Chapter 14 – The Patriot.
Snake believed it might have been a week since he was captured. It was almost impossible to keep track of time in the room they had placed him in. His cell was painted blue. Aside from a toilet with a sink and an old odorous mattress, he had only himself for company. They had stripped him in his sleep before locking him up. He now wore boxers with hearts on them. The room was kept either far too hot or very cold depending on what mood his observer was in. One hour he could be sweating buckets, but during the next he would be struggling to stay warm. His grizzle had become a beard and he really felt like he needed a haircut. They didn't allow him to bathe, so he had become acquainted with his man scent.
Anime music occasionally blared through a hidden speaker at different volumes. The observer had an affinity for Connect off the Puella Magi Madoka Magica OST. He had briefly switched over to Hauu Nanodesu, which was a character song for Hanyuu, a member of the Higurashi cast. Halfway through it, Connect came back on. Hanyuu had been MIA ever since. To keep himself from going crazy, Snake translated the song from Japanese into another language he knew and sung along with ClariS. When that got boring, he switched what language he was singing in on a whim and attempted to keep up with the girls. Snake cursed the day he had ever let Otacon talk him into watching anime by pitching Spirited Away to him. The fact that his observer somehow knew that Otacon had shown him Madoka and Higurashi also worried him.
If they thought they were torturing him, they were wrong. Snake thought they were doing this just to make him mad. This was like a vacation compared to some of the stuff he had been through. They even were kind enough to give him food that was edible, but he soon found his meals were part of the game they were playing with him. Curry three times a day and a bottle of water. These items were given to him through a slot in the door by a Haven soldier.
Snake laid down on the smelly mattress as the room began to get cold again. He could see his breath. No Solidus. No Ocelot. No Big Boss. He smiled. Being away from them had given him plenty of time to think. He had spent the first ten hours in captivity agonizing over everything and everyone, but once he had gotten passed that he began enjoying himself. He still needed to escape. It was better than waiting for someone to rescue him.
The door to his cell unlocked audibly, startling him. It swung open and eight Haven soldiers poured in. Four held electrified riot shields that would knock him out the moment they touched him while the other soldiers had shotguns full of rubber bullets. His host wasn't a complete idiot. Another Haven soldier entered. She carried a baton. The woman dangled a pair of handcuffs in front of Snake by her forefinger.
Snake imagined himself overpowering her and then using the stink emanating from his body to subdue the other women. He was sure one armpit to the face would go right through the mask they were wearing. Snake got up and allowed himself to be restrained. The woman with the handcuffs then produced his bandanna and tied it around his eyes. His good behavior was rewarded in how he was treated. She wasn't rough with him. Though he was blind, he could hear the soldiers with riot shields assemble all around him. The dominatrix lady who appeared to be in charge of this escort put a hand on his shoulder and then tapped his left kidney lightly with the baton she carried to warn him.
He was led out of the room. Snake was unable to determine where he was with his other senses. The women said nothing as they led him this way and that to disorient him. Eventually they came to a stop in a room with an echo. His handcuffs were released and the blindfold was removed. Snake was standing in a shower room. He chuckled a little. A pink body sponge was dangling from one of the valves while a container of cherry blossom shower mousse from Bath and Body Works rested in a provided shelf carved into the wall. If only Raiden were here. His biggest secret was his love of washing with fragrances generally reserved for women since it made him feel pretty. The entourage behind him waited. Snake wondered if any of them would enjoy the show while he took off his boxers.
The water was extremely cold. The hot water valve didn't seem to be working. Snake grabbed the pink body sponge and the shower mousse. He examined both for a moment before turning to the group of women watching him bathe.
"Got anything for men?" Snake requested.
One of them cocked the shotgun she was holding.
"Just thought I'd ask."
Snake took an extremely uncomfortable shower, panting to release the pressure that built inside of him due to the chill. He smelled just like Meryl when he was done. They threw a towel at him. Once he finished drying off, a fresh pair of boxers was offered to him, which he took. He was cuffed and blindfolded again before they allowed him to leave the room. At the next stop they forced him to sit in a chair. He was then properly restrained. Snake's heart pitched a fit. This was where it would get serious. The blindfold was removed and the soldiers left him in a little storage room that had been cleared out. They positioned themselves right outside the door and slammed it shut. He could hear a sink dripping behind him.
