"I can’t believe Naomi was Gray Fox’s foster sister!" Richard murmured bitterly.
"Are you happy? You know who she is now after all."
"I wouldn’t say that." Richard’s expression was complex.
"She said she wasn’t the one who deployed FOXDIE." I decided to risk putting out a feeler. Richard said nothing, and that told me everything I needed to know.
"It was you, wasn’t it?"
"Yes," I was taken aback by his ready admission. "FOXDIE was one of my projects."
"And Naomi?"
"Was a top-notch professional. The FOXDIE research had hit a brick wall when she pitched herself to us. She’d somehow heard that we were looking for a genetic engineering expert. As soon as she joined the team, the project took off in a major way." Richard paused, then plunged ahead.
"I assigned her to lead the development effort. When the virus was finally engineered, it was she that named it FOXDIE."
"What I thought was dedication to the work was actually thirst for vengeance. She didn’t let that slip, not once." He murmured ruefully. I knew what his relationship had been with Naomi when I studied his face.
"You were seeing her."
"She was using me." He corrected and gave a hollow laugh. At that point, one of his men came tearing over. After an urgent whisper, Richard’s face grew grim.
"What happened?"
"Master Miller wasn’t Master Miller.” Richard was visibly shaken.
"What?"
"The man I sent to investigate Miller just reported in. He found Miller murdered in his home, up in Alaska.”
"Who was it that we were talking to then --!" But there was no one who could provide an answer to that question.

Around the same time on Shadow Moses, Snake had finally made it past the enemy’s defenses and successfully re-entered the launch code. But something was amiss: as the code was accepted, an alarm was triggered.
"Launch code entered." An electronic voice intoned. "All systems ready. Standby for missile launch." Snake stared around him, aghast.
"No! I just overrode the launch authorization!" He cried. His questions were answered by an unexpected source when a radio call came in.
"Thank you, Snake." It was Miller - or rather, an imposter who had taken the murdered man’s identity. "The launch preparations are now complete. Nothing can stop Metal Gear now."
"Master, what’s going on!"
"We’re very grateful to you. Not only did you bring the key, you just entered the launch code for us as well."
"What?"
"We never did get his part of the code form the DARPA chief. Even Mantis’ abilities couldn’t break through, and Ocelot managed to kill Anderson off before we could try anything else." As Snake listened in horror, "Miller" continued.
"You see, we couldn’t launch the missile. Not even a warning shot. We were dead in the water, with nothing to back up our demands."
"Master, what are you saying?"
"With the launch code out of our reach, we had to fall back on another plan. We decided to have you work for us, Snake."
"What?"
"Having Decoy Octopus impersonate the DARPA chief was a part of it. We were trying to extract information from you but - FOXDIE got to him first," "Miller" said savagely.
"Are you saying this whole thing was fixed?" Snake asked through clenched teeth. And it was all to get me to unlock the launch sequence?" The terrorist’s mocking laugh rang out.
"Did you think you got this far thanks to your own abilities? Think again."
"Master, what about you? Are you a spy?" The other continued as though he had not heard Snake’s question.
"But everything is ready for the launch now. Once they get a taste of the new warhead, the White House will have to hand over the antidote. And they’ll have nothing on us anymore, ever again."
"Have nothing on you? What do they have on you now?"
"The Pentagon’s already accomplished what it set out to do with you. It happened right there in that torture chamber. You’re the only one who’s in the dark. It’s not fun, is it, Snake?" He sneered.
"Who are you!?"
"I’ll tell you -- if you manage to get to me."
"Where are you?"
"Very close, Snake. Very close."

Campbell suddenly broke in.
"Snake, that’s not Miller!"
"Hello Campbell. It’s a little late for that," the impostor said mockingly.
"Master Miller’s body was discovered at his home. He’s been dead three days. We didn’t know sooner because the communication was down. According to Mei Ling, the transmission is originating inside that base."
"Then who are you?"
"You’ve been talking to me all along -- " The man responded. "... Snake." His voice suddenly changed, and I knew who it was. So did Snake.
"Liquid..." Snake broke off communications, and started to run. Metal Gear had already been activated by the time Snake reached it. Liquid was about to climb into the pilot’s seat when Snake called out to him, the barrel of his SOCOM pointed straight at Liquid.

"Liquid!"
"Are you going to shoot your own brother?" Liquid remained languid.
"Why did you impersonate Miller?"
