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

There are still too many things I have to do. -Solid Snake

"You know, one of N-Tek's old field training facilities was a recreation of Shadow Moses."

"Figures," Snake rolled his eyes, strapping his M4 rifle to his back. "VR simulations, create your own toy soldiers today, just look at Jack over there..."

"VR my foot," Josh smirked, powering up into Max mode. "It's actually constructed on a nice, remote island. What do we look like, Force 21? Please."

"Hmm," Snake pondered that. And then he pondered the idea of someone going to that much trouble to experience his... exploits. It was a nice thought for the ego. "Accurate simulation?"

"Dunno," he answered, flipping on his infrared. "I never got to run through it before we were shut down. Ah, one against an army with no equipment, threat of a nuclear strike, all orchestrated by someone nasty in the government and a deathmatch against a walking tank, something Big Jim woulda loved... Whoa, we got a minefield to the south."

Glad that he'd brought his thermal goggles this time, Snake leaned further out of the Kasatka and panned his view around. The high-noon sun warmed everything over, but artificial heat sources were warmer. "Stealth-equipped claymores. Big Jim?"

"Approach from the field is out," Max shut off his infrared and zoomed back a little. "The front entrance looks unguarded. Way too easy. Jim was my biological father, field agent for N-Tek, KIA when I was... four I think."

"Too easy for them," Snake answered. "Three guys, two we know, took this place this morning with no armed forces to back them up. The security must've sucked. Your father was Jim McGrath? I heard FOXHOUND taught some of his missions after I left. Never knew the whole N-Tek thing, though."

The Codec came on over Snake's vision, Otacon's ever-present visage greeting him. "It's a fertilizer plant, Snake. They're not gonna have Genome soldiers patrolling the grounds."

"Otacon," Snake winced, "go into another room or something, I'm hearing feedback from the kid's transmission."

"I have an idea," Berto's voice echoed. A few seconds later, both Snake and Max heard the sounds of equipment, papers and people shuffling around.

Berto switched with Otacon on Snake's Codec image for a second. "Whoops, wrong button."

"No, no, that one," Otacon hollered over, his finger waving in front of Berto's face and pointing down.

"I see it, I see it," Berto shoved him away. "Let's see if this works."

Otacon's face came back again. "Ah hah! Snake, we patched our Codec into Max's Biolink."

"Which means?" Snake and Max frowned.

"We're all listening to each other over one line," Berto translated. "So, point of entry, front gates look too easy, there's only two confirmed attackers so they probably left something nasty there in place of guards. How's the roof look?"

Snake couldn't see the bodies lying around through his thermal scope; they'd long grown cold and the daylight tended to make man-made surfaces pretty blurry anyway, but Max had a clear view. "Couple of corpses lying around, looks like death-by-throwing-knife."

"Vamp," Snake took his scope off. "Well. Now we know who the third assailant is. Hey Otacon, if it's worth anything, I guess following him was a good idea."

Otacon thumbed his nose into the camera. "Nyah nyah, told ya so!"

"So what'll it be, guys?" Kat called back.

Max and Snake shared a look before looking toward the cockpit and nodding. "Roof."

---

Vamp had never actually left the roof. He'd figured at least Snake would choose that particular method of entry, and his hunch appeared to be paying off. Otacon's modifications to the Kasatka may have made it invisible to radar, but the enhanced senses were a definite perk to being undead. He'd seen the chopper when it was miles away, though the fact that the sun had long risen had helped.

So was the complete lack of body heat, something that Vamp appreciated more when he saw the thermal scope hanging off Snake's neck as he roped down.

Snake didn't seem surprised when a knife whooshed by the side of his face and embedded in the wall he'd touched down next to. "Looks like there's a blood sucking freak in the house after all."

"Flattery will get you nowhere, Snake," Vamp strolled out into the morning light, a knife playing between his fingers. "If it's any consolation, I would've enjoyed you more as an adversary at the D.O.X. had our little farce gone on. The thrill in dodging bullets is long over."

"Really," Snake's eyebrow went up. "I don't recall saying I was going to bother with you in the first place."

Behind Vamp, Max came out of stealth mode. "Hi!"

Surprised, quite possibly for the first time in his life or unlife, Vamp turned around and promptly had his face introduced to Max's fist.

"Thanks Kid," Snake called, turning around and practically hurling himself inside the rooftop door.

---

The sounds of Max and Vamp's battle long faded, Snake worked his way down from the top floor.

