Snake looked at his fallen ally in shock, but no look of sympathy or
sadness was on his face. Only anger. Then, he heard footsteps that appeared
to come out of nowhere. He ran in the opposite direction of the sound, and
found a crate to hide behind. He was about two hundred feet away from
wherever the soldiers were going, which was far too much of a distance for
the human eye to hope to see. He put his scope up to his eyes and zoomed in
to where he had been five seconds earlier. He spotted two guards, and they
were standing near the lifeless Black Color. One guard took out his two-way
radio; he was receiving a call.
"Sir, we have a casualty on the outside of Tower B."
"Who is it?" The voice came from the radio, full of static and not very clear.
"No identification is available right now. But he's wearing a metal exoskeleton. It must be one of them. The boss must have eliminated him."
"Bring him in for identification at once! Understood?" The voice was stern, but not angry or irritated.
"Yes, sir." The guard put his radio away, behind the right side of his hip. Before they could do anything, however, Snake put his scope away and took out his Beretta in about one second. In the next second, he aimed and put a slug into each of the soldier's hearts, the second shot no more than a split second after the first. Impossible for anyone... except Solid Snake. Both guards crumpled and fell to the snow. Snake let his Beretta hang from his right hand and walked over to the guards' location to try to find any useful items, and to dispose of the bodies. However, Snake was stopped by a sound behind him, a single footstep, but Snake was able to react instantly. He turned around, with his Beretta pointed straight in front him, his eyes locked on the location of the sound. He saw a well built African-American man in a woodland camouflage body suit. The sleeves were rolled up, and he had on a matching military issue cap. His right sleeve was slightly torn, there were small blood stains all over his suit, and a scar on his right arm. He walked with an extreme limp. The man looked like he had been in a car wreck, yet Snake instantly recognized him from the Tanker incident. And vice versa.
"Snake... you-you survived that exploding Tanker? What are you doing here in Russia--in league with the terrorists, perhaps?"
"I could ask you those same questions," Snake replied. He then saw Dolph's right hand. He was holding his sidearm halfway out of the holster on his hip.
"Don't worry, Scott. I'm not with the terrorists. Hope that I can say the same about you." As if to give Dolph a little more insurance, he put away his own sidearm.
"Well, fear not. I'm not with the terrorists. I'm here to stop the Patriots' plan."
"Their plan? Kyle was telling me-" Snake started, but Dolph cut him off.
"Kyle? Did you meet up with Schneider already? Where is he now?"
"He-he was killed," replied Snake. "Just a few minutes ago."
"Killed? By who?" Dolph didn't have much sympathy in his voice; it was more anger than anything.
Snake let out a low, quick groan. "No clue. His suit malfunctioned, and that was it. What brought you here?"
"My resistance group came, and thought we could take down the terrorists. We were wrong. All of our members were murdered, with the exception of myself, Rob Lucier, our expert on the Patriots, and Schneider. I now realize the fatal mistake we made; coming in with no plan of any kind."
"Coming into a battle without a strategy?" said Snake. "Not the brightest idea."
"We were desperate, Snake. Desperate men will do desperate, and most likely stupid, things. It's a long story to tell, Snake."
"Then start by telling me who this 'we' is that you keep referring to," Snake asked of him.
"We call ourselves La Soulevemente (French for "the uprising". Go figure =P). A resistance group dedicated to ending the Patriots' reign. We once had as many as twenty members, but now it's just myself, Schneider and Lucier. We also have connections with the US Navy SEALs and other anti- terrorist units."
"Who exactly are the terrorists? Oeclot and his men?"
"Exactly, Snake. Genetic super-soldiers under the Patriots jurisdiction."
"Why are the Patriots here in the first place? This situation is all Liquid's doing, if I remember correctly..."
"Right, Snake. I'm sure you already know that he recruited the left-for- dead Gurlukovich private army, with his collection of lies and false promises..."
"Not exactly unheard of nowadays," responded Snake. "And it doesn't sound unlike Liquid."
