His nostrils flared. He thought (only briefly) on the supreme inconvenience of having one's head suddenly engulfed by rough sack-cloth. It wasn't how he'd been brought here but -- oh, Lord -- he'd been brought other places at other times. He felt an imagined phantom pain across his ribs and a twinging in his cheek, just below his missing eye.

"I was...recruited," Snake answered carefully. Recruitment was such a touchy topic for a man who saw no worthy existence outside of war. And he had not yet decided if the Boss would approve of any of this. Some nights (tonight) he felt like a coward for leaving the problems of the Cold War well behind him.