Disclaimer: I don't own Metal Gear Solid (or anything Metal Gear for that matter,) and I don't own Max Steel. My profit from this is an exact figure of zero dollars.

Metal Gears, Nanoprobes, and a Word from our Sponsor

Chapter III
 by Alhazred
madarab20@hotmail.com
http://www.rockettownonline.com/~alhazred

All things considered, Berto thought he'd accomplished a lot. It wasn't easy to do much, he rationalized, with a broken ankle and your hands cuffed behind your back, but Snake had made the mistake of putting him to Max's left on the floor. From there, it was a simple matter to stretch over and engage the tracker on his Biolink. Snake hadn't handcuffed Max, apparently curious as to why he had yet to wake up from the tranquilizer. That worried Berto, it most certainly meant he was dangerously low on T-Juice if the Max Probes couldn't fight off a simple sedative.

It wasn't as simple to do it without being seen. Being a legend, Snake knew the most complicated rules of the job if he knew the simplest; one of the simplest being to always keep an eye on your prisoners, even if not looking it.

Snake was good at the not-looking-it part, but Berto had been around Max long enough to notice these things. So he'd waited patiently and silently, not saying a word while Snake sat on the floor cross-legged several feet away, holding an icepack to his head, a laptop sitting open in front of him. He was tapping at keys every now and then, apparently going over what little he understood of the data they'd stolen from the old N-Tek systems before Otacon could break down all of it into Layman's Terms.

The tension could be sliced with a knife; Snake may not have known Josh and Max were the same person, but he most certainly recognized Berto himself. Still, no one said a word... until Berto saw his opportunity.

"Hey Otacon," Snake had said, his eyes not moving, "what's 'Transphasic Energy?'"

"Trans-phasic?" the scientist repeated, "as far as I know, just a theory... if that much..."

Berto let out an overly loud snicker, something that earned him a look from Snake. "What's it supposed to do?"

"Well, the theory is," Otacon thought about it, "if it worked, it'd be some funky ultra-clean power source for small electronics, you know, like a battery, but a transphasic battery would last a lot longer then the usual stuff. You could use it to power full scale nano-machines, power is the factor that limits ours to simple things like communication. Real revolutionary stuff, but it's always been a crock."

When Berto chuckled that time, Snake raised an eyebrow and turned back to glance at Otacon. Otacon, in turn, simply turned his head a little, because he was too busy piloting, and Berto hadn't wasted the opportunity to click that little button.

Of course, the only one that would see it was Kat, and that was if she was in the van. And considering they were currently flying, probably over the outskirts of Del Oro Bay, the possibility that she could bail them out was a small one.

With that thought on his mind, Berto looked back to his stricken comrade. Max's breathing had become shallower in the past few minutes, and Berto guessed he only had a few minutes of energy left, at most. The cat was going to have to come out of the bag.

"Well hello, what's this," Snake's eyes lit up. He tossed the icepack away and grabbed a cigarette from his pocket. Puffing on the smoke, he spun the laptop around so Berto could see it. "I don't suppose you'd care to explain."

The display showed a basic diagram of Max's Biolink interface. None of the functions were labeled, but Snake had obviously figured out that it was more then a cutting-edge PDA straight out of Final Fantasy: The Spirits Within. The fact that it was labeled as a classified document didn't help.

"Of course," Berto glowered. "It's a snow-cone maker."

Snake rolled his eyes and took a very long drag from his cigarette. "Great, one's comatose and one thinks he's Arnold Schwarzenegger."

Almost on cue, the audio warning on Max's Biolink beeped again. Snake's eyebrows went up. "Missing a hot date, is he?"

Seeing no other option, Berto scooted over and reached, making no attempt to hide his actions. Before Snake could threaten him, his finger touched the button he was looking for.

And Max Steel and his N-Tek gear dissolved in the usual glow of transphasic energy, leaving behind Josh McGrath in his usual assortment of every-day civilian clothes.

"Hmm," Snake tossed his cancer stick out the side of the chopper, watching it flutter, "well, that figures."

"Whoa, cool," Otacon had to comment, leaning farther around his chair for a better view. The Kasatka suddenly took a sharp bank, threatening to dump everything and everyone out and to the ground far below.