"Exactly. He realized that one man could never defeat twelve men running the country by himself, so he drafted his own army. But he won't stop there. Soon, he'll have top-notch mercenaries on his side, eventually becoming near unstoppable..."
"How exactly did Liquid...rise from the dead? His body was positively IDed three years ago; there's no doubt that it was him."
"Snake, Liquid's rebirth was the Patriots' doing," Dolph replied.
"What the hell? Why reincarnate their biggest enemy?"
"It's part of their latest black project, though that wasn't the original plan. Let me start at the beginning. Tell me, do you remember the disappearance of about a hundred United States Army, Navy and Air Force rookies?"
"Yeah," replied Snake. "I do. The government blamed it on some kind of mass, serial murder. I, for one, didn't buy it for a second. Something was definitely up."
"Exactly. There was no murder or kidnapping or anything like that. Only government controlled propaganda. Just another lie." Dolph's eyes just about caught fire; bloodlust and hatred for The Patriots was in them. They were driving him slowly but surely insane, as they've probably done to many other people.
"Snake, they used those helpless rookies as pawns in their latest black project," Dolph informed Snake as he regained his cool.
"Doesn't surprise me," Snake commented. "The Patriots have been manipulating people ever since I can remember."
"Precisely, Snake. But now they're taking it to a whole new level. Snake, genetic technology have been America's greatest research for the past thirty years. They've been searching for a while to find a way to create warriors in the essence. As you know, training a soldier into a Foxhound- esque super-soldier takes at the least five to six years. But what if a soldier of that caliber could be "trained" in less than a year and a half?"
"Not possible," Snake said.
"That's what everyone else thought as well, Snake. But it is very possible. Snake, those hundred soldiers that were captured by the Patriots were put to a number of grueling training processes, which turned about twenty of them into super soldiers. The others didn't survive."
"What kind of exercises?" asked Snake.
"The soldiers were first put to normal field exercises. Military techniques such as capture the flag, obstacle courses, and even simple stretches and workouts. They did this for twelve to fifteen hours everyday at least for the first five to six months. Then things got more complicated. They started the biological and genetic tests and experiments.
"It started with what's called carbide ceramic ossification. It was basically a type of endoskeleton process. It was a type of grafting onto the soldiers' skeletal structure; it made their bones virtually unbreakable. Several of them died during this process due to white blood cell necrosis, which was an obvious risk. The Patriots didn't seem to know or care, however. And the Patriots are no idiots."
"They never do care about anyone or anything other than themselves."
"But that's only the beginning," continued Scott. "Next came the occipital capillary reversal. They manipulated the retina of certain subjects and boosted blood vessel flow beneath the cones of the retinas. The result-"
"An instant sniper." Snake finished his sentence for him.
"Right. However, in some cases, the process did the opposite of its original intentions, permanently blinding a number of the subjects."
"A handicapped soldier is not necessarily a useless one," Snake cut in.
"Apparently, the Patriots don't think the same way that you do, Snake. They deemed them useless, and ordered them killed. Like you said, the Patriots care only about themselves and their wants.
"Only one more process remained...that is, before the big finale of the project. They altered the bioelectrical nerve and shielded electronic transduction of the subjects."
"Greatly increased reflexes," Snake cut in, once again.
"Exactly. By more than three hundred times. And all of this wasn't easy. These processes killed more than half of the test subjects alone. But that wasn't the end. They've learned to do something that they never could, but have always wanted to. The Patriots have discovered a way to manipulate soldier genes, even create artificial soldier genes."
"How did they manage to do that?" Snake asked.
"Snake, where have you been for the past ten years? Under a rock? It's 2011. Time to join the twenty-first century, my friend."
Snake and Scott shared a small laugh, but immediately got back to business.
"But, in all seriousness, Snake, only the Patriots know how they did it. But they did, and the results are the terrorists that you and I face."
"And they agreed to this?"
