I do not own Time Crisis. The franchises and the original stories belong to Namco. I only own this fic and some of the characters. This is a rewrite of Time Crisis The Fall of which I deleted. Enjoy.

Time Crisis: The Fall RE

Chapter 1 casts:

Richard Miller (Time Crisis 1)

Wild Dog (Time Crisis series)

Kantaris (Time Crisis Project Titan from PS 1)

Wild Dog's bouncers

Wild Dog's PFs

Kantaris' body guards

Young bartender

Nevada Police Department

Chapter 1: Fallen Angel

It was just another weekend night at whore house known as the Pig Pen somewhere in Nevada. The house provided a stage that was swarmed by men, right at the center of the main hall where dancers performed their annual sensational dance to satisfy men's carnal lust for cheap women whose values could be negotiated with the green papers. A young bartender was tending a customer's drink behind the bar, whilst eyeing skeptically his customer from the corner of his eyes at the same time.

"Aren't you too old for this place, old man?"

The old man replied with a grunt. He checked his watch before accepting his liquor, then leveling it above his eyes seemingly to admire the alcoholic beverage. Turning out that the clear fluids secretly reflecting an elder with a shady eyewear walking into the house together with 2 muscular men, apparently they were the elder's bodyguards or something.

Right about the time.

The elder disappeared into the second floor whilst his bouncers guarded the stairs. The old man brought the cool acidic liquor into his mouth. A warm sensation steaming within his body upon the alcoholic beverage entered his throat, then disappeared when it travelled down to his stomach.

"Not as old as you think, kid." The old man placed 2 pieces of bills onto the table.

"Whatever, old man."

The old man walked from the bar. Despite time had brutalized the old man, he survived the cruelty known as aging. It was shown from his walking posture that still able to walk tall just like when he was younger. Though black circles formed underneath his eyes, they were beaming with spirit and determination like a child.

The old man was halted by one of the elder's guards upon reaching the stairs in a bouncer's way. The old man tried to reason. It did not work. Instead, he was pushed down to the cold concrete floor.

The old man slowly got onto his feet, brushing his pants and once again politely asked for a passage. If was not because of consent, the young bartender would not have hauled himself from behind of the bar to prevent those brutes from sending the old man to the ICU.

The young bartender was stopped on the middle of his track for he just witnessed something bizarre unfolded right in front of his eyes. When one of the men let loose of his fist, the old man caught intercepted his fist with an arm and caught him off by surprise. Before the owner of the fist could react, the old man launched a punch right onto his assailant's stomach.

"What the fu…"

The curse was utterly silenced when the old man clenched the mouth of the elder's second guard and drove his head to the wall behind him. The sudden powerful blunt impact coming from the back of the second guard's head instantly knocked him out cold. The old man let go of his hand and the limped body slumped down to the floor. The old man was about to leave the first guard in agony when the bartender called him.

"Watch out!"

The first guard pulled out a concealed gun. Before the firearm could be trained at the old man, the side-bottom of the old man's palm found it's place on the guard's neck. The guard dropped onto the floor and joined his friend with heads touching each other as though they were lovers.

The old man did not have time to admire his mess. Time was ticking. He brought his legs to descend to the dimly lit second floor where the person of his fixation disappeared somewhere in any of the multiple aligned doors on the hallways. The old man closed his eyes and focusing his hearings. He heard loud techno music coming from the first floor rocking the house as hard as the people in this floor moving their hips upward and downward with their genitals interconnected with their assigned female partners, whose programmed moaning only meant as a lip service to their customers' pathetic sexual performances.

The old man's attention shifted to one door at the end of the hall, which shared no similarities to the noises on this floor. The old man treaded his steps not wanting to raise suspicion toward whomever behind the door. He overheard a conversation. Though faint, the old man was ascertain that there were 2 people conversing inside the room. Knowing the elder very well, the old man instantly recognized the voice belonged to his sworn enemy was behind that door.

But who was the other voice then? It was a woman for sure, yet what was a woman doing with a world's renowned fugitive whom survived since the old man's prime time? Furthermore, his instinct told him that there were additional presences within, but not more than 5 in total. The old man guessed those additional presences, either the elder or the woman's bodyguard, were packing and better than the elder's grunts he took care of.

The old man moved his hand to feel the metal of his gun strapped on his waist. The icy piece had claimed lives more than his age and offered feeling of secure to him. Leveling the safety off, the old man shifted onto the left side of the entrance.

