MGS1英文官方小说

fengmosn

现在还算比较缩水 一天晊七打个4页左右
基本两个小时 剩下的可以自由支配

fengmosn

9

SNAK STUDIED THE aerial map of the facility on the Codec. The Nuclear Warhead Storage Building was a separate structure. He would have to return to the first level and the tank hangar to access an exit. It appeared that a narrow lengthwise canyon connected the two buildings. There was no telling what kinds of defenses the terrorists had set up outside, but one thing was certain – it would be cold. Snake was thankful for Dr. Hunter’s injection and wondered how long its effects would last.

　　Time for a cigarette. As much as he hated the kind he’d up,winced at the taste, and then punched in the code to reach masked face appeared on the Codec’s small view screen.

　　“Who is this?”

　　“You’re the colonel’s niece, Meryl, right?”

　　“I asked you a question.”

　　“I’m called Solid Snake.”

　　“You don’t say? The legendary Solid Snake?”

　　“That’s right. I’m working for your uncle.”

　　“I figured he’d send someone. I didn’t think it would be you. I thought you’d retired.”

　　“I am retired. I’m just doing this for fun.”

　　“That was you before? In the cell block?”

　　“Uh-huh.”

　　“Well, sorry about running out on you. I didn’t know who the heck you were. I didn’t want to take the chance that you were one of the bad guys. You look like -”

　　“I know. Where are you now?”

　　“I’m in the belly of the security system. I’m this close to figuring out how to hot-wire the hangar’s cargo door. It’s got a Level Five security lock on it. No one has a Level Five clearance except for the terrorists. I assume you want to get to the other buildings?”

　　“That’s affirmative.”

　　“Then you need my help. You’ll never get that door open by yourself.”

　　“I don’t know; I’m pretty good with doors. I do windows, too.”

　　“Mister, by the time you’ve found the security systerm, they’ll have already launched a nuke.”

　　This gave Snake pause. “So tell me, Meryl, what is this place,　really? It’s not just a nuclear disposal facility.”

　　“Of course not. Didn’t my uncle tell you anything?”

　　“Not enough, apparently.”

　　“This place is owned and operated by an ArmsTech dummy corporation. It’s a civilian base. For the development of the Metal Gear. Do you know what that is?”

　　“I’m, uhm, familiar with it.”

　　“This was supposed to be sort of a final test. You know, before a formal adoption of the program by the Pentagon.”

　　“I don’t like it. No government has any business fooling around with these Metal Gear contraptions. They might blow someone up.”

　　Meryl laughed. “You’re pretty funny for an ex-FOXHOUND operative.”

　　“So where are all the hostages? The facility’s employees?”

　　“I don’t know. They were rounded up and put somewhere. Some of them were interrogated, brainwashed, I don’t know …”
“Baker told me he gave you the three key cards that stop the REX from launching. Do you have them?”

　　“Hum, I have a key. He didn’t give me three.”

　　“Really? Then what was he talking about?”

　　“I have no idea. But I still have the one he gave me.”

　　“Then hang on to it. How did you manage to keep it hidden from the guards?”

　　“Uh, women have more hiding places than men.”

　　Snake almost smiled. “Do you know Doctor Emmerich?”

　　“Yeah, he designed the new REX. Nice guy.”

　　“Where is he?”

　　“Probably in the research lab of the Nuclear Warhead Storage Building. That’s across the canyon, outside, to the north. Did you bring your snow boots and winter coat?”

　　“Yes, Mom. I’m going to find him. If we can’t override the detonation code in time, maybe he knows how to destroy the back to civilization.”

　　“Oh, boy, can’t wait. Give me a few minutes. Wait for me in the hangar and I’ll go with you.”

　　“Nope. No offense, Meryl, but you don’t have enough real combat experience. I want you to find a good hiding place and concentrate on not getting caught again until I’ve sewn this place up. Then we’ll meet up and I’ll get you out of here.”

　　“Look, I’m sorry about before, you know, with my gun. I don’t know what happened; I just couldn’t pull the trigger right away. I never had any problems during training. But when I thought of bullets tearing into those soldiers’ bodies, I guess I just hesitated.”

　　“shooting at training targets and shooting at living people are very different.”

　　She sighed. “Ever since I was a little girl, I dreamed about being a soldier. All my life I trained for the day I’d see some real action, and now …”

　　“So you want to quit?”

　　“I can’t quit!”

　　“Look, Meryl. Everybody feels sick the first time they kill someone. Unfortunately, killing is one of those things that get easier the more you do it. In a war, all of humankind’s worst emotions and worst traits come out. It’s easy to forget what a sin is in the middle of a battlefield. You’re just a little jumpy from the combat high. The adrenaline in your bloodstream is starting to thin out. Just take it easy.”

　　“I learned all about combat high at the academy.”

　　“We’ll talk about it later. For now, just think about keeping yourself alive … and staying the hell out of my way.”

　　“You’re a real bastard. My uncle was right,” she said. “Look, I know my way around this place. I could be useful.”

　　“Sorry. I work alone. I wouldn’t want anything to happen to you on your uncle’s watch.”

　　Snake could feel her pouting. She was obviously still young and inexperienced in field operations. She had no idea how dangerous it really was.

　　She pulled off her mask. “All right, Snake,” she said. “I’ll be a good little girl. And maybe I’ll open the hangar cargo door for you.”

　　He was struck by her model’s good looks. He’d had no idea.

　　“What?” she asked, aware that he hadn’t said anything.

　　“Nothing. It’s just … your eyes.”

　　“My eyes?”

　　“They’re not soldier’s eyes.”

　　“Oh, right. Rookie’s eyes, huh?”

　　“No. they’re beautiful, compassionate eyes.”

　　“Hmpf. Just what I’d expect from the legendary Solid Snake. You trying to sweep me off my feet?”

