Dominoe: Rock Solid

Prologue by Trent Wolf

South American countryside outside of Medellin, Columbia.

In the expansive backyard of his hillside thirty-room mansion overlooking a plush valley, Arturo Cervantes relaxed in a large wicker chair wearing a soft white terry cloth robe. He was quietly reading the morning newspaper and eating breakfast at a table next to his huge swimming pool. A woman wearing sunglasses and dressed in retro sixties style clothes exited the rear of the house and walked up to him. She carried a small gun with a silencer casually at her side.

Cervantes looked up at her calmly and smiled. “Good morning. I am having crepes. Would you care to join me?”

Dominoe took a seat and smiled back at him. “Thank you. I’ll just have some strawberries if you don’t mind.”

“Please help yourself.”

Dominoe picked out a strawberry from a large silver bowl and dipped it in a side dish of pure whipped cream. Then she put it to her mouth to take a sensuous bite.

Cervantes smirked at the obviously provocative way Dominoe puckered her lips, slid out her tongue to flick the cream off the strawberry and then swirl it around to lick all the cream off before she took a gentle bite.

“I think my security is not as good as I thought it was,” Cervantes noted, turning his attention to his own breakfast.

“Obviously,” Dominoe stated with no uncertainty. She had just rendered forty or so armed security men useless without breaking a sweat or wrinkling her chic pantsuit.

“So, who sent you? The CIA or the DEA?”

“Does it really matter, now?”

Cervantes chuckled. “I suppose not.”

“You’re very calm for someone who’s about to die.”

“Actually, I am only surprised this has not happened already, senorita,” Cervantes smiled with a hint of sad resignation in his voice.

Cervantes’ demeanor fascinated Dominoe. Here was one of the most powerful men in Columbia. The top drug lord with family ties to the current corrupt President. Arturo Cervantes was infected with the Savan virus via the gold watch he wore on his left wrist, which he was supposed to have passed on to the president but kept for himself. Under orders from the current US administration and passed along to CATT, Dominoe’s secret operation was twofold. Prevent any possible threat from his reaction to the virus and end the man’s life rather than allow him to escape extradition and imprisonment for the assassination of a DEA official as well as the previous Columbian president along with other incorruptible officials. If he were merely given the virus anti-serum and then turned over to law enforcement authorities in Columbia, who were certainly corrupt themselves, he would surely escape to kill again either with his paid assassins or his involvement with South America’s largest and most powerful drug cartel. Dominoe was curious and asked him “…And how do you feel?”

“Actually, I feel very content. I am at peace,” Cervantes told her. “I have lived a long life. I have had my share of wealth and power. I have just had my morning swim and my favorite breakfast. Now I am looking at a beautiful woman eating strawberries with a mouth that could certainly make a grown man cry. I could not conceive of a better time to go.”

Dominoe had to admire the man’s sense of realization. “Well then, I won’t keep you any further.”

Without even bringing her firearm up to eye level, Dominoe merely turned the barrel in his direction and pulled the trigger. With a puffing thump from the silencer, Cervantes jerked in his seat. The headshot killed him instantly, mercifully. He slumped slightly in his chair as Dominoe was already up and moving around the table to take the watch from his wrist. After she did so, she sat Cervantes upright, keeping his head from lolling to one side. She dabbed the bit of blood seeping from his forehead wound and then very neatly folded his napkin and set it aside, along with straightening his silverware. After she was satisfied that everything was in its proper place, she headed back to the mansion.

Dominoe entered the rear of the posh estate. It was still early and she had some time to kill before the appointed time when Rook and Bishop were going to pick her up in the CATT jet copter. She was still wired after single-handedly taking out the army of security men, so she decided to take the edge off with a hot bath in one of the huge upstairs sumptuous bathrooms. Once she stripped her perfect body of clothes and dipped into the steaming hot bubbles, the sleek CATT agent decided it was the perfect time for a quick masturbation session. She dipped her hand under the water and plunged her fingers between her supple thighs. Just when her fingers began to dance and she began to run through one of her favorite erotic fantasies, the tiny satellite phone in her clutch bag chirped.

Flustered, Dominoe sat up in the tub and grabbed for the phone, aghast at all the soapy water splashed on the tile floor. “Yes?”

“Davis here. Catch you at a bad time?”

“Um, no.”

“How did the meeting go?”

“Very well,” Dominoe told him. “We had a nice breakfast meeting. The client was totally satisfied.”

“Excellent.”

“Any way you can send Rook and Bishop any earlier? I’m all ready to get out of here. The humidity here is doing terrible things to my hair.”

Davis chuckled on the other end of the phone. “Ah, what a shame.”

“It reminds me of Manila.”

“Manila. Yes, the good old days,” Davis said, slightly distracted at the memory of a faraway place. “Anyway, here’s why I’m calling. You’re wish is about to come true. Rook and Bishop should already be there. I need you back here in Florida ASAP.”

“Another Savan mission prepped and ready to go?” Dominoe asked, climbing out of the tub and peeking out the bathroom window, where she spied the CATT jet copter landing silently on the expanse of lawn outside.

“We’ll discuss it when you get here.”

Dominoe didn’t like the sound of Davis’ statement. She had the feeling she was about to go off on something other than a Savan mission. She sighed. “Well, then. See you in a bit.”

Dominoe snapped her phone shut and hurriedly dressed. She didn’t like the idea of Rook coming inside to look for her and wonder what she was doing taking a hot bubble bath in a drug lord’s mansion. She took one look around before rushing out, distressed that she didn’t have time to clean up the water from the floor and put everything back in its proper place.

---

Ft. Lewis Military Prison, Washington.

A solitary figure sat in his cell, staring idly at the walls before him. His once straw-colored hair had turned gray from his years of confinement, but he body was just as fit and strong at age fifty as it had been at age thirty. He leaned back to begin another set of sit-ups when the sound of footsteps approaching caught his ear.

Hmmm. A few minutes earlier than normal. This must be the day.

The man waited patiently as the footsteps slowly approached, drawing ever nearer. He sat perfectly still, staring straight ahead, seemingly oblivious, though his mind was working feverishly over every small detail. He’d been waiting nearly two years for this day. The day when he would once again be free.

The footsteps halted right in front of his door. “Prisoner five-one-nine-six-three, Lieutenant Colonel James Atlas, sentenced to twenty years with hard labor.” The panel inside the door slid open and two faces glances inside. “They say Colonel Atlas was one really bad son of a bitch back in his day. He’s become a model prisoner now. Doesn’t talk much, doesn’t cause trouble, all he does is exercise, eat, sleep, and stare at the wall all day.”

“Are all the prisoners as well behaved as him, sir?” the second soldier asked, betraying his newness on the job. Col. Atlas frowned, slightly, trying to recall where he had heard that voice before.

“Hardly, Lieutenant, hardly,” the first soldier commented dryly. “I would suppose, being a colonel and all, he is used to being under discipline. Atlas has the particular distinction of being the only colonel being held here. I would guess its more shame or regret than anything else that keeps him in line.” The man snickered, amused, as the Colonel turned to face him. “What’s the matter, Colonel Atlas? Did I strike a nerve?”

The soldier suddenly grunted, going wide eyed, as he slowly slid down the steel door onto the floor. The lieutenant held up the small bloody blade of a bayonet, wiping the blood carefully onto the dead soldier’s clothes. “No, sir,” he quipped, grinning down at his dead comrade, “I’m afraid I was the one that struck a nerve. And an artery or two as well, it appears.” Moments later, the door swung open, and the lieutenant stepped inside, dragging the corpse with him.

“Nicely done, Jameson,” Col. Atlas nodded in approval, as he slipped out of his prison garb. “I take it everything is in place?”

“Yes sir, Colonel,” Lt. Jameson answered, tossing the packed spare uniform over to his superior. “The satellite tracking module is here, as scheduled. Our guys managed to get assigned to the key stations, and we’ve even managed to secure a Harrier AV-88 for your escape. Colonel, the day you’ve prepared us for has finally arrived.”

“Indeed,” Colonel Atlas said, straightening his uniform. He now appeared to be any one of the normal MP’s that worked on the base. James Atlas paused for a moment, once again tasting the sweetness of freedom. “Very well. Let’s go. The next cell check won’t be for half an hour, so we have time, but not much. I trust you know what you’re supposed to do Lieutenant?”

Jameson nodded. “Of course, sir. Everything is ready. The package is loaded and waiting for you on the flight deck.”

The two men left the cell, making their way through the base as if nothing was out of the ordinary. Colonel Atlas marveled slightly at the ease with which his grand escape was occurring. Ever since the Shadow Moses incident had occurred, he had known his days of command were numbered, and he’d planned accordingly.

The world’s become too complacent, too settled in its ways for far too long, Atlas mused as he walked to the hangar. It’s time to shake things up again. The government will pay for using me as a scapegoat to cover their own dark deeds, and it’s only fitting that I use the very weapon they used to put me away as the tool for their downfall!

C.A.T.T. HQ, Orlando FL.

“Ah, good. Have a seat, Dominoe,” the section chief said, gesturing to the seat across from his own. “I’m afraid the Savan virus case will have to be put on hold for the moment, we’ve got a much more urgent crisis facing us.” He pushed a sealed manila folder across the table. “Tell me, Dominoe, have you ever heard the term… ‘Metal Gear’?”

The beautiful tawny haired agent glanced at the folder in her hand before answering.

“Just as much as every else, I suspect. It’s supposedly a weapon of mass destruction, a walking nuclear-equipped battle tank, capable of launching multiple warheads from conceivably any point on the globe. A few years ago, specs for a particular model, supposedly developed by the army, were distributed anonymously via the Internet, making Metal Gear public knowledge and accessible to anyone that cared to create it.” She brushed a lock of hair away from her face before continuing. “However, it turned out to be a hoax. The specs distributed didn’t work, or had too many missing components and design flaws. Gradually, the whole incident just faded into obscurity.”

“Not any longer,” the chief replied, pointing at the folder. “I just got the official word myself a few hours ago. The file was sealed by the President himself, and besides you and I, only three other people in this administration even know it exists.”