Cocking the gun, the old man's breathing became unusually slow…and calm before the bloody showdown unfolded before him. A flash of memory projected deep inside his mind where he saw a prominent battle hardened youngster from the U.S Marine snuck into a private island. His objective was simple: To be a hero and rescue the damsel in distress held captive by a group of militia kidnappers whom demanded a huge ransom for the beauty. Armed only by a covert operative pistol, the same gun which the old man was holding at the very moment, what had become a stealthy approach soon turned to be fiery dogfight in just a matter of seconds. It was an undeniable fact that one by all means could not survive against numbers.

But the youngster proved it otherwise. He kept moving- only stopping for a purpose to stabilize his breathing, adapting, and improvising with the situation to shoot his way out of the swarming private armies and ninjas.

Especially ninjas.

He eventually came to toe with the perpetrator. Their duel only lasted within a second. Because, when it began, instead of using gun, the perpetrator threw a knife at a frontal assault at the young operative. Of course, not only that the youngster was able to elude the knife easily, but also putting a bullet through that bloody idiot at the same time.

The fight with the perpetrator was like brushing the tip of an iceberg. And like any heroic tales, the youngster made his sworn enemy on the perpetrator's right hand, of whom none other than the elder that the old man was chasing at the current time.

It was the fiercest dogfight ever happened in the century. The adrenaline fight lasted from one man against another chasing each other to an open field with less protective objects from the wild bullets flying in the sky, then onto a cliff where the death welcomed it's jaw to the youngster in a form of a milita helicopter. Nevertheless, the youngster managed to shut death's jaw with multiple careful placed shots coming from his firearm through the chopper cockpit. With bullets found their places onto the pilot's body, the giant bird crashed onto the cliff, then a red cloud bloomed and tossing the youngster backwards.

The youngster was heavily injured from the explosion impact. He was weary and bloody. Yet he refused to let go of his gun nor giving into the excruciating pain as the gunfight was far from over until one of them was dead. Like any villain described in exaggerating stories, the perpetrator's right hand emerged from the chopper's remain with the damsel on his one arm. The other arm holding a portable explosive as the perpetrator's right hand was making his last desperate stand.

It happened so fast that the old man could not remember the details anymore. One thing for sure, the youngster somehow managed to crack a shot that sending the perpetrator's right hand flying back to the cliff, during the motion the youngster sprung his legs to catch the damsel and pull her into his safe embrace, following with another orange bloom knocking the heaven's door.

A happy ending waiting for both of the heroic youngster and the damsel he rescued from the villains. But he opted otherwise, for the youngster had a premonition- an instinct telling that the perpetrator's right hand was still alive, serving somebody who paid him and his private army handsomely for rotten causes somewhere out there and threatening the balance of this world. And it crossed his mind, if he couldn't fight his sworn enemy anymore, the youngster just had to train younger generations in the agency who were more agile, stronger and more brilliant in mind in comparison with this current old coot to battle his sworn enemy for the balance of this world. And the youngster/old man did it.

Nevertheless, no matter how many times his prized disciples successfully defeated his sworn enemy, he just sprung back to life like a cockroach.

The memory light faded, but it left the old man with the exact expression that the youngster inside his mind used to wear. The expression somehow rejuvenated the old man back to his younger self where he was fearless and flawless stone cold espionage agent. The old man inhaled and exhaled in strengthening his resolve.

Time to tie up the loose strings.

The old man had the element of surprise coming when the wooden door violently opened. The adrenaline rush flowing into his brain enabled the old man to mark exactly 4 people inside the room just from a glance: The elder he was chasing, an old woman and 2 suited guards standing behind her. Two shots coming from the old man's pistol, both sending the old woman's guards flying backward to their oblivion from crashing the window behind them.

Something did not right. The old man was missing another presence in his view. His instinct never wronged him, not even once. However, age did dull his senses. The old man was expecting less that a man would emerge from the side of his left eye in to restrain him. He fell to his enemy's advantage. Both men were nailed at the spot struggling for control in contest of strength.

The elder, of whom was equal with the old man, making his recovery the moment his arch enemy was fighting for control. He leveled his right arm, turning out to be mechanical. What seemingly to be fingers were locked in a particular position resembling a tip of a gatling gun.

The deathly machine carried by the elder simply possessed by 2 intentions: self defence and revenge. It also alarming the old man for the upcoming danger in the next moment with quick repetitive whizz. If the old man could not win in a contest of strength, then he just had to overcome his opponent in strategy.

