I know this hasn't been updated in a very long time. What can I say? Life comes along and things get busy, the next thing you know years have gone by.

This fic has also been uploaded to . Someone there tried to steal my work from here, but when I left a little note pointing this out, the mods over there quickly clamped down on the plagerizer. I've uploaded everything that was here over there.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy.

Watcher's Council HQ, 2000

If anyone had told him, before today, that one day he would be hiding under his desk, Quinton Travers would have laughed at the man, before arranging things so he would be doing the most menial and degrading work for the rest of their lives.

However, as the alarms and muted sound of smashed windows reached him from his hiding place, it seemed like the only thing he could do. As the heavy reinforced door to his office crashed open, the sound of splintering wood rattling him down to his very bones, he found himself shaking in fear. Nobody had ever managed to assault the Watcher's Council directly. Not since they had first begun as a few old wise men guiding the earliest known Slayers, before civilization developed beyond a few roaming tribes hunting for scraps of food. It was impossible, and yet, it was happening.

Three sets of heavy boots thudded over the floor. The desk was suddenly ripped away, revealing him to the three who had invaded his office. The Slayer Faith, who looked extremely pissed off. An old man with a single eye, General John Hayter. And the boy, that damnable boy who was responsible for splitting the Slayer line in the first place, Xander Harris.

"Hello, Quinty." Faith said with an evil grin. "Your boys tried to kidnap me. I really don't appreciate that. It really wasn't smart, trying to nab me from a high-security training camp. Master Miller kicked their asses right into Hell."

Quinton climbed to his feet, calling upon all the dignity he could muster. If he was to die this day, he would go out proudly. "Faith, you have betrayed humanity by choosing to work with this, this, colonial ruffian!" He gestured to the man with the eyepatch, his single blue eye humorless.

Big Boss' voice was harsh and strong. "You manipulate and deceive, you mistreat and control countless people the world over with the strings of tradition, money and fear. I have seen countless like you in my life, and if I am a ruffian compared to this so-called 'prestigious organization,' then I'm proud to be a ruffian. At least I care about those who fight and die under me, unlike you." With a strength that belied his age, the one-eyed man picked Travers up by the front of his shirt and threw him against the bookshelves that lined his office. He fell to the floor, wincing in pain as his back protested against the rough treatment.

Xander chuckled. "This is a bad day for you, nancy-boy. Right now, governments all over the world are seizing the assets of the Watcher's Council. Undoubtably, quite a bit of it is going to be lost due to corrupt officials and assholes, but at least it won't be in the hands of your corrupt officials and assholes. When your precious traditional organization is gone, a few very good friends of mine are going to rebuild." He turned to Faith. "Think Giles can handle the workload?"

She grinned. "I'm sure he can, now that all the Hellmouths are sealed. I've got to send Mantis a thank-you six-pack."

Travers paled. "You're responsible. Do you have any idea what you've done!? You've utterly destroyed a millennia old balance upon which has rested human civilization! You've destroyed the entire human race in your short-sightedness!"

Big Boss snorted. "Balance? These children were preventing an apocalyptic event every year for the past four years, with only the tiniest amount of help from you. Do you think that they were prepared to have the entire planet on their shoulders? They could have stopped the apocalypse a thousand times over but if they were just a bit too slow, or picked up the information they needed a little too late, there goes the entire planet. You left children to keep lengthening the burning fuse on a bomb. I defused it."

Xander clapped his hands together. "So, who gets to do the honors? Faith, it's your life he screwed up the most, after sending Wussley to be your Watcher. He's pretty good now, but he was completely pathetic when he first showed up. Never thought I'd say this, but Deadboy has a good effect on some people."

Faith grinned. "I appreciate the thought, X. I'm going to enjoy this." She reached into her jacket, and Travers flinched. Only to turn confused when she pulled out a set of papers. She spoke with a vicious grin as she held them up to Travers' paling face. "By order of the Queen, the British Government, and twenty-three members of the United Nations, you are under arrest for high treason, grand larceny, extortion, bribery, mass-murder, kidnaping, assassination, aiding and abetting pedophiles, and tax evasion."

Xander let out a whistle, and a pair of police officers, one male one female, walked into the office, batons drawn. The rather attractive blonde lady cop grinned. "We're here to take you into custody, Mister Travers. Please. Resist."

Outer Heaven, 2001

The small fortress nation of Outer Heaven was built out of the African jungle. Tamed by fire and built in concrete, the place was bordered by a rushing river that provided the fresh water and hydroelectric power that kept Outer Heaven running. The river was fast and treacherous, which made it very hazardous to traverse in the dry season. In the wet season, it was simply downright deadly.