　　Snake gave her a cynical laugh. “Don’t worry; you’d land right back on them as soon as you got to know me. The reality is no matche for the legend, I’m afraid. Let’s link up later. Stay put.”
Snake clicked off and moved toward the freight elevator. He took it to Level 1, stood to the side of the car so that he wouldn’t be seen when the doors opened, and waited. He heard nothing nearby, so he cautiously slipped out of the lift and hugged the wall.

　　The tank hangar was as he’d left it except for one significant change. One of the Abrams tanks was gone.



THE GIANT STOOD on a glacier that jutted out over the side of the canyon and eyed the building that housed the tank hangar. So far the door had remained closed.

　　The canyon was the size of an American football field, approximately a hundred yards between the hangar building and the Nuclear Warhead Storage structure. The snow had continued to fall at a steady pace, covering the canyon floor with a minimum of two feet, but weather reports predicted severe blizzard conditions within hours. At the moment, though, the atmospheric state was nothing out of the ordinary for Shadow Moses Island. For a small island in the Aleutian chain that stretched from Alaska to Russia, adverse climate was par for the course. The giant wondered why the U.S. government would build a facility in such a remote and harsh location. But his was not to question the antics of American politicians and military commanders. Even though he was an American politicians and military commanders. Even through he was an American by birth, his allegiance was to Russians, for whom he had worked for years. Since the fall of the Soviet Union, the giant had worked for hire. The “new” FOXHOUND was just as good an employer as anyone. At least he would see some action … soon.
A large black bird circled the glacier and eventually landed on the giant’s shoulder. Vulcan Raven reached into a pocket and pulled out a handful of dried fruit pieces. He held it to the raven and allowed it to feed. The bird dug in even though it preferred fresh carrion.

　　“Patience, my friend,” the Alaskan said. “The time is near. Very soon we will see the enemy emerge from those doors. Then we will join our comrades in the tank and commence battle. The ancestors will be proud of our victory today.”

　　Vulcan Raven looked down onto the canyon floor, where the M1 abrams sat. the two gunners were already in position inside the vehicle. They were ordinary genome troopers who had no wish to bear the brunt of the cold weather. The climate didn’t bother Vulcan Raven. He could survive for days in subzero temperatures. He wasn’t half Alaskan Indian and half Inuit Eskimo for nothing. His immense size also contributed to the way his body generated warmth. He was a walking, breathing energy source.

　　“I suppose we should climb down the glacier now. what do you think, my friend?” he asked the bird. The raven squawked, finished the sample of dried fruit, and lifted off to hover over its master’s head. The giant picked up his gatling gun, a 20-mmM61A1 Vulcan that he could wield by hand as if it were a popgun, and sling it over his shoulder, before descending the cliff, he touched the birthmark on his forehead. The elder shamans had taught him from an early age that he had been born with the mark of destiny. Eskimos and Indians worshipped ravens, and Vulcan Raven happened to enter the world with the shape power derived from the birthmark. Whenever he became excited, such as in the heat of battle, the mark disappeared and his senses were heightened to inhuman levels. But Vulcan Raven’s size and birthmark were not the only things about him hat intimidated enemies. His imposing petroglyphs copied from prehistoric Indian ruins. The makings resembled circuit wiring, which Vulcan found ironic. Even two thousand years ago, the ancient shamans had foreseen the coming of the age of electronics.
“Let’s go, friend.”

　　The raven floated alongside him as the giant began his descent.

wildmetal

真不简单，加油阿

fengmosn

SNAKE VENTURED FARTHER into the hangar and immediately became aware of a genome guard on the catwalk to his left. He froze, hoping that the man hadn’t seen him. In the shadowy lighting, Snake’s suit could blend into his surroundings, but movement would give him away. (Snake wished his suit really could blend into his surroundings!)

　　The guard walked along the catwalk, stopped at the rail, and lit a cigarette.

　　The bozo hasn’t seen me. Good.

　　Snake waited until the guard turned to continue his patrol in the other direction. As soon as the man’s back as to him, Snake moved against the wall, out of the guard’s sight lines. He then slipped toward the metal staircase. His plan was to get rid of the guard, check to make sure there weren’t any others in the hangar, and then be ready for the slatted cargo door to roll up. If Meryl was as good as she claimed she was.

　　The operative crept silently up the stairs and reached the catwalk. The guard was walking slowly toward him, so Snake stayed on the top steps, below the levl of the mesh walk. He listened carefully for the sound of the boots approaching. Six feet …four feet …two feet…
　　
　　Snake reached up and grabbed the man by the ankles and pulled. The soldier fell flat on his back, generating an unwanted loud clang on the metal walk. Snake quickly leaped up onto the platform and stomped on the guard’s face. A second kick to the side of the head and the man was in dreamland.

　　He whirled around and surveyed the entire hangar from the advantageous height. There was no other movement. He could see, however, the tracks left by the missing Abrams tank. It had been driven from its position on the floor to the roll-up cargo door. It assuredly was waiting for him outside.

　　Snake descended the stairs and ran to the egress. He quickly punched in Meryl’s frequency code.

　　“What?”

　　“I’m waiting.”

　　“Hold your horses. I’ve just about got it.”

　　The mechanism in the wall clicked on and whirred as the slatted door lifted and rolled up into the ceiling. A blast of cold air wafted into the hangar.

　　“Do I get a gold star?” Meryl asked.

　　“I’m impressed. Can you cook, too?”

　　“I make a mean western omelet.”

　　“I’ll take you up on that in another time and another place. Now stay put.”

　　“Right.”

　　She disconnected as Snake peered into the dark tunnel that stretched from the hangar to the outside opening. It was tall and wide enough for a tank to pass through, was about sixty feet long, and emptied onto a snow-covered field. He took a step forward-
“Snake! Don’t move!”