Curious, Dominoe broke the seal. The papers contained inside gave a very detailed account of a terrorist attack at a research base in Northern Alaska roughly two years ago. The data showed that several renegade members of a now defunct black-ops, special mission force known as FOXHOUND, seized control of the weapons R&D lab, planning to use the newly constructed Metal Gear REX for their purposes. Their efforts were foiled thanks to the interference of a single soldier, a specialist known only as ‘Solid Snake’, also a former member of FOXHOUND. During a grueling battle, the resilient soldier managed to destroy REX single-handedly, armed only with a small portable missile launcher.

Dominoe frowned. “Solid Snake? FOXHOUND? Metal Gear? Sir, this all sounds like something out of a video game! How on earth could something like this go on without our organization knowing about it?”

Chief Davis frowned, and his cheeks showed a bit of color. “Yes, well, CATT is a secret organization, whose existence is known only to the very top levels of the government.

Apparently FOXHOUND was another such organization, unknown to anyone except the President, the Secretary of Defense, and the Director of National Security. That being the case, they were able to suppress the truth about what really happened at Shadow Moses.” He sighed softly. “A damned case of the government’s right hand not knowing what its left hand was doing. But… that’s neither here nor there. FOXHOUND was disbanded after Shadow Moses, and the data on Metal Gear REX that was distributed on the Internet turned out to be inaccurate, or more likely, incomplete. The crisis was thought to be over, so the President ordered the file sealed, and eventually, everyone forgot about it. Until now, that is.”

Dominoe flipped through the file folder in front of her. “Three days ago, Lt. Col. James Atlas killed several MPs and escaped from Fort Lewis Military Prison. It says Atlas was the former commander of FOXHOUND just before Shadow Moses, and was arrested right before the coup took place.”

Davis nodded. “His escape was perfectly timed. The base had just received a new satellite relay control device for testing. Colonel Atlas took it with him when he made good his escape. I’d be willing to bet he was waiting for its arrival before making the attempt. That is what makes this mission so vital, Dominoe.”

“I don’t understand, Chief.”

The section chief sighed and handed Dominoe as second folder. “Remember what I said about the government’s right hand not knowing what it’s left was doing? Well, apparently, the other branches of the military have been working on their own version of Metal Gear, secretly, in the past two years following Shadow Moses. The Army, Navy, and Marines are all working on their own Metal Gears based loosely on the specs obtained during that incident. Metal Gear REX was designed to be invincible, the ultimate weapon, but it had one minor flaw. The cockpit and internal systems were all self-contained, so to operate it, a pilot depended on the data coming from the sensor array to see. The component Col. Atlas stole was a new liquid cell microwave communication device.”

Dominoe’s expression grew grim. “Liquid cell, hmm? I see… that would make it virtually impervious to jamming by electromagnetic interference.”

“Exactly,” Davis continued. “Imagine Metal Gear equipped with such a communications device. With its armament, and its ability to transverse nearly any type of landscape, it would be unbeatable. By linking to any number of satellites, it could fire nuclear warheads from any spot on earth, with deadly accuracy. We must retrieve that sensory array with all costs! The security and welfare of the entire world depends on it!”

Bender’s Roadhouse Bar & Grill, Manhattan New York

“I’ll have a Long Island Ice Tea,” a tall spindle-legged man said, glancing warily around bar. A heavy metal band was performing on stage, necessitating the need to shout just to be heard. Despite being dressed in a black t-shirt and a pair of ripped blue jeans, the man seemed woefully out of place. Taking the offered drink, he gratefully made his way across the crowded room, to a corner booth, where a lone man, dressed in a black leather jacket and a bandana, sat drinking a whiskey tonic. He sighed deeply. “Next time, I get to pick the rendezvous point,” he mumbled.

The man sized up the newcomer with amusement, and drained the rest of his drink before replying. “Nice costume, Otacon,” he said dryly. “Is it Halloween already?”

“Ha ha,” Dr. Emmerich replied, sliding in across from his partner. “You’re a funny man, Snake. If you ever decide to quit black ops, you could make a living doing stand-up.” He took out a large manila envelope from inside his shirt and passed it to his partner. “I intercepted this from Fort Lewis a few hours ago, Snake. Looks pretty bad.”

All business now, the man code named Solid Snake examined the envelope’s contents. “Hmm. Colonel James Atlas, former second-in-command to our old friend General Trautman. A pity Atlas was locked up behind bars instead of biting a bullet like

Trautman. Would have saved everyone a lot of trouble.”

Otacon leaned forward, whispering, but loud enough to be heard over the heavy metal music. “Three days ago, at exactly 3:35 PM, Pacific Standard Time, Colonel Atlas escaped from Fort Lewis military prison. Several men were killed in the escape, which seems to have been an inside job. Even worse, he took with him the new experimental ZRO-07 Satellite Relay control processor that the military’s been working on. It’s a new type of liquid semi-conducting material, supposedly immune to electromagnetic pulse radiation. Col. Atlas managed to escape with the prototype chip. Last known satellite surveillance placed him somewhere off the coast of Australia.”

Snake frowned. “The ZRO-07? That sounds vaguely familiar. Wasn’t that one of ArmsTech’s little pet projects?”

Dr. Emmerich sighed. “Yeah. Back then we all had specific projects we were developing for ArmsTech. My department was over the Metal Gear Rex project, but I remember seeing a memo about the ZRO-07. Snake, the only weakness with MG Rex was the sensor array. You were able to destroy Rex by taking out the sensor, then hitting the cockpit once the pilot opened it up to see. With the ZRO-07 linked to Rex’s systems, there would be no way to jam the sensors… no way to knock out the array.”

“Shit,” Snake growled softly under his breath. “That prototype chip would make a nearly indestructible weapon like Rex into an invincible fighting machine! And Atlas was in on the whole Shadow Moses incident! This can’t be a coincidence.”

“So, you’re going after him, Snake?”

The former FOXHOUND operative sighed deeply. “Looks like I have no choice, Otacon. Not that I ever really do. Yeah, I’m going after him. We’d better get back to Philanthropy’s main headquarters and get prepared for this. I’m going to need to be well briefed before I go in. I want to know where Atlas is heading, what I’ll be up against, who he has working for him. And I want to know what the government is doing about this, what organization is handling this, and who they’re sending in after the Colonel.”

Otacon drained his drink, sputtering slightly from the burn of the alcohol. “Whoa! That.

(WHEEZE) That… that was some kind of iced tea…. (COUGH) Whew!”

Snake merely shook his head and got to his feet. “Check in with me in two hours. I’ll see about getting some supplies.” He slipped into the thick crowd of people, and disappeared.

Research Station Omega, Australia Outback.

Colonel James Atlas exited the Harrier, glancing around at the assembled soldiers before him. His XO, Captain Janice Adams, called the men to attention, and saluted him sharply.

“A pleasure to see you again, Colonel,” she said crisply, falling in step beside him as he made his way towards the command bunker. “I think you’ll find everything is in readiness. I see you managed to obtain the component,” she added, gesturing to the package nestled tightly under his arm.

James nodded stiffly. “I have. I think the research boys should find this little do-hickey is just what they need to get the system up and running. How long to from installation, to firing of the first round?”

The Captain paused, thinking. “With a complete systems check and diagnostic to ensure the device actually works, I’d estimate six hours. By then we expect to have confirmation on the launch codes—-“

Colonel Atlas jerked to a halt, turning to face the female captain. “You EXPECT to have the codes by then? Captain, I thought you said that everything was in readiness. We’re going to look mighty foolish making demands of the United Nations if we don’t have the codes to launch the nuclear warheads! Explain yourself.”

Captain Andrews took it all in stride. “We’ve obtained the codes already, Colonel. Or rather, our operative had obtained the codes. FOXHOUND member ‘Midnight Owl’ managed to infiltrate the Pentagon and copy the launch codes to disc. We’re only awaiting his arrival. Last contact was just outside Alice Springs. He should be here in little more than two hours.”

“Midnight, eh?” Atlas mused. “Well, you FOXHOUND members were always the very best at your chosen profession. Very well. We’ll proceed as scheduled. I’m going to give the camp a once-over before bedding down. Have someone alert me as soon as the final preparations have been taken care of.” He turned towards the command bunker, and then paused.

“Something wrong, sir?” Captain Andrews asked.

James glanced around. “No one’s around at the moment, Janice,” he said huskily. “It’s been two years. I think we can drop some of that formality now.”

The redhead smiled, and ran to his position, wrapping her arms around him. “Gladly, sir.

I was afraid… well, I was hoping you hadn’t forgotten about me, being locked up in that hole for so long.”

Colonel Atlas chuckled, crushing the female Marine tightly against himself. “Are you serious? You were practically all I thought about while I was locked up. You… and this project.” He sighed softly, releasing her. “Speaking of which, how about the men? I counted several hundred troops on parade for my arrival. I trust you, and I trust out FOXHOUND team. The rest of these people… how well can we trust them to follow orders?”

“Implicitly, Colonel,” Janice replied. “Doc and I made certain of that. The combination of her special chemicals, her knowledge of psychology, and my own talents with hypnosis made an unbeatable combination. All of the soldier here have been completely brainwashed into blind loyalty.” Her eyes narrowed, and her expression grew hard. “This time, my love, no one will betray us from within.”

James kissed his lover deeply. “If you say so, then I’m satisfied. Come on, let us return to the bunker. We have a little catching up to do.”

---

Dominoe knelt down low behind the sparse desert shrubbery. Her breath was short, but calm and rhythmic, and though her black stealth suit was damp with perspiration, it was clean and spotless despite the dust. The CATT chopper had dropped her off a few miles northwest of Alice Springs, as close to the campsite as they dared approach. She’d had to run the remaining distance on foot. Luckily, dusk had fallen, saving her at least from the stifling Australian sun. Now she sat just outside the perimeter gate of the compound, a little winded, but no worse the wear.