"Otacon, this is not a fertilizer plant."

"Don't look at me," Otacon waved his hands. At least, Snake thought he did; he couldn't actually see from the Codec's limited view. "I hacked into the place's computers as soon as you guys left, there's nothing to suggest otherwise."

"Except the fact that this place looks more like an office building on the inside. How's the kid doing with Vamp?"

Berto flashed onto the other end. "He's... handling it well."

Otacon returned. "Snake... um, find..."

"Find what?" Snake raised an eyebrow. "We have no idea what's really going on here. I'll try random searching for the moment."

That said, Snake hopped over the stair railing and landed in a crouch on the lobby floor without a sound. There was still nothing on the radar, but the sight here was definitely wrong.

There was, of course, the fact that the so-called fertilizer plant had such a fancy lobby, but what interested him more was the massive body count. People in suits and casual dress alike were scattered about, with blood caked on the floor in puddles and smeared on the walls.

"God... Fox, eat your heart out."

"I'd do that for him," a distinctly male voice echoed in the hall, "if he were still alive. And if I were taken to cannibalism."

Snake turned instantly, looking toward the source. The lobby turned into an elevator hall at the back, and a man has just strolled out of one, a single stain of blood dark against his shirt. Snake couldn't help but notice that he didn't show on the radar.

His next thought being "FOXHOUND reject," Snake looked the newcomer over: large build, biomechanical right arm, face made completely of metal with red eyes to complete the deranged Terminator look...

"Lemmie guess; Psycho?"

"Ding!" Psycho cheered, his claw folding down. "Good answer. And the survey says... it's time to fry!"

Fortunately, Snake knew when a weapon was being aimed at him, and he dived behind the reception desk before being seared in half by Psycho's built-in beam weapon. The shot strafed across the general area and made even more of a mess with some of the corpses, but Snake wasn't really concerned with that when he stood just high enough to get his gun over the desk and returned fire.

A pair of bullets bounced off of Psycho's right arm as he stepped into one of the elevators, dashing out and firing once more when Snake took cover again. This time, he didn't stay put and made a beeline for the desk.

Hearing his footfalls, Snake hopped up onto said desk and leapt off, catching Psycho in the biggest tackle of his life.

---

"Can't hit him Bro, he knows what I'm gonna do before I do it!"

Max was getting annoyed with Vamp; the freak was matching him move for move, and the only consolation he had was being able to dodge Vamp's knife tricks just as well. The fight was effectively going nowhere.

Vamp could jump higher, too; something he proved at that very moment by leaping into the air and landing less then a foot from Max at his back. Max heard the knife cutting air as Vamp spun on his heals and rolled forward, sending them both back to square one.

Sheathing his combat knife and drawing another throwing blade, Vamp chuckled. "You're more of a challenge then I expected."

Seeing Vamp's arm move for the throw, Max moved to the side, letting the knife whiz past. "I'll take that as a compliment."

He broke into a run and jumped at Vamp, prepared to take his head off with the flying kick he'd become so skilled at delivering, but again, Vamp jumped away.

"Hermano, I may have something," Berto's voice filled his ear, "Otacon said Vamp can dodge bullets by watching the shooter's muscles, he can probably pull the same thing hand-to-hand."

"Great," Max mumbled, "so all I have to do is not move."

"I grow weary of this," Vamp intoned. He leapt through the air and over Max again, flinging a knife on his way... but it was way off target; Max knew it would miss by a mile the second it left the bloodsucker's hand.

Max saw the knife stab into the ground, but quite suddenly, he couldn't move. More specifically, he couldn't move his legs, as if his feet had suddenly been nailed to the floor, and he almost stumbled and fell flat on his face.

"Can't run from your shadow?" Vamp said, waving a finger. He spun around and hurled more knives, and Max suddenly found it much more difficult to weave around them without being able to run.

But Vamp was toying with him; every one of them went toward a point on his upper body and he managed to move way from them all as they flew past, one of then nicking his arm.

"Crap, I forgot he could do that," Max could hear Otacon bolt out of his chair. "Max, listen, he's got you shadowbound, you gotta get rid of your shadow or get rid of the knife!"

Max had more important things to worry about; he could see that single knife jabbed into the ground, impaling his shadow and glowing a faint orange, but his immediate attention was on the single knife Vamp was currently throwing.