Thus, if anybody was watching, they would have been very surprised to see a solitary figure, dressed in a black scuba suit, carefully pull his way out of the river, using a set of climbing gear to make his way up the smooth concrete that made the hydroelectric plant. When he reached a safe vantage point, he took off the gear and threw it into the river, shedding the scuba suit and changing into a set of jungle camouflage.

Throwing the suit into the river, he let out a few coughs, shivering in the night air. Wiping his forehead, he pulled his radio out of the protective plastic bag, and fitted it to his ear. Clicking onto the correct frequency, he spoke. "This is Solid Snake, I've made landfall."

Big Boss' voice floated over the earpiece. "I read you, Snake. Remember your mission priorities. Find Gray Fox and investigate Outer Heaven. The CIA needs answers, and it's our responsibility to find them. How was the swim?"

Xander shook his head, grimacing. "Lousy. Feel like I've run a marathon already. Hopefully it won't take me all that long to get some information. The sooner I find Fox, the sooner I can get the hell out of this stinking jungle." He snorted, trying to clear his sinuses. "Mind telling me just why I don't even have a weapon? Kind of cruel, sending me in somewhere without any guns."

Big Boss chuckled. "Don't complain too much, kid. You can't leave any trace of your presence. FOX-HOUND doesn't exist. It's the only thing that protects us from causing international incidents. Our agents use only what's on hand so we don't leave any evidence of who sent them." His voice turned serious. "You'd better get underway. I'll be listening. Big Boss out."

Xander sighed. "Damn it, Riley. You just had to pick a sticky, humid, back-asswards place to get lost in, didn't you?" Rising to his feet, he made his way through the churning hydro plant, taking the time he needed to make sure he wasn't seen. Once he finally made his way outside, the sounds of the jungle greeted him. He could barely see beyond the lights of the compound, the pitch-black jungle far more hazardous than any guard.

The harsh words of Russian reached his ears. Unfortunately, Xander hadn't learned how to speak Russian. He carefully looked around until he saw the source of the words, a pair of guards talking by a set of trucks. It seemed like quite a heated argument, the pair getting more and more angry at each other with every passing moment. Finally, one stomped up into the nearest truck. With a rumble, it turned on and went off into the jungle at a dangerous speed, especially in the darkness.

The other guard muttered angrily, walking toward the compound. Carefully slinking up behind him, Xander grabbed him, silencing the man's startled shout before it could be voiced. Increasing the pressure steadily, Xander pulled the man's head to the side, hard, and heard the tell-tale snap of the neck breaking. The struggles ceased, and Xander gently lowered the body to the ground. He picked up the guard's AK-47, and the USP handgun that was on the guard's belt.

Feeling better now that he was armed, Xander snuck toward the main compound that made up Outer Heaven.

The helicopter came down, guided by the landing lights of Outer Heaven's small heliport. Once it was safely on the ground, the door slid open, and Big Boss hopped out with the grace of a man forty years younger. Rubbing his eyepatch, he turned as the other passenger left the chopper.

He stood tall, at least six inches over Big Boss himself. His hair was long, black as night, and his skin was pale. He smirked, his voice chilling and cold. "You wish for me to find this boy in your little playground."

Big Boss nodded. "Find him, capture him. I want him alive, Vamp. It's imperative he stays alive. If you kill him, this place is going to be up to its ears in bombs and soldiers not on our payroll.. That would be quite inconvenient."

"No doubt." Vamp drawled. "Very well. You know my requirements, and my payment. It seems strange that you would hire me to take care of a single soldier."

Big Boss shrugged. "He's FOX-HOUND. He may be a rookie, but don't underestimate him."

Riley rested his head against the wall of his cell. He shivered, rubbing his hands together. This was too similar to the sensory depravation he had suffered when he was younger, before Big Boss found him. At least the guards talked with him now and then, and he could actually taste the food he was given, as horrible as it was. He made another scratch on the wall with a small stone. Time was hard to measure, as the cell didn't have a window to the outside. He had slept and awoken six times since he was thrown in here, so he hoped it was about six days or so.

His capture was an embarrassment. He'd airdropped into the jungle and made his way to the compound. After infiltrating the place, he'd gathered information, files, notes, ledgers, very important things that needed to get back to friendly hands. When he'd hitched a ride in the back of a supply truck, to reach the extraction point, he found himself growing sleepy. Then he woke up in this dank, dark cell, with a pounding headache, indicating he'd been tranquilized. Obviously, they knew he was there, but how?

The rustling of keys in a lock drew his attention to the door. He quickly moved to the corner behind the door, preparing himself to fight for freedom. The door swung open with a creak, and he could hear a whispered voice. "Fox, you alive in there?"

