Metal Gear Solid 3: Ocelots Side By: Ocelotzgurl
 
Chapter One

6:30 AM August 24, 1964 – Tselinoyarsk, USSR


The morning was quiet and calm. There was little wind, and the thick jungle of Tselinoyarsk mimicked the serenity of the clear, blue sky above it.
However, the quiet was disturbed a minute later by a steady droning noise. If anyone on the ground below chose that moment to look up, they would see half a dozen Soviet Hinds flying over the treetops in close formation.
The sun had risen only an hour earlier, and the air inside one of the Hinds still contained some of that early-morning sluggishness. Apart from the pilot, there were eight people travelling in this particular chopper.
The youngest member of this group – in fact, probably one of the youngest soldiers of GRU – was glancing at himself in a hand-held mirror he had with him, straightening his uniform. At the age of 20, he was a handsome man, with short blonde hair and electric-blue eyes. He wore a black waistcoat and pants, black boots which he had customised with spurs, maroon gloves and a maroon scarf and beret. The man’s name was Adamska, although he was better known by his codename – Ocelot.
Six others in the chopper were dressed more or less identically to Ocelot. However, their boots were missing spurs, they didn’t wear scarves and they had the additional item of a black balaclava as part of their uniform. They were all part of the Ocelot unit, and Ocelot was their commander.
The last person in the chopper was a monstrous man, his shoulders twice as broad as anyone else’s. He had sleek blonde hair, dark eyes and electrical burns covering most of his face, and he wore orange boots and gloves in addition to a full-length army-green coat. This man’s name was Yevgeny Borisovitch Volgin, and he was a cold, sadistic GRU colonel. He was known as Thunderbolt in the West, an appropriate name as his body carried a lethal electric charge that he was able to control with both good and bad intentions, although mostly the latter. It was he who was in charge of this mission, and he was staring out the door of the helicopter, apparently entranced by the sight of the jungle below.
Ocelot was busy straightening his beret, but he turned around quickly as Volgin addressed him. “Major?”
“Yes sir?” Ocelot replied, standing to attention.
Volgin did not look at him. “We’ll be dropping you and your men off shortly. I still have my… other business to attend to.”
“Yes sir.”
Volgin glanced at him for a moment, looking him up and down, before turning to stare out at the jungle again.
The question had often been asked as to how Ocelot had obtained the rank of major at such a young age. The answer, in fact, was that Volgin had always given him special treatment because he was the son of a legendary hero, although no one knew exactly who this hero was. Ocelot knew nothing about his parents, although Volgin had often told him the story that his mother had been shot in the gut during battle, and that he had been born right there in the middle of it all. Supposedly when she was stitched up, the scar was shaped like a snake. However, that was all he knew, for he had been taken in by Colonel Volgin and raised inside GRU.
Ocelot turned back to his mirror. He took great pride in his appearance – in fact, in himself as a whole. After all, he was the best marksman in GRU. No one stood a chance against him while he had a gun in his hand. Not only that, but he could do amazing tricks with them, tricks that had never been seen before. And he always liked to learn new things – only the day before, he had read about a technique in which you loaded a single bullet into your gun instead of an entire clip, whether there was ammo left in it or not, to eliminate the risk of pulling the trigger with nothing to fire. He was itching to try it out, and today was his first opportunity to do so.
Although he was busy examining his reflection, his mind was elsewhere. He was thinking hard about the mission he was about to begin.
Volgin, like many powerful men, wanted nothing but more power. Recently, a scientist named Nikolai Stepanovich Sokolov had been building a weapon for the KGB – against his will, of course, as he had defected to the US two years earlier. But after the Cuban Missile Crisis, the Americans had been forced to return Sokolov to the Soviet Union as part of the deal to get Soviet missiles removed from Cuba. Now this weapon was on the verge of completion. This weapon – the Shagohod as it was so called – was supposedly the most powerful invention on the face of the earth. When it was completed, it would be capable of a nuclear strike powerful enough to cripple the entire West side.
However, for the moment, Khrushchev and the KGB were in possession of both Sokolov and the Shagohod. This mission was all about turning both of those things over to the GRU – about Volgin seizing this weapon and its creator. Today the KGB was conducting a field test of the Shagohod, and Sokolov was being held at an abandoned factory nearby while it went on. There would never be a better opportunity.
Ocelot and his men had been assigned to go after Sokolov, while Volgin would go after the Shagohod. However, Volgin could not seize the Shagohod by himself. So a week ago, he had contacted a legendary American soldier, and suggested that he defect to the Soviet Union and become part of the GRU.
All Ocelot knew about this soldier was that his codename was The Boss, and that apparently he was one of the best soldiers in the world, especially capable of almost unbeatable hand-to-hand combat. He was also the commander of the legendary Cobra unit, a group of soldiers who led the Americans to victory during World War Two. If Volgin could have the Shagohod, The Boss and the Cobra unit, he would be virtually unstoppable.
Volgin was supposed to meet up with The Boss and the rest of the Cobras after parting ways with Ocelot and his men, so Ocelot wouldn’t have a chance to meet this legendary hero until after he had captured Sokolov. He was a little disappointed by that, but at least he would be leaving a good first impression – he would have Sokolov in his possession, proof that he was a skilled soldier.
Ocelot turned around, snapping the mirror shut and stowing it in his pocket as he saw that the helicopter was heading for the ground. It was time to go.
Behind him, the rest of the Ocelot unit stood up, gripping their weapons tightly. They had been chosen for this mission because they were the most elite unit of Spetsnaz, having had even more rigorous training than the rest of GRU. Failure was not an option for them.
When the chopper was hovering about a metre above the ground, Volgin moved aside to make room for the Ocelots. One by one, they dropped to the ground, landing with bended knees in the dirt below.
Ocelot was last. As he reached the doorway, he looked expectantly at Volgin, plainly asking if there were any last-minute orders.
“We’ll meet you back here as soon as I’ve got the Cobras,” Volgin told him. “Make it quick. It shouldn’t take long.”
“Yes sir,” Ocelot said, nodding at him. Then he jumped out, joining his comrades on the ground below.
The helicopter immediately rose into the air and took off, heading away from the spot where Ocelot and his men stood.
Ocelot looked around. They were standing at the edge of a rope bridge that didn’t look very sturdy. It stretched over an enormous canyon, and when he glanced over the edge he saw a roaring river, a long way below. They would have to be very careful while they crossed it.
Ocelot turned to the others. “All right, let’s go. Stay behind me, and only interfere when I tell you to.”
The others nodded. This was the way things usually went – Ocelot had such a high opinion of himself that he would not accept help easily. He liked to handle things alone, and although none of them would ever say it to him, he usually only called in the Ocelot unit when he wanted an audience for his pretentious behaviour.
Ocelot glanced around for any KGB guards, but to his surprise, there weren’t any. All he found was a crumpled hornets’ nest at his feet that had fallen from a tree branch somewhere above him. Fortunately, the hornets were long gone.
He began moving across the bridge, followed by the other Ocelots, who were moving slowly in single file. Ocelot was strolling confidently forwards, while his men were very tense and edgy, gripping the rails to keep their balance as the bridge wobbled dangerously under their weight.
At last, they were all across. The factory where Sokolov was being held was just up ahead – they could see it in the distance.
As they moved towards it, they saw that it was a crumbling, empty shell of a building. There was no roof, no doors. Any remaining windows had dusty or broken window-panes, and the walls were nothing more than crumbling red brick. The ground was littered with plaster and broken girders, and there were dilapidated crates and oil drums stacked around the place at random. The place was fenced in, derelict and decaying. A pillar in the courtyard was barely standing, sporting a girder that looked as though it would fall off any second, creaking softly in the gentle breeze.
Ocelot turned to his men. “All right, stay back for the moment. I’m going in to get Sokolov, and I’ll only call you if I need you. What I do want you to do is surround the factory. I want two on the east side, two on the west side, one to the north and one in the south. Do nothing until I tell you to. Got that?”
“Yes sir!” the Ocelots said in unison, and immediately split up.
Ocelot turned around, once again straightening his beret. He pulled a Makarov pistol from a holster on his belt and began twirling it on his finger – it was a distinctive habit of his. Then he moved confidently towards the factory.
He was about to enter when suddenly a voice somewhere nearby shouted, “Freeze!”
Ocelot stopped, thinking for a moment that the order had been directed at him. Then he heard movement from the inner courtyard of the factory, and when he looked up, he saw two men standing there, surrounded by KGB soldiers.
One of the men was none other than Sokolov himself – Ocelot recognised him immediately from the photographs Volgin had shown him the previous day. He was a thin, balding man, wearing a vest and trousers with a long black leather coat over the top, black leather gloves and a monocle for his left eye. He was glancing around with a look of absolute terror in his eyes.
The other man was a stranger. He was a tough-looking American with brown hair and blue eyes, dressed in some sort of leaf-patterned camouflage uniform. He was holding a knife and an Mk22 tranquiliser gun in his hands, glancing around at the soldiers surrounding him. They obviously had him cornered.
It didn’t take long to work out what was going on. This man had to be The Boss. He had been trying to bring Sokolov out of the factory, but these KGB guys had caught him in the act.
Ocelot smiled. This was his chance to prove himself – if he could pull The Boss out of trouble, that would definitely leave a good impression. It was also a good opportunity to try out his new technique – if he could pull it off right first time, The Boss would be even more deeply impressed.
He moved forwards and entered the courtyard, twirling the Makarov in his gloved hand. “So this is the legendary Boss?”
Everyone – Sokolov, The Boss and the KGB soldiers – looked up as Ocelot walked towards them, slowly and purposefully, still spinning the gun.
“We meet at last,” Ocelot said, staring at The Boss with a fascinated expression on his face.
“You!” said one of the KGB guards, raising his rifle threateningly and pointing it at Ocelot. “You’re from the Ocelot unit of Spetsnaz!”
One of the other KGB soldiers made a slightly panicked noise, pointing his own rifle more forcefully at Ocelot. He had clearly heard of the Ocelot unit before.
“What’s a GRU soldier doing here?” the first guard wondered aloud, although as he glanced at Sokolov, Ocelot realised that he already knew the answer.
Ocelot put his gun away, not at all afraid. On the contrary, he was offended. “Soldier?”
“He’s the Ocelot commander!” the guard informed the others, ignoring this comment.
“That’s Major Ocelot to you,” Ocelot sneered haughtily, spinning around in a dramatic gesture. “And don’t you forget it!”
The guard looked sternly back at him. “Sokolov is ours,” he said viciously. “Now get out of here!”
Ocelot raised his hands in a gesture that resembled a fighting stance, two fingers raised on each hand. His comrades knew this gesture as a sort of trademark of his. “An ocelot never lets his prey escape,” he said coldly.
“What?!” the guard replied, confused.
Ocelot said nothing. Instead, he drew his weapon, loading it with a single bullet as he brought it up, and shot the guard so fast that nobody else had time to react. He then pivoted on the spot, his beret slipping off his head as he did so, and shot a guard behind him. Within seconds, he had killed every guard surrounding The Boss and Sokolov.
There was one sentry left, hiding on what remained of the roof. Ocelot twirled the Makarov a few times, trying and failing to look as though he wasn’t too pleased with himself, and pointed the gun at him. However, the guard shrieked and ducked out of sight.
Ocelot’s smile faltered, but it returned a moment later as he took aim at a point slightly to the right of where the soldier was concealed, and fired. To his delight, the bullet ricocheted off a girder and hit the man in the head. He toppled off the roof, crashed into a stack of crates and hit the ground, unmistakably dead.
Trying not to look too interested in The Boss or Sokolov, Ocelot walked over to the first guard, who was still alive. He looked up at Ocelot with a pleading look in his eyes.
Unfazed, Ocelot shot the soldier in the head, twirled his Makarov a few more times and put it back in his holster. He kicked the dead soldier, rolling his body forwards and revealing his beret, which had been lying underneath. He picked it up, dusted it off and placed it back on his head.
“I can’t say it feels good to kill a comrade, even if it is for the GRU,” he said, more to himself than to anyone else.
Sokolov whimpered, covering his head with his hands. They had him now – all thanks to Ocelot. He had pulled off his new technique and eliminated the KGB soldiers to boot. The Boss would have to respect him now.
But to Ocelot’s surprise, The Boss spoke, and said the last thing he had expected him to say. “Sokolov, take cover!”
Huh? Ocelot thought, turning around to look at The Boss as Sokolov got to his feet and ran to hide behind a pillar. That almost sounds like he’s protecting Sokolov – from me!
Testing his theory, Ocelot held out his arms, presenting himself as a target. The Boss quickly pointed his Mk22 at him.
Ocelot leaned forwards, surveying The Boss with narrowed eyes. “Hmm…”
He rubbed his chin, thinking hard. “You’re not The Boss, are you?”
The American said nothing, but kept his gun pointed at Ocelot’s chest.
This confirmed Ocelot’s suspicions. This guy was not The Boss after all. He was trying to protect Sokolov, and as far as he knew, the only people who would want to do that would be the US government. Most likely, he was a CIA agent ordered to bring Sokolov back to America, away from all this. He couldn’t let that happen.
Coming to a decision, Ocelot turned around, facing the vast jungle, and let out a cry that sounded like a wild cat – the cry of an ocelot.
Instantly, the rest of the Ocelot unit appeared. They surrounded the American, forming a tight circle so that he could not escape.
“GRU operatives!” Sokolov cried in panic, peering out from behind the pillar.
Each of the Ocelot unit aimed their rifles at the American, but Ocelot quickly held up a hand to stop them. He didn’t need their help just yet. He could handle this himself.
He circled the American, pointing at him. “What is that stance?” he scoffed, examining the amusing way the stranger was standing as he held his weapon aloft. “That gun?”
Ocelot threw back his head and laughed loudly as he looked around at his comrades, inviting them to share the joke. They followed his lead, shaking their heads and laughing along with him.
The American frowned, but didn’t say or do anything in retaliation to this ridicule.
“If you’re not The Boss…” Ocelot said when he had stopped laughing. He tossed his Makarov into the air, caught it, and loaded it with a single bullet as before. “…then die!”
Gripping the pistol in his hand, he aimed right at the American’s face, feeling completely self-assured. After all, how hard was it to shoot someone?
But apparently, it was harder than he had thought. For when he pulled the trigger, nothing happened. His smile vanished and his eyes narrowed as he realised, to his great surprise, the gun had jammed.
And suddenly, he froze. He didn’t have a clue what to do next. He had no fighting skill whatsoever, and without his gun…
His face must have revealed his cluelessness, because the American seized his chance. Smiling, he grabbed hold of Ocelot and threw him to the ground.
Ocelot let out a cry of pain as he landed hard on his back, followed by a cry of anguish as the American stepped over him, expertly clamped his arm between his knees and ripped the gun from his hands, tossing it aside.
Somewhere above him, Ocelot heard a scream of terror. When he looked up, he saw Sokolov pelting away from the scene, his arms and legs pumping as he attempted to escape the skirmish.
One of his men had also been watching Sokolov. “Major!” he cried, torn between rescuing his commander and pursuing Sokolov.
“Leave him!” Ocelot ordered, forgetting all about his stubborn independence as he struggled to throw the American off him. “Shoot the other one!”
The nearest of his men charged towards the American, but he grabbed him and, using him as a human shield, shot another of Ocelot’s men with a tranquiliser dart. He heaved the soldier into another, sending them both crashing to the ground, before grabbing a man who had been about to shoot him. He fired instead into the air before he was thrown aside.
The last of Ocelot’s men rushed at the American, joining the battle. The American went for the closest soldier, gripping his throat and keeping him in check as he aimed his gun at a man behind him, who hesitated to raise his weapon while the American had the gun pointed at him. He hit his captive in the head, knocking him out, and quickly caught the last soldier in a spectacular throw that left him lying motionless on the ground.
Ocelot had been lying, paralysed by shock, on the ground, unable to believe what had just happened. There was no doubt about it – even if he wasn’t The Boss, this guy was good.
The American was now pointing his weapon warily at the soldier who had been shot with a tranquiliser, who was struggling to stay standing. Ocelot took this chance to dive for his Makarov. He grabbed it just as the American looked around.
Ocelot got to his feet quickly and charged towards the American, intending to hit him over the head with the butt of the pistol. But the American turned it back on him; he deflected the attack and hit Ocelot hard in the face with his own weapon.
Ocelot felt as though his jaw had broken, but before the pain could register completely, the American had grabbed him and thrown him to the ground once again.
As he fell, Ocelot’s Makarov flew from his hand. When the gun hit the ground, the slide came free, ejecting the round that had been jammed inside. The bullet flew through the air and landed near Ocelot, rolling to a stop right beside him.
“Impossible…” Ocelot muttered, convulsing painfully on the ground as the American stood cautiously above him, pointing the Mk22 at him. Why did his Makarov jam? He was an expert with guns. How could he make such a big mistake? How could he let this guy beat him?
As though reading his mind, the American stared curiously at Ocelot. “You ejected the first bullet by hand, didn’t you?”
Huh? Ocelot thought, staring at the man in surprise.
“I see what you were trying to do,” the American continued. “But testing a technique you’ve only heard about in the middle of battle wasn’t very smart. You were asking to have your gun jam on you.”
Ocelot glanced up, a shocked expression now clouding his face. It was becoming more and more difficult to stay conscious. His breathing was heavy, his eyes wide with astonishment as he listened to this man’s words.
“Besides…” the American continued, “…I don’t think you’re cut out for an automatic in the first place. You tend to twist your elbow to avoid the recoil. That’s more of a revolver technique.”
Ocelot had not moved. He was still staring, mesmerised, at the American as though he were a creature from another planet. But his shock was quickly replaced with white-hot fury. How dare this man show him up in front of the other Ocelots?
Furious, his face contorted with anger, he narrowed his eyes. “You filthy American dog!”
His fury overcoming his feelings of weakness, he quickly drew his knife and sprang to his feet, charging at the American. But again, the American easily deflected the attack, punching him hard in the stomach. Ocelot doubled over in pain.
The American hit Ocelot over the back of the head with his gun, so hard that Ocelot could practically see stars. Next thing he knew, he was thrown to the ground again.
He was very close to losing consciousness, he could feel it. The American bent over him, holding his knife to Ocelot’s throat to stop him from getting up again.
“But that was some fancy shooting,” the American admitted, and Ocelot almost saw a trace of admiration in his eyes. “You’re pretty good.”
Angrily, Ocelot reached up and grabbed the American’s wrist. It took a lot of effort, as he was struggling to stay conscious long enough to look the American in the eyes. He used his other hand to point at him, deeply affronted as he breathed the last words he could manage for the moment: “Pretty… good…”
And then he fell limply to the ground and closed his eyes, unconscious.