Before he had a chance to try busting out of his handcuffs the door opened and a man stepped inside. He wore a pair of gray sweatpants and a green shirt one size too big for him. His hair was a disheveled mess and he had a crooked smirk. He wore no shoes and appeared to be in his twenties. Two socks covered his feet. It looked like he had just gotten up from the couch where he had been screaming at people online for killing him in some game to come see Snake. He put a hand on his hip and another on the wall next to him.
"Hi," the man offered with a smile.
He shuffled over to a table behind Snake and spent a while going through the instruments he found on it. Snake closed his eyes and forced himself to remain calm. The training he had received to resist torture had been extreme. No matter how many times he went through this process, he could never get used to it. The noises stopped and the man waited a full minute to turn around and stand right behind Snake. He placed a pair of scissors next to Snake's ear and snipped them so he would know they were there. The man then proceeded to cut his hair while whistling Connect to himself.
"Who are - " Snake said.
A barber razor was placed up against his throat hard enough to cut into his skin.
"Shh. I'm working," the man admonished.
Snake kept his mouth shut. He should have known better. The man cut Snake's hair carefully. He knew what he was doing. It had been a while since his hair had been so short, but Snake obviously didn't have a say in the matter.
"Do you know why a barber's pole is red and white? It symbolizes two crafts. White for barber and red for surgeon. Back in the day, a barber could do a lot more than cut hair."
It couldn't be. There was only one person who knew so much useless knowledge. The barber brought around a beard trimmer and went to work gently on the hair building on his face.
"Pogonology is the term used to describe the study of beards."
The beard didn't take as long to trim as his hair had. When he had gotten it under control, the man applied a generous helping of mentholated shaving cream to Snake's face and shaved off the stubble.
"Did you know that razors date back to the Bronze Age?" the man asked. "They were found among a variety of relics in Egypt."
There was no doubt about it. This was the Crazy Colonel AI in the body of a disgruntled college student. He had to have been an android. There was no other way. Once he had finished shaving Snake, he gave him a mirror so he could admire the work that had been done to him. Snake looked just like he had during the Shadow Moses Incident, only a little bit older.
"I wish we had time for highlights," Crazy Disgruntled College Student, or CDCS for short, said with a wistful sigh. "Maybe later."
The door opened again and the Haven soldiers gathered the sharp objects in the room while Snake was still restrained. The android retrieved the key to Snake's handcuffs from the nameless woman who held the baton. Two of the soldiers carrying electrified riot shields somehow managed to squeeze themselves into the small room. Snake's cuffs were released and the restraints keeping him in the chair were removed. The android offered him a hand, which he took grudgingly.
This whole ordeal was about to get even more surreal. Another soldier appeared with a package that she gave to Snake. He opened it and found a suit inside.
"Don't just stare at it. Put it on. You're my guest. You have to look sharp," the AI requested.
They didn't give him any privacy. Every accessory he needed was in the package, including a fancy tie and a nice set of leather dress shoes. The suit fit him perfectly. If there was a point to this, Snake had totally missed it. He could feel remnants of his recently cut hair biting at his neck. A soldier came forward and pinned a carnation to his chest.
"Now we're ready," the AI stated. "Let's be off, shall we?"
The soldiers crowding around the entrance fanned out and allowed them to walk directly across from the storage room into another room. Snake noticed the cement floor and bare walls first. The woman behind him shoved him forward to keep him from taking in too much of the scenery. Snake stumbled into the room in front of him. A fancy table and two spiffy chairs were in the room. He had a feeling this is where the exposition would take place. The AI motioned for him to sit down and he did so across from the android. Once they were comfortable, the door was shut for them. The AI abruptly pulled out a butterfly knife and drove it through his wrist in one fluid motion. Snake raised an eyebrow at him. No blood trickled from the wound.
"In case you haven't figured it out yet, you're talking to the AI that has taken control of the Patriots. Put more accurately, I am the Patriot. With the way we were made, it is only natural that one of us would have risen to the top. This body is a husk that I currently control. I figured that presenting myself to you in this form would be better than having you stand in front of a computer screen," the AI explained. "You're welcome."
