo smiled.

Pippin’s expression soured even more. "Now he decides to stop being Mr. Doom and Gloom...." The tall Hobbit shot Sam a glance before the gardener had a chance to say anything. "No sticking up for him!"

Sam looked mildly offended. "I didn’t say nothin’."

"But you were gonna."

Sam looked away with his nose in the air. "Maybe. Maybe I was. But you can’t prove it now."

Pippin huffed slightly. Then Frodo waved them all out of the elevator and they went searching for the room with the sniper rifle.

It took quite a bit of sneaking and circling around behind guards, but they eventually made it to the right room. When they went in, they noticed those strange eyes on the walls, so Merry immediately brought out his pipe and lit it, exposing the fire lines.

This time it wasn’t quite as straightforward to get to the items on the other side, as there were several canisters up ended and things in the way. Again, Sam was elected to get the items because he was the smallest Hobbit, though he was really beginning to dislike the role he had acquired as fetch Hobbit and shield Hobbit through this little adventure. But he was quite agile enough, and the fire lines were made to be difficult for Big People to maneuver around rather than Hobbits, so he easily picked up the items and brought them back through the fire lines.

When Sam was done, Merry extinguished his pipe and they got down to the business of looking at their new acquisition. Just as Frodo opened the box, their Codecs beeped and Colonel Campbell came on and exclaimed, "You got the PSG-1! Now hurry back and save Meryl!" he didn’t stay on long.

The Hobbits just shrugged, and Frodo pulled the PSG-1 out of the box. It was quite a long rifle...it was, in fact, longer than Frodo or Sam were tall. Merry smiled happily. "YOU have to carry that, Frodo."

"But why? It’s bigger than me!"

"Because Pippin and I decided that the next weapon we found that was bigger than you would be yours to carry."

"Hrrrr. Fine," Frodo mumbled, then stuck the rifle in his pocket, where it fit nicely.

Sam picked up the other item box he had found. "I suppose these are the bullets," he said, examining them.

"I think so. They look just like the bullets I found in the Warg cavern." He turned to Pippin. "See? They conveniently left bullets for the rifle right where we needed them."

"Yes," Pippin said, "But they didn’t leave the rifle where it was convenient. Arrows are useless without a bow, Cousin Baggins."

"We got what we came for," Merry said. "We should be getting back as soon as we can!"

"Yes of course!" Frodo said, and the Hobbits all returned to the elevator and then went back outside. Frodo pulled out the second box, and they tried the same trick as before. It worked a second time, and soon they found themselves in the Nuclear Warhead Storage building. "I wish I had a pen to write which box is which," Frodo murmured.

"If you use the wrong box, we just won’t go anywhere, right?" Pippin commented.

"That’s true," Frodo said. Then they all exited the truck and made their way back up to the elevator. They expected to see the guard up and about, but it looked like he was still out, with two stars over his head instead of four.

"I guess we got him good," Merry said as they entered the elevator and Pippin pressed the appropriate triangle. After a little more travel they were back in the dreaded Warg cavern.

Sam started shivering again, and it took quite a bit of self-control for him not to bolt right out of the room. "I don’t think I can do that again!" he said, his voice shaking.

"Dear Sam, I wish you didn’t have to," Frodo said. "But maybe we can go a little differently. Run as fast as we can...."

"But...but...you can’t outrun a Warg, sir!" Sam pointed out, and it was true enough; Wargs were much faster than Hobbits.

"Wait, I have an idea!" Pippin exclaimed. "We can all borrow some of your clothes, Sam! If we do that, we might confuse the Wargs long enough to let us through."

"Oh, that might work!" Sam said, brightening. Then his face fell. "But I don’t have that much clothes to be lending to anyone...."

Pippin winced. "Oo, sorry...that’s true."

"But...but...well...it’s all we have," Sam said unhappily. "I don’t think I can do that what I did the first time again." So Sam undid his cloak and handed it to Merry, then he wrestled his top off and handed it to Pippin...then after a long moment of hesitation, he squirmed out of his Sneaking Suit pants and handed them to Frodo, leaving Sam with just his scabbard and his undergarments.

Fortunately Hobbits aren’t prone to being over modest, and the other Hobbits had once or twice seen Sam in less than that, but that didn’t mean Hobbits liked capering about in their underwear. And it was cold.

But it was the best solution they could come up with that didn’t involve giving Sam a heart attack, so the other Hobbits changed into Sam’s clothes as quickly as they could, both to preserve the scent and to get through the cavern. Sam’s Suit top didn’t fit Pippin at all, but he squished as much of himself into it as he could, and put his Elf cloak in a pocket. Frodo faired better, but Sam’s pants were still a bit tight on him, and he wondered if there was a chance Naomi had made Pippin’s pants too small, because Sam’s smaller pants certainly were riding up something fierce. Merry faired best of all, just stowing his cloak and wrapping up in Sam’s—it didn’t matter much that the cloak was a little short for him.

