返回首页
当前位置: 首页 > 文章 > 剧情 >

合金装备1官方小说(中英)第七章

时间:2008-12-23 10:53来源:MGCN 作者:fengmosn,brightxy,Ca 点击:
MGCN独家翻译官方英文小说
7

THE FREIGHT ELEVATOR stopped at the second-floor basement, and the doors opened to a large, dimly lit room the size of a gymnasium. Concrete pillboxes were positioned across the floor. Snake figured that each one contained supplies and weapons. He hugged the wall and moved to the corner of the room to survey the situation. It was very quiet… too quiet.

  And what the hell happened to Meryl? Where did she run off to?

  “Snake, you’re in an armory,” Mei Ling said. “Our intelligence reports that each of those concrete blocks is sealed with a Security Level One lock. The ArmsTech president is most likely beyond the armory, in one of the storage rooms on the other side of the pillboxes.”

  “Thanks. You know, there’s something about this place I don’t like.” Snake reached into his pouch and retrieved the thermal goggles he had snatched. He put them on and immediately noticed the warm outline of a square on the floor in front of him. A trapdoor-what those in the business called a murder door. More often than not, a gruesome death in the form of a long drop, steel spikes, or a drowning pool awaited the unwary soul who fell into one.

  Snake made a running start and jumped over the trap. He kept the goggles on in case there were more, but now he understood why there weren’t any guards about. Why waste manpower when booby traps could do the work?

  By clearing the first murder door, Snake had access to the closest pillbox. He swiped Anderson’s PAN card, and the steel door slid open. He stepped inside and was happy to find boxes of SOCOM ammunition, along with extra handguns. He grinned as he envisioned himself as a cowboy with a gun holster on each side of his waist. A two-first automatic gunslinger…wouldn’t it be fun? Unfortunately, he didn’t have another holster, so he picked up one of the handguns, loaded it with a full magazine, and put it in his pouch. He then grabbed as much ammunition as he could carry. There were other types of arms and ammo, but there was only so much a guy could do with two hands. Snake left them and exited the pillbox.

  The thermal goggles picked up another trap in the floor on the way to the next block. Once again, Snake leaped over it, moved swiftly to the next pillbox door, and used the PAN card to get inside.
Explosives. Lots and lots of C4 explosive. The stuff came in small containers that were attached to a surface by magnets or sticky tape. Remote sensors activated the things, and they were good for demolishing low- to medium-level security doors, wood, some plasters and concrete- depending on the thickness-and cameras. They wouldn’t be effective on steel. Nevertheless, Snake picked up three of them and stuffed each one in a separate pocket on his trousers.

  He left the block, studied the floor in front of the third pillbox, and discerned another trap. This one he could skirt. The PAN card opened the security door, and he was inside the block.
This one appeared to be stocked with various types of grenades and other explosives. There were some frags- fragmentation grenades. The Claymores were way too bulky, he already had some chaffs, and the flash-bangs caused too much attention for Snake’s comfort, so he grabbed three frags and thrust them into the bulging utility pouch.

  “Find anything useful, Snake?” It was Romanenko on the Codec.

  “Lots of grenades. Some Claymores. They’re too big to carry.”

  “You should maybe try. Claymores can be set up above ground and are designed to produce maximum damage in a wide fan-shaped area. When they go off, they spray seven one-point-two-millimeter steel pellets in a sixty-degree pattern, much like an oversize shotgun. Traditionally, Claymores use a trip wire to set them off, but the ones you have there are a new type. They are camouflaged using the new stealth technology and are equipped with sophisticated motion detectors.”

  Snake almost laughed. “You really know your sh – er, your stuff, eh, Nastasha?”

  “I take pride in my work, if that is what you mean.”

  “Never mind. Talk to you later.”

  He exited the pillbox and proceeded to the storage room area where Baker most likely was being held, but he encountered a concrete wall where the map indicated a door should be. And it was unpainted. Was this what Anderson had told him about? He examined the texture and determined that it was a fairly new structure; it had been plastered within the last couple of days. Thus, it was still weak.

  Snake loved coincidences like this. A C4 canister was just the ticket for the job. He just hoped that the noise of the blast wouldn’t alert the entire army of genomes and bring them down on his head but saw no other alternative.

  “Colonel, I have to blast my way through a wall.” He explained the situation, and Campbell concurred with the strategy. Snake scanned the floors and walls to make sure no cameras were pointed his way and then took one of the C4 containers, exposed the sticky tape, and placed the object in the middle of the freshly painted plaster. He flicked the switch on, moved back behind the pillbox, and held the remote in his hand. The explosive wasn’t timed; he could detonate it at any time with the touch of a button. Snake placed his thumb on the trigger, said “Mazel tov,” and pushed it.