Taking a small pair of wire cutters from the hidden pocket of her suit, she began cutting a doorway. Moments later she was through, placing a metal bonding agent against the severed links, sealing up the breech. It would harden and dry long before the sentry making the rounds passed back along this position. Satisfied, Dominoe crept along the fence, moving behind a large rock. She lightly tapped the small communicator contained in her necklace.

“This is Dominoe,” she whispered softly. “I’m inside the perimeter. What’s the latest word from Colonel Atlas?”

Rook’s voice came through the receiver. “Looks serious, Dom,” he replied gravely. “He sent a call via satellite to the White House just under two hours ago. He’s threatening to launch ten warheads at ten major cities unless we pay him with ten billion dollars.”

The sexy agent whistled appreciatively. “Quite a chunk of cash. Can he do what he claims?”

“It appears so. The Pentagon was hit twelve hours ago by a man we now believe to be a member of FOXHOUND, a master of disguise known only as ‘Midnight Owl’. He managed to escape with a copy of all the US’s nuclear launch codes. Our people lost track of him somewhere in Indonesia. It’s a sure bet he’s making a beeline to that camp in Australia.” Rook sighed. “Midnight Owl. Nitro Hyena. Gypsy Moth. Doc Tarantula. And their commander, Colonel James Atlas. FOXHOUND operatives are some of the best-trained soldiers in the entire world, Dom, on par with CATT. Don’t take these guys too lightly.”

“Believe me, I won’t,” Dominoe commented dryly. A flash of light caught her attention. “Hold on a sec. Looks like someone’s arriving.” Several yards away, a transport truck pulled up to the main gate. Removing a small pair of stylish sunglasses from another hidden pocket, Dominoe placed them on, and adjusted the small knob inside the right handle. The sights telescoped slightly, giving Dominoe a closer view of the truck, and its passengers. Another click, activating the night vision, and Dominoe got a clear and unobstructed view of the driver. She smiled slightly; why did all the psychotic killers and evil terrorists have to look so damn hot?

“What have you got, Dom?” Rook asked, anxiety coming in over the transmission.

Dominoe chewed her lip. “The visitor was definitely expected,” she whispered, watching the activity at the front gate. “An important one, by the looks of it. I haven’t seen men scramble like that in quite a while,” she said with amusement. Then, a glint of metal caught her eye, and her expression grew grim. “Hold it, Rook. Trouble. I think I can say without doubt that our visitor is FOXHOUND agent, Midnight Owl.”

“How? None of our people have ever gotten close enough to see his real face? How do you know it’s him?”

“Because,” she said tersely, “he’s got the disc with him. He just handed over the nuclear launch codes to the enemy.”

“Shit!” Rook growled. “Okay, Dominoe, let’s go over it one more time. Atlas had given the government three hours to transfer the money to his Swiss bank account before he fires. That means you have three hours to take him out. You’ve got three mission objectives: one, stop the launch at all costs; two, take down Colonel James Atlas and his renegades; and three, destroy his ultimate weapon, Metal Gear Rex.”

“Roger that, Rook,” Dominoe said, preparing to make her way inside. “I’ll contact you later when I have something. Over and out.” Three hours to do all this? she thought to herself. Sure. No problem. What should I do with the remaining two hours and fifty-five minutes?

“Freeze!”

A harsh voice behind her brought Dominoe to a halt. Her senses sharpened as she took in the whole picture. A sentry, approximately two feet behind her, holding what felt like a standard five-five-sixer against the small of her back. A fairly heavy piece of hardware, easily held and handled with two hands, but rather unwieldy to aim and fire one handed. She slowly straightened up, and raised her hands in the air.

“You’re early,” she said softly, planning her next move carefully. “By your route, you shouldn’t have passed this spot for another two minutes.”

“Shut up,” the man said, grabbing for the radio at his belt. Dominoe struck like lightning, dropping her head and chest down, kicking upwards as she went, catching the guard smartly underneath his chin. The gun and radio clattered to the ground as the guard, stunned from the blow, stumbled backwards. Dom spun around, swinging a fist, catching the man in his exposed windpipe, crushing it, sending the soldier down to his knees, gasping. Dom finished him with a final sharp crack against the temple, and the man dropped like a stone to the ground.

The entire procedure had taken less than five seconds. Dominoe grabbed the man by his boots and dragged him behind the stone, out of sight. Then, spying the man’s boots, she quickly untied them, and retied them perfectly, before making her way across the compound.

Several brick and mortar structures littered the area. Dominoe crept around carefully, watchful for more sentries. It was incredible that such a structure could have been constructed in secret, and that a base as large as this one could have remained hidden from the Australian government, and the US spy satellites. Exploring the buildings closely, Dominoe now saw just how such a thing was possible. The building materials had been constructed of the same kind of earth and stones that littered the entire Outback. From space, they no doubt appeared as part of the landscape. Furthermore, the roof of each building was covered with a special heat reflective metal alloy, which helped block the desert sun, but also blinded the satellites’ heat detecting sensors.

Impressive, Dominoe mused as she made her way to the largest of the structures. An operation like this must have taken a lot of forethought and planning. If the file on Shadow Moses was accurate, the plans for this base must have been in the works even before the revolt in Alaska.

Her musings were cut short as she was forced to hide. A group of seven soldiers were heading across her path. Ducking behind the side of a building, she was just close enough to overhear their conversation.

“…a very good job, Midnight,” Colonel Atlas was saying to the tall dark haired man. “Those codes will make it possible to carry out our threat, should the government fail to give in to my demands. Excellent work, soldier.”

“Thank you, sir,” Midnight Owl replied, bowing slightly. “Wasn’t easy slipping in and out of the Pentagon, but I specialize in the hard jobs. So, you think the government is going to pay up?”

“Not very likely,” a willowy raven-haired woman in a long white lab coat replied. “The

United State never gives in to terrorism, not unless you show them you really mean business… and even then they’ll try and send in the troops to take you out while they stall.” She sighed deeply. “Still, this time, they know exactly what the ‘terrorists’ are capable of, since we’re holding them hostage with their own secret weapon. I think they’ll take us seriously.”

“I hope so, Doc,” Captain Adams replied. “It would be a shame to have to nuke the US.

After all, our problem is with those damn crooked politicians, and the military hierarchy, not the population at large.”

“I know, Captain,” Atlas commented, shaking his head. “Still, I intend to follow through if they don’t come across with the money. The government tries to come off squeaky clean, covering up its mistakes, shifting the blame when it can’t cover them up, anything to keep the common citizen from knowing what is really going on. Well, let’s see if they can cover up the total destruction of a few major cities!”

Damn, Dominoe cursed softly. The man is insane. He’ll kill millions without any hesitation if I don’t stop him. Damn. Too many of them to fight off right now. I’ll have to bide my time, and look for an opening—-

A squeak sounded, followed by a muffled series of words. A large heavy-set man standing to the left of Colonel Atlas placed his radio to his ear, and frowned. Then cursed loudly. “Colonel Atlas, it looks like we may have a situation here. One of the sentries was late reporting in. A man found him, dumped behind a large rock, unconscious.

We have an intruder on the base.”

The Colonel merely nodded. “Very well. I assumed they’d send in one of their operatives sooner or later. Have the men conduct a thorough search of the area. Hyena, I want you and Midnight Owl to supervise the search personally. Doc, head back and prepare sickbay. We may need your services soon enough. Captain Adams, you’re with me.” He turned to the two low ranked soldiers trailing behind them. He handed one of them a slender silver disc that Dominoe recognized immediately as the nuclear launch codes. “You two, take this to OPS and have the codes loaded. I want to be able to launch the instant the three-hour time limit expires. Okay, people. MOVE!”

Dominoe waited until the terrorists departed before stepping out of the shadows. Time was quickly running out. The deadline was creeping steadily closer, and the entire base was on alert, searching for her. She had to act fast.

Dropping stealth for speed, the sexy super agent sprinted after the two soldiers carrying the stolen disc. Ten yards from intercepting them, one of them heard her and turned. “Intruder!” he yelled, firing his automatic rifle at the advancing figure. Dominoe saw it coming, had expected it from the second he began turning towards her, and checked her approach. Still moving forward, she dropped into a roll, ducking down just under the deadly shower of bullets.

Five more feet. Four. Two. The second soldier, alerted to the danger, had brought his weapon to bear on the CATT agent as well, adjusting for her new position. Luck was with Dominoe, however, as the second soldier’s gun jammed, refusing to fire. The first soldier, still holding the disc in one hand, grunted, dropped the barrel of his weapon slightly, and prepared to fire again. But too late. Dominoe had closed the distance, and lashing out with a shapely muscular leg, brought the two soldiers off their feet. Then went down even as she flipped upwards, back on her feet. Two well-placed kicks to the head sent them both to dreamland.

Dominoe retrieved the disc, and picked up one of the men’s guns. There. Armed. Now I just need to get out of here before reinforcements arrive.

“There! He’s over there! Stop him!”

Dominoe sprinted away, as a score of guns began firing on her position. Taking refuge behind a barrel, she fired back, causing the soldiers to scatter for cover. She glanced left and right, seeking an avenue for escape. Soldiers were heading towards her position from every direction; within minutes she’d be completely surrounded. Or, almost. Glancing up again, she noticed that no men were coming in from the route behind and to the left.

Staying low to the ground, Dominoe beat a hasty retreat along the open path, firing sporadic rounds to keep her pursuers away.

It’s probably a trap, she thought grimly, making her way towards the far off fence, and freedom on the other side of it. Why else leave me a clear path to run to? It’s definitely a trap. Still, if I can keep them off me just a bit longer, just long enough to destroy this damn disc, then they won’t be able to launch the warheads.

A loud deafening explosion just behind her knocked Dominoe off her feet. Glancing back, she saw the smoking remains of a soldier that had been chasing her. Land mines! Wide-eyed, Dominoe slipped on sunglasses and switched to the thermal infrared sensor. With dread she saw that she was surrounded on all sides by landmines. Indeed, one lay inches away from her left hand.

“Hold it!” Colonel Atlas yelled out, as roughly fifty soldiers took aim on Dominoe’s position. “You’re not going anywhere, friend. You have something that belongs to me, and I want it back.”