Catching the laptop and his icepack before they dropped out into the wild blue yonder, Snake yelled, "Otacon!"

"Whoops, sorry!"

With that, the helicopter was shortly righted. Josh's eyes slid open a little and he tried to get up, but that was a far overstatement of the few centimeters he was able to move. Without the drain of being in Max mode, he could stay (barely) conscious, not to mention alive, but he wasn't going anywhere. Berto wondered if he was even aware of his surroundings. If Kat didn't pull off a miracle, he was going to have to spill the beans about everything and hope Snake and his partner were humane enough to let him get the portable generator.

Fortunately or unfortunately, the sound of an explosion and the Kasatka violently rocking around seemed to signify that something was happening.

"What the hell was that?!" Snake demanded. Otacon struggled with the controls, trying desperately to regain balance.

"Felt like a Stinger," the scientist called back.

Throwing open the box on the wall that contained a flare gun and, naturally, some flares, Snake muttered a string of curses. Stinger missiles, he decided, weren't so useful when he was on the receiving end. On the one hand, they were light, easy to fire, and had enough of a yield to be the weapon of choice against large, bipedal tanks. On the other hand, they were so versatile that he did not like being on the receiving end of them. The only advantage was the minimal yield; it took just as long to take down aircraft with the thing as it did taking down Metal Gear.

Self-complaining done, Snake leaned out the door. Not far behind the Kasatka was the Helifoil, which was quickly becoming the most annoying little machine Snake had ever seen. Sure enough, the pilot had a Stinger launcher. And another missile headed his way.

"Works in the movies," Snake thought aloud, aiming the flare gun and pulling the trigger. The flare hit the missile perfectly on the nosecone, and did absolutely nothing to stop it. "Damn chemical-only flares..."

The missile hit, tossing Snake right back inside. Berto could've sworn those were some nasty obscenities Snake was muttering under his breath...

"We just lost an engine," Otacon yelled, "I gotta take her down!"

Snake looked back out the side; the Helifoil was nowhere in sight.

---

Kat had almost been ready to brush the ninja off as either a crazy idiot or a fake leading her into a trap.

And then Max's locator went off over Del Oro Bay. Over the bay. It wasn't bad enough that he apparently was trouble, but he was getting in trouble while airborne as well. That worried her more then it used to, the air wasn't the safest place he could be with his constant power drains nowadays.

A quick call to Smith revealed that Max and Berto had taken the Helifoil after someone, and not five seconds later, the thing landed outside the van... damaged and without a pilot. Kat wasn't Berto, but it was a fairly simple matter to replace the damaged engine with the spare.

And that had been how she ended shooting down an attack helicopter with the Stinger launcher the Ninja had left while flying up behind it. Furthermore, it had been how she ended up landing in stealth mode and quietly climbing to the top of the Kasatka after her engines had been turned off. Gotta thank Berto for adding the stealth to that thing...

After a minute, Snake ventured out of the Kasatka, SOCOM held up as his eyes scanned the area. Kat took that moment to drop down in front of him and kick the gun from his hands.

Unlike Snake's fistfight with Max in the Kasatka, the outdoors provided plenty of room for the pair of fighters to completely cut loose. After leaping out of the cockpit to get a better view, Otacon decided it was definitely a better-then-anime moment.

"Hey," Josh slurred, "Izzat Kat kicking his butt?"

"Looks like it," Berto tossed out, not really paying attention to Josh as he pulled himself up against the bulkhead. His eye was on something else.

Kat, on the other hand, was not so excited. She wasn't going to be able to outfight Solid Snake and she knew it. She could see Max and Berto down for the count in the Kasatka; her original plan had been to provide a distraction long enough for them to get free, but she hadn't counted on them being unable to get up.

She put that distraction part out of her head for the time being. It didn't stop Snake from seeing an opening, grabbing her arm and twisting her around; her back was to his chest a second later, arms pinned between them.

"I should warn you," Snake chuckled, holding her from struggling, "I've always felt compelled to hit on younger women."

"Yeah? Great pickup line, learn it from L'Etranger?" Kat rolled her eyes. "I prefer just plain hitting." She stomped on his foot. Snake swore a good one, and Kat spun on her heals and kicked him across the face.