  The blast was loud but not as thunderous as he’d expected. Still, it surely would send someone his way.

  Light shone behind the thick clouds of smoke and dust that clung to the air around the hole in the wall. Snake waited a moment, his SOCOM in hand and ready. Sure enough, the silhouette of a trooper appeared. The soldier played it safe by staying behind the wall and peering out through the smoke. Then another man joined him.

  Too bad that backlighting gives you two away.

  The sound-suppressed SOCOM jerked twice, and the troopers dropped like bags of refuse. Snake rushed to the edge of the hole, hugged the wall, and waited for any others to investigate why someone would blow a hole in their nice new wall. But none did. He ducked through the opening, waved away the debris in the air, and moved toward the light. The air cleared a few yards into the storage block, and he saw a man sitting in a chair by a pillar. He was positioned directly beneath a bright interrogation lamp. As Snake moved closer, it was apparent that the man was tied to the chair and had a gag in his mouth. He, too, obviously had been tortured recently.

  The explosion must have frightened the man terribly. His eyes darted around in panic. Snake approached him, help up his hands, and said, “I’m a friend. Are you ArmsTech president Baker?”
The man nodded furiously.

  Snake reached over and took off the gag. The man coughed violently and spot blood on the floor. Snake started to untie the knots, but baker cried, “No! don’t touch me!”
  Then he saw it. A pack of C4 had been strapped to Baker’s back, between his shoulder blades. The ropes were attached to the explosive in such a way that loosening them would set it off. Snake examined the canister and realized it would take some time to neutralize the thing. As for Baker, the man looked as if he was at death’s door anyway. He was breathing shallowly and barely could hold up his head.

  “I’m going to get you out of here,” Snake said. “Somehow.”
But a booming voice cut through the cold, concrete room. “So you’re the one the Boss keeps talking about.”

  Snake whirled to see a tall figure wearing a duster and several belts of ammunition around his chest. The man had long yellow-white hair, a beard, and long mustache. Snake thought Central Casting could use him for the role of General George Custer in a community theater production of the Battle of the Little Big Horn. The man grasped a six-shooter in his right had, and for a crazy moment Snake was remainded of his recent cowboy daydream. Again, a coincidence.

  “And you must be Revolver Ocelot,” Snake said. “That’s quite a get-up you have on. Didn’t they tell you the Sioux surrendered a long time ago and live in peace now?”

  “I’ve been looking forward to meeting you, Solid Snake,” Ocelot said. “You have quite a reputation to live up to. You know, it really is amazing how much you resemble Big Boss. I met him once.”

  “Did you?” Snake kept his hand on the SOCOM, ready to blast the guy once he finished reminiscing.

  “I first met him in the sixties! We had a duel.” Ocelot laughed. “Big Boss beat me, too, fair and square. Your daddy was quite the warrior. Do you measure up to him?”

  “I don’t know. I didn’t bring my ruler.”

  Ocelot’s eyes narrowed. “Your mission is over, Snake!”

  The pair stood several paces apart, with the pathetic Mr.Baker in the middle. “Please…help me…” the wounded man whimpered.
Ocelot slowly held up his gun and pointed the barrel upward, indicating hat he wasn’t going to shoot. “A Colt singleaction Army. An original. Finest six-shooter ever made. Six bullets…more than enough to kill anything that moves. I see you use a SOCOM. The handgun chosen by the U.S. Special Operations Command. Hah! Everyone wants to use the newest and latest technology. Back in the old days, when they really knew how to make things, gunsmiths put their souls into their work. As they say, it ain’t the wand, it’s the magic in it! I can use this gun like it’s part of my own body.”
He twirled the handgun around his finger with the panache of a western star and then thrust the barrel into the holster at his side.
The glove had been thrown.

  The two men faced each other, their gun hands ready for a quick draw. Snake slowly inched to his right so that Baker would not be in the line of fire. Ocelot mirrored the steps, but Baker was still dangerously close.

  Throughout Snake’s long career, he had never had to duel another man face-to-face in such a fashion. The scene prompted him to imagine himself on a stage performing the grand climax of an archetypals sang their guts out. Or perhaps he was the protagonist in one of the old Italian Western movies.