The old man swept the grappler, knocking him off balance from the small but quick and effective low strike. The old man preventing the fall by single handedly grabbed his assailant by his collar and raised his assailant in front of him. Scream of agony of the old man's grappler, loud buzzes and clanking brasses from the elder's mechanical arm rocking the entire room. The old man witnessing cruelly his assailant in a closure; who was no older than the age of 20-s; when multiple reds bloomed within his body like fireworks, his eyes snapped opened wide, life instantly flickered.

The dead body remained useful as the old man's meaty protection until the buzzes ended. It was cold heartedly discarded with no honor given like garbage, of which blood seeped into the wooden floor. 5 loud bangs lead by the old man continued the deadly symphony found their places on the elder's machinery arm. Sparks of electricity running across the mechanical arm, a small but less harmful explosion followed. The elder was knocked off ground and writing in pain. The tolerated pain soon turned to be an excruciating agony when the old man injured the elder's left hand with another shot.

"Richard Miller, I presume? It's been a long…time since we last fought on that island…and isn't this…an…irony? From all of the…VSSE agents…that you trained to hunt me down…it's you, my sworn enemy, who pull the shot? Well what are you waiting for? Do it!"

"I am not." The old man known as Richard Miller switched the safety on. "I am here for another purpose to offer you a contract, Wild Dog."

"Bullshit! After the stunt…that you pulled, you…want to offer me a job?! Forget it! 'Sides, I…don't do with…VSSE!"

"I apologize for my rude entrance, but I can assure you that my appearance at this place is strictly for personal business."

Wild Dog narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

"I am all ears."

"I want to hire you and your PMC to take over VSSE's HQ, dispatched the director and my selective agents."

"You…crazy sunovabitch!" Wild Dog spat. "If you want to speed your death…don't drag…other people's…asses with you!"

"I thought you'd say that," Richard showed numerous pictures from his smart phone. "Then perhaps you'd reconsider your choice after seeing these."

"These…what in the God's name are these…things?"

"Well?"

"But still…I'll pass. Go find…another PFs or someone!"

"I am afraid no one can carry out my contract but your faction only. Payment for successful contract is all VSSE's assets, including their agents, weapons, vehicles, properties and money in all VSSE's bank account. You can make your dream PF with the reward. The upfront payment is 30 million US Dollar straight from my account."

"You stated…as if I…was going to accept…your contract. Likewise the risk…the upfront payment is…too much. Why…I should help you?"

"Consider this as redemption to your wronging in the past. And besides, time is ticking. In the next 25 days with an aggregate of 600 hours, we will be leaving this world for what we did in the past. Isn't it good if we can delay our time?"

"What…are you…talking about?"

"Put it simple, the director wants our head. As soon as those satellites were launched in space, they can shoot laser to eliminate whoever on VSSE's list without any need to send their agents onto the field."

"Unfortunately, I cannot…help you." Wild Dog addressed the old woman behind Richard.

Richard shifted his gaze toward her and he recognized the old woman. He remembered that she used to have pride in her hourglass figure and lascivious breasts that she showed off with minimum clothing. Time was indeed an epitome of merciless being. What used to be charm and beauty inside the woman's profound figure were sapped away in such period of time in replacement of old dried wrinkles.

"Kantaris." Richard regarded the old woman.

Their paths crossed when Richard was younger and tasked to rescue a kidnapped president's daughter in a grand hotel owned by Kantaris somewhere in French. A deranged personality of a smuggler lied beneath Kantaris' beauty and charm.

"She's the first one…to come at me…Richard. Too…bad for…you…unless you...figure out something for me…to speed up her contract."

"You bastard Wild Dog! This is not part of our agreement! Now hurry up and kill him!"

"Even after still being confined into…wheelchair, she can still…bitch. No wonder that…Kantaris Network's crews…left her already. Be smart Richard…We don't…need this hag. Unlike us…she is suffering…aging acceleration…and obsessed…to find the cure…to restore her beauty. I still…couldn't believe…how stupid I was…to sign a contract…to rob…. a beauty pharmaceutical company."

"I see. Well how about this Kantaris, hand over to me Wild Dog's contract and support my operation with your smuggling network. In return, I'll give you all VSSE's RnD assets including the secret formula which we injected into two of our newest agents. The formula provided them with superhuman speed and heightened their senses. If I am not mistaken, with a correct tweaks to the chemical structure, the formula could reverse aging and returns the youth that you are deliberately seeking. However, I cannot guarantee the full success rate of the formula but it's a good lead to your objective rather than raiding other pharmaceutical companies with no promises."

