Metal Gear: Bloody Hands

by Uboa

A companion story to ShardclawKusanagi's "Children of Evangelion." Garland Durev's final mission as a mercenary, and the resulting events that brought him into FOX-HOUND. (COMPLETED!)

12. Chapter 10: FOXHOUND

Disclamer: See the Foreword. Additionally, Michael "Venom" Hansen belongs to Grey Wolf4, Gregory "Psychic Panther" Kinezono belongs to ShardclawKusanagi, James "Silent Scorpion" Masterson and Lieutenant Matthew Reese belongs to RuneKnightPictures, and Riku "Drakken" Hanabashi is DarkFusion's. Nagi Naoe and Tot are from the anime/manga Weiss Kruez, and I do not own that franchise.

Author's Babble: This is it, folks, the final chapter of Bloody Hands. I would like to thank everyone that has read and reviewed this story. As I have stated in the foreword, this is my first ever fanfiction, and I'm very glad it came out so well. This chapter is the longest I've written yet, easily four times larger than the first few chapters. Enjoy, everyone. And thank you. [EDIT: if this particular chapter lacks proper indents, I blame 's document manager. My copies of the story possess the indents, but they didn't show up on the quickedit and preview. If they DO show up, however, then ignore this edit.]

Metal Gear: Bloody Hands

Written by Tempest Dynasty

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Chapter 10: FOX-HOUND

Subchapter 1: Second Doubts

Her smile was beautiful.

Her eyes were like twin flawless gems.

And her lips were…

Damn it stop thinking about that! Garland scolded himself as he recalibrated the sights on the long rifle he was using. Accustomed to bolt-action rifles for long distance shooting, he had chosen an Accuracy International Arctic Warfare Super Magnum sniper's rifle for his long-rifle tests.

Many of FOX-HOUND's requirements were very tough to pass to the average soldier. However, Garland was ex-Special Forces, a mercenary for several years, and had the lifetime's worth of training and refinement. The physical tests were easily passed, Garland having blown through the basics, short-range run, an uninterrupted series of sit-ups, uninterrupted push ups, a fifty-meter freestyle swim test, underwater diving ability, and a lone wilderness march easily, breaking well over the required aspects. Intelligence tests were easy as well, due to Garland's education and experience in the field. The one that gave him the most trouble was the psychological tests. Would they figure out that he was a Berserker? Would he be rejected because of that? Was his mental strength strong enough? Several professional psychologists answered his questions: superb mental health and strength. Some trauma due to combat experiences, but it was perfectly acceptable.

After the exams, came the training drills. Several of them such as battlefield survival and language were bypassed, since he did not need the training. Overall, FOX-HOUND's training was like an intense refresher course of his old KSK days, as well as a few new things such as field medic certification and nautical control. The martial arts portion was a joke, however. Against FOX-HOUND's best hand-to-hand combat trainer, Garland defeated him in record time without receiving a blow to himself.

Now was Garland's marksmanship training, a required 95% for targets beyond 900 meters. Although proficient in most small arms of the world, he was not the best shooter. Decent with a pistol, submachine-gun, and rifle, he could compete with some of the best soldiers in the world, but he was no sniper. It would not matter, anyways, since many of his trainers agreed that Garland would most likely become a close-quarters-combat specialist.

Sighting his target once again, he paused a moment to steady his aim. The scope was calibrated based on distance, gravity, wind speed and direction, and position of target. A single .338 Lapua armor piercing magnum round sat in the chamber, eager to fly.

Will she be like Ashley? Would she betray the former mercenary as Ashley had, completely destroying his heart in an act of deception, manipulation, and torture? Painful memories of a torture room, heat and cold, severe nausea, drugs, electrocution, whips, those cold hateful eyes…

He suppressed a shudder. Even now, several years after that particular incident, the pain was still there. Oddly, none of the memories had surfaced until recently. Those thoughts must have been suppressed very well…

Ashley Moore, code name "Dead Illusion," another mercenary like Garland, with a nasty way of getting rid of competition. She was also Garland's first girlfriend, until that night…

Suddenly, the humanoid target looked like Ashley, her brown hair cascading around her deceptively innocent and beautiful face and down her back. She was smiling the same way she had so long ago—a charming smile that hid suppressed cruelty. The image went blurry, and solidified into Maggie's image. Slowly, agonizingly, the images shifted back and forth. Why? Why was he seeing this? Past and future, guilty and innocent, betrayer and… friend…

With gentle squeeze of the trigger, the rifle barked loudly and spat out the magnum, load. With a clang, it pierced the thin metal target easily.

Headshot.

The images disappeared instantly, exorcised by the gun. But before they had fade away, it had appeared as a hybrid of the two women, possessing the best traits of both of them.

Garland did not realize he had tears in his eyes until an instructor told him to clean up and pack up. Wordlessly, he did so, returning the weapon and extra ammunition to the quartermaster. After receiving his results (which were passing), he found himself in an empty hallway, shivering despite the comfortable temperature. Hugging himself slightly, he allowed the tears to build, the pain to come and go, a weakness to reveal itself. Never again did he want to experience such tragedy and suffering, the terrible pain that ripped at his heart. But loneliness was a powerful force, something Garland had been fighting off for many years.

She could be another Ashley, you know. A dark voice echoed in his mind.

I hope to God not.

How do you know she isn't?

I don't. But I'm willing to give her a chance.

Don't regret it later…

"Garland? Are you okay?" Maggie's voice came from down the hall. Garland looked up to see her walking towards him, dressed in civilian clothing.

"I'll be fine. I don't what came over me, but it's fading away."

"You've been training too hard and too long without a break," she soothed. "C'mon. You've received a four-hour leave, so let's go get some lunch, alright?"

"Yeah, that sounds great. Let me shower and change, and I'll meet you at the motor pool."

"Gotcha. See you then!" she smiled and walked away.

No, I don't think she's anything like Ashley…

Be careful, nonetheless.

Hmm…

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Subchapter 2: Codename

"Mr. Durev, I would like to personally congratulate you on your accomplishment. I had no doubts of your passing, but you have thoroughly impressed me and the other officers. On the behalf of every member of this organization, welcome to FOX-HOUND," an old but still going strong man in class-A uniform announced to Garland. Along with three other officers, the leader of the reformed FOX-HOUND, Colonel Campbell, shook hands with the newly admitted soldier.

"Thank you, Colonel. I hope to be great use to you all," Garland had to keep it formal, neat, and grateful sounding.

"Now that you are an official member of FOX-HOUND, you will be assigned a room, Codec implants, and free access to the virtual training room. You will also be assigned a code name based on your abilities and skills," the only person Garland disliked in the room, Lieutenant Matthew Reese, spoke up and looked over a piece of paper. "Your code name will be, due to your unique skills, Berserker Demon."

Garland said nothing, but instead raged internally. This fool was openly mocking him by giving him such a name…

The Colonel looked up and whispered to the former mercenary, "Don't mind him, he's a jerk to everyone."

That didn't do much to calm him, but he would have to deal with it.

"Thank you, sir."

"You have several missions already lined up, so suit up and meet here in ten minutes. I will brief you personally," Lt. Reese smiled. "You're FOX-HOUND now, and you should be prepared for any mission and any time. Dismissed."

"Permission to speak freely?"

"Sure."

"What about the Codec implants?"

"You won't need them where you're going. Now get moving. I dislike late soldiers."

"Yes, sir."

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Subchapter 3: Familiarity

Three years passed since Garland's initiation into FOX-HOUND. During those three years, he had been on a total of thirty-six missions; the bothersome Lieutenant Reese gave thirty of those assignments. Not being one to desire conflict, Garland said nothing but took on the mission each time. Every month there was something for him to do, even if there were other better qualified soldiers for the job. His most recent job was one of the worst examples: Garland was given the job to be a counter-sniper during a rather prominent parade featuring several important government executives. Rather than assigning an actual FOX-HOUND sniper, Lieutenant Reese called for the close-combat specialist Garland Durev to be the anti-sniper. Despite not even having a spotter assist in his job, he was still able to locate, isolate, and eliminate twelve hostile snipers.

When he returned to base, he got nothing more than a berate from the officer.

"You should have gotten all of them faster, grunt," was all Reese had to say, obvious angered at the fact that once again Garland had risen up to the challenge and actually beat it.

Also, during his absence it seemed that four new recruits had passed and joined the ranks of FOX-HOUND. The recruits were unfamiliar with the martial artist, and immediately saw him as a "newbie." They would all learn that he was not.

One day, on a whim, Garland entered the small library/research center of FOX-HOUND headquarters. There were many computers available, and they were chock full of digitized novels, but they could not replace good old-fashioned books. He was surprised to find another person in the library, a person that seemed rather familiar. The mystery person seemed to detect Garland and he looked up.

"Oh, hello. I haven't seen you around here. Are you new?"

"Hey. No, I've actually been apart of FOX-HOUND for three years now, but I've been on missions for a while."

"I see, so you're my senior?"

"I guess you could say that. I'm Garland Durev, codename 'Berserker Demon.'"

"That's it! I knew I saw you from somewhere. I'm Michael Hansen AKA 'Venom.'"