  Snake felt a trickle of sweat beneath his bandana as the synapses between his brain and trigger hand grew ultrasensitive. In the time it took to not think of drawing the weapon, it would be in Snake’s hand. It was something Master Miller had taught him: Let the phantom music in his head become a sound track to the situation and then envision each action in the past before actually doing it.

  He also had learned from Master Miller how to read a person’s eyes. “The truth always resides in a man’s eyes,” his mentor had said. Snake usually could determine if a person was lying, if he was friend or foe, by the eyes. Unfortunately, Ocelot’s eyes had squinted into dark slits, and it was difficult to see the whites, much less the soul that lurked behind the pupils Revolver Ocelot obviously took the gunslinger persona to an extreme.

  As if a clock were counting down, Snake felt the seconds tick closer to the final moment when the duelists had to draw. Knowing when to act depended on the instinct of a professional; timing was everything.

  Ocelot’s eyes glinted.

  Now.

  Ocelot drew his weapon.

  Snake saw himself in slow motion as he pulled the SOCOM from its holster and pointed it at the enemy. He simultaneously leaped to the right to perform a body roll. The trick was pulling the SOCOM’s trigger once his feet had left the ground and keeping the weapon properly aimed.

  Ocelot’s revolver fired, and the bullet soared over Snake’s left shoulder. If he hadn’t moved, it would have struck him in the face. Snake squeezed the trigger, released three rapid shots, hit the floor with his arm, rolled, and landed on his feet in a crouching position. The three rounds cut the air inches from Baker’s head and ricocheted off a metal girder just behind Ocelot’s yellow-white locks of hair. He jerked his head out of the way without moving the rest of his body, a sign that he had little fear.

  By then, Ocelot had fired two more rounds from the revolver. Snake felt the heat from the bullets as they soared too close to his rib cage for comfort. His momentum in moving sideways never faltered, and he took cover behind a girder. He quickly removed the sound suppressor- he’d have better aim without it – and then swung the SOCOM out from behind the beam and fired. But Ocelot also had hidden.

  The man’s voice came from behind a concrete pillbox in back of baker’s chair. “The challenge of a duel, for me, is reloading a revolver during battle,” Ocelot announced. “It’s such a risky thing to do, taking the time, making yourself vulnerable for those few seconds.” Snake heard the cylinder snap shut, and the Ocelot spun it. “Hear that, Snake? Such a beautiful sound. The sound of impending death.”

  Snake considered using one of the frag grenades but quickly nixed that idea because of the stockpiles of explosives around the area. And with the C4 strapped to Baker, Snake couldn’t risk it. He would have to depend exclusively on the SOCOM’s firepower and his ability to dodge Ocelot’s barrage to get through the duel.
“I love the smell of cordite,” Ocelot boasted. “The smell of fire, the smell of the devil, the smell from the bowels of the earth… it’s the smell of victory!”

  Snake eyed an area to his right that was full of stacks of crates. A work light on the ceiling illuminated the space much too well, so Snake took a head on the bulb and fired. It exploded, plunging the area in to shadow. He then ran for the first cover. He crouched low and crawled quickly to another stack. Form ther he could see Ocelot standing behind Baker, using the ArmsTech president for cover.
  The gunslinger had no idea where Snake was, but that didn’t stop his bravado. “It won’t do you any good to hide back there, Snake! There’s no way out. I’m sure our noisy little tete-a-tete will summon a squad of genome troopers in minutes.”


  Snake needed to force Ocelot away from Baker. A steam pipe stretched down from the ceiling and along a girder that was directly over the terrorist’s head. To get a better shot, Snake lay prone and raised his arm at a forty-fie-degree angle from the floor. He aimed carefully, squeezed the trigger, and blew a hole in the pipe. A burst of hot steam his Revolver Ocelot on the side of his face. The man yelped and jumped aside. “Damn you!” he shouted. As the gunslinger moved, Snake let loose a salvo of spray fire and shot a couple of holes in the tail of Ocelot’s duster, but the man had slipped behind another pillar of cover.

Baker sniveled in fear as the hot steam from the burst pipe blasted over his head. Although it wasn’t burning him, Snake figured it wasn’t very comforting either. The sooner he got the ArmsTech president out of harm’s way, the better shape he’d be in to talk.


  Snake ran to another stack of crates but had no better shot at Ocelot there than before. The battle was destined to be a game of tag until one of them made a serious mistake and exposed himself for the split second it would take for the other to get a clean shot. Perhaps it would be advantageous for Snake to shoot out some more work lights. The thermal goggles would come in handy and could very well be his only hope of defeating the sharpshooter. Snake scanned the ceiling and shot out the nearest bulb, darkening the space around Baker. But that action gave away his position, prompting Ocelot to let loose a volley of rounds that forced the operative to crouch behind the crates.