Shaking his head and blinking a few times, Snake launched himself back at Kat as she went for his neck.

And then a gunshot rang out. Kat and Snake stopped dead and turned in time to see Berto hopping away from the Kasatka on his good leg, the forgotten SOCOM now leveled at Snake himself. "Can we all calm down now? Kat, have you got the generator?"

"Don't leave home without it," she snapped her fingers and dashed around the Kasatka to the Helifoil. Berto kept the gun steady; the laser sight made it heavier then the side arms he'd (briefly) used passing N-Tek's basic field training years ago, but that didn't deter him. He didn't actually think he could win any sort of fight with his ankle screaming in pain, but Snake was currently weaponless, and both he and Otacon were too far away to reach him before he could fire.

"Oh, uh, hey, Kid," Snake blinked, raising his hands slightly, "no hard feelings 'bout the ankle?"

"Right," Berto tilted his head. Then it hit him; one of Snake's hands was inching to his belt while his mouth provided a subtle distraction, inching toward what was probably a smoke or flash grenade. The laser sight of the SOCOM pointing between Snake's feet, Berto pulled the trigger. "Don't."

"Hmm, not bad," commented Snake.

To the side, Otacon pushed his glasses up. "Snake, why do I get the feeling you're not the only espionage expert here?"

Berto forgotten for the moment, Snake gave Otacon a look. "I dunno Otacon, I've gotten that feeling since people in optic camouflage started following me while I followed Vamp."

Holding back a chuckle, Berto kept silent. Watching and learning through Max only went so far, certainly not to the expert level, but they didn't need to know that.

---

Josh equated a massive power drain with going to bed at three in the morning, getting up before six, and having had no food for a few days. It wasn't entirely the worst feeling in the world, mostly because he was too weak to actually feel it.

The portable generator fed him transphasic energy like a drug, but it felt more subtle then that. Usually, however, being on the floor of a Russian helicopter with one major crick in the neck and someone checking your pulse was not a subtle thing.

"How you feeling, Hermano?"

"I dunno," Josh blinked, "gimmie a metaphor that means 'really bad.'"

"A frog in a well knows not of the sea?" someone outside said. This was immediately followed by a groan that was most definitely from Snake. "Hey, I got it right! I think."

The memory of Snake returning brought Josh completely out of la-la-land, and he was quick to pull himself to his feet. Any other time, Berto would've protested his insistence to even think about moving so soon after his recovery, but there were still things to be taken care of.

At least, he thought there was. The sight outside the Kasatka was a little surreal, with Snake and Otacon standing several feet away, the latter holding Snake's icepack to his own head. Kat was leaning against the helicopter, Snake's SOCOM in one hand and both eyes on her prisoners.

"So, sleeping beauty's awake, huh?" Snake raised an eyebrow.

Shoving an elbow into his ribs, Otacon hissed, "Snake, don't make them mad!"

Snake just laughed. "Hey, so she smacked you with my gun, Otacon. It's not my fault you tried to tackle her. Enjoy your first concussion. I remember my first... no, of course I don't. If I remembered it, it wouldn't be a concussion."

"That's what makes me nervous," Otacon grumbled.

"Quiet," Snake's head twitched ever so slightly and he raised a hand, suddenly looking serious.

Kat looked over their new prisoners. "It's worse then looking in a mirror."

A 'shhh!' came from Josh; Kat and Berto stared at him, his face turning sour as his eyes darted around, the fatigue from his recent drain forgotten for the moment. Apparently, he'd caught on to whatever had thrown Snake off. But Josh was closer to what spooked them. Snake didn't have the proximity to pin it down with normal hearing. Josh doubted he would have noticed himself without his enhanced senses, but he turned around and looked across the Kasatka's hull. Then he looked up.

Acting on his sense, Josh crouched down, leapt from the grass, and reached up. His hand snagged something on top of the Kasatka, something that didn't look like it was there; or someone with optic camouflage.

Josh fell flat on his back when he pulled, the distortion from the stealth falling over him and rolling on the grass to a crouch. The stealth dropped, revealing the ninja Kat had seen earlier.

With Otacon jumping back in fright, Snake decided he needed another cigarette and promptly lit one. "God, not another one."

"Not bad," the ninja rose and dusted itself off, "how did you know?"

