Snake stepped from the junk warily. He had learned never to trust the phrase, "Snake, I have a job for you." It always preceded some form of betrayal. He surveyed the crowd of milling people and frowned. He hated masses of people like this one where you couldn't walk without being bumped into. Snake sighed standing on the dock and looking back toward New Vegas. If that bastard had lied Snake would find a way to kill him. He turned away from the fog filled bay and back to the throngs of people. This was not his territory and from what he had seen in the New Vegas Casino this was as bad as the prison in New York only here there were cops too.

He stepped into the sea of people and the murmurs started. His Thai wasn't bad but it wasn't good enough to keep up with the chattering crowd of locals. "Shit" He cursed under his breath. He wasn't about to stand around and wait for the dealer that was suppose to meet him on the docks. He hadn't been there and it wasn't like Snake wasn't visible among the mostly Asian crowd. He pulled out a cigarette and lit it, his eye perpetually watching the crowd. Taking a long drag he looked out to the opposite side of the street: a whorehouse, a casino, an opium den and the mist blotting out everything else. It was still clear enough that Snake could make out the neon of the bar. Without hesitation he again started through the crowd. He needed a drink.

"Hey, One-Eye."

Snake stopped his eye narrowing at the insult. He took another slow drag from his cigarette before turning. There was a man making his way through the crowd. His inability to navigate through the people marked him as from the mainland. Snake waited, a small half smile appearing as he watched the rather rotund American pushing his way through the crowd.

"One-Eye, Hear you're quick on the draw." The man said coming to a stop in front of Snake and wheezing from the walk.

Snake frowned. "The name's Snake." That was the moment he heard it behind him in the crowd; the snap letting go, the metal sliding against leather and the slide beginning to move. "This is a test." His mind screamed. Instantly he drew his revolver and turned to see the gun clearing the top of the crowd. Snake didn't even pause to question who the gun was aimed at. Life had proven over and over again that the gun was always aimed at him. Snake pulled the trigger and turned back to the dealer scowling and agitated. There was a glimmer of shock in the American's eyes as he re-holstered the revolver.

"Very good." The man finally said in a voice that barely hid his fear or nervousness. "I need a gun fighter for the casino."

"Yeah?" Snake questioned as his eye suspiciously traveled over the crowd.

"Food, whores, drugs, you name it and it's yours if you can take out our competition." There was just a hint of sleaze in the man's voice that brought Snake's eye back to meet the American's gaze.

"Drinks?" Snake asked to stall for a moment while debating the offer.

"Sure, whatever you want." The man answered anxiously.

"What's the deal?"

"Table gambling Cobra style and a Bangkok duel." The American answered. Snake nodded yes but walked in the other direction toward the bar still intent on having a drink. The American watched him for a moment before scrambling to catch up. "Hey One-Eye where ya going? I thought we had a deal?"

Snake stopped and turned angrily on the fat man. "The name's Snake." He growled.

"Oh...Oh yeas. Snake." The man was in a panic. "Where are you going?"

Snake walked away. "Don't worry I'll be there."