Disclaimer: It's definitely not mine. The Patriots own Metal Gear Solid, duh.

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In the Debris
PROLOGUE
"An ocelot never lets his prey escape."
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It still smelled like gunpowder. Even from all the way up here he could still smell the death that radiated from the wreckage. He couldn't even remember how long it had been since the C3 had blown the place sky high. Volgin crashing around in Shagohod didn't help to keep the parts of the fortress the blast hadn't effected intact. The bodies of the dead soldiers were still there; he could see them plainly from here. Someone had piled them up in one big heap and left them for the animals to feed from.

Smoke still drifted up from the debris of Groznyj Grad. Slowly, the gray funnels of ash floated up into the cloudless blue sky and were blown away by the wind. The carnage that had took place at the fortress was still fresh in Big Boss', Jack's, memory. He could still feel the electricity from "Thunderbolt"'s attacks surging through him.

"Shoot him!" Electricity travels along each of the crevice-like scars on Colonel Volgin's body as he speaks, angrily gesturing toward the man standing in a low stance nearby, ready to use close quarters combat at any given moment on the Colonel. The young, blond, Russian standing on a catwalk above the battlefield simply stands his ground, keeping a blank face. "Do you hear me," Volgin says, anger clear in his voice. "I said shoot him!" The air crackles around the Colonel as his temper flares.

The Ocelot Unit commander's lips twitch as he holds back a grin. "Sorry Colonel. I'm afraid I can't do that," he states, shrugging one shoulder and giving Volgin a look of forced pity.

"What do you mean," says Volgin, a blue, electric charge jumping between the fingers of his hand, still pointed at his adversary, Naked Snake, "you can't?"

The grin escapes. "I made a promise to The Boss."

Volgin's hand drops to his side, the electricity that had gathered in it jumping to his leg with a crack. "Silence!" he rages, the anger boiling inside of him, "I am your commanding officer!"

To defy these words said by his so-called, "commanding officer", Ocelot pulls one of his Colt Single Action Army Revolvers from a holster and fires upon Volgin. Pulsating blue electricity surrounds the GRU commander. An electromagnetic field deflects the bullet shot by Major Ocelot.

"Are you questioning my authority?" Volgin glares at his fellow Russian, knowing the obvious answer to the question.

Ocelot narrows his eyes and says, "Fight like a man, Volgin," in a demanding, on the verge of commanding, voice.

Something troubles the Colonel as he hears the words spoken. His glaring falters for a moment, just one moment, hardly a tenth of a second, the falter being something only a trained eye, or someone who was looking for it, would spot, before returning with more intensity than before as he speaks, "Volgin . . . ?" questioning Ocelot's use of his superior officer's name, rather than his rank.

A loudspeaker fizzles somewhere in the room. "Emergency!" it blares, the announcer hiding the fear in his voice, "Explosives have been detected. All non-EOD personnel must evacuate immediately."

The Colonel growls, turning his gaze to Snake. "Ocelot," he says, "find those bombs!" Ocelot seems to laugh at Volgin's words.

"Repeat. Explosives have been detected. All non-EOD personnel must evacuate immediately."

Volgin glowers at Snake, as the CIA agent sidesteps, about to begin a pre-close quarters combat shuffle. "Move it!" commands the Colonel, watching Snake like a hawk.

Ocelot brings both his hands up to the middle of his chest, the Single Action Army Revolver having been returned to its proper place, and gestured to Snake, his forefingers pointing at Snake, each hand taking the shape of a gun and then pulling back in mock firing. The young Russian swiftly walks away down the catwalk and out of sight.

Volgin watches from the corner of his eye as Ocelot walks away. Snake takes the opportunity and rushes forward, grabbing Volgin's arm, twisting it and then throwing him to the ground. The knife in Snake's hand lashes out, ripping open Volgin's shirt. Crimson blood seeps from the cut created beneath the torn fabric and soaks the rest of the shirt.