"Heard metal on metal," Snake took a puff.

"Heard your heartbeat," Josh added.

Not really phased by this impossible feat, the ninja went on. "You may all be interested to know that the family whose property you have landed on has just arrived home. I suggest you all shake hands and leave before they call the authorities."

Cloaking again, the ninja jumped off, leaving behind a group of highly perplexed people.

Taking the last drag from his cigarette, Snake commented, "They just get more cryptic every time, don't they?"

"Yep," Otacon said. "So. Um... maybe we should stop trying to kill each other?"

Josh made a face. "You've been shooting at us all day and now you want to be friends?"

Snake, on the other hand, was used to Otacon saying absurd things like that lately. At least he'd stopped trying to dish out proverbs since Mei Ling gave him a good talking-to. "Hey, self defense. Shoot me in the leg if you want."

"Yeah!" Otacon added, sounding every bit like a geek with no confrontational skills, "we didn't know you weren't really connected to Vamp!"

Turning to him, Snake crossed his neck with a finger and made a violent sort of a 'shhh!' sound. Otacon flinched and turned beet-red.

"Vamp, huh?" Berto picked up on this train of thought. "Vamp, the former Navy SEAL, member of the 'Dead Cell' training squad, went rogue and aided in the terrorist action that destroyed the Big Shell in the lower New York Harbor a few months ago which led to the debris washing onto shore and trashing Federal Hall? Dubious connections to Ex-president George Sears, a.k.a. Solidus Snake, survivor of the 'Les Effants Terribles' project? That Vamp?"

Snake blinked. Then he wondered if it was a good thing that he hadn't broken the kid's neck. "How did you know all that?"

Berto just winced. "Because I'm a genius. A genius in pain, I might add."

"You science guys," Snake shook his head, "I'd hate to see you and Otacon get shot and actually need hospitalization."

Kat and Josh were equally stupefied; Berto had no time they knew of between reading the book and now to look into Snake's business as Kat had suggested.

But it reminded Kat of something. She handed him the optical disc the ninja had given her. "Speaking of which, Mr. Resident Genius, here ya go."

"I hate this format," Berto turned the disc over in his hands. "I'll need my equipment back at the van to see what's on it."

"Let me guess," Snake rolled his eyes, "the ninja gave it to you?"

At Kat's nod, Otacon started to wonder. "They just get worse. Snake, do we know the ninja this time? I've lost track."

"Actually, I was hoping you did. Great, more mysteries," Snake answered.

Shouting came from a nearby hill. Snake looked around and took in the surroundings for the first time since landing. Otacon had brought the Kasatka down in the middle of a farm, and the farm owners up yonder weren't amused. "Where are we, anyway?"

Digging in his pockets, Berto answered, "good question. Better question, how do we deal with being here with military equipment and a Russian helicopter."

But he already had the answer, and quickly dialed the number after finding his phone. "Jefferson! Hi! It's Martinez!"

Josh made a face and covered his ears when Berto held the phone out at arm's length, his father's shouting very audible. He distinctly caught things like "what the hell happened!" and "where's Josh!" and "#%@&*!"

Much to Josh's gratefulness, Berto didn't pass the phone over to him. "Right, right... yeah, hey, we're fine, we're all fine. Everything's fine! No, really! You have a lie detector built into your phone, how could this be coerced? Yeah, listen, can we... um, that is to say, Josh is wondering if we could borrow the Behemoth for, say... ten minutes?"

Franticly waving for Berto to shut up, Josh lost all hope of seeing his next paycheck once Berto hung up the line. "More fuel coming out of my salary..."

---

A full twenty minutes later, the Behemoth was finally flying away after having nicely airlifted the Kasatka to the parking lot next to Team Steel's van. Josh watched the mammoth plane fly away, a sullen expression on his face. If my cause of death isn't listed as 'wrath of Dad,' I'll be surprised.

"We're just gonna leave it here?" Snake asked. "Maybe I'm getting old, but a Russian helicopter in the middle of a sports arena looks... a little out of place."

"Nah," Berto waved him off, "lots of teams have eccentric transportation. Like us. We just register you for it and say it's the civilian model."

Josh shook his head. "Later, Bro. You need a trip to the medics."

"Don't remind me."