Dominoe held up the disc for all to see. “I don’t think so, Colonel. I think I’m going to make my way through this little minefield and over the fence, and you and your men are going to watch. If you shoot, I’ll no doubt fall over onto a mine and blow myself, AND your precious disc into a million pieces. And I don’t think we want that.”

“She’s right, men,” Colonel Atlas grimaced. “Hold your fire… for the moment.” He turned his attention back to Dominoe. “So, they sent in a woman this time. A very beautiful and very skilled woman. You’re not FOXHOUND… not CIA, not MIA… you must be CATT. Tell me, my dear, would your name happen to be… Dominoe?”

Dominoe’s eyes narrowed. “I see you’re rather well informed for someone that’s been behind bars for the past three years, Colonel.”

“Yes, my dear,” Colonel Atlas said, unbuttoning the center button of his uniform. “VERY well informed. I was in military intelligence for a long time, and you keep all the same contacts, even when you’re not longer practicing. You’ve put away a lot of my former enemies… and few of my former friends as well.” He turned his hat slightly off center, and lifted the collar of his shirt. “Tell me, my dear, are you feeling okay? You look a little green around the gills.”

Indeed, Dominoe was feeling slightly ill. Colonel Atlas knew just what buttons to push with her, and he was pushing them all. Her normal calm reserve was nearly shattered, and sweat was beginning to trickle down the length of her brow. Her obsessive-compulsive nature pricked and pinched her nerves with the need to scream, to run over and fix the disorder Colonel Atlas was causing in his uniform.

NO! DAMN IT! Dominoe told herself. Just block it out. Just ignore it. Have to stay focused. I can’t let him distract me this way!

“So, you have nothing to say?” Colonel Atlas chided, taking in the agent’s obvious distress. “Alright then. I guess it won’t bother you if I do… this…” he said, bending down. He carefully tugged the end of his bootlaces, until the bow was nearly undone, watching

Dominoe’s face the entire time. Her fists were clenched tight, and her entire body, sleek and supple, was taut with barely contained tension.

A small surge of pain made Dominoe gasp. Glancing down, she spied a small dart sticking out of her left thigh. Several feet away, she saw the young dark haired woman in the white lab coat holding a high-powered tranquilizer rifle. Suddenly, Dominoe felt strange, somewhat giddy, not dizzy or tired as usual when being drugged. Her leg began to tingle slightly, a sensation which quickly spread throughout her body. Whatever was happening to her, it was happening fast. She raised her hand, preparing to toss the disc.

“Hold it right there, Dominoe,” Atlas yelled, stepping forward. “It’s over now. Just relax and calm yourself. The dart you were just shot with was filled with a quick acting toxin, a special little formula invented by Doc Tarantula. By now, all the major muscles in your body are numb, leaving you effectively paralyzed. In fact, I doubt you’re even capable of moving your wrist enough to drop that CD, let alone throw it anywhere.” With horror, the

CATT agent found the Colonel to be right; except for her eyes, she couldn’t move a muscle. “Okay men, move in,” Atlas ordered. “But be careful with her. I don’t want her hurt just yet. She might come in useful in helping with the negotiations.”

Dominoe struggled as much as her paralyzed body could manage, but to no avail. The men lifted her prone body from the minefield, retrieving the disc from her stiff lifeless fingers. She suffered further humiliation as the soldiers purposely pawed over her, taking great delight in feeling up the captured spy. One man brought the disc to Colonel Atlas, who nodded in satisfaction.

“Well, my dear, you managed to inconvenience us a bit, but in the end, it was all for nothing,” Captain Adams sneered. “Frankly, I would have expected more from an agent of CATT. I guess your reputation was just smoke, agent Dominoe. Have her taken to the medical lab for… interrogation.”

Eyes red with rage, Dominoe merely glared at the XO as she was hauled away. She felt the sting of humiliation, knowing she had bested. Somehow, some way, she had to get free. She had to escape and prevent the launch from taking place. She only hoped that the serum keeping her paralyzed would wear off before the remaining two hours expired.

---

Watching the soldiers carry off the captured agent, Midnight Owl turned to his commander. “Sir, I don’t think this is a good idea,” he stated flatly. “That woman is an agent of CATT. They are notorious for getting the job done against all odds. They are as well trained as we are… probably even more so, considering that their agency was built from FOXHOUND’s training methods. Letting Doc and the Captain ‘play’ with her could be dangerous.” He gestured to the fence, less than twelve feet away. “She came close to escaping with the launch codes once already. It was sheer luck that we caught her when we did.”

Atlas frowned. “That’s true enough. What do you suggest we do? Kill her outright?”

Owl shook his head. “No. You’re right that she will be more useful to us alive than dead.

But I think maybe I should go over to the med lab as well… kinda keep a discreet eye on things.” He glanced sidelong at the Colonel and crossed his arms. “You know better than anyone just how carried away Doc and the Captain can get when they’re… ahem… breaking in’ new personnel.”

Atlas growled softly, grabbing the soldier by his neck, lifting the tall stocky man several feet off the ground. “Mind your tongue, Owl,” he said with clenched teeth. “The Captain and I have an understanding. She’s my most valued soldier, and I trust her a hundred times more than I trust you. If she chooses to have a little fun with this Dominoe, then so be it! It’s no concern of yours!” He released the man, who fell to his knees, gasping for breath. The Colonel turned to walk back to the main bunker. “Feel free to keep an eye on our prisoner,” he added, “if it will put your mind at ease. Just make sure you don’t disrupt the Captain’s interrogation.”

Midnight Owl nodded idly, rubbing his throat. Things were getting seriously out of hand.

Turning towards the infirmary, he made up his mind. He would keep an eye on things. But he planned to do more than just watch. Much more.

Research Base Omega, Bunker 5: Infirmary

Dominoe groaned softly, opening her eyes. Her limbs were loose and disjointed, but the feeling was slowly returning. She’d felt the serum weakening when they’d brought her into the building. Taking advantage of a momentary distraction, she’d fought against the guards, snapping the neck of one, disabling the second with a knee to the groin. Before she could get far, however, a third soldier had grabbed her from behind, slamming the butt of his gun into the back of her head.

Checking her surroundings, she found herself bound to a large raised bed, her hands and feet trapped by steel manacles. She was nude, her black bodysuit lying discarded on the floor, ripped to tatters. She’d been trained to suppress her fear in bad situations; the combination of her CATT training and her genetic alterations had conditioned her to transmute her fear into arousal, such that the worse the situation she found herself in, the wetter she became. Her thighs were already slick with worry at her current situation, and cool air had little to do with the hardness of her nipples.

“Nice to see you’ve come around,” a female voice remarked. The dark haired woman referred to as ‘Doc’ emerged from a small door on Dominoe’s right, holding something behind her back. “Captain Adams will be here momentarily to help me with your… interrogation, but I wanted the chance to spend some private time alone with you.” The willowy woman smiled, licking her lips. “I must say that I’ve never met a more lovely woman. You are absolutely perfect.” She traced a fingertip gently along the captured agent’s bare left thigh, raising goose bumps. “But then again,” the doctor added, smirking, “I suppose you were created to be that way.”

She took out a small folder from behind her back, holding it up to Dominoe’s face. “As soon as we identified you, I had my lab boys pull up your official file. Very impressive. A super soldier, created from the genetic essence of two of the greatest secret agents that ever lived, and improved with genetic engineering.” She ran another long slender digit along Dominoe’s flesh, this time slightly higher, grazing the lovely woman’s hip ever so slightly. “Really fascinating. FOXHOUND is composed of soldiers, schooled in various forms of espionage training, and enhanced slightly with gene therapy. I guess you could say we’re both alike in a lot of ways.”

“I’m nothing like you,” Dominoe replied coldly. “What you and your people are planning to do is barbaric. I admit our government has its problems, but nuking ten cities isn’t the way to go about changing it.”

Doc laughed softly. “Just the kind of self-righteous drivel I’d expect coming from a government lapdog. I actually thought the way you did, once. Back before Shadow Moses. If that incident taught me anything, it taught me that you could kill hundreds, thousands, even millions of people, and then shift the blame, get away with murder, if you have the resources to make it happen. The Secretary of Defense was in charge of the entire operation, playing both sides of the board against each other, like chess pieces, and in the end, what happened? He was asked to step down, and the entire incident was covered up.”

“So, you choose to inform the masses by blowing them to bits?” Dominoe countered. “Where’s the logic in that? We have a way of getting undesirables out of office without killing people. It’s called voting. You may have heard of it.”

Doc’s eyes narrowed. “A beautiful body,” she replied, running her fingers lightly over the bound woman’s waist, tickling her panty line slightly. “Too bad it comes with a viper’s tongue. But no matter,” she said, taking a large hypodermic needle from her coat pocket.

“I think we can dull that sharp little tongue of yours a bit. Soon, you’ll change your view of what we’re doing here. In fact,” she said, as Dominoe tensed up, “I’m quite certain you’ll soon be happy to help us in any way you can.”

The needle came closer. Dominoe closed her eyes, summoning all her strength and willpower, preparing to fight the effects of whatever mind doping serum she was about to be injected with. Strangely, the pinprick never came. A sound startled her into opening her eyes. The room was dark, nearly pitch black, but she could sense someone… no, TWO someone’s, moving around in the darkness. A sharp crack like breaking glass sounded a few minutes later, followed by a harsh, dull-sounding thwack, the sound of someone being punched. Seconds later a loud thud of someone hitting the ground.

Not knowing what was going on, but grateful for the unexpected reprieve, Dominoe wriggled her wrists, dropping the subtle examination she’d been performing all along. Grunting, she succeeded in slipping one wrist free, and then another, before moving to unlock her ankles. Her eyes quickly adjusted to the darkness, as she made her way carefully towards the door, wary for the second intruder she’d heard struggling with Doc Tarantula. She reached the door unmolested, however, and listening closely for sounds of pursuit or alarm, she exited the lab.

And nearly ran headfirst into a soldier.