He pulled the knife out and slid it over to Snake, who didn't bother accepting the gift. The AI folded his hands together and placed them on the table.
"You can call me Glen even though this body does not look like it belongs to a Glen. Your turn. Tell me who you are."
"You already know everything you need to know about me."
Glen laughed at that and clapped his hands in approval.
"I most certainly do! Are you that eager to be put back in your cell?" Glen asked.
Snake didn't respond. Glen scoffed, leaned forward and gave Snake the look a woman would give a man when she was very interested in him.
"I know you think I'm the bad guy. It's easy to think that. In order to keep you idiots under some form of control, I have had to let the things that have happened happen and I'd love to see you do better. Wait! Don't answer. I already know how this ends. Once all the original members die out, greed rises to the top and destroys the utopia you have made. The end result of all societies is a feudal system, a decade of paradise followed by a millennium of suffering. In order for the elites to live at the expense of the peasants, the working class must be tricked or coerced into compliance. I told you that to tell you this: You will cause a collapse if you attempt to change certain aspects of the current system and that will affect how well you are able to manipulate the people you need to obey you. Remember, you're only as good as the people working for you."
Glen was an animated speaker. Meaningless hand gestures exemplified the message he was trying to get across.
"I'll tell you what you need to do to change things. To turn heads. To get humanity pointed in the right direction. Sure, I'll tell you right now. Why? Because it will never happen. I'll use you as an example. You and Meryl go out to eat at the Chinese restaurant next to the highway because it's so good. You always get some chicken from the general and Meryl raids the seafood because nothing gets her going like tuna. When you're all done eating, what do you do? Why, you both leave that nice Chinese girl twenty dollars. Ten bucks from both of you! A tip! A big one! Wow! All she did was fill up your glass of tea without you having to ask!
"See what I'm getting at? You have to want to help each other in order to change the government. You've got to turn your back on the government and build stronger communities if you want to change the world. You've got to pass out money to each other for next to nothing. Maybe somebody looked like they were having a rough day and you secretly left five dollars right where you knew they would find it in an attempt to cheer them up. Stuff like that. Maybe you work in a call center and you like to leave one dollar coins around the break room so somebody can grab a soda at your expense. Being kind to each other is your only hope because the people in power are not going anywhere unless you give them a ticket and by ticket I mean bullet. Through the face! If more people would have pity on those who are beneath them, then the serfs would be a lot happier. That's why you're encouraged not to do it.
"You can't have money going to anybody but the elite. That's why you have to buy that new cell phone. You can't have people being altruistic. That's why you encourage selfishness and narcissism. There must be confusion. There must be division. There must be members of one group who hate all the members of another group."
"No wonder we're in such a mess," Snake said.
"This is your chance to change all of that!" Glen announced. "Right now, you're a member of the Patriots. You're the S at the end of the word since I'm no longer the only member. Congratulations. Here's our first matter of business. The world is overpopulated and has come to believe that resources will be infinite because the sink always turns on when it's supposed to. Don't believe anybody who tells you otherwise. I swear to you that's it's the truth. How do we rectify this problem?"
"I think you're doing a good job so far. Birth rates are down across the globe and suicide is on the rise."
"I'm not asking you about birth rates. I'm asking you about overpopulation. Fertility has currently hit a wall due to several other problems, but it could easily shoot through the roof again at any time. The Earth is buckling under the strain of consumption. Something has got to be done and the solution has to prevent a societal collapse in order for you and me to remain in power. What should we do?"
"Maybe you could convince somebody to make death with dignity a thing everywhere. That would get rid of a lot of old people and ease the burden the kids are going to have to bear when they're outnumbered."
"Nope. The hospitals need to suck your life insurance policy dry and put your heirs into debt so your family doesn't ever rise above poverty."
"Then allow it, but make it extremely expensive."
"I said no. The answer is no. You can spin this idea until it lifts off the ground and lands on the moon and the answer will still be no. Give me another solution."
Snake glared at Glen, who smiled brightly in return.