Chapter Two


“Ocelot! Ocelot! WAKE UP, OCELOT!”
Ocelot opened his eyes slowly, squinting in the sudden light. A figure was standing over him, shaking him by the shoulders, although his sight was too blurry to make out who it was.
“Get up, you idiot! How could you let Sokolov get away?!”
Suddenly, Ocelot was wide awake. He sat up so fast that he almost banged heads with Volgin, who had his shoulders in a vice-like grip.
“What’s happened?” Ocelot cried. “Sokolov got away?!”
He felt his insides squirm with horror. How could he have failed this mission, and all because of one American soldier?
“No, no,” Volgin said, waving his hand impatiently. “We got Sokolov, no thanks to you. The Boss ambushed him at the rope bridge.”
“What about the American?” Ocelot asked curiously. “Who was he?”
“My apprentice,” said a voice somewhere behind Volgin.
Ocelot peered over Volgin’s shoulder. Standing just behind him was a fit-looking woman with shoulder-length blonde hair and blue eyes. She was dressed in an olive-coloured flight suit, and looked oddly pale.
“Ocelot,” Volgin said, standing up. “This is The Boss.”
Ocelot widened his eyes in surprise – he had always assumed that The Boss was a man.
“Good to meet you,” said The Boss, although her expression suggested otherwise. She was wrinkling her nose at Ocelot, and he could tell that she was not impressed by him at all.
Ocelot quickly climbed to his feet. This was not at all how he had imagined his first meeting with The Boss would go – lying unconscious in the dirt, having just failed an important mission. He felt absolutely humiliated, and it was all that American’s fault…
This reminded Ocelot of what The Boss had said. “Your apprentice, huh? No wonder he was so good. Who is he?”
“His name’s Snake,” said The Boss, her eyes still narrowed, looking Ocelot up and down. “Naked Snake. I taught him everything he knows. He spent ten years with me while I taught him.”
“But what was he doing here?” Ocelot asked.
“He’s from the CIA,” The Boss said. “He was here to rescue Sokolov, but we cornered him at the bridge. We’ve got Sokolov. And the Shagohod. And I took care of Snake. He’s probably at the bottom of the river by now.”
Ocelot gasped. “You mean…?”
“Right,” The Boss nodded. “I threw him off the bridge.”
Ocelot gaped at her, his mouth still wide open in shock. The Boss had already taken care of him… He couldn’t help feeling disappointed – he had been hoping to kill this guy himself. But when he glanced at her face, at her eyes, he got a strange feeling that she knew something he didn’t.
She glared back at him, her expression showing every sign of contempt. But there was something else there as well.
Snake is alive; her eyes seemed to be saying. And for reasons he did not know, Ocelot believed her.
“Come on,” Volgin said, moving past the two of them. “Let’s get out of here. Ocelot, don’t ever let this happen again.”
“Yes sir,” Ocelot mumbled, lowering his chin to his chest.
Volgin stomped away. The Boss gave Ocelot one last scathing look before she followed him.
Ocelot glanced around. The rest of his men were being revived by what he guessed must be the Cobra unit, for he did not recognise them as GRU soldiers. As with The Boss, he had had no idea what they looked like, but he had heard a great deal about them from Volgin. There was The Pain, who supposedly had the ability to control enormous swarms of hornets – in fact, it was even rumoured that he bred them inside his own body. Then there was The Fear, who specialised in crossbows, and was known to have the agility and characteristics of a spider. The End was a legendary sniper whose body could supposedly absorb energy from the sun. And last, there was The Fury, who wielded a flamethrower with the menace of the Devil himself.
Sighing, Ocelot took a step forwards, intending to follow Volgin and The Boss. But he stepped on something small and hard.
He bent to pick it up. It was the bullet that had jammed in his Makarov when he had tried to shoot Snake. The bullet that would have killed him if only the gun hadn’t jammed…
Clenching his teeth, Ocelot closed his fist tightly around it. It was all Snake’s fault. How dare he interfere in his mission? How dare he beat him? No one had ever beaten him before…
I’m a much better soldier than he is, Ocelot thought angrily. And I won’t rest until I prove it.
Still grinding his teeth, he pocketed the bullet. He was going to save it for later. If it was the last thing he did, he was going to shoot Snake with that bullet.
Looking around, he saw that the rest of the Ocelots were now awake. So the group began trudging back towards the bridge, and from there, along the edge of the canyon to where five helicopters were waiting. The Shagohod was chained to each of the choppers, so that they would be able to airlift the monster between them.
The Shagohod was nothing like how Ocelot had imagined it. Right now, it was nothing more than an enormous tank and he found nothing impressive about it other than its size. But he also knew that when it was finished, the Shagohod would be the most powerful – and dangerous – weapon in the world.
His thoughts were interrupted by The Boss. “Ocelot?”
He turned quickly to face her, drawing his eyes away from the Shagohod.
“I’m going with the Cobras,” she said. “You keep an eye on her, OK?”
She grabbed the shoulders of a woman who had been standing just behind her and pushed her forwards. The woman was very attractive, with long blonde hair, blue eyes and glasses. She was wearing an army-green dress, brightly polished silvery-grey boots and tights, and she looked pale and frightened.
“Who the hell is she?” Ocelot asked, gazing at the woman with a strange sense of dislike.
“She’s Sokolov’s lover,” The Boss told him. “I caught her trying to run when we hijacked the Shagohod from his facility. Take her with you, and let Volgin decide what to do with her.”
“OK,” Ocelot nodded, pulling out his Makarov and nudging the woman in the ribs with it. “C’mon, missy.”
Trembling, the woman obediently moved towards the helicopter where Volgin was standing. Ocelot guided her inside and pushed her aggressively into a seat against the wall. Then he took a seat just behind her, so that he could keep a close eye on her. One of his own soldiers took a seat next to him.
Volgin boarded the Hind last, carrying two large cases. He set them on the floor and peered through the door of the cockpit. “Time to go.”
The pilot nodded at him, and moments later, all five choppers were in the air, supporting the Shagohod between them as they flew over the treetops. They were heading home.
Almost absent-mindedly, Ocelot slid his hand into his pocket and pulled out the bullet he had put there earlier. Glancing critically between it and his Makarov, he sighed, lowering his head miserably.
Volgin was still standing, the two large cases he had brought with him at his feet. He knelt down and threw them open, one case revealing a miniature nuclear warhead, and the other a kind of mortar that looked perfectly able to launch it. Contrary to Ocelot’s foul mood, Volgin was overjoyed.
He lifted the mortar from its case. It was a Davy Crockett, a rare yet powerful system that could fire nuclear warheads from long distances.
“Excellent,” he said, examining the Davy Crockett. All traces of his disappoint with Ocelot had long gone. “A great success. Thanks to The Boss and her Cobras, I have both Sokolov and the Shagohod.”
Ocelot was barely listening. He raised his head, and as he did, he caught a whiff of something behind him. He wasn’t sure what it was, just that it made his eyes narrow and his lip curl.
He turned in his seat to look at the woman behind him, the woman who was supposedly affiliated with Sokolov. She looked away quickly as Ocelot eyed her suspiciously, sniffing the air again. He rose from his seat quickly, staring intently at her.
“What are we going to do with the girl?” he said to Volgin.
Volgin looked over his shoulder at the woman. She was determinedly not looking at either of them.
“Who is she?” Volgin asked.
Ocelot shrugged slightly – The Boss had not mentioned her name. “Apparently, she’s Sokolov’s woman.”
Volgin stood up and moved past Ocelot, towards the woman. She drew away from him in revulsion as she stared in the opposite direction, looking uncomfortable. However, Volgin grabbed her face, pinching her cheeks between his fingers and forcing her to look at him.
“She’s a nice catch,” he said, casting a lecherous smile at her. “I’ll take her.”
Ocelot’s frown deepened, but he didn’t say anything.
The woman, still caught in Volgin’s grasp, was casually edging her hand towards her pocket, but Volgin grabbed her arm. “Not so fast, my dear.”
He brought her arm up to reveal a small, silver canister. He took it from her and removed the top to reveal that it was only a tube of lipstick.
“A Kiss of Death?” he said, examining it.
Ocelot stepped forwards suspiciously. “Are you KGB?” he demanded.
Volgin ignored him and handed the lipstick back to the woman, staring desirously at her. “We may be able to use her.”
The woman was carefully avoiding his eyes. Volgin threw her from him aggressively, and she hugged the wall again, staying as far away from her captors as she could.
“She has spunk,” Volgin said, eyeing her hungrily before turning back to the two cases on the floor of the helicopter.
Ocelot still hadn’t taken his eyes off the woman. He wasn’t sure what it was, but there was something he didn’t like about her… Something about the smell of her that troubled him…
He was tempted to vent these feelings to Volgin, but he didn’t want to be given another lecture, so instead he said, “Shall we take her back to the base?”
“Perhaps we should,” Volgin agreed, dropping to his knees again as he examined the cases. “We have no further use for Sokolov’s facility.”
He paused. “I think it’s time I gave this marvellous new toy a try.”
Ocelot finally drew his eyes away from the woman who had aroused his suspicion so much to see what Volgin was doing, and what he saw made him gasp in horror. Volgin was holding the Davy Crockett, loaded with the nuclear warhead, and was aiming it at the jungle below them!
“Colonel!” Ocelot protested, his eyes as wide as dinner plates. “Even if they are our enemies, they’re still our countrymen!”
"But it won’t be me that pulled the trigger,” Volgin said, grinning maniacally. “It will be our friend, the American defector.”
Ocelot couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Volgin was actually going to fire a nuke at his own country… and then blame The Boss?
Desperately, Ocelot grabbed Volgin by the shoulders and shook him, trying to bring him to his senses. “You’re going to nuke your fellow Russians?!”
Volgin heaved Ocelot aside and poised his finger above the button on the launcher. “Remember the Alamo.”
“Colonel!” Ocelot protested.
But nothing he said made any difference. Volgin pressed the button and the warhead shot away from them, streaking towards Sokolov’s research facility in the centre of the jungle.
Ocelot and Volgin stared after it, Volgin grinning, Ocelot open-mouthed in horror, before the sky lit up and the entire jungle was submerged in a bright white light.
Ocelot shielded his eyes to avoid being blinded; when he looked up again, he saw an enormous mushroom cloud in the distance, the final result of what had once been Sokolov’s research facility.
“Colonel…” he said, shaking his head slowly. “How could you?!”
“Don’t start, Ocelot!” Volgin said, so viciously that Ocelot actually took a step backwards.
“But…”
“Not another word!”
Ocelot grumbled to himself, glancing out the open door again at the fading light from the explosion.
“Where did you get that, anyway?” he snapped, gesturing at the Davy Crockett.
“The Boss gave it to us,” Volgin said. “As a gift.”
Ocelot was disgusted. The Boss had very generously given him this gift – now he was going to blame her for the devastation it had caused?
Volgin read the look on his face. “Sit down, Ocelot,” he said. “And don’t say another word until we get back to Groznyj Grad.”
Ocelot bit back his retort and sat down, pulling out his Makarov and twirling it on his finger. He glanced up and caught his comrade staring at him.
“What are you looking at?!” Ocelot snapped at him, and he quickly looked away as the five choppers, with the Shagohod suspended between them, flew off into the sunset.