“You?!?” Midnight Owl cried in surprise, backing up a step. “You’re free? How in the world…”

Dominoe replied instinctively, taking advantage of his surprise, lashing out with a kick. She moved fast, but the soldier moved even faster, throwing up an arm to block at the last second. The CATT operative and the FOXHOUND soldier fought, a delicately choreographed ballet of martial arts, in a fast flurry of kicks, sweeps, and punches. Finally, Owl managed to get his hands on hers, and drove her back into the wall, pinning her.

“Will you STOP for a second, damn you!” he growled, breathing hard. “I’m not your enemy! I’m trying to help you!”

Dominoe stopped struggling, frowning in suspicion. “Trying to help me?” she said slowly. “Why the sudden generosity? It was you who raised the alarm when I took out those two men and stole the disc containing the launch codes. Why would a member of FOXHOUND help me out?”

The man sighed deeply. “Former member of FOXHOUND, actually. I’m not Midnight Owl. I intercepted him in Indonesia, and took his place. The man’s a master of disguise, so I figured he’d be my best shot at infiltrating this camp without being noticed.” He released her wrists. “Of course, I suppose I could have chosen YOUR method as well… cutting my way in through the fence.”

Dominoe raised an eyebrow. “How did you know that I came in through a hole in the fence?”

“Because I saw you,” the man replied, slipping off his jacket, handing it to the CATT agent. “Here. Must be cold standing there wearing nothing at all… though I personally appreciate the view.” Blushing slightly, Dominoe remembered her state of undress, and took the jacket gratefully. “When I saw you slip inside, I knew what you were after. I couldn’t let you steal that disc just yet. I needed Colonel Atlas to download the codes.”

“That’s the last thing I want,” Dominoe exclaimed. “Do you want him to nuke the United States?”

The man shook his head. “No, of course not. That disc doesn’t contain launch codes. It contains a special little virus my friend cooked up. When they try to read that disc, it will crash the entire system. Even without the codes to fire a nuke, Metal Gear Rex is too powerful a weapon to be allowed to exist. I’ve fought it before… believe me, its much easier to try and destroy it’s computer systems with a virus than to try destroying it in a one-on-one fight.”

Dominoe gasped. “You… you faced Metal Gear… Who are you? What is your name?”

The man chuckled dryly. “I’m like you, ‘Dominoe’. I have no name. Besides, we can save the formal introductions for later. We’ve got to get out of here before Captain Adams or Colonel Atlas decide to pay a visit.”

“You’re Solid Snake, aren’t you?”

“I’ve been called that before, yeah. Come on, we gotta get out of here.” He glanced at her again. “You might want to finish dressing first, though.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Captain Adams replied, as she and the sixteen soldiers with her cocked their rifles. Dominoe and Snake glanced at each other, and slowly raised their hands. “So, my premonition was right after all,” the Captain mused. “I was right in asking the Colonel not to load that disc just yet.”

Dominoe frowned. “Premonition? What premonition?”

“She’s a member of FOXHOUND, too,” Snake commented. “She’s Gypsy Moth.

She’s supposedly a gifted precog, gifted with brief but vivid flashes of the future. I was hoping that we could slip in and out too fast for anyone to respond, even if we were discovered, but looks like she saw it coming. Sorry kid.”

Janice Adams, AKA, Gypsy Moth, walked forward and looked the pair of intruders up and down. “Well, well, well. Imagine this. The infamous Dominoe and the legendary Solid Snake, together in the same building. The two best operatives the US has, caught in our little trap.” She glanced from one to the other, finally stopping before Dominoe.

“I’m glad we caught you before you escaped again,” she purred softly. “Alice and I were so looking forward to playing with you for a while. I usually prefer to handle the men, and let her tend to the females…” she said, sliding Snake’s jacket off the CATT agent’s shoulders, “but I have to agree with her this time. Playing with your sexy little body will be a treat.”

“What do you want us to do with him, Captain?” one of the soldiers grunted, gesturing towards Snake.

Gypsy considered. “Take him to the Colonel. They’re old friends. I’m sure the commander can keep our guest occupied while we tend to his female companion.” She laughed with pleasure as her men carried off an angry, struggling Solid Snake. “My, my, what spirit,” she replied. I’m sure the Colonel will get a real workout with him.” She smiled at Dominoe, covered on both sides with machine guns. “In the meantime, let’s attend to you. Men, bring her back to the lab and strap her back down.”

Command Bunker, Research Station Omega.

“You know, Snake,” Colonel Atlas said idly, “I never thought I’d see you again. I’d heard you died in the aftermath of Shadow Moses, that you, that girl, and that technician had all been fried to a crisp when the facility blew. Imagine my surprise when Captain Adams contacts me and tells me that FOXHOUND member Midnight Owl is actually FOXHOUND member Solid Snake!”

He walked over to his prisoner, bound heavily to a raised metal slab by steel manacles.

“They did a good job on your face,” he said, holding up the latex mask that had covered the operative’s face moments ago. “Good quality work,” he commented, tossing the false face to the floor. “You had me completely fooled. Of course, it wasn’t hard to pretend to be someone who is always pretending to be someone else. Still, your plan was foolproof.”

“Apparently not,” Snake mumbled, “by the current circumstances.”

“Ah, well, that wasn’t anything you could have anticipated,” Atlas replied, walking over to a large computer control panel. “Just bad luck, old friend. The cards were against you this time. That’s one reason why I have Captain Adams on my team. Gypsy Moth tends to help stack the deck in our favor.” He turned a few knobs, and the huge generator in the corner hummed to life. “It’s too bad we’re on opposite sides of the battlefield, Snake,” he said with real regret. “I’ve always liked you, admired you. You were the very best member FOXHOUND ever had.”

Snake struggled with his bindings. “Too bad I can’t say the same for you, Colonel,” he retorted. “You were always a greedy, sadistic sonofabitch. The day Roy Campbell took over command of FOXHOUND and had you reassigned was a red-letter day for the outfit. I only wish we’d known back then that you’d weasel your way back up the chain of command to be involved with the Metal Gear project. At least they managed to take you down before you could join your friends on Shadow Moses for the revolt.”

Atlas merely chuckled. “Yes, but look at me now, Snake. Right now, YOU are the one in captivity, and I’m back on top, running the show. So you see, it all evens out in the end.”

He flipped a few more switches, and then walked around in front of Snake. “Now then, Snake. Let’s you and I have a little chat. I want to know who you’re working with, and what the government intends to do if they don’t hear from after your next check in.”

Glancing up at the consoles, and the machinery inhabiting the room, Snake groaned. “And if I choose not to cooperate, you’ll have to play rough? Is that it?”

“Very perceptive, Snake,” the Colonel grinned, holding up a small remote control in his hands. “I believe you’ve met FOXHOUND member Ocelot before, Snake. He’s one of the best in the art of interrogation and torture. I don’t claim to be up to his level, but I learned a lot of his techniques. The device you’re strapped in will send a high voltage charge through your body. It won’t kill you… but it will hurt like hell.”

Oh shit, Snake groaned inwardly. Not again. Damn! I hate shock therapy!

“Here’s how it works,” Atlas continued. “I ask you a question. If you choose not to respond, or I don’t like your answer, then you take a few thousand volts. If you answer correctly, then you get to rest. Simple, huh?” He rubbed the large red button on the remote in his hand. “Now then, tell me who you’re working for…”

---

Dominoe was floating, swimming, cast adrift in a soft warm place. Her mind was fuzzy, befogged with the cocktail of drugs she’d been injected with, but any concern she had felt about her current situation had been reduced to only a mild curiosity. Her body felt hot, as if a wildfire was burning just underneath her flesh. A deep satisfying pleasure suffused her being so completely that she was only vaguely aware of the soft female hands stroking and caressing her, providing her with such overwhelming pleasure, or the enticing taste of sweet juice as her tongue delved again and again into her captor’s nether region.

Doc Tarantula groaned deeply, arching her back, clenching her toes in ecstasy, as she rode the double-sided dildo thrust deep inside their sexy prisoner’s pussy. She’d cum thrice already, and was rapidly approaching a fourth. Her slender naked form was wracked with sweat. It amazed her that the CATT agent had lasted this long, close to an hour, her brain somehow fighting the mind-numbing serums even as her body readily surrendered to the nerve stimulating potions. She stopped fingering Dominoe’s wet hot clit just long enough to pick up a fifth hypodermic needle and inject another dose of it into the tireless woman’s body, before resuming her joyful ministrations.

Gypsy Moth was likewise amazed. Her back arched tightly, and sparks danced before her eyes as she came once more under the gentle tongue-lashing Dominoe was giving her. Droplets of sweat rolled off her hard nipples, teasing them devilishly. Still, she managed to keep her hands glued to Dominoe’s temples, her eyes staring deep into the drugged woman’s own. Normally she didn’t have to employ her own mind-altering powers directly; in most cases, Doc’s serums alone were more that adequate to entrance and reprogram a person into an obedient soldier. That the CATT agent had managed to resist BOTH the serums and her own hypnotic powers for close to an hour was unbelievable.

“Ugh, ugh, ugh,” Doc was gasping loudly, her breasts bouncing from the rhythmic grinding, “She’s… fucking… incredible,” she managed, as Dominoe arched, her orgasmic response pushing Doc over the edge. “Whew!” she said once she had recovered slightly. “She must have been drugged like this in the past… maybe brainwashed… several times… ugh… to build up such a resistance to my drugs…”

“Oh God, Oh God… oooouuuhhhhh!” Gypsy groaned, feeling herself begin up the path to sexual release once more. “Uhhhmmmm… I remember… her file… she’s been trained to resist mind control… after certain incidents in her past…” she huffed, struggling to force air into her lungs through the passionate grunts of pleasure. “She’s a tough… nut… to crack… but I can feel her weakening. She’s almost… there… almost… just need to push her… over the edge…” Gypsy, close to succumbing to the endless pleasure herself, probed a little deeper into Dominoe’s psyche, trying to find a weakness, any weakness.

“Her… toes! Try… sucking… on her toes,” Gypsy managed to gasp.