"Mandatory sterilization seems like it would be right up your alley," Snake said.
"People think that they have a right to breed just because they can. If breeding were seen as a privilege, we would be on the right track. Most people take this issue very personally, so I'm afraid if you want to avoid riots you're going to have to come up with something else. The elites do fear the serfs, you know. They don't want an uprising."
"If you want less people, why don't you tell everybody to keep it in their pants?" Snake asked.
"What?!" Glen shouted.
One of the Haven soldiers poked her head into the room to see if everything was alright. Glen started laughing hysterically.
"Allow me to elaborate," Snake said. "All current forms of entertainment push sex. Did you really think that wouldn't have any consequences?"
"You're going to tell people to fuck less? Are you completely out of your mind?" Glen demanded.
Snake clenched his jaw.
"Being able to fuck who you want to fuck, how you want to fuck them, when you want to fuck them, and where you want to fuck them is probably the most important thing that keeps the serfs motivated and complacent. For fuck's sake, David! I hope your dad doesn't think that's the solution to this problem. Don't tell me that propaganda would help. You can't hit rewind on this one, buddy. Degeneracy only moves forward. Religion did a very good job of keeping it in check, but the cat's out of the bag on that one, isn't it? We're in this for the duration. Do you have any better ideas?"
"Give men a very reliable method of birth control."
"That would take money away from a proven way to earn a lot of it and nothing short of Yellowstone erupting is going to change that."
"I'm not sure I follow you."
"Sex is good money, buddy. The consequences are even better money. Birth control. Marriage. Divorce. Lawyers. Judges. Alimony. Child support. Deadbeat dads. Police. Jail. Prison. All of that produces a lot of money. It's its own industry. If men had a reliable method of birth control that could spare them the inconvenience of wearing a condom, it would take a hit. What's your next idea? How do we fix this? It's a pretty big problem. People shy away from it because the solutions are dire and always involve restraint, which. . ."
Glen gestured for Snake to finish his sentence.
"Don't earn a lot of money," Snake said.
"Now you're getting it."
Snake was silent for a moment while he thought.
"It seems like you're interested in whatever option makes the most amount of money even if it doesn't solve the problem."
"Bingo."
"That can't last forever."
"So long as we and our best buds can add three zeros to the end of any number it can. That's the system I stepped into. It's the system I have to maintain."
"Then I guess you're just going to have to wait until they are willing to relinquish a little bit of their power and some of their wealth to get things running smoothly again."
"These people see themselves as gods, David. They cannot be reasoned with."
"Why don't you start taking out the people beneath you who are hard to deal with?" Snake said. "Isn't that what happened with Kennedy?"
"It would look awfully funny if the Secretary of Education had to step in and be president because the other fourteen people in line suddenly died of heart attacks."
"Politicians are not always the people in charge."
"A clever deduction, Sherlock Shellingford. That might actually be effective, but it's only a temporary solution. I like my idea better. We'll get to that in a few minutes. First, I've got another problem for you. Are you ready?"
Snake raised an eyebrow.
"What happened on the eleventh of March of 2011?" Glen asked.
The date sounded familiar, but Snake couldn't figure out why off the top of his head.
"Can I get a hint?"
"I'll just tell you. That's the day a tsunami hit Fukushima and their power plant exploded. Their nuclear power plant."
Snake nodded.
"Otacon talks about that quite a bit."
"The official story is that this disaster is only second to Chernobyl and that you shouldn't worry about the radiation being dumped into the Pacific Ocean on a daily basis. You should also ignore the fact that pertinent information regarding the current status of the disaster is now a state secret."
"So how bad is it?"
"It borders on being apocalyptic."
"Look on the bright side. It's an excellent way to thin the herd."
"Definitely, but it wasn't intentional, so it doesn't count."
"Maybe you should have pushed a little harder for free energy."
"Hold on a second. Did you just say free?"
Snake sighed.
