Author's Note:

This is a novelization depicting the story of my all-time favourite games franchise 'Metal Gear'. For the duration of this title, I shall be sticking to the original source material as well as my own narrative choice throughout.
Like it, ignore it, that's your call. If you do like or read it – or both – make a review, quick or long, as it'll really help me out.

Thanks,
The Author


Copyright Disclaimer: I do not own any characters, environments or storylines from Metal Gear. All rights and privileges go to Konami Digital Entertainment, Inc. and Kojima Productions.


An cuimhin leat an grá
Crá croí an ghrá


CHAPTER ONE

Discovery


Alaska – Bering Sea

Ohio Class Nuclear Submarine Discovery

The cold, dark abyss of the open blue lay silent and dormant, undeterred by the lone submarine that swept along the undersea currents. Its engines humming, and its propeller spinning, it made its way swiftly – deeper into the endless depths of the Alaskan Sea.

On the Bridge of the Discovery, several crewmen moved around, shifting between management of the various computer systems and control consoles. Screens were lighten up all over, depicting various satellite imagery and sonar detection displays. The captain stood in the main area of the deck, arms folded, nodding every now and then to his attendant that pointed out several key points as they examined the sonar prints of the Alaskan Sea on a glass screen. Over the captain's shoulder, however, was a display that showed the most important imagery of all: something that resembled a small continent of some sort, surrounded by various smaller islands.

Down below, the crews had just lowered the small, capsule-shaped sub into the torpedo bay. Inside, the light glazed over, just as the bay doors shut and the topless capsule was in total darkness. Solid Snake, the man laid out across his front inside the capsule, lifted his head slightly and looked around the pitch black confines he was in. Facing forward, he breathed slowly into the oxygen mask over his mouth, and narrowed his eyes to see that the heads up display of his screen was still showing dark. All he could hear beyond the rubber material covering his head, and the band of the goggles shielding his eyes pressing against his ears, was the deep clang of the bay doors locking.

In that moment, he took a few minutes to process the most important details that the Colonel had over during the briefing. Even now, it still felt like his old, gruff voice was projecting right next to him.

"The nuclear weapons disposal facility on Shadow Moses Island, in Alaska's Fox Archipelago, was attacked and captured by Next-Generation Special Forces being led by members of FOXHOUND." He had said, "They're demanding that the government turn over the remains of Big Boss and they say that if their demands are not met within 24 hours, they'll launch a nuclear weapon."

That was the ground basics. As he felt himself jerk slightly to right, he realized that he was now stationary. Soon he would be off, and in that time, he processed the objectives that had been given to him.

"You'll have two mission objectives. First, you're to rescue DARPA Chief, Donald Anderson and the President of ArmsTech, Kenneth Baker. Both are being held as hostages.

"Secondly, you're to investigate whether or not the terrorists have the ability to make a nuclear strike…and stop them if they do."

Snake could hear, as well as feel, the vibration of the sliding door closing above him. Shortly, he would be in further darkness, and in that time, he recalled questioning the procedure on how the approach to the facility would be carried out.

"What's the insertion method?" He had asked.

"We'll approach the disposal facility by sub." The Colonel had answered.

"And then?"

"We'll launch a one-man SDV (swimmer delivery vehicle)."

As soon as the compartment door was sealed, a deep red light shone all around Snake, darkening him against the rest of the interior.

"After the SDV gets as close as it can, dispose of it." The Colonel had continued, "From there on you'll have to swim."

Hearing the door the outer door of the torpedo bay slide open, Snake slightly lowered his head. The heads up display blinked, indicating that his mission was a 'Go'. Suddenly, the young man felt himself being thrust at an alarming speed. The SDV he was in was shot from the submarine like an actual torpedo, and was rocketing through the currents at an incredible but silent speed.

Snake was shaken around slightly, but remained firm as the small vehicle began to steady and the heads up display of the outside camera lit up to show a narrow gorge in night vision mode. As he was making his approach, it occurred to him to recall the information that the Colonel had given him on the elite group that was heading the terrorist operation.

"High Tech Special Forces Unit, FOXHOUND." The Colonel had begun, "Your former unit…and one that I was a commander of."

"So they're still around…" Snake could remember the unsurprised tone in his voice at the time of the briefing…

"There are six members of FOXHOUND involved in this terrorist activity." The Colonel had said, and with each name, Snake had recalled none of them, "Psycho Mantis, with his powerful psychic abilities. Sniper Wolf, the beautiful and deadly sharpshooter. Decoy Octopus, master of disguise. Vulcan Raven, giant and shaman."