Doc responded instantly, raising one of the lovely agent’s slender peds, wrapping her lips tightly around the tiny toes. Dominoe let out a loud gasp, and then groaned deeply, as she came again, hard. Sensing victory, Doc began sucking hard, giving ‘head’ to all five of Dominoe’s sexy toes. Images of a previous encounter with Red Scorpion flashed through the sexy CATT agent’s beleaguered mind, of her capture, seduction, and submission to the diabolical redhead. Madame Red had broken through her defenses at last by catering to a previous unknown fetish in Dominoe, for having her feet worshiped.

As before, it was just enough to shatter through Dominoe’s resolve. Her mind shattered under the onslaught, her body vibrating with passion as her orgasm shattered into multiples. She opened her mouth in a soundless scream of pure bliss, arching her back in a steady bow, sending her two ‘tormentors’ into orgasmic overload along with her. The three women froze that way for several moments, locked in an instant of pure and perfect pleasure. Finally, Dominoe relaxed, going limp underneath her captors, sighing softly in contentment.

Gypsy, recovering first, smiled wickedly, staring deep into Dominoe’s glazed eyes. “Very good, my pet,” she whispered softly. “You lasted longer than I could have ever expected. But it’s over now. You are mine now, Dominoe. Mine to do with as I choose…”

Dominoe sighed softly, her lips moving slightly, as she mouthed the words spoken to her. Her pliant mind readily absorbed Gypsy’s insidious commands, weaving them slowly but firmly into place. She knew that she had been confused before. That trying to stop the Colonel, trying to stop her two lovers, had been wrong. Incredibly, enormously wrong! Her true mission had been to serve them, to fight alongside them. To serve and pleasure them. It had always been her job, her role; she had just forgotten.

She felt drained, worn down, completely exhausted, yet hearing her new purpose so excited and aroused her, she felt herself getting wet at the idea of serving her wonderful, and beautiful Mistresses. Her loyalty was first and foremost to Mistress Gypsy Moth, and to Mistress Tarantula. Of course, their loyalty was to Colonel Atlas, so by default, she was also his loyal servant. The idea of serving his pleasure made Dominoe sigh in ecstasy, despite the marathon sex she’d just endured.

“The Colonel will just LOVE you,” Captain Adams said, as she began redressing. “After being locked up in jail for two years, you’ll be a very welcome sight, Dominoe.”

Doc nodded in agreement. “Well, if she’s going to be a member of FOXHOUND, she’ll need a new code name. I don’t really like ‘Dominoe’. We need something that better suits her nature… and her new purpose in life.” She thought for a moment. “How about… ‘Eager Beaver’? It certainly fits.”

Gypsy laughed. “Sounds perfect. Now then, slave. Your name is no longer Dominoe. She no longer exists. From now on, your code name is Eager Beaver.”

The CATT agent blinked, shuddering softly in pleasure. “I am… Eager Beaver,” she said softly.

---

“UUUGGGGGGGHHHHHHHH!!” Snake cried, his body wracked with pain, as the electricity forced its way through his body. His flesh was blistered and scarred around his wrists, and along his waist, where the metal came in contact with his bare skin. His body was arched upwards from the metal slab, an involuntary motion rather than an attempt to reduce his torment. His pain seemed never-ending, infinite. It was hard to remember a time without the constant burning pain wracking his body.

For the first half-hour, Colonel Atlas had gone along with the pretense of interrogating him. He was no doubt well aware that the captive Snake had been telling the truth, but Atlas needed no provocation and no excuse to torture the former FOXHOUND. After thirty minutes of sadistic pleasure, he dropped all pretenses at learning more from his captive, and made it a game of seeing how much voltage the man could take before passing out.

Snake was nearing his limit. His nerves were frayed, overloaded from the extreme voltage he’d been forced to endure. His skin was burning; his hair felt like it was on fire. He was a soldier, a born fighter, but as the minutes tolled on and on, he found it hard to even want to fight. So much easier to simply let go, give up, and expire. To just lie down and die. Death would mean an end to the pain, and end to the torture. So fucking easy…

But then he remembered the woman. The girl. Dominoe. She was in trouble, even worse trouble than he was. She was a good agent, probably the best, but she was in trouble. And the people… so many millions of people that would die unless Colonel Atlas was stopped once and for all. So he screamed and screamed and hung on, enduring the pain while his body slowly burned to ash—-

For a moment, when the pain ended, Snake didn’t notice. His mind and body had grown so used to the sensation that it took several moments before he noticed the gentle cooling air against his skin, the relative quiet in absence of the running generator. Blinking, willing away the stars dancing before his eyes, he glanced slowly around the room. Colonel Atlas was gone. Straining his hearing a bit, he could just make out voices outside the door.

“…Thirty minutes left until the deadline is over,” Atlas muffled voice was saying. “We don’t have the launch codes for the nukes, so we can’t carry through with the threat.”

“We may have a way around that, Colonel,” another voice, male, replied.

“We do have the warheads, after all. We just need a way to override the built-in lockouts to arm the damn things. When your esteemed guest showed up,” he said with a chuckle, causing Snake to grimace, “I got to thinking about Shadow Moses. ArmsTech designed

Rex so that three key cards could activate or deactivate the nukes in the event that the launch codes were lost. It’s impossible to hack a nuclear warhead, to activate it without the code… but I think maybe I CAN hack the backdoor system.”

“You think?” Atlas muttered. “I need to know for sure, Hyena. I make an address to the

President and his cabinet in a little less than half an hour, and I would prefer NOT to look like a fool.”

FUCK! Snake cursed silently. Things can’t get any worse! If these guys can break through the emergency override system, they’ll be able to launch! I’ve got to get out of here, now!

“…coming along to supervise this personally,” Atlas said. “I intend to be absolutely sure this will work before I commit us to it.”

“Very good sir,” Hyena replied. “But… what about your guest? What about Solid Snake?”

“Never mind him,” Atlas said, his voice fading as he walked away. “He’s half dead from our last session. He’s not going anywhere.”

Snake grinned to himself. “I may be half-dead, Colonel,” he said, flexing, shaking the platform as much as he could, inching the entire slab slowly, inch by inch, towards the control panel. “But half dead isn’t dead enough! UGHH!!” He grunted, kicking out with his boot, missing, kicking again, striking the side of the panel, which knocked over the small handgun Snake had been carrying, placed there by the Colonel before the torture. The gun tumbled, then slid down along the control panel, stopping right above the release switch. Grunting, stretching himself to the absolute limit, he kicked the panel one last time, jarring the gun loose. It tumbled down the rest of the way, flipping the release switch.

Snake hauled himself free, rubbing his sore, blistered wrists gingerly. Then he picked up the handgun, checked it, slid a bullet into the chamber, and cocked it.

“Time to go hunting,” he murmured softly, as he gently slid the door open, and slipped outside.

---

Two guards were waiting just outside the doorway. Snake holstered his gun and removed a large bowie knife. Moving silently, he crept up behind the two men, slitting the first man’s throat, and then snapping the neck of the second before he could react. He dragged both bodies into the empty torture room. Hopefully it would be a while before they would be missed. Taking out his gun again, he made his way through the hallways.

Snake stopped in front of a set of stairs. Dominoe’s likely being held back at the infirmary, he brooded silently. After all this time, heaven only knows what they have done to her. But time is running out. Metal Gear should be housed here, in the main bunker, in the basement. Down these stairs. So… do I save the girl first, and then go after Metal Gear… or do I try and take that war machine down and THEN go after Dominoe?

“Damn. To hell with it,” he growled softly, heading for the front entrance. Four armed men turned as he emerged from the door, and shouted. Bullets whizzed by inches from his head. “SHIT!” Snake yelled, ducking down, firing back, and taking two of the men in the chest. One soldier retreated, no doubt intending to set off the alarm, leaving the last soldier. Snake shot twice more, taking down the sentry, emptying his gun clip. Spying the retreating man, he took out his bowie knife and threw, catching the soldier in the back.

“Alert! Alert! Intruder escaping!” a voice yelled from across the bunker to his left. Snake turned in time to catch a soldier retreating back inside the bunker. Moments later, the general alarm rang out. Scavenging the fallen men for guns and ammo, Snake beat a hasty retreat, running back inside the main bunker. His path to the infirmary had been cut off; Dominoe would have to wait.

Snake took the stairs two at a time, trying to make it to the basement entrance before the area was locked down tight. The heavy steel door was descending slowly, but it was more than halfway down already. Snake, his body battered and bruised, weary and worn, dove the last few steps, dropped into a roll, and slid underneath the door just before it closed shut.

“Impressive, Snake,” the man he recognized as Hyena said, clapping his hands. The other two members of FOXHOUND stood behind him, along with a soldier dressed in fatigues. “I can see how you became a living legend,” he continued. “The Colonel is busy chatting with the US government’s representatives via satellite, so you’ll have to settle up with us for the time being.”

Snake raised his gun. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Snake,” Hyena warned, holding up a small device. “The name’s Hyena. NITRO Hyena. I’m FOXHOUND’s resident Big Bang specialist. This entire room has been wired with plastique. If you don’t want to end up splattered from wall to wall, you’ll toss the guns right now.” Grunting, Snake did so. “Very good. Now then. I managed to crack ArmsTech’s security lock out. In exactly ten minutes, Colonel Atlas will launch his missiles. If you want to get to him, you have to get past us first.”

“Sounds fine to me,” Snake replied, taking a defensive stance. “One by one, or all at once. Doesn’t matter. I intend to get through that door.”

“Such a fighting spirit,” Doc Tarantula mused. “The commander put him through the ringer and he’s still determined to fight. Very well then, Snake. We’ll give you a chance.” She snapped her fingers, and the soldier stepped forward. “A simple contest. All you have to do is win against FOXHOUND’s newest recruit.” The soldier removed his helmet and jacket, revealing his… or rather HER identity.

“DOMINOE!” Snake yelled, taking a step forward. “Is that you? Are you okay?”

“Shut up!” she yelled back, raising the muzzle of her gun. “Dominoe no longer exists. My name is Eager Beaver. I’m a member of FOXHOUND, and you, Snake, are my enemy.”

“BASTARDS!” Snake yelled. “What the hell have you done to her?”