"Ready for some more, Snake?" Volgin questions, jumping to his feet with surprising quickness for a man of his size. Blue current surges around his hands as he brings his fist back, the punch aimed at Snake's head . . . .

"Nostalgia," he muttered. "Fuck nostalgia. It only leads to . . . ." Jack trailed off as he continued to stare out over the remains of Groznyj Grad. "Pain" was going to be his next word but another memory played itself out in his mind.

He woke up alone, which was odd considering he was sure he'd fallen asleep next to the spy who had been tempting him since he'd met up with her at the Rassvet Factory. He'd met EVA when he'd been ordered to meet ADAM. Of course, he had ended up meeting both of them that night. Well, he'd met ADAM for the second time . . . Adamska. Major Ocelot, commander of the Ocelot unit. It hadn't taken all that long for Snake to realize who ADAM was . . . but nothing regarding Ocelot's involvement pieced together afterwards. Not like after . . . .

Snake stood and approached a table, spotting a small, black cassette tape lying next to a player. He picked up the tape, eyeing it closely before putting it into the player and pressing the large "play" button. What followed on that tiny piece of plastic and magnetic strips explained a lot to Snake, tied up a few loose ends so to speak.

After the tape had finished, self-destructing once its course had been run, Snake sat back and pondered the situation, musing at the sudden grief he felt at EVA's abandoning him.

Jack smiled to himself, though he wasn't quite sure why. He didn't feel remotely happy or enthusiastic. Didn't have any reason at all to smile. He just did. "Nostalgia leads to fucking pain. . . ." There were plenty other things that nostalgia could lead to: grief, sadness, happiness . . . but ultimately, to Snake, it all led to pain . . . eventually. Even nostalgia that brought a sense of relief would lead to the pain that just because it's all over now, doesn't mean some shit like this isn't going to happen again. Sooner or later, somebody's going to fuck up and everything's going to come crashing down.

"Oh, there's nothing like happy memories in the morning, is there . . . John?"

Jack tensed at the voice. He spun around, reaching for the knife sheathed on his belt. The blond Russian shook his head at Jack's actions. "Please, please. We're not enemies . . . that is, unless . . . you want us to be?"

This time, Big Boss knew why he was smiling. Ocelot, or Adamska, looked up to Snake . . . as a worthy adversary. The two had faced off on numerous occasions, yet Snake had beaten Ocelot on each. Fighting with the young Major had been something of a game . . . for both of them.

Now calm, Jack stood to face Adamska, nodding slightly at him. The chain that had once been attached to a bullet that had jammed in Ocelot's handgun during their first meeting was still around the man's neck, though nothing was on the end of it now. Just a plain metal chain. It was understandable that Ocelot hadn't or just couldn't find anything to replace the bullet that had once hung there . . . Jack scratched his chest and while doing so, pushed a chain similar to Ocelot's under his coat. On the end of said chain hung the bullet that Jack had not fired during that fateful battle in the WIG.

Adamska tilted his head slightly to the side, spotting a holster attached to Jack's belt. A Colt Single Action Army Revolver sat between the two leather sides of the holster. Ocelot smirked slightly, satisfied that he, Ocelot, had made an impression on Big Boss and that Big Boss had not just made an impression on Ocelot.

It was clear that the two respected one another, despite the amount of skill level one or the other had, whether one had trained under The Boss herself or whether the other one was merely the son of the legendary Cobra Unit leader. Equal respect, a silent and mutual understanding.

The Russian nodded in the direction of the revolver. "I see you kept it."

"Did you expect me to throw it out? It's a nice gun."

Ocelot's face retained its smirk. "Of course I believed that you would keep it . . . but not that you would keep it so close to you."

The CIA agent let out a small chuckle. "I thought it would be good to bring here . . . for reminiscent purposes."

"I guess you didn't exactly get the nostalgia you wanted?"

"It's kind of hard to get the right nostalgia," Jack mused, "standing here above this place."

