AN: Inspired by the hope Metal Gear Solid 3 will one day be remade because better graphics versions of these characters on the Internet are sweet.
AU, probable OOC, and varied canon history. I have no idea if they give detailed histories and specifics on time before MGS3. I worked off of what I had from the games and that's mostly it. If there are discrepancies, just go with it. Enjoy reading!
The Triple Agent
Groznyj Grad, Tselinoyarsk, USSR
September 1960
Weapon construction was in the preliminary stages of planning when he arrived three months after his sixteenth birthday. He'd been deemed old enough since he was able to show exceptional aptitude and skill in most areas they required passing. His defection from the NSA to the KGB would be believable because of his innate talents despite his young age. Youth served as an advantage in the eyes of the Russian intelligence agency, who believed he would be above suspicion because of it.
He was sent with an older female agent pretending to defect as well, and she was to keep an eye on him for their KGB handlers. Her cover was further helped by altering the rumor of defectors, claiming the pair were both men. The CIA informed him he would receive special treatment because of his war hero parentage, a backstory he assumed they concocted seeing as how they never let him know anything about his parents before. They also told him there were warnings delivered that he was of unique interest to the Philosophers, who raised him, and therefore untouchable.
Adamska read the reports on the colonel in charge here. Sadistic and abusive use of power, tolerated because of his extreme wealth and dangerous connections. He supposed he should be grateful his superiors thought it useful to set his status untouchable, although he considered they'd only done it because Colonel Volgin might get angry they sent a kid to his station. The man was known for killing subordinates at will to make a point.
His eyes scanned the vast interior hall of the military base. He wouldn't get anywhere close to the weapons labs in the West Wing anytime soon. Not when he was a fresh face and in his present position of lieutenant because of privilege. It raised quite a few eyebrows when his fellow comrades learned he was on the fast track to ascend the ranks. It wouldn't be easy to get friends here.
That was fine by him. He wasn't here for friends. He was here to learn everything he could about the brand new compound in the mountains. Russia knew Volgin had plans for the country that might be of serious concern in the near future. Watch, listen, and learn. This was his mission to date.
Hm… Nearly lunchtime. He strolled toward the mess hall, stomach grumbling. A day at a time as they taught him.
July 1961
Every day he trained to improve his shooting skill while trying to gather anything he could for his impatient bosses. When he found out construction of Hind tanks was underway via blueprints brought outside the zone they were meant to remain in, this satisfied them for a few months. But he still had zero evidence on the location of the Legacy. He rarely saw Volgin, who was often away working on other secretive affairs the lowly soldiers were told nothing about.
Adamska didn't have friends. His special status alienated them which made him wonder if it was the wrong move for the CIA to do. He participated in special assignments because of that status, which earned him praise for successful completions, but no notice from higher command. The few times the colonel put in an appearance, it was usually to beat a soldier to death or near death to make clear he didn't tolerate poor performance. He wasn't making any headway.
Twirling his Makarov pistol before sliding it into the holster, he examined the woman in her mid-thirties seated across from him in the library.
"I've heard talk they're considering promoting you."
He reclined in the chair. "Already?"
"You were trained exceptionally well."
She meant the CIA training, and there was warning in her tone.
"Stop showing off, Adamska. We have time."
"For now. And it's boring here. What else am I going to do?"
Laughing quietly, she glanced around before leaning over the book she was pretending to read.
"I'm surprised you haven't made friends. You're very endearing."
He sneered. "To them I'm an entitled teenager who reeks of America no matter how Russian I might look and sound."
"Could be the cowboy thing."
Ignoring the jibe, he complained, "The age doesn't help. And this insistence it be known the secretive Philosophers have claimed protection on me. I don't get it. It's working against me."
EVA, she preferred he think of her as such always, sat back to stare into her book.
"It was the right action to take for someone like you, being anywhere near someone with inclinations like the colonel."
He frowned. "What does that mean?"
She worked in the medical ward. Was she referring to the punished soldiers received into her care on occasion? Did she believe he might face harsh punishment like they did even more so because of his age? He assumed that would be the case if he ever screwed up. Adults tended to look at a child in the Soviet Union and see potential to mold them.
"It means our handlers have been doing this for longer than you have," she said, sounding like she was avoiding saying something else. "Trust them. You must complete the mission."
Rising out of her chair, she murmured goodbye and parted ways. They never wanted to be seen together for too long. Although they were known to be fellow defectors from America to Russia, it was wiser to play at being cordial former colleagues and nothing more.
September 1961
The new captain looked at him strangely. He arrived two weeks earlier without regulation haircut and a sharp tongue. Quite rude, he made it no secret he was tolerating everyone around him and despised his placement. Adamska couldn't figure out for the life of him how the guy ended up in the GRU, or how he reached the rank of captain with that attitude.
Like his own rank of lieutenant, Captain Raikov was rather young to be a captain. By the carefully kept shaggy hair reaching down to his uniform collar as well, he must have connections himself to be granted such leeway.
His position was primarily desk duty inside the main building of the compound, so no reason for him to worry about hair maintenance falling to the wayside out in the forests. EVA uncovered he'd been relegated to this duty that amounted to bookkeeping as punishment for incidents in a sealed file. She didn't bother trying to get into them, seeing little to be concerned for.
He agreed with her lack of concern until the moment he was cornered in the back area of the library. Adamska observed the older man had an affinity for books in the brief time he tried to learn if he was someone to worry about. That day, he hadn't noticed the man's presence until he was shoving him into a shelving unit he was browsing, hand over his mouth from behind to muffle the startled yelp.
The hand released and withdrew once his automatic noise response died. Twisting around, he identified his attacker and sought to remain professional.
"Is there something wrong, captain?"