　　It was Mei Ling.

　　“Why not?”

　　“Put on your thermals!”

　　He did so and immediately understood the team’s concern. An elaborate mesh of minute lasers, unseen by the naked eye, crossed the tunnel horizontally. They each moved up and down vertically at different speeds. Tripping one or more would certainly set off alarms or worse.

　　Campbell spoke. “Snake, our intelligence from the Knee Cap reports that the loading ramp to the hangar, where you are now, had been outfitted with nerve gas. You can probably see laser trip beams that -”

　　“I see them, Colonel.”

　　“Then avoid them at all costs. The tunnel would seal off, the gas would be released, and you’d be dead in minutes.”

　　“You always have such cheery news.”

　　“Just giving you a heads-up, soldier.” Snake could hear the attempt in the colonel’s voice to lighten the tension that had risen between them earlier. He wasn’t having any of it. Snake didn’t care of the way Campbell was handling the mission. He liked being told everything there was to know before going in, and the colonel hadn’t leveled with him. There were still a lot of things Snake didn’t understand about the undertaking. If Jim Houseman really was overseeing the entire operation, it was possible that even the colonel didn’t know all the facts. Snake supposed he should give Campbell the benefit of the doubt, but he wasn’t going to.

　　The thermal goggles clearly delineated the laser beams. The first one moved at a fairly slow speed. It was a simple procedure to wait until the line was just over his head and then slip than two feet away from the first. It also had an erratic vertical pattern – it didn’t just go up and down; it went up a little ways, then down a bit, up some more, down a lot, up even higher … It was unpredictable. Snake had to stand completely straight and pause until the beam was early touching the floor. Before the laser rose again, he stepped over it and walked forward out of harm’s way.

　　The mesh configuration continued for another thirty feet. The up-and-down patterns were more complex as he progressed. The intervals between lasers also varied; some were close together and others a fair distance apart to give an intruder a false sense of safe passage.

　　Snake punched Meryl’s code on the Codec.

　　“What?” she said, feigning annoyance.

　　“Sorry to bother you, but while you’re up in the security system, can yo fid a way to turn off these stupid lasers?”

　　“Sorry, Snake, I already checked. There’s no way. You really do have to have a Level Five security card, and the only place you can turn then off is there at the door.”

　　“Okay, I was just checking.”

　　“You’ll make it through okay?”

　　“Don’t worry about me.”

　　“I won’t. I’ll meet you at the storage building.”

　　“What?”

　　“I said I know my way around. See ya!”

　　“Meryl! I told you to stay put!”

　　“I changed my mind.”

　　“Don’t do something stupid!”

　　“Sorry, but this is the only way I can find out if I’m cut out to be a soldier. I gotta get my hands dirty! See ya there!” and she was gone.

　　Great. That’s all I need.

　　If it turned out she knew another way to get to the storage building, he was going to have her hide. But first, the task at hand.
Snake studied the patterns of the next three lasers and determined that he would have to traverse the closest two without stopping in between them. They were only a foot apart, and ad problem was that when one of the lasers was at a height over his head, the other one was at thigh level and moved too quickly for him to slip between the two. He would have to crawl under both, and he had a mere two seconds to do it.

　　He crouched, studied the pattern for another few moments, and then lay parallel to the beams. As soon as the second laser left the floor, Snake rolled like a log, cleared both beams, quickly jumped to his feet, and then leaped over the third laser.

　　Two more to go. These crossed each other; One was at the top while the other was at the bottom, and then they met in the lifted one leg high, and hurdled over the bottom beam.

　　He was clear. The icy wind was strong at the opening, and massive drifts of snow covered the field. Maneuvering through the deep stuff would be slow going and ponderous. But he had no alternative.

　　And somewhere in the blinding weather was a deadly armored tank.

fengmosn

10

SNAKE STEPPED INTO the knee-high snow and moved to the side of the open door, hugging the wall to stay out of sight.

　　The Codec beeped. Snake glanced at it and was surprised to see that it was a nonburst transmission. That meant it wasn’t from Campbell or the others.

　　“Who is this?” he answered.

　　“A friend.” It was a male voice, deep and controlled.

　　“Can you be more specific?”

　　“Snake, you must be careful in the canyon. There are Claymore mines planted at various locations. You have a mine detector?”

　　“Yes. Who is this?”

　　“Use the mine detector to pinpoint the Claymores. Stay out of their sensor range.”

　　“I know how to use it. Tell me who you are, damn it!”

　　“Consider me a fan. You can call me …Deepthroat.”

　　The transmission clicked off. Snake attempted to bring up the frequency code of the last incoming call, but the digital readout simply read 0.

　　What the hell?

　　Nevertheless, if the fellow was being straight with him, Snake’s life might have been saved. He opened a side pocket of the utility belt and removed the ArmsTech Pathtracker 3000, a handy tool that located unexploded mines and bombs by picking up radio waves from buried devices. Once the detector scrambled a mine’s signal, the user could disarm or detonate the explosive from a safe distance. Snake held the machine, which was the size of a deck of cards, and flicked it on. He extended the antenna and pointed it at the ground in front of him.

　　The outlines of three Claymore mines materialized on the screen. One was very close, about ten feet away from the hangar entrance. Two more were ten feet beyond that, nearly side by side. He would have to get farther onto the field to detect any more.
He turned the frequency knob and pointed the antenna at the spot where the first mine was buried. A green indicator light was supposed to brighten when the explosive was disarmed, but nothing happened. Snake wasn’t sure if the two feet of snow had had an impact on the unit’s functionality; perhaps it had. The best thing to do would be to avoid the area altogether.

　　Snake moved to the left side of the canyon and trudged to the north along the rock cliff. The wind wasn’t as strong and visibility was better next to the wall. Could he cross the entire field by staying on that course?