Chapter Three

11:30 PM August 28, 1964 – Groznyj Grad


What Volgin did not know was that Ocelot had more secrets than he had divulged.
Indeed, Ocelot was not the only codename he used. His other, secret name was in fact ADAM, created of course from his first name, Adamska. But the only person who used this name was his other, alternate boss – the Director of the KGB.
Ocelot and his partner Cougar had been working as code breakers for the NSA in America. Four years ago, he and Cougar had defected to the Soviet Union to train with the KGB under the codenames ADAM and EVA. However, Volgin was unaware of his affiliation with the KGB – Ocelot had been sent in to infiltrate GRU as a spy.
But his secrets didn’t end there. Ocelot also had a third boss to answer to – this time, the Director of the CIA. The CIA had organised for his and Cougar’s defection, so that they could spy on both the KGB and the GRU while appearing to support the Soviet side. So the truth was that Ocelot was in fact a triple agent, working as a spy inside the two opposing Soviet organisations. His true loyalty, unbeknownst to the Russians, lay wholeheartedly with the United States.
The KGB, of course, had no idea of his true identity.
“It’s ADAM,” Ocelot whispered when he had dialled the number. “You wanted to speak to me, sir?”
“Yes,” the KGB Director answered. “You are alone, aren’t you?”
“Of course,” Ocelot said, trying to hide the impatience in his tone. After all, he wasn’t stupid.
“Good,” the Director said. “I’ve got an important mission for you, ADAM.”
“What is it, sir?”
“You heard that Sokolov’s facility was destroyed in that nuclear explosion, didn’t you?”
Ocelot hesitated. “Yes…”
“And that Comrade Khrushchev suspects that the Americans were involved?”
Ocelot’s stomach churned. “Why would he think that?”
“Because,” the Director said, “He found out that our radar picked up one of their military aircraft in that area at the same time that the explosion occurred. That’s a pretty amazing coincidence. Especially since they were in violation of our airspace.”
“Yeah,” Ocelot said softly. “It is.”
“Well, anyway…” the Director continued, “…Khrushchev has demanded that the Americans provide proof that they weren’t involved, because no matter what he said to the President, he wouldn’t admit it.”
“How are they supposed to do that?” Ocelot asked.
“Khrushchev wants them to get rid of The Boss,” the Director said. “To prove she’s not on their side.”
Oh no, Ocelot thought in horror. This was all Volgin’s fault…
“They’re sending in one of their best soldiers to do it,” the Director continued. “But there’s no way he’ll be able to get close enough. Groznyj Grad is almost impregnable. He’ll need some help… Someone who’s already infiltrated Volgin’s ranks and knows that fortress inside out…”
“…And that’s where I come in, I suppose?” Ocelot guessed.
“Right,” the Director said. “We’ve arranged for you to meet with their agent at that abandoned factory where we kept Sokolov yesterday, before Volgin got him…”
Ocelot grinned guiltily; glad that the Director could not see it. He had not yet told him that he had had a hand in the capture of Sokolov, or at least tried to, before the American had messed it up.
“OK,” Ocelot agreed. “So what’s this guy’s codename?”
“Snake,” said the Director. “Naked Snake.”
Ocelot’s mouth dropped open. No way. The man he had vowed to get even with… He had to help him? The thought was almost unbearable.
The KGB Director had gone into a lengthy explanation of the route Ocelot was to show Snake, but Ocelot was barely listening. He was still in shock. What would happen when Snake found out that he was ADAM? They would have to work together. If Snake found out that Ocelot was on his side after all, there would be little chance of a fair rematch, for Snake would see no reason to hurt him. And if he showed any sign that he had any kind of affiliation with Ocelot, it could blow his cover to smithereens…
And at that moment, Ocelot decided that he wouldn’t let him know – he would never let Snake find out who he really was. He would find a way around this. He would help Snake – but there was no way he was going to let him know it.
He was brought back to earth as the Director finished dictating his plans to him. “…and the password is ‘Who are the Patriots?’ and ‘La-li-lu-le-lo.’ Got it?”
“Yes sir.”