He blinked. "Xan..what the hell are you doing here? Where's the guard?"

Xander chuckled. "Saving your boyscout butt, Fox. The guard has come down with a bad case of death. And it's Snake, Solid Snake. Sounds stupid to me, but that's what the boss assigned, and I wasn't about to argue."

Riley shook his head, grimacing. "You're the newest member of FOX-HOUND, why did Big Boss send you? Not that I'm complaining, but there are more experienced people he could have sent."

Xander shrugged. "Apparently, I was the only one available on short notice. Besides, Shadow Huntress is off on that demon-killing mission in South America. Finding those Grolox nests is a pain in the ass."

Riley sighed. "Alright. Listen up, Snake. Outer Heaven's a nasty piece of work. The leader of the place abducted a scientist about three years ago, a Doctor Petrovich Madnar. They're forcing him to develop a new kind of weapons system. This thing is the stuff of nightmares, Snake."

Xander frowned. "What? What is this thing, Fox?"

"Code name, Metal Gear."

Stargate Command, 2006

"So what do you think this is about?" Jack O'Neill asked, settling in for the briefing. SG teams one through eight were assembled in the auditorium, the other six off-world at the moment. It was normally used to brief pilots on missions, but at this point it was the only room that could handle the sheer number of people the SGC required for this mission briefing.

Sam just shrugged. "I'm not sure, but it's got to be quite serious with all the SG teams here. It's more than a bit strange for our recon to P3X-920 to be scrubbed without any indication why."

General Hammond stepped to the front of the room, his face grave. "Good morning, people. Unfortunately, as of this moment I am scrubbing all off-world missions. We have a very big problem here at home." Picking up the remote for the projector, he turned it on and it flipped to the first frame. "Approximately two hours ago, a heavily-armed group seized control of Nellis Air Force Base in Nevada, or Area 51. They are the Next-Generation Special Forces, and they're being led by members of a group of elites. Known as FOX-HOUND."

Snake sat ramrod straight at that, his face paling.

Carter gaped for a minute, then she collected herself and asked. "How could anybody manage to take over the most highly guarded base in America? Shouldn't each and every one of those soldiers been cleared by psych analysts before getting anywhere near Area 51?"

Hammond nodded. "We're not entirely sure. We have a few theories, based on their demands. They're demanding we turn over to them all of the most-up-to-date research on gene therapy techniques, twenty billion dollars, and a person's remains."

Jack couldn't help but speak up. "They've attacked Area 51 to grab cash and a body? That doesn't make any sense."

Hammond shook his head. "Nevertheless, that is the situation. They've stated that if we don't give into their demands within twenty-four hours, they'll launch a nuclear weapon."

Ferretti spoke then, puzzled. "Why would Area 51 be holding a nuke? We've got plenty of alien technology there, it seems a bit mundane for them to be threatening to use a nuke to make us give in."

Hammond simply clicked a button on the remote, the picture overhead changing. The new image displayed a monster of a machine, built like a tank, a massive rail gun on one arm. "Ladies and gentlemen, this is Metal Gear. The concept was first developed over forty years ago, but the technology wasn't available to make a bipedal machine work properly until about ten years ago. Metal Gear is designed to be a walking tank, capable of crossing over any terrain. The rail gun is designed to launch a nuclear device at a target out in the solar system, and thus capable of repelling attacks by the Gould, especially with enhanced warheads available."

Snake groaned lowly, rubbing his forehead.

Hammond went on. "The trial was to launch a standard nuke at an asteroid astronomers managed to spot in orbit of Jupiter. However, it's capable of striking any place on the Earth from anywhere on the Earth. We can't afford to leave the base in terrorist hands, and we can't destroy it either. Much of the technology and scientists at Area 51 is our best hope for finding a defense against the Gould."

Faith spoke up then. "So we need to get in there and take control of the base. What's the plan, General?"

"SG teams one through ten are to set a perimeter around the base. We will then send in four eight-man teams to seize control of the Area 51's most important assets. The communications tower, the command center, the research lab and Metal Gear's hangar. Highest priority is on the last one, if we can take Metal Gear out of their hands, they'll be left without any recourse but surrender. The research lab is the second priority. It sounds cold, but the hostages being held inside are less important, overall, than stopping the nuclear launch. That said, we need to do the best we can to rescue them."

The picture changed again, showing an old balding man, of quite short stature. "The first VIP on the base is Kenneth Baker. He's the president of Armstech, which was recently bought out by the government for our top-secret contracts. He is unaware of the Stargate program, but his people have been tasked with reverse-engineering some of the technology we've brought back through the gate, as well as designing Metal Gear." Hammond said.