Snake paused on his recollection as he controlled the outer camera to survey the gorge. There were no signs of underwater security systems, only ice-cold rock rising everywhere. Coming to a slow stop, the roof of the SDV ejected, sending out a brief wheeze and the compartment was flooded. Now in freezing water, Snake lay still for just another moment. The material of his sneaking suit was the best in the works, and even though he could feel the cold, he was actually handling up much better than expected.

While he waited for the SDV to tilt itself backwards, he resumed his inner process of the unit the Colonel had been talking about.

"And Revolver Ocelot, specialist in interrogation and a formidable gunfighter. And finally, in charge of them... FOXHOUND's squad leader," Snake lifted his head as he remembered the name, the roof detached itself and the young man pushed himself backwards, "Liquid Snake."

"Liquid Snake?" Snake had responded, indeed shocked by the comparison of the name…

"The man with the same codename as you." The Colonel had enlightened him, giving him a full background of what they knew.

Returning to the task at hand, Snake let himself drift for just a few seconds before turning his gaze upwards and began to paddle his feet. While he did so, he returned his thoughts on the last few pieces of vital information that the Colonel had given him.

"The nuclear weapons disposal facility covers the whole island. I'll instruct you by Codec after you reach your target."

"Anyone going with me?"

"As usual, this is a one-man infiltration mission."

"Weapons and equipment OSP (on-site procurement)?"

"Yes."

Continuing to ascend, Snake began to manoeuvre his whole body, flexing his torso in and out while his legs repeated the same motion back and forth. From here on out, he was on his own, but that wasn't the most crucial detail.

"This is a top-secret black op." The Colonel had made note of, "Don't expect any official support."

The rundown being: if Snake was caught, captured, or killed, there would be no rescue. Back-up would be non-existent. All he had was radio contact with a support team, and the skills he had attained through years of training most of his life.

As he swam, he saw the dazzling light of the frozen glaciers above, approaching them, disappearing into the glistening blue…


Briefing

One Hour Ago…

Across from the bed where he was sitting – hunched and breathing calmly – the door let out a loud squeak that resounded across every wall of the enclosed room, and was followed by a firm clang as it closed behind the recent arrivals. From the sounds of the footsteps approaching, there were two of them; one mildly lighter than the other, and when they both stopped in front of him, there was brief, quiet pause. It wasn't until the gruff, familiar voice of an old acquaintance called out that Snake lifted his head to look at them.

"It's been a long time, Snake."

Dressed in nothing but boxer shorts, with messy brown-blonde hair hanging down too his neck and shoulders, Snake didn't have much choice but to respond bitterly.

"I should've known you were behind this, Colonel."

"That's no way to greet an old war buddy, Snake." The older man half smiled, expecting the gesture.

The Colonel, named Roy Campbell was a heavy built man, wearing his traditional dark-green uniform from the army and a beret on his head. Next to him was a young woman holding what looked like a plastic suit carrier in her left hand and a metal first aid box in her right. She was wearing what appeared to be a white lab coat and dark skirt. Even in the dull conditions, Snake could make out her elegant, back-length mahogany-brown hair and a greyish-black cardigan between the parted buttons of her lab coat.

"What do you want from me?" Snake asked directly.

"I just invited you here so we could have a talk." The Colonel returned to a more serious expression.

"Invited?!" Snake cocked his right eyebrow slightly, "That's what you call sending armed soldiers after me?"

"Sorry if they were a little rough with you." Campbell paused for a second, pacing slowly across the room, blocking out one of the mounted cameras for a moment as he passed by, "But we've got a serious situation here. Only you can get us out of it."

Snake watched the Colonel, frowning, unamused by being dragged into this cell with no clue as to which way was up.

"I'm retired from FOXHOUND. You're not my commander anymore and I don't have to take orders from you or anyone else."

The Colonel looked at him, straight in the eyes, and responded as his attendant moved to flank the younger man's right side.

"You will take these orders. I know it."

The woman had had entered with the Colonel set down the first aid kit on the bed.

"Excuse me…" she said, her voice a semi-English accent.

"Who's this?"

"Dr. Naomi Hunter." Campbell said, "She's chief of FOXHOUND's medical staff and an expert in gene therapy."

Snake watched her carefully. Noticing that she had produced a syringe from her kit and was applying a substance.

"Are you military?"