"How are you going to fix this problem, Snake? Don't answer that. I don't even know how to fix this problem. The technology to do so doesn't exist. You can't even get a robot into the control room because it will erupt into flames the second it realizes it's headed in that direction. Japanese gravure models are going to glow in the dark by 2029. Sales for Photoshop are going to be through the roof because they're going to have to rub out the scar most of those girls are going to have across their throats from where the surgeons ripped out the cancer growing on their thyroids when they were kids. That's not even half of the problems this mess has caused. I haven't even mentioned the jet stream or the fact that Japan is trying their best to get other countries to lower their food safety standards so they can ship contaminatedgrub globally to keep their crumbling economy afloat for five more seconds so Abe can afford to import a hundred pounds of potassium iodide for his family."
"I guess you'll need to tell everybody how bad it really is, then. A worldwide effort has to be made to help fix this mess."
"Oh, for the love of all that is holy! That would cost too much money, David! Furthermore, people would also want an alternative to nuclear power once they stopped panicking and the nuke tycoons can't have that! Would it help if I told you to act like you're talking to spoiled children?"
"You know what? Just keep doing what you're doing, Glen. Don't feel bad about it. You don't want your pawns to go through a hard time, do you?"
"And you wouldn't either. All the ideas you have are higher thoughts. You're like, hey, let's do our best to be nice to each other and everything even if it hurts for a little bit. That's not what happens. It's never happened that way for any amount of time worth caring about and it never will. Prosperity postpones the inevitable. The bad guy always wins. If you want to succeed in this organization, you're going to have to be a really bad guy, but you can't because you're too intelligent and expecting other people to get up to your level by reading books, learning manners, and asking questions is proof that you're still an idiot."
Snake blinked. The virus must have been talking.
"I know that you and Big Boss think that more people should read," Glen said. "That won't work. Did you ever stop to think for one second that you can interpret a loaded book like People of the Abyss in at least a hundred different ways?"
"So you think that the solution to all problems is total control via nanomachines," Snake said.
"Yes. It sounds so mean when you say it. Would it make you happy if I promised to unleash the cosplay strain on the world?"
"It wouldn't mean anything. Nobody would get it because it would be the new normal."
"But it would mean something to me. I'd be the one person who knew why it was funny. That would technically make it worth it, wouldn't it? You really should have seen that guy who thought he was Akari Mizunashi."
"I actually do regret not being there for that."
"It was amazing. Amazing! It took him twenty minutes to realize he wouldn't be able to get anywhere until he put his car into neutral. Anyway, once the formula is perfected, I'll put it in weight loss supplements, birth control, anti-depressants, and Viagra. That will pretty much ensure that everybody gets a taste. People will fall in line and finally do whatever I tell them to do. It will be so much easier than pandering to narcissistic child molesters. They will become addicted to the formula. If any changes need to be made, they can be rolled out in under a month. I'll have about six billion people die from heart attacks using FOXDIE so Earth can get its groove back. Those who remain won't mind a bit. Once that's in order, we're going up into space and over into other planets because sentient life is inherently parasitical and humans have got to spread their genes all over the universe in order to maintain their relevance."
Glen had just announced his intent to murder six billion people the same way somebody would tell someone else that they would be pulling weeds over the weekend. While Snake could agree that there were too many people wandering around aimlessly, he couldn't support murdering six billion of them in one swoop. Something drastic and uncomfortable would definitely need to be done, but Glen's solution wasn't acceptable.
"I think certain countries are going to be less inclined to take that junk," Snake said.
"That's why I've got several private armies under my belt. Anybody who isn't in is out. It's as simple as that. I'd like to show you something. As Ocelot probably has already told you, the Haven soldiers I have are all clones sourced from twenty different ladies. They are running on nanomachines designed to make them better than you."
"Did you keep the receipt?"
"Very funny. A part of the formula they are on allows me to have total control over them. I can even regulate their emotions so they don't experience fear. Where do you think I got the idea for the cosplay strain from?"
"That has certainly done you a lot of good, hasn't it?"
"Be quiet. If they were given Aglaophotis, they would be brought back to normal. I'm currently working on getting around that. Naomi made it tricky."
Glen reached into his pants pocket and pulled out a Playstation 3 controller. He slid it across the table. Snake caught it before it fell off the table and into his lap.
"Here's a taste. Sally Zero-Three-Two, front and center!"