The photo changed to a tall black man, the small amount of hair on his head white with age. "The second is the DARPA Chief Donald Anderson. He has been fully briefed on the Stargate program and is the head of the Metal Gear project. He's the one who dug up the concept from old case files and researched it, trying to find out of it could be adapted to defend Earth against the Gould."

Snake spoke then, his face grave. "Do we have information on the members of FOX-HOUND?"

Hammond nodded. There was a click, and the picture changed, showing six people standing closely together. "Psycho Mantis, I've been told he has powerful psychic abilities. Sniper Wolf, the world's foremost expert in sniping. Decoy Octopus, a master of disguise. Vulcan Raven, a giant with extreme tolerance to cold and heat. And Revolver Ocelot, a specialist in interrogation, and formidable gunfighter."

Snake snorted. "Specialist in torture, you mean."

Hammond ignored the interruption. "In charge of them is FOX-HOUND's squad leader, Liquid Snake."

Snake paled as he took in the photo of the terrorist leader. The features on the man were older, but there was no doubt about it. Liquid Snake and Major Harris looked very much alike.

Jack turned to Snake."Care to explain?"

The cargo plane rumbled as it delivered the SG teams to Nevada. Snake talked with SG-1 along the way, his roughened voice hard to hear. "I left FOX-HOUND behind a long time ago. That's why I didn't tell any of you. Since the fall of Zanzibar, I just wanted to be left alone, right up until Campbell showed up at my place and asked me to join the Stargate program."

Jack frowned, sympathy in his voice. "I get that. I really do. It's not a good way to go, but I get it. I've been there, and it was the worst time of my life."

Teal'c rose an eyebrow. "I am unfamiliar with your story, MajorHarris, however your skill is formidable. Do you know what we might expect from the members of your unit we will be facing?"

Snake shook his head. "The only one I know is Ocelot. The rest were recruited after I left. All I know for sure is that Ocelot is a seriously dangerous sonofabitch. As for Liquid, I don't know why he looks like me. But I'm sure as hell going to find out."

The intercom buzzed. "We'll be landing in ten minutes. Secure yourselves." The pilot's voice came over, crackling with static.

"Damn hunk of junk." Jack complained.

Sam wryly smiled. "At least it works, sir."

Outer Heaven, 2001

Xander swore softly. "Something like that, in the hands of a military nation? Holy fuck, if these guys want to start a war, all they have to do is march this thing into one country and fire it into another. Goodbye, shaky peace, hello Armageddon."

Riley nodded. "Listen, we've got to destroy this thing. I managed to find out it wasn't completed, and won't be for a few more months. They still need the doc, so I'll nab him and get the hell out of here. You sabotage Metal Gear. I know the hanger is at the base of this building, but security is really high down there. I'd take care of that, but I'm not in good shape right now." He took off his pale green bandana and handed it to Xander. "Here. You'll probably need it more than I will right now."

Xander nodded. "Right. Before I forget, here." He handed Riley the fallen guard's radio. "You know the frequency. Give me a shout if anything happens."

The pair of agents set off on their tasks. After quickly tying the bandana around his head, Xander slipped around the guards patrolling the area, making his way for the elevator. His radio beeped when he neared it, so he moved into an alcove and slid down, minimizing his profile. He opened the frequency. "This is Solid Snake."

"Big Boss here. I managed to make contact with a resistance member, one Joseph Schneider. He's acquired a set of card keys you'll need to move around the base, more specifically, the armory. Unless you feel like trying to dismantle Metal Gear with your bare hands, I suggest you get in contact with him."

Xander nodded. "Right. Where can I find him?"

"He'll be in the building north of the main building. That's a water treatment plant. You'd better be careful on the way in, the sun's coming up and security is going to be quite a bit tighter."

Xander sighed to himself. "Understood, on my way."

He rose to his feet and went out, heading carefully along the corridors. Unfortunately, he slipped up when a guard came around the corner. "Halt!" The shout came in broken English, making him jump.

Instinctively, he started running as quickly as he could, swearing at himself the whole way. He could hear the stomping of feet, more soldiers joining in on the chase. Through five rooms they went, only the rigorous stamina training he'd undergone keeping him from being winded as they chased him relentlessly. Reaching a storeroom, he was about to head outside when he heard excited voices approaching from there. Skidding back a bit, he knew he only had seconds to find a place to hide.

Twenty seconds later, ten soldiers burst into the room, AK-47's at the ready. They quickly conferred, and when they saw the door to the outside was slightly ajar, they ran through it, excited words in Russian being shouted. It was a full minute later that there was some movement, as a cardboard box lifted up, revealing the amazed face of Xander Harris. As he rose to his feet, he looked down at the box, then he picked it up and kissed it.