"Right, you were that new guy with Team Ikari and Heidern. Interesting to see you here. Did something happen with Heidern and them?"

"No, I just felt like going off on my own."

"I see. Hey, you like chess? I'm pretty bored and I could use a good partner."

Michael smiled and nodded, "Of course. I love chess."

"Excellent. I call white."

Quickly and efficiently the two soldiers set up their respective pieces across the table. It was going to be one of the many games played in the future.

"So why did you join FOX-HOUND?" Garland moved his pawn.

"I got an invite from Campbell. Apparently my skills were in need, and since I had nowhere else to go, I accepted," Michael countered with his own pawn.

"Hmm… Same way I got here. It's nice to see a familiar face, especially one that I have no doubt is experienced."

"Thanks for your confidence. At least one person thinks so."

"Let me guess, Reese?"

"Is he that notorious?"

"Worse. Ever since I joined I've been on a mission every month. Reese assigned Ninety percent of those missions, and they were all not suited for me. I'm a close-combat specialist and an instructor for FOX-HOUND, yet Reese wants me to be 'good all-around.' Heck, the last mission I was on I had to be a counter-sniper against professional assassins. You don't send a CQC specialist on a sniping mission."

"I see. Check."

"Wha? Already? Damn," Garland quickly shifted a piece.

"Any other warnings?"

"Yeah. I'm the hand-to-hand combat instructor. I'm not nice to anyone."

"Haha, I'll keep that in mind."

"Check."

"What goes around, comes around…" Michael murmured as he took a moment to strategize.

"There's another person in FOX-HOUND you might like."

"Oh?" Venom shifted his bishop.

"Maggie Thompson, a good friend of mine. She loves chess more than I do…" Berserker Demon used his rook in response.

"Great, I'll have to hunt her down then."

"Are there many other recruits?"

"Yes, sir. There are a lot of younger people coming in."

"Really? You worried about them?"

"Not really. If they could make it into FOX-HOUND I'm sure they can survive out in the battlefield."

"Do they have much experience?"

Michael sighed, breaking his focus from the game, "That's their biggest weakness. Despite having the latest and greatest of VR simulation technology, nothing can replace actual experience."

"Well then, it'll be up to us older guys with actual experience to guide them."

"I won't let them fail."

"You'd make a good father, Hansen."

The younger man didn't say anything, suddenly lost in a storm of memories.

"It could have…"

"Hansen," that brought him out of his thoughts. "I'm sorry if I brought back any bad memories."

"No, no, it's okay. It was actually a good memory…"

"I'm sure you'll find someone that needs you. All you need to do is wait."

"But for how long?"

"…I can't answer that. But I feel that it's soon."

"You know what? I believe you," the two soldiers shared a laugh.

The game continued on for nearly an hour, neither man getting the upper hand. Pieces were lost, sacrificed, and gained. Finally, Michael trapped Garland's king in a three-way ambush. A rook, a pawn, and a knight prevented the king's escape.

"Checkmate."

"Damn. Good game, Hansen."

"Please, call me Michael. All my friends do."

"Very well. Shall we play again?"

"Could we? I haven't had a game like that in a while."

Garland smiled, and reset his pieces.

A bond of brotherhood through mutual understanding.

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Subchapter 4: Revelation

"Have you ever even approached the VR battle system?" Maggie and Garland wandered the halls side-by-side.

"No, I don't find it necessary. Training in real life is more effective for me."

"Oh, come on. If anything, you could set records for people to beat. Give it a try?"

"Alright, if it'll make people train harder…"

"Great!"

The Virtual Reality system was a marvel of modern technology. Unlike civilian-owned VR systems, the modern military had full-sense immersion systems that affected every part of the human body, even the sense of smell. By strapping into the system, one could be instantly be transported into a fully rendered virtual world that seemed as real as the actual world. Even pain is transmitted, so the experience is as close to the real thing as possible.

With Maggie at the main controls, Garland situated himself into the VR system.

"We'll start with some of the basic missions first, then begin on the more specialized ones."

"Yes ma'am."

Garland closed his eyes, felt the world shift slightly as the system started up. When he opened his eyes, the dark VR room was replaced by a gray floor-wall world with random bits of digital data flying around the "sky."

"The sky is something everyone is too lazy to fix, so we just stick with it. Anyways, your objective is to reach the marker at the end of the level without getting spotted. Neutralizing or disabling guards is acceptable, but it will cost you time. The faster you go, the better your score."

"Gotcha."

"Would you like to spend some time getting used to everything?"

"No, I think I'll be fine."

"Alright. This is the first no-weapon sneaking level. Good luck!"

"Heh…"

Garland immediately sprinted, turning the corner to see a single guard facing the opposite direction. Before the digital guard even had a chance to turn and look down the hallway, Garland had already closed the space between them and launched a flying jump kick that smashed the guard into unconsciousness. Not even taking a moment to turn, he leapt sideways and landed on the end marker. The world suddenly blinked away, leaving him floating in a sea of flying words.

"Wow, that was pretty damn awesome, Garland. Your run broke the record! Most people take time to throw the guard then run."

"Really? I guess I'm good at making split-second decisions. What's next?"

"I'm sure you'll get bored with this quickly, so we're moving on to pistol."

"Nah, I want to try that unarmed test."

"Alright, if you say so. Loading up One Minute Battle, versus targets. Your targets will be these things," A human-sized green object appeared before Garland, looking like a tall pyramid with a polyhedron on top. "You have one minute to destroy as many as possible."

"Heh. Sounds fun. Load it up."

The ground solidified, a large square arena devoid of anything.

"Ready? There's a record set for this one, so try and break it. Start!"

Several objects appeared around the martial artist, only to disappear in a shatter of digital glass as he struck them all. Normally, it would require an average of three hits to destroy the targets as a measure of strength. However Garland was not the average soldier, and his strength was well above a FOX-HOUND grunt's. As a result, it only took one or two hits to destroy a target. To onlookers, Garland seemed to move with fluid grace and purposeful step, a dance that was beautiful yet deadly at the same time. Each blow

"That…" his controller was speechless for a moment. "That was amazing! You smashed the record completely!"

"Yo, Boss Lady! Who's the new guy?" a new voice filtered through.

"That's 'Berserker Demon,' Greg. He just obliterated your record."

"What?! I don't believe that. Tell him I'm meeting him in there a few seconds!"

"Hmm… hear that, Garland? You'll be getting a real live opponent soon. He's one of the new recruits, and rather good in hand-to-hand and psychic combat. Be nice!"

Garland could swear he saw her smirking at him, "Roger that, 'Boss Lady!'"

Suddenly a swarm of pixels began to form several yards away from him. The little blocks of data were coming together to form a young man in his mid twenties. Light brown skin and short thick black hair, only his head was visible due to a large cloak that covered the rest of his body. Despite having no wind in the VR world, the cloak seemed to billow gently.

"Garland Durev, I challenge you to a fight!" he said with fierce brown eyes.

"I accept. You have me at a disadvantage, however. I do not know your name," Garland responded while subtly shifting in to a relaxed stance, one hand in a pocket of his combat uniform. To the chagrin of Lieutenant Reese and a few soldiers, Garland kept with his mercenary equipment and tools, finding them much more useful and comfortable than the standard issue Skull Suit, weapons, etcetera.

"Kinezono. Gregory Kinezono. Also known as 'Psychic Panther!'" The nonexistent wind seemed to blow harder.

"'Psychic Panther, eh? FOX-HOUND's newest psychic soldier. I've heard about you."

"Yeah? I'm surprised that a new guy like you would know that already. I didn't see you at my introduction, nor around the base. Did you come in recently?"

"You could say that."

"You broke my record. Now I have to see how good you really are!"

"I'm ready anytime you are."

"One moment, I want some music," Greg looked to the sky. "Hey, Boss Lady! Play me Rammstein's Feuer Frei!"

Seconds later, the guitar rifts of the song blasted throughout the digital world.

"Heh. Alright kid, show me what you got!" Garland slid into a relaxed Jeet Kune Do ready position.

"Hmph. You're gonna be sorry for calling me 'kid,' old man!" Greg gripped his cloak and ripped it away, revealing him to be wearing a white jacket, a black shirt with a white line stitched vertically and horizontally across it, making a cross. Jeans and boots completed his lower body attire, and black gloves with a burning sun motif adorned his hands. He then slipped into a familiar stance.

"Kyo Kusanagi fan, eh? Good…"

"Eh? You know him?"

"We'll talk after we fight. Deal?"

Greg smirked, "Deal."

Neither fighters were fools nor impatient. They stared each other down for several moments, a sense of electricity hanging in the air. In the control room, a small crowd of soldiers gathered around the video screen to watch the battle. Several even began to bet who would win.

Suddenly, the fight began. With a short battlecry Greg charged forward with a fierce punch that forced Garland into the defensive. Having nothing less other than to block, the German-American retreated. Greg's charge continued, the punch chaining into a series of quick blows that kept Garland busy. A final kiai Greg threw a kick that broke through Garland's defense and smashed into his left cheek.
Ha! Take that! Greg smirked in victory as his kick forced his opponents head to the side. His smirk died a horrible death when Garland's head slowly turned to face him once again.