"I'll take 'em," Snake volunteered. It seemed only fair, after all.

Horrified by this, Berto tried to hop away, not an easy task while with Josh holding him up. "What, why, so you can break my other ankle?"

"I was being nice," Snake crossed his arms. "I could've broken your neck."

The younger scientist decided to shut his mouth.

"I'll take him," Josh said.

Kat shot him a look. "You're just leaving me with the Peanut Gallery?"

Slightly flustered, Otacon let out a huff. "I resent that!"

---

"Well well well, Bloodsucker's already here, eh?"

Kicking off the side of the desk and giving his coat a dramatic swoosh, Vamp regarded the man that was walking down the office toward him. "Nice to see you too, Psycho."

"It's always nice to see me," Psycho stopped just short of the large, U-shaped desk, the chair in the center turned so the man sitting in it could watch the wall monitors, and not be seen himself. "I just have one of those nice, pleasant faces."

For the tenth time since meeting him, Vamp looked Psycho over. No matter how many times he saw the metal of Psycho's face, the smile always got to him. "With gnashing molars."

Psycho's claw came down his arm, and he promptly leveled it at Vamp's neck. "This from the Anne Rice reject?"

"Boys, do play nice," their current employer scolded. His hand reached over to the desk and picked up a glass of wine. "Didn't your parents teach you to be quiet when someone's on the phone?"

"What're parents?" Psycho backed off, and Vamp didn't try to antagonize him further.

The center monitor on the wall changed to receive the incoming transmission, and the old but far from decrepit man on the other end turned his head toward the camera. "Hey, Boss."

"Ahh, Revolver Ocelot at last. I was getting tired of hearing tirades from my brother. Gotten Liquid under control, I assume?"

"For the moment," the gunslinger answered. "He's still digging at my head. You Snakes are a tough crowd, you know."

The wineglass shattered from an over-exerted hand. "You take risks, Ocelot."

"Yes," Ocelot agreed, a small grin on the side of his mouth. "From the rather noticeable ability to crush glass in your bare hands and bleed only a few drops, it looks like the nano probes are working."

"For the most part, yes. My eye is better then new, though there were some unexpected... pigmentation issues with it. Nevertheless, I almost have the probes ready to exorcise my brother from you."

Ocelot clearly enjoyed this news. "Splendid. I look forward to having that idiot forcibly removed. I hope it hurts. Him."

"Indeed," was the answer, followed by the click of a remote. "Oh, and some friends have been pestering me all day to have a word or three with you."

A picture-in-picture window popped up on the transmission, patching another caller in.

"Ocelot! Why have you betrayed us!" The image of Roy Campbell demanded.

"Oh, you," Ocelot deadpanned. His gazed turned back to the chair's occupant. "Can't you delete them yet?"

"I'm afraid not. We have yet to determine the exact location the program is stored at. It doesn't matter, their influence is cut off, just a loose end to tie up."

The AI image switched to a young woman with long, dark hair. "You wouldn't dare touch us, your society depends on us!"

The Colonel came back. "Without us, you will have only anarchy!"

"Which is precisely what we want," Psycho rolled his metal eyes. "Stupid computers. Does anything ever compute?"

The remote clicked again, cutting the AI off from the transmission. "Ocelot, take RAY back, there simply isn't any other place to hide it. Then meet with Vamp and Psycho, it's time to draw our friends out into the fire."

"Right," Ocelot nodded, cutting the transmission.

Vamp pulled a knife from his belt and, playing his part of the classic vampire, ran the blade down his tongue. His own blood, however, was decidedly less appetizing then that of other people. "So you've chosen a site, King?"

"Of course," 'King' answered. "Quite a convenient one. A Mexican fertilizer plant near the Texas border."

"Fertilizer? Sounds a bit... lame, Boss," Psycho answered. "How do you expect me to work off stress on fertilizer?"

"Yes, fortunately there is no fertilizer plant," King added, much to Psycho's relief. "It's a converted factory, currently poorly guarded and being used to build one of the many Metal Gear REX clones floating around. The United States government knows this. The Mexicans know that we know, but we pretend that we don't know, and they pretend that they don't know that we know... but know that we know. Everyone knows. And the three of you are going to make sure Mr. Steel, my brother, and their associates will know very shortly."