  “It’s been so long since I’ve been in such a rewarding battle!” Ocelot said. “You’re not bad, Snake, I must admit. But it’s to be expected, I suppose, since you have the same code as the Boss. But I’m just getting warmed up. Very soon I will-”


  And then there was an ear-splitting cry of pain.


  At first Snake thought it was Baker, but he quickly realized that something had happened to Ocelot. He peered around the crates and saw that Ocelot’s trigger hand was gone. Blood gushed from the man’s severed forearm as he shouted, “Who?-What?-Aggh!”


  There was some one else in the room. Snake heard swishing sounds, the kind of noise made by a sword as it cut through air. He saw a dark figure pounce as the gunslinger ducked and leaped for safety. The blade crashed into the pillar, breaking off pieces of concrete. As the intruder moved about, his form seemed to appear and disappear, blending with the surroundings like a chameleon’s skin. He was fast, too.


  Stealth. The guy’s wearing a stealth suit.


  Revolver Ocelot turned and fled, holding his injured arm and leaving his lifeless right hand, still holding on the Colt, lying in a pool of blood on he floor. Snake stepped out from behind the crates to confront the intruder, but the figure had vanished. Snake rushed to baker, who had passed out from fear.


  “Baker, wake up!” he slapped the man gently on the cheeks, rousing him. But as soon as the ArmsTech president groaned back to life, Snake heard the whooshing sound of the blade. He ducked just in time, for the sword smashed into the pillar behind Baker. Snake performed a lateral roll on the floor to escape another blow from the sword, got to his feet, and faced his new enemy.


  The man was dressed as a ninja, completely covered in a sleek armored bodysuit nade from stealth material, as Snake had suspected. His face was masked by a helmet that had no hole for the eyes; instead, there was a glowing red sensor in the center, giving him a Cyclops-like appearance. In his right hand he held a replica of an eighth-century sword, but it wad equipped with an ultrasonic generator that created a highfrequency blade, allowing the weapon to cut through much denser substances that normally would be possible.


  But as the ninja moved, Snake gleaned more about the man’s costume. It was one of the latest optic camouflage actuator suits, an “exoskeleton,” usually worn by soldiers who had been wounded severely. The suit utilized a supersonic motor that operated with high-frequency voltage; in essence, the electric currents in the man’s muscles were detected and operated by the sensors in the suit.


  The man was a cyborg- a living human being controlled by machinery that kept him alive.


  A cyborg ninjia.


  “Who are you?” Snake asked. “Are you on the side of the terrorists?”


  “I am like you,” the ninja said in a metallic, electronic voice. “I have no name.”


  “Well, take it easy. I have no beef with you.”


  The ninja suddenly trembled and toughed his head with his free hand, as if he was experiencing a major headache. “I… am tortured.” Snake could hear the pain behind the words.

Something was terribly wrong with whoever was inside that exoskeleton.


  Then the cyborg straightened, brandished the highfrequency sword, and said. “Only the blaze of battle can wipe away the agony. Prepare yourself.”



  DR. NAOMI HUNTER twirled her swivel chair around away from her compuer monitor and stood.


  “I’ll be right back,” she said to Campbell.


  The colonel looked at her and saw that her face was ashen.
“Are you all right, Doctor?”


  “I’m fine. I just need to go to the ladies’ room.”


  “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”


  She laughed uncertainly and then continued on her way out of the control room. She walked down the hall, pushed open the door to the washroom, and went inside. Once along, she moved to the sink and held on to the sides to keep herself from collapsing. She looked into the mirror and didn’t recognize the shock that was apparent in her eyes.


  Could it be…?


  It was impossible…or was it?


  The man in the exoskeleton. As soon as she had heard his voice- filtered through the electronic voice box- the memories of her childhood trauma and subsequent salvation had flooded through her. She wanted to cry out in pain but wouldn’t allow herself to do so. For now she had to keep silent. For her sake and for his.


  What was he doing on Shadow Moses Island? It broke her heart to see him in that condition- the one he would have to live with for the rest of his life. To have to wear that horrid suit just to stay alive would be a hell beyond her wildest imagination. But that wasn’t the worst of it. It was apparent that the man’s mind was gone. Did he know who he was? Did he know about his former relationship with Solid Snake? Did he remember her?

His appearance on the island certainly threw a wrinkle into the mission.


