Ranma 1/2 Fan Fiction / Fan Fiction ❯ Metal Gear Ranma ❯ Chapter V: Pitch Into the Dark ( Chapter 5 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters used in this story except for the ones created by the author (me). All of the characters except for said claimed characters used belong to their respective owners. This piece of fan fiction is not for profit. I created this story, so therefore it belongs to me. Note that the views of the characters in no way depict or reflect that of the author or actual persons. Any relationships to actual persons or entities are strictly coincidental.

Special thanks to Ami Holt, Jill-chan "How She Got Her Eep Back", Psyckosama, Neopillian, Madhat886, and the rest of my friends whose duties included editing and reviewing.
Special thanks also goes to the owner of "Ranchan & Co. Crossing Bridges" for having an alternate site to post this on.

Comments, questions, and criticism can be made out to Slackerchan@aol.com


Tactical Espionage Action
Metal Gear Ranma

By Chris Davis

Chapter 5: Pitch Into The Dark


"Never think that war, no matter how necessary, nor how justified, is not a crime."
Ernest Hemingway, 1899-1961


Los Angeles, California
3:17am Pacific Standard Time
(17:27 till deadline)
December 31 2004

Her bloodshot eyes followed the man in front of her as she reached for another cigarette, taking a seat to get more comfortable. Around her, a number of men continued to set up a station full of high tech equipment, ignoring her in the process. She reached for her lighter to ignite the only seemingly friendly thing here. She sighed as the flame of the device reached the end of her so called blessing and began to burn its way slowly into it, at which she inhaled, bringing a wave of nicotine into her lungs, exhaling a moment later. She sat it down in the ash tray on top of the coffee table to her left. "So, why me?" she asked of the gentleman across from her in a smooth Russian accent.

"Isn't it obvious? You're the only researcher that is awake at this time of night within a fifty mile radius." he humored her.

She couldn't help but chuckle at that, though it died an instant later. "Seriously Richard, why did your guys pick me?" she asked again.

Richard Ames sighed as he prepared his answer. "...Because I chose you." he began, watching her face for a reaction, which she only took another puff of her cigarette. "Frankly, you're the best at NEST, and you can be trusted to keep a secret."

"Is that it?" she asked suspiciously.

"A few other miniscule reasons, but otherwise yes. We can't afford word getting out about this. I need you to promise me that you won't speak of this ever happening. Ever."

"You know me Richard; I keep my dirty little secrets."

He looked at her with a hint of sadness, remembering how he had wronged her a seeming week ago, but several years back. "Nastasha, this isn't the time or place for this."

Nastasha's face filled with anger. "It never is." She turned her head away, the memories still clear in her mind. Like a flood to the land, she quickly emptied her mind of the times before now and focused on the task at hand. "Tell me about him."

"Who?" he asked in response, unsure of her meaning.

"The operative. Tell me about him."

Ames' mind went back to the conversation he had had with the officer in charge of the operation. "According to Colonel Campbell, he is about as green as they come. His name is Ranma Saotome, a twenty year old recruit out of the Armed Forces Immigration Act. He's a fighter, a martial artist since he was young, but he doesn't do it to the death."

"Why him? Couldn't get Solid Snake?" she asked half jokingly as she exhaled another wave of smoke.

His manner did not change, and he took on a more serious tone. "Snake is missing, we don't know where he is. The kid was the next best thing we could get a hold of, and he was local to Alaska too."

Nastasha was taken aback by this. My god, she thought to herself, he's serious. The last time I was called in to be an advisor, it was a bunch of frat hackers outside of Mobile, Alabama who couldn't even make a cherry bomb. If this is real... "Who is the threat?" she asked. She knew what it was, otherwise they would not have called up the Nuclear Emergency Search Team.

"FOX-HOUND." Ames answered.

Her eyes widened at this, her hands fumbling to hold on to the cigarette as it threatened to fall in her lap. She set it aside in the ash tray. "FOX-HOUND? How's that possible? I thought they had been broken up years ago."

"All I can tell you is that they went splinter less than a week ago and now control the island." he stated in a professional tone.

"Okay, okay, I get the idea." she said, knowing that if she kept asking the more grandiose details would result in him grinning and refusing to answer. "When do I talk to the Colonel?" she asked.

"In just a few minutes; they have to finish setting up and calibrating the equipment."

At that, she turned her attention and her head to face the technicians. Obscured by the view, Nastasha did not know what all the men were putting together, though it involved a satellite dish, a high end computer, and a few other things she could only imagine as to their function. How convenient of them to set it up in the living room as well, she thought. Nastasha turned the other way, facing her own computer, noting to herself that she would not be finishing the report on the Ukraine's status on nuclear deterrence any time soon. She sighed and turned back to Richard, an awkward silence falling upon them as the group continued on their labors.

Minutes later, the men packed up their tools, said their business was done, and walked right out the front door. In turn, Nastasha stood up and walked over to the console, Ames following suit behind her. She had used a similar one on occasion at the office, where she often had to talk to the higher ups and would sometimes give briefings to officials at the Pentagon. Needless to say, she knew her way around the system. She pulled up her desk chair and sat down, laying her fingers upon the keyboard. She began to type a series of commands, leading herself to a list of frequencies preprogrammed in for the operation. She selected the one of them, executed it, and waited as the machine went to work, the digital camera on top of the monitor blinking red as it turned itself on.

A moment later, the face of a older gentleman filled the monitor's screen. His face showed the testament of time, and his uniform clearly stated who he was. "Colonel Campbell I presume?" she asked.

His face showed a grin. "You presume right. Nice to meet you Miss Romanenko."