"To manipulate you, of course." Liquid said conversationally as though the two were discussing the weather. "It worked too. You did exactly what we needed you to do." Snake’s indignity was compounded by Liquid’s next comment.
"I’m sure your masters at the Pentagon agree."
"Why do you keep mentioning them?"
"You don’t even question the orders that you’re given any more, hm, Snake? Where’s your pride? A warrior, reduced to a pawn." Liquid sighed exaggeratedly. "All this 'stopping the nuke, rescuing hostages', it’s a charade."
"Charade?" Snake was taken aback.
"All the Pentagon wanted was to effect a meeting between us." Liquid explained, obviously enjoying Snake’s reaction. "That’s how the ArmsTech president and Decoy were gotten rid of."
"Can’t be..."
"Actually, it can be. The point was to selectively kill us off and retrieve our extremely expensive genetically engineered corpses along with Metal Gear. You were sent in by the Pentagon merely as a FOXDIE vector!" Snake was in shock.
"That’s insane. And Naomi - was she working with the Pentagon all along!?"
"That’s what they thought. But it seems she wasn’t quite as soft as they read her to be."
"What do you mean?"
"I have ears at the DOD. Naomi apparently managed to make some tweaks to the virus right before the mission. Her motive and objective are unknown." I heard Richard’s impatient grunt beside me.
"Is that what you had Naomi arrested for? To discover why she did what she did?" Snake challenged.
"Very good. It’s disappointing that this was nothing more than a run-of-the-mill revenge scheme. But we still don’t know what kind of changes she introduced to FOXDIE." Liquid fell silent for a moment, then continued.
"But enough of that. I’ve already added the FOXDIE antidote to my list of demands to Washington."
"There’s an antidote?" Snake asked in surprise.
"There should be. Hunter would be the only one to know but even that may not be necessary."
"Why not?"
"You’ve successfully infiltrated the facility. We’ve all been affected with the execution virus according to their plan. Octopus and the ArmsTech president died of it for certain. But neither myself nor Ocelot - not to mention you - have shown any signs of infection."
"You’re saying there may be a flaw in FOXDIE’s targeting program."
"Who knows. But as long as you’re healthy, I’m safe. We share the same genetic code after all."
"So we are -- "
"Twins, yes. But not in the ordinary sense. We’re the flip sides of a counterfeit genetic coin. ‘Enfants terrible’" Liquid’s voice grew hoarse with anger. "You lucked out. They handpicked all of our father’s superior traits for you." Snake was silent. His father, Big Boss, was a part of the past he wanted to leave behind, a past tainted by the crime of patricide. But Liquid was not finished.
"Everything that was undesirable, I got. Or should I say that I was everything undesirable left over from the creation process that was designed to produce you. The only reason I came into being was so that you could be born."
"How could I be the superior - specimen?"
"Oh, but you are. And I’m the dregs. You couldn’t begin to understand what it was like starting out life as genetic garbage!" The hatred and rage in Liquid’s voice shook us, and left Snake speechless.
"But it was me that our father chose." Liquid said slowly and purposefully.
"Is that why you’re obsessed with Big Boss? Some kind of twisted love?"
"Love? Hatred, my brother. He chose me knowing that I was biologically inferior. Now I’m about to pay him back for that crime!" Liquid laughed, mocking Snake’s bewilderment.
"You couldn’t understand that either. Someone who got the chance to kill his own father wouldn’t! You managed to deprive me even of that revenge. But I will accomplish what our father dreamt of and never achieved. That’s how I’ll kill him - by surpassing him." Liquid ended his proclamation by leaping into Metal Gear’s cockpit. Snake fired a burst from his SOCOM, but the bullets ricocheted off Metal Gear’s armor.
"Damn!" Snake gnashed his teeth as Liquid called out mockingly from the cockpit.
"Snake, count yourself lucky. You get to die by the greatest weapon the world has ever seen. It’s the least I can do for my brother."

Metal Gear, already in activation mode, started to stir. A high-pitched noise, like the whine of a turbo engine, began to sound as Liquid’s voice boomed out of the amplifier, “I’ll give you an advance showing of what the rest of the world will learn soon – that the 21st century will belong to a devil they don’t know!” Metal Gear struck at Snake like a living thing. Its state-of-the-art composite armor was virtually impregnable to all but high-yield explosives like HEAT (High Explosive Anti-Tank). But Dr. Emmerich had advised Snake to take out the radome and knock the sensors offline in a bid for survival. Snake struck again and again, but he was fighting a difficult battle, given Metal Gear’s immense firepower and agility. Finally, one of Metal Gear’s huge feet lashed out towards Snake in a crushing blow.