---

"I hate casts," Berto sighed, watching the doctor finish wrapping the one around his ankle.

"The break is only a simple hairline fracture, Mr. Martinez," the medic rolled her eyes, glancing back to the x-rays. Berto didn't care for female physicians, either; in his experience, they usually hated male patients. "You'll be on your feet in no time. How did you do this, anyway? I usually don't see managers in here."

"Um," Berto stammered. He and Josh had completely forgotten to come up with an excuse.

"We got mugged," Josh jumped in. "Yeah... guys jumped us right in broad daylight..."

"And they went after your ankle?"

Throwing his best pity-me smile, Berto answered, "they attacked us at 4:00pm, I think they were pretty weird already."

The doctor conceded. "I suppose that's a good point. What would you like for a crutch, wood or metal?"

Berto didn't hesitate. "Metal."

Slowed by Berto's top speed set a hobble, the pair began the process of heading back to the parking lot where Team Steel's van sat next to a damaged Russian helicopter under the growing twilight. The funny thing was, Berto had been telling the truth; the D.O.X. had seen stranger.

"So, where to from here, Hermano?"

"Good question, Bro," Josh wondered, "let's see, we've got a freak vampire... thing hanging around here, a legend at the van... one who happened to break your ankle."

His crutch almost sounding more distinct against the ground, Berto groaned. "Don't remind me. Actually, yes, remind me; remind me not to point guns at people and make them mad? Anyway, I still have to go over that disc Kat gave me, see what's up."

Josh frowned. "You know what rubs me the wrong way? Someone's been shoving us toward our... new acquaintances. Remember the book? The ninja is one of Snake's old ghosts, but he came to us."

That led to a corollary Berto picked up on. "What're the odds that we start seeing Vamp with, oh... Vitriol, Smiley, etcetera?"

"Pretty good, I'd say," Josh said. Motion up ahead caught his eye; he zoomed in for a better look. "Kat!"

He broke into a run, leaving Berto to fend for himself. "Josh, what!"

But he didn't really hear Berto; all of his attention was focused on the scene in front. Snake, Kat, and blows being exchanged suddenly made him feel like a complete and utter fool for leaving her with a pair of "terrorists" that had shot at her only hours earlier.

Snake heard the sound cue when he went into Max mode, turned, and gave a good "huh?"

And Kat promptly hopped into the air and kicked him flat on his back. Max skidded to a stop, looking her over for injuries. "Are you alright?"

"Of course," she cracked her knuckles. "Intricate plans coming together, such satisfaction."

"So that's why you said 'no pads,'" Snake stood up. He and Kat bowed to each other. "Nice."

The look on Max's face as he powered down was priceless. "You were sparring?"

"Yep," Kat put a hand to her head and cracked her neck. "Thanks for the distraction, always the best way to break someone's concentration."

"She's gonna give you a run for your codename, Snake," Otacon called down from his ladder. He gave the Kasatka's engine one last look, closed the cowling, and sulked on his way down.

"How is it?" Snake raised an eyebrow. A boom of thunder rang in the distance, and the first drops of rain began to fall.

Turning toward the chopper, Otacon pointed his finger like a gun at the engines, pressed his thumb down, and annunciated a nice gunshot. "That answer your question? I hate Stingers."

"Yep," Snake chuckled, "We break your ankle, you blow us out of the sky... at least we're even."

"I hardly think Kamov helicopters feel pain," Berto glared at him from a good fifteen feet away, not quite caught up to Josh yet.

"Right, so," Josh spoke up before anyone could make anyone else mad again, "you guys know Vamp, right? Care to enlighten us?"

"Sure," Snake looked up at the sky just in time for a large raindrop to splash him in the face just below the bandana. "Can we do it inside? I'm fresh out of cold medicine."

"Fine by me," Berto added, not eager to grow ill again either. Kat held the van's door open for him while he hopped up the steps.

---

The ref list:

-Snake's comment about Berto quoting Arnold is referring to True Lies.

-Snake's line about not remembering concussions is a variant of a line from Babylon 5.

-King's spiel about the fertilizer plant is from Under Siege 2: Dark Territory.

-Otacon pulls a Casey Jones of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles fame when asked about the Kasatka.