"Nastasha is fine for now."

"Sorry about the late hour, but I gather you understand the jist of the situation."

"Only what I could get the Pentagon guys to tell me." she said, turning her face to meet Ames, who stood behind her unflinching. She turned back. "I am in charge of weapons characterization and information, correct?"

"Yes ma'am. You will be personifying the weapons our operative will be using, relaying the information to our chief medical officer, and giving information and advice to the operative himself."

"Is there anything I should know about Saotome?" she asked.

Campbell was quiet for a moment, giving Nastasha the feeling he was picking what to say. "Well, if you've already talked to Mr. Ames, then you should probably know he is a rookie by most standards. I would try to be reassuring to him, as he hates the idea of killing."

"Is it safe to talk to him right now?" Romanenko asked, wondering if he was in any trouble at that very second.

Campbell paused for a second, turning his head to his right them looking back at her. "He is relatively safe at the moment, so now is as good of a time as any for introductions. All the communication signals are being routed to him through Mei Ling, our specialist onboard. It'll take a few seconds to make the transfer."

"I understand Colonel. Romanenko out." She looked at the screen of a second more and entered another command, ending the transmission. She turned around to face Ames, who stood leaning against her favorite lounge chair with his arms crossed, his face emotionless. "Exactly how much privacy am I going to get?" she asked, wanting to know whether or not she was going to have a babysitter or not.

Richard's face lit up slightly in a grin. "I think you're old enough now that we don't have to worry that much. I will have some agents covering the outside while I stand guard on the couch."

"How reassuring..." she said, turning back to the computer, bringing her hands back across the keys. She repeated the same task as before, making a few changes to the destination, and sent the signal.


***


You would think that there would be some music, Ranma thought as he stepped out of the elevator, his pistol leveled in front of him with the safety off. The room, though initially appearing to be devoid of life on the radar, did not help to reassure him of his safety. According to the radar as he had seen when he got out, there were supposedly three corridors for him to walk down with large portions of walls between them, meaning that the possibility of rooms rather than just large concrete walls was high. The room itself was a dreary sight, concrete for as far as he could see, enlightened by a light bulb every ten feet or so. Stepping further into the area, he could see more of the corridor now, noticing it end about twenty feet in either direction, the two paths leading south intersecting another walkway running perpendicular to it. "Might as well go up the middle." he commented to himself, dropping his gun to a stand by position, pointing at the ground in front of him. Ranma turned to his right and began to walk down the corridor to the south. Ranma let out a sigh, both of relief and of discontentment, felling better that no one was in sight, while feeling slightly offset by the plainness of the room. Ranma began his trek down the corridor. Quiet as a-

He was never able to complete the thought as panic spread through him. Below his feet, he could feel the weight on the floor suddenly shift with a clicking sound. He quickly rolled forward, turned completely around into a knelt position, and brought his gun to bear. He watched as the ground he had just been standing on split into two pieces and fall in an arc out of sight. Damn it, he cursed, booby traps. I should have known...

Slowly, the young man stood up and turned around, returning his gun to its previous position. He was now at the intersection, at which he checked his soliton radar. No one was there, meaning that the area was indeed empty as his device had told him earlier. Looking to both his left and his right, he saw doors pressed into the walls, meaning they were more than slabs of concrete. His eyes followed the pathway until it ended in both directions at other corridors, the one to the west being occupied by crates that stood on top of one another. He turned to the east, following and keeping his eyes to the floor, walked to the first door. Captioned on it was a big number one, signifying the room security level and the words 'ARMORY B2-B: C-4'. Just what he needed. It automatically opened as he stepped up to it, thanks to the security card the DARPA chief had given him. Inside, Ranma examined the inventory of the poorly lit area. On his left were the pieces of plastic explosive itself, stacked on several shelves against the wall. Opposite them on the right side of the room was another configuration of shelves, this set containing a variety of detonators. He grabbed four pieces of the explosive, stuffing them into what he frankly referred to as his dimensional pocket, a technique he had learned from a former opponent of his long ago when times were simple. He then went to look at the detonators, which were evidently arranged by the type of transmission used to detonate the explosive. Of the three varieties there, Ranma chose a radio set, the others being active contact and line of sight transmission. With the radio type, he could detonate the device while hiding from a distance anywhere up to five hundred yards. He took out the pieces of C-4, carefully inserted the receivers into the pieces of the substance, and configured the frequencies of the receivers and the trigger itself, which was shaped like the head of a hammer with a red trigger underneath the bolt of it. Finished with his task, he put away the now complete demolitions into his subspace closet and walked back out.

The armory, he learned shortly afterwards, was composed of six separated rooms, each with a different type of weaponry within. The one he had just left was the designated explosives room, hence the thick walls. To the west was the heavy rifle area, made up of mostly sniper rifles and things of that nature, all protected by a level five door, demonstrating the importance of the weapons within. To the east was the rocketry room, designated as such for shoulder mounted missile launchers, which he hoped he would not have to use, but noted just the same. South of there was the automatic rifle storage room, but was locked with a level two security door, which he could not gain access to. West of the automatics was an open room filled with boxes, several boxes of SOCOM rounds littering the ground, which he grabbed and stored out of sight. The final room was for grenades, which he was surprised to find such and array of different types, anywhere from chaff to stun grenades, to incendiary and fragmentation ones. He grabbed two of each kind, knowing they would come in handy later. In all, the he could only access three of the rooms, and what he found seemed to make sense. Except for the C-4 area, all the rooms seemed to have been raided, as the shelves were, in most cases, empty save for a few items left behind in a haste.

