This chapter takes place the first time we meet Quiet, after "Mission 11: Cloaked in Silence."

She had failed her mission to kill Big Boss-again. She lay on the ground, exhausted and in pain, numbed by tranquilizer darts, thoroughly humiliated. She, one of the top operatives of Cipher's elite strike force, XOF, had failed the same mission twice in a row. She hadn't failed since she was a rookie nearly a decade ago. Who was this unsurpassable soldier? She had underestimated him; she had lost her second chance to avenge her comrades whom his old organization-that unprincipled band of mercenaries-had killed or kidnapped. It was the only reason she had joined Cipher, her driving force: revenge.

She no longer had the resolve to execute Plan B, which was to let herself be taken to the enemy's base and infect as many as possible with her vocal cord parasites, which Skull Face had said might kill her. The parasites would mature and mate once she spoke and be spread through saliva droplets in the air. Their larvae would feed on what was left of her lungs-but she didn't know what that would entail, since she no longer used them.

Skull Face had offered her a mutated form of "The One That Covers" that still let her retain her mind (a reward for her effort, he had called it), with the caveat that she become his first test host for the English strain of the vocal cord parasite. A failsafe in the case of her capture, an affliction that would never again let her communicate with members of an American culture he abhorred.

The price she paid to live again had been his punishment for her failure. But at the time, how could she-mutilated beyond recognition by burns, blind and delirious, consumed by shame and vengeance-have refused? Too late had she realized the extent of his cruelty. That organization was no better than any other. She had been naive, and now she was exiled. Whether or not she completed her mission, she couldn't see it any other way: she had been thrown away and condemned to die.

She heard her subduer walk near and felt his shadow land on her body. She heard him draw his weapon.

The legendary hero would dispose of her and live on forever. She had come this far and gone through so much only to fail. She was useless to everyone now. She had no place to which to return. She was worthless. With her numb and heavy arm, she clutched the handgun at her belt and struggled to bring it to her head.

As she felt him pulling away the gun, she opened her eyes in surprise, taking in everything by using The One That Covers. She was too weak to maintain the concentration or to do anything other than cringe as he confiscated her weapon. She swatted at him as he put handcuffs on her, then gave up, deciding to wait for his sedatives and paralytic agents to wear off.

He was probably going to take her to his base to be interrogated, so she still had a chance to kill him or everyone there. But why would he spare her? It wasn't the first time she had personally attempted to take his life. Wasn't he angry or triumphant? He didn't even try to touch her inappropriately like quite a few of the Soviets she had picked off had done. She hadn't seen anything in his face other than concentration. She didn't understand it. He placed her carefully on the bench in the helicopter so she wouldn't be lying on the floor, and after checking her handcuffs, covered her with a jacket to preserve her modesty, which confused her further. After she threw the jacket at his face, opened the door, and disappeared, he only managed to look annoyed after searching for her.

Her plan had been to feign escape from the helicopter and then to infiltrate the base in stealth, but the attacking fighter jet ruined that. Had it been sent by Cipher? If so, it only proved they were willing to sacrifice her if it meant the death of Big Boss. She would not let herself end this way.

Their pilot evaded frantically as the LGM homed towards them, and she watched her captor get thrown onto the floor as he reached for the handles of the machine gun mounted to the helicopter.

He tried and failed again. He was too late; the LGM would hit its target.

She saw a man who was about to die doing his job. A soldier, just like her, who couldn't change his fate.

He had spared her life and then stopped her from shooting herself. At the very least, she owed him. Then they would be even and she could have her revenge.

She grabbed the handles and opened fire, causing the missile to explode in the air just before it reached them. She turned to Big Boss as he looked at her, surprised at her reappearance and her actions. Then he put his hand on her shoulder as if to say, I got this; you do what you're best at. She picked up his sniper rifle leaning against the wall and they both nodded. Let's do this.