  No matter what happened, Dr. Hunter knew she had to remain calm and not give herself away.


  For now.
 
Chapter 7
电梯停在了地下二层,当电梯门打开,出现在Snake眼前的是一个灯光昏暗的,大小有如一个体育馆的房间。混凝土筑成的库房排布在这里,Snake猜想里面都是物资和装备。他贴住墙,来到一个拐角处,探头观察周围的状况。这里实在是太安静了,安静得古怪。
见鬼,Meryl到底跑哪去了?
“Snake,你现在在一个武器库,”Mei Ling适时地在耳机中提醒,“我们的专家报告说这些库房都配备了一级安保锁,Arms重工的总裁一定就在后面,在库房另一端的储藏室里。”
“谢谢。不过这里有点令人不太习惯。”Snake的手摸进口袋里,掏出了红外线探测仪。他带上了探测仪,马上便发现前方不远处有一个方形的热影——陷阱。这应该是他们常说的“杀人暗门”。那是一个等待着可悲的灵魂落入的深不可测的、布置了钢制尖刺或是水潭的陷阱,光是听起来就够让人毛骨悚然。
Snake助跑了一阵,然后纵身一跃跳过了陷阱。他没有摘下探测仪,因为很难说前面还有没有更多。
他终于知道了为什么不在这里布置警卫:有这种见鬼的东西在,难道还需要浪费人力来巡逻这个地方?
躲过了第一道暗门,Snake来到最近的库房门前。他掏出Anderson的PAN卡划了一下,铁门打开了。他走进房间,满心欢喜地发现这里都是SOCOM的子弹和其他一些手枪。他想象自己像是一个西部牛仔般在腰带的两侧各别上一支手枪,然后不禁因为自己丰富的想象力而微微一笑。一个双手自动手枪的西部枪手?真是有趣。不过Snake再没有别的枪袋了,于是他抓起一支手枪,插上一个满的弹夹,然后丢进口袋。接着他又抓了尽可能多的子弹。这儿其实还有更多类型的武器和弹药,但是他毕竟只有两只手,拿得再多也没有什么用处,于是Snake丢下它们,走出了库房。
探测器在通往下一个库房的路上发现了另一个陷阱,Snake一跃而过,然后来到了库房门口,用PAN卡打开了门。
里面是炸药,数不胜数的C4。它们作为内填物装在可以用磁铁或是黏胶带固定的容器里,可以用遥控装置引爆。用它们可以炸开一些中低级防护度的门、石膏或石混凝土(视厚度而定)、还有安保摄像机。不过它们对钢材没有用。Snake拿起三个,放在裤子的三个不同口袋里。
他走出库房,看了下第三个库房前的走道,察觉出了又一个陷阱,不过不同的是这次这个它可以轻松绕过。他用PAN卡一划,库房门开了。
这次的库房里放满了手雷和一些其他的爆炸物:大砍刀地雷、电子干扰手雷、闪光弹、破片手雷。地雷实在太大了,Snake不得不考虑一下携带的舒适,因此他只抓了三个破片手雷塞进已经鼓鼓囊囊的裤兜里。
“找到什么宝贝了?”Romanenko透过CODEC问道。
“很多的手雷,还有大砍刀,不过它们太大了。”
“你应该试试,大砍刀可以被安放在地上,它能在一个扇形区域内造成极大的杀伤。当它们爆炸时,1.2毫米的金属弹片会散布在60度的范围内,就像一个放大化的霰弹枪。通常你都需要用引线来触发它,但是现在你手中的是一种新品种,它们使用了新的隐性伪装技术,并且能够通过振动检测引爆。”
Snake几乎要笑了出来:“你倒是对你该……呃,对你的本行很了解嘛。”
“我对我的职业充满了敬意,如果那正是你想说的。”
“好吧,以后再说。”
他走出库房,来到了Baker最有可能被监禁的储藏室,但是他却被地图上标记为门的一道混凝土墙挡住了,而且它还没有上漆。难道这就是Anderson所说的?他检查了一下墙的质地,注意到这是一个完全新砌的结构,不过是在几天之内封起来的,显然还很脆弱。
Snake就喜欢这样的巧合,一颗C4炸弹再适合不过了。他只希望爆炸声不会惊动基因士兵,然后把他逼进死角。
“上校,我得炸出条路来。”他陈述了一下情况,Campbell上校也对他的打算表示同意。
Snake确认了一下周围没有摄像机,然后拿出C4,装上黏胶贴,将它安放在了没上漆的(译者注:原文为“freshly painted”与前文“没有上漆”矛盾,现改之)石灰中央。他拧开了开关,然后退到了库房后边,手中拿着遥控装置。这些炸药没有定时引线,他可以在任何时候通过按钮遥控爆炸。Snake将拇指放在起爆按钮上面,说了声:“祝你好运(Mazel tov)。”然后按下了按钮。
炸药放出一声惊响,不过没有他料想中那么震耳欲聋。但是,还是有可能会招致一些不速之客。
透过弥漫在洞口的烟尘,另一侧的灯光已经隐约可见。Snake等了一等,握住SOCOM摆好准备姿势。果然,一个士兵的剪影映了出来,那个士兵自以为安全地从墙后探出头来,试图透过烟雾观察对面的情况。很快,又一个士兵加入了他。
可惜你们背后的灯光暴露了你们。