"No, civilian. I've been sent here from ATGC. Pleasure to meet you, Snake." She said kindly, before taking his right arm and aiming the needle down to the soft part of his elbow joint, "Don't worry, this injection won't hurt a bit."

Snake turned his head towards her, watching what she was doing with an unchanged expression.

"What's the shot for?"

"What's wrong? You don't like shots?" And like that, she pressed the needle into his skin, and that was it.

"Snake, listen up." The Colonel spoke, bringing up a display of a satellite capture on the monitor that had been set up nearby, "It all went down five hours ago. Heavily armed soldiers occupied Shadow Moses Island, a remote island off the coast of Alaska."

"What soldiers?" Snake asked, watching the screen as the Doctor withdrew the needle and began applying a piece of cotton to the injected area.

"Next-Generation Special Forces," The Colonel continued, "led by members of Unit FOXHOUND. They've presented Washington with a single demand and they say that if it isn't met, they'll launch a nuclear weapon."

"A nuclear weapon?" Snake frowned.

"I'm afraid so. You see, the island is the site of a secret nuclear weapons disposal facility."

"FOXHOUND hijacking a nuclear weapon?!"

Campbell looked back to Snake, Doctor Hunter having finished applying the injection and gathering her equipment. Snake was stunned. True, FOXHOUND tended to take matters into its own hands when it came down to serious business. But overthrowing bases, claiming nuclear potential… It still didn't make sense, but he continued to listen anyway.

"Now you understand how serious the situation is." The Colonel placed both hands behind his back, gradually drifting around the room, "You'll have two mission objectives. First you're to rescue the DARPA Chief, Donald Anderson and the president of ArmsTech, Kenneth Baker. They're both being held as hostages."

Snake watched as the Colonel came to a slow stop near the door.

"Those are some heavy duty hostages."

"Secondly," The Colonel resumed, "you're to investigate whether or not the terrorists have the ability to launch a nuclear strike and stop them if they do." He turned his focus to the young man on the bed, "Any questions, Snake?"

"Questions? I haven't even said whether I'd accept this mission."

"Well, you can make up your mind after you hear more about the situation."

Talk about pressure. Although Snake was calm and forward thinking, it was difficult to digest all of this information without having gone through the usual procedures. He had just been attending to his dogs up in the quiet wilderness of the mountains, when suddenly, he was doors down, ceiling in, surrounded by aimed barrels before being knocked out by one heavy blow to the neck. Regardless, Snake looked back at the Colonel, who now stood near the monitor, arms folded.

"Tell me about the nuclear weapon disposal facility."

"The disposal facility includes a hardened underground base. Even with our most advanced intelligence gathering equipment we can't tell what's happening inside."

"So someone needs to penetrate, gather intelligence and report back." Snake cocked his right eyebrow briefly, "Sounds like a spy movie… What's the insertion method?"

"Well an air insertion is impossible."

"Not with this storm going on."

"We'll approach the disposal facility by sub."

"Approach?"

"Yes, within a few miles of it." Campbell enlightened him, "The facility is equipped with sonar detection capabilities. They'd be able to hear our engine or propeller noise."

"And then?"

"We'll launch a one-man SDV (swimmer delivery vehicle)."

"Launch?" Snake asked curiously.

"Same as a torpedo. Only this has no propulsion device of its own." Campbell informed, "After the SDV gets as close as it can, dispose of it. From there on you'll have to swim."

Snake eyed the older male as if he was expecting a casual agreement from him.

"You want me to swim in sub-zero Alaskan water?"

"Don't worry." The Colonel gestured his vision toward the suit carrier that the Doctor had laid down, "That suit represents the latest advances in poly-thermal technology."

Snake turned his head to look at the plastic bag. It certainly looked strongly built, even in this light.

"The nuclear weapons disposal facility covers the whole island." Campbell resumed, "I'll instruct you by Codec after you reach your target."

"Anyone going with me?" Snake returned his focus on the Colonel again.

"As usual, this is a one-man infiltration mission."

"Weapons and equipment OSP (on-site procurement)?"

"Yes. This is a top-secret black op." The older man eyed him, "Don't expect any official support."

So I'm on my own then, was all Snake could honestly think. But then, it wasn't uncommon to him. He had done this sort of thing plenty times before. His eyes drifted to the cool floor beneath him. This wasn't just some assignment that involved the Colonel by chance, nor was it unsuspicious that he himself had been brought here, on this sub, which was currently making its way to their destination regardless of what they did.