　　The answer came when the Pathtracker picked up a series of Claymores blocking his way. Once again he attempted to disarm them, but it was no go. He would have to move back toward the center of the field to go around them, out where he would be a sitting duck.

　　Snake put on his sun goggles to keep the wind out of his eyes, donned a pair of thermal gloves, and set out.

　　It took nearly twenty minutes to make the journey to the center of the canyon. Most of the Claymores had been concentrated in the first fifty yards, and now it seemed that the rest of the way was clear. Snake felt like Doctor Zhivago as he fought the harsh, frigid wind and plodded forward. He could have used a wool scarf and a down jacket, but Dr. Hunter’s nanomachines were doing a good job of keeping him warm. The worst part was the tedious traipsing through the deep snow. It was harder work than climbing a steep hill.

　　“This is Raven’s territory! Snake do not belong in Alaska! You will not pass!”

　　The deep voice resonated through the air, carried by the wind. It came from a loudspeaker somewhere up ahead. Snake squinted through the goggles and made out a dark, bulky shape that was growing larger.

　　The Abrams tank was coming his way.

　　Snake took the scope from his utility belt and focysed it on the armored monstrosity. A very large man with a bird painted on his forehead sat in the turret. No- it was a tattoo or a birthmark.

　　Vulcan Raven, the shaman giant, in the flesh.

　　Before Snake could begin to plan a defensive strategy, the tank’s 105-mm M68 rifled gun fired a shell at him. The only thing he could do was leap sideways as hard as he could and burrow himself as deeply into the snow as possible.

　　The explosion rocked the world around him. He felt his body being lifted and then slapped into the air. He landed with a thud despite the snow’s cushion. For a moment Snake saw stars, and there was a tremendously painful ringing in his ears.

　　Vulcan Raven laughed boisterously. “That’s right! You should crawl on the ground like the snake you are!”

　　The voice reminded him where he was. Snake quickly took stock of his arms and legs and determined that everything was still there. He carefully flexed each appendage and was grateful that nothing had been broken or torn by shrapnel. The ringing in his ears subsided but remained a steady annoyance.

　　He had been damned lucky.

　　The ground trembled below him, and he heard the Abrams’s engine coming closer. This time, the tank’s 12.7-mm machine gun rattled the snow around him. If anything was going to make him move his ass, that was it.

　　Snake got up and forced himself to leave the spot where he had fallen. It was impossible to run; it was like walking through molasses. What was he going to do?

　　Yet another lesson from Master Miller came back to him. It was an appropriate one, too, for it concerned a battle between a man with few defenses and a powerful giant.

　　“Do you remember the story of David and Goliath?” miller had asked the class of trainees. “David was a young Israelite lad, strong enough, but no match for the powerful Philistine warrior Goliath. The giant was armed with a sword and a club and armor and brute strength. David had nothing but a slingshot. But he used his wits to defeat Goliath. How did he do that? By invoking the principle that something small can often penetrate large defenses. So he placed a pebble in his sling, spun it in order to increase its speed and force, and flung the stone at the giant’s face. The rock struck Goliath between the eyes and killed him. Of course, it helped that David was a damned good shot! So let this be a lesson to you – know how to use your weapons expertly but also know when to use them. There is a time and place for every offense, no matter how small, and no matter how big the defense.”

　　Snake smiled at the memory. He knew exactly what he had to do.

　　The tank roared closer as Vulcan Raven’s voice boomed: “We shall toy with you a little longer, Snake. Only when you’ve had enough will I deliver the killing blow!”

　　Snake dived into the snow and dug deep until he felt the icy ground. Luckily, the snow was fairly soft, enabling him to tunnel his way toward the tank below the surface on his hands and knees. He could imagine what Vulcan Raven must be thinking as the giant searched the field for a sign of his prey. The snake truly had become a creature close to the earth. But unlike his cold-blooded namesakes, Solid Snake was a warm-blooded mammal who could withstand the frosty temperature below the snow’s surface.
When the tank sounded as if was rolling on its treads a mere few feet from him, Snake reached into the pouch and took out one of the frag grenades. Holding it firmly in hand, he stood, broke through the snow, and faced the oncoming juggernaut. He was at its broadside, about ten feet away. A gunner was in the turret next to Vulcan Raven, operating the smaller machine gun. He clearly heard the giant say, “Is that him? Over there?”

　　The gunner fired a burst of ammunition at a target perpendicular to and thirty feet away from where Snake was standing. He had fooled them. Snake pulled the grenade’s pin with his teeth, counted to five, and tossed the pineapple at the gunner. He then turned and ran- trudged, rather- through the thick snow,  moving away from the vehicle. The ensuing blast, which must have occurred in front of the gunner’s face, sent the man flying into the air. His lifeless rag doll body plopped into the snow directly in front of Snake.

　　Snake turned to see that a billow of black smoke now covered the top of he turret. After a moment, the dark cloud dissipated and Vulcan Raven’s head jutted out of the turret. He appeared to be unharmed. Snake figured that the giant must have ducked into his compartment inside the tank just as the grenade detonated.

fengmosn

　　“Damn you!” the shaman called.

　　Snake turned to the dead gunner and quickly searched inside the man’s fur=lined coat. There were two more frag grenades attached to the guard’s belt as well as a SIG Sauer handgun. Snake ignored the gun and took the grenades. As an afterthought, he went through the man’s pockets and found a key card. It was identical to the one Anderson had given him – a PAN – only this one was marked as a Level 3.

　　Brilliant!

　　He stuck the card in his pocket and dived under the snow once again.

　　“You cannot hide forever! I know where you are!”

　　Machine-gun bullets strafed the drifts, coming too close for comfort. Snake’s ruse had worked the first time, but it wasn’t going to deceive the giant any longer. So instead of crawling forward in the snow, Snake retreated into one of the “tunnels” he had created earlier. While the shaman ineffectually shot up the snow close to the Abrams, Snake put distance between them.
Time for a new plan.