"No, not a chance. The subjects were put under the influence of a hallucinogenic drug; basically, simple brainwashing, amnesia and mind control. But some of them fought it and resisted, such as Schneider and the other soldiers that we had before we came here. Perhaps they were 'immune' to the drugs that were used. Those who resisted and were found were immediately killed."
"But wait..." said Snake. "What does any of this have to do with Liquid's rebirth?"
"Well, if you remember from the Arsenal incident a little more than two years ago, the Patriots told Raiden that they were able to digitalize life. They can It started with Kyle Schneider after Zanzibar, then Gray Fox after Outer Heaven. Now, they've used it on Liquid. Although it doesn't sound like it, it takes a while and is a severe and punishing process; you saw the adverse effects it had on Fox and Schneider. I believe that they were able to this, to..." Dolph was searching for the right word.
"...'download' life into Liquid's lifeless body. But he also resisted against the Patriots and managed to escape.
"Just like the Liquid I know," Snake added.
"Snake, if this project succeeds like the Patriots want it to, the results could be catastrophic. They'll have finally done what they've wanted-"
Suddenly, a sound triggered Snake's reflexes. He took out his Beretta and pointed it towards the source of the sound. It was made by a team of four soldiers, looking for something, their heads turning in every direction. These were no Russian soldiers, however. The soldiers were very high tech, from what Snake could see. Equipped with night vision and balaclavas that gave them the red-eyed look of pure evil, 12-gauge shotguns in their hands, and clad in shades of black and gray, these guys meant business. They looked like reincarnations of the devil, all black silhouettes in the distance with piercing red eyes.
"No... damn," Dolph said. "They're looking for me, Snake. I can't afford to be found... They'll kill me on sight, I know it. And I'm in no condition to fight." Dolph had just made a mistake. He distracted Snake with those few though important words. The guards had spotted them both. Snake kept his sidearm trained on the enemy, radiating death with every breath that he took.
Snake got a better look at them as he got closer, and saw that they were wearing some type of armor that Snake could hardly recognize.
But it didn't matter. All Snake could think about was his trigger finger just waiting to act, to send hot lead into each of the soldiers' hearts. Someone was going to die here, and it sure as hell wasn't going to be Solid Snake. As the battle began, he gave Dolph a bit of advice.
"GET DOWN!"
"Sir, we have a casualty on the outside of Tower B."
"Who is it?" The voice came from the radio, full of static and not very clear.
"No identification is available right now. But he's wearing a metal exoskeleton. It must be one of them. The boss must have eliminated him."
"Bring him in for identification at once! Understood?" The voice was stern, but not angry or irritated.
"Yes, sir." The guard put his radio away, behind the right side of his hip. Before they could do anything, however, Snake put his scope away and took out his Beretta in about one second. In the next second, he aimed and put a slug into each of the soldier's hearts, the second shot no more than a split second after the first. Impossible for anyone... except Solid Snake. Both guards crumpled and fell to the snow. Snake let his Beretta hang from his right hand and walked over to the guards' location to try to find any useful items, and to dispose of the bodies. However, Snake was stopped by a sound behind him, a single footstep, but Snake was able to react instantly. He turned around, with his Beretta pointed straight in front him, his eyes locked on the location of the sound. He saw a well built African-American man in a woodland camouflage body suit. The sleeves were rolled up, and he had on a matching military issue cap. His right sleeve was slightly torn, there were small blood stains all over his suit, and a scar on his right arm. He walked with an extreme limp. The man looked like he had been in a car wreck, yet Snake instantly recognized him from the Tanker incident. And vice versa.
"Snake... you-you survived that exploding Tanker? What are you doing here in Russia--in league with the terrorists, perhaps?"
"I could ask you those same questions," Snake replied. He then saw Dolph's right hand. He was holding his sidearm halfway out of the holster on his hip.
"Don't worry, Scott. I'm not with the terrorists. Hope that I can say the same about you." As if to give Dolph a little more insurance, he put away his own sidearm.