He couldn't dodge this one, and it sunk into his leg. He didn't react with more then a flinch, forcing himself not to give Vamp the satisfaction despite the red spreading down his jumpsuit.

Hopping through the air, Vamp landed in a perfect lotus position on the ground in front of him, a smirk on his face. "So many different smells lately..."

It didn't really hurt when Vamp reached up and plucked the knife out. The Max Probes were already doing their thing and dulling the pain, and now they would start sealing the wound. But that didn't change the fact that he still couldn't move.

Vamp reached a hand up and let Max's blood ebb into his palm. And Max glared down at him, fully intent on kicking his ass into next week, after Vamp stopped being a psychotic weirdo that was seriously starting to freak him out, anyway.

At least, it freaked him out when Vamp brought his hand back to his mouth and slurped his blood down like soup. "Different, but succulent. Your nanoprobes make the blood spicy, did you know that, Mr. Steel? Oh, how I wouldn't mind making a regular meal of you."

As if being stuck in place wasn't bad enough, Max thought, Vamp was almost flirting with him, too. Having had quite enough, Max drew his grapple gun and pointed it at Vamp's head; Vamp leaned to the side before it was even level.

"You can't hit me with your fist, and you think you're going to hit me with that?"

"Nope," Max smiled. He pulled the trigger, not even trying to re-align the gun with Vamp's head. The grapple flew past him, shattering the knife binding his shadow, and Max could feel his feet release.

Vamp shot to his feet, but he was too late; Max had an idea. "Going Turbo!"

He opened up on Vamp, his theory proving correct. Vamp could see where the next attack was coming by reading his muscles, and normally, he was fast enough to dodge around them... but in turbo mode, Max was faster.

Vamp managed to duck under his first punch, but each of his blows after that slipped by Vamp's defenses and hurt him a little more, until, finally, Max rolled towards him and planted both feet into his chest. Vamp flew from the ground and right off the roof, powerless to change his direction.

And Max, dropping out of turbo mode, fell against one of the roof's many obstacles, needing a breather. He looked at his leg, and was pleased to see the bleeding had already stopped.

"How're you feeling, Hermano?" Berto asked.

Letting out one last deep breath, Max stood and smiled, "creeped out and half drained, but it was worth it to knock him senseless."

"Y'did more then knock him senseless, Steel," Kat laughed over her headset. Max turned to look at the Kasatka still circling around. "He ain't moving."

"We'll see how long that lasts," Otacon intoned, an ominous air to his voice. "Um, Max, you might be interested to know, Snake's letting his anger out on that Psycho guy on the ground floor."

"Really," Max grinned. "So ol' Smiley came out to play? Going turbo!"

---

Psycho was a better hand-to-hand fighter then most of the weirdoes Snake had faced, he had to give him that. And the guy was smart, too, prepared against being caught off-guard.

But the very loud crashing noise, a combination of 'thud,' 'smash,' and 'crack' and the sound of glass breaking; that distracted them both. And they both turned to look out the front doors to see Vamp's fallen corpse on top of a car, the roof of it now smashed down to the seats. The bloodsucker was bruised, broken, bleeding, and one of his legs was bent in an incredibly unnatural way. Adding to this morbid image was the fire hydrant still spewing water, which was now showering Vamp and turning crimson on the pavement.

"That musta' hurt," Psycho scratched his head for a second, before turning and launching himself at Snake again.

Snake jumped to the side and stuck a leg out for Psycho to run into, but this idea backfired when Psycho caught his leg and dropped him like a rock.

So Snake kicked him in the face with his other leg and jumped to his feet when Psycho stumbled back. The latter started rubbing at his face almost seizure-like. "I just polished myself, I swear, if you left a scuffmark I am going to rip your foot off and make you eat it!"

"Do you know how asinine these things you say are," Snake raised an eyebrow, "before they come out of your mouth... jaw?"

"Oooo, harsh," Psycho mocked, raising his hands and waving his fingers. "Steel's pet names for me are more insulting, Mullet-Head." At that, Psycho reached over and picked up the massive desk Snake had originally hid behind, hefting it over his head with every intention of hurling it at his adversary. "And for today, I'll demonstrate my killer curve ball!"

Eyes wide, Snake decided that this situation stank. Seeing a possible way out, assuming Psycho's bionics weren't bizarre in their design, he drew his SOCOM and fired.

The bullet pinged off of the inside metal of his arm; Snake's shot had been very precise. And the mini-hydraulics that acted as tendons for Psycho's shoulder bled out.

