|Metal Gear Solid: The First Encounter
Author: Rookie's eyes PM
A Rookie's novelization of Metal Gear. FOXHOUND operative Solid Snake is called upon not only to save his ally Gray Fox from the Commander, but to cripple Outer Heaven's latest war machine before it can use its new weapon to dominate the world!Rated: Fiction T - English - Adventure - S. Snake & G. Fox - Chapters: 15 - Words: 46,881 - Reviews: 63 - Favs: 22 - Follows: 16 - Updated: 04-07-12 - Published: 10-12-10 - id: 6394742
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
METAL GEAR SOLID: THE FIRST ENCOUNTER
by Rookie's Eyes (based off of Metal Gear)
Disclaimer: the Metal Gear series and their characters are property of Kojima Productions and Konami
~There is an extra segment I've added since this was posted as a teaser in my previous story.~
"The Ice Age of the Cold War has only just receded. The clutch of the Soviet Union has for four years been dissolved. For many citizens of the former Soviet Union as they adjust to their new society, they struggle to climb out of the hole they have been forsaken in by the USSR. As they slowly reorganize themselves into a semblance of order, the weapons which the Soviet Union once possessed in authority have been pawned out to the highest of bidders in desperation. One nation in particular has caught the eye of the United States government.
"Outer Heaven. A nation within the Republic of South Africa which has sprung up like a weed in the midst of a vast warzone, has amassed thousands of second hand Soviet nuclear armaments and various military contraband to arm itself against anticipated war. Greedily they attack the borders, conquering more land and people to hasten their war machine.
"And yet, that is not the greatest of the United States' worries. Along with thousands upon thousands crates of weaponry, strange shipments have been found among the cargo carrying unusual parts with an unknown purpose. The US has charged High Tech Special Forces Unit FOXHOUND with ascertaining its purpose, and if necessary, its destruction."
Outer Heaven's Research and Development facility
2129 Hours, February 2, 1995
"This is FOXHOUND agent codename Gray Fox. I've made my way into the development wing of Outer Heaven's fortress." A thinly built man stood in the darkest corner of the room, taking cover behind a set of shelves. With silver hair, grey eyes and a clean face, the man carried only a pistol strapped to his thigh and a machete around his shoulder. He wore a grey urban espionage uniform, standard issue for FOX-HOUND agents when in the field. After hours of trekking through the wilderness surrounding the compound, Fox finally had managed to slip through the defenses without being detected.
*140.85* "Good work, Fox." A rough voice complemented from the other side of the transmission. It was a familiar voice, and though it had lost some of the gusto which Fox had so long admired, it still possessed total authority in the face of adversity. "Punctual as always. This is the best chance we have. Our informant says that within the week the weapon is going to be transported below ground. You should be able to get there using the duct system to get to the machine. You are to find it and uncover the true nature of their new WMD. You must dismantle it by any means necessary, and if at all possible, to find and kill the man responsible for its creation, whoever that may be."
"Get in. Ascertain the purpose of Outer Heaven's black project, blow it up, get out. Could it be any simpler?"
*140.85* "You'd be surprised how complicated so simple an idea can become, but that's the general idea. Good luck Fox."
"Commencing Operation Intrude N312."
Gray Fox entered a long dark corridor, rows and rows of vehicles spread out before him in the hangar, and yet he barely glanced at the vehicles, eyeing the elevator at the very opposite end of the row. Guarded by a single soldier. This is going to be easier than I thought. The gray concrete did not absorb sound very well. Were it not for his specially padded boots the guard would have heard him coming from a mile away.
The rafters above the floor hung low, allowing Fox to swiftly leap up the wall, silent as a feline, and grip onto the iron beams. He flipped himself upright onto the beam, Standing straight with the precision of a tightrope walker and making his way along the rafters, headed toward the guard without his noticing.
Fox slowly lowered himself above the soldier, using his strong yet lithe feet to grip onto the iron as he descended. Before the soldier even had time to register the contact Fox wrapped his arm round the sentry's skull, twisting abruptly and severing the man's vertebral column. His body fell limp to the floor, and Fox fell lightly to the floor, landing on the floor to search the dead man for his identification. Among his papers was a level Three security pass which Fox promptly pocketed.
Quickly, he carried the body over to one of the nearby tanks, opening the hatch and hastily dropping the cadaver inside. After quietly shutting the hatch on its new occupant, Fox made his way back to the door, sliding the card down the scanner and eliciting a beep of approval from the machine. He slipped through the doors and into a long hall, a single camera strafing the wall from one corner of the ceiling. Taking note of the camera, Fox pressed his body tightly to the same wall, slipping under the camera's blind spot and passing without incident.
"Boss," Fox spoke through the transceiver, "I'm nearing the duct-work entry point."
*140.85* "Be on the lookout for traps. There could b-"
"Trap doors, maybe lasers. I've covered them in training. Always be on the lookout for parts where the floor is clean and polished, no scuffing from military boots." He whispered lightly into the receiver as he slowly advanced through the hallway to a door on the other side designated "HIGH PRIORITY DEVELOPMENT" an advisory at the midsection of the door also said "Personnel caught without authorization will be imprisoned indefinitely."