"Nice hit. Fast, accurate, strong. You'll do just fine," it was Garland's turn to smirk. He grabbed the offensive leg in a vice-like grip and spun around, pulling the leg to throw Greg over his shoulder. The younger man reacted in time to recover from the throw, but he was surprised when a fist shot out to catch him in the chest. So much force was in that single punch that Greg was sent soaring several yards away. Greg skidded several feet before flipping up to regain his footing while giving Garland a look of shock.

"How do you like my 'Demon Hand,' Kinezono? A whole lot of power in a quick punch," Garland held up his hand; it seemed to have a faint red glow.

Shit, he threw me with only one hand, and then punched with the other! Greg thought as he prepared himself.

Garland dashed in, throwing a quick punch at Greg's head to test his defenses. Instead of blocking, however, Greg stretched his hands out and grabbed Garland's fist, using the former mercenary's momentum to bring him up over his head.

"Too easy!" Greg shouted and slammed Garland onto the ground. Not being one to waste time, Garland sweeped from his prone position to trip the dark-skinned man then brought his other leg up to kick Greg's falling body. As his opponent went flying away, Garland took the time to jump up and ready his assault once more. Not even given a chance to breathe, Greg was suddenly assaulted by a flurry of kicks; Garland had leapt into the air and brought his right leg around into a forward spin kick, followed by a spinning heel kick, and ending with a short heel drop. But before Garland could continue his attack, Greg rolled backwards away from his opponent.

"Not bad, not bad at all," Greg acknowledged, and brought his right hand down to his side. "Now try this! Urusee!" He shot forward as if throwing a mighty punch. However his hand had changed shape, melting from a humanoid hand into an armor-piercing drill. Unlike actual combat, lethal moves and weapons could be utilized in virtual reality combat, as proven by Greg's use of his special attack.

"Hmm, a unique skill," Garland simply stood there and waited for the attack to come. At the last possible moment, he shifted his body to the side, dodging the attack entirely. His hand shot out as the drill arm passed his chest, grabbing the forearm and pulling it downwards in a circular motion. As a result, Greg was sent sprawling to the ground, his attack rendered completely useless. As Greg flopped, Garland took the time to create a small gap between them, no longer in the defensive.

"Get up, kid. You'd be dead if this was real combat."

"I'm not a kid, damn it!" he was getting emotional.

Good.

Garland rushed in again, a plan formulating in his head. As he got close, he punched forward again; if he was right…

Kinezono countered Garland's punch once again, pulling his opponent high into the air.

"Take a seat!"

"After you," Garland hooked his other hand around Greg's neck, still moving forward from his attack. Twisting his other hand loose, it too wrapped around Greg's head and neck. Garland flipped over his opponent, combining the momentum of his leap with his own strength to pick up Greg and throw him forward.

Up above, Maggie and an even larger crowd of FOX-HOUND soldiers clustered around the viewing screen.

"Good God. He just countered a counter!" spoke up one of the men.

"'Guillotine Throw…'" murmured a young man in the back dressed in traditional Ninja gear, seemingly familiar with the technique.

"Looks like Greg's met his match," an even younger person with a PSG-1 rifle slung on his back spoke up.

"I hope he's alright," an extraordinarily attractive Indian-Japanese woman said as she peered into the screen.

"Greg's getting back up!"

Back in the digital battlefield, Garland had raced after his flying adversary. After slamming into the invisible wall surrounding the battlefield, Greg slid down swimming in pain. He had been thrown with such force that he could not recover in time, and so took the hit full on. Despite the soreness, he stood shakily and staggered forward.

"I'm… I'm not finished yet!" he yelled as he rushed into the offensive. Punches and kicks rained upon Garland's defense, not one hit breaking through. A low strike brought Garland's arms low, thus giving an opening to his head. Greg took advantage of this breach by lifting his leg high into a devastating heel drop ax kick.

"You are very dedicated, but it takes more than dedication!" Garland snarled as he answered the heel drop with an ax kick of his own. Despite Greg throwing the kick first, Garland's attack smashed into Greg's shoulder long before Greg's foot came down. As a result, the young man crumpled under the mighty blow.

"How did that happen? The kid kicked first!" one of the spectators cried out.

"I see. Greg's heel drop goes straight up, then back down, resulting in two separate moves. But Garland kicked in a circular motion, lifting his leg up and back down in a single move!" one of the more observant soldiers replied.

"Amazing," he summed it up for everyone.

Standing over his fallen opponent, Garland nodded his head in respect to the fighter.

"Sorry, kid, but looks like I win," using his foot like a hook, Garland kicked Greg into the air, only to pummel him relentlessly with rapid-fire punches. The blows seemed to juggle the dark-skinned man in the air, not offering even a moment of respite. A hook to the gut left Greg breathless and dangling in the air by the fist, and the final blow to his head set him flying away, the tiny cubes of data that composed his body scattering. Greg didn't even land when his body completely dissolved. Garland followed soon after, his body dissolving as well.

Several moments later, Gregory Kinezono found himself outside of the VR world, slumped against the console. All the pain and suffering received in the VR world transferred to the real world, but to a lesser degree. Still, the fight left bruises and intense soreness all over. As his vision cleared up, he found Maggie looking over him.

"Well, Greg, you got seriously messed up in there. Any comments?"

"Arrgh," he moaned as he sat straight up. "For a new guy, he hits pretty hard!"

"Ah, well I should have told you. He's not exactly a new recruit."

"Eh? So he didn't come in this month?"

"No, he's been a member of FOX-HOUND since 2007. Garland was on a mission when you and your friends joined."

"Are you serious?"

"She's serious alright, Kinezono," Garland entered the room Greg was in, clad in a black undershirt, army fatigues pants, and boots. "My name's Garland Durev, codename 'Berserker Demon.' I'm also the hand-to-hand instructor for FOX-HOUND."

"Garland Durev? Why does that seem familiar…?"

"I was a mercenary before coming to FOX-HOUND. They called me 'Bloody Hands.'"
Greg blanched. During his days in the U.S. Navy, he had heard stories about legendary mercenaries, especially the one about the unstoppable force of Bloody Hands. The mercenary was said to be a deadly soldier, a powerful fighter, and a masterful martial artist.

"Aww shit. Now they tell me…"

"Cheer up, Kinezono. You're a pretty good fighter, you just tend to underestimate unknown opponents and you get distracted easily. I doubt you'll have need for my instructing, but you'd make a wonderful sparring partner. What do you think?"

"Sparring partner? Heh heh, all right. Call me Greg, will ya? I get a feeling we'll be working together very often."

"Of course."

"Well, I think I'm gonna take a nap here and get my energy back. You throw a mean punch, Garland."

"You sure you won't need anything?" Maggie asked as she approached the door.

"I'm sure, Boss Lady."

"Sleep well then."

"Sure."

The lights dimmed, and Greg heard two sets of footsteps exit the room. As the thumps faded away, he reached up to his ear. Accessing his Codec, he switched to a private and secure frequency, one that not even FOX-HOUND's advanced electronics could detect. Several rings later, a green-filtered screen popped up with a beautiful blonde woman centered in it.

"Hey, Greggie! You called? How's FOX-HOUND?"

"Hi, Rio," Greg yawned. "FOX-HOUND's great. The people here are nice and the experience is wonderful."

"Are you alright? You look beat up," Rio Kinezono's brow furrowed in worry.

"I'm fine. I just got my ass handed to me in a spar."

"Whatwhatwhaaaat?! Someone beat you?! How is that possible?"

"I challenged Garland 'Berserker Demon' Durev, the resident close-combat specialist of FOX-HOUND."

"Garland Durev? That sounds familiar…"

"Yeah, I thought the same thing, until he told me his mercenary codename."

"Oh?"

"He was 'Bloody Hands.'"

It took a moment for Rio to recognize the codename. "YOU HAVE THAT GUY ON YOUR TEAM?!" the volume rose so high that the Codec's auto-volume adjustment nearly shorted out.

Greg winced as her voice hurt his hearing, "Yeah, but he's a pretty cool guy. The legends are true—he's one hell of a fighter. I think I could get a lot better with him on my team."

"Hmm… well, just be careful around him. Those military stories are not always exaggerations. His FOX-HOUND and mercenary codenames aren't that assuring, either."

"Don't worry, Rio, I'll be fine. I gotta get going, so I'll call you another time, ok? Tell everyone I said 'Hi!' for me."

"Of course, Greggie. See you around!"

The screen blinked away as the connection severed.

Greg sighed as he settled into a more comfortable position. Garland Durev, legendary mercenary and now a FOX-HOUND specialist. He seemed friendly enough, and had a good feeling about him. His aura was strange though, with a hidden aspect of it buried deeply. The psychic soldier shrugged. He would think about it another time.

Time for sleep.

A bond of brotherhood with their fists as their closest friends.

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Subchapter 5: Recognition

In a lonely firearms range, two people busied themselves. One lay prone behind a Heckler & Koch PSG-1 sniper's rifle, the other just entering the room. As the rifleman finished off a twenty round clip of 7.62x51mm rifle rounds, the second person stopped next to him.
"Very nice shooting you got there, kid. Amazing skills for someone so young," he said as he kneeled down next to the sniper.