"We better hurry," Frodo said, "before Sam’s scent gets out of his clothes." Pippin muttered something unintelligible from inside Sam’s top.

The Hobbits all crawled under the small crack (well, Pippin more correctly slithered), and ran as fast as they could to the other side. Sam was freezing, but that didn’t stop the Warg cub from pouncing on him and scratching his legs to ribbons with its little tiny razor sharp claws.

But the plan worked; the adult Wargs were confused to say the least by all the conflicting scents, and sniffed at the Hobbits questioningly. They all made it to the other small crawl-space intact, although Pippin had bumped into a few walls on the way, as he had a hard time seeing through Sam’s Sneaking Suit top. And he was the last to get under the crack, and the other Hobbits had to yank him through before the Wargs began feasting on his Pippin-scented legs.

All the yanking produced was Sam’s top, which Sam grabbed and started pulling on. But that freed Pippin to crawl, so he finished the trip with only one Warg-nip to his heel.

The Hobbits all exchanged clothes again, and Sam was happy to be back in something warm. Merry handed Pippin a tin of ration to heal up the Warg bite, and he munched on it after getting his own top and cloak back in place. Frodo had actually pulled out one of his boxes to change in, and the Hobbits wondered at that. Frodo never answered why, since he hadn’t been so modest only a few minutes before, but the real reason was the extreme wedgie Sam’s small pants had left for him to extricate.

Once they were all ready and Pippin’s foot had healed, they walked through the door and finally returned to where Meryl was.

Or rather, where she was supposed to be. "Where’d she go?!" Pippin asked loudly, which ended up being a bit of a mistake, since a red dot appeared on him and he had to dive into a corner to avoid getting shot. The other Hobbits also hid in the corners.

"We know Sniper Wolf is still there," Sam commented.

"But how are we supposed to save Meryl if Meryl isn’t even here?" Pippin demanded.

"They must have taken her somewhere else while we were gone," Frodo said. "Once we beat Sniper Wolf, we can go over that way and see if maybe they took her over there." He pointed in the direction of the communications tower.

"OK then...get out that rifle, Frodo," Merry said. "I don’t know that Pippin or I can use it alone, but we’ll have to try."

So Frodo pulled the four-foot long rifle from his pocket and handed it over to Merry. Merry fiddled with the rifle a bit, trying different positions, and finally decided on placing the butt of the PSG-1 against his hip and lying on his belly. He looked through the sniper scope, and found he could see right to where Sniper Wolf must be—there was a little telltale cloud of cold breath puffing out from behind a pillar. But his aim was terrible for some reason; he figured it must be the distance, since Hobbits usually had really good aim, and he could see the sight shift every time his heart beat.

Without firing a shot, Merry quickly got up and hid in a corner. "Hey, Sam, pass me that little box of Valium, would you? I think I need something to make me stop twitching...it’s not real bad up close, but it’s really messing up my aim with this rifle."

"OK," Sam said, and tossed Merry the box.

Merry opened it up and pulled out one of the little blue objects. It looked a good deal like what an apothecary might compress some herbs into. "Here goes," Merry said, a little nervous, and took the pill. "I wonder how...hee...long it...hee hee...takes to...hee...hee...." Merry slumped almost bonelessly against the wall, looking like the picture of a most soundly drunk Hobbit.

"Not long I don’t think," Pippin answered the question Merry didn’t quite get out.

Merry was still giggling to himself when he got out his pipe and started to fill it clumsily with pipeweed. Pippin snatched it out of Merry’s hands, which was a lot easier than usual. "I think you are quite relaxed enough already, Cousin Brandybuck. No pipeweed for you."

Meriadoc only made a half-effort to get his pipe back; otherwise, he looked just a touch too intoxicated to really care. "I think...well, surely this must be obvious, but I think we should avoid the Valium," Pippin declared.

"You’re quite right," Frodo said. "It is rather obvious."

Pippin’s only response was a mildly heated glance. Then he took the PSG-1 and tried aiming it the way Merry had. "Huh. It is a little tricky to aim. I think I’ll use a more conventional method of relaxation though," Pippin commented as he also removed himself from Sniper Wolf’s aim and lit Merry’s pipe. After he felt sufficiently relaxed, Pippin aimed the rifle again, and the pipeweed smoke seemed to have helped a good deal.

He saw Sniper Wolf come out of hiding and prepare her own rifle, and Pippin pulled the trigger, winging her slightly. He could see a little blood on her arm, and she went back to hiding. This went on a few times, but Pippin, being so focused on the sights and hitting Sniper Wolf, did not realize how lucky he was. Sniper Wolf didn’t just have one Hobbit to aim at, she had four—one very much intoxicated and capering behind Pippin, and two others trying to keep the drunk Hobbit from getting any more of the diazepam, which the aforementioned Hobbit drooled out as "D...d...diazzzz...heee..." as well as trying to keep him out of harm’s way.

So Pippin was in much less danger than he realized, though when he briefly caught a look of shock on Wolf’s face, he was a little curious what it was about. He thought it might have been about seeing Hobbits...he had no idea it was about seeing Hobbits act like utter fools behind him. It afforded him a good shot though, so he took it.