"It’s time to die, Snake!" Liquid called out. The foot hit the floor with a deafening crash. Snake, however, had escaped. Someone had pulled him out of the foot’s path at the last second.
"Get out of her now!" The voice was a familiar one.
"Gray Fox!" Snake cried out. The Ninja - or rather Gray Fox - launched a fiery arc towards Metal Gear, destroying the radome. The tank froze in confusion for a second, and Snake and the Ninja found cover during the brief lull.
"Why, Fox? Why are you helping me?"
"I’m a captive, Snake. Death is my prison. You’re the only one who can release me!" Gray Fox replied, his voice clear and sane.
"Fox, don’t involve yourself in this business anymore. Think about Naomi. She’s destroying herself trying to avenge you!"
"Yes, Naomi!"
"You’re the only one who can stop her," Snake urged, but Gray Fox’s replay was discouraging.
"No, I can’t!"
"Why not?"
"I’m the one that killed her parents." Gray Fox’s startling words stunned Snake. "I was just a child myself, and I couldn’t stand to kill her too. I took her with me because it was the only way I could think of to assuage the guilt. I raised her to satisfy my half-baked conscience, but she gave me the love and respect I didn’t deserve - called me her brother."
"Fox --"
"We may have looked like a happy little family, but I was terrified every time she looked me in the eye - that she would see the truth. Tell her for me, will you? Tell her that I’m the one who took her family from her, not you." Many former child soldiers are permanently traumatized by their horrific was experiences. It was possible that Gray Fox’s compulsions - whether it be taking in his victims’ orphaned child or returning again and again to the battlefields with Big Boss - had its roots in his childhood scars.
"There you are!" Liquid called through Metal Gear’s speakers. A concentrated volley of Vulcan cannon fire followed, the rounds closing in on Snake and the Ninja.
"It’s almost time to finish this," Fox cried. "I’ll slow him down!"
"Fox!" Before Snake could stop him, Gray Fox leapt out into the open and went for Metal Gear. We could hear the roar of Metal Gear’s Vulcan cannon. Gray Fox’s reinforced skeleton gave him a faster reflex, and he dodged the volley. But the next second, his body had been plucked up by Metal Gear’s massive jaw.
"Fox! Snake’s shout reverberated throughout the hangar. Metal Gear’s engine revved louder and Fox’s reinforced skeleton creaked audibly.
"How long will his bones hold out? Hm, Snake? Are you going to abandon him?" Liquid taunted. But Fox was far from dead.
"A cornered fox is one of the most dangerous animals!" Laser fire burst from Fox’s right arm and Metal Gear’s radome exploded. Liquid was now blind, since Metal Gear’s cockpit was completely sealed from the outside.
"They didn’t give you a Fox rank for nothing, old comrade. But this is where it ends!" Liquid’s unamplified voice called out. He had apparently discarded the cockpit hatch to use his own eyes in lieu of sensors. The next thing we hear was an explosive crash. Was Gray Fox now under Metal Gear’s foot? My fear was confirmed by the ominous and unmistakable sound of Fox’s reinforced exoskeleton creaking under pressure. At the same time, we heard Fox’s gasping voice.
"Finally - I can finally die, and with you as my witness. After Zanzibar Land they took away the fight from me. I wasn’t dead but didn’t feel alive. So futile for such a long time. But finally it’s over!" Fox’s voice was down to a whisper now.
"Snake! We’re not just tools for politicians and generals! All I did with my life was fight, but at least it was my choice. Goodbye, Snake." With a dull crunch, his reinforced skeleton finally gave away.
"FOX!!" Snake screamed. Liquid laughed.
"He was a fool. It was over the moment he begged for death." He ground Fox’s battered corpse underfoot with Metal Gear, then bellowed.
"Do you get it now! You can’t protect anyone, let alone yourself! Die!" Metal Gear’s Vulcan cannons roared into action. But with all sensors offline, the fire lacked its previous accuracy.

Robbed of his old friend and comrade, Snake gave free rein to his rage. Taking up a Stinger missile launcher, he fired at Liquid, sitting exposed in his cockpit. It was a direct hit; even the composite armor could not protect against a shot that penetrated into the cockpit itself. Its piloting system destroyed, Metal Gear abruptly spun out of control and pitched towards the ground with a deafening screech. A massive explosion followed seconds later. Snake was still out cold, but his radio was online. We could hear smaller explosions from the wreck of the Metal Gear, and the sound of flames greedily sucking up the leaking fuel. Snake showed no signs of coming around. A few minutes later, a sound of footsteps emerged from the general chaos. It was moving towards Snake. There was a faint murmur.