The sniper in turn said nothing but slap in a fresh magazine.

"Quiet type, eh? At least give me your name."

"Silent Scorpion," came the muttered reply.

"I see why they call you silent. Your real name, kid."

"I'm not a kid."

"Alright, I'm sorry. So what's your real name?"

"…" he peered into riflescope.

"You're only, what, twelve? And you're a FOX-HOUND soldier. It's not a nice thing to deny a senior operative a request."

"James Masterson."

"Masterson…" he went silent for a moment to think. "Heh. You've grown a lot since Shadow Moses."

His next shot went wide, thrown off target by his surprise. Looking up from his rifle, James looked at his visitor with surprised eyes.

"How did you know…?"

"Private James Masterson of the Next Generation Special Forces. Scout-sniper, most likely trained under Sniper Wolf herself. I learned all this in Shadow Moses."

"You were there?"

"Yep. Do you remember when you were making a last stand at the residence hall, with only you and your rifle left?"

"Yeah, I was very low on ammunition and food supplies, then one day I woke up to find several full clips of rifle ammo and enough rations to last me a while. Then for a while I wondered why no one approached the hall or said anything over the radio."

"Well then, James Masterson, my name is Garland Durev, codename 'Berserker Demon.' At that time, I was a mercenary hired to clean out the Shadow Moses facility. Before reaching the residence hall for my extraction, I found a young boy sleeping rather deeply with a battered rifle clutched protectively in his arms. I was unable to directly assist, but I left what ammo and rations I still possessed and left it next to the kid. Imagine my surprise that several years later, the very same person lays before me behind a very similar rifle."

"I… see… then I have you to thank for. The rations lasted long enough for the sweeper teams to pick me up."

"Ahh don't mention it. I'll be glad to be of help again. So I hear you're a good knife weilder?"

"Yeah? You could say that. Why do you ask?"

"Oh, nothing. Just wondering if you would like to spar sometime, anything goes."

"Oh? I might take you up on that offer. I watched that fight of yours against Greg. Anything goes, so I can use a knife?"

"Correct. I'm sure you're highly skilled sniper and knife-fighter, but it always helps to know unarmed combat."

"I think I understand. Reliance on weapons can be a crutch."

"Absolutely correct. What would happen if you were to be disarmed and left bare-handed? You're welcome to join in on the daily training, if you so wish."

"I'll think about it. Is there anything else?"

"No, not really. I'm here to work on my long range shooting."

"I see."

"Yeah, I prefer bolt-action type rifles myself, but a semi-auto can be useful."

"Bolt-actions are more accurate, but are much slower than a semi-auto."

"Yep, and most of the time you only get one shot."

Garland set up his AW Super Magnum in the station next to James, slapping in a five-round clip of .338 Lapua Magnum rounds into the weapon. Working the bolt to load a round, Garland sighted his weapon and adjusted the scope.

"Acquire your target, take your time, but don't spend too much and lose your target," James suddenly spoke up, still peering down his rifle sights.

"Hmm…"

Two rifles fired simultaneously, a perfect shot from both.

A bond of brotherhood behind the rifle's scope.

------------------------

Subchapter 6: Instruction

Two figures bowed to each other, one garbed in a tight black suit with various weapons slung on, the other wearing a black shirt, army camouflage pants, and boots. The one in the Ninja costume suddenly disappeared in a puff of smoke, only to reappear behind his opponent to deliver an open palm to the back. But his opponent had reacted in time and rolled forward out of the strike zone. Two feet shot out in a donkey kick as the man in camouflage pants counterattacked from his roll, only to smash into a log of wood that appeared in another smoke puff.

The two fighters were outside of the main FOX-HOUND complex, in a wooded area that had a clearing large enough for a good fight. With wooden blades instead of steel, they attacked with blinding speed.

"Dragon Claw Slash!"

"Lightning Blade!"

Two blurs rushed towards each other. With a resounding clack, a wooden sword clashed with a long wooden knife. They held that position for several moments, pushing against each other in a power struggle.

"Not bad, Hanabashi," the larger man smirked behind his knife.

"I told you, Garland, call me Riku," the young ninja returned the smirk.

The fighters broke away suddenly, Riku teleporting with a puff of smoke while Garland simply dashed backwards.

"Bushin!" a cry came out, and Garland found himself surrounded by five copies of his opponent. Each copy readied a different attack, and then struck. One attacked with two kunai shurikens as knives, only to be grabbed and thrown into the path of another copy attacking with a vicious kick, both disappearing in smoke puffs. A third and fourth copy struck simultaneously, one high and one low. Garland countered by kicking low, his leg sweep tripping the low attacker. Continuing his move, Garland brought his leg high to strike the second one, a "Whirlwind" technique that effectively countered the assault. The final copy came down from the trees, his hands grasped together for an overhead hammer blow. Since the third and fourth copies distracted Garland, he was wide open for an attack from above and behind. That theory was crushed when Garland brought his hands up to catch the hammer blow, then redirect the momentum to toss the fifth Bushin hard onto the ground.

All fake… where's the real one? Garland thought as he looked around the battlefield. Something caught his attention, however, and as he gazed at the suspicious object, he suddenly found his body unresponsive.

"What?!" it was as if his limbs were frozen.

"Got you!" Riku came running out from the bushes, a small spark visible in his hands.

"Can't… hold… me… down," Garland muttered as he focused his strength into his mind. "HYAH!" he pushed outward. As if an invisible shell surrounding shattered, Garland discovered that he could move again.

Just as Riku struck forward with his fire-encased fists.

"Heh, you're definitely not a genin," he shifted to the side to avoid one of the attacks. "Not chuunin, either. Definitely jounin."

Reaching his hand out, Garland grabbed the other forearm and pulled it closer, throwing the ninja off balance. A forceful palm blow threw Riku high into the air, practically ten yards into the sky. The former mercenary leaped after him, stopping just below and behind Riku. Hooking his arms under Riku's armpits, Garland brought his opponent upside down into a freakishly fast downward spiral. The velocity and speed of the spin and throw was nauseating, almost blinding to onlookers. Slamming into the hardened ground, Riku landed hard on his neck and upper back, instantly knocking him and leaving an ugly bruise. Fortunately, Garland had held back on the attack—a full powered "Izuna Drop" would have shattered Riku's spine and crushed his neck.

An hour passed before the ninja regained consciousness, sore all over his back and neck.

"Itai! What did you hit me with, Garland? A Mac Truck?"

"Heh. Feels like it, doesn't it? That was the 'Izuna Drop,' something I learned from the Hayabusa ninja clan."

"Hayabusa?! You know them?"

"Sorta. I learned ninjitsu from them. Mostly taijutsu, but they did teach me genjutsu and ninjutsu as well. I just don't use those skills in combat. They're pretty useful when it comes to regular life though."

"Huh. How so?"

"For one thing, you're talking to my clone, Riku," Garland's voice suddenly came from behind him, the martial artist leaping out of a tree.

"Wha?"

"Or, you could be talking to the real me, and that guy over there is a fake," the Garland next to him shrugged.

"Pick, 'Drakken.' Which one is real?" both Garlands said at the same time.

"Neither," the ninja said as he stood up. "Both of you are bushins."

"Correct!" both of them disappeared in a puff of smoke.

"But if you're not here, then…?" Riku glanced around the woods. Suddenly, the ground beneath him exploded in a burst of packed dirt clods. A strong hand wrapped around his ankle and dragged him into the ground. Luckily, Riku had expected a surprise attack, and quickly performed the hand seals for a substitution jutsu. It resulted in a log of wood being trapped under a mound of soil, Riku hidden in a tree, and a dirt-smeared Garland standing next to the log dispersing the smoke.

"Kawarimi. Nice. Okay, in all seriousness, get down here. There's some stuff I want to teach you."

"Really? What can you teach me?" Riku appeared next to Garland, who seemed unfazed at his sudden appearance.

"Two things, actually, and a new weapon for you to use. First, the weapon," the former mercenary reached into a large pouch attached to his belt and pulled out a box. "In here are various types of hollow throwing needles. They're a special kind, with barbs in one end to dig deeply into flesh. If the target tries to yank it out, the flesh is ripped to shreds. And as the hollow pipes are stuck in the flesh, it allows the victim to bleed uncontrollably. Only a professional surgeon can remove one of these 'Vampires,' so choose your targets carefully. Each type of needle has a varying degree of hollowness—some are used as torture devices. Others, to quickly drain the blood out of a target to weaken and eventually kill him or her. Since you throw shuriken rather well, and I don't, I'll give them to you. James is getting a knife version of these things."

"Awesome. What are the other two things?"
"Special techniques, both of them I learned while training with the Hayabusa clan. The first one is the 'Izuna Drop.' You've already witnessed first hand at its power."

"Yeah, pretty deadly. And the other?"

"A secret technique that only those with very good chakra or ki control can perform. Your ninjitsu skills tell me you should be able to actually use it."

"What, you can't do it?"

"Oh, I can, it just doesn't fit my style. But it may work for you. It's called the 'Sky Dragon Demon.'"