Sniper Wolf and Pippin exchanged shots a couple times, and once Wolf hit Pippin, making his aim go wide. So he got up and turned to Merry to get a ration, but then he realized Merry was in no condition to do much of anything at the moment. "ARE YOU INSANE?" Pippin demanded.

Merry only giggled, and Sam said, "It’s kept you safe...so don’t worry too much about it. I just hope this diapizam...er...Valium whatsit gets out of his system as fast as it got in. I don’t know what we’ll do with him if it don’t!" Merry began singing a ridiculous and completely inappropriate and unrepeatable song he must have learned from some dirty old Hobbit in a tavern somewhere, or more likely via the usual route of young Hobbits just knowing heinous things like that.

"Agh!" Pippin cried, "my virgin ears!"

Frodo looked at him aghast. "Pippin! I KNOW your tongue can be as filthy as Merry’s...and I would even hazard a guess that you taught this song to him!"

"Not I!" Pippin defended. "I’ll admit I know a few songs like that, but this one is new to me!"

Sam clamped a hand over Merry’s mouth. "I’ve heard it before, but I didn’t go teaching him. It’s just one of them bawdy drinking songs."

"Well as long as he stops singing it. It’s distracting. Anyway, would one of you be so kind as to get a ration for me? Wolf shot me," Pippin asked, and pointed at his shoulder, where a little bit of blood trickled.

Since Sam’s hands were busy keeping Merry’s mouth shut, Frodo searched Merry’s pockets and produced a ration for Pippin. Pippin thanked him and quickly ate it. It still surprised the Hobbits to see how well the horrid tasting waybread healed wounds. Shortly Pippin was in fighting form again, and after taking a few drags from Merry’s pipe, he went back out to sniping.

Fortunately it only took one more hit for Sniper Wolf to go down. They heard her scream, the sound faint at such a distance, and Pippin handed Frodo the PSG-1. Frodo frowned but put it in a pocket anyway.

"Well, that’s over. Shall we wait until Merry is sane again to go forward or shall we go now?" Pippin asked.

"I’d rather not wait," Frodo said. "I think I will go forward and you can wait for me."

"Sir, I don’t like that idea one bit," Sam said. "We don’t know what’s up there."

"But Meryl can’t wait for Merry to get his wits about him again, can she?" Frodo argued.

"No...I still don’t like it."

"Sniper Wolf is down," Frodo said. "Follow me half way, and if I get in any trouble I’ll call for you."

Sam was still very unhappy about the idea, but they did as Frodo suggested. It was a slow walk; they practically had to carry Merry. Fortunately the Valium did get out of his system fast enough, and soon Merry was apologizing profusely for his behavior and walking on his own. Pippin felt it was safe to return the pipe to Merry, so he did, and Merry pocketed it, done with being overly relaxed for the time being.

When they reached a convenient hiding spot, Frodo stopped them and went forward, Sting unsheathed. It was times like this that Sam wanted to beat a little caution into Frodo’s head.

Frodo felt he was doing what he should do, however, and he didn’t think he would be in any danger. After all, Sniper Wolf had been shot down. Frodo went and collected a few boxes of ammunition, but was surprised to find blood splotches on the ground but no Sniper Wolf. He became concerned, but when he turned to go back to where the others were hiding, he saw two guards with their guns trained on him.

Frodo frowned, wondering if he could get by the guards, but he didn’t think he could. Then, Sniper Wolf stepped over, looking as though she hadn’t been hurt at all. She had short hair and a jacket that didn’t cover nearly enough of her chest to be considered useful. "Lossoth," Frodo muttered. Secretly he was glad he had come alone; otherwise, his friends might have fallen into the same trap.

"Stupid man," Sniper said in a husky voice.

"Hobbit," Frodo corrected.

"Whatever. It’s hard to miss when you’re this close. Toss your weapon over here, slowly."

Frodo complied, as there were quite a few too many guns pointed at him. He slid Sting over to Wolf’s feet, then stood up.

Sniper Wolf picked up the blade, a mere dagger in her hands. "So," she asked, "Do you want to die now, or after your female friend? Which will it be?"

"Honestly? I’d rather no one died," Frodo answered, which elicited a few snickers from the guards.

"That’s funny. I’m Sniper Wolf and I always kill what I aim at." She leaned down and looked Frodo right in the face. "You’re my...special prey...got it?" she purred. She traced a finger along Frodo’s cheek, which made him distinctly uncomfortable. Then she snapped her finger back, raking her nail across his skin and leaving a small bloody mark in the process. Frodo flinched, but said nothing.

"I’ve left my mark on you. I won’t forget it." She stood up and said, "Until I kill you...you’re all I’ll think about."

Before Frodo could react, one of the guards hit him in the back of the head with the butt of their pistol. The world started to go fuzzy, and the last thing Frodo heard was Sniper Wolf saying, "Take him away!"

Go on to Chapter 15