"It reeks." Ocelot shook his head in disgust. "That Davy Crockett may have decimated Groznyj Grad, but the place . . . its stench . . . ."

"It still lingers." The body pile that Big Boss has spotted earlier came to his mind. The Davy Crockett that The Boss had fired into Groznyj Grad had leveled the base and probably destroyed most bodies lying beneath the rubble from the earlier explosions with it, which meant that the bodies must have been those who were hiding in the outlying areas and had been killed by the nuclear radiation.

It made sense. From this distance most of the bodies seemed unscathed while seemingly bodies from the firefighting that had ensued after blasting the Main Wing would be bloody, riddled with bullet holes and completely unrecognizable.

"How is the spy, Tatyana?"

Jack was startled by the question. He'd almost completely forgot about EVA after thinking about the death that was Groznyj Grad. "I wouldn't know," he answered, staring at the shack behind Adamska. It was in there that EVA had given Snake the key to enter the underground tunnel leading to Groznyj Grad.

"How much do you know?" Ocelot questioned, the information pertinent for him to further talk with Big Boss. There was no doubt in either's mind that Ocelot knew much more than Big Boss did.

"Enough," Jack replied. "About what The Boss did . . . all for the United States of America and how EVA was a spy from China, sent in to retrieve the Philosopher's Legacy. She explained it all. . . ."

Ocelot mentally smiled, now knowing the extent of the CIA agent's knowledge. He didn't know about the little trick that had been played on EVA and China . . . and there was no way he knew who Ocelot was really affiliated with. The Boss had known . . . she had known about everything that happened around her, even the things that went unsaid. But the man who had bested her did not know . . . and may very well never know, unless . . .

. . . of course Ocelot could tell him, but . . . .

The Russian observed as the American turned around and walked up to the cliff's edge.

No, not now, thought Ocelot, watching Jack as stared into space, it's too early. Soon. He'll learn soon enough . . . .

"Tell me, John," Adamska began. He received a sort-of grunt from the other man in recognition. "How did she tell you?"

Jack sighed, taking a moment to reflect over waking up . . . alone and finding a tape that explained everything. "A tape," he finally murmured.

Ocelot's eyes widened before narrowing in rage. That bitch, he though bitterly, she couldn't even explain things to him in person! It was such a simple thing to do . . . but then, she would never have had her chance to escape to China, would she? Ocelot pondered while Big Boss stared.

"When I woke up . . . she was gone. I guess it was for the best, I mean . . . it would have been . . ." he faltered and stared for a moment before picking back up, " . . . hard."

The young Major nodded in understanding. "Too difficult a goodbye?" His eyes were still narrowed in rage and he was surprised he kept the fury from his voice. He was hoping like hell that Snake wouldn't turn around and spot his expression.

Big Boss didn't respond. There was no need to.

Silence reigned between the two as Ocelot slumped onto the ground somewhere to Snake's left. The Major leaned back into the grass, not really giving a shit whether or not his uniform had grass stains on it afterwards. Its not like he really had a unit to command anymore. Of his entire unit there was himself and three others who had survived the pandemonium at Groznyj Grad and the gunfights and chases after it. Three lousy soldiers . . . and it was just a uniform. Not to mention, Ocelot could demand respect from those three soldiers no matter how he looked. It was all in the tone of voice, the expression and bodily actions.

He'd had worse stains on his uniform than grass stains anyway . . . like that drop of tartar sauce that just wouldn't go away. He'd hidden the sauce from everyone at Groznyj Grad when food supplies were low and then he'd finally captured some fish while out on a scouting mission only to spill the tartar sauce all over his uniform. The pants had been ruined but he'd salvaged the shirt and tried like hell to convince everyone that it was a blood stain . . . a measly blood stain that refused to leave.

A very, very dark blood stain.