"Aw, crap," the terrorist sighed. Precisely one second later, his arm gave out and the desk fell on his head.

The sound of something solid cracking echoed in the room; Snake turned to see that Max, glowing green again, had leapt off of the roof and landed just outside.

And Max almost forgot to power down when he ran in and caught sight of Psycho buried under a desk from the waist up. "Well. I see you and Smiley got along."

"He decided to sit this out," Snake reloaded his SOCOM. "Said he has a splitting headache after the National Alliance for the Mentally Ill got his phone number."

"Good, maybe they'll deal with him from now on," Max kicked him like a tire, just to make sure he was out. "Now what?"

"He came up from an elevator," Snake looked down the hall. "We could backtrack his route. So, two wackos down, two to go."

Max blinked and followed him. "Two? I thought there were only three."

"Three bodies," Snake answered, "four people. I wasn't kidding when I said Liquid Snake lives in Revolver Ocelot's arm."

The elevator Psycho had taken only went down, which was interesting in itself, but the fact that it had needed a keycard to open, easily snatched from one of the bodies in the lobby, made it stand out.

And it went down far, at least twenty stories before coming to a stop and opening its doors. Snake seemed to look into space for just a second, in reality checking his radar. "Little hallway, no one here."

"Now who's using a gimmick," Max chuckled. Snake responded by turning and glaring at him before turning into the hall.

This hall had only one doorway for an exit. Clearly, the architect of this building was either a very boring man or had very little time to be creative. This door, however, also required a keycard, and they hadn't found one for the level of security the door displayed.

"Great," Snake pulled a cigarette and lit it, "maybe our friends up top have one."

"No need," Max put a hand to the door, vaguely annoyed at the tone the sensor made when it didn't read the appropriate card on his person.

He took a step back and kicked it in.

"That's handy," Snake nodded. "Hey Otacon, can we keep him?"

But Max was silent on the other side of the threshold, and Snake saw why as soon as he followed.

The cigarette dropped from his mouth when his jaw hit the floor. "Metal Gear?!"

"What did he say?" Both of them heard Otacon freak and rustle about, desperately trying to get a view of Berto's monitors. "Lemmie see that!"

Everyone was speechless. The door led to a catwalk circling above a massive underground chamber. The room was a maintenance bay not unlike the one built on Shadow Moses, and in it stood a variation of Metal Gear REX. This one resembled Otacon's original designs more then some did, but it was smaller, probably faster over rough terrain but carrying a lighter conventional payload. Not that REX really needed anything besides a rail gun and a nuclear warhead to be efficient.

And even Snake, who had seen dozens of these and stared down RAY, the Metal Gear to end Metal Gears, was shocked beyond belief. It just wasn't supposed to be here. "Um, Otacon?"

"I didn't know!" Otacon yelped. "I hacked their systems before you even took off, there's nothing in there!"

"Calm down, Otacon," Snake blinked. It seemed, from Snake's point of view, anyway, that the massive abuse of his invention was starting to get to him more and more. Maybe a convenient vent for whatever feelings he had over Emma's death... Otacon was taking Vamp's presence in stride, after all...

"Well, he didn't find anything because nothing's there," Berto came over the line, the insane tapping noise signifying that he was already hacking into something himself. "The information on it's all in the Mexican government's database."

"How'd you know where to look?" Max raised an eyebrow.

Otacon answered him. "It's always the government's fault," he sighed. "Doesn't matter which one or what the issue is, but that's the gold mine... I knew I should've looked around somewhere else when it didn't add up..."

"Well, at least now we figured out what our friends are doing here," Snake gestured to the machination. But as fast as that idea hit him, he realized something else as well. "Wait... this doesn't make sense-"

Click.

Snake and Max dived away from each other and hit the floor without a word, both knowing full well what had just echoed throughout the bay. The sound of a gunshot soon followed, but it bounced harmlessly off the railing of the catwalk.

Another soon followed, but the catwalk had a solid barrier below the railing, and the two were effectively shielded for the moment.

"Ocelot," Snake muttered.

"I thought you'd never get here, Snake," the old man's voice rang out, reverberating off the walls in the fashion of a horribly tuned musical instrument.

"He wasn't on the catwalk," Max recalled the vast expanse of the chamber, the angle from their current position to the floor. "He must be standing on the thing..."