After the fighter jet crashed into the ocean, the inside of its cockpit sprayed with its pilot's blood, Big Boss gave her a look of admiration. But as she held onto his rifle, ejecting the shell casings and reloading, she felt him watching her cautiously. He was looking specifically at the handcuffs dangling from one wrist, perplexed as to how she had removed one. She handed back the rifle and put the handcuff back on, then turned away from him.

They had been expecting her as the helicopter arrived at the base. Big Boss looked alarmed and offended when he noticed a laser sight aimed at his chest, before he realized someone had arranged these escorts to prevent her from going anywhere unsupervised. She peeked out and as soon as she realized she was face to face with a machine gun in another helicopter, the Boss held out his arm, fingers outstretched, to tell her to stay back, and shielded her with his body.

"No way is she setting foot on this base," called a man who she recognized from the files as Kazuhira Miller. "Boss, she's with Cipher!"

Her eyes snapped up, startled. How had he known? Did he know she had been at the hospital at Cyprus? From the doorway, Big Boss met her wide eyes with his one, and then he sat down, gazing outside. He didn't care where she had come from. But Miller was wrong.

I am not with Cipher. I am doing this for myself now.

She stepped past the man beside her and gave him a small smile that said thank you. She jumped out of the helicopter and sensed him rush to the doorway in alarm.

She wanted these soldiers to fear her, and played hide-and-seek with them. She looked around at them, showing them what she was capable of, taunting them with her confidence. Miller and the man who must have been Ocelot argued over what to do with her.

Right now, she could use the words that killed. It was a good time. Everyone important was gathered here. She could simply kill the ones that were wearing baklavas over their mouths, and the men with uncovered faces would die later if they didn't die here. Even if they seemed better trained than most soldiers she had met, she could probably take them all, screaming into their faces as she murdered them.

"Put her in the cell," called Big Boss, pushing down the rifles aimed at her. He stood beside her. A couple of the men motioned for her to get moving.

She stood still. She opened her lips to say something-anything. What to say? Just yell something! This was her chance for retribution! But the words wouldn't come, and her brows knit together in anguish. She stared at Ocelot and opened her lips again, hesitating.

"What are you waiting for? Move!" he demanded. She closed her mouth and glared.

Big Boss put a hand on her shoulder.

She couldn't do it. What was wrong with her? What had happened? She remained still until he gave her a slight nudge with his hand. She turned to look at him. Instead of issuing a command, he simply looked at her.

I trusted you. You can trust me. It will be okay.

She turned and headed for the cell.

Days went by. Before they asked her questions, they tried to force her to wear their uniform. As two soldiers restrained her, she had punched another who had managed to get pants up her legs. She heard later that his lung had been punctured by the broken ribs. After that, only the most senior soldiers were allowed to go near her or guard her cell, and Ocelot asked the medical staff to observe her body and figure out what she was capable of. He seemed a reasonable man compared to Miller, who never even used their codename for her and treated her like a monster.

Sometimes she focused her hearing and heard Ocelot in an office on another platform recording notes on cassette tapes meant for the Boss. He was right that the lock on her cell door was a joke, and he was right that she was still conflicted. They asked her questions, but she remained mute. They brought translators and gave her pen and paper, but she didn't respond. Miller yelled at Ocelot to use his truth serum, and Ocelot refused. What would they do with her once she told them everything, or once they got tired of her behavior? Surely they wouldn't execute her? They wouldn't gain anything if she told them how she had ended up here, or why she had joined Cipher. They already knew Skull Face lead their most powerful enemy. And she would gain nothing. So she told them nothing, and simply followed all other orders and let them run their tests.

She often felt betrayed and at a loss, and some days she just lay listlessly on the cot. She wanted to avenge her comrades' deaths and get back at Skull Face for abandoning her. But she didn't want to hurt the Boss. He couldn't have been the one who killed her unit so brutally, right? Maybe he didn't deserve it. She couldn't decide anymore.

The Diamond Dogs did not treat her poorly even though she was a prisoner. It was a severe contrast to how Cipher treated their prisoners. She had often witnessed experiments and torture that resulted in death. She had seen prisoners turned into mindless Skulls, forced to fight their former allies. She had heard about men, women, and children being raped and forced to rape each other. And in her journey for vengeance, she had turned a blind eye to it all.