　　He stood and saw that the tank was twenty-five feet away, facing south. A second gunner had joined Vulcan Raven on the turret. The shaman manned the larger machine gun and operated the tank while the trooper blasted the snow with the 7.62-mm gun.
“Where is he?” Raven shouted at the gunner. “Find him! You let him get away!”

　　Snake had a clear shot at the turret from where he was standing. He drew the SOCOM, stood in a Weaver stance, drew a bead on the gunner, and fired. The man shuddered, cried out, and then slumped over the turret. Raven turned just in time to face an oncoming bullet from the SOCOM, but he eluded it with a subtle shift of his body. Snake’s mouth dropped in surprise. The man was unbelievably quick. Snake figured that it must have something to do with his alleged mystical powers.

　　By then the shaman had swung the 12.7-mm machine gun toward Snake and let loose a volley of hellfire. Snake jumped into the snow, dug deep, and clutched the frozen ground; he knew it was only a matter of seconds before he would be hit. It was all over. He would die there in the snow-covered canyon, the terrorists would launch a nuclear weapon, and the world would never be the same.

　　But then the machine-gun dire abruptly stopped.

　　What had happened?

　　Snake dared to the thrust his head up to the surface to look. Vulcan Raven was working frantically on the machine gun. Since both of his gunners were dead, the giant had no one to act as a loader. This was Snake’s chance.

　　Using all the leg strength he could muster, Snake plodded through the thick snow toward the tank. As he ran, he reached into the pouch and retrieved another frag grenade. When he was fifteen feet away, he pulled the pin and tossed the explosive into the tank’s treads. He dived sideways into the frost, covered his head with his hands, and endured the repercussion of the blast. This time he felt the heat and a bit of debris fall into the pocket of snow where he lay..

　　After a moment he hoisted himself up to survey the damage. The Abrams was immobile, one tread completely blown off the wheels.

　　It was time for the David and Goliath maneuver.

　　He plucked another grenade from the pouch, slogged through the snow toward the rear of the tank, pulled the pin, and tossed it up at Vulcan Raven, who was too busy struggling with the machine gun to notice that his prey was behind him. The grenade dropped into the compartment – a better bull’s eye Snake couldn’t have asked for. Snake turned and trudged ad fast as he could away from the Abrams.

　　The explosion shook the entire canyon.


　　LIQUID SNAKE SAT in the Shadow Moses director’s office and watched his nemesis walk away from the burning tank. He sighed heavily and then glanced over at Revolver Ocelot, who was resting on a couch. The gunslinger’s right arm was heavily bandaged. The painkillers had done the trick, and now Ocelot was eager to close the distance between FOXHOUND and Snake.

　　“He got away, didn’t he?” Ocelot remarked. “Let me try again. I’ll kill the bastard.”

　　Liquid held up his had. “Quiet.” He gestured to the screen. Vulcan Raven could be seen, miraculously crawling out of the wreck unscathed.

　　“He’s still in range,” the giant said. “Shall I destroy him?”
Liquid pressed the button on his communicator to speak. “No. Let him go.”

　　“Are you certain?”

　　“But keep an eye on him.”

　　“He got the card.”

　　“I know. We’ll play with him a little longer.”

　　Ocelot stood and whispered, “Are you mad? The man’s dangerous!”

　　Liquid shot Ocelot a look that gave the gunslinger no choice but to sit down and shut up.

　　Vulcan Raven said, “You would do best not to underestimate him, Boss.”

　　“What did you think of him?” Liquid asked. “In battle, that is.”

　　“He is just as you said. It’s as if he is possessed by a demon.” Much like you. I would expect no less, considering your relationship.

　　“Yes. I told you so. But don’t worry. I will kill him.”

　　“Is Ocelot with you?”

　　“Yes.”

　　“Revolver Ocelot!” the giant called. “I understand he took your hand and your dignity!”

　　“Watch your mouth, shaman!” ocelot called from the couch. “It was that blasted ninja that took may hand, but it was Snake who distracted me. I could outgun you anytime, anywhere – with or without my right hand.”

　　“Let me tell you something about our intruder friend. In the Sioux language, Sioux means ‘snake.’ It is known as an animal to be feared.”

　　Ocelot sneered. “Well, I fear nothing, especially Solid Snake! He is mine now. when we next meet, I will take special care of him.”
Vulcan Raven spit. “The raven on my head thirsts for his blood. Snake and I will battle again. Of that you can be sure.”

　　Liquid switched off the communicator. “He is a formidable enemy. The next several hours are going to be most interesting, eh, Ocelot?”

　　“What is it you hope to gain from him? He is a pest. Swat him down!”

　　“Not yet, my friend. I still have plans for him.”

　　“Why do you let him live, Boss?”

　　The FOXHOUND leader’s eyes flared. “I have my reasons.”

fengmosn

11

“SNAKE?” IT WAS MEYRL, calling him on the Codec.
Snake was just about to enter the Nuclear Warhead Storage Building at the north end of the canyon. His body and suit were soaking wet from being in the snow, and he looked forward to warming up.

　　He pushed the button to accept the frequency and spoke.
　　
　　“Where are you, Meryl?”

　　“I’m in the subbasement of the nuke building.” There was a hint of one-upmanship in her voice.

　　“What the …? How did you get there?”

　　“I told you I know my way around this place.”

　　“Well, why didn’t you let me in on it? Do you realize what I just went through in that damned canyon?”

　　“Snake, relax. You couldn’t have gone the way I did. I’m dressed as one of them, remember? I got into a transport with ten other troopers. They drove the long way around, on a snow-covered road. I kept my mask on and wore a helmet. They didn’t have a clue who I was.”

