COLONEL CAMPBELL STOOD IN the Discovery's tactical operations center, flanked by Dr. Naomi Hunter on his left and Lieutenant Mei Ling on his right. The room was darkened, their faces illuminated by the sage green light emanating from the wall-mounted flat-screen televisions. All three studied the data as Naomi narrated.

"You'll notice at this point, his vitals show signs of consciousness," she said, pointing at the chart compiled from Solid Snake's nanomachine data. "He remains in this state for a few minutes, then his pulse quickens and an adrenaline surge hits his system. Something happened to trigger the flight-or-fight response. Yet, he doesn't move."

Campbell pointed to another line of data. "What's this?"

"His pain receptors went off the chart, and large amounts of endorphins, serotonin, gamma aminobutyric acid, and neurotensin were dumped into his bloodstream," Naomi said. She sighed, then looked to Campbell. "Were he shot or stabbed, the nanomachines would have registered that, and he'd likely be on the move."

Mei Ling pointed to another screen which displayed a blowup of a Soliton Radar map. "His signal has remained steady in the tank hangar's first floor basement. That floor is primarily a detention center and medical observation wing. We combine that knowledge with his biometric data, and all indicators point towards his being captured."

Campbell sighed. On cue, a petty officer approached and snapped to attention when he was within a few feet. "Sir, Secretary Houseman on the secure telephone for you."

With a nod, Campbell followed the petty officer to the nearest STU-III and picked it up. "Campbell."

"Do you have something for me, Colonel?" Jim Houseman said.

"We've confirmed Snake is still alive, sir," Campbell said. "He has yet to make contact. We have reason to believe that he's been captured by the terrorists."

"That's not good enough, Campbell," Houseman said. "I'm on my way there to take control."

"That's not necessary, Mr. Secretary," Campbell said. "This is more than we had an hour ago. Give me another hour. We can reestablish communication with Snake."

The line was silent as Houseman contemplated. After a moment, he took in a half-breath and said, "If he's been captured, it's likely he's been exposed to the remaining FOX-HOUND leadership. I'll give you another hour, Colonel. This is your last extension."

Before Campbell could answer, Houseman terminated the call. Campbell set the receiver in its cradle, then returned to Naomi and Mei Ling, who stared at him expectantly. He sighed and said, "We've got another hour to establish comms before Houseman aborts the mission."

"I'll try to raise him on the Codec," Mei Ling said as she marched smartly to her workstation.

Campbell clasped his hands behind his back and shook his head slowly. A second sigh fell from his lips before he murmured, "C'mon, Snake."

… … …

Snake's eyelids slowly retracted. The room was a light-colored blur. He blinked them rapidly to bring them into focus. The first thing he noticed was that he had free range of motion. He was stripped of his sneaking suit armor and blouse, but everything else was left in place. They even failed to remove his Codec monitor. Snake was certain that was not an oversight, but could not surmise to what end they had left him with a means of reaching out.

Snake registered an entity in his peripheral vision. He swung his legs out of bed and turned his head to face the person, a confused grunt falling from his lips.

"Looks like I've got a roommate," he said to himself. He rose from the bed and walked over. When he got a good look at the man's face, a surprised gasp took flight from his throat.

"The DARPA Chief?!"

It certainly looked like Donald Anderson. Black male, right age. The clothing was the same, minus the tie. However, his skin was pulled taught to his muscle and bones, as if every drop of moisture had been sucked dry from his body. Maggots crawled in and out of holes in his skin, no doubt feeding on the body. Snake's face twisted in disgust as the odor assaulted his nose, and he let out a low whistle.

"What a stench…"

A loud sneeze got Snake's attention. He glanced up and took in the room for the first time. Bulletproof glass surrounded his enclosure. The floor and walls were light blue and padded, and led to an electronically locked door with a small, barred window at head level. A lone Genome Soldier patrolled the cell's exterior, his FAMAS at the low ready. After a moment, the soldier sneezed again.

"Damn!" he said, his voice nasally from congestion. "I caught a cold…that witch! She stole my clothes!"