Shopping time is over, he reminded himself, time to find Baker. In so doing, he began walking the perimeter of the armory, searching the walls for some sign of difference to signify a doorway or something in that sense of the word. He was so caught up in his search as he continued along the eastern wall that he failed to realize the codec was ringing. He stopped, brought his wrist to his face, and activated the device. A short second later, the face of a woman he had never seen nor met filled the screen above the frequency, numbered one four one point five two. She appeared to be European, that much he could guess from the shape of her face, and she was showing signs of a smoker, not so much hidden by the sight of a cigarette donning the lips of her mouth. "This is Nastasha Romanenko," she said in a smooth accent he had also never encountered, "and you must be the operative Colonel Campbell was talking about. Nice to meet you."

Ranma was taken aback at what she said. "You're working under Campbell?"

"Yes." she answered. "I was assigned the duty of mission analyst and weapons information distribution by the Nuclear Emergency Search Team. In other words, if you need to ask me about weapons or nukes, I can tell you all there is to be known."

"Well then," he began by offering a slight smile, "the name's Ranma Saotome, a pleasure to meet ya."

"So I've been told." Her demeanor changed again, this time becoming less friendly and more grim. "Are they serious about launching a nuclear weapon?" she asked in a low voice, as if to hide from someone.

"It looks that way." the young man said, turning his gaze away from the screen back to the walls in his search.

She inhaled sharply. "I know you already know this and it goes without saying, but I can't stress this enough. You must not let them launch it, no matter what."

"I know." he answered. Ranma's eyes continued to scurry along the wall, searching for some kind of difference. As he passed a door to the south with a level four clearance, something stood out from the rest of the area. While all the walls in the room appeared to be dingy and filth ridden, one particular section stood out from the rest. Almost as if it was brand new. "Nastasha, I've got to go. Nice to work with you."

"Same here Mr. Saotome." The communiqué ended.

Ranma walked toward the wall, studying it with eyes only rivaled by those of a hawk. It was indeed different from the others, and not too carefully hidden. He pulled out a C-4 charge, set it against the wall, which it stuck to, activated the detonator, and quickly stepped away from what he assumed would be the blast radius. He grabbed the transmitter, turned it on, closed his eyes, and pulled the trigger. The resulting sound roared throughout the area, echoing off the walls and ringing his ears. The heat of the explosion crashed against his face, making him wince in reaction. As the roar died out and the wave of heat passed, he opened his eyes and turned back to its source. In place of the wall he had focused the explosive on, a gaping hole over eight feet tall stood, chunks of concrete littering the ground around the hole and black burn marks adorning the wall and floor surrounding the opening. The section itself only seemed to be a few feet thick, which Ranma mentally noted. No need to waste this stuff, he thought to himself as he put the trigger away.

Drawing the socom, he walked through the opening carefully, ready should the need arise. The formerly blocked off room was in far worse shape than its predecessor. The corners to his right were covered in dirt and filth, and the air seemed almost stale and tasted old in his mouth. The walls were in just about the same shape, as chunks of both sides were missing, as well as a layer of dust and moisture lay upon them. The floor was also concrete, ending with rusted grate with sections of pipe running under it and a heap of dust on the floor every few feet. It seemed as if the room had been through several wars without seeing any maintenance since it was first dug out.

Walking down the lifeless hall, Ranma kept looking between the wall to his right and the radar, looking for any difference between the two. Toward the end of the corridor, he spotted another of the fake walls, this one in just the same shape has the one he had disposed of a minute before. Knowing that it could not be any thicker than the first one, Ranma placed his weapon in his left hand, brought his right arm back, concentrated on the appendage, and threw his fist into the wall. In a effect that seemed to defy reality, the section shattered into chunks and fell to the floor, a wave of dust floating in the air before sinking back to the ground.

The next area was just the same as the one before it, if not worse. Ranma followed it to the end, but stopped in dilemma. To his left was another fake wall, but there also was another one on the wall perpendicular to him. Confused, Ranma reflected on the layout of the floor thus far, thinking back to the armory and the locked door that was to the south. The distance between the spot he occupied now and the door could not be more than thirty feet or so, he calculated, meaning it would probably just be entering a room with the opposing door being the only other exit.

His mind made up, he turned to face the north, brought back his fist again, and slammed it into the wall, causing it to collapse in a haze of dirt and debris. He once again brought his weapon to bear, he stepped through the opening. What he saw was something he never expected.

The room was dark, dreary, and in much the same shape as the corridors he had come through. Five pillars stood tall in the middle of the twenty foot or so square room. Occupying the central pillar, however, was a man strung up several feet off the ground, suspended by line after line of wire stringed between the central pillar and its four counterparts. He was wrinkled and obviously balding, wearing a brown trench coat, dangling off of his frame, and a suit beneath it, partially stained with blood. Ranma recognized the face. Kenneth Baker. But is he still alive, he asked of himself.

Ranma slowly approached the unmoving body, unsure of whether he still existed in this world. As Ranma reached his hand out to touch him, he drew back in surprise as the man suddenly twitched and let out a raged breath, moaning in pain. "You're Baker, right? The ArmsTech president?"

The only response came in a slight nod and another moan. "Don't worry," he confided, "I'm gonna get you out of here."

He brought his hand up to pull away a wire that was constricting the elderly man's chest against the steel pillar. About to grab it, Baker's left hand rose up shaking. "W-wait, don't touch it!" he gasped. His left hand folded up with his index finger pointing to Ranma's left. Ranma quickly pulled his hand back, turning his head to the west. His eyes met the pillar, drawing upward and following the end of the wire where it connected to-

A block of C-4 high explosive. "What!?" he said startled. That was when he heard it. Echoing throughout the room, he heard a clicking sound, one that did not sound in any way to be an ally. Ranma quickly leapt backward into the air, bringing his pistol out. An instant later, the chamber echoed again with the sound of a miniscule explosion. The roar came from his left in the shadows, and he felt the air currents shift beneath him. A bullet from a gun.