Lifting his eyes slowly, Snake let out a brief sigh. His eyes turned to the monitor which displayed two ID photos of the hostages that Campbell had listed.

"The chief of DARPA and the president of an arms manufacturing company…" he looked back at Campbell, "What business did they have at a nuclear weapons disposal facility?"

The Colonel looked at the monitor before looking back to answer Snake.

"…The truth is that secret exercises were being conducted at the time the terrorist group attacked."

"Must be extremely important exercises if those two were directly involved. Were they testing some kind of new advanced weapon?"

"I'm not privy to that information." The Colonel answered.

"Do we know exactly where they're being held?"

There was a momentary pause, until Doctor Hunter caught his attention.

"The DARPA Chief has also been injected with a mini-transmitter." She informed him, "As you get closer, you should be able to pick up his location on your radar."

Well, despite the circumstances, at least one of them would be relatively simple to find. What drew Snake's attention next was the concern of the capabilities that the terrorists currently possessed.

"Do they really have the ability to launch a nuclear missile?"

"They say they do." Campbell said, "They even gave us the serial number of the warhead they plan to use."

"Was the number confirmed?"

"I'm afraid so." The Colonel sighed, "At the very least, they've got their hands on a real on a real nuclear warhead."

Snake narrowed his eyes.

"Isn't there some kind of safety device to prevent this type of terrorism?"

"Yes, every missile and warhead in our arsenal is equipped with a PAL which uses a discrete detonation code."

"PAL?" Snake asked.

"'Permissive Action Link'." Campbell responded, "The safety control system built into all nuclear weapons systems." His eyes lowered slightly, "But even so, we can't rest easy."

"Why not?"

The Colonel's eyes came to meet the younger man's straight on.

"Because the DARPA Chief knows the detonation code."

Snake looked directly back into Campbell's eyes, unhindered by this fact.

"But even if they have a nuclear warhead, it must have been removed from its missile. All the missiles on these disposal sites are supposed to be dismantled. It's not that easy to get your hands on an ICBM."

"That used to be true, but since the end of the Cold War, you can anything if you have enough money and the right connections."

Standing half-corrected, Snake then changed his mind onto what was perhaps the most important topic of this briefing.

"So, what exactly are they demanding?"

The Colonel sighed once more, pausing briefly before looking him in the eye again.

"A person's remains."

"Remains?"

"That's right. To be more accurate, cell specimens, which contain the individual's genomic information."

"Cell specimens?" Snake looked partially confused, "Why would they want that?"

"The terrorists need them. You see, these Next-Generation Special Forces have been strengthened through gene therapy."

"Strengthened?"

"You've heard of the Human Genome Project." Campbell told him, "They've been mapping the human genome and they're nearly finished." He took a moment to glance at the screen before continuing his insight, "Following up on this research, the military has been working towards identifying those genes which are responsible for making effective soldiers."

"There are genes that do that?" Snake seemed positively bewildered for a second.

"Yes. And using gene therapy, they're able to transplant those genes into regular soldiers."

"Gene therapy?"

"I'll explain this part." Naomi voiced, attracting Snake's attention, "With gene therapy, we can remove those genes which we know may lead to sickness or disease, and at the same time, splice in genes with beneficial effects, such as resistance to cancer for example."

"In other words," The Colonel spoke, "we can overcome all sorts of genetic diseases, and at the same time, add genetic characteristics as desired.

"O.K." Snake said firmly, eyeing the Doctor again "And so, if you knew what genes were responsible for making the perfect solider, you could implant them in the same way, right?"

"Yes…we could." She responded.

"But, it all depends on being able to isolate and identify those "soldier genes"." Campbell added.

"And, in order to do that," Naomi looked Snake in the eye, "it's helpful if you can study the genomic information of one of the greatest soldiers ever."

Silence followed. Snake blinked once in the Doctor's direction. He wasn't quite sure what she meant by the term she had used.

"One of the greatest soldiers ever?"

"The man they called the Greatest Warrior of the 20th Century…" She revealed.

The Colonel looked at her, his expression blank, and Snake in his seated position mildly turned his body to face her as his own frown slowly turned to shock.

"You don't mean Big Boss?!"

"That's right." Naomi told him, "We've been working feverishly to identify the genes responsible for his incredible combat skill. So far, we've discovered about 60 of the so-called "soldier genes"."

Snake turned his body forwards again, eyes falling to the floor for a moment…

"So, his body was recovered after all." He looked up at the Colonel.