Fox laughed inwardly as he thought to himself, So all I have to do is not get caught. Sounds easy enough. Beside the door was a duct vent with rusted bolts and screws so oxidized that it took the mere prodding of his finger to snap their bond to the wall. Swiftly Fox slipped inside, turning enough in the cramped space to grip the vent cover and gingerly place it back to its prior position so as not to arouse the suspicion of any passersby.
Stealthy as his namesake, Fox slipped through the duct without a sound, hesitating only to observe his position in the vents to make his way to the hangar. His uniform was constantly catching on stray nails and screws which the workers were too lazy to pound completely in. Fox yearned for the old days when they could afford to spend money on soldiers. He missed his old FOX uniform, almost wishing he hadn't had to throw it away after it was ruined in his skirmish with Big Boss, back when he still preferred Naked Snake over his honorary title. His thoughts returned to the duct as it began to brighten from dark gray to dull silver, and Fox could just make out strips of light at the very end of the vent.
As he came closer he could make out a room lined with supercomputers, a single man, balding, with white hair comparable only to Einstein's, standing among the glowing screens and panels, entering programs and altering settings which Fox neither knew nor cared about. The element of surprise was essential to subdue the scientist without alarm. Fox pressed his hand against the vent, gauging from the resistance that it would not break silently or quickly. Reorienting himself, he pressed his feet against the grating and slammed with all his power.
As he swiftly slid out of the vent the scientist stared, dumbstruck with a look of shock across his face. Before the man could recover Fox spun him around, restraining his arms with his left hand while silencing him by holding his mouth shut. "MRRrrrrrrrrrmph!" the man gave a muffled scream, terror now fully realized in his eyes through his goggles and sweat beading on his forehead.
"Quiet." Fox said in a calm yet strong tone. "Or you will regret it. No one has to lose their head." He drew his machete from its sheath, holding the cold blade to the man's neck. Evidently the man did not realize his hands had been freed. "What's your name?" Fox demanded, but the man could only answer with a whimper.
"What's you NAME!" he thrust his foot behind the man's knee, causing him to crumple to the floor, his head slamming against a nearby locker. In fear he scrambled away until his back was pressed tight against the locker, a moist stain expanding quickly on his pants. He trembled uncontrollably, failing to register the urine on his trousers. "Argh! Okay! Okay!" the man sputtered, "Madnar! My Name… Dr. Drago Pettrovitch Madnar."
"You're the man responsible for the new weapon?" Fox stated more than questioned, drawing out his silenced pistol and taking aim at the man's head.
"No! No please don't kill me! I do this only because I must!... Please! They've got my daughter Ellen! *sobs*. I would have deserted ages ago were it not for my poor Ellen being held by those vagrants!" The man broke down into sobs and incoherent Russian, tears streaming from his eyes. Fox turned his codec dial to "SEND", "Did you get that Boss?"
*140.85* "Yes I did. This will comp*Static*e things. Can he speak cle*Static*ough to tell you what they're building?" The radio began to crackle with static, but Fox was too busy looking at the dark silhouette of the titan machine he had been too preoccupied to notice before. Memories of FOX's revolt flooded back to him, of Gene and his 'Army's Heaven'. The hulking machine which had promised Armageddon nearly twenty years ago was back.
He was so stunned he could barely whisper the words, "M-Metal Gear…." before the static dominated the transceiver.
The cold tip of a gun barrel dug itself into the back of Gray Fox's skull, shaking him out of his awe and back into reality. "Careful tiger.." a woman's voice purred a warning from behind, "It'd be a shame for you to miss your appointment with the Commander. No one has to lose their head."
1316 Hours, February 3, 1995
David sat atop a jeep, wearing a plain dirty white T-shirt, a closely cut haircut, standard BDU pants, and combat boots. He took one last long drag of his cigarette before dropping it to the floor and smothering it beneath his heel. The cadences of his FOXHOUND brothers in arms echoed across the courtyard, the words of which he knew by heart. He paused for a moment, watching the new recruits struggle to march and remember the words.
They all recited line by line,, "If you want to know where the generals were, I'll tell you where they were, Yes, I'll tell you where they were, Oh, I'll tell you where they were, If you want to know where the generals were, I'll tell you where they were, Back in gay Paree!"
The Drill instructor asked, "How do you know?"
"we saw them! we saw them! Back in gay Paree! we saw them, Back in gay Paree! If you want to know where the colonels were, They're miles away behind the lines."
"Playing with the mademoiselles."
"Down in the deep dugout."
"Drinking up the privates' rum."
"Up to their necks in shit!"
He walked past the band of soldiers through the courtyard to the main building, a structure which could easily have been a hundred years old, it was the stately center of operations for FOXHOUND and the office of their Commanding Officer, Big Boss. As he made his way through the building, heads turned toward him and people spoke quietly as he passed, thinking that he could not hear them. Snake never was a very social man, and in his time as a soldier he had earned quite a reputation for himself. Before he was a FOXHOUND operative he served in the Green Berets, primarily in reconnaissance and sneak attacks in Iraq, his specialty and the very reason he was approached to join the unit by Big Boss.