Ranma landed in a crouched position a split second after the bullet rebounded off of the ground beneath him, his weapon pointed to the source of the disturbance. Behind the pillar on his left farthest from him, a trail of white smoke floated away from the barrel of a weapon, the enemy hiding from sight. "So, you're the lackey they sent to stop us huh?" a cracking male voice sounded off from the same direction.

"And who might you be?" Ranma asked in turn, still not dropping his guard.

"I find it surprising that they did not send Snake... I was looking forward to enjoying a fight with the man who has the same code as the boss..." he said, ignoring Ranma's question. The figure slowly walked out from the cover he occupied into the light, still pointing his gun at the young man. He was definitely old, as the test of time, and no doubt battle, had taken a toll on his body. Long gray hair shot out of his head and across the back of his brown trench coat. His face told years of hardened veteracy, with piercing eyes that focused upon his. "But I guess you will do." He twirled the hand gun in his hand in a way to best every western movie Ranma had ever seen. "Special operations, FOX-HOUND. Revolver Ocelot." he finished, stopping his gun with the barrel pointed at Ranma's head.

"I'm sorry, but I'm not here for a rodeo." Ranma returned with sarcasm.

A slight chuckle escaped the stranger's lips. "I would hope not." Ocelot pointed his gun away from Ranma and held the barrel in his hand. "This is my pride and joy. The Colt Single Action Army, the single greatest hand gun ever made." He quickly emptied the chamber of six depleted rounds, dropping them to the floor, and quickly pulled six more fresh ones into the weapon. "Six bullets. More than enough to wipe out anything that moves." He then holstered the weapon.

Ranma stared into Revolver's eyes, noting a cold, merciless gaze streaming back at him. He moved into a modified fighting stance with his gun ready. Ocelot placed his hand on his revolver and drew it out again, spinning it in the air upon his fingers. "Very well then, let me show you why they call me 'Revolver'." Ocelot coldly indicated. He holstered the gun a second time and let his arm rest by his side, his hand mere inches from the lethal object.

The stand off of wills left the room completely silent, one man facing another in preparation for mortal combat. The one sized up the other and likewise in reverse, judging his abilities and strengths and contrasting the weaknesses.

"Draw!" Ocelot shouted, beginning the fight. With almost inhuman speed, he drew his colt from the holster and pointed it at Ranma, the room echoing as a cold piece of steel exited the barrel of the gun and sped toward Ranma's heart. Ranma rolled to his right, feeling the air waves beating off of the bullet pass by him. He then fired off two shots toward his opponent, who quickly disappeared from sight as the rounds hit against the wall with sparks flying from the impact crater.

Ranma jumped to his feet and took cover behind the pillar on his right, listening for Revolver but only hearing the panic stricken sounds of gasps and moans coming from Baker. Oh shit, Ranma realized, I better watch my fire. The chamber echoed again as another shot was fired, and Ranma saw as the round bounced off the wall and just past his torso. "Damn..." he swore out loud, wondering how he pulled that one off.

"Impressed huh? You should be." Revolver spouted. "I understand the bullets, you see. I control where they go at my will." As he said this, the sound of two empty shell casings hitting the floor, meaning he was reloading.

Ranma took his chance. Running to his right, Ranma fired another two shots at the pillar where Ocelot had been just a second before, hearing the rounds bounce off concrete as a grunt came from the same direction, evidently catching him off guard. Movement caught his right eye as the speedy figure of the old man ran across the room to the other pillar, pointing the revolver at him and firing a shot, which Ranma ducked under as it flew just past his hair line. Ranma took cover again from the next pillar on his right.

"Be careful where you step!" Ocelot taunted. "Wouldn't want to kill the ArmsTech president, now would we?" This only brought a frown upon Ranma's lips while a grin occupied the FOX-HOUND member.

Two more shots rang out from Ocelot, both bouncing off the wall opposite of the younger contender and impacting the floor next to his feet. Ranma quickly ran to the corner previously occupied by the other man, took cover behind the edge of the pillar and pointed the socom at the spot where Revolver had fled to earlier. It was empty. The sound of boots banging against the floor at the other part of the room, followed by another shot, which bounced off of two walls before hitting the floor to Ranma's right side. Saotome burst from the pillar to the left and fired off a three round volley, still missing. Ranma gave chase, sprinting to the next pillar in the rotation. Two more shots rang out, missing Ranma by mere centimeters. He's out, Ranma realized. Something else was wrong however, though his eyes deceived him. He could almost swear something was with the three of them...

"You're pretty good." Ocelot stated with a hint of admiration. "Rarely do I ever use more than three bullets to a man. But you aren't exactly human, are you?" Ocelot brought his gun down to his waist and emptied the chamber of shells, placed fresh bullets into it, replaced the chamber into the gun and spun it, cocking and locking. He twirled the gun in his right hand and pointed it to the floor. "I hope you are ready kid. That's was the appetizer..." Ocelot leapt from around the corner. "Here comes the main course!" He moved his index finger to pull the trigger. It was the last time he would ever do so.

