"Can you talk?" Solid Snake asked as he helped Kenneth Baker up from the ground. Snake was surprised that Baker even lived to survive the explosion of eight blocks of C4, each over a hundred times more powerful than dynamite.

"Who are you?" Baker asked, answering Snake's question.

"I'm not one of them," Snake replied, deflecting Baker's question, starting to walk with Baker to the wall. "The DARPA Chief told me he gave them his detonation code. What about yours?"

Comprehension dawned on Baker's face. "Oh, I get it! Jim sent you! You- you're from the Pentagon!"

"Answer my question!" Snake snarled. "What about your code? There's no time!"

The comprehension fell, as did the ArmsTech President's face.

"I...talked."

"What?!" the FOX-HOUND commando exclaimed. "Now the terrorists have both codes and can launch anytime!"

"It's not like I didn't fight!" Baker defended himself weakly. "I managed to resist Psycho Mantis' mind probe!"

This made Snake shut up and listen. "He couldn't read you?" he asked incredulously. "How did you do it?"

The old man smiled wryly. "Surgical implants in my brain," he stated, as if that explained it all.

"Surgical implants?" Solid Snake asked, a perplexed look on his face.

"Kind of like a psychic insulation," Baker offered. "Everyone who knows these top-secret codes has it."

"Even the DARPA Chief?"

"Of course."

Something didn't sound right with this new intelligence. "But the DARPA Chief said Mantis got his code by reading his mind," Snake pointed out.

ArmsTech screwed up his face. "Are you sure you heard him right?" Who in the hell do you think you're talking to, old man? I've had bullets fly past my damned head for years on end, and I hear a hell of a lot better than you do.

"Yeah, I'm sure," Snake replied off-handedly, with the wave of his hand. "In that case, how did they get your code?"

Baker groaned. "I never had any training on how to resist torture." To punctuate the intelligence, ArmsTech wheezed, doubling over, looking as if he was going to cough his bowels from his mouth.

Spreading his arms in explanation, he admitted, "It looks like he had some fun with you, all right."

"Ohhh...he's not human," Baker said, a fear creeping into his brown, elderly eyes. "I tell you, he loved every second of it."

"What happened to your arm?" Snake asked, pointing to the one inside of the large brown trenchcoat.

"He broke it."

Snake smiled grimly. "Looks like you're more than even now. His was sliced off."

"Ha!" Baker smiled. "You're a funny man." His face changed to one of concern. "So...the DARPA Chief...is he okay?"

"Dead," Snake stated simply.

ArmsTech's countenance morphed into one of utter shock. "What?!" he stuttered. "That can't be." Baker then became very angry and began swinging his stick, connecting with Snake's leg. "YOU KNOW, THAT'S NOT WHAT YOU PROMISED JIM!" he shrieked. "NOW YOU WANNA SHUT ME UP?!"

The pounding against his leg was starting to annoy the FOX-HOUND operative, and he was starting to worry that the noise of the old man ranting on would attract another reaction team, something that he didn't need at the moment.

"Calm down!" Snake growled, putting his face within inches of Baker's to add to the intimidation effect. "What's wrong with you? I just told you I was here to save you!"

Baker whined a bit, and then Snake released him. "I didn't kill the DARPA Chief," he said by way of explanation. "He had a heart attack or something."

"A heart attack?" Baker asked, surprised. The DARPA Chief seemed quite too young and in too well of shape to be killed like that. "Oh, don't be a fool."

"Anyway, the terrorists have both codes now."

"Those boys are totally insane," Baker stammered. "They wouldn't hesitate to launch!"

"I agree. But what do they really want?"

"Ah, who knows? Maybe they're like us in the arms industry: always looking forward to the next good war."

That was part of the reason why Snake despised the arms industry. "Well, I'm not gonna let these maniacs start a war today. Do you still have the card keys?"

"Card keys?" Baker asked, confused.

"To override the detonation code!" Snake explained impatiently. "I heard you had them."

"No." Baker sighed. "Not anymore."

Snake had been facing the wall, but when he heard this, he turned around quickly, his face full of venom. "What?! Who does then?! Not the terrorists?!"