“The same thing we would have done to you, if we’d only had more time,” Gypsy Moth replied. “She’s now our willing companion, our own little special soldier… as well as our hot, sexy love slave.” ‘Beaver’ shuddered slightly, in pleasure at being referred to as their slave. “This will be a fight to the death. Either you kill her, or she kills you. Tell me,

Solid Snake, can you kill your comrade, knowing she is a helpless victim, and that she isn’t in control of her actions? Can you destroy this lovely young woman in cold blood?” Snake growled softly, saying nothing. Gypsy laughed. “Well, I guess we’ll soon see. Begin!”

Eager Beaver charged, catching Snake off guard. The attack was brutal and deadly, a thrust punch to the throat. Snake managed to pull back at the last second, softening the blow. He stumbled back, in pain, but still breathing. But Beaver gave him no quarter, following the punch with a series of strong kicks and chops, landing more than she missed, driving the reluctant warrior back. Snake gritted his teeth, defending as best he could, trying to think up some way out of this mess.

There’s got to be some way to snap her out of this, he thought frantically. I don’t want to kill her… assuming I can even get close enough to land a telling blow!

She’s faster than I am, and just as well trained in combat. I’m just barely able to hold my own against her.

A spinning heel kick caught him across the side of his jaw. Snake grunted, spitting blood, but countered with an attack, grabbing her extended ankle, and pushing, flipping the brainwashed CATT agent into the air. She recovered in mid-flip, arching her back, landing back on her feet, and lashing out with another hard kick. Snake grunted, barely dodging a blow that would have decapitated him. His anger was starting to get the better of him, and the old familiar battle rage was starting to take over. In the next exchange, he scored a telling blow, his fist cracking solidly against Beaver’s chin, stunning her for a moment. He followed up with a low spinning sweep, taking her off her feet.

Both combatants backed away, warily circling each other, with a measure of respect. Snake wracked his brain furiously, trying to find some way to jolt the girl’s memory. He wiped the sweat from his brow with his sleeve, rolling it up, preparing for more fighting, then froze, seeing the way her eyes tracked him. She’s staring at my sleeve, Snake realized. Instantly, everything he’d seen and read about agent Dominoe crystallized in his mind. An insane, desperate plan came into his mind then, and he held up a hand.

“Hold it… a second, Beaver,” he said, acting winded. “Need to… catch my breath for a moment.” He unbuttoned a few of his buttons, and lifted his shirt collar, fanning himself. “Whew. Guess I’m not as young as I used to be.”

His opponent eyed him curiously. Something about the state of his clothes bugged her. It tickled something deep within her, something she couldn’t quite recall. Seeing the distress on her face, he smiled, shaking his head, and raised his fists again. “Okay. I’m ready now,” he said, going into a defensive stance once more. “Let’s go.”

“Gladly,” Beaver replied, launching into another attack. To her surprise, Snake didn’t even try to block, leaving himself completely open to her. At the last second, she stopped, her fist inches away from his vulnerable face. She leaped back, surprised at her own behavior, and rushed forward again, this time with a flying kick. Again, Snake left himself completely open, and again, Beaver checked her blow, stopping at the last second.

“Dammit, Beaver!” Doc yelled loudly. “What the hell are you doing? HIT him! Finish him off! Kill that son of a bitch!”

Beaver’s eyes narrowed. She had been told to kill the man, to finish him. She would do whatever she had to do to pleas her Mistress. She grabbed Snake about the throat, and squeezed, cutting off his wind. Again, Snake refused to defend himself, gasping for air, but not trying to pull at her hands. Just as he neared unconsciousness, Beaver released him. Stunned, she backed away, shaking her head.

“Fool!” Gypsy Moth yelled. “What are you doing? You had him! Kill Solid Snake now! Prove yourself to us! Do it NOW!!”

“I… can’t…” Beaver said, shaking her head. “I can’t kill him… can’t kill… a defenseless man…” She stared at him, confusion evident on his face. She had to kill him. Had been COMMANDED to kill him. She was a soldier. She followed orders. She would obey, MUST obey… but she couldn’t. COULD NOT. “Why?” she yelled, pressing her hands to her temples. “Why can’t I obey? Why? WHY? WHY? WHY!”

Snake ran to her, holding her gently in his arms. “Because you’re a CATT agent,” he said, looking her straight in the eyes. “They screwed with your head, but who you are, and WHAT you are goes deeper than that. You’re NOT some mindless pawn that only obeys orders. You’re not FOXHOUND. Your name is Dominoe. You’re a member of CATT. I’m not your enemy, they are!”

“NO!” Doc yelled, rushing forward, raising a gun, and pointing it at Snake’s head. “Don’t listen to him, my pet! You’re one of us. He’s just trying to trick you! Think! You know who your friends are!”

Beaver blinked, and breathed in deeply, pushing herself back from Snake’s embrace. “Yes,” she said slowly. “I know who my friends are now. I’m okay. Toss me my gun. I’ll end this right now.”

Doc grinned, walking over to her pet. “Sorry, Snake,” the raven-haired woman said, handing over the rifle. “Looks like you lose.”

“I don’t think so, Doc,” Dominoe cried, swinging her weapon, smashing the butt soundly into the doctor’s face, right above the left eye. The woman staggered back, clutching her face in agony, as the others shouted in alarm. “Snake! Catch!” Dominoe yelled, tossing him the rifle, as she dove for his discarded handgun.

“Shit!” Hyena yelled, running for the door, still holding the remote in his hand. “Kiss your asses goodbye!”

“Oh no you don’t!” Dominoe yelled, shooting on the fly, blowing the device out of Hyena’s hand. The bomber squealed in pain, making his way out of the room. She moved to go after him, but Gypsy Moth stepped in the way.

“You’re not getting past me, girl,” the terrorist snarled. Dominoe glanced over at Snake.

“Go after Hyena, Snake,” she said, gesturing over her shoulder. “Stop him before he and the Colonel launch the nukes. I’ll take care of Gypsy.”

Snake frowned, looking at her intently for a moment. “Alright,” he said at last, cocking his SOCOM. “Meet me down below once you finish up here. If I’m too late to stop them from activating Rex, I’ll need your help taking it out.”

Dominoe watched him go, and then yelled out. “Oh, and Snake, one last thing!”

“Yeah?” he said, coming to a halt.

“Uhm, will you… can you please fix your shirt?” Snake sighed, rolling his eyes skyward, but he straightened his collar, unrolled his sleeve, and smoothed out his shirt as he departed.

Gypsy Moth stood by silently, waiting until she was alone with Dominoe. “So, you managed to break free of my control,” she said matter-of-factly, making her way towards the sexy agent’s location. No one’s ever broken free before. You CATT agents are truly exceptional. It’s really a shame to have to kill you.”

Dominoe nodded, lowering her gun, kicking it to the floor. “Funny, I was thinking just the same. Still, I have no problem taking you out if it’s the only way I can get past you.”

“We’ll see about that!” Gypsy yelled, flinging up her arms. The movement sent a fine white powder airborne, salting Dominoe’s eyes. Crying out, she closed her burning eyes shut, hands over her face in protection. A sharp kick to her gut, unseen, sent her to the floor. Her vision impaired, Dominoe went defensive, huddling into a tight ball, trying to defend herself from the next attack. A stunning blow struck her across the temple, sending her to her knees. Gypsy laughed. “This is almost too easy,” she chuckled. “But its so much fun.”

Dominoe focused on the voice, locking its location in her mind. A slight noise warned her of movement, and she ducked just as a kick swept by. Moving quickly, she struck, catching the surprised woman in chest, knocking her back. Angry now, she charged in with a series of punches, each of which the prepared Dominoe dodged. She countered this time with a sweep, sending Gypsy to the ground. She rubbed her watering eyes, which had finally begun to clear.

“Damn you!” the redhead snarled, scuttling away. Dominoe heard the distinct sound of a gun being cocked. “Let’s see if you’re good enough to dodge THIS!”

Staring through a sea of vision distorting tears, she saw the metallic glint of the rifle pointing at her. Her own rifle lay far out of reach. Stepping back, her hands brushed the small knife pouch around her belt. Well, it’s better than nothing, she thought, sliding the hilt free.

“Say goodbye, Dominoe,” Gypsy Moth said, taking aim, as her finger squeezed the trigger.

Dominoe dove hard, hitting the ground, simultaneously tossing the blade, as a trail of bullets cut through her previous position. She grunted, the wind knocked out of her, as she struggled to regain her feet. No second round of bullets came. Regaining her feet, she saw Gypsy, eyes wide, the blade imbedded deep in her chest. She slowly lowered the gun to the ground. “It… it can’t… be…” she murmured softly, staring at Dominoe in shock. “I didn’t… I never saw it coming…” She slumped to the ground, dead. The agent retrieved her gun once more and raced forward, on to the next chamber.

Inside, Snake and Hyena were engaged in a titanic battle. Hyena was using his weapons of choice, explosives; the ground was littered with black scorch marks from the grenades he was tossing. Snake had managed to hold his own, staying out of range of the blasts, but unable to get that one clear shot to end the contest. Dominoe took aim with her own gun, trying to get a clear shot.

“Aha! Another combatant takes the field!” Hyena said with a laugh. He tossed a grenade in her direction. Snake, however, moved faster, reaching out a hand, catching the bomb in mid-toss, and lobbing it back at the assassin.

“Get down!” Snake yelled, running back from Hyena’s position as the shocked soldier found the grenade returned back to its owner. A loud blast issued forth moments later, and a blinding flash lit up the room. When it cleared, little remained of the bomber other than a red and black stain on the ground and a scattering of pulverized flesh. Snake glanced at Dominoe and smirked. “Thanks for the assist, kid. But don’t get comfy. The worst is just ahead.”

They ran along the corridor, down another flight of stairs, ending at a huge set of double doors. Dominoe pushed at the door, shoving hard, to no avail. “It’s locked tight,” she said, rubbing her shoulder. “Now what?”