From Ranma's eye, it appeared to be that a haze had just blown right in front of Ocelot in a fraction of a second. What happened as it pasted by was what was amazing. In an instant, Ocelot reeled back in pain as his right arm below the elbow plummeted to the floor, spraying blood upon himself and the floor and cradling what remained of the crimson stump. The severed limb hit the floor bouncing once and firing a shot in the aftermath reflex of electric signals. The shot flew through the air and struck one of the wires, affectively cutting it apart. Suddenly, the haze appeared again flying through the air, each movement followed by the sound of air being seemingly sliced apart. Baker fell from his confines to the floor, and Ranma instantly knew what the next event would be. He sprinted and rolled to his right against the wall just as the wave of heat and the roar of the explosion rocked the chamber. Saotome turned back to the site of the explosion, searching for anything, or anyone, who remained. He saw Baker's singed body lying on the ground, who he nearly concluded to be dead until his arms twitched as he brought up his head to look around.

Ranma stood up just as the haze once again pasted by in front of him, this time more slowly, at an almost walking pace, moved in front of Baker but continued on. He slowly walked forward to see what remained of Revolver. Ocelot now had his arm, still holding the gun, against his chest, his face still filled with pain. The haze continued to approach him. "Stealth camouflage?!" Ocelot growled. "How is that possible?!"

The haze continued its trek, but suddenly disappeared. In its place stood something, or rather, someone. The figure wore some kind of armor, colored in silver, red and blue, and carried a sword in his right hand, walking toward Ocelot. "We'll meet again boy!" Revolver announced as he fled through the opening from which Ranma had come. The ninja, as Saotome concluded him to be, then turned around to face Ranma. The mask was also silver, with a single red light shining from the middle of it.

Ranma aimed his weapon at the newcomer's head. "Who are you?!" he demanded.

The ninja waved his sword in front of him. "A forsaken soul from a forgotten time..." its synthesized voice announced.

Gasps came from the lips of the ArmsTech president, at which the ninja turned its head to see him. "Th-that exoskeleton...!" he stuttered.

The ninja turned back to Ranma, raising its sword in front of him with the blade pointing toward him. The ninja suddenly dropped his arm to the ground and spasmed. Its head shook violently back and forth from left to right. It screamed a metallic scream, quickly became a haze again, and disappeared through the opening.

"What in the hell...?" Ranma asked as he dropped his weapon. He turned back to Baker, walking and kneeling down to him. "Are you alright?" he asked.

"Who are you?"

"I'm here to get you out of here." Saotome answered.

Kenneth's face became empty before filling back up with recognition. "You must be from the Pentagon!"

"Hold on a second, I need to ask you some questions." Ranma said. "Do the terrorists have your detonation code?"

"What?"

"Did you give them your code?" he questioned. Baker did not answer. "Tell me, I need to know! The DARPA chief already gave up his."

The ArmsTech head filled with shock. "How?"

"Psycho Mantis used his powers on him and drove the code out." Saotome answered.

"That’s not possible." the elder man stated.

"What do you mean?"

"All officers and executives that handle such information such as nuclear launch codes either don't know them but have them with them or they have mental implants to prevent psychic intrusion. Anderson was one of the later." Baker answered.

"Well then, his batteries must have been out because that is what he told me." Ranma stated. "But you still haven't answered my question."

"Is Donald alright? Where is he?" Baker asked.

Ranma paused before answering. "He's dead."

Baker face was flooded with anger. "Dead?! Why did you kill him?!" he demanded.

"Calm down, I didn't kill him." the old man visibly relaxed. "He had a heart attack or something, I don't know."

"Heart attack? Oh, don't be naive child..."

"I've answered yours, now answer mine."

Baker didn't respond for a few seconds. "I... I talked."

"Damn it, now they have both codes and can launch..." Ranma cursed.

"It isn't like I completely gave in. I was able to resist Mantis' mind probe, but..."

"But what?"

Baker closed his eyes. "Ocelot tortured me with some kind of machine he set up in the infirmary. He-he reveled in it, as if torture is a favorite hobby of his." He pointed with his left hand to his other arm. "He broke it, I can barely move it without pain. Not that that ninja thing didn't give me some revenge."

Ranma's eyes suddenly flashed with recognition. "Do you have the card keys?"

"You mean the ones that override the nuclear system?" Ranma nodded. "No. Just before I was captured, I gave them to the head of our s-" Baker caught himself.

"You can relax," Saotome emphasized, "I already know about the Metal Gear thing."

Kenneth sighed in defeat. "I gave them to Dr. Emmerich, the head of the Metal Gear project. If he is still alive, he would have them."

"Where would they hold him?"

Baker ducked his head in thought for a second before looking back up at his savior. "They probably have him stuck in the laboratory working on the nuclear program. The laboratory is on the second floor basement of the Nuclear Weapons Storage Building to the north of here." He reached into his trench coat with his good hand and retrieved three items. One of them was small and shaped like a large business or playing card. Another was a small jewel case containing a large disk, bigger than a standard cd. The third was another small card, but had the ArmsTech president's face printed on it. "Take these. the smaller one with the number two is a level two security card. The other is a one time use card for emergencies that will open any kind of security door. You'll need it to get through the door in the hanger above us to get to the lab. The disk is a list of technical data concerning the exercise we were conducting with Metal Gear. I'm sure that your boss will be wanting this. It's also the only copy left. The computer with the original data was destroyed in a gunfight."

Ranma took them in his hands, placing each in a separate pocket. Ranma then took out the old level one security card and offered it to Baker, who took it silently and placed it in a pocket. There was a brief silence for a moment before Saotome asked a question that had been haunting him for the past few minutes. "What about that ninja? You acted as if you knew it or something."

Baker did not answer immediately. "Well, I should. That suit that person was wearing is one of the latest advancements we had developed in cybernetic technology. It was originally a ArmsTech project, but after an accident with a candidate for the suit, the laboratory where the conducted the experiment was destroyed and the military dropped the funding, killing the project." His face revealed bewilderment. "How that thing still exists is beyond me. It was the only prototype we had of the unit, and it was destroyed in the accident."