两声枪声响过,士兵像两个垃圾袋似的倒落。Snake跑到洞的边上,背脊贴住墙壁,等待着下一个来查看的士兵,可惜再没有人这么做。他跃过开口,拂开弥漫在空气中的烟尘,然后向着灯光走去。
空气在几码以外变得澄清,他终于能够看到一个男子坐在廊柱旁的一张椅子上,他的头上一盏明亮的审讯灯。随着Snake的走近,他能够看到那个男子被捆在椅子上,嘴里塞着一团东西。显然,他也刚受过残酷的折磨。
那阵爆炸看来把这个可怜人吓得不轻,他的双眼中还闪烁着惊恐。Snake走到他身边,拿起他的手说道:“我是自己人,你是Arms重工总裁Baker吧?”
男子激动地点点头。
Snake把身子凑了过去,拿下了塞在他嘴里的东西,男子一阵剧烈的咳嗽,喷出一口血在地上。Snake刚想去解开捆住他的绳子,Baker大喊道:“不!别碰我!”
他注意到了,一捆C4被系在Baker的背后,两翼肩胛之间,只要把绳子松开就会引爆它们。Snake检查了一下,意识到这玩意儿没上一些时间是搞不定的。但是对Baker来说,他已经撑不了多久了,他的呼吸开始变得虚弱无力,头也开始不住地往下倒。
“我马上就救你出去,”Snake道,“无论如何!”
一个声音划破钢筋混凝土间的冷寂:“你,就是头儿老是念叨的那个家伙吧!”
Snake急忙转过头去,看到一个身穿长风衣,腰间绕着一圈子弹的高大男子,他一头浅黄色的长发,唇上两撇小胡子,下巴上还留着长长的美髯。Snake心想中央剧院实在应该找他去演大小霍恩河战役里的乔治·卡斯特将军。他右手持一把六发左轮,Snake猛然回忆起他刚才对左轮牛仔的想象。
“你是Revolver Ocelot吧,”Snake回应道,“你的打扮已经过时了。他们没告诉你苏族(译注:与乔治·卡斯特将军在大小霍恩河战役中作战的印第安部族)好久以前已经投降,现在生活安乐了吗?”
“我期待与你的交手已经很久了,Solid Snake。你的名声很大。你知道吗,你Big Boss实在太像了,我认识他。”
“是吗?”Snake一手放在SOCOM上,准备在他回忆完的瞬间放倒他。
“我最早是在上世纪六十年代见到他,我们比试了一场,”Ocelot笑了,“他赢了,赢得公公正正,没有半点猫腻。你的父亲是一个真正的勇士,你比得上他吗?”
“我不知道,我从不以他为我的标尺。”
Ocelot眯起眼睛:“你的任务结束了,Snake!”
两人站开几步远,中间是奄奄一息的Baker在那儿喃喃:“请……救……救救我。”
Ocelot慢慢举起左轮,将枪管指向天花板,示意他不会开枪:“这是一把原装柯尔特左轮,最好的六发左轮之一。六发子弹……足以拿来干掉活物了。你用的是SOCOM,美国特种部队的专用武器。呵,每个人都想使用最新的科技。只有在过去,人们才知道如何去做一样东西,枪匠在他们的作品中投入全部的心血。按他们的说法,这可不是一根铁棒子,这其中是有魔法的!对我来说,这把枪就像是我身体的一部分。”
他像一个西部片明星那样在指尖华丽地旋起手枪,然后一把插进枪袋。然后褪下手套,甩在一边。
两个人面对着面,随时做好拔枪射击的准备。Snake一点点地向右边挪动,试图将Baker从射击的线路上避开。Ocelot保持着与他反方向行进,而Baker还是处于危险的位置。
在Snake的职业生涯中,他还从来没有经历过如此的一场面对面较量。他不禁想象自己正在管弦乐队的渐强音与和声部“撕心裂肺”地演唱中演出一部歌剧的高潮部分,或者就是一部就是意大利西部电影的主角。
一滴汗水沿着Snake的发带的边缘缓缓淌下,给了他一种好像大脑与握扳机的手指之间的神经突触已经达到完美的协调的感觉。他再不需要让大脑去指挥拔枪的动作,枪就好像已经长在了他手里。这是Miller教官曾经教过他的:循着脑海中的旋律,在行动之前预想每一个动作。
他还记得Miller教他如何去读一个人的眼睛:“每个人的想法都表现在他的双眼之中。”通常,Snake可以从一个人的眼中看出他是否正在说谎。然而,Ocelot的双眼一直保持着斜视,你很难看到在瞳孔后面掩藏着真实的眼白。很显然,Ocelot已经是一个无可媲美的枪手。
时间一分一秒地过去,Snake感觉到离对手出手时刻已经不远了。作为一种职业的本能,他完全知道应当在什么时候出手;但现在,时间就是一切。
Ocelot的眼光一闪。
现在!
Ocelot举起了枪。
Snake拔出手枪指向对手,同时向右跃出,一切对他来说都好像是在慢动作回放,但却都是在电光火石中完成的。而他已在双脚离地的同时完成了瞄准与射击的完美把戏。
Ocelot的左轮射出的子弹呼啸着从Snake的左肩上方飞过,如果他没有移动,那靶心就是他的脸。Snake扣动扳机,射出三发子弹,然后手臂着地,就势一滚,最后稳稳地停在了一个蹲伏的姿势。他射出的三发子弹划过离Bake不过寸余的空气,击中了Ocelot身后的金属架子,仅仅与他的长发差之毫厘。Ocelot晃了晃头,但是没有移动他的身体,看来他还是小小地吃了一惊。