"Snake - it’s not over yet." It was Liquid’s voice.
"Snake!" I yelled into the radio, but Snake did not stir. "Isn’t there any way to wake him?" I asked Richard, but he shook his head.

> Liquid had reached Snake’s side, and to our surprise, picked up Snake’s limp body. He started to carry Snake, heading in the direction of Metal Gear’s prone form. We listened, helpless, in a tense silence. It was Snake’s battle; there was next to nothing we could do. Liquid had now climbed onto Metal Gear’s back, where he carelessly laid Snake down. He apparently planned to simply wait for his adversary to regain consciousness.
"So -- " Liquid said. Snake was still out of action.
"I know you’re listening. You have a radio implant in this one." It was clear that Liquid was talking to us.
"You think you’ve pulled off FOXDIE. Think again. You’re never going to kill me with a thing like that. Never." The knowledge that he was already infected with the killer retrovirus made no difference to Liquid Snake. It was a force of will that commanded respect.
"You have no idea how excited I am - knowing that you’re still out there. Revenge is a candy I’ve been deprived of too many times!" The hatred in Liquid’s voice was chilling. "You - ‘Patriots’!" At that moment, Snake let out a groan. He was starting to surface.
"He’s almost ready. Listen, all of you. When I’ve settled the score with this one, I’m coming after you next. I’m going to end your miserable lives in a way that’ll make even the Reaper’s stomach turn."
"I’ll look forward to it," Richard murmured starkly. Snake groaned again. He was apparently awake.
"Still a light sleeper, huh?" Liquid said to Snake conversationally.
"Liquid - you’re alive?"
"You won’t get rid of me, not as long as you’re breathing."
"Sorry your insurrection was a bust," Snake commented.
"Do you think that I’ll give up my fight just because we’ve lost Metal Gear?" Liquid had lost one of his confidence.
"Your fight?" Snake shot back. "What’s your real objective here?"
"To make sure that the age of warriors comes again. Warriors like us, Snake."
"That’s Big Boss’s pet delusion all over again."
"No, his legacy!" Liquid exploded at Snake’s words. "All throughout the Cold War - during the times of turbulence - the whole world wanted us. Gave us our due. We were needed!" He fell silent, as if to mourn for the days that were no more.
"That’s all changed. Hypocrisy and fraudulent peace are replacing warfare. There is a terrible emptiness that comes from losing an arena for your gifts. And the terror that you will become a dinosaur, no longer useful. You must know that fear better than anyone." Snake had no reply to Liquid’s entreaty. I wondered whether Liquid’s words had found their mark.
"The prototype nuclear warheads will provide me with the leverage to acquire my campaign funds. The funds will make more global acts of terrorism possible. Violence begets violence, and this complacent world will erupt into confusion. Violence, mistrust, and conflict will compound each other and create more hatred – and our sphere of usefulness, the ecosystem of war, will grow larger and larger.”
"As long as human beings are around, there will always be war, somewhere in the world." Snake argued. "There’s no need to create more."
"It’s a question of balance," Liquid responded in a flash. "The balance that our father fought for."
"And that’s the only reason you need to do this?"
"It’s more than enough for me. And for you too."
"That’s not the kind of thing I want. Not now, not ever!" Liquid laughed at Snake’s dogged refusal.
"You’re lying. Why do you think you’re here? You’ve been lied to, betrayed by your own team. But you still wouldn’t abandon the mission. Why?" Snake could not answer.
"I’ll tell you why," Liquid continued. "Because you enjoy it. The thrills. And the kills."
"No, that’s not -- !" Snake was struggling for words, but Liquid cut in.
"Are you going to deny it? You’ve killed dozens of my men today."
"But that was-" As Snake faltered, Liquid laughed in contempt.
"Every time you delivered the kill shot, your face brightened up."
"No!"
"There’s no reason for you to deny your own killer instincts. That’s what we were created for, after all."
"What we were - created for?"