And, of course, someone had the brilliant idea to smell the stain . . . while the shirt was currently being worn by Ocelot. This schemer happened to be Major Ivan Raidenovitch Raikov who ended up on the receiving end of Ocelot's fist . . . after which Ocelot scampered off, realizing just who he had knocked senseless.

Fortunately, Raikov said nothing about the incident to Colonel Volgin. Perhaps to make sure that Volgin didn't begin to think that Ocelot was leading Raikov on in any way or that Raikov was falling for anyone else . . . neither Ocelot nor Raikov wanted to be near Volgin when he was angry. Raikov may have been the Colonel's boyfriend, but obviously Volgin kept his rage out of the bedroom or else Raikov would've been dead a long time ago.

The whiny, girly voice of his fellow Major clearly rang out in Ocelot's head. He shook it fiercely, trying to get rid of the memory, never wanting to meet him ever again. It was all he could do to try and remember whether or not Snake had murdered Raikov when stealing his uniform or merely knocked the Major out for a little while . . . Ocelot didn't recall ever hearing or seeing Raikov after Volgin's torture session with Snake, so he was going with the former.

"I wonder," said Jack, still staring off into nowhere, "how is that man . . . Major . . . Ivan. Ivan Raideno . . . something."

Ocelot felt as if he'd just ate one of those rations that had been provided during the food shortage. "Major Ivan Raidenovitch Raikov?" he said warily.

Big Boss nodded. "Yeah. That guy."

His worst fears were confirmed. The pansy who went around punching everyone, whether they deserved it or not, had indeed, not been killed by Ocelot's idol. "I, well, I'm not sure," responded Ocelot, now praying that Raikov had been killed by the nuclear fallout. "Why do you ask?"

"Just curious," was the reply.

John . . . is doing just a little too much thinking, Ocelot mused. Perhaps . . . yes.

"John," Big Boss turned his head to look at the Russian, "there's something we must discuss."

The American furrowed his brow, eyeing the Russian cautiously. He was suspicious . . . of something. Reminiscing wasn't the only thing he had been doing. A few moments passed before Jack said, "Of course, Major Ocelot."

Ocelot's face was, luckily, obscured from Jack's view by the angle at which Ocelot laid on the grass, or else Jack would have seen the slight blush that crept onto Ocelot's face. To be called "Major Ocelot" by his idol . . . an honor, an undeserved honor. "However," said the Ocelot commander, "this place," he gestured toward the building and then toward the below rubble of Groznyj Grad, "is not suitable for speaking of such matters."

"I see," answered Jack, furrowing his brow further, seeing how secretive the matter that Ocelot wished to discuss was.

"I suggest . . . that we," Ocelot hesitated, not wanting to suggest what he was going to suggest for fear that his idol may take it the wrong way, "go back to America and discuss the matter . . . at my home."

Something like a smile flitted across Snake's mouth for an instant, but was gone the next. Ocelot lived in America, not Russia as Snake had previously believed, thinking that Ocelot was double-crossing Krushchev and Colonel Volgin when Ocelot may have very well been triple-crossing . . . it was an interesting development.

A look of terror appeared on Ocelot's face. He was sitting up now and in full view of Snake. "You didn't . . . take that the wrong way, did you?" he questioned, more nervous than he ever had been before.

"The wrong way? What're you talking about?"

"Oh, never mind then." Quickly standing and looking the opposite way, Ocelot added, "My men have a helicopter waiting for me down in the ruins," —Jack glanced at Groznyj Grad— "No, not those ruins, the other ruins," the Major nodded in the direction of the shack, meaning the ruins where the underground tunnel to Groznyj Grad was located. "They have a helicopter waiting for me there. I suggest that you accompany me and we'll fly to the nearest airport, then get on a flight to New York . . . ."

So, Ocelot lives in New York, huh, thought Big Boss. I can't seem to imagine him walking around New York looking like he does, though.

"Sounds good to me, Adamska. Not like I had any other plans."

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END PROLOGUE
"An ocelot never lets his prey escape."
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