Thirty-six hours later, Ocelot had finally made up his mind about what he was going to do about hiding his identity when he met Snake at the factory. The simplest and most obvious solution was indeed, he thought, the best one – he wouldn’t go. Instead, he would turn up the next morning with the Ocelot unit to capture him and bring him back to Groznyj Grad. This way, he could get him inside the fortress without Volgin suspecting a thing. Snake would be locked away in a jail cell. Eventually, he would escape. And then he would be inside the fortress, without having to pass any obstacles along the way. It was ingenious.
Ocelot was due to meet Snake at the factory at midnight that night. Upon investigating why the mission had been delayed for so long, Ocelot had discovered – from the DCI himself – that Snake had been hospitalised after his fall from the rope bridge with two broken bones and numerous lacerations, and hadn’t been released until the day before.
It had been a tough thirty-six hours. Despite his eagerness to get even with Snake, Ocelot wanted him to succeed in this mission – after all, the US would be devastated with a retaliatory nuclear attack if he failed. But he had been afraid that Snake wouldn’t recover before the deadline. Khrushchev had only given the US one week to accomplish the mission, and if Snake was still in no condition to leave the hospital, they’d have to get somebody else. That was the last thing Ocelot wanted – despite the advantage of not needing to hide his identity from a different agent, this was his one and only chance to get even with Snake.
In the meantime, he had taken the ejected bullet from his Makarov and hung it on a chain around his neck. He was going to carry it with him wherever he went, just in case an opportunity to face Snake arose again, as he knew it would soon.
He had also spent quite a bit of time with The Boss and the Cobras. He knew who everyone was now, and could pick one from the other by sight.
The Pain was a large man who wore a grey outfit with a yellow vest. However, Ocelot had never seen his face, for he always wore a black balaclava and he had never seen him take it off.
The Fear had sleek black hair with a white streak on either side and freakish orange eyes, and he always wore some kind of spider-web pattern camouflage uniform. He also had an annoying habit of disappearing and reappearing in other places with his stealth abilities.
The End was an ancient sniper who looked at least a hundred years old. He had no hair except for a bushy grey beard, and his entire body was covered with moss, the cause of his photosynthetic talents. Ocelot didn’t know much about him, as he was always asleep in his wheelchair.
Ocelot had hardly seen The Fury at all. He didn’t seem to like the company of other people, preferring to spend time alone. He was a demented-looking man who always wore a black Soviet spacesuit, complete with jetpack. He had the most horrible burns all over his face, the most likely reason why he usually wore his space helmet, and he kept muttering things about “Mission Control.”
None of the Cobras apart from The Boss spoke much, not even to Volgin. They only ever took orders from The Boss. She was the only person who seemed to know what they were up to.
The Boss’ frostiness towards Ocelot had melted days ago. Ocelot had quickly discovered that she was not nearly as sure of herself as she had first appeared to be. She kept her head whenever Volgin was around, but occasionally, Ocelot would catch her muttering to herself, usually about somebody called “The Sorrow.” Whoever he was, he sounded like another member of the Cobras, although when he asked her about it, she changed the subject abruptly.
She also refused to talk about Snake, whenever he tried to ask her about him. Ocelot wanted to know as much as he could about Snake, his real name, his age, what type of music he liked, anything, and he figured that if they had spent ten years together, she would have a lot to tell him. But she would never say a word.
Volgin, meanwhile, had been working all the scientists harder than ever, especially Sokolov. Now that the Shagohod was so near completion, he was more determined than ever to get it finished as soon as possible. He had transferred Sokolov to Graniny Gorki lab the previous day, and soon enough, he would be returned to Groznyj Grad to put the finishing touches on the weapon.
Ocelot had long since learned that the woman who was supposedly Sokolov’s lover was named Tatyana. Volgin had made use of her by inflicting pain on her mostly as punishment whenever Sokolov refused to cooperate with him, although sometimes for his own pleasure.
However, Volgin had also forced Tatyana to be his lover now, to Ocelot’s disgust. He still found something not quite right about her, and couldn’t shake the feeling that Volgin was somehow playing right into her hands, a suspicion that was elevated somewhat when he began letting her walk around wherever she liked.
He’d had many theories about what she might be doing here. Had the KGB somehow found out about his affiliation with the Americans, and sent her in to eliminate him? Or perhaps her target was Volgin?
Whatever Tatyana was up to, Ocelot was determined to find out. So now he was sitting in the lounge area of the East wing in Groznyj Grad, and Tatyana was sitting across from him, reading a magazine as though she actually had a right to be there.
Ocelot was staring at her, ready to react if she so much as blinked. Tatyana was studying her magazine, trying not to look at him.
The fact that she was so quiet all the time was what Ocelot found most unusual about her. It was as though she was afraid to say anything in case she gave herself away. She also seemed afraid of Ocelot – and he could guess why. He was on to her. And she knew it.
That and the smell. There was always the smell. Ocelot still hadn’t worked out exactly what it was, but he knew it was perhaps the most important clue in discovering the truth about Tatyana.
Tatyana turned a page of her magazine.
“I saw that,” Ocelot said. She must have pressed some kind of switch by doing that. Maybe a panic button or something, because she knew he was on to her.
Tatyana rolled her eyes, but said nothing. After a moment, she adjusted her glasses.
“I saw that, too,” Ocelot said. He guessed that those glasses had some kind of X-ray vision, so that she could see things she shouldn’t.
Tatyana sighed, but still she said nothing. There was a minute’s silence. Then she took out her lipstick.
“DON’T SHOOT ME WITH THAT!!” Ocelot shouted, whipping out his Makarov and pointing it right in Tatyana’s face.
“Ocelot!!” yelled a voice behind him. When he looked around, he saw The Boss striding towards them, looking livid. She snatched the Makarov out of Ocelot’s hand, and to his surprise, she pulled it apart with her bare hands.
“Hey!” he protested angrily, stepping towards her. But he quickly backed off as she raised her fists. After all, she was a legend for her fighting skills.
“Give her a break, will you?!” she said fiercely. “You’re not just driving her mental, you’re driving me mental as well, you know!”
She paused, calming herself. “Anyway, I need to talk to you.”
“I’ll talk to you later,” Ocelot said, glancing back at Tatyana and giving her a nasty look.
 “You’ll talk to me now,” she said firmly, grabbing his arm. She began leading him down the hallway.
“I’m on to you!” Ocelot shouted back at Tatyana, whose face was as white as a sheet.
“Will you stop it?!” The Boss said. “You’re acting like a child!”
Ocelot opened his mouth to answer back, then thought better of it. Even Volgin seemed afraid of her. It wasn’t wise to challenge her.
“We need to talk in private,” The Boss told him. “In here. Quick, before anyone sees us.”
She dragged him into a storeroom. Ocelot glanced around at the crates full of supplies before the door shut behind them. Then he looked expectantly at The Boss.
She turned to look at him. “Firstly, I know you’re a spy.”
“What?!” Ocelot said, in total shock. How did she know? He was a brilliant actor. Not to mention a brilliant spy, marksman, bachelor…
“Don’t worry,” The Boss said quickly. “Your cover’s still intact. I’m a spy, too.”
Ocelot’s reaction was a combination of a relieved sigh and a surprised intake of breath as she said this.
“I only found out because the DCI told me,” she said. “And he told me because I work for the CIA as well.”
“I knew you did before you defected,” Ocelot said. “But… the defection… It was all an act?”
The Boss nodded. “The Davy Crockett was a gift to gain Volgin’s trust. I was sent in to steal the Philosophers’ Legacy.”
Ocelot gasped. The Philosophers’ Legacy was a document that revealed the whereabouts of billions of dollars hidden all over the world. During the two world wars, America, China and the Soviet Union had pooled their resources and used this combined wealth to achieve their victory. After their success, the money was supposed to be divided equally between the three countries. But somehow, Volgin had taken complete control of the Legacy. America and China had ended up with nothing, but no one had managed to steal it from Volgin before.
“Why didn’t they give me that mission?” Ocelot wondered. “I’ve already infiltrated GRU.”
“Because,” The Boss said, “The CIA wants you to remain here as a spy. You could still get a lot of useful information for us. You couldn’t just steal the Legacy. It’s too big a risk to take.”
“I see,” Ocelot nodded. “But… The nuke… Sokolov’s facility… The CIA has ordered your assassination over this.”
“I know,” The Boss sighed. “I’d rather not talk about that.”
“OK…” Ocelot said slowly.
He was struck with a sudden, horrifying thought. “If the Director told you about me, does that mean Snake…?”
“Snake doesn’t know a thing about you,” said The Boss. “The unit he’s part of, FOX, isn’t officially a CIA unit yet. And even if it was, the Director would never tell him anything. He never tells his agents what any of the others are doing. I only got told because I’m… well… a legend.”
She said this last line hesitantly, as though she didn’t like to speak of herself this way. Ocelot had no idea why she should feel this way – if he was good at something, he was never afraid to show it.
“So I guess this means we’re working together,” Ocelot said. “You’re stealing the Legacy, I’m helping Snake.”
“Speaking of which,” The Boss said, suddenly stern. “I know you’re mad about what happened at the factory last week.”
Ocelot started to protest, but she interrupted him. “Don’t deny it. I saw the look on your face when I told you he was dead. You were disappointed, weren’t you? Because you wanted to kill him yourself.”
Ocelot didn’t say anything.
“Listen, Ocelot,” The Boss said seriously, glancing at the bullet hanging around his neck. “You can’t let your rivalry with Snake get in the way of this mission. He must succeed. The mission always comes before anything else.”
“You sound like you’re speaking from experience,” Ocelot said.
“I am,” she replied. “You asked about The Sorrow, did you not? Yes, you were right; he was one of the Cobras. More than that, we were in a relationship. But two years ago, I was given the mission to assassinate him.”
“What?!” Ocelot said in disbelief.
The Boss nodded, unsurprised by his reaction. “I carried out my mission because it was my duty. And you have to do the same. You’ve got to swallow your pride. The whole of the United States is depending on Snake’s success.”
“But that means that he’s got to kill you!” Ocelot protested.
The Boss nodded. “That’s right.”
“But you’re on our side!” Ocelot cried in frustration. “How can the CIA do this to you?”
“They’ve got no choice,” The Boss said. “I’ve got no choice. It’s the only way we can keep this whole situation a secret from the public, and prove to Khrushchev that we’re innocent. That’s the way it has to be.”
“But…”
“Not another word,” The Boss interrupted him, turning towards the door. “Just think about what I said.”
She reached the door, and then stopped. “Oh, I almost forgot. The Director wanted me to tell you you’ve got new orders. Apart from helping Snake reach this fortress, you’ve also got to help him rescue Sokolov and destroy the Shagohod. Make sure you do it.”
And she left the room, leaving Ocelot staring open-mouthed after her as she disappeared through the door.





Chapter Four


Late that night, The Boss took her horse and disappeared for a couple of hours. She returned early the next morning and went straight to Ocelot, who was getting a team of ten men ready to head back to the factory.
“I ambushed Snake on his way to the meeting,” she whispered, while the others were busy checking their weapons. “Obviously I can’t tell him the truth, but I planted a transmitter on him. If you ever need to know his exact location, just ask.”
“Thanks, Boss,” Ocelot said appreciatively. This was good news. It meant he’d be more likely to get a rematch with Snake.
He was all set for it. After The Boss had so kindly destroyed his Makarov, Ocelot had decided to take Snake’s advice about his being more suited to revolvers, and had managed to get hold of a beautifully engraved Single Action Army. He had practiced with it the previous evening – not only had he loved the new method of reloading, but it was even easier to do tricks with this gun than it had been with the Makarov. And when he bent his elbow to avoid the recoil as Snake had described, he found that it actually reduced the strain on his hand and arm. He couldn’t help thinking that Snake’s advice had been rather helpful.
The Boss quickly rushed away, trying not to look too suspicious in front of the other Ocelots. She had, of course, already told Volgin that Snake was in Tselinoyarsk. Ocelot had seen Volgin the night before to request permission to go after him. To his fury, Volgin had laughed and told him that he wouldn’t stand a chance, that the Cobras would take care of him in the end. But he gave him permission to go nonetheless.
To Ocelot’s surprise, Tatyana had not been with him. And he hadn’t seen her at all the night before. His suspicion thus increased even more. Where had she been all this time?
Ocelot immediately turned to face his men, eager to get going as soon as possible. “Let’s go,” he announced.
That was all his men needed to hear. They marched after their commander as he headed for the front gates.
They travelled for a couple of hours, arriving at the factory at dawn. When they reached the open gates, Ocelot held out a hand for his men to stop. He turned on his radio and called The Boss.
“Boss,” he said when she answered. “Snake is still here, isn’t he?”
“Yes,” she said. “It looks like he spent the night in the factory.”
“OK,” Ocelot said, nodding. “Just checking.”
He turned the radio off and gathered his men in a circle around him. They looked like a bunch of football players talking about the next play.
He pointed to a small contingent of his men. “You four check the room where they were keeping Sokolov last week,” he said. “That’s the most likely place he’d be. The rest of you, fan out. Don’t let him get away. Bring him to me – alive. Got it?”
“Yes, sir,” they all chanted, in a low chorus so that they wouldn’t betray their presence to anyone inside. And they split up.
Ocelot walked the perimeter of the factory, checking for any sign of Snake, but there was nothing. That meant he had to be in Sokolov’s room. The Ocelots would get him. Thinking this, he ducked behind some barrels near the fence that enclosed the area. Far from hiding away from the action, he was merely securing himself front-row seats for a spectacular show. Now that he knew what Snake was capable of, he was determined to see more of it. Snake was cornered in this factory, so how was he to get out? Somehow Ocelot knew he would find a way, and for now, he wanted to stand back and watch to see how he did it.
He waited about two minutes before he began to feel anxious – he had not seen Snake yet. He had heard two explosions earlier and seen two flashes of blinding white light – stun grenades. But the Ocelots hadn’t come running back to their commander with Snake in their grasp, so he guessed that the grenades hadn’t done the trick.
Ocelot was worried now – what if Snake had got away without anyone seeing him? But a moment later, he heard another explosion around the right-hand side of the factory, and saw one of his men go flying. There were shouts and screams. Snake was definitely still in the area – and by the sound of it, he’d taken out most, if not all, of the Ocelot unit.
Ocelot was about to head towards the screams to investigate, but he had barely taken two steps when something else caught his eye. There was a steel staircase in one corner of the factory, which led up to a raised wooden platform. On the platform was an oil drum, a couple of crates, and a person who was certainly not one of his own men.
Even at this distance, the person was undoubtedly a woman. She was wearing dark green boots and gloves, a jumpsuit and a helmet not unlike the ones Volgin’s GRU soldiers wore on flying platforms. The reason for the helmet was parked at the bottom of the stairs – a chunky German motorcycle with a large radio strapped to the back. Unfortunately, the helmet made it impossible to see the woman’s face.
It didn’t take Ocelot long to work out that she was an enemy. They had the factory completely surrounded. He hadn’t seen anyone coming in or going out, so that meant that she had to have been here to begin with. Which meant that she was working with Snake. How had she got around the Ocelot unit? It didn’t matter. Ocelot would take care of her now. Whoever she was, she had no business here.
The woman was rummaging around in some of the crates, her back to the stairs. Trying to make as little noise as possible, Ocelot sneaked over to the staircase and climbed it, pulling out his new Single Action Army as he approached the woman from behind. Quietly, he raised the gun, pointing the barrel at her back as he cocked his weapon.
Perhaps it was the click as he cocked it that alerted the woman to his presence. She whirled around, rising to her feet as she grabbed at the gun.
They struggled with the revolver, and it fired into the air a few times as each of them tried to gain control of it. But Ocelot was stronger than she was. He ripped the gun out of her hands, quickly drew his knife, grabbed her and held the knife to her throat.
But before either of them could do anything else, Ocelot looked down at the ground below them, and there he was, moving carefully through the courtyard, unaware of the pair above him.
Ocelot’s snarl immediately turned into a leer. “I’ve been waiting for this moment!”
Snake looked up quickly, pointing his gun at the pair of them. His reaction told Ocelot all he needed to know – Snake cared about what happened to her. They were definitely working together. What did that mean? As far as he knew, he was the only person who was supposed to be working with Snake. She had to be an impostor of some kind.
Ocelot looked down at Snake, his knife firmly secure next to the woman’s neck, his Single Action Army resting against her shoulder-blade. Snake was again standing in the same defensive position he had adopted during their last encounter.
“That’s it!” Ocelot cried, once again deeply amused as he gestured at Snake with the knife. “That’s the stance!”
Suddenly, the woman tried to pull away, evidently under the impression that Ocelot was distracted enough to let her twist out of his grasp. But he had been ready for this. He grabbed her around the waist, pulling her back towards him and pinning her arm against her chest. “I don’t think so!”
As a sort of punishment for trying to get away, he fondled her chest, faking a look of surprise. “Wha…? A female spy?”
The woman had no choice but to take this. She flinched as Ocelot held the knife up to her throat again, leaned close to her and sniffed. “This bitch is wearing perfume…”
Snake had been edging towards the stairs ever so slowly, but Ocelot quickly pointed his newly acquired revolver at him, and he froze.
“Stay where you are!” Ocelot demanded angrily. “I’ve had enough of your judo!”
“I see you’ve got yourself a Single Action Army,” Snake said, eyeing the weapon in his hand.
Ocelot raised it and examined it fondly, hiding his euphoria that Snake had noticed the new acquisition.
“That’s right,” he said proudly. “There’ll be no accidents this time.”
“You call that an accident?” Snake said, the corners of his mouth twitching. “Well… it wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t been showing off.”
Ocelot’s smile vanished.
“What did you say?!” he said furiously, his composure rapidly crumbling away.
“It’s a nice gun, I’ll give you that…” Snake admitted, winding Ocelot up even more, “…but the engraving gives you no tactical advantage whatsoever. Unless you were planning to auction it off as a collector’s item.”
Ocelot scowled angrily, pointing the gun more threateningly at Snake. Didn’t this guy ever give him a break?
“And you’re forgetting one more very basic thing,” Snake said, as though coming up to a dramatic climax.
Ocelot raised his eyebrows, wondering what this could possibly be.
Snake lowered his gun and relaxed his stance. “You don’t have what it takes to kill me.”
Ocelot froze, a line in his forehead deepening rapidly. Snake deserved some kind of punishment for that…
He was still standing there, torn between what The Boss had said about not letting Snake get to him and Snake’s provokingly cruel torments.
At last, arrogance and temptation overpowered his common sense. “We’ll see!”
He pulled the trigger, but to his surprise, nothing happened.
Oh no, not again, he thought.
He tried twice more to shoot Snake, but still nothing happened. The chamber was empty. He was out of ammo!
Ocelot stared at the gun in shock, but there was no time for him to rectify his mistake. Taking advantage of this momentary weakness, the woman suddenly broke free, kicking him in the face and knocking off his beret in the process.
Quickly, he brought his arm back to swing the knife at her, but she spun around and roundhouse kicked him, sending him flying off the platform. He landed hard on his back.
The woman jumped off the scaffold after him and landed cleanly on her bike. Ocelot quickly climbed to his feet as she revved the engine. Somehow, he had managed not to lose his grip on either his knife or his revolver as he fell.
Furiously, he charged towards the woman just as her bike roared into life, holding his knife aloft. But the woman sped towards him, and in one swift movement, she performed a spectacular back flip on the bike, hitting Ocelot squarely in the face with both wheels.
Ocelot was thrown backwards by the impact, this time losing his grip on both weapons. They flew high into the air, and he hit the ground hard, dazed and winded.
The woman landed her bike, sped over next to Snake and caught his knife on its way down. The Single Action Army landed in the dirt next to Ocelot.
“Six shots…” Snake muttered.
Ocelot sat up and shook his head from side to side, giving him a quizzical look. He smacked himself in the forehead a few times, trying to clear it. What was Snake talking about?
“That thing only carries six shots,” Snake pointed out, gesturing at the Single Action Army. “The Makarov carries eight. You have to get a feel for how many you have left.”
Ocelot got to his feet, picking up the revolver and staring at it in disbelief. Thinking back to when the gun had been set off repeatedly during the tussle over it, he quickly counted the number of shots that had been fired – six.
“This is a high-class weapon,” Snake told him. “It’s not meant for shooting people.”
Ocelot was still in shock. Snake had thwarted him, yet again. How could he forget something as important as how much ammo he had left? Snake wasn’t even impressed by this stupid gun…
“Damn!” he said irritably, twirling the revolver in his hand a few times before placing it back in its holster.
Then he realised that it was facing the wrong way. Too overwhelmed by anger to be embarrassed, he turned it the right way again, still glaring meaningfully at Snake.
He raised his hands and gave Snake his signature hand gesture, taking a step backwards. “This isn’t over yet!”
He turned and ran. He meant what he’d said. That had hardly been a rematch. He still had a chance to outwit Snake.
He didn’t go back for any of his men – he already knew that they would be dead by now. But that didn’t mean he was going to give up. He needed another plan.
When he had left the factory gates behind him, he pulled out his hand-held mirror, wrinkling his nose to make sure that it was not broken. To his horror, when he glanced at his reflection, he realised that he had a large tire imprint on his face. He looked absolutely ridiculous.
Cursing the mysterious woman for the humiliation she had caused him, he rubbed at the mark, but it wouldn’t come off. He would have to take care of it when he got back to the fortress. Frustrated, he grabbed his radio and called The Boss again.
“Ocelot?” she said when she answered. “Have you got him?”
“No,” Ocelot grumbled. “My guys are dead. Snake got away – and he’s got an accomplice.”
There was a pause. “Really?” The Boss said casually.
“Yeah,” Ocelot said. “Why, what do you know about it?”
“Nothing,” The Boss replied, a little too quickly. “Nothing at all.”
Ocelot frowned, but didn’t question her further. “The route I was supposed to show him… After he gets through the jungle, he’s supposed to pass the base and get into the cave through the crevice at Bolshaya Past.”
“And he’ll do that,” The Boss told him. “Snake knows about the route he’s supposed to follow, even though you couldn’t tell him.”
“How?” Ocelot asked curiously.
“Trust me,” The Boss said. Her tone made it perfectly clear that she didn’t want to discuss the matter any further.
“Where are you now?” Ocelot asked.
“At Graniny Gorki,” she said. “Volgin’s here, too. He wants to keep a closer eye on Sokolov, so he’s brought everyone down here for a few hours. Don’t go back to Groznyj Grad, Volgin wants you here, too.”
Ocelot grinned. That was good news – it meant that he’d have time to gather more of his men together and catch up with Snake again.
“Boss,” he said suddenly. “Get some of my men ready to head to the crevice. I’ll be back at the lab as soon as I can. We may have another chance to do this.”
“OK,” The Boss said, sounding surprised.
“And…” Ocelot said, smirking slightly, “…I’m going to need more guns.”