Uncertain, he started to raise his arm in a salute. Raikov pressed it back down to his side. Crossing arms over his chest, he was examined by bright blue eyes. This close to him, Adamska considered the paleness of his blond hair nearly made it gray. He was taller than him by a few inches. How his shoulders filled out the uniform hinted at hidden muscle.
Frowning, he was annoyed he had yet to put on any real definition despite all of his hard work and training. He was probably destined to be a soft-skinned, lean body type forever. He vowed in his head to add to his daily workout routine.
"No, no... Nothing wrong…" He studied the uniform and reacted with the usual surprise. "Lieutenant? How old are you?"
He sighed. "Seventeen."
"Important parents or grandparents perhaps?"
Adamska nodded and risked suggesting, "I presume you have a similar situation to grant..allowances."
The corner of the other man's mouth tilted up. "Something like that, but I wouldn't call it similar. Seventeen… I'm twenty-one. I didn't think it was possible for there to be a lieutenant so young."
He scowled. "It's not that young."
His remark went ignored in favor of a formal introduction. "I'm Ivan Raidenovitch Raikov. I serve in whatever capacity the GRU requires."
"I'm Adamska Ocelot."
"I noticed you don't tend to socialize with anyone around here. Work, work, work. Is that it?"
"Uh…"
A hand grasped his crotch. "I'll be your companion, if you like."
Slapping a hand over his own mouth to swallow the gasp, he quickly squirmed free of the inappropriate hold. But he was still trapped in the corner where he'd wandered in search of a text on advanced strategic warfare. He tried to settle the shocked expression stuck on his face.
"Captain Raikov, I really don't think-"
When he boxed him in on either side with both arms, his words were forgotten as he focused on whether he was in danger of being harmed. The captain leaned in close, lips practically touching his cheek.
"I think you're incredibly handsome. I can already tell, you are going to be beautiful your whole life. So..I appreciate a perfect specimen. Let's have some fun together. I guarantee I'm an excellent lover."
Conceited, exaggerating, and aggressive. Not traits he admired. Well, not the former two anyway. Although he could admit Raikov had a nice complexion, his aggression was the creepier, alarm bells ringing kind.
Sighting his exit, he ducked under the right arm and pivoted to steer clear of the arm that came up to meet his retreat.
"No, thank you, sir."
He strolled out of the library as quick as his adopted swagger would allow without revealing something was out of order. His fingers strayed to his belt, eager to toy with his gun but refraining in this area of the base. There was reputation to uphold after all.
Later that night, he suggested to EVA over their radio frequency they find a new place to meet for mission chatter.
October 1961
"The way you're racking up accomplishments, you're going to be promoted to captain within six to eight months."
Adamska all but shrieked in surprise, covering his privates immediately as he spun around to face the fully dressed man standing in his shower stall. Fighting to regain some dignity and footing, he put on a smirk.
"Jealous?"
"Curious," he admitted. "I've watched you train and practice new techniques. You learn quickly just by watching. Very impressive."
There was no pretense of formality in their situation, so neither one of them would bother with titles here.
"What do you want, Raikov? I was in the middle of something."
"Do continue," the man replied, unfettered by the violation of his privacy.
Unwilling to be beat, Adamska slowly backed under the cascading water of the shower head to wash out the shampoo. His hands stayed exactly where they were covering him. He wished he didn't care to be seen, but he did. It felt weird and embarrassing.
"You lived in America as an NSA analyst, half-Russian, half-American. Defected to the Soviet Union and joined the GRU at sixteen. So you were always smart."
The eyes lazily scanned his nude form up and down, expression betraying nothing.
"Associated with the Philosophers though? I must say, that was startling to read."
"Well then you would know it's only because they raised me to be a patriot. My parents were busy fighting wars to ever give a damn about me. The U.S. branch thought they had my loyalty but I always felt I truly belonged in Mother Russia."
"Word is you're not to be touched in any manner unbefitting an officer."
He frowned, knowing precisely what his interest in the matter was in regards to him.
Raikov stepped beneath the steady spray of water, soaking himself and his uniform, eyes zeroed in on his widening gaze.
"Seems a shame not to admire raw beauty by touch."
Ugh. What was this obsession with claiming he was pretty? He was a man, damn it. Sure, he thought he had decent looks, but he wasn't some creature to be put on a pedestal like Raikov obviously wanted to do to him.
A gloved fist punched him in the stomach and he doubled over, hands yet covering himself. Fingers wrapped around the back of his neck, drawing his head backward. Adamska stared awkwardly up at him, craning his neck to see. His eyes were narrowed slits from water leaking into them.
The other hand grabbed the arm that came up to try and hit him, before yanking painfully on his neck. Shoving bodily into him, he pushed them flat against the wall past the falling water. He attempted to get him off by using both hands but his wrists were seized and held to the side.
Clenching his teeth, he glared at the superior officer overtly abusing his position.
"Get off."
The uniform pressed to his nude form. Raikov's face connected with his to plant a kiss on his lips. He could feel something hard and large against his hip. It didn't take a genius or an experienced person to work out what that thing was.
Soon as the assault began, he leaped back, out of his immediate attack range and out of the water. Smiling smug and intrigued, he waved farewell and strutted for the exit.
"I'd make you scream, Ocelot. You'd love every minute of it."
Adamska was left alone in the shower room with those words hanging over his head and worries this would not be the last time he was uncomfortably propositioned.
He showered hurriedly to wash the stench of whatever body scent rubbed onto him from Raikov, and then practically raced for his room. There was nobody in the corridors of the officer quarters this late at night and he arrived without incident. When the door was locked behind him, he radioed EVA.
AN: I will post a new chapter every Sunday. First twelve chapters are the prequel and second twelve chapters are the alternate universe MGS3.