“Step back.” Snake planted a small brick of plastique along the center of the doors, and then ran back up the stairs, joining Dominoe in safety. “A little something I swiped from

Nitro,” he said, twisting the detonator. A huge explosion rocked the building, followed by the creaking of torn, twisting metal. Snake handed Dominoe two of the C-4 packets. “Here. These might come in handy. Let’s move it! Times almost up!”

They rushed through the doorway, past several downed soldiers, and no doubt caught by surprise when the door exploded inward. “Colonel!” Snake yelled, spying the man behind the man console. “It’s over! You and your private army are finished!” He fired a volley of rounds at the man, who merely laughed, as the bullets bounced off the protective bulletproof glass covering the control console.

“Sorry, Snake,” Atlas replied, flipping a series of switches. “I’m afraid its YOU who are finished!” He turned to a technician manning one of the computers. “Raise the platform!

Prepare to activate Metal Gear Rex! I’ll handle these intruders.” The technician obliged, and the steel supports released, unlocking the huge metal monstrosity. Metal Gear Rex came to life, its systems coming online. Overhead, the ceiling opened up, showing the dark star-filled Australian sky.

Walking slowly out from the protective glass, Colonel Atlas smiled wickedly, showing off the heavy Gatling gun and turret strapped to his chest. The contraption, obviously weighing several hundred pounds, affected the Colonel very little, as he casually turned, locking his sights on the two intruders.

“Shit! Take cover!” Snake yelled, leaping back as Atlas began firing. The rotating chain gun followed him, cutting a trail of destruction in its wake. When Snake took refuge behind a stack of metal crates in the corner, Atlas turned towards Dominoe, sending a deadly flurry of death in her direction. The lithe agent managed to avoid the bullets, slipping behind a stack of crates on the opposite side of the room. Colonel Atlas laughed.

“What now, Snake? Are you going to sit there and hide while Metal Gear Rex comes online? And what about you, agent Dominoe? Do you intend to watch while I fire my missiles at the United States?” He fired again, sending another hundred rounds of ammunition through the air. “Come on! You both want death! I’m having a special today—- two secret agents for the price of one!”

Behind him, the platform sprang to life. Huge hydraulic pumps began raising the walking battle tank upwards. Dominoe cursed loudly. Time was up. They had to act now.

“Hey kid!” Snake yelled, cocking his SOCOM. “When I tell you, make a break for that platform. You’ll have to stop Rex before it can fire the nukes. You don’t have anything that can pierce Rex’s metal skin, but you just might be able to damage the sensor array with that C-4 I gave you. It’s our only chance, kid.”

Dominoe nodded grimly. Whether she stayed and faced Atlas and his gatling gun, or went after Metal Gear by herself, their chances of victory were very slim. She found herself nearly breathless with arousal. She’d never been so close to orgasm from the danger of a mission before. It was a wonder that Snake was as calm and focused as he was. When this is all over, she thought, preparing to rush the platform, I think I’d like to learn more about this guy. He’s very… intriguing.

“Now!” Snake shouted, leaping up, firing at the Colonel, while running across the room, seemingly heading towards the lift. Atlas fired back, turning to follow Snake, concentrating his aim on the male operative. Snake dove and rolled, dodging the deadly storm of bullets just as they cut through his position. He grunted, hit in the shoulder by a few stray rounds, but got back to his feet, returning fire at the Colonel.

Dominoe, meanwhile, had taken advantage of the distraction. Running full tilt, she swept past the Colonel on his blind side, planted her feet, and vaulted up into the air, catching the edge of the raised platform. She dangled there, precariously, struggling to haul herself up before the platform passed through the open roof. The technician, noticing her, shouted a warning to the Colonel, who turn, and took aim.

“I’ve got you now, Dominoe!” he yelled, his finger tight on the trigger.

A single bulled exploded through his face, bursting out the back of his skull. Dead, the

Colonel spasmed, squeezing the trigger even as he fell lifeless to the ground. The bullets grazed Dominoe’s thigh, drawing blood, but not disabling her. Glancing to the left, she saw Snake, the rifle still in place, the muzzle smoking from the round fired. “No, Colonel, he said softly, “I got you.”

The roof was inches away. Dominoe heaved herself up, and then rolled away from the edge as the platform eased its way through, and locked into place. Rex stood before her, its systems completely active, its weapons ready to fire. Dominoe looked up at the twenty-foot tall battle machine, frowning in dread, as the tank’s pilot called down to her.

“You can’t stop us!” Doc Tarantula called down. “From up here, you look like an ant, a tiny little insect, just begging to be squashed!” Rex stirred to life, striding forward, a massive foot raised high in the air above Dominoe’s head. She managed to move out of the way in time, dodging to the left, but the impact of that foot knocked her off balance.

“You’re a slippery one,” Doc called down, amused. “But I think it’s time I showed you just what Rex can do.” The cockpit closed up, sealing itself tight, as Rex’s Vulcan cannons went active. Dominoe, moving instinctively, ran towards the huge tank, just as the guns began firing. Rex followed her position, lowering itself, trying to keep the sexy CATT agent in range, but Dominoe found safety between Rex’s legs.

“Just where I wanted you!” Doc’s voice replied through Rex’s intercom. Again, the huge foot rose and fell, stomping flat anything in its wake. Dominoe, however, had been ready.

She caught hold of the knee joint, just as the metal behemoth’s foot came crashing down, and climbed quickly along Rex’s leg, hauling her tired aching body up the length of Rex’s body.

Doc went livid with anger, unable to fire on her target now without hitting Rex itself. She sent Rex into a series of jumps, kicks, and stomps, trying to shake Dominoe loose, but the CATT agent refused to be shaken. She managed to make it to the top of Rex’s back, crawling carefully along its spine, trying to make her way over to the sensor array. Doc, sensing what was afoot, started the missile launch countdown. The ten missile bay door opened, steaming up as they prepared to fire. Dominoe, flipped to the side by an opening panel, slid along the smooth metal frame, managing to snag the edge before falling. The sensor array was less than five feet away.

“You’ve failed!” Doc called triumphantly. “Targets are all locked! In thirty seconds, it will all be over! We’ve won!” She lurched Rex sharply to the right, shaking Dominoe loose. Dominoe, a true CATT, managed to land somewhat on her feet, though the impact sent her sprawling. Dirty, bruised, bleeding from several wounds, she stared up at Rex, as Doc brought the Vulcan cannons to bear on her position. “And now, my dear, you die!”

“Not… just… yet,” Dominoe rasped, twisting the small detonator in her hand. The C-4 she’d tossed onto the sensor array even as she was falling exploded, sending a rain of metal fragments down around her. Doc let out a savage cry as her controls went blank. The missile doors slid closed again one by one, unable to launch without targeting information. Dominoe struggled wearily to her feet, as Metal Gear Rex’s cockpit swung open once more.

“You fucking bitch!” Doc screamed, enraged. “You’ve ruined everything! But I’ll still have the pleasure of killing you!” Rex kneeled, bringing its cannons back to bear on Dominoe. Denied computerized sensor input, and automatic tracking, Doc was forced to use her own eyes to fire. Dominoe moved deftly, dodging shell after shell, making her way again towards Rex’s only blind spot, between its legs. Doc knelt lower, trying to cut off Dominoe’s escape… just as the CATT agent had hoped. She removed the last C-4 brick and tossed it high. Doc acquired a target lock, just as the plastique landed in her lap. She screamed, as Dominoe twisted the final detonator, blowing her to hell.

Rex was rocked mightily from the explosion. Its computer systems were damaged, and its sensor array was gone. Without a pilot to maneuver the control, Metal Gear Rex shifted, wobbled slightly to the left, tilted, and then fell onto its side…

Epilogue

Several hours later, Dominoe sat in the back of a large white van, letting the attendant treat her injuries. She’d made a full report to Chief Davis over codec following the destruction of Rex. Australian authorities, and a small unit of US forces, alerted by the explosions, had rushed the scene, capturing what was left of the Colonel’s private army.

Rook, arriving in the CATT helicopter, rushed over to the van.

“How’re you doing, Dom?” he asked, the concern evident on his face.

“A little sore, a little bruised here and there, but okay,” she commented. “Any news on

Snake yet?”

Rook shook his head. “Nothing. We’ve combed the entire area. It’s a real mess down there. We found Colonel Atlas’s body, along with a number of dead soldiers, but no sign of this guy. You sure he was wounded?”

“Yeah. I saw him get shot.” Dominoe shook her head. “This guy… Rook, I tell you, he was incredible. When I saw him again in the bunker, after he’d escaped from Atlas’ torture room he looked like hell. The Colonel really did a number on him. Hell, I fought with him, and he gave me a run for my money. He was really something else.”

“Yeah, well, I suppose if he’s as good as you say he is, he probably made it out okay.” Rook sighed, brushing sand colored hair from his eyes. “There’s one thing I don’t get, Dom. You said that Gypsy and Doc had you brainwashed, had you completely in their sway. How did manage to snap out of it?”

Dominoe smiled ruefully. “It was Snake. He knew about my little… hang up. He didn’t want to fight, and he was obviously looking for a way to jolt my memory. So, when we both backed off a bit to take a breather, he purposely messed with his clothes. He introduced a subtle psychological strain on me, something my mazed mind couldn’t identify with, but something my subconscious mind knew only too well. Plus, he stopped fighting. He left himself totally open, not even trying to defend himself.”

She shook her head in amazement. “I guess he knew me better than I knew myself. I’m a trained killer, Rook. I do this for my country. I kill people. Bad people. But, it’s always life or death, kill or be killed. I’ve never slain a defenseless person before, someone who couldn’t fight back. It’s just how I feel, you know? A personal code of conduct. When Gypsy Moth commanded me to kill him, and he didn’t even try to defend himself… I couldn’t. I couldn’t obey. The conflict against who I really was, and what I was being told to do, finally broke me free.”

“Clever man, this Solid Snake,” Rook mused. “Well, perhaps we’ll cross paths with him again someday.”

“Yeah,” Dominoe said, glancing across the night sky, at an unmarked helicopter flittered across the horizon. “Somehow, I’m sure of it.” She wrapped an arm around Rook’s back. “Come on, let’s go home.”

THE END