Chapter Five


A short while later, Ocelot had gone back to Graniny Gorki lab to retrieve more Ocelot unit soldiers before heading off to Bolshaya Past Crevice to lie in wait for Snake.
When he had returned to the lab, Ocelot had immediately paid a visit to the armoury there and found himself three more Single Action Army revolvers. None of them had any kind of engravings at all, but that was half the point – Snake had been unimpressed by the “high-class weapon” he had been using beforehand, which he had discarded immediately after arriving at the lab. When he practiced doing tricks with his new weapons, he was positively delighted to discover that his hands moved in perfect synchronisation, another talent which would be sure to impress Snake.
Tatyana had also returned, although nobody but Ocelot seemed to care where she had been. However, he did not have time to question her – he, the Ocelot unit and a few of Volgin’s own men had had to leave immediately if they wanted to cut Snake off before he entered the cave.
He had already told The Boss where he was going. He had not told her, however, that he planned to face Snake in a proper shootout before apprehending him and taking him to Groznyj Grad. He knew she would never approve, and it was more than likely that he would receive another lecture about not letting his rivalry with Snake interfere with his mission.
So now they were at the crevice. Both Volgin’s men and Ocelot’s were hidden among the trees on the side where Snake was expected to appear. Ocelot had given them explicit instructions that they were not to harm Snake, nor were they to do anything else until he gave them the signal.
Ocelot himself, meanwhile, remained on the other side of the crevice, hidden behind a rock as he surveyed the scene. He was feeling confident about this. He had two ammo belts, complete with holsters – one buckled around his waist, the other slung over his shoulder. Two of his new revolvers were nestled safely within the holsters, and he was itching to try them out.
The moment Snake emerged from those trees, Ocelot would reveal himself. The Ocelot unit would be behind him, and the crevice would be in front of him. There would be nowhere for him to go. And he would be unable to use any kind of judo on Ocelot, for there was no way for him to cross over to his side. He wouldn’t have a choice.
This area really was perfect for a shootout. The crevice was like a line that was impossible to cross, and there were plenty of hiding-places on both sides – rocks, trees, sand dunes. It was on the edge of a vast desert, with tumbleweed blowing across the dirt and disappearing into the crevice. It was around midday, so the sun was high overhead, just like in old western movies. With circumstances like these, Ocelot could hardly contain his excitement.
He waited for about ten minutes. He had no idea of the pace at which Snake moved, but he hoped that he would be there soon. Once or twice while he was leaning against the rock, he felt a stab of dread at the thought that Snake might have already passed through here, and that they had missed him.
He was on the verge of calling The Boss and checking Snake’s position again when at long last, Snake emerged from the edge of the trees, studying the crevice before him as though deciding how he was going to descend into it. It was a long drop, but Ocelot knew that the route Snake was to follow meant that he would have to pass through the cave below.
This was it. Standing up quickly, Ocelot strolled casually out from behind the rock, in plain view of Snake. His face was set in a smug smile as he examined Snake, whose expression gave nothing away.
“Ah, you’re here at last,” Ocelot said, without a trace of impatience. On the contrary, he was feverishly delighted that Snake was there at all. “Looks like The Boss’ info was right.”
Snake gave him a perplexing look, but Ocelot ignored him. Suddenly overcome by his desire for vengeance, he drew one of his revolvers, his speed and reflexes much more efficient than Snake’s as usual. Snake barely even had time to react; his hand was only halfway to his own weapon by the time Ocelot was pointing the barrel of his gun at him.
For a few seconds, neither of them moved. Ocelot was sorely tempted to shoot Snake, but thinking better of it, he lowered his weapon. He twirled it a few times before replacing it in its holster. Simply shooting Snake right here and now wasn’t enough. He wanted to do this properly.
“Twice now you’ve made me taste bitter defeat,” he said, a bite of the bitterness still residing in his voice.
He opened his mouth and let out the call of the ocelot, as he had done the week before. At once, his men appeared at the edge of the trees, aiming their weapons at Snake and blocking his escape route. Volgin’s men were behind them, making sure that no one else came along to disturb them.
Ocelot strolled to the edge of the crevice, standing directly opposite Snake. “I hate to disappoint the Cobras…” he sighed, “…but you’re mine now.”
He gave Snake his signature hand-gesture, then raised his hands, addressing his comrades. “All of you, leave us!”
His men lowered their weapons. Their commander only intended them to be spectators in this duel, not a part of it. Aside from preventing any escape attempts, their sole purpose for being there was to witness this great moment, the moment that Ocelot proved that he could beat Snake in a fair fight, without any help from the others.
“It’s just you and me,” Ocelot said eagerly. “No one to get in our way.”
He drew his two revolvers. “Ocelots are proud creatures. They prefer to hunt alone.”
He made a big show of twirling both weapons expertly in his hands, flipping them, catching them and doing as many of the most impressive tricks he could think of, anything to show that he was much better at this than Snake was. He finished by aiming both guns at Snake.
“Twelve shots,” Ocelot said, the corners of his mouth twitching slightly. He had come prepared this time.
He launched into a second stream of ostentatious gun-twirling, this time finishing by replacing both weapons back in their holsters.
“This time I’ve got twelve shots,” Ocelot said, a fierce gleam of determination sparkling in his eyes.
He scuffed his boots in the dirt, flexing the fingers of both hands, his finger poised above his two revolvers. Snake seemed to be going along with this – after all, he didn’t really have a choice. He too was flexing his fingers, ready to draw his weapon from the word go.
There was a few seconds of tense silence. “OK…” Ocelot said finally, eyeing Snake determinedly. “Draw!”
He drew his gun, once again much faster than Snake. But Snake had not done the same – instead, he had dived behind a rock to his left. Ocelot’s shot missed him by inches as he dived out of sight.
Ocelot was amazed. “How’d you dodge that one?”
Quickly, he retreated behind the tree furthest from the crevice. This tree was particularly wide, so it was probably the safest place to hide if he needed to. However, he didn’t intend on hiding unnecessarily – he was not afraid of Snake.
With this thought in mind, he came out from behind the tree, running to hide behind a rock closer to the crevice. But this turned out to be a mistake – Snake had been peering out from his own hiding-place, and fired a shot at him. The bullet hit him in the foot and he stumbled, but managed to stay on his feet.
“Nice shot!” Ocelot admitted, ducking behind the rock.
With the distance between them, there was little chance that he and Snake would severely wound each other unless they were both standing directly opposite each other on the very edge of the crevice. However, Ocelot also knew that Snake was in much more danger than he was at any point during the battle, what with the Ocelot unit mere metres behind him. He only hoped that they wouldn’t be too tempted to shoot Snake should he threaten Ocelot in any way.
But it turned out that he was wrong.
“Major! Backing you up!” yelled one of the Ocelots. He looked around at his comrades. “Shoot him!”
No! Ocelot thought, horrified as his men opened fire on Snake. Snake dived for cover behind a tree to avoid the bullets.
Ocelot was furious. He didn’t need protection; this was supposed to be a fair fight! And what would happen if they killed Snake? The United States would never be the same again…
“Stay out of this!” he ordered his men angrily.
“Major…” the soldier protested, but he and the others reluctantly lowered their weapons.
Suddenly, Ocelot heard a gunshot and felt something fly past him. Quickly, he retaliated by firing several rounds at Snake. One of them hit him in the shoulder, and he spun into the rock, gasping at the sting.
“How’d that one taste?” Ocelot cried gleefully, running to hide behind the tree again. That had felt good.
Ocelot waited with his back against the tree, ready to jump out and fire at Snake again. But then, without warning, something fell at his feet, barely missing him from above.
“What the-?” Ocelot said.
To his horror, when he looked down to see what it was, he saw a large hornets’ nest, crumpled and broken on the ground. The hornets emerged from the nest and immediately attacked him, clinging at his clothes and stinging his skin.
Desperately, Ocelot tore out from behind the tree, raising his revolvers as he tried to fend them off. “Shoo! Get out of here!”
The twirling seemed to be working – the revolvers worked like propellers, slicing up the hornets as they flew at him. But there was no way he could concentrate on the fight if they kept attacking him.
“Get away from me!” he cried irritably. But just as he shooed the last of them away, he felt a sharp pain in his arm – Snake had shot him while he was distracted.
“Son-of-a-!” he screamed furiously, disappearing behind the closest rock. “You got me!”
Although he was hidden, he knew that wouldn’t stop Snake. Peering over the top of the rock, he saw that Snake was edging around a tree on his own side of the crevice, trying to get a clear shot at him.
Quickly, Ocelot moved around the other side of the rock. Snake had carelessly left his back exposed, and this gave Ocelot an easy shot. Snake jolted forwards as the bullet hit him.
“You’re all talk, huh?” Ocelot jeered at him. He was now out of ammo, so he quickly ducked behind a sand dune to reload his revolvers.
But like Snake, he had carelessly not hidden himself well enough. And like Snake, he jolted forwards as he was hit from behind.
“Touché!” Ocelot nodded, impressed. He retreated further behind the sand dune so that he was completely out of sight, then began inserting more ammo into the chamber of his first revolver. Once again, he felt a sense of adrenaline more powerful than anything he had ever felt before.
“Amazing!” he said to himself. “I never knew reloading could be so thrilling in the middle of battle…”
He was loving this. Spinning the chamber of his second revolver, he quietly praised Snake for recommending such a fantastic weapon. “Thank you, thank you for teaching me the joy of the revolver!”
When he had emerged from his hiding place, Ocelot saw Snake straight away – he was lying in the grass a short distance from the crevice, plainly trying to use his camouflage to make it harder for Ocelot to see him. However, the bloodstains in his clothes were a big giveaway.
Quickly, Ocelot fired two bullets in Snake’s direction. He rolled out of the way just in time.
“You think I can’t see you?” Ocelot said scathingly, not even bothering to hide as Snake ducked behind a tree. He was actually disappointed – he had expected much better from Snake.
He raised his revolvers, ready to fire as soon as Snake made an appearance. But after ten seconds, he still hadn’t moved from behind the tree.
“Come out and fight, you coward!” he demanded impatiently. “You won’t get away from me!”
Ten more seconds and still no reaction. No problem. He knew how to handle this…
Ocelot aimed carefully at a rock to the left of the tree where Snake was hiding, and fired. To his delight, the bullet ricocheted off the rock’s surface, and the cry of pain from behind the tree told him that he had managed to hit his target.
“I can shoot there, too!” Ocelot cried, loudly enough for Snake to hear him as he let out a hearty laugh. “There are no safe places. My shots will follow you wherever you go!”
He grinned proudly as the rest of the Ocelot unit started laughing, too.
“All right, commander!” one of his men cheered, punching a fist into the air.
Now that he had been shot once while he was behind that tree, Ocelot knew that Snake would have to move to another hiding place. So this time he was prepared when Snake leapt out from behind the tree and fired at him as quickly as he could. He moved out of range just before Snake pulled the trigger, and fired in retaliation before ducking for the cover of a nearby rock. Snake took the shot in the arm, and ducked behind the tree again.
“See my technique?” Ocelot boasted, checking his revolvers to discover that he had run out of ammo again. “It was perfect!”
“Major, that’s the way!” one of his soldiers shouted.
Ocelot grinned again as he began reloading his first revolver, once again filled with adrenaline. “I’ve never felt the tension like this before… That’s so different from simply changing a clip!”
He changed guns, filling the chamber of his second revolver. “Reloading like this… it’s a revolution!”
But just as he finished loading it, his beret suddenly flew off his head, landing in the dirt with a large hole in it. Glancing up, Ocelot saw that Snake had climbed the tree on his side of the crevice, and was now aiming down at him from above!
“Major! Watch out!” one of his men shouted a warning. He and the others again fired at Snake, who jumped out of the tree, lost his footing on the edge of the crevice and fell into the chasm!
Ocelot darted forwards in horror, but to his relief, Snake had managed to grab hold of the very edge of the cliff.
“Hold your fire!” Ocelot ordered his men, quickly snatching up his beret. To his disgust, he saw that it was completely ruined.
Snake was pulling himself up to come level with Ocelot again. Ocelot did not fire at him while he pulled himself to safety, but once he had stood up, he whipped out his revolver and pulled the trigger. Snake managed to dodge the shot – just. The bullet passed inches from his face.
“Too fast for that one, eh?” Ocelot said, once again impressed.
Snake had ducked behind the tree again. Ocelot again aimed at the rock to the left of the tree and fired. Again the bullet ricocheted off the rock’s surface, but this time he only heard the splintering of tree bark – he had missed.
“Fight like you mean it!” Ocelot cried in frustration. He ran back towards the tree to reload again. “I can feel it now! The rhythm, the pulse, the heat of battle…”
Although he didn’t realise it, he was getting careless in his state of exhilaration while he reloaded. A moment later, he felt a stabbing pain in his elbow, which he had left exposed, and he realised that Snake had managed to hit him again.
“I felt that!” he said, jerking his arm out of sight.
“Major!” one of his men protested again. “I can’t just sit back and watch!”
He and the others attempted to shoot Snake for a third time. Snake took cover behind a nearby rock, but this time the bullets had come dangerously close.
Ocelot was livid. “I told you to stay out of this!” he cried, glowering fiercely at his comrades.
“Major…” the soldier said, looking crestfallen. “I… I understand.”
Although he was busy raging at his disobedient men, Ocelot did not let his guard down. Watching Snake out of the corner of his eye, he saw him raise his pistol again. Quick as a flash, he raised his own gun and fired quickly, hitting not Snake, but the pistol, knocking it out of his hands.
“From that range, huh?” Ocelot bragged delightedly, ducking behind the closest rock. He waited a few seconds, breathing fast, and then leapt out from behind it. Quickly, he brought up both his revolvers, pointing the barrels at Snake, who reacted fast, pointing his own weapon at Ocelot again.
Ocelot clenched his teeth, about to pull the trigger. But before he or Snake could do so, something caught his eye. Three or four large hornets were flying above his head.
Snake had noticed them, too. The hornets flew around their heads in a sort of figure-eight motion, buzzing noisily.
It didn’t take Ocelot long to work out what was going on.
“Damn it!” he cried irritably. “He found us!”
And just after he said this, the horrible feeling he had had since the first of the hornets had appeared was elevated to its maximum as an enormous swarm of The Pain’s hornets flew through the trees towards them like a massive black tornado.
The hornets were attacking everyone in the area. Ocelot drew his revolvers and began twirling them again, slicing up the hornets as he had before. He was getting rather good at this by now, and despite the large number of them, he had not received a single sting.
Snake was trying to fight them off by swinging his knife, but there were simply too many of them. The rest of the Ocelot unit were screaming and swatting at the hornets, but it was no use. All of them were stung to death – one soldier even ripped off his balaclava in a frenzy, revealing a horribly swollen face from the stings he had received, like a wrinkled prune.
Ocelot backed away towards the large tree as he fought off the hornets. He ducked behind it, killing a few more of them before replacing the revolvers in their two holsters.
He glanced back at Snake, who was still swinging his knife like a madman to repel the hornets.
“You were lucky,” he said, pointing at Snake. “We’ll meet again!”
He darted away, back across the desert. He couldn’t risk helping Snake just now – it would be too obvious. He just hoped that Snake would be able to get himself out of situations like this, without his help, more often.





