Solid Snake had finished getting ready to infiltrate, pulling elbow and knee pads from pockets on his customized Neoprene BDUs, and pulled out a plastic bag that was half eaten way, removing the contents and smiling to himself. After discarding his bag, he looked up toward the top, now beginning to view the ground level. Klaxon horns sounded off at the top, and Snake growled, thinking, I don't see why they don't just have guns pointed at me as I come it. It's so damn noisy.

The platform finished rising, and the horns died down, giving the FOX-HOUND commando a clear view of everything. In front of him was a chain wire fence, and beyond that was a room which Snake couldn't see the contents of, and a guard standing next to a wall. To the right of the guard was the main door, big, steel, and bolted shut. Only authorized personnel could pass through. Directly in front of the door was what Snake presumed to be a cargo truck. Good hiding spot, Snake thought quickly, his eyes moving back toward him. A huge heliport, with a large helicopter on it, blocked vision of most of the truck, which led to a metal container. The grunt stopped looking.

He had found his hiding spot.

Bolting from the elevator, the dark clad man moved quickly and quietly to the box, his soft rubber soled boots assisting in helping him move stealthily. Stopping behind the container, his seasoned eyes quickly scanned the area for sentries, finding none. Satisfied with his location, he took a knee and pressed two fingers to the Codec transmitter.

Campbell came up on the screen, his face still grim, stoic, serious. Snake looked down at the screen, his face uncovered in its entirety. "It's Snake," he informed the colonel, as if he needed to know. "I'm in front of the disposal facility."

Colonel Campbell took in Solid Snake's features. He was clean shaven now, the beginnings of his bear now eliminated. The blond hair had been dyed a dark brown, and now it was an inch thick, long enough to keep his head somewhat warm, but short enough that it was hard to grab a fistfull of it. Snake was ready to work, as demonstrated earlier.

"Excellent, Snake," the retired colonel praised. "Age hasn't slowed you down one bit."

Snake's face was haunted with the ghost of a smile, then was instantly exorcised. Naomi's beautiful face replaced Campbell's craggy one, a smile slightly still on her face. "How's the Sneaking Suit working out?" she inquired.

"I'm nice and dry," Snake stated, "but it's a little hard to move."

Pressure was being put on his torso, his legs and arm movements restricted, not abling Snake to do his 360ยง roundhouse kick he usually performed in hand to hand combat. Running was also restriced somewhat, but the commando figured he should stop complaining. It kept him from freezing to death,.

"Bear with it," she joked with him, then getting serious, she explained, "It's designed to prevent hypothermia. This is Alaska, y'know."

"Take it easy," the grunt assured the good doctor, "I'm grateful. If it weren't for your suit and your shot, I would have turned into a popsicle out there."

"An anti-freezing peptide, Snake," Hunter reminded Snake. "All of the Genome Soldiers in this exercise are using it."

A slight grin unmasked itself on Snake's experienced face. "I see. I'm relieved to hear that. Already tested huh?" The grin gone, he asked, "by the way, how's the diversionary operation going?"

Campbell's face filled the wrist screen again. "Two F-16s just took off from Galena, and are headed your way," he informed his soldier. "The terrorists' radar should have already picked them up."

The grunt peeked around the corner, a sudden noise gathering his attention. The lights on the helicopter were on, and two Genomes stood next to a blond man, wearing a trenchcoat. As he turned around, Snake spotted his face slightly. Liquid...he thought. Then, the commando got his first good look at the helicopter.

It was a Mi-24D, NATO designation Hind-D. It was a direct air support helicopter, equipped with a turreted mounted four barrel .50cal gatling machine gun, twelve 57mm rockets, six each to a launcher, and four AT-2C/SWATTER air to ground missiles. It was also used for transportation, and could carry eight soldiers. With a maximum speed of about 208 miles an hour, the Hind-D was a forced to be reckoned with.

Snake saw the chopper and said to the colonel, "A Hind-D? Colonel, what's a Russian gunship doing here?"

"I have no idea," Campbell replied as the rotors started up. Liquid started climbing in the cockpit as the colonel continued, "But it looks like our little diversion got their attention. Now's your best chance to slip in unnoticed!"

The Hind started to lift into the night sky, blowing snow and wind at the Genomes that had escorted him, forcing them to cover their eyes. Snake watched as the monster rose into the sky and flew over head, sending snow his way. The commando stood as the gunship flew off into the sky to meet its threat.

Taking a knee again, Campbell reminded Snake, "There are only eighteen hours left until their deadline. You've got to hurry!"

Snake was about to respond, when a young, healthy, beautiful voice voice exclaimed, "Wow...he must be crazy to fly a Hind in this kind of weather!"

The warrior's face darkened. The voice wasn't from the briefing. "Who's that?" he demanded.

