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合金装备1官方小说(中英)第三章

时间:2008-11-26 09:42来源:MGCN 作者:fengmosn,brightxy,Ca 点击:
MGCN独家翻译官方英文小说

3

THE MAN KNOW AS Master Miller rolled his fists against the punching bag and produced a pounding, steady rhythm that might have come from an African or a Latino rock band. Working out in his makeshift gym three hours a day not only kept his aging body fit, it gave his reclusive life focus and purpose. After all, separating himself from the hustle and bustle of the “real world” did have a few drawbacks. Miller would never admit it, but there were times when he left utterly alone. Most days that was a good thing… and others, not so good. For his money, exercise was the cure-all.

  With a distinguished career serving in the SAS, the Green Berets, the Marine Corps, and FOXHOUND, Miller was one of those soldier whom you could take out of the military, but you couldn’t take the military out of the man. It was why he was FOXHOUND’s authority on survival training. The fact that he was of the third-generation American-Japanese ancestry made no difference to the top brass. The guy was a patriot and an American through and through. He had a reputation of being an ornery SOB and the epitome of the loud, aggressive drill instructor, but each and every one of his recruits would forever utter his name with respect.

  As Miller continued to pound the bag, he heard one of his huskies howl. That wasn’t unusual. There were wolves in the wilderness where Miller had chosen to build a house, and his huskies often did their duty by scaring the beasts away. But suddenly the howl cut off sharply, as if something had silenced the dog with finality.
  
  Miller grabbed the punching bag to still its rapid pulsation. He listened carefully but heard only the wind, which had picked up considerably in the last few hours. Never one to ignore a premonitory warning, Miller moved fluidly across the gym floor and to a clipboard, checked that it contained a full magazine, and racked the slide. He then climbed the stairs to the ground floor and sprinted to the central alarm systerm control box.

  It was dead. Miller punched buttons on the monitors, but each of the six screens was blank. There was no way he could see what was outside the house.

  Someone had to be damned good to find him, he thought. Like Solid Snake, he had built a home in the far eastern Alaskan wilderness, near the Canadian border. There was no easy way to reach the place, and the one and only road leading to the structure was covered in several feet of snow. Besides, his security cameras would have picked up any vehicle traversing the path a mile away.
Miler turned and leaped over the couch in his living room. He lay prone on the wooden floor, listening and waiting for the sound of intruders. By hiding behind the piece of furniture, perhaps he would have the element of surprise in his favor.

  But after five minutes there was noting. Could he have imagined it? Should he go check on his dogs? But if it was a false alarm, why would his security systerm be on the blink?

  No, something was definitely wrong. Call it Zen, call it a six sense, call it bullshit- Master Miller knew someone was in the house.
Then he noticed the sweet-smelling odor. It reminded him of a dentist’s office. Laughing gas? No, this was different. But whatever is was? It couldn’t be good. He had to get out of the house, and fast. Unfortunately, he was wearing gym shorts, tennis shoes, and a tank top. Outside it was minus thirty or forty degrees Fahrenheit.
Miller rose and attempted to jump back over the couch but immediately felt the effects of the gas. His reaction time was much slower, and his head felt like a helium balloon, ready to float to the ceiling with out his body. He stumbled to get to his closet, don something warm, and jump through the escape hatch to the ice cave beneath the basement, Miller struggled to run across the room.

  The smell was much stronger now. Miller thought it was probably sevoflurane, one of the most powerful and popular gases used in modern anesthesia.

  Miller’s feet felt like lead bricks as he tried to life them. With a rapidity that surprised him, a wave of confusion enveloped his brain, and the horizon tilted. There was a sensation of falling, but it seemed to take forever. He didn’t feel the crash as his face smacked into the floor.

  With one final effort, Miller crawled a foot or two before the darkness overcame him.