Chapter Six


Ocelot returned to Graniny Gorki lab late that afternoon, once again alone, having lost another dozen or so men. Once there, he went straight to The Boss and demanded to know why she had sent The Pain to keep tabs on him.
“Because I still don’t trust you to do the right thing,” she replied heatedly. “I sent The Pain after you to make sure you were actually helping Snake, not trying to kill him. And I was right, wasn’t I? You were playing some stupid game with him, trying to prove you could beat him.”
“But…” Ocelot argued. “…he showed me up… he…”
“Will you stop thinking about yourself for just one second?!” The Boss snapped at him. “If you won’t do it for America, at least do it for me, will you? He is my apprentice, remember. I don’t want him to get hurt.”
Ocelot was speechless. He hadn’t thought of that.
“Anyway…” The Boss continued, “…don’t go after Snake again. He’s already killed half your men. Somehow I don’t think he’ll be taken to Groznyj Grad easily… We’ll just have to let him find his own way.”
“But won’t that look suspicious?” Ocelot said, searching for any excuse to find and challenge Snake again. “If I stop looking for Snake, the colonel might think I’m not trying hard enough…”
“No,” said The Boss. “I’m sending the Cobras after him. You’ve already tried twice with no success. Volgin won’t be at all surprised if we try another approach.”
Ocelot scowled, but didn’t say anything.
“I told The Pain to cut off Snake’s path through the cave a while ago,” she said. “None of the Cobras have any idea that I’m a spy. They think my defection is completely genuine, and they usually just do whatever I do. So of course, they won’t just be pretending to try to kill Snake…”
“What?!” Ocelot said quickly. “So they’re actually going to…? Are you crazy?! He’ll be killed!”
“Do you honestly believe that?” The Boss said, raising her eyebrows at him. “You’ve seen for yourself what he can do. I have complete faith in Snake. He is my apprentice, after all. I think he can beat the Cobras.”
“In that case…” Ocelot said suddenly, “…why were you so afraid that I might be able to kill him?”
“Because I’ve never seen determination like yours before,” The Boss told him. “It’s unnatural, unhealthy. People who obsess over things as much as you do start to develop skills they never even knew they had.”
“Yeah, well…” Ocelot grumbled, “…I would have been able to beat Snake if I knew how to do all that judo stuff…”
“It’s not judo, it’s CQC,” The Boss said irritably. “Close-Quarters Combat. Snake and I developed it together.”
“You helped design those kinds of moves?” Ocelot said in irritable disbelief.
“Yes, I did,” The Boss said coldly. “And I’ll thank you not to speak ill of them. Now, I’m going to find The Pain. He should have been back by now. And you should let Volgin know that you’re here.”
She walked away, throwing her travelling cloak over her shoulders. Ocelot sighed and left to find the colonel, thinking hard about what The Boss had said.