The colonel grinned sheepishly at his soldier, saying, "Oh, sorry. I haven't introduced you two yet..." Then the retired Army colonel became serious again. "This is Mei Ling. She was assigned to us as our visual data processing specialist. She designed your Codec, as well as your Soliton radar system. Contact her if you have questions on either of them."

The picture changed, and a lovely looking girl, jet black hair, slightly bronzed skin, slanted brown eyes, and thin lips smiled childlishly at the grunt. She giggled like a school girl with a crush, and finally said, "Nice to meet you Snake. It's an honor to speak to a...a living legend as yourself..."

She expected him to say something back, but he just stared, taking in her every facial feature, burning it into his memory. It would be a good thing to remember when the times got bad. Mei Ling was a beautiful girl, although she acted a bit under her age.

Mei Ling looked over herself as if she had something bad on her face and asked, "What's wrong?"

The FOX-HOUND commando smiled. "Nothing," he assured her. "I just didn't expect a world class designer of military technology to be so..." He paused, looking for the right word. "...Cute."

The girl giggled again, then said, "You're just flattering me..."

"No, I'm serious," he reassured her. "Well, I know I won't be bored for the next eighteen hours..."

"C'mon," she laughed. "I can't believe I'm being hit on by the famous Solid Snake..." Her smiled lighted a bit. "But, I'm surprised. You're very frank for a trained killer."

"Looks like we both have a lot to learn about each other," Snake smiled.

"Yeah," Mei Ling, in her lightly accented English, conceded. "I look forward to learning about the man behind the legend...but first, let me explain about your Soliton radar system."

Snake, like a proper student, observed his radar wrist screen like a pupil would observe his textbook. The red dot with blue cone walked toward the blinking dot in the center, paused, then turned around and returned to his original starting place.

"The bright dot in the middle is you, Snake," Mei Ling explained. "The red dots are your enemies, and the blue cone shape represents their field of vision."

"How?" Snake wondered aloud.

"Nanomachines have programmed their vital stats already," Naomi Hunter explained. "Be careful, Snake. The Genome soldiers have highly developed senses of hearing and vision due to their gene therapy. Make sure you don't let them see you."

Colonel Campbell's voice came back on. "First," he ordered, "I want you to infiltrate the disposal site, and look for the DARPA Chief."

Naomi came back on. "The DARPA Chief was injected with the same GPS transmitting nanomachines as you."

Mei Ling. "He should appear on your radar as a green dot."

Campbell. "Get whatever information you can from him about the terrorists. If he's alive, that is..."

He should be, Snake thought. They need him for their demands. They wouldn't be stupid enough to kill him yet, would they? Who knows?

"Snake, your radar isn't affected by the weather," Mei Ling pointed out, "but if you're discovered by an enemy, you won't be able to use it."

"Yes," Campbell agreed. "It gets jammed easily, I'm afraid."

"Yes," Mei Ling continued. "It's all made from currently existing technology. You won't be able to use it in an area with strong harmonic resonance, so be careful."

"We'll be monitoring your movements by radar," the colonel announced, "so contact us by Codec anytime you want."

"Got it," Snake acknowledged, adding cynically, "I'll call if I'm feeling lonely."

Naomi came on, and looked slightly upset at Snake's dark sense of humor. "Seriously, Snake," she said, "we're here to back you up, so call if you need some information or advice."

Mei Ling came on again, and said, "I'm also in charge of your mission data. Contact me if you want me to record your current status. My frequency is 140.96. It's a dedicated frequency for saving data. Don't forget it." She winked at him, and the craggy face of the colonel reappeared.

"Remember," Campbell announced, "except for your binoculars, you're naked. You need to arm yourself with whatever weapons you can find."

"I remember," Snake growled. "First, I'm strip searched by Dr. Naomi here, then all my weapons are taken away. Imagine yourself put in that position." Not that one seven round magazine of 7.65mm for a PPK would do any good, Snake didn't at, for his benefit.

"Well," Naomi said in a sultry tone, "if make it back in one piece, maybe I'll let you do a strip search on me."

The thought of inspecting the slim body, feeling the full breasts, and having the slender legs wrapped around him was intriguing. Snake smiled at the thought. "I'll hold you to that, Doctor," he grinned. As an afterthought, he added, "By the way, sorry to disappoint you, but I did manage to smuggle out my smokes."

Her face instantly look as if a Kansas tornado had swept across it. "How did you do that?" she demanded.

"I have my ways," Snake said. In this case, his way was to take advantage of a star-struck petty officer who was a washout of the Basic Underwater Demolition/SEAL course, the pipeline for Naval Special Warfare. Said petty officer was so eager to impress the FOX-HOUND veteran that he snuck into the storage room where Snake's personal items were hidden, retrieved the pack of Moslems in a hard plastic case and a waterproof bag to protect them during insertion, and presented them to Snake shortly before the SDV launch. Snake had no intention of throwing the young man under the bus.