Ocelot已经对着Snake两枪,Snake感受到了子弹擦着肋骨而过的热度。他向侧向一个闪躲,接着躲到了钢梁后面。他拆下消声器,那样他能更舒服地瞄准,然后闪出身子开了一枪。但是Ocelot早已藏了起来。
Snake想到了使用破片手雷,但是又打消了这个念头。因为飞溅的弹片很有可能触发Baker身后的C4,他不能冒这个险。他只能靠SOCOM和他的枪法来对付Ocelot。
“我喜欢无烟火药的味道,”Ocelot夸耀道,“火焰的味道,魔鬼的味道,真正根自土地的感受……这,才是胜利的味道!”
Snake看了一眼他右边那一片货箱。一盏工作灯将那边照得太亮了,于是Snake瞄准灯泡开了一枪,黑暗再次笼罩了这一片区域。他一个箭步跑向第一个箱子,躲过Ocelot的一发子弹,然后隐蔽了起来。他俯倒在地,匍匐到了下一个箱子,从那里他可以清楚地看见Ocelot站在那边,以DARPA局长为掩护。
Ocelot根本不知道Snake躲在哪里,但是这并不能停止他的虚张声势:“躲起来对你没什么好处,Snake!你出不去的,我敢保证我们的小把戏会很快召来一群基因士兵的。”
Snake必须把Ocelot从Baker身边弄开。一根沿着横梁的蒸气管横亘在他头正上方的天花板上。为了有一个更好的射姿,Snake趴在地上,将手与地面举呈四十五度角。他小心地瞄准以后扣下了扳机,在管子上开了个洞。一股灼热的蒸汽喷射在Revolver Ocelot一侧的脸颊上,他大叫一声跳向一边:“该死!”Snake再没有流弹的后顾之忧,便向Ocelot连开数枪。然而他再次躲到了一根柱子后边,Snake的子弹只是在他的风衣后摆上开了几个洞而已。
Baker恐惧地啜泣着。虽然灼热的蒸汽并不会喷到他,但是Snake也明白这个感觉不好受。他越能让Baker远离危险,他就越有取胜的资本。
Snake跑到了另一组箱子的后面,但是仍旧找不到合适的射击Ocelot的位置。这场较量注定将成为一场捉迷藏,除非他们之中任何一个犯下致命的错误,给与对手绝杀的机会。对Snake来说,最大的优势在于他能够射灭所有的灯光,用红外探测器来战胜对手。他扫视了一圈天花板,然后打爆了最近的一盏吊灯,Baker的周围立刻笼上了一篇黑暗。但是这个举动暴露了他的位置,Ocelot得以瞄准他的方向开了一枪,将他逼回了箱子后面。
“我已经很久没有经历过这样热血沸腾的对抗了。很不错,Snake,我很敬佩你,因为你和头儿有一样的代号。不过我的热身结束了,马上,我就要……”
突然响起了一阵充满痛苦的尖利叫喊。Snake原以为是Baker,但他突然意识到是Ocelot除了什么状况。他探出头去,发现Ocelot失去了右手,鲜血不断从前臂的断口喷涌而出。
“谁?!什么?啊……”
房间里还有别的人,Snake可以清楚地听到嗖嗖的剑刃划破空气的声音。那个人在Ocelot跃出寻找掩体时发动了攻击。剑刃砍中横梁,带下许多混凝土的碎屑。袭击者在房间里左右飞窜,他的身形时隐时现,像一只变色龙一般与周围环境融合在了一起。他的速度实在太快了。
隐形迷彩,他穿着隐形迷彩。
Revolver Ocelot转过身,捡起他没有血色的还握着Colt左轮的断手,紧紧捂着前臂上的断口逃了出去,只在地上留下一摊血水。Snake从货箱的背后走了出来,打算直面那个袭击者,但是他已经消失了。Snake跑向吓得昏了过去的Baker。
“醒醒,Baker。”Snake轻拍他的脸,让他恢复了神智。当Arms重工的总裁刚刚醒过来的瞬间,Snake就听到呼啸的剑风。他跃向一边,剑刃砍到了Baker身后的箱子上。Snake就势一个滚翻,躲开第二道挥砍,然后站稳身子,面对着他的敌人。
那个男子全身覆盖着使用了隐形材料的战斗服,打扮得就像一个忍者。他的头上戴着一个连视孔都没有的头盔,只有中央的一盏红色的感应器,好似希腊神话里的独眼巨人。他的右手握着一柄八世纪样式的长刀,通过一台超音速发动机,产生高频刀刃,使它能切开一些更为坚固的材质。
当忍者开始移动,Snake又注意到一些关于他的装束的事。他身穿的是最先进的战斗服,一套“强化骨骼”,这套装备常常为严重受伤的士兵使用。这套装备同样使用超音速发动机产生高频电压,通过侦测人体内的微电流操控战斗服利的传感器。
他是一个半机械人——用机械维持生存的人类。
一个机械忍者。
“你是谁?”Snake问道,“是和恐怖分子一伙的吗?”
“我和你一样,”忍者发出充满金属声感的电子音,“我也没有名字。”
“好吧,随便。我跟你可没什么过节。”
忍者突然陷入一阵振颤,用他那只空着的手捂住头,好像正经受着剧烈的头痛:“我好痛苦……”Snake可以感受到声音背后的痛苦折磨,强化骨骼里的人一定遇上过什么可怕的事。
突然机械忍者伸直身躯,挥舞起长刀,说道:“只有战火能够扫除痛苦,只有你能让我找回这种感觉!”