By sunset, The Boss had not returned. Ocelot wasn’t worried – she could definitely take care of herself.
Right now, he was sitting on the edge of the dock outside the warehouse to the south of the lab, staring into the murky water.
As had been the case for the past couple of days, he was having a furious battle with himself – get revenge on Snake, or save the United States from a nuclear attack? He still was not satisfied, even after the duel at the crevice, for it had not left him as the clear winner.
He closed his hand around the bullet hanging around his neck, gazing at nothing in particular. It really was a tough decision…
Maybe he could somehow get his revenge on Snake without hampering his mission?
No. He couldn’t do that. He knew the only way he would be satisfied would be to shoot Snake with this bullet, the bullet that would have prevented all of this from happening if only his Makarov hadn’t jammed.
He sat up straight, the determination in his eyes more pronounced than ever. He had made his decision.
At that moment, he heard a commotion behind him. To his surprise, when he glanced up, he saw Sokolov just outside the main door of the warehouse, resisting the efforts of one of Volgin’s men, who was trying to force him through the door. It looked to Ocelot like Sokolov had been trying to escape from the lab.
“Get your hands off me!” Sokolov was saying, jerking his arm out of the guard’s grip. “I’m not going anywhere!”
Looking to the right, Ocelot saw Volgin appear through the entrance on the right-hand side of the warehouse, accompanied by Tatyana. He couldn’t suppress a smile – he knew what was coming.
“Really now,” Volgin said impatiently to Sokolov. “How many times must I tell you?”
He placed a hand on Tatyana’s shoulder, and she let out a scream as he sent a powerful electric charge through her body. Her knees buckled and she collapsed, rolling down the stone staircase and landing in a heap at the bottom.
“Tanya!” Sokolov cried despairingly, rushing forwards to help her up. But the guard pushed him back.
Volgin came down the stairs after Tatyana, sighing as though he was tired of saying the same thing over and over again. “Each time you resist, your lover will suffer the consequences. Is that clear?”
“Volgin!!” Sokolov cried furiously, lunging at him. But he was thrust backwards by the guard, who pointed his rifle threateningly at him.
Sokolov still looked tempted to attack Volgin, but he couldn’t do anything with the gun pointed at him. “Damn you!!”
Volgin reached down and grabbed Tatyana by the scruff of her neck, lifting her clean off her feet. He fondled her chest, then gave her another electric shock. She moaned in pain, and her muscles seized up so much that she tore enormous holes through her tights.
Volgin let go of her, and she fell to her knees. Breathing heavily, she retrieved her glasses, which had fallen off when Volgin had shocked her the second time, and placed them back on her nose.
Tatyana’s pain over and done with, Ocelot came to his senses. He stood up and strolled towards them, just as the guard shoved Sokolov towards the door again.
“Hold it right there, traitor!” Ocelot said to Sokolov, drawing one of his revolvers.
The guard grabbed the back of Sokolov’s coat and heaved him back towards Ocelot, who flipped his gun under his arm, caught it, and pointed it in Sokolov’s face.
Sokolov whimpered in terror, but Ocelot didn’t shoot him. He had something much more fun in mind.
He twirled the gun a few more times and produced a solitary bullet, holding it up so that Sokolov could see. “Let’s find out just how lucky you are.”
He loaded the bullet into the gun and spun the chamber.
“Watch closely!” he told Sokolov, twirling the gun a few more times. He pulled out two more revolvers and showed them to him.
“One of these three guns has a single bullet in it,” he said. “I’m going to pull the trigger six times in a row. Are you ready?”
Sokolov gasped apprehensively. Ocelot ignored him and began juggling the three revolvers expertly, not taking his eyes off Sokolov.
There was a loud click as he pulled the trigger for the first time. Sokolov winced horribly. The second time he pulled the trigger, there was still nothing.
After three more renditions with no shot being fired, Sokolov collapsed to the ground and peed his pants.
“Huh,” Ocelot said indifferently as he continued to juggle the revolvers. “Looks like your luck hasn’t run out yet…”
Sokolov wailed softly as he sat with his back against a stack of crates. Ocelot tossed one of the guns high into the air, intending to pull the trigger a sixth time. However, before he had a chance to do so, a hand reached out, caught the revolver and fired it into the water.
The Boss had finally returned from her journey. She gave Ocelot a very stern look, gripping the gun in her outstretched hand.
“There’s no such thing as luck on the battlefield,” she said, her eyes boring into his.
Ocelot lowered his eyes, feeling ashamed. The Boss couldn’t say anything in front of Volgin, but he knew he was going to get a serious talking to about this later.
Volgin threw back his head and cackled, oblivious to the tension between the two of them. He gave the guard a meaningful jerk of his head, and he pulled Sokolov to his feet and shoved him through the doors of the warehouse, back towards the lab.
“You’d better stay in line from now on,” The Boss scolded angrily.
Ocelot didn’t reply, but reached out for the revolver she still had in her hand.
She held it out of his reach. “The Cobras will take care of him,” she reminded him.
It was the safest way of telling Ocelot that he was in big trouble, at least in front of Volgin. She thrust the gun into his chest.
But to his surprise, she had pulled it apart with her bare hands. He gave her a look of protest, but she only glared at him.
Shaking his head irritably at her, he stomped back inside the warehouse, letting out a cry of frustration. Another gun, useless.
Ocelot passed The End as he walked through the warehouse, but he ignored him and headed back towards the lab. There was little else he could do but wait for The Boss to return after she was done with her report to Volgin.
When he entered the lab, he dropped into a chair in the waiting room. Uninterested in any of the magazines there, he began playing with one of his revolvers, sighing as he thought about the mess he was in.
“Major?”
Ocelot looked up to see Granin walking towards him, staggering slightly with a hip-flask in his hand.
Aleksandr Leonovitch Granin was a corpulent man with greying hair and a wizened old face that made him look like a bulldog. His eyes were glazed over, and he was wearing a blue pinstriped suit. He had originally been responsible for producing a powerful new weapon for Volgin – before Sokolov came along. This entire lab had been built for his research, and that money had come out of the Philosophers’ Legacy. Now this lab was being used for Sokolov’s research, and it was well-known among the GRU that Granin was not at all happy about this.
“What is it, Granin?” Ocelot sighed.
“I just wanted to know if you were all right, sir,” Granin asked him, trying to drop into a chair next to him, but almost missing the chair completely. “You don’t look so good.”
“You don’t look too good yourself,” Ocelot said, eyeing the flask in his hand.
Granin raised the flask to his lips and took a long swig of whatever liquid was inside. “Keeps me going, sir. I’ve got nothing else to do around here, really.”
Indeed he was right – now that Sokolov was here, Volgin had no use for him at all. Ocelot couldn’t help feeling a little sorry for him.
“Granin,” Ocelot said suddenly, taking his eyes from his spinning revolver to look at the old man. “Have you ever had to choose between your job and your dignity?”
“My job was my dignity,” Granin replied. “Without it, I’ve got nothing.”
“But say your job was stopping you doing something to retain your self-respect,” Ocelot said. “What would you do?”
Granin paused, apparently in deep thought about this. “I don’t know really. Can’t say I’ve been in that position myself.”
Ocelot nodded and turned back to his revolver, disappointed.
“Chin up,” Granin told him, slapping him on the back. “Whatever’s the matter, I’m sure you’ll work it out. Drink?”
He held the flask out to Ocelot, who shook his head. “No thanks.”
Granin stared more closely at him. “I’ve got something that should cheer you up…”
He produced a folder from somewhere and handed it to Ocelot, who took it reluctantly.
“Photocopies of all my design plans,” Granin said proudly, as Ocelot opened the folder and glanced over the diagrams that were inside. “All the data I needed to build my own weapon, ‘Metal Gear.’ It’s useless to me now, but you can use it however you please.”
“Really?” Ocelot said interestedly, studying the diagrams inside more closely. They showed what looked like a walking tank – a walking nuclear weapon. How could Volgin have passed this up?
“Thanks a lot, Granin,” Ocelot said, feeling a little lighter than before.
“Glad you’re happy,” Granin said, delighted. “Well, I’d better get back to my office. Got lots of drinking to do. See you tomorrow, sir.”
He gave a casual wave as he stood up and disappeared down the hall, almost tripping over a table as he went.
Ocelot stared after him for a few seconds before the front door crashed open and The Boss walked in, an expression of utmost fury on her face.
“Ocelot,” she said through gritted teeth. “We need to talk.”
“OK,” Ocelot said softly, drawing back slightly, afraid that she might unleash a stream of CQC moves on him. “Let’s talk.”
“What is the MATTER with you?!” she exploded, as though she’d been dying to say this to him for the last half hour. “You know part of Snake’s mission is to rescue Sokolov! And you risk his life with one of your childish games?!”
“I…” Ocelot stammered, trying to think of a good excuse. “I wasn’t…”
“That’s right, you weren’t thinking!” The Boss shouted at him. “Do you realise that the fate of the entire United States is in your hands?! Does that even matter to you?!”
“Of course it does!” Ocelot protested. “But…”
“Stop,” she said, holding up a hand to silence him. “Just stop it, Ocelot. Leave me alone. Don’t even talk to me.”
And she turned around and left the building, her cloak billowing out behind her.
Ocelot simply sat there, staring after her. He was in shock. He knew what he had done was bad, but he hadn’t thought it was that bad. Now it looked as though The Boss would never speak to him again.
He sat in silence, hardly daring to move. After about ten minutes, the door opened again and Volgin walked in, followed by Tatyana.
“Ocelot,” Volgin said when he saw him. “We’re going back to Groznyj Grad. Sokolov’s work is done here.”
“What about The Pain?” Ocelot said suddenly. “The Boss didn’t say…?”
“The Pain is dead,” Volgin said bitterly, clenching his fists. “It would appear that we have underestimated that infernal American…”
Ocelot felt his spirits raise slightly, but then Volgin said, “The Boss assigned that task to The Fear. And The End and The Fury are standing by in case he fails. Don’t worry, we’ll get him. And when I get my hands on him…”
Ocelot swallowed. Defeating The Pain was one thing, but there were still three more Cobras to go, not including The Boss.
“We’re leaving tonight,” Volgin said. “Gather your men together and let’s go.”





Chapter Seven


By the next morning, everyone was back at Groznyj Grad, and Volgin was in a good mood. The Phase Two trial of the Shagohod was scheduled for that afternoon, and if it was successful, then he would be able to start mass-production anytime. The Cobras were close on Snake’s tail, and he had already hinted to Ocelot that he had spent an “unforgettable” night with Tatyana, to Ocelot’s disgust.
Ocelot had tried desperately to get The Boss to talk to him that morning, but whenever he did, she acted as though he were invisible. He could tell that she wouldn’t be forgiving him any time soon for what he had done.
The End had left early that morning to relieve The Fear in case he was not successful in eliminating Snake, although nobody but The Boss knew exactly where he was going. Ocelot, of course, was dying to know, but The Boss seemed to have classed him as unworthy of that information, and appeared to go deaf whenever he mentioned it.
Volgin’s good mood lasted until the afternoon, when one of his men informed him that Khrushchev’s forces were on their way to the fortress with the intention of regaining control of the Shagohod, and that they would have to tighten security. Not only that, but The Boss had given him the news that Snake had not only reached the lab where Sokolov had been only the evening before, but also passed through the locked door of the warehouse into the jungle at the foot of the mountains.
“Damn it!” Volgin said, his eyes narrowing fiercely. “We had that door locked for a good reason! How could he have gotten through it without a key?”
Ocelot was forced to sit down and listen to Volgin’s theories about how Snake had managed to get this far.
“…Someone must be helping him,” Volgin concluded. “We must have a spy in our midst! The American could not have gotten this far without inside help!”
“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you, colonel,” Ocelot said, trying not to let his voice slip into the “I-told-you-so” tone. He was not worried that he would be found out – it had not been he who let Snake through that door. It was not he who was arousing Volgin’s suspicion.
“Granin was the only person who had the key to that door,” Volgin muttered to himself. “He must want revenge for choosing Sokolov over him…”
“Granin, sir?” Ocelot said in surprise. He had not imagined Granin as the spying type, and what about Tatyana? Was Volgin going to ignore that possibility completely?
“Yes…” Volgin said, coming to a decision. “Yes… Well, he’ll be sorry he ever spied on Colonel Volgin when I get done with him. Ocelot, send some men over to the Main wing. I want Granin in the torture room as soon as possible. I’ll get a confession out of him if it’s the last thing I do!”
“Yes, sir,” Ocelot said hesitantly, standing up. He was not at all certain that Volgin’s accusations would be correct, but there was no choice but to follow his orders.