Snake smirked. The soldier from the cell block had been demoted to additional guard duty, no doubt due to his allowing himself to be overpowered by a captive. He marched back and forth, keeping his eyes on Snake. The FOX-HOUND veteran assessed his surroundings for a way out, but nothing presented itself.

The Codec chirped in Snake's ear. He walked to the corner of the room, turned to face the corner, and accepted the call.

"Yeah?" Snake asked.

"Snake!" Mei Ling said. "You're alive! Hang on!" In the background, he heard her yell, "Colonel, I have Snake on the line!"

A moment later, Roy Campbell's voice filled Snake's ear. Snake kept his hand at his side, not wanting to alert the guard that he was in contact with his superiors.

"Snake, are you okay?"

Snake took a deep breath in through his nose. "I've been better."

Dr. Naomi cut in. "How's Meryl?"

The question cut deep, amplifying the physical pain from the assault and torture. He struggled to maintain his composure. "They've got her…"

"Damn," Campbell cursed. He took a deep breath, then proceeded to business. "Snake, the government has decided not to give into their demands. We're trying to buy some more time."

Snake placed his left hand on the wall, giving him an oblique angle with which to face the Codec's screen. He wanted to see Campbell's response to the next line of inquiry. Things weren't adding up and Snake needed answers before moving forward.

"C'mon, Colonel," Snake said, an edge to his voice. "Why don't you stop playing dumb? I'm sorry about Meryl, but I want the lies to end, now."

Campbell's brow furrowed. "What are you talking about?"

Snake's gaze was intense and unwavering. "Metal Gear was designed to launch a new type of nuclear warhead, wasn't it?" The involuntary gasp from Campbell both betrayed the old warhorse and confirmed Snake's suspicions. A glower spread across Snake's face as he followed up. "You knew it all along, didn't you?"

Campbell hung his head and kept his silence. After a beat, Snake asked, "Why did you try to hide it?"

"I'm sorry," Campbell managed, his jaw clenched.

Snake shook his head slowly. "Can't tell the grunts, huh?" he asked, venom dripping from every syllable. "You've changed a lot. Metal Gear…secret advanced nuclear weapons research…does the White House know about this? How deep does it go?" His tone made it clear that he would tolerate no further deceptions.

Campbell sighed heavily. "As far as I know, as of yesterday, the President hadn't been briefed about the Rex project."

Snake shook his head. "Need-to-know basis. Is that the idea?"

"These are sensitive times," Campbell said. "Even sub-critical nuclear tests are causing quite a stir."

"Plausible deniability, huh?"

Campbell nodded. "Yes. And tomorrow, the President and his Russian counterpart are scheduled to sign the START-III accord."

Realization dawned on Snake as he mentally recalled the relevant information. The Strategic Arms Reduction Treaty was the evolution of a series of denuclearization accords between the United States and Russia, stemming from the bilateral Strategic Arms Limitation Talks between the US and the Soviet Union.

President Sears wanted to capitalize on the success of the Strategic Offensive Reduction Treaty he'd pioneered three years earlier, and hoped that he could resurrect the failed attempt between Sears's predecessor and then-President Boris Yeltsin to reduce the nuclear stockpiles of both countries. The original START-III proposal had been to lower the number to between 2,000 to 2,500 nuclear weapons by the end of 2007. Sears's proposal would bring that number down to 1,500 nuclear weapons by 2015.

"I get it," Snake said. "That's the reason for the deadline." He had to admit that it was a gutsy move from Liquid Snake. It placed the United States government between a rock and a hard place. Relinquishing Big Boss's cadaver would allow Liquid Snake to bioengineer an army of super soldiers. Failure to do so would result in Liquid Snake revealing that the United States had been developing a next-generation nuclear weapon the entire time, subsequently torpedoing the START-III talks.

"That's right, Snake," Naomi cut in. "And that's why we can't let this terrorist attack go public."