Hunter博士推开旋椅,站了起来。
“我去去就回,上校。”她对Campbell说。
上校看着她,发现她脸色苍白:“你还好吗,博士?”
“没什么,我只是想去下洗手间。”
“你看上去好像见了鬼。”
她不自然地笑了笑,走出了指挥室。她走下过道,推开卫生间的门,然后走了进去。她来到洗脸池前,用双手把住边沿防止自己摔倒。她看着镜中的自己,却没有发现自己眼中已显而易见的震惊。
难道说……
这不可能,或者说……
当她听见从强化骨骼之下传出的电子声,关于童年时的痛苦与后来的生活的许多回忆涌上心头。她想放声哭泣,但是又不允许自己如此。她现在必须保持镇静,为了自己也为了他……
他在影子摩西干什么?他的现状伤透了她的心。他将与那套东西一起度过余生,而这已经超出了她所能接受的范围。但更糟的是,他的心智已经完全丧失了。他还记得自己是谁吗?还记得自己与Solid Snake原来的关系吗?他还记得她吗?
他的出现使这次任务再起波澜。
不论如何,Hunter博士必须保持镇静,不能让别人看出什么来。
顶一下
(0)
0%
踩一下
(0)
0%
------分隔线----------------------------
最新评论 查看所有评论
发表评论 查看所有评论
请自觉遵守互联网相关的政策法规,严禁发布色情、暴力、反动的言论。
评价:
表情:
用户名: 密码: 验证码:
aaaaa