"Oh, he is," Snake tapped a finger just above his eye; he could see Ocelot on his radar. A determined expression on his face, he slung the M4 off of his back, cocked it, and leapt to his feet. With a yell that would've made Solidus cower, he took exactly one-half of a second to aim the rifle at Ocelot's position and pull the trigger.

And Ocelot just stood there on the roof of Metal Gear, a Colt Single-Action Army in one hand, and a smile on his face as the bullets from Snake's machinegun veered away and into the walls, the ceiling, some even impacting on Metal Gear itself.

Ducking back down as Ocelot fired again, Snake let out a snarl. "Bastard, I forgot he had that thing; bullets won't touch him."

"This is why I'm not a gun person," Max looked at his Biolink, fixated on the T-Juice graph. "Can you piss him off?"

Depends on your definition of 'him,' Snake mused. "Oh... I can piss him off, the question is, can we handle it."

Max weighed the options. "Piss him off. Keep his attention up here, keep him looking for you. Stealth mode!"

Max vanished under his cloak, and Snake promptly rolled down the catwalk, stood, and opened fire again. Ocelot almost hit him with the ricochet when he shot back this time.

"Best you've got, Snake?" Ocelot called out, "maybe Liquid was right and you're getting old after all..."

"Yeah, speaking of Liquid," Snake raised his voice. He didn't yell; the more casual he he sounded, the better the chances of angering his genetic twin into putting in an appearance. "Thanks for not letting him out. You're more fun, Ocelot."

"Is that so?" Ocelot's arm twitched.

Snake went on. "Yeah, my brother," he spat the word, pure contempt in his voice, "you know, he just kinda sucks. All his crap about killing the world just so he isn't bored, and he's a shitty fighter on top of it! Probably couldn't hit the broad side of a barn if he were smart enough to use a gun."

"Shut up!" Ocelot's face turned pale and his arm jerked. He caught on to what Snake was doing and dropped down to Metal Gear's arm. From there, he hopped onto the kneecap and down to the floor.

"I dunno, Ocelot," Snake fired at him again, knowing full well nothing would hit. "It's clever of you to wear that thing, I mean, when Liquid's around, he'd just get you killed otherwise."

That did it. Now watching from on top of Metal Gear himself, Max heard a distinct, violent change in Ocelot's heartbeat... and Ocelot screamed, too, something that almost sounded like a long, drawn out, "damn you, Liquid..."

And then he was quiet again... but he pulled a complete one-eighty and tossed away the Colt in his hand, his voice completely different as his head snapped around, looking for any sign of Snake. "Brooootheerrrr!"

It wasn't the usual jovial greeting Liquid taunted Snake with, more like a demand that Snake would dare show himself so he could get a bullet between the eyes.

Snake, in fact, had been crawling across the catwalk toward the ladder. "Yeah, nice to see you too, Liquid!"

Popping his thermal scope back on, Snake poked his head up for a quick look; Max was too close to Liquid to distract him with gunfire anymore, lest the ricochet turn into friendly fire.

Liquid tried taking a shot at him, but he wasn't the gun master Ocelot was and grew angered at the fact that the Colt didn't fire. Scowling, he pulled the hammer back and took the shot, but now it was just a formality. The ricochet was no danger this time, so Snake stood and, trying to stay low, dashed to the ladder.

Now remembering to pull the hammer back, Liquid took the time to aim. Maybe he didn't 'understand the bullets,' but he could hit knotholes on the broad side of a barn with an actual, visual target to shoot at.

And then what felt like a hand wrapped around his arm and ruined his aim just as he pulled the trigger. Feeling something, or someone kick the gun out of his hand, Liquid tried to strike back. He missed, and Max, dropping out of his stealth, punched him in the face.

But while Liquid simply used the momentum to pull a back flip and land on his feet, Max almost fell over, the tell-tale beep sounding from his Biolink.

Liquid was disarmed, but he was more annoyed then distressed. "Can't fight your own battles, Snake? Sending a child after me now?"

Max had heard that insult enough in his illustrious career, and he enjoyed it about as much as he did when he first started. But he did enjoy making the terrorist of the week eat his own words, and he planned on making Liquid do just that.

Liquid lunged for him, and Max, summoning what strength he had left, stepped to the side and kicked Liquid square across the back as he passed. Unfazed, Liquid pushed off of Metal Gear's leg and tackled Max to the ground, but Max rolled with it and pushed him right off.

A snort escaping from his lips, Liquid shook his head at Max. "You don't even know what's going on, do you? You have no idea."