"Yes," The older man explained, "and his cells have remained frozen in a cryo-chamber. His genomic information is a priceless treasure to mankind."

"Priceless to the military perhaps." Snake said honestly.

"His body was burned severely, but it was possible to restore his DNA profile from just a single strand of his hair." The Doctor voiced.

"You people are amazing." Snake told her, "And then, you're gonna transplant those genes into soldiers?"

"Yes, we'll use a process that I discovered called gene targeting. The strongest soldiers don't become what they are by acquiring their skills through training or experience. We now know that hereditary factors are far more crucial for creating superior soldiers."

The Colonel unfolded his arms once she had spoken, catching the seated man's attention again as he took a single step forward.

"Snake, we can't give them his body." He said with a firm, solid tone, "It's potentially more dangerous than all the nuclear warheads on that island put together."

Naomi lowered her gaze to the side of Snake's bed, hands gently pressed on the edge of the table she was leaning on.

"I hear the terrorists are calling themselves "The Sons of Big Boss"."

""The Sons of Big Boss"." Snake said, eyes also lowered for a second as he digested the information.

With this most recent intel, he was beginning to ponder the coincidence of being dragged into this mission. He had once had a loyal history with Big Boss, serving under him, but all that was a thing of the past. Levelling his eyes back to the Colonel, Snake sighed slightly.

"What's the time limit?"

"24 hours." Campbell told him, refolding his arms, "They say they'll launch after 24 hours."

"Do they say what the target will be?"

"So far they haven't mentioned the target."

"When did the countdown start?"

"5 hours ago."

A few minutes passed, and while he thought deeply on the information up until now, Snake gladly accepted the offer of a cigarette from Campbell. Taking a step back after he lit it for the younger man, Campbell noticed briefly the slight urge that Doctor Hunter expressed to snatch the cig straight from Snake's mouth, but she let him be.

Planting his left palm on his knee, the young man inhaled a few breaths before lowering the affect and blew out a light stream of smoke.

"Colonel, who are you speaking for?"

"Naturally I'm representing the U.S. Government."

"So who's in supervisory control of this operation?" Snake returned the cig to his mouth before lowering it to his knee as he hunched forward slightly.

"…The President of the United States."

"Which means that the President must be meeting with his top aides in the Map Room about now, huh?"

"No, at this point they're still video conferencing with each other."

"If that's a real nuclear warhead, shouldn't they issue a COG?"

"Not yet." Campbell assured him, "The Secretary of Defence has operation control and is fully aware of the situation." He watched as Snake put the cig back to his mouth, taking a few more breaths of smoke, "After you infiltrate, if you determine they possess nuclear launch capabilities, a COG will be issued."

"Well if they haven't relocated to the nuclear shelter under Mount Washington, I suppose there isn't that much reason to worry yet. Is the National Security Agency in on this?" he lowered his hand with the cig back to his knee.

"Yes and so is the DIA, the Defence Intelligence Agency."

"The DIA? I'm starting to get a bad feeling about this." Snake admitted.

"They'll be sending us some support."

"We don't need desk jockies. We need a nuclear weapons specialist."

"Of course. A nuclear weapons specialist has already been assigned to us."

The Colonel turned towards the projection monitor and cycled through a couple of lists with the remote he was holding. As he did so, Snake noticed all of the names of what appeared to be the crewman manning the Discovery, which they were obviously on. None of these helped, but he knew that the Colonel was getting to something.

"We need backup from a specialist. I'm just an amateur when it comes to nuclear weapons." He returned his cig to his mouth once again, just as the Colonel lowered the remote an ID photo and a stream of information brightened the screen.

"I know. That's why I've requested the assistance of a military analyst named Nastasha Romanenko." The Colonel looked back at the younger man, "She'll be providing you backup by Codec."

As the categories of her credentials flickered across the left side of the screen, Snake couldn't help but ask despite the impressiveness of what he was reading.

"A female analyst?"

"She's built up an impressive record as an advisor for the Nuclear Emergency Search Team. Contact her if you have any questions. She's also an expert on hi-tech weapons."

"Where's she working from?"

"At her home in Los Angeles."

"California…" Snake looked back at the Colonel, "Seems like a million miles away…"

Campbell looked down at the bed and then drifted off the side. He couldn't agree more, but there was a job to do and it involved both of them. Snake took one final exhale of smoke before breathing it out and feeling it slip from between his fingers. He looked up to find that Naomi was now holding it, having confiscated it for the time being due to the recent injection in his system. Luckily, there was an ashtray nearby, and she turned to extinguished it quickly, although Snake didn't particularly bother too much.