　　“You’re mad, Meryl. They could have easily caught you again.”

　　“Well, they didn’t. so where are you?”

　　“I’m just entering the nuke building now.”

　　“Yeah? Well, be careful. For heaven’s sake, don’t use your weapon in there. It’s full of decaying nuclear waster and warheads. So no firepower, okay? No bullets, no grenades, no nothing! One spark and ka-boom!”

　　“I got you. Thanks for the heads-up. Now, I want you to stay put somewhere until I can find you.”

　　“I’m on the Basement One level. Just take the elevator, but watch out for guards. They’re roaming all over the place up there where you are. Out.”

　　She signed off, and Snake shook his head. Of course she was Roy Campbell’s niece. She was just as stubborn and full of herself as the colonel had always been. But even though she was green, Snake had to admit she had a lot of balls. He’d never encountered a young woman who was as brave and determined as she.

　　He was beginning to like her.

　　Stop that. Concentrate on the task at had.

　　Snake wanted to hit himself for allowing his thoughts to roam in that direction. A love life was something he didn’t need. He’d had his fair share of romantic disasters, and he wasn’t about to get himself involved with a girl more than a decade younger than he. That was the path to catastrophe.

　　Perhaps.


　　SNAKE USED THE Level 3 PAN card to open the slatted door, which was similar to the tank hangar exit. Before any guards could notice, he slipped into the building at the corner of the opening and quickly rushed to the left wall, next to a metal ramp ascending to the main floor of the storage facility. Standing in the shadows, he watched as three guards appeared at the door, wondering why it had opened suddenly.

　　He breathed slowly and deeply. Snake refused to be seen.

　　“Must have malfunctioned,” one of the guards said.

　　“There was some kind of accident out there, did you hear? One of the tanks was destroyed.”

　　A man pushed a button, and the door rolled down, totally secure. “Our new bosses like to play with matches. You play with matches, you start fires.”

　　They began to walk up the ramp to the main floor. “You don’t like our new bosses?”

　　“I didn’t say that. Things are a lot more exciting around here since they took over. I was about to die of boredom before.”
They laughed and disappeared. Snake relaxed and moved to the end of the ramp, got on his hands and knees, and crawled far enough so that he could lift his head over the edge of the floor and give it a quick reconnaissance.

　　Meryl was right. The place was littered with troopers. They all wore gas masks along with their standard-issue uniforms. Snake figured the place was booby-trapped with nerve gas, just like the tank hangar exit. The terrorists weren’t taking any chances. He couldn’t imagine this kind of security in place when the civilians were running the base. Either Liquid was a masochist or he was incredibly paranoid.

　　One thing he could do was use the chaff grenades. They didn’t do incendiary damage and were good for diversionary tactics. Snake glanced at the ceiling and saw several surveillance cameras trained on different areas of the space. The chaffs definitely would jam them. The grenades did make noise, so the question was how many guards would come running. Was it worth the risk? Snake couldn’t see any other way to get through the storage facility to the other side of the room where the elevator was. He had to take the chance.

　　He dug a chaff grenade out of the pouch, pulled the pin, and rolled it across the floor. It stopped not quite in the middle of the room, in between insulated tanks marked HAZARDOUS. Five seconds elapsed, and the grenade’s blast made all the guards in the place jump out of their skins.

　　Suddenly it was like a beehive that had been poked with a stick. The men immediately began to run around and shout at one another. They naturally assumed that the grenade had come from the entrance area, so Snake quickly hopped up onto the floor, scooted left, and ran between rows of storage boxes. An empty cardboard container the size of a large television set was among them; he jumped inside and pulled the flaps down over his head. He crouched there in the box and remained still as two guards rushed past him. Once the sound of footsteps had diminished, he opened the flaps and climbed out of the container.

　　Then he saw them.

　　Lying in berths on the left side of the room were two dismantled ICBM missiles. They were each a little over six meters long and looked as if they actually had seen some action. The exterior surfaces were beaten and scratched, secondhand relics of Cold War design and development.

　　Near them, in open containers marked DANGER-RADIATION, were objects that Snake recognized as warheads. They appeared to be weather-beaten as well. Snake reckoned that they were all useless; after all, Shadow Moses was a disposal facility. But he supposed the terrorists must have the means to extract the plutonium or make at least one operational.

　　Not good.

　　Using his Codec in camera mode, Snake snapped several shots of the arsenal for posterity and also transmitted them to Nastasha Romanenko. A few seconds later, she appeared on the Codec.
“Thank you for the photographs, Snake,” she said. “You do not have to worry about the warheads. They are not functional.”
“But if they wanted to dispose of them,” Snake asked, “why wouldn’t they just dismantle them right away?”

　　“They cannot do that. You see, when you dismantle a warhead, you still have nuclear materials that must be stored. At this point, all the nuclear material storage facilities are way past capacity. But they could not stop dismantling weapons while at the same time pushing the START-II treaty.”

　　“So you’re telling me that this base was built so they could temporarily avoid being in conflict with START-II?”

　　“Most people think that we live in a safer world now. but with all the dismantled nuclear weapons and waste around, the threat of nuclear terrorism has increased tremendously.”

　　Snake grunted in acknowledgment.

　　The Ukrainian woman went on. “After the START-II accord was signed in 1993, Russia and the U.S. reduced their strategic nuclear warheads to between three thousand and thirty-five hundred each. They completely dismantled all the ICBMs that contained multiple independently targeted reentry vehicles. As a result of that, there are over fifteen thousand dismantled nuclear warheads waiting to be disposed of. That is why the Shadow Moses facility was built.”

fengmosn

　　
　　“Nastasha, you’re a walking encyclopedia,” Snake said.

　　“Uh, I will take that as a compliment, Snake. I think.”