He just might have a career in SOF yet, Snake thought with a smirk.

Mei Ling popped back up, a cocked eyebrow displayed on her face. "Cigarettes? How are those going to help you?"

The commando gave the smile of explaining something one would never understand, and said gently, "You never know."

Back on task, Snake observed a hilltop. When surveying an area, get to higher ground. It wasn't much as hills go, but it was all he had. Running up to the hill, he removed his S23A7 binocs, turned them on, and peered through them, watching the front door as the scope transmitted the picture back to HQ.

"If you want to get in," Campbell stated, "there's the front door. It's the fastest way, but there's too much risk of being spotted by the enemy."

Zooming in on a sentry, Snake muttered, "I can't just knock on the door and ask them to let me in..." Naomi smiled at that comment, and Mei Ling giggled, Snake only realizing his humor a few seconds later, smiling to himself before returning to the task at hand. "Uhh...there's one sentry on the left, and one on the right." Zooming in more, he noted, "They're armed with five-five-sixers and pineapples."

Five-five-sixers referred to any assault rifle or submachine gun that was chambered in the 5.56mm caliber. It was a common round, used in many automatic weapons, but more people desired 7.62mm assault rifles, the old standard of NATO and the Soviet Union. Pineapples were fragmentation grenades, named after of their WWII predecessors. The guards' weaponry was top notch.

Putting his scope away, Snake ran across to the other side, just in front of the elevator. Pulling out the S23A7 again, he zoomed in to a dark hole behind a guard. "What about the air duct near the door?" Campbell suggested. Snake mentally ruled it out, since there was a guard in the way. Looking up, the colonel also implied, "There should also be a duct on the second floor."

The commando, having great eyes, checked once over, then twice, then three times. He saw two spotlights and a soldier pulling guard. "I can't see it from here," he complained.

Putting away his binoculars, he ran back to cover, taking a knee. "I'll let you decide the best COA," Colonel Campbell announced, meaning Course of Approach or Course of Action, as you like it. "I'm counting on you, Snake." With that, the connection was closed, and Snake sat down to smoke a Winston, to get his nicotine going.

Then, he would get the party started.

... ... ...

The two silver F-16 Fighting Falcon aircrafts sped along at a steady rate, about six hundred miles an hour, moving toward the objective. They were armed with four AIM-6 Sidewinder homing missiles and a 7.62mm Vulcan minigun, but other than that, were not very well armed. If the mission went well, they wouldn't have to fire a shot.

The mission, however, never went right.

The first Fighting Falcon began to get a signal on his screen. "Maverick to Rogue," he said into the radio. "Are you seeing what I'm seeing?"

"Yeah," the pilot nicknamed Rogue stated. "What the hell is is?"

"He'll be in ID range within thirty seconds," Maverick announced. "Jam his radar."

"Roger that," Rogue confirmed. "Radar jamming is on."

The two jets accelerated, hoping that it was just another US jet and they could turn around and go home. They assumed a fighting formation, and maintained their high speed. Twenty-five seconds later, the ID showed up on the jet's radar.

"A Hind-D?" Maverick said. "What the hell? Does this guy think he's good enough to take on two jets?"

"I have a feeling we're about to find out," Rogue said. "Weapons free, Cap?"

"Weapons free," Maverick announced, readying his Sidewinder missiles.

Quickly swerving around the Russian helicopter, Maverick dove toward the water, pulling up at the last second and turning around, getting Liquid's Hind in his sights. Hearing the loud electronic hum that came with missile lock on, Maverick flipped a cover and pressed a red button.

Inside the Hind, Liquid heard the missile lock on, and knew his radar was jammed. Smiling at the situation, the FOX-HOUND squad leader increased speed, flying directly toward the other jet that hadn't fired yet. "If they want a game," he said to himself, "they'll get one."

Rogue saw the beast speeding toward him, and prepared to fire. Pushing his finger on the button, he got no response. He tried thrice more, then screamed, "Maverick! My fucking weapons aren't working!"

Liquid Snake smiled as he flew the Hind just under the jet and rose again. Rogue screamed his final breath of air as the AIM-6 rammed into his Fighting Falcon, blowing him up, the inferno of the former jet rocketing to the ground to meet its graveyard in the Bering Sea.

Slowly turning the Hind around, Liquid screamed into the microphone he had installed into the chopper, "Eat this!"

Firing one of the AT-2C/SWATTER missiles, a blaze of fire erupted from the left side of the Hind, screaming toward Maverick. The F-16 tried diving again, to no avail. Turning and twisting all over the place, he hoped he could dodge the missile long enough for it to run out of fuel. He had no intentions of dying this night.