"And you're gonna teach me all this?"

"Of course. I'm an instructor as well, and I find teaching fun. Besides, all I can do is make you and them stronger."

"Them?"

"Your dragons. Maggie told me you had eight dragons to your disposal."

"That's right…"

"She also told me that they're the spirits of your ancestors, and are actually good conversation?"

"What? How did she figure that out?"

"She's a necromancer, my friend. She can detect, speak with, and control dead spirits. The only reason she can't affect your dragons is because they have power levels way beyond what she can safely control. If she tried really hard, she could probably hold control for a few minutes, then lose it and unleash a fire dragon outside of all control."

"I see…"

"Anyways, let's get started on the throw first. The first step is to be able to throw or knock the opponent high enough into the air…"

The two warriors spent the rest of the day, night, and the week to complete Riku's special training. As Garland expected, Riku learned both techniques quickly and added his own flair to them.

A bond of brotherhood touched by the shadows.

------------------------

Subchapter 7: Band of Brothers

Murphy's Law states that if something really bad can happen, it will. This holds true for even the best laid plans, in which the smallest things could make a mission go awry.

It was supposed to be a simple training mission, with easy targets, easy objectives, easy everything. The point was to get in, complete the objectives, and get out, giving the recruits some experience in actual combat. Rather than the usual unconventional-warfare FOX-HOUND would normally engage in, they were armed similarly to Special Forces members and sent to neutralize a possible terrorist organization in South America. Everything went smoothly until the first bullet was fired by the enemy. After that, everything promptly went straight to hell.

Instead of the untrained terrorists Intel told the team that they would most likely engage in, the opposing forces seemed to have the grace, accuracy, and cutthroat effectiveness of a Special Forces group. As a result, the FOX-HOUND team consisting of Psychic Panther, Silent Scorpion, Drakken, Venom, and Silver Eagle, with Berserker Demon as a senior observer, was trapped and in deep shit.

"Damn it, stupid grenades!" Panther ducked behind a thick tree trunk, avoiding the spray of lethal shards. As good a martial artist as he was, conventional weapons could still kill him easily, and all around him were professional enemy soldiers.

"Suppression fire. They don't know where we are, so let's keep it that way," Venom had the experience to stay calm despite the constant hail of lethal jacketed lead flying around him.

"I really wish I had brought something more protective," muttered Silver Eagle. The beautiful Linn Aramaki, AKA Silver Eagle, had worn a modified version of the Skull Suit. It maximized comfort (as well as skin exposure) in the hot sweaty forests of South American, but it did only that. While she did have a protective vest on and an AN-94 rifle, it was the shrapnel that exploded around her that hurt the most.

Linn Aramaki. Her very presence in a room made men swoon and everyone had their eyes on her. While Garland did appreciate her appearance, he was not as affected as much as other men, such as a certain psychic soldier. She did however prove to be a quick learner and an avid sparring partner. Working together with the young lady proved to be interesting, since her higher speeds forced Garland to work harder. He was even able to teach her some of his special techniques, that is, after Garland ignored the obvious "distractions" Aramaki would provide by accident. Since Linn was trained in Jeet Kune Do as well as other martial arts, the former mercenary became her favorite teacher, calling him "Master Durev" during practices and training.

But right now was not a very good time to reminisce.

Garland did nothing but survey the carnage. Out of all the present soldiers, he alone possessed the highest level of protection. Whereas everyone else was equipped with the standard issue Skull Suit, a tactical vest, and weapons, Garland was garbed in his mercenary armored combat uniform, complete with metal reinforced gauntlets, boots, and protective plates sewn into the suit. Also breaking from the standard, Garland had a Mossburg 590 combat shotgun instead of an assault rifle. Compared to everyone else, Garland was the outcast.

"Venom. Determine approximate locations of enemy soldiers, and apply point fire with Eagle and Panther. Push them down and draw them away from our marksman. Have Scorpion apply sniper fire to neutralize the targets. Drakken, come with me—ninja time," Garland said over the din of gunfire. Drakken slung his advanced FN F2000 over his shouldered and followed Demon into the forest.

"Roger. Panther, set up your auto-rifle by that tree—stay under cover and suppress in my direction," Venom pointed. "Eagle, go with Panther and assist, burst fire only. Scorpion, you have green light. Fire at will."

"Gotcha," Panther hefted the squad automatic weapon: an FN Minimi in paratrooper configuration. He leaned out from his position and squeezed the trigger, releasing long bursts of hot lead.

"Yes," Eagle agreed and kneeled next to the automatic-rifleman, taking advantage of her weapon's special two-shot burst.

"On it," Scorpion had already set up his rifle and was actively searching the foliage for the enemy. As for Venom, he jumped behind another thick tree trunk and replied with his G36C.

Several seconds passed of futile shooting, but the firing did its job. The enemy had ceased to shoot back, the volume of firepower overwhelming and pushing them back. Then suddenly, each of the operators' radios crackled to life. In addition to their Codecs, encrypted radios were issued to allow quick relaying of messages.

"Cease fire—OpFor neutralized. We have flanked the enemy and caught them unawares. The area is secure, but we don't have much time. Get to my position double time!" Demon told everyone.

When the group finally got back together, their provisional commander informed them of some bad news.

"Take a knee, everyone. We found something rather disturbing," Demon waited for everyone to relax slightly. "The OpFor is not the enemy we expected. They are a mix of former military soldiers and even Special Forces. Their uniforms are mixed, but I recognize Spetznaz as some of their badges. I would not be surprised if there are mercenaries here as well. Eyes open at all times, understood? I'll be taking command, with Venom as my second. This mission's gone to hell, and my job as an observer is over. I don't care if Reese gets on my ass for this, I'm bringing everyone back alive."

"With you all the way," Panther gave his leader a thumb's up, a sentiment that was echoed among the soldiers.

"Good. From here on I will refer to you all as Alpha team. Let's move, Alpha. Quickly but quietly. We're FOX-HOUND, not your average Spec. Ops."

Together, they stood and moved, already a band of brothers (and a sister).

Several hours later they reached a clearing in the forest. In the center was a large concrete building and surrounding it were leafy green crops. The forest canopy was false, making the illusion of an uninterrupted rainforest tree line. Since the building also cranked out heat, many thermal cameras on spy planes and satellites were fooled. But for a small strike team of elite soldiers…

"Tch. They didn't expect a small force capable of reaching this far," the team leader muttered as he surveyed the area with his "ODIN" headset. "They're growing opium and marijuana in controlled climate facilities, so this is probably going to be a massive drug bust for us. Scorpion, set up here and observe enemy movements, weapons on hold, understand? I'll give you green light when appropriate. Report any suspicious activity and give us recon."

"Understood," the young man got prone and prepared his rifle, replacing the usual scope with something more suited for reconnaissance work.

"The rest of you, we move at dusk, so get some rest. I'll take first watch with Scorpion."

Dusk seemed to come too quickly. True to his training under Sniper Wolf, Silent Scorpion had held his position for nearly four hours without moving, wide awake the entire time. As the group prepared for their nighttime assault, a quick overview of the mission was held.

"Remember, lady and gentlemen, we are to go in, neutralize all hostile forces, and remove ourselves without the enemy making too much of a commotion. Scorpion will be our all-seeing eye, but he's only one person, so we cannot totally rely on him. Watch yourselves and each other, show them what FOX-HOUND really is, and we'll get back home just fine. Scorpion, any complications walking about?"

"We have guards walking around with night vision gear, but they don't seem to be constantly wearing them. No search lights either. There are enemy snipers on the roof with NVGs as well, but I can take them out without much of a hassle. They're pros, though. Constant radio reports and conversations among guards will make getting in difficult."

"Wonderful. Scorpion, you have green light until we get inside. Keep those guards off our backs."

"Roger," yet, he didn't fire a shot. Smart boy, since shooting now would alarm every guard in the area because of a premature death.

"Pack it up, Alpha. Time to go."

Professionals as they all were, they disappeared into the forest like ghosts into the night.

------------------------

Subchapter 8: "D"

"God damn it! Demon! Get Eagle and get her some aid! Panther, Drakken, full suppression!" Venom, Drakken and Psychic Panther leapt out from their cover and unleashed hell down the hall, three guns spitting fire together. As Berserker Demon rushed in under the cover of ally fire, he prepared a collection of painkillers, bandages, and his knife. He reached Silver Eagle without much difficulty, but the girl was bleeding steadily and messily from a wound in her shoulder, shrapnel wounds on her leg, and a cut upon her brow.

"Hey, little lady, doing alright?" Demon spoke gently despite the carnage around him.

"I'll be fine, but this is gonna leave a scar," in spite of the pain, Eagle took it all with a grimace.

"Not when I'm done with it. You'll be fine, just relax," he soothed and began to cut away the bloody areas. In order to effectively treat her wounds, Demon would have to cut away portions of Eagle's Skull Suit and allow for easy access and cleaning. However this also exposed her more sensitive regions, something Greg did not like, but would have to deal with it—he was of more help by shooting his gun and keeping the enemy off Demon and Eagle.