Campbell added, "We still haven't even ratified START-II or dealt with the issue of TMDs." Additional Theater Missile Defense was prohibited under the 1972 Anti-Ballistic Missile Treaty, but President Sears had withdrawn from the treaty early on in his administration, most likely as a power move designed to bring the Russians to the table. Analysts theorized that if START-III were successfully ratified, a new AMT would be drafted.

Snake's internal review was broken by Campbell continuing, "This has to do with the President's reputation and America's place as the dominant superpower."

Hot rage coursed from Snake's stomach and raced to his face, the rancor laced in every word as he rebutted. "So patriotism is your excuse for circumventing the Constitution?"

Desperation filled Campbell's eyes. "Please, Snake…just stop them."

Snake stared daggers back at Campbell. "Why should I?"

"Because you're the only one who can."

"In that case, tell me the truth about this new type of nuclear warhead."

Campbell pursed his lips hard before responding. "I told you before. I don't know the details."

"I don't believe you," Snake growled. Campbell averted his gaze. Snake took a deep breath and asked, "If the situation is so serious, why don't you give into their demands? Let them have Big Boss's remains?"

Campbell hesitated. "You see—"

Snake cut him off, snarling through clenched teeth. "Or is there some reason that you can't do that? Something you haven't told me about…?"

Naomi swooped in for the save. "Publicly, the President has been very vocal in his opposition to eugenics experiments," she explained. "We don't want the existence of the Genome Army to go public."

Snake was skeptical. "And that's the only reason?" Campbell opened his mouth to speak, but opted to remain silent. Snake couldn't tell if it was lying to a friend that tore him up or the knowledge that the chain of command would be displeased with the information he'd disseminated.

"Huh!" Snake spat. "The hell with you!"

"I'm sorry," Campbell repeated.

Snake took a deep breath and compartmentalized his irascibility for the moment being. He looked over his shoulder at the corpse in the corner, then turned back towards the Codec monitor. "The corpse of the DARPA Chief is lying right here next to me."

"Poor man," Naomi said, a fallen expression on her face.

Snake's brow furrowed. "But, it's strange…he looks and smells like he's been dead for days." He remembered the condition of Anderson's skin and added, "All his blood's been drained out, too."

Campbell gasped, his eyes widened. "Drained?!"

"Maybe to slow down decomposition?" Naomi theorized.

"I have no idea," Snake admitted.

"But the Chief only died a few hours ago, right?"

"Right. But he's already started to decompose."

Naomi's eyes narrowed as she contemplated. "What could it all be about?"

Snake shrugged. "Something in his blood that they wanted?"

Naomi shook her head. "I doubt it. Just the nanomachines and the transmitter."

Campbell asked, "Did the Chief tell them his detonation code?"

"I'm afraid so," Snake confirmed. "It looks like they've got both codes and are nearly ready to launch."

"Damn," Campbell cursed. "Is there any way to prevent it?"

Snake nodded, recalling the briefing he'd received from Kenneth Baker shortly before his demise. "It seems there's some type of emergency override device that can cancel out the detonation code. It's a countermeasure that ArmsTech installed secretly. You have to unlock it with three special card keys."

Campbell perked up at the news. "And where are those keys?"

"I've got one of them," Snake said. "I don't know where the other two are. Besides, I'm locked up here."

After a beat, Campbell shook his head and fixed Snake with a resolute stare. "We've got no choice. Forget about the keys. Your top priority now is to destroy Metal Gear itself. I'm sorry to have to lay it all in your lap, but you're all I've got. Bust out of there, and get to the communications tower."

Snake nodded dutifully. Campbell's mouth locked open as he searched for the words.

"Also…"

"What?" Snake asked, his patience thin.

Campbell exhaled heavily. "I know it's asking a lot…"

Snake's countenance softened. "Meryl, right?"

"Yeah…"

Snake gave Campbell another nod. "I'll save her."

"Thanks."

As soon as Snake signed off, he heard a digital chirping from outside the cell. The posted Genome Soldier approached the door, a sinister gleam in his eyes. He heard another door slide open and saw another pair of NGSF troopers approaching.

"Snake," the posted guard said gleefully. "It's show time. Ocelot wants you."

Nine hours and thirty minutes until doomsday.