Briefly swiping his eyes by her bottom before she turned around to lean against the table again, Snake let both his forearms hang over his knees as he looked at Campbell.

"How well armed are these terrorists?" He began, "I know there was an exercise going on at the time they revolted."

"They're heavily armed, I'm afraid."

"What about their battle experience?"

"The six members of FOXHOUND in charge are all hardened veterans. They're tough enough to eat nails and ask for seconds."

"I wouldn't expect anything less from FOXHOUND." Snake said, knowing from personal experience from his past time in the unit.

"The others are Next-Generation Special Forces. They're not your average grunts, either."

Snake eyed the monitor again, showing the information and lists of the terrorist group that the Colonel had brought up.

"Tell me about these Next-Generation Special Forces." He said, looking at Campbell.

"They started out as an anti-terrorist special-ops unit made up of former members of biochem units, technical escort units and the Nuclear Emergency Search Team. Their purpose was to respond to threats involving next-generation weapons of mass destruction, including NBC weapons."

"Until "they" were added, that is." Naomi said, catching Snake's attention.

"Who's "they"?"

"These guys didn't start out as regular army." Campbell voiced, gesturing to the screen.

Snake turned his head to look at a couple of photographs that had been taken of the units.

"Looks like a pretty international group. Mercenaries?"

"Yeah, and it gets worse." The Colonel told him honestly, giving the screen a mild glance, "Most of them were from a merc agency that I think you're familiar with. They were part of Big Boss' private guard. And after Big Boss went down, the military just bought out all their contracts."

"Outer Heaven…" Snake said solemnly.

"After that, they were merged with our own VR Unit, "Force 21", and retrained." The Colonel continued, "If you ask me, these so-called "Next-Generation Special Forces" should be called "simulated soldiers". They have no real battle experience."

"Video game players, huh?"

Naomi stepped away from the table and folded her arms, leaning to her right.

"Don't forget they've all been strengthened with gene therapy. They carry genes which make them excellent soldiers. Don't get careless just because they don't have much experience."

Snake gave her a confused look.

"I thought using genetically modified soldiers was prohibited by international law."

"Yes, but those are just declarations, not actual treaties." She informed him.

"The interesting thing is that nearly every member of the unit conspired in this attack." Campbell told him.

Snake frowned, blinking as he found the information a little puzzling.

"How could an entire unit be subverted to rebellion?"

"They're calling it a revolution." Naomi said.

"Since they all went through the same gene therapy," The Colonel added, "they probably felt closer than brothers. They see the unit as their only family."

"The Sons of Big Boss…" Snake said, recalling what the Doctor had told him, "but if they were regular army they must have been interviewed periodically by army councilors…"

"According to their files, they all got straight A's on their psychological tests. They all seemed like fine, upstanding, patriotic soldiers." The Colonel folded his arms.

"But they all took part in the uprising?"

"No. Several people didn't show up on the day of the exercise. That's why there was a resupply of troops."

"Was there any sign recently that something might be wrong?"

"There was a report a month ago that they were acting strangely."

"Apparently," Naomi approached, "they consulted classified information about the soldier genes and performed their own gene therapy experiments."

"They can do that even without you?" Snake cocked an eyebrow.

"Well, our gene therapy process is almost completely automated. And besides that, they're all geniuses with IQs over 180."

The Colonel began to pace briefly before the monitor.

"Even the existence of this genome army is a national secret of the highest order. We had been hoping to investigate this thing quietly and deal with it behind closed doors."

With a following silence that covered the room, it was evident that this was all there was to say about the soldiers who had invaded the island. As Naomi leant back against the table, Campbell began cycling through another list on the screen, and brought up the document containing a description and info on the leaders of the terrorist squad.

"High Tech Special Forces Unit FOXHOUND." The Colonel began, "Your former unit…and one that I was a commander of." He looked back at Snake, who was watching him, "An elite group combining firepower and expertise. They're every bit as good as when I was commanding them."

"So they're still around…" Snake said, looking to the screen as Campbell brought up a blurred but enlightening photo of what appeared to be the group themselves.

"There are six members of FOXHOUND involved in this terrorist activity." The Colonel began flicking through each ID that they had acquired as he sounded off each member's name, "Psycho Mantis, with his powerful psychic abilities. Sniper Wolf, the beautiful and deadly sharpshooter. Decoy Octopus, master of disguise. Vulcan Raven, giant and shaman. And Revolver Ocelot, specialist in interrogation and a formidable gunfighter."