Infiltration was easy enough, but the inside was what threw everything to complete chaos. Unlike the outside, where former soldiers patrolled the area and provided Silent Scorpion with easy targets, the inside was full of plant workers and professional mercenaries. And they were not your average mercenaries, either. These were all mercenaries like Garland Durev: deadly and ruthless on the job and possessing extreme skills. Because of the groups overall inexperience, they were discovered quickly and soon faced the entire facility's forces. During an escape phase, a few lucky shots pierced Silver Eagle's shoulder and ankle, and threw her off balance, thus creating the current scenario.

Demon had finished extracting the bullets with his knife and applied bandages, covering the wounds as well as wrapping up her exposed body, and then brought the both of them under some protective cover.

"Good. The painkillers will kick in soon, and the scarring will be minimal—if anything, it'll leave thin and faint white marks."

"Thanks, Demon. You're—"

"Shit! Grenade!" he covered her with his body, taking the brunt of the fragmentation device.

"That was close," Eagle sighed, "You saved me again… oh, God." Her eyes widened as they focused on a wicked looking piece of shrapnel buried deeply into her leader's side.

"Ahh, damn that hurts… They're gonna keep chucking grenades at our position, and we can't move like this," Demon winced as he shifted his body, intense lances of pain shooting up his side.

"They're gonna run out of bullets," Eagle couldn't tear her gaze away from Demon's injury.

"Damn it… I swore I would bring everyone back alive…" he hissed as more blood leaked out. "Drakken! Get over here and take Eagle! DO IT NOW!"

The ninja complied immediately, shadow stepping to their position and taking hold of Eagle.

"What about you?" Drakken looked at his teacher and friend worriedly.

"You'll find out. Now get moving!"

The teenager nodded, and in a feat of incredible agility and chakra control, bolted and ran on the walls back into cover.

Demon then reached for his radio and relayed his message, "Cease fire and get back under cover. Don't get in my way."

"What?! Are you insane? You'll die out there!" Venom spat back.

"I know that. That's what I'm counting on…"

"You ARE nuts! What about your promise? Everyone goes home, remember?!" Panther yelled this time.
"Yeah, and we will."

"What the hell are you planning on doing?" Ahh, Drakken. Still worried.

"My power, my curse. I'll show everyone why they call me Berserker Dem—" he was silenced as another grenade went off near him, his body slumping heavily into the corner he was leaning in and the radio clacking out of lifeless hands.

"NO! FUCK!" Venom screamed as he witnessed his friend's fate. But then, the impossible happened. The Berserker Demon twitched, dead eyes opening to reveal red, and slowly, he stood. An enemy soldier ran down the hall, intent on catching the FOX-HOUND soldiers as they hid just past the corner. He was suddenly stopped as a metal plated hand clamped onto his face. Adrenaline-boosted strength picked up the hapless mercenary, bringing him face to face with the Demon. A sadistic grin suddenly graced his features, and he crushed the soldier's head into a gory mass with that one hand. The bloody fist swung with incredible speed to smash into the concrete wall he stood against, creating a five-inch indent-crater in the shape of his hand, massive cracks spreading out from it.

"GRRRRRRUUUUUUUUUUUUUUAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!" an absolutely terrifying cry erupted forth, sending overwhelming feelings of intense fear and dread to all that heard it. The gunfire stopped, their fingers frozen in fright. The enemy mercenaries did not realize it until it was too late.

They had unleashed the Berserker.

Outside, Scorpion continued his constant visual over the entire facility. Showing great discipline despite his urges, he had yet to fire a single shot, patiently waiting for green light. He knew that if he were to fire whatever and whenever, everyone would die needlessly. His teacher not only taught him how to fire a gun and to be one of the best snipers, but also the importance of following orders and helping his allies. It worried him though, that his comrades had not reported anything since they went in, and those guards seemed to be twice as jumpy as they were.

All of a sudden, a portion of the facility's walls exploded in a fireball of burning gasses. Bodies flew out as if they were thrown and even severed limbs found flight. Men ran out of the building screaming in fear and panic. Of what, Scorpion could not tell. He was delighted, however, when his radio crackled to life.

"Scorpion, we're getting out, now! Shit's hit the fan, Demon is down and Eagle is injured, and we're hauling ass out. You have green light, take them all out!" the sniper recognized the voice as Venom's.

"Yes," he replied and squeezed the trigger once, twice, thrice, four, five times. His clip ran dry, so he swapped it out with a high-capacity magazine; instead of five shots, he now had twenty. His PSG-1 spat out round after round, taking down every target that entered his scope. When he saw four of the five FOX-HOUND soldiers run out, his attention immediately shifted to them, giving the group protective sniper fire. Seeing that they were relatively safe, he packed up and ran down to meet them.

"What's going on? I heard nothing over the squawk ever since you guys went in," Scorpion rejoined his group.

"Demon… he really is a demon," muttered Drakken, looking dazed from the experience.

"Huh?"

"No, that can't be Garland. Not THAT monster!" Panther muttered in disbelief, cradling the bandaged Linn in his arms. "So much anger and hatred…"

Screaming repentance and begging for mercy, a gibbering soldier stumbled out from the building and ran passed the FOX-HOUND group, too frightened to realize that he just ran past his enemies. A blur zipped out just behind him, solidifying into a blood covered Berserker Demon as he landed on top of the running soldier. With a feral snarl, metal hands dug deeply into the man's face, and with a sharp tug, ripped the head completely off, the still-attached spine whipping around wildly. Slowly, torturously, the Berserker's crimson eyes locked on to the FOX-HOUND recruits.

"Oh, God…" Eagle dropped to her knees and promptly threw up all over the ground, severely nauseated by the amount of blood covering her friend.

Although reluctant to do so, the recruits brought their weapons up to bear on the vicious one.

"Heh heh heh, you would shoot even your own ally?" Demon's usual smooth bass was replaced by a dark and hoarse hiss.

"Garland, snap out of it! What's wrong with you?"

"Sorry, but he isn't here now," his blood-smeared face contorted into a wicked smirk.

"Who are you then, if you're not the one we know?" Venom spoke diplomatically.

"Haha… 'D.'"
"D?"

"Are you deaf? I dislike repeating myself… Hmm… there are still fools alive inside."

"Wait!"

"No. They will all die. Follow me, and die with them," D turned and walked back into the building. Although the recruits were outside, they could easily hear the cries of horror and pain as the Berserker plowed through them all.

Almost thirty minutes passed, then the facility was silent. No screaming, no yelling, no cries for help. Only the crackle of fire and heavy breathing was heard.

"What now? Do we wait?" Panther looked at Venom.

"If the legends are true, he'll come outside to meet us. You can't stop what is unstoppable."

"…Yeah."

And as if emphasizing that point, a single figure walked out of the burning building. First appearing as a silhouette, the image cleared into a familiar face. Slowly, Berserker Demon approached the resting group. He was not surprised when they looked at him with fearful eyes and twitchy trigger fingers.

"Hey guys, sorry about that," he raised his hands disarmingly. "I'm back though."

Understandably, they were lingering in dropping their guards.

He sighed sadly; his body drooped tiredly as breath left his lungs. Their silence was more painful than the most powerful of punches.

"Ah… forget it. Venom, lead us home. I'll stick in the rear."

The recruits looked at each other for a moment, sharing a silent moment, then looked back at the blood-covered man.

"Begging your pardon, sir, but you're the team leader, and I wouldn't trust anyone more than you to show us the way," Venom spoke up.

"You think you can scare us off that easily? Hell no. We're with you all the way," Panther had that friendly yet vicious smirk.

"It's no problem, we all know who you really are," Eagle's smile made it all worth it.

"You have my complete trust, sir," Drakken added his two cents.

"Ah. Thank you very much. None of you realize how relieved I feel," Berserker Demon smiled and nodded. "Alright, FOX-HOUND, we move out now. Pick up is a few miles south of here, and we'll call in for dust off. Let's go."

Not even the legendary Berserker could ruin this bond.

------------------------

Subchapter 9: Debriefing

"So, Mr. Durev. How do you rate each recruit's ability on the field?"

"As a team, their bond is unbreakable. They complement each other very well. I would suggest that they be deployed together should the mission require it."

"Noted. And their individual skills?"

"Venom is a skilled hand-to-hand fighter and a marksman, but his greatest skill is his mind. He is among the best tacticians I've met. When not operating in the field, I recommend that he be placed in support teams or as a mission commander.

"Silent Scorpion is a sniper among snipers—he is the next Sniper Wolf. In addition to his flawless long-range capability, he can also fight very well at close range. However, it would be best for him to receive some urban combat training. At medium range he is the weakest—too close for his rifle but too far for his knives.

"Psychic Panther is fiercely protective of his team, which can be detrimental or beneficial, depending on the situation, but he is very smart, and knows what to do. He is also skilled in close combat, and can work alone or with a team very well. I was told he had other skills as well, but I was unable to witness them. However his long range is lacking, so some extra training is suggested.

"Drakken is a superb stealth fighter and his weapon use is extremely deadly. He can be deployed as a solo operative or in a team. However I suggest more training with the experienced men. He hasn't killed much in his life until recently, and I'm worried about his mental health.