His intentions weren't met.

To enforce the issue, Liquid Snake fired a staccato of .50cal rounds from his Gatling gun, spraying all toward the American pilot. In order to dodge the lethal machine killers, Maverick turned the opposite way. That's when the missile hit him, blowing him up into tiny shreds, and ending the diversionary operation.

Satisfied with his work, Liquid accessed his codec. "Raven?"

"Yes, Boss?" came the reply from the other party, a deep, booming voice.

"Contact the Pentagon," he ordered. "Tell them I want to speak with Colonel Roy Campbell."

... ... ...

While his twin' was shooting down the F-16 fighter jets, Solid Snake hugged a wall. Directly behind him was the heliport, but crossing through there was not an option. Two spotlights constantly covered the heliport, leaving a seven second gap in the middle for anyone to cross. Snake was not interested in being caught when the only items he had were a medical kit, cigarettes, and the S23A7. He actually planned on bringing them back intact, so using them as weapons wasn't the best option.

If he had to use them as weapons, however, chances were he wasn't coming back.

The first sentry he had spotted a regular patrol pattern. He would come to a box that was about twenty yards from Snake, and thirty yards to the cliff that led to the Bering Sea, go to a staircase, stroll around another box next to a cargo truck, then come back again. Snake needed an opportunity to strike, and he needed one now.

The guard began to come back to the first box. Moving a bit to the left to avoid detection, the FOX-HOUND commando peered through his scope, concetrating on the NGSF sentry. It was as if he was sleepwalking, just moving automatically, like a machine. He stopped, looked around, deemed the area clear, sneezed, and returned to his patrol.

The sentinel kept on walking, oblivious to the fact that Death was stalking him, creeping up behind him, ready to claim his soul. Slowly, and softly, Snake sneaked his way to the guard. As he made his second checkpoint, Snake grabbed him by the neck, dragging him away toward the original box. After reaching that point, the FOX-HOUND commando violently shoved the NGSF soldier's head forward, making a loud crack severing the spinal cord and killing him quickly. Burying the soldier in the snow, not out of respect, but to keep from being detected, Snake moved on.

As the commando neared the stairs, he noticed something that he didn't see before while monitoring the sentry's path. It was about a foot long, and four inches wide, with a lens on the front base. Mounted on the wall seven feet above the stairs, it turned back and forth, watching for any intruders.

"A surviellance camera?" Snake growled, pissed that his enemies were getting one step ahead of him. Watching on his radar, he saw a red dot, except with a yellow cone. Sluggishly, it moved back and forth, watching for intruders. A flashback from FOX-HOUND basic training took place in Snake's mind.

"When coming up against a surviellance camera too high to take out," the calm, cool, reassuring voice of Master Sergeant McDonnell Miller, US Army, whom every trainee called Master, explained, "remember this: there is a blind spot underneath the camera. The key is to move under when its head is turned, and to move again when it is in the direction opposite the one you intend to move in."

Reusing that advice, Snake watched as the camera moved its head to the left. Taking advantage, Snake positioned himself directly underneath the security device. Paying close attention to his radar, the camera moved all the way to the right. As soon as that happened, he dashed up the first flight of stiars, slamming his back against the wall. Still paying attention to the radar, he noticed that a guard was directly above him, watching around. Snake breathed silently, willing the guard with all of his thought to not looked down. After looking, the sentry walked backward to the end of the second flight of stairs, took a peek, then kept on walking.

Moving quickly up the stairs, Snake sprinted down the walkway with the two spotlights. When he was within three feet of the guard, the FOX-HOUND commando leapt as high in the air as the suit would allow him, and struck the guard in the head with his foot. Just as quickly, he broke the sentry's jaw with a right hook, then picked him up and threw him over the balcony. That woke the guard up.

Damn, Snake thought, as he searched for the air duct to enter through. As he kept looking, the Codec rang in his ear. Hiding in one of the gaps in the walls, Snake took a knee and accepted the incoming radio traffic.

Colonel Campbell filled the wrist screen. "Snake," he said shakily, "you're not going to believe this, but they shot down the F-16s we were using as a diversion...with a Hind-D! Then we got a message from Liquid. He said if we try something like that again, he'll launch the nuke!"

Snake opened his mouth, when Campbell cut him off. "Snake, hurry up and get in there! That Hind will be coming back soon!" The connection was killed, and the FOX-HOUND command slammed his fist against the wall. He was about to get caught, if he wasn't already. That was not good.

A warm breeze gently tickled the back of Snake's neck, and he put his gloved hand to it. It was not natural...then the comando looked down. There was his air duct. At the cry of, "what the hell?!" Snake crawled in quickly. There was no need for him to be caught now.

He was now thirty-seven minutes underway.

Seventeen hours and twenty-three minutes left until doomsday.