It was all the encouragement Liquid needed to reveal the details of a secret project known as 'Les Enfants Terribles.' It was the 1970s. The U.S. had not yet awoken from the nightmare of the Vietnam War when a plan was hatched by key figures in the government to artificially create the ideal soldier. The man selected to serve as the genetic template for the project was the most famous living mercenary of the time, Big Boss. Big Boss was, however, incapable of reproducing, a result of past war injuries. As a result, his body cells were harvested for a cloning attempt. In addition to the existing 'analogue' cloning protocol, the program incorporated the so-called "super-baby" technique. The super-baby technique involves carefully dividing the fertilized egg whose nucleus had been switched with that of the donor cell. The result is usually eight zygotes which are then implanted in a surrogate’s uterus. Six of the embryos are strategically aborted over a period of time in order to boost the growth of the remaining two.

"We started out as octuplets." Liquid reflected.
"Octuplets?" Snake was clearly taken aback.
"Six of our brothers were killed so that we could be created. We’ve been causing death and destruction even before we breathed outside air."
"That left the two of us. Two zygotes that shared the same DNA. But there was one more sacrifice to be made. One of the embryos was engineered to manifest the full potential of its genetic makeup - at the expense of the other one, which was purposefully relegated to the bottom of the curve. You are what you are, Solid Snake, thanks to the death and deprivation of your brothers!" Liquid surveyed the stunned Snake and smiled.
"But if you think that I’m the only sibling you have left, think again."
"What?"
"The genome soldiers. They were bred from our father’s DNA too. The only difference is that they’re not analogs of him like we are." Liquid went onto tell an astonishing story. The Human Genome Project, concluded late last century, the “Les Enfants Terribles” Projectr and the intensive study of Big Boss’ genetic samples had led researchers to many of the secrets of the so-called “soldier genes.” The isolated traits for initiative, discipline and other tactically desirable characteristics had been secretly integrated into the genetic structure of next-generation special forces soldiers.
"All those commandos you murdered on this base were your brothers."
"The genome soldiers -- !"
"Incomplete creatures, certainly, forcibly grafted with a piece of Big Boss’ genetic sequence. But still family. They share in the family dysfunction too - their lives also cost dearly."
"How so?"
"Human experiments." Liquid hissed angrily. According to Liquid, the military had secretly started 'treating' its men with the soldier gene when the 1991 Gulf War broke out. The unexplained "Gulf War Syndrome" among the returning personnel was apparently one of the gene therapy’s unfortunate side effects.
"That means that those Gulf War Babies born to vets are -- ?" Snake asked, stunned.
"Exactly. Our earliest siblings."
"And the next-generation special forces were the finished product?"
"Finished?" Liquid sneered. "Hardly. They’re defective. We all are. On a path to extinction, if you will!"
"What did you say?"
"You ever heard of the law of biological asymmetry? There’s a natural tendency towards left-right asymmetry. On the other hand, species that ran out of genetic diversity and are on path to extinction start showing complete symmetry. That’s what’s happening to the genome soldiers. And to us." Snake stared at Liquid in bleak shock.
"Every one of us is dying on a genetic level. The question is when the decline will start. That’s why I need our father’s body, to get some answers."
"You expect me to believe," Snake asked, "that you demanded Big Boss’ body so you can save yourself and the genome soldiers?"
"Siblings start out life competing, but they always band together against outside threats. Why do you think that is?" Liquid waited for Snake to respond, but the latter said nothing.
"It’s because they share your genes, and by helping them, the chances of your genes making it to the next generation are bettered. Natural selection favors nepotistic species. The instinct to help our own kind is an inherited trait."
"Your DNA is ordering you to help these genome commandos?" Snake said skeptically, but Liquid agreed in reverential tone.
"No one can go against their genetic destiny. We were born for the sole purpose of recreating our father’s DNA in its basest and most ideal incarnations. I will follow my destiny – and surpass it. I can break my own biological curse, and that’s why I’m going to kill you, Solid Snake…” He spoke quietly, but it was clear that he meant every word. He suddenly called out in a different tone.
"Look behind you!"
"Meryl!?" Snake exclaimed. Meryl was apparently lying behind Snake. I guessed that she had been brought there before Liquid had carried Snake onto the roof.
"Is she alive?"
"I wouldn’t know. She was definitely breathing a few hours ago, though. She kept calling your name, over and over again." Liquid said coolly.
"Meryl..."
"She’s a fool to fall for a man who doesn’t even have a name."
"I do have a name."
"No, you don’t. And no past and no future! That’s the way it is for us!" Liquid shouted. "The only thing we do have are instructions written in our father’s genomes!"
"Liquid, let Meryl go!"
"After we settle things between us. We’re just about out of time."
"Are you talking about FOXDIE?"
