[identity profile] nagaya-zmeika.livejournal.com
Snake had been thinking. Not much else to do, when you were the lone American on a Russian base with a murderer on the loose, and every time you showed your face you could hear the tension level ratchet up one more click. He was the obvious choice for scapegoat, but after meeting the investigators from Moscow, Snake didn't think that was what they wanted. Neither of them had approached him since the interview, aside from the time the quiet pale guy asked him if he'd seen any crickets around. As far as he could tell, he'd been dismissed as a suspect. Maybe The Boss had something to do with it, before she left, without ever telling him what she was doing there.

What he was doing there.

If the Shagohod was the main objective, Snake had it covered. It was the most blatantly destructive thing on the base, after Colonel Volgin, and all the information commonly bandied around about him was, while interesting in its own way, probably not of high strategic importance. Snake had been lucky no one spared attention to wonder how he knew about the tank. No use pushing his luck by snooping around it. Besides, at this point, the only way he was going to learn more was by taking a socket wrench to the thing. It wouldn't do much for his cover.

Whatever that was.

Snake kept out of sight and wondered if he was the only one around here who was exactly what he seemed.

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The Groznyj Grad Living Novel

December 2010

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