The Road to Outer Heaven
Chapter 2: The Value of the Fox Title
By, Frank Hunter

Big Boss strode down a side hallway of the FOX-HOUND Command Center with the newly designated Solid Snake at his side. The latter was getting a bit anxious. It's true that Snake had a great deal of confidence in his own skills. That hadn't been shattered by Big Boss's interrogation and warnings. It's also true that he was hoping to be granted the top rank of "fox," particularly after breaking the training records on several of the entrance exams. Wasn't he good enough?

The immediate assignment of code names put a lot of faith in the commander's first impressions. While promotions were possible in FOX-HOUND, they were rare and often went uncelebrated. Most often, the name you were granted at your admission is the one you would make your reputation under.

Snake could see no immediate issue with his own name, besides the obvious sexual innuendo. He had opted not to voice his concern over that after Big Boss had confided in him that "snake" was a title he held to be very personal. He wondered why it meant that much. He also wondered that, if it was so important, what he had done to deserve it. But, the commander had refused to discuss it.

Turning a corner, Snake spoke up.

"Sir, I was wondering if I could ask a question about Gray Fox."

"Go ahead."

"You know that story about him? Baghdad, in 1991?"

"Of course," Big Boss mused. "I remember that operation well."

"…so it's true then?"

"Which part?"

"The thirty-five soldiers he killed."

Big Boss laughed. "Yes, he did do that."

"And he was armed only with a Beretta and a combat knife?"

"Yes. You seem surprised."

Snake was taken back. "It…it just always seemed farfetched."

Passing a sign that directed to the "Training Center," Big Boss turned his head enough for his good eye to catch a look at Snake. "Fox doesn't think so," he said. "He always considered it to be a 'decent challenge.' He's done better."

Better? Snake thought to himself. Maybe the fox title is more serious than I'd thought. It's not that he was losing confidence in himself, but if that legend and more about Gray Fox were true, then the limits on what he believed an operative capable of were being pushed. "If he's so good how come all the entrance exam records aren't set by him?"

Big Boss scoffed at Snake, knowing what he was hinting at. "If you don't learn to release these small grudges you're going to get yourself in trouble. Your code name is "Solid Snake," because it suits you. If you do deserve "fox" we can discuss it when and if you find yourself capable of competing with Gray Fox. For now, drop it."

An embarrassed silence persisted for a moment while Snake deeply wished he'd kept that to himself. Then, Big Boss more directly answered the question.

"The truth is that Gray Fox never took the entrance exams. In his case, it was never necessary."

"You knew him before he joined, then?"

Big Boss nodded slowly. "I wish FOX-HOUND could take credit for his training, but it would be a lie. As long as I've known that man, he has been a uniquely gifted soldier. You'll see."

The two had just reached the Training Center and made their way into the Rifle Range. FOX-HOUND's HQ was full of useful training scenarios and practice areas. Snake had been down here once already for his own entrance exam. The Rifle Range, though, was fairly standard. He'd expected to find Fox doing something more high level and "unique," as Big Boss had put it.

And, once inside the Rifle Range, he would not be disappointed.

There was no one standing at the counter. No one was there with a firearm. No one was there to practice. For a moment, Snake thought that Big Boss had made a mistake and that Fox would certainly be elsewhere. But, when he chanced a look out onto the range, he knew that he was wrong.

There was the silhouette of a man, standing very still, in the middle of the dimly lit range. Snake knew from experience that, in normal firing ranges, it was illegal for anyone to cross the counter and go out there for training, but nobody stopped this man. Big Boss just leaned against the back wall, crossing his arms, and watched. Snake followed suit and stared out into the range.

This range was set up to launch a series of cardboard targets up off the floor for a short period of time. The idea is that the shooter can put a bullet into each target before it goes back down. The situation perplexed Snake, as he didn't understand what benefit Fox would get by standing in the middle of it all. The advantage of such a training exercise was to improve accuracy at range. But, as the system started up, the meaning became apparent.

The lights flashed on brightly, and Snake could see the soldier's back was to them. His hands shot up and out from his sides, the light glinting off the objects in them. On closer inspection, Snake could see he was holding two large machete knives. Then, the man dropped to a squatting position with one leg straight out to his side.

The first target stood up on Fox's left and his contracted leg kicked out instantly. In a flash, he had crossed past the target and the top flew off, severed at chest level. Fox brought himself to an instant halt once the cut was complete. A second target popped up across the range and, guided by the sound of it, the soldier pushed himself into a handspring. Never losing his grip on his blades and never sparing a glance at the target, Fox closed the distance and brought his "assailant" down at the neck.

Snake, awestruck, watched this dance continue for eighteen more targets. Each strike was as clean and precise as the last and, had the cardboard cutouts actually been human, each one would have pierced at least one vital organ. The fluidity in his movements was inhuman.

Snake had gravely overestimated his own abilities it appeared. Given a gun, he could probably have hit every target in the chest area before losing it, but the level of detail that went into each of Fox's kills far surpassed anything he was capable of. This was on top of his ability to catch each target at an arm's length before it was retracted. Before he knew it, the twenty targets were lying in forty pieces on the floor with Fox standing once again in the middle of the room, arms at his sides. This time, he faced them.

"You did more last time," Big Boss shouted out to him.

"I haven't eaten supper yet," came the reply from the range. Closing the distance between them, Fox re-sheathed his machetes and hopped the counter, standing face to face with Solid Snake for the first time.

His build was tall and muscular, and his skin was pale as bone. His hair was bright silver. Snake wondered if this was the reason he was called "gray," or if there was some deeper meaning to that. However, the most striking feature he noticed were the smooth patches of skin over the areas around his nose and ears. The nose looked partially reconstructed, but the ears simply weren't there. "That's quite a wound," Snake said, more thinking out loud than anything. "Where did you get it?"

Fox pinned Snake in his gaze, unblinkingly and uncomfortably. Eyeing him as he would a helpless rodent, Fox asked Big Boss, "Who is this?"

"Gray Fox, meet Solid Snake. If it's alright with you, you'll be taking him out on assignment tomorrow. Show him the ropes."

Finally peeling his eyes away from Snake, Fox looked at Big Boss and smirked. "…Snake?" Big Boss nodded and, still grinning, Fox looked back to the new recruit. "Quite the name to live up to, Solid Snake."

The two shook hands tightly, Snake still not quite sure why his code name was so important. "Thanks."

Staring into him once more, Fox answered the previous question. "My wounds are my own business. We'll have much to talk about before I take you into battle, but that is a personal question."

Big Boss took a step backwards, toward the door. "Well," he said, "you two have quite a bit to discuss, then, before tomorrow, so I take my leave. I'll see you both for briefing at 0600. And Fox…" the two looked at each other in a moment of sincerity. "…keep an eye on him."

Fox gave a sharp nod and Big Boss left the soldiers alone in the room. Looking back at Snake and pulled the machete out of his right sheath. Holding it out, handle first, his mouth lifted up into a smirk once more. "Care to try?" he asked.