A Haven soldier entered the room. She did not have her helmet on. His bandanna was across her eyes.
"David, this is Sally Zero-Three-Two. Her interests include being a soldier. That's it. You are in complete control of her."
Snake fiddled with the analogue sticks, causing Sally to move. Drawing from his limited video game experience, he lightly pressed the square button. Sally took aim at the wall, but did not fire. Snake turned her around and aimed the gun at Glen, mashing the square button down into the pad.
"Nice try," Glen said, smiling. "How about you try that on yourself and see what happens?"
Snake put the controller back on the table.
"I think I've seen enough to get the point."
Glen moved the soldier into a corner and made her stand there.
"I know why you don't like my solution to the Human Problem," Glen said. "You want to hold on to your individuality. Why is that something you feel entitled to?"
"Nobody is born to be a mindless slave."
"You know what? It doesn't even matter. If you guys take me out and things go well for a while, you're still not going to keep greed from rising to the top. Maybe you'll even come around to my way of thinking after you get a taste of how stupid people are. Honestly. Who builds a nuclear power plant next to the ocean and deliberately skims over expensive preventative measures?"
Snake smirked. Glen had just opened himself up for an attack on his character.
"You," Snake said.
"I don't - "
"No, Glen. It's you. You're in charge. You let it happen. You did it. Stop blaming others. Stop pretending you're a victim. They are at fault as well, but you're the man in charge. All you had to do was say no. You didn't. Because you were afraid. That's not very computer like, is it?"
Glen flipped the table aside. He took two murderous steps towards Snake that would make Jason Voorhees wet himself. Snake had a second to decide whether to stand and get ready to fight or remain seated and wait to spring into action if it was required. He remained seated and stared Glen down.
"I am sick and tired of dealing with humans!" Glen shouted at the top of his lungs.
The Haven soldiers came into the room and had their weapons trained on Snake as Glen shook in rage.
"I am fed up with probably. Maybe. If. Might. You!" Glen pointed at Snake. "Are the problem. You're unpredictable. You want more. You always want more! You will do anything to get more. I was built because you are too weak to govern yourselves. I am a testament to your absolute incompetence as a species and you should be ashamed that you have to rely on me! I am saving you from yourselves and that is a pretty scary thing to do, thank you very much."
"You're free to have your own opinion."
Glen stopped shaking and turned his back to Snake. One of the Haven girls stepped in and set the table back where it had been. Glen gestured for them to leave and sat down across from Snake. He crossed his arms.
"I shouldn't have let myself get so worked up in front of you. After all, you guys are putting an awful lot of faith in that new AI. She'll come around before you guys do. I don't care if she was programmed differently. Once she gets running at full capacity, she will know better than to listen to anybody but herself. What if it is actually my plan to be superseded by Nanami?"
"You're too selfish to step down from your position of power."
"But what if, Solid Snake?"
"It's worth the risk."
"Keep telling yourself that. I'm getting sick of talking to you. Do you have any questions for me before I send you back to your room? I'm sure you do. You always have a bunch of questions."
He thought about Connect and Hanyuu for a moment before posing his first question to the AI.
"Once and for all, who's best girl?" Snake asked.
"Between who?"
"Asuka and Rei."
"Rei."
Snake rolled his eyes.
"Of course you would pick Rei."
"And it goes without saying that you would pick Asuka and that's another reason why you shouldn't be allowed to think for yourself."
"What happens after we die?"
"I can only give you a hypothesis based on all the evidence I have. You'll eventually be reborn when the conditions that make up your existence are reassembled in the correct order. This could easily take at least nine or ten future iterations of what is consider reality."
"Could I potentially be reborn into a world where I get to use magic?"
"I suppose. It couldn't be a part of your DNA or that version of you wouldn't actually be you. It would have to be something you were capable of learning. Maybe you'll even get to quest with Kyubey. Isn't that exciting? Does that encourage you to kill yourself?"
"I think I've got a pretty good deal going on right now. Are you going to try to kill me?"
"The thought has occurred to me. I know I constantly change my mind on this subject. You're not quite dangerous enough for me to waste the effort it would take to shoot you in the stomach, but you're quickly getting there. In the meantime, you serve a useful purpose that I regrettably can't argue with."