 

 

 

Chapter 3

Miller教官将拳头雨点般击打在沙袋上,奏出一种似南美土著或是拉丁摇滚般的充满节奏感的声音。每天在他的临时健身馆里训练三小时不仅仅保持他的身体健康,也给了他的隐居生活以目标。毕竟,他总时不时地回想起“现实世界”中的高节奏与喧闹。Miller从不愿承认这些,但是寂寞还是会不期然地侵扰他,在大多数日子,那时对他来说很不错,但也有些日子例外……相比他的钱,训练是最好的。
他经历过精英的SAS、绿色贝雷帽、海军陆战队和猎狐犬生涯。他就是那种你能够让他脱离军队,但绝不能让军队的精神背离它的战士。这也是为什么他成为了猎狐犬的生存教官。他并不是因为作为美日混血的第三代而担任这一要职,他是一个彻头彻尾的爱国者。他作为一个鸡蛋里挑骨头的SOB和好斗的训练指导的名声流传已久,但是每一个他麾下的新兵都会永远充满敬意地称呼他。
正当Miller继续猛击着他的沙包时,他听见了他的爱斯基摩犬叫了一声。这没有什么好在意的,在他定居的地方有着许多的野狼,而他的狗总会尽忠职守地赶跑它们。但是犬吠急促地停止了,好像有什么力量使它们永远地闭上了嘴。
Miller抓住沙袋,试图让它停止震动。他侧耳静听却只听见已经持续数月的呼啸的风声。决不要忽视任何微小的预警,Miller窜出训练馆,来到他预备了一对手枪的记录板前。他主要的装备都在房子的另一部分,但是它习惯于在屋子的每一个房间里备上一些武器。他取下一把Glock9毫米,确认了一下弹夹是满的,又将板推了回去。接着,他爬上楼梯来到地面,然后急跑到中央警报控制盒前。
被破坏了,Miller按下显示器上的按钮,但是六个屏幕上都只有空白一片。他根本没有办法了解外面的状况。
居然有人能找到他。他像Snake一样,选择在临近加拿大边境的阿拉斯加的大荒野定居。要想到达这个地方,唯一的途径是通过一条积雪数尺深的道路,这可不是一件容易的事。此外,它的安保摄像机理应能捕捉到任何数里外通过的车辆。
Miller转过身,跳过卧室里的长条凳,伏身在木制的地板上,等待着入侵者的每一点细微的声音。他躲在家具后面,准备给这位不速之客一点小小的惊喜。
但是五分钟过去了,什么也没有发生。难道这一切只是他的想象?他是不是应该去检查一下他的狗?但假如这是一个错误的警报,为什么它的安保系统出了问题?
不,一定什么地方出问题了。可以说是直觉,可以说是第六感,也可以说是胡扯——Miller教官觉得有人在屋子里。
突然他感觉到了一阵异样的甜香,这让他想到了牙医的诊所。难道是笑气?不,不太一样。但是不论如何,这肯定不是什么好东西。他必须出去,马上!可是,他只穿着运动短裤、背心、网球鞋,而屋外是零下三四十度的阿拉斯加雪原。
Miller站起身,试图跳过长椅,但是他突然感受到了气体的作用。他的反应变得缓慢,只觉得意识像一个氢气球,将要脱离身体飘向天花板。他脚下一个踉跄,跌倒在长椅上,但是他又试着爬了起来。他打算去壁橱拿到一些保暖的衣物,然后从逃生秘道进入地基下的冰窟,于是他挣扎着向前跑去。
气味越来越浓,Miller猜想可能是七氟异丙甲醚,在现代麻醉常用的最有效最流行的麻醉气体之一。
Miller的双脚已经如灌了铅的砖块一般难以迈动了。一阵迷惑的感觉突然包裹住了他的思维,只觉得地平线开始倾斜。他感到自己正在跌倒,然而这个感觉一直持续,没有终结,他甚至没能感觉到脸砸在地面上的疼痛。
凭着最后的一点努力,Miller在彻底的黑暗降临之前,再次向前爬了一两尺的距离。

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