"Silver Eagle is fast. Deadly fast. However just like Drakken she lacks experience. She's a good shot and dependable soldier, as well as a good hand-to-hand fighter, she just needs experience and more training.

"That is all for my report, sir," Garland saluted Colonel Campbell.

"It's great that you completed your mission and brought everyone back home, but I have serious issues with your behavior, Durev," Lieutenant Reese decided to cut in. "You were assigned as an observer, not an active member of their team. Yet you deliberately acted on your own accord to affect the mission. You disobeyed orders, soldier."

"Sir, I did what was necessary. The mission had gone to hell and they needed someone with battlefield experience and familiarity with FOX-HOUND operations."

"Hansen is an experienced soldier, just like you. You should have left it to him to finish the job."

"As true as it may be, I was not about to stand back and watch the team fumble around. They needed a senior officer and a junior officer. Hansen filled the junior spot very well."

"That still doesn't explain why you disobeyed orders!"

"They could have died out there if I just stood back and watched!"

"The OpFor was only terrorists!"

"Terrorists with Special Forces training, and the guards inside were professional mercenaries! The Intel we received from you told us they were just civilians with guns!"

"Shut up! You disobeyed orders and you will be punished for it!"

By now, Reese had jumped out of his chair in a red-faced rage and was close enough to Garland for him to smell his breath.

"And what about the facility? You were to go in, do your job, and get out! Not cause thousands in property damage and the slaughter of everyone in the building!"
"That was outside of my control."

"Bullshit! You did something, I know it. You purposely did all this shit just to show off, eh, merc?"

"I'm not a mercenary any more. I am FOX-HOUND."

"There's also the matter of a casualty. Aramaki was injured, wasn't she? Why couldn't you prevent that?"

"I am not a bullet shield, sir. It was outside of my control."

"You could have done something! You already took control of the team!"

"What do you expect me to do? Take the bullets for her?"

"I expect you to obey your God damn orders!!"

"A soldier that disobeys orders is trash," Garland started.

"That's right! You are trash and you shall be treated as such!" Reese screamed back.

"But a soldier that obeys orders at the expense of his comrades is worse than trash. I would hate to have you on my team, lieutenant."

"You son of a—"

"THAT'S ENOUGH! BOTH OF YOU CALM DOWN!" Campbell's normally subdued voice blasted the two soldiers into silence. "Reese, shut the hell up and sit down. It was your bad intel that got the team into that much trouble. Durev, it's good that you realized the depth of the problem, took control, and brought everyone back home safely while also completing your objectives. But it's also true that you disobeyed direct orders from high command, and you must be reprimanded as such. You lose all leave privileges for the rest of the month, interaction between operatives is to be kept at the bare minimum, and you are required to assist in all training exercises, is that clear?"

"Crystal, sir."

"Dismissed."

Garland saluted, turned on his heel, and marched out. As he returned to his room, a voice called out for him.

"Garland! Wait a moment," it was the familiar voice of Maggie Thompson.

"Maggie, I'm being punished right now. I'm sorry, but this entire month I can't do anything. I'm stuck here training everyone and I'm not allowed extensive interaction with other operatives."

"Ah. I'm sorry…"

"Don't worry about it. It'll be over soon enough."

"Hmm, well when you get off that probation, we'll get together again, ok?"

"Yeah."

Her smile would make the days easier for him, even if he did see her very little. And he could wait. He had waited for many years, what's one more month gonna do?

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Subchapter 10: Rabbit's Crow

2012, five years since Garland's induction into FOX-HOUND, and two years since those recruits joined. And during those two years they gained quite a reputation. As solo operatives, the recruits were efficient and deadly. But as a team, four in particular, they were an unstoppable force that very few organizations could stand against. A team of four was standard policy when it came to team missions, and among the FOX-HOUND soldiers, the "Four Horsemen" were the most deadly. Earning their name due to their cutthroat efficiency, deadliness, and speed, the team consisted of Venom with his strategic mind and wisdom, Psychic Panther and his fierce dedication, loyalty, and strength, and Berserker Demon with his experience, power, and undying determination. The fourth member was actually any of the three remaining recruits, switched in and out depending on the skills necessary for the mission. All together, however, they were the most powerful force in the entire organization.

Then one day, two new people were brought in. Both were teenagers, yet they looked like they had experienced much in life. One boy, one girl, and Riku seemed to be familiar with both of them. The teenagers stood roughly about the same height, about five feet six inches. The boy had short brown hair and bluish eyes, odd for an Asian person. The girl had long teal hair and blue eyes as well.

"Riku, you seem familiar with the new people. Care to introduce me?" Garland said as he approached the trio.

"Ah, of course. Nagi, Tot, this is my friend and teacher, Garland Durev," at that, the soldier bowed to them.

"Garland…? You're one of the legendary mercenaries!" Nagi was quick to point out.

"One man against an army, and he would walk out with just a small scratch," Tot added in.

"Ah, yes, well I used to be. I'm FOX-HOUND now," Garland looked sheepish. "Anyways, I'm here to welcome you two and to test you both in close-combat training. Please follow me."

They entered the expansive training hall that Garland preferred over the VR system.

"As you may know, we also use VR devices for training. Personally, I find it less effective than real life combat, so when you're with me, we fight for real, understood?"

"Yes!" the teens snapped to attention.

"I'm not a drill instructor. I don't care for formalities or titles. Respect me and I will respect you. Now, both of you, come at me with all you got. No holding back! Let me feel your killing intent!"

Without warning, they burst into action, Tot wielding a large Japanese umbrella and Nagi attacking with flying objects.

I see. A psychic and a specialist fighter… this will be fun…

================

A week passed, and Garland got to know the newest recruits even better.

Nagi was a nice person to talk with and possessed more wisdom than a person his age would normally have. He and Garland seemed to get along the best, for what reasons no one knew. Between the two, however, they had shocking similarities.

Both had very bad childhoods. As children, they were rejected by other children and looked down upon by parents. They were loners for most of their school life, and they suffered in similar ways. However, Nagi was still young, and the pain fresher than Garland's. The older man, filled with sympathy and understanding for the boy, gave him a shard of reflective glass, saying,

"Nagi. This is a very special piece of a mirror. When the time comes, let a tear fall from your eyes onto the surface, and it will take you where your heart desires. Don't misuse it, however, because it will work only twice for you. Be very careful with it, as it was a gift to me from a departed friend and teacher.

"Now then, let us continue our training. You possess a great power, but your control is unrefined and raw. As you develop your self-control and strength of mind, you will be able to control your psychic powers to a greater extent."

"I understand, Master Durev."

"Usually, having something to focus on helps a lot. Think of something you like, something you have an incredible urge to protect, and keep that picture with you. With that in mind, release your hold on your power little by little."

Nagi breathed deeply, his mind concentrating on a single picture.

"Tot…" he whispered as he slowly released his hold.

A small aura formed around Nagi, gradually growing stronger and brighter. Soon, it had enveloped a good portion of the room, with Nagi calmly sitting cross-legged in the center of it. It was a warm glow, with a soft brightness and calming pulse. But it gradually warped, pulsing more rapidly and wildly as some bad memory crept into Nagi's mind. Soon, there was a veritable firestorm of angry psychic energy.

"Shit. Nagi! Snap out of it!" Garland had reacted too late to the changes, and Nagi was too deep into the trance.

"Sorry, kiddo, but I have to stop you somehow," he whispered and punched Nagi in the head. This brought the boy out his trance, but not before sending a rather powerful shock of psychic energy surging into Garland, the mind's equivalent of a powerful electrical shock.

"Gyraaagh!" Garland was able to stutter out before the shock knocked him unconscious, however lacking the power to shift him to his more dangerous side.

"Ugh… Ow! My head… huh? Garland?" Nagi came to and found his friend sprawled across the training room floor, knocked out cold. "Damn, was it psychic feedback? I'd better check him for any mental trauma…" And so, he concentrated and delved into the unprotected mind of Garland Durev.

Nagi had closed his eyes with Garland's face centered in his vision, and when he opened them once again, he found himself staring down a hallway. It was common to have a "door-lined hallway mindspace," according to many people that claimed to have merged minds, but Garland's was slightly different. The average "mindspace" was clean, neat, with nearly countless numbers of doors lining the walls. However Garland's hallway was splattered with blood. Handprints and streaks lined the doors and walls, so much blood that every surface was dyed dark red. Scars and claw marks slashed up the wooden doors, rusty doorknobs looked close to shattering. The walls were pocketed with countless cracks and indents, and even entire portions of plaster were smashed away. The hallway's lights flickered solemnly, beckoning Nagi forward.

He dared not open a single door, lest he release what nightmares hid behind them; horrid sounds seemed to penetrate the damaged wood. As he walked down the hall, the violence and blood never let up, instead actually appearing to intensify. Finally, after passing countless doors and hearing bloodcurdling screams, he reached the hall's end. A single black door stood ominously before him, a perfect slab of obsidian that had no doorknob. Light seemed to be absorbed into the opaque glass. As Nagi reached for the door, he felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise, a chilling cold piercing his very essence, and an unexplainable terror filled his being. Still, he pushed forward, and upon touching the black slab, he phased through.