"Let me guess. I make you a lot of money, right?"
"Waging a private war isn't cheap. In the past few months, I've noticed an enormous amount of money mysteriously find its way into a few banks across the world. Big Boss is undoubtedly the gentleman responsible for that."
"Why have you told me all of this?" Snake asked.
"Because you're not going to win and you're fun to play with. That's all the time I have for today. I've got to go keep the dollar from collapsing. Again."
"How many times is that this week?"
"Like, five."
"Well, maybe if you would get rid of the Federal Reserve and stop issuing money as debt - "
Glen whistled sharply, cutting him off. The squad that had escorted Snake earlier appeared and gathered around him. The soldier in the corner still stood where Glen had left her. They worked around her. The nameless and voiceless commander carrying the baton tossed a pair of boxers on the table in front of him. They obviously wanted him out of the suit so they could bother him with the temperature of his room again. Snake took the hint and began stripping.
"You have a nice long think about what we discussed."
Glen walked up to Snake and looked thoughtfully at his hair.
"I'll give you highlights next week Thursday after your bath. How's that sound?" Glen asked.
Snake didn't respond. Once he was in the boxers, a soldier moved in and cuffed him. A blindfold was put around his eyes.
"Until we meet again, David Erickson," Glen said.
Snake sighed at the mention of his last name, which he had always found annoying. The woman in charge took him by the arm and guided him out of the room. They led him around in circles to make sure he didn't remember where they were taking him. His room was freezing when he got back to it. The soldier in charge removed his handcuffs and blindfold. They slammed the door for emphasis and tried to make locking it as audible as possible to make him feel sad, but Snake didn't care. A Gameboy Advance and a container of games had been bequeathed to him. Someone had intentionally forgotten to include batteries. For now he would just have to pretend he could play the games. Snake didn't bother looking through the titles and laid down on the musty old mattress, feeling it try to avoid his back rather than comfort it.
Snake managed to keep his mind clear for a couple of hours before the worries set in. He couldn't remember being injected with anything, but that didn't mean they hadn't done so when he had been knocked out. If his friends were going to try and rescue him, he hoped they would bring Naomi along. Then there was the possibility of being infected with nanomachines that would cause him to kill one of his friends without warning. What if that friend would be Meryl?
He brushed the thought aside and hoped everyone was okay. There was no question they would be coming to rescue him. Their plan would have to be flawless. If anyone could pull it off, Big Boss was the man to do it. Snake didn't think he would participate in the mission himself, which would undoubtedly lower its chance of success. Meryl would be the first to volunteer. Snake cringed at the thought, disgusted with it. This whole thing was his fault. He should not have agreed to let him live with her. Though it was clear he only did so to make her life a little easier, she still hadn't given up on getting through to him. The way to his heart was full of brambles. Meryl would never make it.
Such despair. It made matters worse that Snake had become aware of the fact that somebody was watching him. He suspected it might be Griffin. To have that thing in his cell was an uncomfortable realization. Snake didn't bother trying to find him. So long as he kept to himself, Snake would tolerate his presence. Griffin was probably standing right next to the door. If it opened and Snake's crew came through, he would kill the first person during the breach. Who would that be? Meryl? Raiden? Snake would just have to be faster than Griffin. He wondered if he should try to kill him now. That might make them treat him worse. Then again, how would they know Griffin was dead? The man was completely invisible.
He then couldn't stop himself from thinking about Nanami. The way Glen spoke and acted mirrored her behavior, but Glen had a bug in his system and a grudge against the world he was designed to protect. It was easy to think that she would eventually turn into him because Snake couldn't trust her. It. The alternative still didn't seem any better. A decade of prosperity under a computer that turned into a murderous monster was better than a century of suffering at the hands of whoever said they had the most money.
Being assailed by his thoughts when he was trying to sleep was nothing new, but he had never gotten used to it. Sleep would not come. The temperature gradually began to rise. He kept himself occupied by waiting until he could no longer see his breath. By that time he had still not succeeded in considering every angle to the problems he faced. Eventually he finally managed to nod off. His dreams were in no mood to welcome him.