And that leaves me nothing to go on, Ranma thought. "Anything else I need to know?"

"Nothing you can't handle young man." Baker brought his good hand up and offered it to Ranma, who stood up and took it. Ranma then pulled the older man to his feet, who staggered a bit before finding his balance.

Ranma began walking to the opening he had created. "Come on, let's get you out of h-"

Ranma was cut off from finishing his sentence by a sudden yelp of pain coming from behind him. Saotome quickly turned around, only to see the ArmsTech president fall to the his knees and then on his side once again on the ground. His body spasmed and he rocked with pain. Ranma suddenly recognized where he had seen this scene before. "Dear kami, not again!" he yelled. He rushed to his aid, grabbing his hand and only imagining what he could do.

"Yo-y-you!" he spoke between spasms. "The-those bastards! They're using y-" he tried to say as he rocked with pain. His head hit the cold cement floor, his legs and arms flailed for another second, and then Kenneth Baker's body went limp as his heart stopped pumping blood. Ranma brought his hand under the man's neck, both searching and not finding a pulse.

"Damn it!" he yelled. He quickly activated the codec and dialed the number for Campbell. Campbell's face filled with concern, but Ranma cut him off from speaking. "Colonel, what the hell is going on?! Baker just died just like the DARPA chief!"

"I don't know why..." Campbell tried to speak.

"You're lying! The two people I was supposed to rescue each died right after I get to them! What are you not telling me?!" he demanded.

Naomi broke in. "It looked like another heart attack, but... it's too coincidental..."

"A poison or something?" Ranma asked.

"The only way to tell is if we do an autopsy, and that is out of the question right now."

"Damn it!" Ranma cursed in defeat. "Colonel, what was that ninja thing?"

"I don't know. It's not on the FOX-HOUND roster, and I don't remember anything like that from back when I served." Campbell assured.

"Well, that's just great."

Mei Ling's face filled the device. "Ranma, that area is filled with electronic hampering insulation, so your radar isn't going to work in there. You need to move to a different area so we can get a clear signal. Also, we have someone on the line we would like you to meet." Her voice was filled with concern, but Ranma could tell it also had the chance to change the topic. He was thankful for that.

"Who?" Saotome asked, wondering why he had not met this other person of the team.

Campbell filled the screen again. "After I found out what we were dealing with, I contacted a old friend of mine who knows a lot about infiltration and confrontations in hostile environments. It was only just now that we set up a signal with him. Saotome, I would like to introduce you to McDonnel "Master" Miller, an expert in special operations."

The screen changed to that of a much younger face wearing sunglasses. He also had, what Ranma could only assume to be blond, hair pulled back behind his head. "Greetings," the man began, "you must be the rookie Campbell keeps talking about."

"So, this is the infamous Master Miller, the 'ultimate' drill instructor..." Ranma remembered from his squad back at Fort Richardson. "I thought you were retired."

"Technically, yes, but when the Colonel got through to me, I decided to help out a bit. I'll try to be your guide on everything about the flora and fauna around there from my nice and cozy cabin." he joked. Ranma, in spite of the situation, could not help but smile about that one.

"Contact me at one-four-one-point-eight-zero if you need to talk." Master finished.

Campbell broke back in. "Ranma, if you can, try and link up with that woman. She could be useful in a fire fight now that she has some blood on her hands."

Ranma did not say anything for a second. "I'll try."

"Good luck." Roy Campbell wished him before ending the communiqué.

Ranma turned away from the device and took one last look at the departed old man before getting up and walking out through the opened wall. He ran quickly through the corridors, finally making it back into the armory, where he heard a beeping sound coming from the radar, at which he looked down and saw that he screen had changed back to its intended state. What he also noticed however, to his dismay, was the sight of several blue cone shapes. Grunting, Ranma took cover behind the closest room's corner, waiting until the guard to the north of him to change direction. The soldier, meeting the intersection of between B2-A and B2-D and turning to the east. Seeing his opportunity, Ranma turned the corner and ran down the hallway, stopping at the northwestern corner of B2-A in the shadows. No one was there. He hurried over to the elevator, pressed the button on the control panel next to it, which automatically open the doors. He jumped inside, pressed the button for the first floor, and watched as the doors closed and the lift activated.


***


"Yes sir, I already have a patrol down there." Ocelot spoke on the radio as a medic applied medical tape and bandages to his wound. Ocelot had received a small shot of a anesthetic similar to morphine which, while working with the same strength as it, lacked the sleep inducing properties of its predecessor. When Ocelot had come into the infirmary carrying a arm in one hand and a crimson stump in the other, the doctor had nearly thrown up where he was standing, but knowing what he had to, he kept his composure. Relating the fact that he could do nothing to help Ocelot about his severed limb except prevent him from dying of blood loss was not the way to score points with his superior officer, and with his patient being a man who regularly tortured prisoners in the former Soviet Union's large prison population just for the fun of it, he felt it best to stay quiet.

"Yes sir, I think that both are going to be some trouble. I've never missed that much before..." Ocelot related to whoever was on the phone, as the medic could only hear a muffled voice. "I think so sir, we will have to get all the men on double shifts. That ninja person has already taken out five men, and the other intruder has done at least eight. The ninja is also using stealth, so I would recommend that the squads receive some thermal optics before we lose another squad." This caused the doctor to stop for a second in shock before continuing on. He had no idea that the situation was this serious.