"Well, fear not. I'm not with the terrorists. I'm here to stop the Patriots' plan."
"Their plan? Kyle was telling me-" Snake started, but Dolph cut him off.
"Kyle? Did you meet up with Schneider already? Where is he now?"
"He-he was killed," replied Snake. "Just a few minutes ago."
"Killed? By who?" Dolph didn't have much sympathy in his voice; it was more anger than anything.
Snake let out a low, quick groan. "No clue. His suit malfunctioned, and that was it. What brought you here?"
"My resistance group came, and thought we could take down the terrorists. We were wrong. All of our members were murdered, with the exception of myself, Rob Lucier, our expert on the Patriots, and Schneider. I now realize the fatal mistake we made; coming in with no plan of any kind."
"Coming into a battle without a strategy?" said Snake. "Not the brightest idea."
"We were desperate, Snake. Desperate men will do desperate, and most likely stupid, things. It's a long story to tell, Snake."
"Then start by telling me who this 'we' is that you keep referring to," Snake asked of him.
"We call ourselves La Soulevemente (French for "the uprising". Go figure =P). A resistance group dedicated to ending the Patriots' reign. We once had as many as twenty members, but now it's just myself, Schneider and Lucier. We also have connections with the US Navy SEALs and other anti- terrorist units."
"Who exactly are the terrorists? Oeclot and his men?"
"Exactly, Snake. Genetic super-soldiers under the Patriots jurisdiction."
"Why are the Patriots here in the first place? This situation is all Liquid's doing, if I remember correctly..."
"Right, Snake. I'm sure you already know that he recruited the left-for- dead Gurlukovich private army, with his collection of lies and false promises..."
"Not exactly unheard of nowadays," responded Snake. "And it doesn't sound unlike Liquid."
"Exactly. He realized that one man could never defeat twelve men running the country by himself, so he drafted his own army. But he won't stop there. Soon, he'll have top-notch mercenaries on his side, eventually becoming near unstoppable..."
"How exactly did Liquid...rise from the dead? His body was positively IDed three years ago; there's no doubt that it was him."
"Snake, Liquid's rebirth was the Patriots' doing," Dolph replied.
"What the hell? Why reincarnate their biggest enemy?"
"It's part of their latest black project, though that wasn't the original plan. Let me start at the beginning. Tell me, do you remember the disappearance of about a hundred United States Army, Navy and Air Force rookies?"
"Yeah," replied Snake. "I do. The government blamed it on some kind of mass, serial murder. I, for one, didn't buy it for a second. Something was definitely up."
"Exactly. There was no murder or kidnapping or anything like that. Only government controlled propaganda. Just another lie." Dolph's eyes just about caught fire; bloodlust and hatred for The Patriots was in them. They were driving him slowly but surely insane, as they've probably done to many other people.
"Snake, they used those helpless rookies as pawns in their latest black project," Dolph informed Snake as he regained his cool.
"Doesn't surprise me," Snake commented. "The Patriots have been manipulating people ever since I can remember."
"Precisely, Snake. But now they're taking it to a whole new level. Snake, genetic technology have been America's greatest research for the past thirty years. They've been searching for a while to find a way to create warriors in the essence. As you know, training a soldier into a Foxhound- esque super-soldier takes at the least five to six years. But what if a soldier of that caliber could be "trained" in less than a year and a half?"
"Not possible," Snake said.
"That's what everyone else thought as well, Snake. But it is very possible. Snake, those hundred soldiers that were captured by the Patriots were put to a number of grueling training processes, which turned about twenty of them into super soldiers. The others didn't survive."
"What kind of exercises?" asked Snake.
"The soldiers were first put to normal field exercises. Military techniques such as capture the flag, obstacle courses, and even simple stretches and workouts. They did this for twelve to fifteen hours everyday at least for the first five to six months. Then things got more complicated. They started the biological and genetic tests and experiments.