　　She sighed off, and Snake moved along the storage boxes, headed for the north side of the room and the elevator- and came face-to-face with a guard who had just turned the corner.

　　“Hey-” the man managed to say before Snake delivered a one-two-three punch-punch-kick combination that finished the sentence for the surprised trooper.

　　Snake pulled the limp body between the boxes and dumped it on the floor. That had been too close. Time for another diversion. He drew another chaff grenade from the pouch, pulled the pin, and threw it high over the storage boxes, toward the center of the room. The thing exploded in midair, causing all kinds of commotion. Snake creepy forward, utilizing the dart-and –freeze method of advancing within an enemy-occupied environment.

　　At the north end of the rows of storage boxes, Snake encountered two troopers standing at the bottom of a flight of metal stairs that led to a catwalk.

　　“Stay here and kill anything that moves,” one said to the other. He left the man alone and then joined his comrades in another part of the space.

　　The long trooper was between Snake and the elevator. Snake ducked behind a stack of boxes and pulled two SOCOM cartridges from his pouch. He tossed one across the aisle and hit a different pile of cartons; then it bounced onto the floor with a clatter. The trooper by the elevator turned toward the sound. He wasn’t sure what he had heard. Snake tossed the second bullet, repeating the noise. This time the guard had to investigate. He readied his assault rifle and slowly walked to the head of the aisle. Snake remained hidden behind the first stack of boxes, but the guard focused his attention on the second pile, from where the noise had come. The man stepped slowly toward the boxes and eventually turned his back to Snake.

　　The stranglehold worked like a charm.

　　Snake left the guard on the floor and ran to the end of the row of cartons. It was a clear path to the elevator. He dashed to the wall, pressed the call button, and withstood the excruciating few seconds it took for the elevator to arrive. The doors opened, and Snake slipped in without any of the other troopers noticing. He pressed the B1 button and waited for the doors to close before contacting Meryl with the Codec.

　　She didn’t answer.

　　Uh-oh.

　　Had something happened to her? He dared not think about it.
The doors opened to a hallway perpendicular to the elevator. He held them open the check for guards, but all he saw was a surveillance camera on the ceiling, pointed at the elevator. He quickly pulled back out of view, let the doors close, and pulled the emergency shutoff button so that the elevator couldn’t be called to another floor. Snake fitted the suppressor onto the SOCOM, checked the magazine, and then flicked the elevator switch back on. He assumed a firing stance and hit the open door button with his elbow. The doors opened, and he fired a silenced round at the camera, obliterating it.

　　He stepped out into the hallway and listened for activity. There was some muffled talking somewhere on the floor, and he heard a toilet flush behind the door marked MEN at the end of the hall to his right. Snake hurried to the bathroom door, pushed it open, and went inside.

　　A guard had just finished doing his business and was about to exit a stall. Snake rushed into the adjacent stall and waited. As soon as the man walked out, Snake grabbed him, performed his signature choke hold, and pulled the body back into the stall. He sat the man on the toilet and flushed the commode. Then he flushed it a second time for grins.

　　“It’s a long way to Washington,” he quipped.

　　Snake cautiously stepped out of the washroom and was headed for the other end of the hallway when his Codec chirped. His heart filled with joy when he saw the caller’s frequency code.

　　“Master Miller! My, my, it’s really great to hear from you.”

　　“Likewise, Snake. It’s been a long time. Having any fun yet?” the man’s face on the Codec monitor was a sight for sore eyes. He looked pretty much the same; he was even wearing his trademark sunglasses.

　　“You know I am, sir. The colonel said you might be on hand.”

　　“Indeed I am.”

　　“Well, there’s no one I’d rather be in a foxhole with than you.”

　　Miller’s transmission started to break up. “Listen … after… for the FOXHOUND guys to …”

　　“Master Miller? I’m losing you. Can you read me?”

　　“…again. I’m sorry. Is that better?”

　　“Yeah. Where are you?”

　　“In my cabin in Alaska.”

　　“Right. I heard you retired. Like me.”

　　“It’s great, isn’t it? Just me and my huskies. But listen … tell you …”

　　“You’re breaking up again. Master Miller?”

　　“… in the office on your floor. The subbasement of the …”

　　“What?”

　　“… sorry. There. Transmissions aren’t very good from the middle of nowhere. That’s better. I wanted to tell you that you’re going to need a rocket launcher on the Basement TWO level, and you can find one on the floor you’re on.”

　　“How do you know that?”

　　“Hey, I’m Master Miller. Remember?”

　　Snake creased his brow. Something wasn’t right. “Go on.”

　　“Anyway, you remember how to operate the remote-controlled minirecon missiles for a Nikita Personal Remote Rocket Launcher?”

　　“I’m pretty sure I do.”

　　“There’s a Nikita in the office marked B4. there’s ammo in there, too. Get what you can carry and head down to the next basement level. You should be able to find Doctor Emmerich there.”
Master Miller was surprisingly up to speed on what Snake was doing. “Okey. Thanks.”

　　“Good luck, Snake. We’ll catch up later.”

　　“Master Mill -” But the transmission ended.

　　Strange.

　　Master Miller wasn’t particularly the talkative type, but he was usually more specific about his instructions. Nevertheless, Snake thought it best to heed the man’s advice and find the rocket launcher. He hugged the wall in the hallway, SOCOM in hand, and turned the corner. A row of office doors lined the corridor, starting with B1.B4 was in the middle of the hall and required the Level 3 PAN card to open the lock. Snake swiped the card and heard the gratifying click. He pushed open the door to see –

　　A genome trooper working at a desk! The man registered surprise and reflexively reached for a button to sound an alarm.
Snake pointed the SOCOM and fired. The round struck the man squarely in the forehead, and he and his chair fell back onto the floor with a crash.

