DISCLAIMER: I forgot to do this with my last chapter sry Konami : I DO NOT OWN METAL GEAR... well actually i own a copy ofMetal Gearon NES...its really lame...


Ch.2- In The Eyes of Heritage

USDOD Headquarters- 3:15 PM, 12/3/07

Commander Greg Reese stared at the freshly printed document he held in his hand. As he read the text that covered the page, the furrow in his brow seemed to grow larger and deeper. His head began to slowly pound from frustration, and as he sighed in confusion, he reached for the small bottle of aspirin sitting on his desk.

Metal Gear… Could it be true? Thought the young commander. He popped the aspirin tablets into his mouth, slamming them down with a few gulps of water. He sat back into the plush leather chair, scratched his brown hair and shifted his green eyes up towards the clock across the room. He was supposed to have left for home nearly two hours ago, but there was no way in hell he could concentrate with his two children and wife constantly battering his ears. He closed his eyes and tried to think of the problem at hand, but his thoughts soon shifted.

Commander Reese considered himself well off. At thirty-two he was already a commander in the Army. Not to mention one of the most highly regarded men in the USDOD. He had a wife, two twin boys, and drove to work each morning in a fully loaded BMW. Yet, he had always felt empty, weak, and powerless. It probably came from his father, a Vietnam veteran. A strong man, whose principles usually outweighed common sense. He was the reason Greg had joined the Army in the first place, just to please his father, simply because he felt that he needed to prove himself in his father's eyes. However, was it worth it? He was in charge of a hell of a lot now, more than he was used to. It seemed that now that he had power he was too afraid to use it. Nevertheless, something had to be done about the threat that had suddenly arisen, and Greg Reese was the one in charge of taking care of it. He sat there for a few more moments, then grabbed the black Rolodex from his desk and flipped through it until he found the number.

"Hello, is this David?" asked the commander.

"Some people call me that," answered a harsh, scratchy voice, "And who, may I ask, is this?"

"This is Commander Reese, with the USDOD. We were introduced quite a few years ago, before Zanzibar," Reese said, trying to revive the older man's memories.

"The wiry, brown-haired secretary that assisted Campbell, during the operation?" asked David in a reluctant tone.

"That's the one," replied Reese with a chuckle, "I, uh, had a question for you."

"Shoot," replied the voice cynically.

"Well, would you be willing to assume command of a…" Greg paused, unsure how to finish the sentence. He ultimately opted for the most straightforward line, "Foxhound is being reassembled, are you willing to accept command?" Greg Reese held his breath, hoping the man would say the right answer.


Keegan and Monroe lead the SRT down the hallways of the Detroit FBI Headquarters. The smell of blood, bile, and excrement slowly began to overwhelm them. The squad tiptoed over puddles of blood and scattered body parts. Keegan noticed the expression on Charles's face. He looked as if wasn't sure if he wanted to puke or scream. Keegan crouched behind a corner, checking to make sure they were in the clear. Then turned to Charles,

"You feelin' alright?" asked Keegan sympathetically.

"I'm not sure," replied Charles with a gulp of anxiety, "whatever did this isn't human. I just know it."

Keegan chuckled softly, "Don't go all sci-fi on me bro. All this is some dude with a sharp knife and poster of the Son of Sam on his wall."

Keegan's smile was lost on Charles, "Fuck you! We aren't dealing with a normal person. Whoever this is has serious skills and is probably all over us right now." Charles looked over his shoulder almost as a reflex.

"You gotta lay off the caffeine pills man," said Keegan with a sigh, then turned to the rest of the squad.

He signaled to the squad, four of them took the west hallway while Charles and another three men took the north hallway. Finally, Keegan and his three went west. Keegan gave Charles a thumbs-up for good luck before he lifted the M4 Carbine to his shoulder and took off down the west corridor.


Raiden kept to the shadows, moving slowly through the complex, slowly closing in on his prey. Suddenly he heard it; footsteps, just ahead.

Kst "Come in Red Alpha, over," spoke a man's voice.

Kst "Roger," came a static voice from the radio.

Kst "Red Alpha, this is Blue Alpha, this wing is clear, over," said the man, a frustrated tone in his voice.

Kst "Roger that, camp there and wait for further orders, over," replied the voice on the radio.

Kst "Roger, Blue Alpha out," said the man. The four men relaxed, feeling relieved that they were out of harms way for the moment, but not if Jack could have it his way, and he was.

He drew the Katana from its sheath and glanced back at the monitor, making sure the download was still in progress and then, blind rage took its course.