As the Colonel recited each member, by this point, Snake thought they all sounded like a bunch of cartoon characters; each one with a special power and able to perform ground-breaking techniques.

"Sounds like a lovely bunch of folks." He said half-wittedly, "Too bad we'll be meeting under these circumstances…"

"And finally, in charge of them…" Campbell looked back to Snake, eyeing him straight, "FOXHOUND's squad leader, Liquid Snake."

The younger man froze, looking at the Colonel as though he'd just said something that was quite literally out of this world.

"Liquid Snake?"

"Yes." Campbell said, "And you're the only person who can stand against him."

Snake never said anything, just stared at the Colonel. The older man exchanged a brief glance with Naomi, who also said nothing, and returned his gaze to the man on the bed.

"Liquid Snake?" Snake said again, just to clarify.

"Liquid Snake." Campbell assured him, "The man with the same codename as you."

It was very frankly, bizarre. The reason why he felt so shocked by this revelation was that nobody of any unit had been given a repeat codename, not even when they left, died, or even turned traitor. No name was ever replaced to someone else. The only difference was that Snake's codename started with "Solid", and ended with his standard title which most people tended to call him by.

"Tell me what you know." He told Campbell, eyes locked on him as the Colonel began to explain.

"He fought in the Gulf War as a teenager, the youngest person in the SAS. His job was to track down and destroy mobile SCUD missile launching platforms… You were there too, I believe." He pointed out, "Didn't you infiltrate western Iraq with a platoon of Green Berets?"

"I was just a kid myself back then."

"The details are classified but it seems that originally he penetrated the Middle East as a sleeper for the SIS."

"He was a spy for the British Secret Intelligence Service?"

"But he never once showed his face in Century House. He was taken prisoner in Iraq and after that there was no trace of him for several years. After you retired, he was rescued and became a member of FOXHOUND."

"I thought that by the time I left they were no longer using codenames." Snake frowned slightly.

"I don't know his real name." Campbell admitted, "That information is so highly classified that even I can't look at it." He then reached into his inner pocket and produced what seemed to be the one and only record of a photograph that he was instructed to bring along to this briefing, "Here's a photo of him."

Snake reached out as Campbell handed it too him. Bringing it into the light, the young man narrowed his eyes before they went involuntarily wide for just second, and to the Colonel who had known for years previously, had never happened before.

"Pretty shocking, huh?" Campbell said, just as Snake's eyes calmed once more, taking in the image of the person he was looking at, "His skin tone is different, but otherwise you two are exact duplicates."

Snake looked up at the Colonel, the photo still between his fingers and bluntly voiced out.

"I have a twin?"

"I don't know the details, but it seems so." He sighed, placing his hand on his hips "That's why we really need you for this mission."

"You're the only one who can beat him." Naomi said, "Now that I've met you, I know." She watched him as he looked down at the floor and trailed his gaze up to meet her own, "You've got something that he doesn't. I can see it in your eyes."

Snake just stared at her, clearly unconcerned with what anyone thought…

"Why don't I find that thought more comforting?"

She didn't answer, simply leant her backside against the table and looked across at the plastic carrier she had brought in with them. As Snake handed the photo slowly back to the Colonel, he couldn't help but watch him every second of the way; how he put the photo back in his inner pocket, and then his hands fell to slide into the side pockets of his uniform before he slowly paced to the left. There was something gloomy about his expression…

"Colonel, you're retired." He said, eyes following Campbell around, "Why are you involved in this?"

"Because there aren't many people who know FOXHOUND as well as I do." He stopped briefly.

"Is that really the only reason?"

"I've been soldiering a long time." Campbell responded, pacing a few more steps to the left, "I don't know anything else. I guess even though I'm getting a little old, I still love to be in the field." He turned his eyes back to the wall and paced to the right.

"Colonel," Snake began, seeing the hidden discomfort in his tone, "you're a lousy liar. Tell me the real reason."

It took a second, but in the end, Campbell sighed and looked down as he stopped. He knew it wouldn't stay dark long, but Snake was a perceptive one.

"Okay, Snake. Sorry." He lifted his right hand and brushed his finger a few times under his nose before turning to face the young man, "I'll be frank." He returned his right hand to his side and leaned back slightly on the table nearest the door and monitor, "A person very dear to me is being held hostage."