"No," Baker said. "That woman."

"Woman? Who?" "A soldier who was locked up in prison along with me," Baker explained.

"A female soldier," Snake murmured. "It must be..."

"She said she just joined up as a new recruit. They threw her in prison, 'cause she refused to take part in the rebellion."

"A new recruit?" Snake thought aloud. "Could that be the Colonel's niece?"

"I gave her the key," Baker added. "Looks like she managed to break out of there, though. I hope she's okay."

"I'm sure she is," Snake assured ArmsTech. "She's green...but as tough as they come. But tell me, how did you know she escaped?"

"I was in contact with her by Codec," Baker said. "Until I was tied up here, that is."

"Codec?" Snake asked.

"Yes," Baker replied. "She stole it from the guard. If she still has it, you should be able to contact her."

"I'm sure she still has it," Snake assured Baker. "What frequency was she at?"

"Oh, yeah," Baker said. "Let me tell you. It's...uhhh..." There was a moment of silence, and then Baker's voice came back timidly and sheepishly. "Oh, sorry. I forgot."

Snake pounded his fist against his kneepad. "Damn!" this mission was not going smoothly whatsoever, due to an overabundance of Murphy.

A look recognition dawned again. "Oh, that's right! She said she wrote it inside of a box in the armory, just in case a good guy should show up. It's hidden inside a room with pistol ammunition. Try and contact her!"

"I'll contact her right away," Snake assured Baker. "But tell me, if this doesn't work, is there any other way to prevent the missile launch?"

Baker hummed thoughtfully. "You need to find Hal Emmerich, one of my employees."

"Who's that?" Snake snapped suspiciously.

"The team leader of the Metal Gear REX project!" Baker replied, pointing his cane at Snake. "A genius in engineering...but a little bit of an oddball. If there's anyone who can stop Metal Gear from launching, it's him."

"What if he can't come up with anything?"

"You'll have to destroy it. Emmerich knows how to destroy Metal Gear."

"Where is this Emmerich?" Snake asked.

"Well, he's probably being held in the Nuclear Warhead Storage Building. It's north from here. That's where he worked."

"I understand," Snake said slowly, "but...why Metal Gear? The nuclear age ended with the turn of the millennium."

"Oh, you're wrong," Baker responded solemnly. "The threat of nuclear war isn't gone. In fact, it's greater than it's ever been. The amount of spent nuclear fuel and plutonium is increasing even today! Listen, have you ever been in a warehouse full of nuclear material?"

"No," Snake admitted.

"Drums and drums of nuclear waste stacked this high-" he gestured with his cane "-as far as you can see! There's no real way to dispose of the stuff."

"So, they just close the lid and pretend like it will go away?"

"Essentially, yes. And they're not even doing a good job of storing it. Many of the drums are corroded, with nuclear waste seeping out of them."

Snake put on a disgusted face. "Unbelievable!"

"Not only that, but several pounds of MUF are reported every year."

"MUF?"

"It stands for 'Material Unaccounted For.' It just goes to show that there is a large and well-organized black market in nuclear materials. Furthermore, since the end of the Cold War, Russian engineers, in particular, are out of work with nowhere to turn!

"In other words," Baker continued, "there's plenty of available nuclear materials and scientists to make a bomb. We live in an age where any small country can have a nuclear weapons program."

"What about the other superpowers?" Snake asked.

"Russia and China still maintain a significant nuclear presence. Complete nuclear disarmament is impossibility. To maintain our own policy of deterrence, we need a weapon of overwhelming power." Snake sneered. "You mean Metal Gear," he spat.

"Yes," ArmsTech agreed sadly. "You know, our industry suffered quite a blow from cuts in military budgets, due to this so-called 'peace.'"

"I remember hearing a lot about mergers and takeovers among the big weapons makers."

"Yes, and after we lost our bid to produce the Air Force's next line of fighter jet, the Metal Gear system was our last 'ace in the hole.' That's why we pushed to have Metal Gear developed as a black project."

"Black project?"