There was a pause before Ocelot spoke. "...Yes sir, I understand. Though I don't understand why Raven would want to do that. He already has his noisy cricket." The medic knew the meaning of 'noisy cricket', and he wasn't about to ask questions, nor tell answers.

"Yes sir, I'll do so just as soon as I've finished up here." he stated, giving emphasis on finishing to the medic with a glare that could shatter glass, one that the medic was smart to not look up at. "This is Ocelot signing off." He turned off the radio and sat there impatiently. The wait was short, however, as the medic finished, leaving his shortened arm in a modified sling. The medic stood up, saluted Ocelot, who did not return it, and knelt back down to pick up his tools. Ocelot didn't even look back as he walked out of the room with his gun belt in its holster around his waist. As the door shut, a very audible sigh of relief came from the medic.


***


The elevator has just rang for the third floor as Ranma checked his weapon. Taking out the clip, he counted five rounds left. He replaced it with a virgin magazine and put the other away, cocking it and taking off the safety. He then took up position on one side of the elevator, flattening his body to it, and turned his eyes to the floor indicator. The hum and gentle vibration of the transport slowed and stopped. As the doors opened, Ranma took a look at his radar, scanning the area for any hostiles. One patrolled to the south, while another was somewhere to the east, but unmoving. Another thing that bothered him was the lack of green lines to the southeast of his location, and the slight smell of gasoline still dispersing into the air. Taking a few steps forward, Ranma looked at the position where upon the radar there was nothing. Where there once was a tank undergoing repairs, there now stood a set of tank tread marks with grease markings moving across the floor and toward the heliport from his door less than fifteen feet away.

Deciding to avoid as much trouble as possible, he stepped out of the elevator, his gun pointing to the floor, and walked to his left to where the large door from before had been. It was just as immense as he remembered it being before, with a large number five emblazoned on its right side. To his left on the wall, a small panel with a card reader and number pad stood beneath a small monitor reading 'SECURITY LOCK DOWN: AUTOMATIC DEFENSES ENGAGED.' Ranma pulled out the id tag with Baker's once alive face on it and inserted it into the card reader. It beeped and the screen emptied for a second before coming back with the message 'ID #WKD-4496 BAKER, KENNETH. DO YOU WISH TO OVERRIDE PRE-EXISTING SECURITY CONDITIONS? 1-YES 2-NO WARNING: CONDUCTING THIS ACTIVITY WILL RESULT IN VOIDING THIS CARD.' Knowing that he could only do this once and the only way for him to get through without a big commotion would be to use the card, he typed the number one and pressed enter. A second later, the screen lit up with another message: 'SECURITY LOCK DOWN DEACTIVATED. AUTOMATIC DEFENSES DISABLED. ACCESS GRANTED.' A second later, Ranma heard a hissing sound come from behind the immense door before rising to the ceiling and disappearing from sight.

The room, Saotome realized, was like that of an airlock, with grated vents adorning the top of the wall and several spots on the ceiling. On the floor, seams separated by a yard or so apart from one another branched out in both directions, hitting the walls and going vertical in the same manner. Some kind of gas chamber, Ranma wondered. On the other side of the room stood a door just as grand as the one he had just released from its locks, though having the difference of a large number two on it than its predecessor’s five. In any case, he began a slow trek across the room, keeping caution from the wind. He reached the opposite door a few seconds later, which began to automatically open as he approached thanks to the aid of the security card he had received from Baker. As it slowly opened, he could feel a burst of winter upon his legs and gaining height over time, until the area beyond met his eyes.

The weather itself had died down from when he had arrived at the heliport, but it was still strong, as a wave of cold air and snow flakes slapped him in the face. The room he had assumed the place beyond the door to be was just the opposite. A snowfield stood in front of him, large boulder-like rocks on either side of the confined area, an easily navigatable space for most vehicles lying between the rock structures. To the north stood what looked like a hill, with several levels acting almost like uneven stairs leading to the summit.

The codec rang suddenly. Ranma brought up his wrist and activated the device, watching as the screen came to life, expecting the standard face of Campbell to appear. This was not the case. As the usual conversations had went, a slight flicker of static filled the screen, but unlike the others, it did not disappear a second later and be replaced with the face of a person. The static view continued to fill the small machine's display. Fearing he had already damaged it somehow, he was about to use his most effective method of repair, meaning hitting it, before he was cut off by a voice.

"I would watch my step in there if I were you," the person spoke in a warning tone, "your enemy has mined the area. With your abilities, I am sure you can get around them."

"Who are you?" Ranma asked of the deep voice, though he was unsure of its true gender, as it had a metallic tone to it.

"You may call me... Cicero." the voice decided.

The name eluded Ranma's memory, and he was sure he had never encountered, let alone heard of, a person by such a name. "What do you want?"

"...You will become aware of what I desire soon..." the other spoke mysteriously. The signal suddenly stopped and the screen emptied.

"Just what I need..." Ranma dialed the codec to Campbell's frequency, whose face appeared on the screen a second later. "Colonel, did you catch that?"

He nodded his response. "Yes, we did. Mei Ling says it wasn't a burst transmission like what we are using here, so that means that he is somewhere on the base."

The young woman in question appeared on the screen. "That's right. Technically, the codec can receive any transmissions from any source, provided they know the frequency and are using the right medium for sending the signal. The problem with the 'local' calls is that they can't be traced; we don't have the system fully ready for mass distribution."

"But how did he get my frequency?" Ranma asked in return.

"I have no idea. That is top secret information." Campbell answered.

"A spy?"

The Colonel's face became grim for several seconds before speaking. "...I hope not. I'll quietly look into it though." The conversation ended with the disappearance of his face.