The Boss had left on her horse a short while ago, without telling Ocelot where she was going. However, he knew that she had had no word from either The Fear or The End, and the most likely assumption was that she had set out to find them. As far as Ocelot was concerned, no news was good news, for it probably meant that Snake had managed to defeat both The Fear and The End.
Tatyana had wandered off as well, which Ocelot again found deeply suspicious. He still did not trust her, but had not yet been able to find enough evidence to prove anything about her. He was almost certain that it was she who was helping Snake, although he couldn’t work out why. After all, the KGB had already assigned Ocelot the mission of assisting him, and he couldn’t work out why they would send in another spy without telling him. She had to be an impostor of some kind. Perhaps she was only pretending to help Snake, and her position here was purely for her own good…
Wondering how Granin’s interrogation was going, Ocelot left the East wing and headed towards the prison, an enormous stone building in the southeast section of the fortress.
But just as he passed one of the trucks outside the wing, he almost bumped into Major Raikov, who had been strolling around the side.
Blonde-haired and blue-eyed, Major Ivan Raidenovitch Raikov was known to be Volgin’s “other” lover. Because of this, he was treated as the same rank as Volgin, even though he was only a Major just like Ocelot.
Ocelot did not like Raikov. He often felt frustrated that he was treated as a higher rank simply because of his relationship with Volgin – what real accomplishments had he ever achieved to earn that right?
Nevertheless, he gave Raikov a sharp salute. Volgin would never forgive him if he didn’t at least appear to treat him with respect.
Raikov returned the salute. “At ease,” he said in his annoyingly effeminate voice. “Are you going to see the colonel now?”
“Yes sir,” Ocelot mumbled.
“Then can you give him a message from me?”
“Sure,” Ocelot sighed.
“Tell him I’ll meet him in his room at ten o’clock tonight.”
Ocelot could taste the vomit in his mouth. He barely managed not to gag as he nodded at Raikov. “Yes sir.”
“Thank you,” Raikov said, and he headed off towards the East wing.
Ocelot turned his back on him and proceeded towards the prison. He wasn’t going to be a messenger for a queer pretty-boy like Raikov… No way would he pass on a message like that.
As he strode towards the prison, he saw that Volgin and Granin were outside. Volgin, it seemed, had had to resort to desperate measures to coax the information out of his victim. Granin’s body was lying on the ground near Volgin, his face badly burnt from electrical burns, a puddle of blood oozing from somewhere underneath him. Empty oil drums were scattered everywhere; Ocelot wondered what Volgin had been doing with them.
“Colonel,” he said as he approached Volgin. “Did he talk?”
Volgin stared down at Granin’s corpse with a sense of satisfaction.
“No,” he said, to Ocelot’s surprise. “He died before I could get it out of him.”
Ocelot turned his eyes upon Granin as well, looking shocked. “He wasn’t the spy, then?”
Volgin ignored him. He knelt down, grabbed Granin’s foot and prised the sole of his shoe away. He took something out and showed it to Ocelot. “Look at this.”
Ocelot moved closer to examine the object. “A transmitter?”
“Exactly,” Volgin replied. “Planted to keep someone informed of his location.”
Ocelot was speechless. A transmitter small enough to put in a shoe… That sounded like something the KGB had been working on lately. Did that mean that the KGB had sent in another spy after all? Unlikely…
Suddenly, Volgin destroyed the transmitter with an electric charge, sending a shower of sparks into Ocelot’s face.
Ocelot cried out and shielded his eyes. Volgin was unable to hide a smile as he let the transmitter fall to the ground.
“But…” Ocelot said, deciding not to protest as moved past Volgin, “…does this mean Granin was the spy?”
“Perhaps he was being used by someone else,” Volgin suggested.
Ocelot whirled around angrily. “Perhaps?!”
He gestured at Granin’s corpse. “This man was our comrade!”
Volgin was unconcerned. “Comrade or not, he’s of no use to us now.”
Ocelot was beside himself. “I don’t approve of your methods!” he said furiously as he walked right up to Volgin, challenging him.
Volgin, however, towered over Ocelot. He glared fiercely at him. “I don’t need your approval,” he snarled. “I’m in command here.”
Ocelot held his ground for a few seconds, glaring back at him. But at last, he decided he’d better not pick a fight with a superior officer.
He settled for shaking a finger at him. “And that nuclear shell…”
“Still feeling sore about that, are you?” Volgin scoffed.
Ocelot turned his back on him, folding his arms sulkily and casting him a sullen look. It had been Volgin’s fault that he was in this dilemma in the first place, and he would never forgive him for that.
“What are you going to do, report it to the authorities?” Volgin said sceptically.
Ocelot didn’t say anything.
“This is war, Major,” Volgin told him reproachfully. “A Cold War, fought with information and espionage. We must root out spies wherever they hide.”
He moved closer to Granin’s corpse, staring down at it in satisfaction. “It is kill or be killed. Potential threats must be weeded out. Your feelings are a menace to the unity of our organisation.”
Ocelot was silent throughout Volgin’s lecture, but the expression on his face was most forbidding, and he still disagreed with his barbaric policies. He was liking Volgin less and less every day. There was so much he had done…
Volgin brandished a fist. “Someone is guiding the enemy’s hand. A single man can only accomplish so much. Make no mistake – there is a spy among us…”
Ocelot turned to face Volgin again, protesting even further. “But casting suspicion on our own comrades…”
Volgin interrupted him. “The C3 explosives have been stolen.”
“You think it was the American?” Ocelot asked, finally abandoning his argument.
“No,” Volgin said, turning and looking up into the mountains around them. “He could not have reached this fortress yet…”
Ocelot raised his hands, apparently at a loss for an answer to his question: “Then… who?”
Before Volgin could answer, a voice nearby said, “I’d be careful about suspecting your own men.”
“Boss?” said Volgin as she walked towards them, carefully avoiding Ocelot’s eyes. She had a crossbow in her hand and she was leading her horse behind her.
Tatyana also chose that moment to appear. She tried to sneak past Volgin without being noticed, but Ocelot caught her, immediately turning towards her and narrowing his eyes.
“Where have you been?” he demanded suspiciously.
Tatyana turned away from him with a guilty look on her face. But before Ocelot could interrogate her further, The Boss announced, “The Fear and The End have fallen.”
She tossed the crossbow onto the ground in front of them. It was the Little Joe that had belonged to The Fear.
Completely distracted, Ocelot bent and picked up the crossbow, examining it closely. Snake had done it… He had beaten two more of the Cobras! He could barely believe it.
Volgin, meanwhile, was ropeable. “Damn it!”
He punched one of the oil drums, denting it severely. Tatyana jumped and shielded her face from the sparks emitted by his anger.
“CIA dog!” Volgin growled. “That leaves only The Fury!”
Ocelot began twirling the crossbow in his hand, feeling strangely wistful.
“How can the legendary Cobras be beaten so easily?!” Volgin snarled furiously.
“He’s good…” Ocelot muttered, a note of admiration in his voice.
He hadn’t meant to say it aloud. Volgin scowled at his words. “Fallen for him?”
Ocelot stopped twirling the crossbow, but said nothing.
The Boss broke the tension. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of him.”
“What is he after?” Volgin wondered aloud, as The Boss remounted her horse. “It must be more than just Sokolov…”
“America is out to destroy the Shagohod and get its hands on your inheritance,” The Boss answered without hesitation. The sky was growing dark and cloudy, and she looked more radiant than ever, silhouetted against the stormy sky. “The Philosophers’ Legacy.”
“What?!” Volgin said, lightning flashing and thunder rumbling overhead. “Impossible! The Legacy… it…”
But he seemed lost for words. The sky was clearing up even as they spoke, which Ocelot found most unusual.
The Boss was staring up at the sky blankly as though she was thinking the same thing, but she quickly snapped out of it, turning back to Volgin. “And they’re out to kill me, as well. Colonel, tighten the security on this place. He’s coming here – I’m sure of it!”
Her horse reared up on its hind legs and whinnied loudly.
“I’m going to get the Davy Crockett,” The Boss announced, and she rode off towards the main building. Volgin hesitated for a moment, then followed her. Now only Ocelot and Tatyana remained.
Ocelot started to leave, but suddenly he turned his head to look at Tatyana, remembering that she had not yet given him an answer as to where she had been for the past few hours.
He walked over to her, leaned in close and sniffed deeply. She moved away from him, looking frightened.
Ocelot looked up at her suspiciously, raising a finger to his temple as he remembered something.
“Perfume…” he muttered, his eyes still on Tatyana.
He circled her once, twirling the crossbow in his hand and considering her with deep suspicion.
When he stopped, he stared at her for several seconds. Finally, seemingly coming to a decision, he turned away from her.
Tatyana looked relieved, but then Ocelot jerked his hand up, bringing the crossbow with it, and aimed the arrow directly at her throat.
Tatyana whimpered slightly, the point of the arrow mere millimetres from her neck, but Ocelot did not fire.
“Nice boots,” he told her, indicating her feet with his free hand. For that was something else he had just noticed – her boots were a dark green colour, different to her usual silvery-grey ones.
He stood for a moment, studying a small speck of dirt on the toe of her right shoe. Relinquishing the crossbow, he smiled serenely and surveyed her with an icy expression. “Make sure you polish them up properly.”
He gave her his signature hand- gesture and walked away, leaving Tatyana looking shady and uncertain.


That evening, Ocelot sat in the East wing and thought over his suspicions about Tatyana, trying to work out if he had enough evidence to convince Volgin that she was not the trustworthy woman she appeared to be.
So far, Tatyana had disappeared twice, during which time no one seemed to know where she had been or what she was doing. He had seen a female spy at the factory the day before when he and the Ocelot unit had returned there to capture Snake, and he had noticed that the woman wore the same perfume as Tatyana, and the same dark green boots. Not only that, but the boots Tatyana had been wearing when he had interrogated her that afternoon had had dirt on the toe. What could she possibly have been doing to get her precious boots so filthy?
And then there was that smell that he couldn’t identify. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but he recognised that smell from somewhere…
But still, Ocelot knew that Volgin would never hear a word against Tatyana with that information. He wished that The Boss were speaking to him, so that he could voice his opinion to her and find out what she thought about it.
It was extremely frustrating not knowing what Tatyana was up to, even while he sat there in the East wing. Ocelot was on the verge of going to find her when The Boss rushed past, looking completely distraught.
Concerned, Ocelot got to his feet and followed her.
“Boss, what’s going on?” he said, hoping that she would be able to bear talking to him for just one minute.
“The Fury,” The Boss said quickly, without slowing down. “He’s dead. And Snake… Snake is inside this fortress.”
“But that’s a good thing, right?” Ocelot said. “He made it, he beat the Cobras, he’s here to rescue Sokolov…”
But The Boss only shook her head, refusing to say any more. She seemed to be in too much of a hurry to protest against his presence – she allowed him to follow her all the way up the stairs, through the main wing and into the west wing corridor, towards the room where Volgin had been keeping Sokolov.
As they approached the double doors at the end, they heard two gunshots from inside Sokolov’s room. Both of them gasped.
“Wait here,” said The Boss, without looking at Ocelot.
Ocelot thought it best to do as she said. Stopping in the corridor just outside Sokolov’s room, he watched The Boss move ahead of him and enter the room. Just beyond her, Ocelot saw Sokolov lying on the floor with blood pouring from his kneecaps, and also, to his great surprise, Major Raikov pointing a Makarov pistol at Volgin.
Ocelot couldn’t believe what he was seeing – Raikov, he knew, would never turn on Volgin like this. There was something seriously wrong here. This Raikov had to be an impostor of some sort.
The Boss had worked this out, too. The doors slid shut behind her, but there were glass panels embedded into them, so that Ocelot was able to see what was going on.
The impostor Raikov looked up as The Boss entered and quickly raised his pistol, but she was too quick for him – she knocked it out of his hands, and it clattered to the floor next to Volgin.
She threw the impostor to the ground, but he recovered quickly and kicked out at her. She moved aside to avoid it. He got to his feet and aimed another kick at her, but again, she dodged it and grabbed him. He slipped out of her grasp and tried to turn it back on her, but she punched him hard in the face and he immediately backed off.
They faced each other, the impostor apparently hesitant to come closer. At last, he built up enough courage to lash out at her again, but she grabbed him and kicked him in the back of the leg, gripping his right arm with one hand and his face with the other.
“What is this fairy disguise?” she said. “It’s gonna rub off on you. And then you’ll lose sight of who you really are!”
She grabbed at his neckline and ripped the skin upwards to reveal that it wasn’t skin at all – it was a very realistic mask, the spitting image of Major Raikov. And underneath the mask, as Ocelot had guessed as soon as The Boss had entered the room, was Snake.
Volgin got to his feet and picked up the Makarov. Smiling cruelly, he pointed it at Snake.
“Stay out of this!” The Boss said angrily. She let go of Snake and knocked Volgin to the ground.
On the floor, Sokolov passed out from loss of blood. Volgin got to his feet, looking annoyed as he dusted himself off.
“I see why they call you The Boss,” he said irritably. “What was that, some kind of judo?”
“No,” said The Boss, looking equally irritated. “It’s called CQC, a basic form of Close-Quarters Combat.”
She looked down at Snake. “He and I developed it together.”
“Splendid!” Volgin said sarcastically, moving towards Snake. “I’ll take it from here…”
Ocelot felt something heavy drop into his stomach. What was Volgin going to do now?
The Boss was obviously wondering the same thing. “Are you going to kill him?”
“Of course,” Volgin said, pulling Snake to his feet. “But first…”
He curled his hand into a fist, casting Snake a bloodthirsty glare. “I will make him pay for hurting Ivan!”
He punched Snake hard in the jaw. Snake cried out in pain, spitting blood. But Volgin didn’t stop there. He proceeded in giving Snake the thrashing of his life. Snake appeared to be far too weak to fight back.
The Boss glanced at the two of them, and then stepped back into the hall, looking thoroughly miserable.
Ocelot moved towards her, concerned. But The Boss simply shook her head and pushed past him, heading back along the passageway.
Ocelot lowered his eyes, but chose not to follow her. He looked back through the door’s glass panels, watching Volgin’s abuse of Snake.
He couldn’t believe he had been so insensitive. This mission was costing him something that he had thought was very important – getting his revenge on Snake. But he had completely forgotten that it was costing The Boss much, much more. By the time this mission was over, she would have lost not only her life, but her reputation as well, for Ocelot knew that the CIA would never let the public know that The Boss had never really defected, that she had been faithful to America all along. It was a burden that she would have to carry, no matter what. She had no choice in the matter. But Ocelot did. It wasn’t fair.
Glancing up, Ocelot saw Volgin winding up his fist. Snake was in a bad way. Blood was running down his face, and he was struggling to stay on his feet. Ocelot could hardly bear to watch.
Volgin turned and punched Snake in the face as hard as he could. Snake collapsed to the floor, into a puddle of his own blood. He raised his head, gasping for breath, and at last he slumped to the floor, unconscious.





Chapter Eight


Ocelot closed his eyes for several seconds, then opened them again. He stepped forwards into Sokolov’s room.
“Ah, Ocelot,” Volgin grinned at him. “Glad you’re here. As you can see, we’ve captured Snake. Although it really was The Boss who brought him down in the end… I owe her a great debt.”
Ocelot muttered something under his breath, but Volgin didn’t notice.
“Grab Sokolov,” Volgin told him. “To the torture room, now.”
Obediently, Ocelot picked up Sokolov and heaved him over his shoulders, straining slightly under his weight. Volgin grabbed Snake and lifted him up as though he were no heavier than a paperweight, and together they carried them out of the building, across to the prison and into the torture room there.
The walls of the torture room were mustard-yellow and covered in blood. There was no furniture, and a fluorescent light shone from overhead, several insects buzzing around it.
Ocelot set Sokolov down on the floor as gently as he could, then watched to see what Volgin would do with Snake.
Volgin bound Snake’s hands together with rope and tied them to the pipes above his head. He grabbed Sn