"Who is it?" Snake said almost immediately as Naomi raised her fingers to her mouth and went momentarily wide-eyed, stunned by the Colonel's predicament.

"My niece, Meryl."

Snake frowned, seeing that the Colonel was pretty shaken up over this.

"What was your niece doing here?"

The Colonel looked up at him.

"Several soldiers were reported missing the day of revolt, and my niece was one of those called in as an emergency replacement."

Reaching into his outer breast pocket, the Colonel flashed an ID photo of his eighteen year old niece to Snake. Feeling it unnecessary to take it, Snake just glanced at it for a few seconds before looking back at Campbell.

"She looks like you."

"She's my little brother's girl." He said, turning the photo around to look at it himself, "He died in the Gulf War, and since then I've been watching after her."

"A personal motive, Colonel…that's not very soldierly." Snake told him.

"I'm retired." Campbell looked back at him, returning the photo to his pocket, "I'm just an old man now…and I'm your friend."

Snake watched him closely before replying.

"Since when are we friends?"

"I've thought of us as friends since the fall of Zanzibar." He gave the other man a half-smile.

"With my personality, I don't have too many friends." Snake said honestly.

"That's what I trust about you." Campbell responded in kind, "It's what makes you human. Please, Snake!" He stepped away from the table, "Save my niece, Meryl!"

From the very beginning, Snake had been in denial about accepting the mission, and then his curiosity had grown with each piece of information; the hostages, the genetic experiments, the nuclear threat, and the sudden revelation that he was a twin. But now, now he could tell that the Colonel wasn't entirely here by choice… And despite the fact that he never regarded himself as having any friends; Campbell was a rare exception, and he knew when he was telling the truth.

"All right." Snake said finally, "But I have two conditions."

"Name them." The Colonel said firmly.

"One, no more secrets between us. I want complete disclosure at all times. And two, I'll only accept orders directly from you, Colonel. No cut-offs involved, okay?"

"Agreed." Campbell said, "That's why I was called. But one thing…"

"What?"

The older man folded his arms and looked to the floor and back at Snake.

"I'm not a Colonel anymore, just a retired old warhorse."

"I understand…" Snake told him, "Colonel." And he gave the older man a brief half-smile, which the latter nodded to slightly.

There wasn't much to cover now, and twenty minutes had passed. Feeling it necessary while there was still time, Snake gestured to Naomi.

"That doctor. Is she part of this operation too?"

"She was in charge of FOXHOUND's gene therapy." Campbell raised his arm out to Naomi, who stepped forward a few paces, "She knows more about those men than anyone else."

Snake looked at her as the Colonel stepped back to give her room.

"You mean you've seen them naked?" He briefly cocked his eyebrow again.

"Make no mistake." She replied, tilting her head slightly, "I'm not a nurse. I am a scientist."

"By the way, what was that injection for?"

"It's a combination of nanomachines and an anti-freezing peptide so that your blood and other bodily fluids don't freeze, even at sub-arctic temperatures…"

"Nanomachines?"

"Not just one kind either. There are different types which will replenish the supply of adrenaline, nutrition and sugar in your bloodstream."

"Now I don't have to worry about food."

"I also put some nootropics in there."

"Say what?" Snake frowned in confusion.

"Nootropics. A class of drugs which will help improve your mental functioning."

"It'll make me smarter, huh? Anything else?"

"Yes, Benzedrine. It's a type of stimulant. It'll keep you alert and responsive for twelve straight hours."

"That was quite a cocktail." He said, quite impressed, "Anything else in there?"

"Those nanomachines will also keep your codec's batteries charged up."

"I guess I can call you when I'm ready to go on a diet."

"You're welcome." She smiled softly, bending forwards a little as she spoke.

Shaking his head with a slight grin on his face, Campbell turned his attention towards the monitor and began examining a few short lists while Naomi watched as Snake rose from his seated position. Taking a moment, he looked to the table where her kit was and recalled he had seen something when glancing inside.

"I need to borrow your scissors." He said, wandering over and retrieving them from the kit and turned his eyes on the mirror that was standing up next to the small basin.

"What are you going to do?" She asked, puzzled.

"Don't worry." He said as he began snipping at back and sides of his messy hair, "Just gonna clean myself up a little."

"Huh?" She watched him from behind as bit of hair fell to the floor around his bare feet.

"I don't want to be mistaken for the leader of the terrorists."

With one final snip, Snake lowered the scissors, just as Campbell and Naomi both turned their eyes too him.