"Secret programs funded by the Pentagon's black budget. You can avoid a lot of red tape and get a great lead-time on your weapons production. And no one can bother you, not even those bleeding heart liberals on the Military Oversight Committee."

Snake saw it for what it truly was. "Bribes..." He spat the word out bitterly.

"I prefer to think of it as good business," Baker muttered. "Anyway, Metal Gear was going to be formally adopted after the results of this test were analyzed."

Snake started to walk toward Baker, disgusted with what he had just heard. "I don't give a crap about you and your company," he snarled.

"Yes," Baker replied, with an ironic smile, "That's just what I'd expect from a grunt like you." Fishing into his trenchcoat pocket, he said, "Here. This is what you came for, right?"

Snake took the rectangular object from ArmsTech. "What's that?"

"An optical disk," Baker explained. "It's all here. The main hard drive was destroyed by gunfire. This is the only remaining copy of the data."

"What kind of data?"

"All of the results collected from this exercise. Don't play dumb. I know you were sent to get this. They don't know this disk exists. Make sure to report this to Jim...to your boss..."

Snake assumed "Jim" to be Secretary of Defense Jim Houseman, and left it at that. A card was thrust in front of his face.

"Take my card, too," Baker insisted. "It will open all Level 2 doors."

Snake began to feel some sympathy for the man. Resting his hand on Baker's shoulder, he asked gently, "Can you walk?"

"No..." Baker shook his head. "No, you go on without me. They got my password. They don't want anything else from me."

"I have one more question. Who or what was that ninja thing? It look liked you knew something."

Baker's eyes washed over with fear. "That ninja? That was FOX-HOUND's dark little secret!"

"Dark little secret?"

"An experimental...genome...soldier..." Baker hacked a few more times, his throat becoming more raw with each cough.

"You know him?"

Baker hesitated, then replied, "You should ask Dr. Naomi Hunter from FOX- HOUND. She knows better than I."

"Naomi?" Snake asked incredulously.

"You've got to stop them," Baker groaned. "If it goes public my company and I are finished!"

Snake was thinking about the company again, and it led back to Metal Gear. "What? Doesn't Metal Gear use currently existing technology?" "Metal Gear itself does...but-"

He let out something close to a scream, and his free hand went to his chest, clawing at it, in a manner similar to the DARPA Chief during his heart attack. "What...did you...do to me?!" he exclaimed. "Unngh...oh, no, it can't be! THOSE PENTAGON BASTARDS! SO...THEY ACTUALLY...WENT...AND...DID IT!"

"What are you talking about?!" Snake demanded.

"They're...j-just...using your for..." Baker let out an enormous groan, cocked back his head, then drooped. His bowels were released, and Snake knew that Baker had to be dead. "What the hell?" Snake asked the walls, before taking a knee and dialing 140.85.

Before Colonel Campbell even had a chance to speak, Snake interjected, "Colonel? Are you listening? NOW HE'S DEAD, TOO!"

"I have no idea," the Colonel started.

"DON'T LIE TO ME!" Snake roared.

Naomi came on. "It looked like another heart attack, but..."

"Some kind of poison?"

"Well, there are lots of drugs that can cause a heart attack in large doses, for example potassium chloride or dioxides, but we won't be able to tell without doing an autopsy."

"Damn!"

Colonel Campbell came back on the line. "Snake, I want you and Meryl to work together!"

"Can I trust her?" Snake asked.

"More than you can trust me," Campbell replied, getting a deathly look from Snake. "Get in contact with her."

Mei Ling then inserted herself into the conversation. "Snake, there's a lot of electrical interference coming from there. It should be okay if you use burst transmission like us, but normal transmission is probably impossible. Try moving away from that area."

Campbell came back on. "Snake, get a hold of yourself."

Snake asked, "Naomi, what the hell was that ninja thing? A member of FOX- HOUND?"

"No," Dr. Hunter stammered.

"Are you sure?" he insisted.

"Yes," she said, regaining her confidence. "We have no one like that in our unit."

"Is that right?"

"Snake, I'm counting on you," Campbell said, before killing the line.

Sixteen hours and ten minutes until doomsday.