Oh, God, how he regretted it.

His vision warped nauseously, suddenly clearing into a single blood-splattered room. It was dark, frighteningly dark. Two shattered windows were to his left and right walls; a glance outside revealed a completely decimated city, destroyed buildings crackling with fire, the asphalt road cracked and pocketed with numerous potholes, and the smoldering wrecks of cars. The sky was a cloudless blood red merging into a starless black. A single ceiling lamp rocked back and forth, flickering its yellow light. The illumination revealed a gruesome sight.

Corpses. Dozens of dead bodies covered the floor, their blood creating a sticky wet feel to the room. Nagi's feeling of nausea intensified.

The lamp rocked to the left, to the right, left, right, left, right. Then it stopped.

And out of nowhere, a man had appeared and stood in the center of the light. He was standing straight up, his blood-soaked clothing possessing an unearthly glow. The combination of wild hair, the position of the light, and his drooped head obscured his face. And as this stranger slowly lifted his face, Nagi used every ounce of his strength and self-control to not scream out in abject terror.

The horrifyingly warped face of Garland Durev looked intently at Nagi with an evil grin, his red eyes seeming to stare straight into the psychic's soul.

"Who…who are you?!" Nagi managed to squeak out in spite of his terror.

"Heheheh," a dark giggle escaped this… monster's lips. He took a step forward.

"You're not Garland! Stay away!" Nagi stumbled back, that feeling of fright intensifying.

"Hehehehahahaha," that laugh would send shivers down even the bravest of men.

"Get away from me!" how could such a demon exist within Garland?

"RRAAAAAAAUUGGGGHHHH!!!" the demon lunged forward, bloody hands reaching for Nagi's neck.

And as if something grabbed him from behind and pulled with incredible might, Nagi shot backwards at breakneck speeds, every door zooming by in a blur.

With a startled gasp, Nagi Naoe snapped out of his delve, his very being shaken. In front of him was a still unconscious Garland, looking as if something never happened. This man, who seemed to be nearly invincible in hand-to-hand, filled with great wisdom, and was a wonderful person to know, had a terrible demon hidden away. Those doors must have hidden Garland's worst memories and nightmares, and that obsidian door… Nagi shivered. He never wanted to face such a horror ever again. And despite all of the trauma and pain, Garland still seemed to live happily and without regrets. It made Nagi's problems seem insignificant. And even though the former mercenary must have lived a life much worse than his own, Garland was still willing to help others with their issues. What was he fighting for? Why was he still fighting? Nagi didn't understand.

"Why? Why do you fight? Even if the whole world turns their back on you?" he whispered.

Why, indeed?

================

"Err… Tot? That's MSG, not sugar—you're supposed to use salt. And I think the water is burning."

"Ahh! Shoot, I knew I should have waited till later!"

A teal-haired teenager rushed through the small kitchen in Garland's suite trying to prepare a simple bowl of rice gruel, leaving a trail of havoc in her wake.

"She's as bad as Akane Tendo," Garland muttered to himself, suddenly thinking back to the day he offered to help Tot cook better. Nagi had told him that Tot wished to be able to cook, but her culinary skills was… lacking. Thinking nothing of it, Garland took it upon himself to teach the girl proper cooking techniques and procedures.

He didn't realize it would be that dangerous.

"Tot, I'm going to visit the bathroom for a moment. Think you can take of yourself without me?" he joked.

"Hai! I'll be fine Garland-san," she smiled brilliantly and proceeded to add cottage cheese to the gruel.

"Eheh…heh…" he really hoped he wouldn't regret it.

A few minutes later Garland returned to discover that his kitchen had become a war zone. Utensils were scattered across the floor, splats of unidentifiable food bits littered the walls, and the pot on the stove was boiling something fierce.

"Tot? Are you here?"

"Haaiii!" her cheery voice came from the living room.

"Why is the stove unwatched?"

"It just needs to simmer a little while, so I'm just leaving it alone."

"Rice gruel? But that takes ten minutes to cook with a boil."

"I got creative and threw in some other ingredients. I'm making chicken and rice stew now!"

"Err… Alright. I'm gonna check on it, okay?"

"That's fine!"

With a wary hand, he approached the violently bubbling pot. As he reached five feet from it, it abruptly exploded in a shower of hot liquid and boiled rice. Like a freakish giant chicken, a blob of… something… rose from it and flapped its rice wings. With a celery skeleton, carrots for eyes, corn as teeth, and rice as makeshift skin/feathers, it screeched shrilly and tried to peck the chef.

"Holy crap!" Garland cried out and grabbed a pot lid and soup ladle, holding it in front of him like a makeshift sword and shield. "Back! Back from where you came!"

"Garland-san, is everything okay?"

"Uh, yeah! Everything's fine!" he swiped at the demonic food, slashing off a piece of celery.

"Are you sure? Do you need me to help?"

"NO! No, I can handle it, thanks!" Dodge to the left, feint to the right, jump the wishbone strike, and attack! A lump of rice splattered lifelessly to the ground, yet the possessed chicken continued to attack. Garland blocked a boiling hot wad of chopped potato with his lid and countered with a ladle thrust of his own. Oddly, the bits of rice collected at the target sight, and immediately went stiff; the ladle struck the hardened armor and bounced off with a clang. However Garland had swung with enough force to bend the kitchen utensil and render it useless.

"Alright you freakish pile of unholy chicken, I'm gonna cut you down to size," he muttered as he reached into the small of his back and retrieved his combat knife.

The bird screeched in defiance and thrust its head out to attempt a bite attack.

"Got you!" Garland stabbed forward with his knife, catching the chicken in the mouth with his knife. It died an unspectacular death as it suddenly lost cohesion and splashed back into the pot and all over Garland's knife and hand.

"Ano… Garland-san? What are you doing?" Tot had come to check up on her dish, only to find Garland covered with her stew wielding a pot lid as a shield and his knife thrust forward, still frozen in his finishing attack.

"Uh… nothing?"

"You're strange, Garland-san," Tot said as she picked up a box from the ground, glanced at its brightly colored letters, then dumped it into the soup pot.

Immediately it began to boil violently again, but instead of a living monster of food rising from the stew, soft chanting seemed to echo from the bubbles. The chanting gradually increased in volume, becoming clearer and clearer as the boiling became fiercer. To the oblivious Tot, it simply sounded like a ferociously bubbling pot of chicken stew with rice.

For Garland, the chanting sounded… dark.

Evil chanting.

Demonic chanting.

Not taking any chances, Garland grabbed Tot suddenly and ran out of the kitchen, kicking open his door and running madly down the hallway.

Moments later, a powerful explosion erupted from the doorway, a stream of chicken stew spilling out followed what seemed to be black fire and an unholy glow.

Down the hallway, Garland and Tot sighed for two completely different reasons. For Garland, he just lost his kitchen and usage of his room. He would also most likely require an exorcism. As for Tot, she was simply saddened at the fact that her boyfriend would not be able to taste her cooking. What a shame…

Something red flew down the hallway, a cylindrical object that collided with Garland and bowled him over completely.

"HURK!" he gasped out as it knocked the breath out of him and sent him sprawling.

"Ooh! What a cool umbrella!" the teenager tried to pick up the red Asian umbrella, to no avail. "Oof! It's so heavy!"

"Urrrgh… It's Ryoga's umbrella. I think you'll have better use with it," Garland said as he picked up the impossibly heavy and dense umbrella. "Use it while training—it'll help increase your stamina and strength as you use it more."

"Cool!" she smiled and took a practice swing with it.

Only to smash it into the wall and demolish a portion of it.

"Oops."

On the other side of the wall, Nagi Naoe lay on the floor unconscious as something unbelievably hard had come through his wall and bashed him in the face.

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Subchapter 11: Mindful Discussion

I suppose this isn't that bad of a place.

That's amazing, coming from you.

Hey, I'm not all that bad.

But yes, you're right. The people here are wonderful and the action ever stops.

Quite. It is much more exciting than your old job. Except that Reese person.

I believe that a mutual feeling among every soldier in FOX-HOUND.

So you're staying here?

What, you don't mind?

No, I guess not. I could get used to this place. Especially that Aramaki girl, heh heh heh.

Hey, Greg's after her, not us. Besides, what about Maggie?

So far she has shown only the truth, but she could always change.

You're very suspicious of her.

How could I not be, after the incident with her?

Don't remind me—I thought I had forgotten about that.

You know, I remember a question someone asked us once, but we were unable to answer.

Yeah?

Why do you fight? It's obvious as to my reason, but what about yours?

You can easily read my thoughts and tell me that.

I know, but I want to hear it from you. And don't give me any of that "to protect others" crap.

Heh… I fight… because I do. I may have no real reason to do so ,but I will still fight because others will need me to, and because I want to. Even if the whole world turns its back on me, I will fight for what I believe in. I desire to fight…

Desire, eh?

Yes. The desire to fight. The desire to love. The desire to win. The desire… to live.

Heh heh heh… good enough for me…

End: Bloody Hands.

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A/N: And that is that. Thank you for reading. But don't worry, this isn't my only project…