"No, the Pentagon. It seems that the DOD came to a decision when they heard about Metal Gear’s destruction. They’re not even interested in a Bonder report at this point. Ask your shadow Campbell if you want. He likes to listen, doesn’t he?" Snake raised Campbell on the radio.

"Colonel, can you hear me?"
"I’m here."
"What’s the Pentagon up to? You’d better tell me, Colonel."
"The Defense Secretary’s personally taken control of the mission. He’s on an AWAC heading your way."
"For what?"
"An air strike." Campbell replied bitterly.
"WHAT?"
"That’s not even the bad news. A bomber just took off from the Galena AFB. It’s carrying the B61-13 surfacing-piercing missiles."
"Christ, Metal Gear’s already been destroyed." Snake raised his voice. "Doesn’t the Defense Secretary know that?"
"He knows. But because of Naomi’s betrayal, he no longer has any faith in FOXDIES’s effectiveness. Your taking out Metal Gear means that the threat of nuclear strike has been removed, and he’s free to ensure a direct and complete cover-up of the whole affair."
"By blowing up all the evidence and everyone who knows anything sky-high with a nuclear bomb." Snake finished angrily. But Campbell’s next words were unexpected."
"Don’t worry, Snake. I’ll halt the air strike."
"What?"
"It may be a technicality, but I’m still the field controller for the mission. If I call in an order to halt the strike, it should wreak enough havoc within the chain of command to buy you some time. Use it to get out of there." Richard called one of his men over and muttered an order. There was little doubt that it was for Campbell’s arrest. Snake and Campbell, ignorant of the roomful of ears who were listening in on their every exchange, were still talking.
"Colonel, you know what would happen to you!?"
"It’s all right, Snake. But you should know something. There was a top-secret internal investigation being conducted into FOXHOUND these past few months. Meryl was transferred out to Shadow Moses the day of the insurrection - as a hostage to ensure my cooperation."
"What a -- " Snake broke off in disgust.
"Now go, Snake."
"Are you sure about this? You’ll lose everything you’ve worked for."
"I’m sure. And this way, I get to keep the things that are really important - that I would otherwise lose."
"Colonel -- "
"All right, I’m putting in an order to halt the strike. This is the point of no return- What the hell!?" Campbell gasped. It seemed that Richard’s men were trying to restrain him. The only thing we could hear over the radion were gunshots and unintelligible noise. I was once again a helpless spectator of a life-or-death struggle. Mei Ling burst in abruptly, as though she had seized the microphone.
"Snake!!"
"Mei Ling, what happened to the Colonel!"
"I don’t believe this -- !"
"Tell me what’s going on!"
"Snake! The Colonel!" Mei Ling’s voice was lost in the shower of static before she could reveal more. Instead, an unfamiliar male voice started to speak.
"This is Jim Houseman, Secretary of Defense. Roy Campbell was just relieved of duty."
"Let me talk to Colonel Campbell!"
"He’s been arrested for compromising national security. He’ll be charged with treason."
"That’s insane!"
"No, it was Roy Campbell who was insane if he truly believed that he had any real say in this mission!"
"You -- !" Snake was seething, but Houseman went on nonchalantly.
"The nuclear strike will go forward as planned. The sea will take care of what little there is left. It’s what the President wants."
"So this is an executive order?"
"The President of the United States is a very, very busy job. Let’s just say that I take full responsibility for this strike."
"How are you going to explain to the media why you dropped a nuke on American soil?"
"Don’t worry, there’s a cover story ready. A band of terrorists took over the Shadow Moses facility, and were extremely careless with their nuclear missile."
"You’ll be killing your own genome commandos - all the researchers too."
"Donald is already dead," Houseman suddenly said with genuine sorrow in his voice.
"So you didn’t plan on killing the DARPA chief after all." Snake asked.
"He was my closest friend."
"And the rest of the poor bastards stranded here aren’t so to hell with them, is that it?"
"That depends. If you transfer the contents of the optical disc over to me, there may be room for negotiation."
"What disc?" Snake feigned ignorance, but Houseman was not so easily put off.
"The disc that contained the full exercise data. Donald was supposed to personally bring it back."
"I don’t have it."
"Hm. That’s unfortunate." Houseman said calmly. "The fact remains that the two of you are a liability. You belong to an age no one cares to go back to, and you have the potential to needlessly embarrass this great nation. No, you cannot be permitted to ever leave that island. Take the time until the air strike to catch up. Then rest in peace - you are a ghost of the Cold War, after all." The transmission ended.