"It started with what's called carbide ceramic ossification. It was basically a type of endoskeleton process. It was a type of grafting onto the soldiers' skeletal structure; it made their bones virtually unbreakable. Several of them died during this process due to white blood cell necrosis, which was an obvious risk. The Patriots didn't seem to know or care, however. And the Patriots are no idiots."
"They never do care about anyone or anything other than themselves."
"But that's only the beginning," continued Scott. "Next came the occipital capillary reversal. They manipulated the retina of certain subjects and boosted blood vessel flow beneath the cones of the retinas. The result-"
"An instant sniper." Snake finished his sentence for him.
"Right. However, in some cases, the process did the opposite of its original intentions, permanently blinding a number of the subjects."
"A handicapped soldier is not necessarily a useless one," Snake cut in.
"Apparently, the Patriots don't think the same way that you do, Snake. They deemed them useless, and ordered them killed. Like you said, the Patriots care only about themselves and their wants.
"Only one more process remained...that is, before the big finale of the project. They altered the bioelectrical nerve and shielded electronic transduction of the subjects."
"Greatly increased reflexes," Snake cut in, once again.
"Exactly. By more than three hundred times. And all of this wasn't easy. These processes killed more than half of the test subjects alone. But that wasn't the end. They've learned to do something that they never could, but have always wanted to. The Patriots have discovered a way to manipulate soldier genes, even create artificial soldier genes."
"How did they manage to do that?" Snake asked.
"Snake, where have you been for the past ten years? Under a rock? It's 2011. Time to join the twenty-first century, my friend."
Snake and Scott shared a small laugh, but immediately got back to business.
"But, in all seriousness, Snake, only the Patriots know how they did it. But they did, and the results are the terrorists that you and I face."
"And they agreed to this?"
"No, not a chance. The subjects were put under the influence of a hallucinogenic drug; basically, simple brainwashing, amnesia and mind control. But some of them fought it and resisted, such as Schneider and the other soldiers that we had before we came here. Perhaps they were 'immune' to the drugs that were used. Those who resisted and were found were immediately killed."
"But wait..." said Snake. "What does any of this have to do with Liquid's rebirth?"
"Well, if you remember from the Arsenal incident a little more than two years ago, the Patriots told Raiden that they were able to digitalize life. They can It started with Kyle Schneider after Zanzibar, then Gray Fox after Outer Heaven. Now, they've used it on Liquid. Although it doesn't sound like it, it takes a while and is a severe and punishing process; you saw the adverse effects it had on Fox and Schneider. I believe that they were able to this, to..." Dolph was searching for the right word.
"...'download' life into Liquid's lifeless body. But he also resisted against the Patriots and managed to escape.
"Just like the Liquid I know," Snake added.
"Snake, if this project succeeds like the Patriots want it to, the results could be catastrophic. They'll have finally done what they've wanted-"
Suddenly, a sound triggered Snake's reflexes. He took out his Beretta and pointed it towards the source of the sound. It was made by a team of four soldiers, looking for something, their heads turning in every direction. These were no Russian soldiers, however. The soldiers were very high tech, from what Snake could see. Equipped with night vision and balaclavas that gave them the red-eyed look of pure evil, 12-gauge shotguns in their hands, and clad in shades of black and gray, these guys meant business. They looked like reincarnations of the devil, all black silhouettes in the distance with piercing red eyes.
"No... damn," Dolph said. "They're looking for me, Snake. I can't afford to be found... They'll kill me on sight, I know it. And I'm in no condition to fight." Dolph had just made a mistake. He distracted Snake with those few though important words. The guards had spotted them both. Snake kept his sidearm trained on the enemy, radiating death with every breath that he took.
Snake got a better look at them as he got closer, and saw that they were wearing some type of armor that Snake could hardly recognize.
But it didn't matter. All Snake could think about was his trigger finger just waiting to act, to send hot lead into each of the soldiers' hearts. Someone was going to die here, and it sure as hell wasn't going to be Solid Snake. As the battle began, he gave Dolph a bit of advice.
"GET DOWN!"