"I know you're a psychotic, possibly schizophrenic madman trying to steal powerful nuclear weapons," Max spat back. He grabbed his knees, sweat pouring from his face. He didn't bother looking at his T-Juice gauge, having a distinct feeling that he didn't want to know.

And Liquid started laughing so hard he almost went into convulsions. "Stealing?! You think Ocelot wants this outdated phony thing?"

"Then what does he want?" Max glared. If Liquid was so eager to hear himself talk, there was no reason that couldn't be useful.

"Me dead and buried, if you must know," Liquid attacked again; this time, Max was too drained to get out of the way and took most of the blows. "Ocelot thinks I don't know what happens when he's in control, but I see it all! He was supposed to help me claim this body for myself, for what it's worth, but he screwed me over for Ocelot!"

That got Max's interest. "Who's 'he?'"

Liquid just moved to strike Max down again, but a hand grabbed his head from behind.

And that hand wasted no time in slamming his face into Metal Gear's armor plating. "Liquid, your blood pressure is downright obscene." Snake mashed his forehead into the metal once more for good measure and let him drop to the floor non-chalant. "I'm surprised Ocelot's heart can take it. You okay, Kid?"

"Good question," Max panted, finally looking at his Biolink. "Berto, something's wrong... I shouldn't be draining this fast."

"I can't figure it out either," Berto mumbled, concentrating too hard on the data being fed to him to put much energy into talking. "Power down, Hermano."

"But..."

"I mean it."

He did so. "Feels like I'm taking a bath in an EMP..."

"EMP?" Otacon blinked. "What about EMP?"

"The Max Probes are too small to be totally insulated against electromagnetic interference," Berto explained, furiously trying to figure out the problem.

At this, Otacon grew alarmed. "Um... Snake? Didn't Ocelot say his anti-ballistic shielding uses electro-magnetics?"

Getting the idea, Snake plucked the EM shield from Ocelot's belt and stomped it under his boot; Josh felt better almost immediately.

"Well that answers that," Josh chuckled.

"Don't go back into Max mode, Hermano," Berto warned him, "it's already done the damage."

"Don't have to tell me twice," Josh answered. "So what now?"

"Now we destroy that," Snake waved an arm toward Metal Gear. "Otacon, any ideas? We didn't come equipped for demolition."

"Well, let's see," the engineer paused for a moment. More typing came over the line. "Is there a... Josh, can you turn your head to the right? That's perfect. See those cables wrapping around the catwalk and plugging into Metal Gear's beak? Those are fuel lines, they must've seen Snake's pictures of RAY and altered my design a little, it should refuel through the leg, but anyway..."

"So we sever the fuel lines and dump flammables everywhere," Berto added, "and set it off... we could use it's own payload, blow the whole building sky-high. We can walk you through the procedures."

"Great. Now, let's see," Snake noticed Otacon scratch his head, "from what Berto found, it looks like the thing's on a rotating platform, if we turn it, it should tear the fuel lines right off."

"I can't find the arming codes in the database," Berto added. "Josh, can you climb back up the ladder?"

Suppressing a groan, Josh answered, "sure thing, Bro."

"Okay, go back up and walk around it until you reach the control room, and I'll walk you through hacking the computers."

"So how do I turn the thing?" Snake huffed.

Eyebrows raised, Otacon said, "Geez Snake, patience! Look behind Metal Gear, there should be a big computer console with a knob on it for the turntable. Go turn it a hundred-eighty degrees."

"Gotcha," Snake found said console. The control he needed was more like a handle: nice, obvious, and locked under a pane of glass that needed a key to open. "Oh, screw it."

He shot the lock out, and the glass popped open.

Up in the control room, Josh wondered how Berto and Otacon did this h4x0r stuff so easily. And he had someone talking him through it! Fortunately, he was almost there, and right on time with Metal Gear rotating down in the bay. The fuel lines tore as Otacon and Berto had predicted, but Snake scrambled back up the ladder long before the brown, watery liquid even made it to his feet.

He left Ocelot in the bay.

"Okay Hermano," Berto said, "home stretch. I just looked at the raw data you sent me; use the login name "Julia," and enter "E-W-H-P-T-4" for the password."

"Done," Josh answered back. Of course, Berto could see that already.

"Okay, see where it says 'Self Destruct?' Hit that, and it'll do everything for us."

