There are two words that strike into my heart every damn time I play a game:
Escort Mission.
So many, so very many games, involve a mission where someone says, Hey, would you mind being my bodyguard while I do some inane task that you can’t do for some reason? It’ll only take forever, and I will be of no help, and in fact likely present another obstacle to my own protection.
Sounds okay. Maybe you shoot a couple guys and carry a pre-cracked-out Whitney Houston from a building?
No.
Instead, you try over and over to keep someone alive who has no sense of self-preservation, no ability to fight back, and no actual will to live, apparently.
For me, memorably, was the stage in Nintendo 64’s Goldeneye where you had to protect the hapless Natalia while she did some computer hacking garbage. For her hacking mission, she elected to wear a skirt and tall shoes. Which is perfect because the room you have to be in is reminiscent of a nightclub filled with multiple levels, exits all over the place, and an endless stream of hostile dudes looking to destroy a woman.
I feel there’s a necessary conversation to be had before escorting someone through a building filled with hostile terrorists. For one, hows about not sprinting down the hallway the instant the elevator door opens? That’s kind of a rule here. Or hey, why don’t you stay ducked behind a wall while I run in, kill, kill, kill, and then I’ll come back for you. Hide in this cardboard box. If a cardboard box is good enough for Solid Snake, it’s most certainly good enough for you, lady.
After a panicked sprint through hallways to find some keycard, she would stand, dopey, at the computer while you fought off dudes with machine guns for what felt like hours. It never ended. And then, just when you were taking a breath, a guy would pop out of some side door and blow her away.
As a super hacker, was it really necessary for her to select the terminal in the middle of the goddamn room? Couldn’t we have picked one off to the side or something?
Also, what a bunch of bullshit. Having been in a lot of buildings with IT departments, I can tell you that there’s not one where the tech geeks are in a huge, well-lit room where all the action is. This aesthetic clashes with their own, which involves cables and corn chip bags.
I wish this was the only time this sort of thing happened, but there are tons of other escort levels in games too.
Grand Theft Auto was always a fan of these. Some idiot gets into a car, you get in another car, and you’re supposed to keep everyone else from crashing into and killing him.
This is a pretty tough task, and why the asshole can’t just get in the car with you is beyond me.
Pretty soon, it turns into a driving mission that’s less like the Road Warrior and more like trying to follow a dumb friend through traffic. He’s weaving around, turning from the outside lane, and almost can’t believe it when he loses you on unfamiliar, crowded city streets.
There’s always that moment when following someone when they hit a stale green light, floor it through the yellow, and you’re left on the other side. You’re sitting, ready to gun the engine on a moving van with no brakes to speak of, watching your friend fade into the distance. That anxiety and frustration is basically the way you feel the whole time.
By the time your escortee has been killed a dozen different ways, including you immediately shooting him or her in the head on sight because you’re just so damn sick of it all, you don’t give one damn whether he or she lives or dies. In Yoshi’s Island, a game that is basically ALL escorting, I would find myself jumping into pits or spikes, committing suicide with a clear conscience because I knew I was taking the squawling infant Mario down with me. It was worth it. Well worth it.
If these escort missions are going to happen, I’d like to see some ground rules:
1. Escortees should behave somewhat like real people.
I don’t know how to clear a room with an M-16, but I know enough to let James Bond go ahead and walk out of the elevator and into the secret military bunker first. I do know that. And if someone is supposed to be using a vehicle to protect mine, I generally let them know where the hell we’re going to go before we get there.
2. You’re a human being, the escortee is a human being. Therefore, you should be able to take about the same amount of damage. It never works like that in the games. The escortee is basically the human version of Humpty Dumpty, and a trip off the curb is a pelvis-shattering debacle. Let’s even this up a little.
3. The escortee, when being escorted, should show a little goddamn gratitude. I guess game designers think it’s cute when the escortee is witty and complaining about the job you’re doing. Well, it’s not cute, and if some dude wasted an army guy who was about to blow my head off, I think a Thanks Bro, or at the very least NOT making fun of him would be in order.
4. When the escortee dies, make it worth my while. I know I’m going to have to start this stupid mission all over again, so couldn’t you make it more interesting for me? Exploding neck collar? Nuclear heart valve that blows the hell up? Convenient wardrobe malfunction (have you noticed that in movies no female characters are ever shot or stabbed in the breast? I would think this would happen all the time).