　　Snake quickly stepped into the room and shut the door. Sure enough, in an open portable carrying case that sat on a worktable was the Nikita. Alongside it was a box of shells. The Nikita was an ingenious device, a somewhat bulky but manageable rocket launcher shaped like a short, stubby bazooka that was held on one’s shoulder and supported with both hands. Snake didn’t particularly want to lug the thing around, but if Master Miller said he needed it, that was what he would do. Snake performed a cursory search of the office and also found a gas mask in one of the desk drawers. Figuring it might come in handy, he slung it around his neck but kept it off his face for now.

fengmosn

　　Armed with his new toys, Snake opened the office door, peered out to an empty hallway, and swiftly moved back to the elevator. Once inside, he pressed the B2 button, slung the Nikita over his shoulder, and readied the SOCOM.

　　The doors opened to another hallway perpendicular to the elevator. Snake carefully stepped out, made sure there were no patrolling guards, and moved toward the left. A sigh on the wall indicated that following the corridor would take one to the laboratory. Snake continued in that direction and soon came to an archway. The hallway continued beyond the arch, but the floor on the other side was made of metal mesh rather than being a carpeted floor.

　　Odd.

　　Snake took a step toward the arch, and suddenly the air quality changed. Minute yellow particles blew into the corridor from vents in the ceiling and floated in font of him the way dust is visible in a beam of sunlight. The lack of odor suggested to Snake that the hallway was filling with sarin nerve gas. The only sensible thing to do was to get the hell out of there by running as quickly as possible through the arch and across the metal floor to the far end of the corridor.

　　Another coincidence- it was Snake’s lucky day. He donned the gas mask but decided to take no chances and rush through the hall any way. He almost stepped through the arch when- the hall anyway. He almost stepped through the arch when-

　　“Snake! Don’t move!”

　　Snake recognized the voice as belonging to the mysterious Deepthroat. “You again?”

　　“Don’t take another step! The floor in front of you is electrified!”

　　“Terrific. What am I supposed to do?

　　“You’ll need to turn off the electricity.”

　　“Okay. Want to tell me where the circuit breaker is?”

　　“Unfortunately, it’s at the end of the hallway in front of you.”

　　“Oh, well, that’s convenient, isn’t it?”

　　“Look at the corridor. At the end, it jogs to the left. See?”

　　“Uh- huh.”

　　“It then doubles back, parallel to the wall on your left side. Like the queue for a ride at an amusement park.”

　　“Okey, it’s U-shaped.”

　　“The high-voltage switchboard is at the end of that part of the hall.”

　　Snake looked at the wall to his left. “So do I blow a hole in this wall with a grenade? Will that work?”

　　“No. it’s too thick. Even a Claymore mine won’t help you. You’ll have to use a remote-controlled missile.”

　　Snake nodded to himself. The Nikita. Master Miller was right.
He was extremely impressed by the elaborate defenses the FOXHOUND renegades had set up to protect their so-called revolt. Even the training exercises Snake had undergone when he first had become an operative had not been as diabolical as this.

　　He loaded the portable rocket launcher with one of the recon missiles and turned on the remote radar screen, the Nikita allowed the user to set a flight path for the missile and then guide it with the remote control. Because the missile and the obviously traveled very fast, it took an experienced eye and nimble fingers to steer the shell accurately to the intended target. Snake had practiced with the Nikita at FOXHOUND headquarters for three months until Master Miller had given him acceptable marks. It wasn’t easy.

　　Snake needed to punch a figure for the proposed range. “Uhm, Deppthroat?”

　　“Yes, Snake?”

　　“Do you know how many meters it is from me to the switch board?”

　　“Sorry, Snake. I don’t have a clue.”

　　He did his best to estimate the number. Using the two knobs, he then drew onto the view screen a digital line that represented the missile’s planned trajectory. He couldn’t afford to miss, as the ensuing explosion surely would alert the bad guys and he’d need a place to run. He didn’t particularly want to step onto an electrified walkway.

　　Snake double-checked the calculations, flipped off the safety, and held the launcher as steady as he could.

　　“One shot. Here goes,” he said.

　　Snake liked the fact that the Nikita had no kick. The launcher tube rested on his shoulder as the missile shot out of launcher tube rested on his shoulder as the missile shot out of the gun, soared through the arch and down the hall, and then made a ninety-degree left turn at the end. The shell disappeared from his sight, but Snake could hear the thing whoosh through the hallway on the other side of the wall.

　　The explosion rocked the entire floor. Snake supported himself against the right wall, and in a few seconds it was all over. All the fluorescent lights in the hallway ceiling went out, plunging the place into darkness. Two seconds later, emergency lighting kicked in.
Had he succeeded? Snake could see that the gas had stopped pouring out of the vents, but he was reluctant to remove the gas mask just yet. He carefully stepped through the arch and placed a foot on the metal mesh.

　　Nothing happened.

　　“Deepthroat? You still there?”

　　“Yes, Snake.”

　　“How did you know about this? And how the hell did you know what my position was?”

　　“Sorry, that’s on a need-to-know basis. And you don’t need to know.”

　　“Damn it, who are you?”

　　“Be careful. It’s not over yet.”

　　And the stranger’s transmission ended.

　　Snake punched in Mei Ling’s frequency.

　　“Yes, Snake.”

　　“Are you aware of these transmissions I’m receiving? From someone named Deepthroat?”

　　“Yes. We can’t determine where they’re coming from.”

　　“No clue as to his identity?”

　　“We’re working on it.”

　　“Okay. Out.”

　　Snake set the bulky Nikita on the floor. He hated to abandon it, but there was no way he could carry something that cumbersome and do what he had to do. He continued down the hall, turned the corner, and then saw the damage. The switchboard was a mess; it had been a direct hit.

　　Master Miller would have been proud.

brightxy

这个...完了，再下去就要被追七