Seducing, alluring and tempting offer fortified by an acceptable rational explanation was immediately taken by the hag despite the risk. Beauty is a crime indeed. And such a lust radiating from Kantaris to restore what belonged was to relive her sin, even it meant to walk into the darkest valley without any light fear.

"All yours! Take it! Anything to restore my beauty!"

Too easy. Richard was suppressing a smile. "You heard the old woman, Wild Dog…"

"KANTARIS!" she snapped on the taboo "Don't call me old woman! I am still 35 for God's sake!"

"Then problem is solved. The two of you are working for me now and take orders from me, do I make myself clear?"

"Whatever."

"Just…one thing…Richard."

"What is it?"

"What…did you do…to make VSSE…your enemy? Aren't…you are their…guardian?"

"Not anymore since that day when different argumentation leads one has to root out another."

Police sirens cut through the night, streaks of blue and red lit the room through the crashed window. The 2 bodies were at last found by the authorities that began swarming the building.

"Right about time. Wild Dog, I need your team to get us out of here!"

"Consider it done…if only you…didn't shoot my left arm!"

"Goddamnit!" Richard approached Wild Dog "Where's your phone?"

"Inside my…left pocket! Hey! Take it easy Richard!"

"Who's the contact of your backup?!"

"Double u Fang! Quick, Richard!"

Three figures making their entrances into the room with guns trained at them. Their attire symbolized order along with their demeanor presence backed by the lethal armaments on their hands to enforce the symbol of their uniforms.

"Police! Don't…"

The phrase was never meant to be finished as a bullet gutted the law enforcer through his stomach. The deliberating shot with powerful impact sent the officer flying back to the hallway, leaving a deep mark where blood oozing, gently inviting death to claim it's soul. Surprise attack is always Richard Miller's specialty. The other officer was caught off by surprise from the quick shot the ex-agent pulled. Richard quickly seized the momentum by unleashing a shot that disarmed the second police from his gun.

Richard indicating his warning at a gunpoint. "Back off and take your friend from this building!"

The petrified officer obliged and he slowly retreated. Richard kept his deadly piece trained at him until he was disappeared from the rogue agent's sight while dragging his injured partner.

"Officer down! I repeat! Officer down!"

Part of him regretted for not delivering the deliberating shot to both of the law enforcers before any one of them called for backup. Richard reminded himself, although he went rogue, he was not in the same league of degenerates like Wild Dog whose shots are meant to kill. No. Richard was not. His rule of engagement is always meant to neutralize enemies, termination only when it is necessary.

More sirens coming from outside the window, the commandeering voices of authorities resulting into the shouts of panicking civilian climbing up to the second floor marking the situation that was getting worse every second. He had to commend Nevada's police force's speed in emergency response. Perhaps one day that Richard would be giving a medal to the person in charge, shaking his hand and taking a commemorative photo as well.

If only he was still on the right path.

"NPD! You are surrounded! Drop your weapons and surrender immediately!"

Not good.

"Wild Dog, what is your unit's ETA?!"

Gunshots rang from the basement. The popping noises were distinguished as machine guns in Richard's ears.

"All units, open fire!"
"Engaging!"
"Man down! I repeat! Man…AAAARGHHH!"
"Backup! We need backup, NOW!"

Lady Justice shed her tears upon the cries of agonizing defeat from her men reached her. An unsettling moment of tranquility seethed in. Richard heard sounds of boots clopping in quick, tactical unison filling the space to reveal a militia squad moving into their position. Richard readied his weapon to anticipate the new wave of intruders. Surprisingly, those men lowered their weapons upon Wild Dog's hand signal.

One of the armed men stepped inside and tending Wild Dog's injury. The others secured the perimeter while obediently waiting for a command like trained dogs.

"About time…eh, Richard?" Wild Dog snickered. "Get us all out of here, now!"

"Yes Sir!" Those men replied in unison.

Hope you could enjoy this little work as a substitute for Infinite Cry RE. It's been a long time since I want to write a fic to relive my childhood arcade game and I'd say Time Crisis 4 is the best. I'm going to write at least 3 chapters to see how this fic will be going. Feedback are extremely appreciated. Once again, my apologies to my Infinite Cry RE readers for putting my main fic on a hold. I'll see whether on mid November or early December I can update the story.

Qin W.X