Perhaps enemies were relative, changing with the times.

Big Boss had stopped by her cell once for Ocelot to give him a summary of their findings on her. He had been concerned when the parasites in her skin had clamored to the surface to drink the shower water, causing her to freeze in place. Ocelot had suggested he take her out on a mission. She knew it was partly to test her allegiance, but she would not make them distrust her now. She didn't mind listening to the radio all day; it was a welcome break from years of constant fighting, but she did miss being outside. She missed fighting. But most of all, she wanted to learn more about the Boss who was a mystery. She finally admitted to herself that he was handsome-but it was more than that which drew her to him.

She focused her hearing and listened for him sometimes, but other than his irregular sleep schedule, he seemed to have the most mundane routine. When he wasn't out on missions, he drove around checking on all the platforms and trained with recruits he ran into. He managed Mother Base using the iDroid device. He played with the wolf that Ocelot was raising. He ate in the mess hall with everyone else, and ate a lot. He listened to cassette tapes. He didn't do anything fun, unless he thought target practice was fun. He never complained, even when he returned from missions with injuries. He rarely spoke. He slept alone in his quarters and was visited by nightmares half the time, but he never vocalized their contents. Sometimes, when exhausted, he napped in random places, such as on the edge of a platform above the sea, and she would feel calm listening to his steady breathing.

"She seems so like you," Ocelot had said to the Boss.

She had a dream that night.

She was in the hospital in Cyprus to assassinate Big Boss. She'd choked the nurse. She was choking the doctor, the skin of his neck splitting open under the force of her wire.

"Ahab," as she had heard the doctor call Big Boss, was scrawny and scarred, with disheveled brown hair and beard. Black shrapnel poked out through bandages around his head, and his right eye was cloudy with cataracts, probably blind. She could hear his heart rate monitor beeping so rapidly that she thought he might die of a heart attack before she could kill him. He scraped the sheets with the little hook on his prosthetic arm, attempting to back away. He gaped at her, and with a crash was shoved off his cot onto the floor as the struggling doctor kicked wildly.

Someone called to ask if she had completed her task yet so they could clean up any evidence pointing to Cipher. Not yet, she answered, because the patient in the bed next to her target's had seen her face. Why, yes, of course she could kill that patient, too. Big Boss was the priority, though. The other patient with a completely bandaged head was merely lying there staring, open-mouthed, apparently unable to move.

She turned around and stepped toward "Ahab," holding her knife as a threat. He was reaching for the gun, but he didn't even have the strength to crawl towards it. He couldn't even prop himself up on the prosthetic arm. He was gasping in despair.

This was supposed to be the legendary Big Boss? This thing on the floor was pathetic.

She picked up the gun and aimed it between his terrified blue eyes. This is for what you and your MSF scum did to my comrades, she thought, and then-

She suddenly woke with a shock, clenching the sheets of her cot beneath her fists, staring into the moonlight between the grates of her ceiling.

"Hey! You were spasming. Should I call a medic?" called the soldier on guard near the stairwell. She shook her head.

Her whole body was tense. She slowly let her limbs relax after convincing herself they were working, neither burned nor atrophied with years of disuse. Her chest hurt. She felt like crying.

I was about to slaughter an entirely helpless, decent human being.

She would never hurt the Boss again. She would not speak the words that killed. She would not utter a word of any language; silence would be her atonement. She would even think in her mother tongue, Russian, and attempt to learn more Navajo, in case she unconsciously spoke English aloud.

It had been so long; she had to move on. The old wound would never fully heal, and she knew she would hold onto it, but she had to try. Revenge was only a confession of pain, causing a consuming hatred in everyone it affected.

I saw him as pathetic, but minutes later I was begging a tyrant for my life. We were both technically dead. We lost almost everything. He lost nine years of his life, yet he still has the capacity to forgive. He has comrades and followers, but he is as alone as I am. I can begin to understand his burden and his pain.

He is just like me. A soldier just like me. A human just like me.