Keeping the advice of the stranger, Saotome turned his gaze to the snow covered ground less than ten feet away. Believing that caution was the best course of action, he turned to his left and faced the boulders. With little effort, he took several steps and launched himself into the air, gaining height in such a way to make a person with an affliction to the laws of physics to question their beliefs. Ranma landed with ease upon the formation, then moving his gaze to his right slightly, jumping, and once again landing with minimal exertion. Trusting 'Cicero' to his word, he stepped off of the rock and landed on the white powder without any hassle.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Ranma began his trek up the short hill, stepping lightly about the powdered ground. As he rose above the peak, a strangle, but not all that uncommon sound met his ears. It was a repeating mechanical sound, coming in cycles, and seemingly under stress. The sound was low however, so Ranma chalked it up to a generator or something of the genre and ignored it as the opposite building came into view. From the outside, it looked the exact same as its predecessor, but with a level three marking on the door. "Damn it," he cursed as the number appeared on the door. "Guess I'm gonna have to use the loud way in." Ranma drew back his fist and focused his eyes on the center of the door, searching for its 'break point.' Finding it, he brought back his fist and began to throw it at the barrier of steel-

An explosion rocked through the air several yards away from him into a rock face, sending chucks of rock flying in almost every direction. He turned to the site of the event, only seeing a charred and caved in wall. He slowly turned to his left again, hoping only to see a soldier with a rocket launcher or something similar slinged on his soldier. His hopes were dashed.

On top of the hill he had just transpired was a new opponent, and the source of the recurring should he had seen earlier. It was, in all respects, a large and imposing vehicle, painted in a army green color. Its treads, not like that of any vehicle upon the face of the planet, consisted of a chain link driven by wheels. There were no windows on it, only being topped by a large structure with a long pole expenditure protruding from the vehicle itself. He automatically knew what it was. The M1A2 Abrams main battle tank stood upon that piece of real-estate, its cannon facing Saotome, no doubt waiting for the chance to open fire on him. He watched as the hatch on top of the turret housing opened up. A waist up man appeared in the space above it, wearing no visible clothing of any type save many black tattoos of shapes he could not make a clear picture of everywhere, including his head. "So, you are the one who took the hand of General Ivan," the man spoke. "This is the mark of a true warrior. This is Raven territory stranger, you don't belong here. I will not let you pass."

The man drew himself back into the massive vehicle and closed the hatch. "Come, show me your skills!" the voice shouted through a megaphone. The treads began to turn.

Ranma thought fast, remembering and realizing how serious a threat this weapon was. The M1A2 was one of the best tanks ever designed, and by far the most efficient and lethal since the beginning of the twenty first century, as had been demonstrated in a series of conflicts. The turret fired armor-piercing sabot rounds out of the main gun, and had a machine gun position on top of the pivoting turret next to the hatch itself. The armor itself was a laminate steel that was almost perfect in every aspect. Almost, as Ranma remembered it to be. There were a few key points where the steel was thinner than other parts, but still strong enough to withstand any kind of grenade. But not something he could throw at it, he realized.

Saotome watched as the hatch opened once again and one of the snow camouflaged guards took hold of the machine gun. He had to act fast. Ranma broke out into a dead on run for the gunner, who pulled back on the trigger. A sudden wall of metal burst out of the weapons barrel, traveling straight at him. Ranma quickly veered to his left, feeling the air currents change to his right as the gunfire blew past him. The guard tried to follow, but somehow his spread of bullets never met its target. Ranma did.

Fifteen feet from the vehicle, Ranma leapt into the air, flying high and causing the attacker to arch his head skywards to see his enemy while holding his finger to the trigger. As Ranma finished his climb and began his decent, he formed his right hand into a fist, driving it home a second later across the jaw of the hooded soldier, who fell backwards into unconsciousness as Ranma landed in a kneeling position upon the mammoth armored vehicle. He pulled out a fragmentation grenade and held it in his left hand, bringing up his right fist, focusing his energy upon it and driving it home into the turret housing, causing a large hole and causing his arm to go in up to his elbow. He pulled out his arm, pulled the pin on his weapon and released the safety. Ranma dropped it into the hole and grabbed a hold of the knocked out guard's coat, pulling the man with him as he leapt off of the tank and landed in the snow with the limp body next to him.

He did not turn around, but Ranma heard the fragmentation grenade explode within the M1A2, which bloomed into red and yellow flames less than a second later, no doubt killing the occupiers within. Ranma looked around to face the man whom he had saved, though for the reason he was still uncertain of. He left his balaclava on him while he searched his pockets for anything. Id cards, ammunition, maps; anything was game. In his breast pocket, Ranma found a security card with a number three in it, which he quickly commandeered. He also found a set of dog tags, belonging to 'Sean Ellis,' serial number 7A-WF-83429. He also found several magazines for his pistol and two concussion grenades, which he quickly pocketed. Saotome stood up, looked down at the survivor, whose body lay facing the snow. He turned to his right and began his trek to the door he was previously denied entry by. This time however, the object reacted positively, rising slowly. At chest height, Ranma walked under it, and looked upon his new surroundings, and began his stride into the unknown.


End Chapter Five


*****
Author's Notes:

Wow, it took a LONG time to do this, and I wanted it to be better than it is, but I will compensate for that next chapter. I am also proud to say that my website, Special Order A-801.com, is finally up, and is getting some traffic. Feel free to drop by there anytime. I also have two prereaders now, to which I must exclaim 'COOL!' Ahh, now that that is out of my system... School is back in session, so it may be the middle of November before I can get the next one out, so please stay tuned.

http://www.specialordera-801.com

9/28/03