There was only one thing he could say. "I can't believe that worked!"

It was a couple of hours later when Xander managed to reach the rendezvous point. He slipped his way into the treatment plant, his soft-soled boots making only the faintest of noise on the concrete floors. The humming of machines droned loud in his ears. Thus, he nearly missed the faint screams and gunfire coming from the room up ahead.

He drew his AK and threw the door open, revealing a scene from a nightmare. There were three men dressed in the rags of a rag-tag militia, firing wildly into the shadows up above. There was brown blur, and one man fell to the ground screaming, clutching at the gaping wound in his chest. The other two panicked and shot around them in all directions, crying in fear as their guns clicked empty.

At that moment, something moved. The pale figure dropped from the ceiling, knife in hand, which cut open the man on the left from throat to belly, the hideous wound incapacitating him immediately. With a scream, the last man turned and ran in fear, only to be cut short as a knife flew with deadly accuracy into the back of his neck.

Rising to his feet with a smirk, the man licked blood off the knife he held in his fist. "Three today..." He turned and faced Xander, his cold eyes menacing. "Or perhaps four? You are the agent I have been expecting, one Solid Snake, yes?" With slow, deliberate movements, he pulled his knife back against his chest, carefully slicing three lines across it.

"What the fuck are you?" Xander hissed, aiming his weapon right at the man's torso. The man moved far too quickly for a headshot to be reliable, and hopefully the AK would do enough damage to slow the creature down.

The pale man took a bow, smiling without humor. "They call me Vamp. I'm not about to disagree with the nickname. And you are the little FOX-HOUND agent that's come to this humble little Outer Heaven." The smile dropped from his features, a glint of malice appearing in Vamp's eyes. "I'm afraid I cant allow you to progress any further, boy. Your interference could prove to be quite...annoying, if you continued your mission."

Xander grit his teeth. "Just one more dead vampire to me, pal." He squeezed the trigger, spraying bullets at the pale man. Vamp simply jerked and twisted, the deadly projectiles hitting nothing but air, his inhumanly fast movements keeping him out of harm's way. When the clip was empty, Xander's eyes widened as Vamp stood there smirking, completely unharmed. "Well, shit."

With a blur, Vamp came toward Xander, his fist slamming the younger man to the ground in a single blow. With a cough, Xander rolled aside, just as Vamp's boot came down where his chest had been a moment earlier. Taking advantage, Xander grabbed the outstretched limb and twisted as hard as he could, spilling Vamp onto the floor beside him. With a hard kick in the would-be-vampire's side, Xander rolled to his feet, his hands up in a classic defensive CQC position.

The next few blows came in a blur, and Xander was completely on the defensive. Vamp's fists came inhumanly fast, and it was only the highly developed defensive skill of CQC that kept Xander from being pummeled into a bloody pulp within ten seconds. In the end, a kick to his stomach sent the young agent sprawling, gasping for air. Vamp's fist wrapped around his throat, the pale man smiling evilly as he began to choke Xander.

Desperately, Xander pulled his handgun from its holster, and before Vamp could react, it was against his forehead. A single pull of the trigger later, and Vamp fell to the floor beside Xander, staring sightlessly at the ceiling.

Taking a deep, gasping breath, Xander got to his feet. With a wince, he rubbed his stomach, putting his handgun back into his holster. He quickly searched the bodies, and found the keycards he needed in the pockets of the man who had died first.

He thumbed his radio, quietly speaking as he walked. "This is Solid Snake. I reached the rendezvous, but the resistance guys were ambushed. Some freak calling himself Vamp got them."

Big Boss sighed over the line. "That's not good. Did you get the keys?"

Xander nodded to himself. "Yeah, I got them. I'm on my way back to the main building now, I'll just have to get to the armory, get loaded up, then go after Metal Gear. Fox is going after Doctor Madnar right now."

"Understood. Stay on your toes, Snake."

A few minutes after Xander left the room of the massacre, Vamp let out a slow breath. With a harsh growl, he slowly lifted himself up into a seated position, wincing as he touched the bullethole in the center of his forehead. The wound was slowly closing, but he had no doubt it would leave a scar. Not to mention the screaming headache he had at the moment. Having your brains scrambled, then reassembled, would do that to a person. Though most people who were shot in the head would be lucky to have a headache at all.

The hunger grew inside him once more. Repairing his brain had taken quite a bit of the hellish energies that animated him, and it required unholy replenishment. Turning to the corpses of his victims, he slit a dead throat and began to feed.