An alarm blared as soon as Josh followed that last instruction and the monitor flicked off, coming back with a simple digital countdown.

The countdown was set to five minutes... and it started immediately. Berto swore a nasty one in Spanish and Otacon fell out of his chair when he saw the image going through Josh's Biolink. "That's all!? What kind of safety precaution is that?"

"Who cares, we're leaving," Snake dashed back to the elevator, Josh right behind him. The effect of power drains were sometimes psychological; right now, Josh felt a great compulsion to move despite the muscles, as well as the nanoprobes in his legs screaming for him to halt.

And to make matters worse, they both suddenly remembered that the elevator had taken a good four minutes, at least, on the way down. "Berto, have Kat drop the ladder down and hang near the front doors, we don't have time for the roof."

The counter was on every monitor in the building, and it was down to forty-five seconds by the time they reached the lobby. Josh, unable to ignore his condition as much as he would've liked too anymore, almost fell flat on his face running out towards the doors, but Snake grabbed his shirt and steadied him mid-run.

"You're not gonna make it," Otacon yelled.

Snake growled back at him, absent-mindedly noticing that Psycho was no longer buried under pieces of broken desk. "That's encouraging."

"I seem to remember being in this position before," Josh wheezed. They hit the doors, seeing the ladder from the Kasatka dangling another ten feet ahead and, Josh noticed; Vamp was gone as well. Filing that away for later, he pressed the magic button on his Biolink.

This had the effect of sending Berto into cardiac arrest. "Josh, don't!"

But Max paid him no heed. "Going turbo!"

With that, he grabbed Snake around the waist, jumped... and passed out in midair. Fortunately, Snake caught him and the ladder, prompting Kat to jerk the Kasatka away immediately.

Inside Metal Gear's maintenance bay, the counter reached zero, setting off the conventional weapons of REX's payload. The fuel ignited when one missile actually managed to launch itself and spiral down into the pool rising from the floor, and, as explosions typically do, destroyed REX and the entire underground facility.

The shock wave of the entire stockpile going off bubbled up through the elevator shaft and managed to punch through the roof of the building; some of it ran off and blew out the front doors, passing harmlessly under the Kasatka.

"One day," Kat surveyed the now burned-out building, "we'll learn how not to cause extensive property damage."

And hanging down from the chopper, Snake wondered how the hell he was supposed to climb up a rope ladder with one hand, while carrying a thoroughly unconscious Max Steel.

"I need a cigarette."

---

Slamming his laptop closed so hard it nearly snapped, Otacon fell back into his seat, tore his glasses off, massaged his eyes, and finally remembered to breath. "Thank God that's over."

"Yep," Berto agreed, still typing keys like the world was ending tomorrow. "Now, if I could get this working... have you seen a vial filled with something green and thick lying around?"

"Can't say I have," Otacon put his glasses back on and looked around. "But I'm hungry. Um... is there a McDonalds around here?"

"Even better," Berto raised a finger and reached into a pocket, pulling out a white plastic card emblazoned with the D.O.X. logo. "Go take this to the diner near the bike trail and it's all free."

"'Free' and 'software,'" Otacon reached out for it, "my two favorite words."

"Just bring back something. Actually," Berto decided, "a lot of somethings. They'll be back around suppertime. Is Snake... abrasive when he's hungry?"

Otacon stroked his chin. "Snake's always abrasive."

On his way to the door, a glowing green light caught Otacon's eye. He turned to see a vial filled with green fluid sitting on top of Berto's bed, most likely there due to a simple misplacement. So he picked it up...

...and tried not to vomit when the goop suddenly grew, popped the top of the vial off, and oozed over his hand. "Berto, your mucus."

"Ah hah!" The younger scientist almost squealed, happy to take the vial. "Um... wash your hands before you eat anything. Trust me on this."

"Oh, don't worry, I will."

With that, Otacon left. Berto plugged the vial into one of his machines and ran a scan; the Max Probes were almost ready, all he needed to do was set a specific reproduction algorithm...

Unbeknownst to Berto, Otacon, after having walked about halfway across the parking lot, started to feel eyes on his back. He turned around, but no one was there except for the normal everyday D.O.X. competitors minding their own business and socializing in the afternoon sun.

So he kept walking. And he rounded a corner.

And then a knife landed in the ground in front of him... right in the middle of his shadow.

---

The ref list:

-The login and password to the computer is a reference to Cowboy Bebop.

-Otacon's mucus line is from Ghostbusters.