All his life he had been molded by the government into what they called 'The ideal soldier', since his induction into military type training nearly seventeen years ago. Since then he excelled in every skill, on and off the battlefield. He didn't like to boast his talents but in his years as a soldier he developed an intelligence quotient of 180 as well as native-level fluency in six languages. Since David's induction he had always had it harder than the rest of the soldiers, but he always knew he could take it. He mastered Close Quarters Combat to the point that even instructors such as his Master, Mcdonell Miller could not beat him.
And yet despite his prowess, like the rest of the unit David did not learn much about his CO. The old soldier earned a world renowned reputation as the "Greatest Soldier of the Twentieth Century". Scars across his arms and back hinted at a lifetime of military history behind his graying hair and beard, but the most evident of his wounds was the eye-patch he wore across his right eye. No one asked and he didn't tell.
From the bits and pieces in hospital records and video that David had pieced together about his mentor, he had lost it during a top secret three day mission on August 30th, 1964. But that was all he could discern from the broken information, no location, no listed adversaries. The only thing which coincided with those dates in the records was the death of a woman by the name of The Boss. And David wouldn't accept that it was a coincidence that they shared similar titles.
The building was filled with war memorabilia. Photos from Ops from their predecessor units as well, including Cobra and FOX. Uniforms decorated the walls, along with weapons and documents. Outdated equipment and a few antique recruitment posters for every branch of the American military. After several minutes through those hallowed halls David turned, headed toward the door which read "FOXHOUND COMMANDING OFFICER, BIG BOSS". He rapped upon the door and a gravel voice answered promptly on the other side, "You may enter."
David entered, bringing his hand to his forehead in salute to his Commander. As David looked into his commander's eyes, he couldn't help but sense a feeling of Déjà vu, a feeling he often experienced when studying the man, despite rarely seeing him alone.
The commander was aged, but it would be heresy to consider the soldier truly old. Standing straight and tall with his hands clasped behind his back, he carried himself with uncommon and unerring dignity, so much so that many soldiers who did not know his manner thought him arrogant. He wore a deep green uniform, a fox elaborately sewn into the top of his military beret. His uniform was decorated simply, utilizing only the medals which denoted his rank. David knew he and Big Boss had one thing in common: neither cared much for congratulatory trinkets.
Big Boss returned the salute, "At ease, soldier." David's arm relaxed, maintaining eye contact until Big Boss added, "Please, have a seat." David tried to read Big Boss' face, but his endeavor was as fruitless as attempting to read a statue's emotion. His mentor's face was set, and the stone was only broken when he posed a question to his disciple, "Are you aware a nation by the name of "Outer Heaven"?
"Yes, I am familiar with it, Sir."
"What do you know of the subject?"
"It's about 200 kilometers north of Galzburg, South Africa. It was established around 1987, after a heavily armed radicalist faction instilled and have managed to maintain a new government in the interest of increasing their military power."
"That is the general summary, yes." His voice changed from formal to warning in an instant, "What we are about to discuss is of utmost importance to the safety of this nation. From this moment on you will be on record as having received top-secret information and will be subject to federal sanctioned retribution both brutal and enduring if the following is discussed outside this office."
David wasn't worried. He'd never had any trouble keeping secrets before, why would his conscience act out now? "I understand the full consequences of my actions pertaining to this information, sir."
"Good. Now, The nation's government at the moment is Communist, due to its youth and the inhabitants of the new country they felt that Communism would be most stable. It is a Dictatorship, lead by the very same man who lead the revolution which lead to its creation. This man is shrouded in secrecy. This is the only photo we've ever been able to attain of him is this one. He placed a picture on the desk which David studied. The man was strong and tall, yet even those observations were sketchy when the picture was so blurred. Big Boss continued, "He calls himself 'The Commander' and has another government associate, Colonel Vermone Catajé, to announce his decrees."
Big Boss had stopped, and so in desire to continue the conversation David asked, "Sir, what pertinence does this have to why I am here today?"
"A week ago we received intelligence from our informants that Outer Heaven is stocking up on its supplies of ammunition and weaponry, mustard gas, and… Nuclear weapons… But that isn't our most pressing concern. Among the shipments of weaponry and gas there hav been large orders of parts whose purpose is not clear. The US government is suspicious that they are in the construction of a secret weapon which could threaten the US's security and the lives of citizens all across the globe. I commissioned a fellow agent of yours, Gray Fox, to determine its intended use and destroy it if it posed any threat to our security… We received this from his transmission."
He pressed the ENTER key on his computer, the sound of static dominating the speakers until finally words broke through the droning, " 'What's your name?' Snake heard Fox demand, answered only by the whimper of a man close by. 'What's you NAME!' The slam of a kick resounded from the speakers, swiftly followed by the crash and bang of a body impacting sheet metal. 'Urrgh! AAaah! Aah!... Argh! Okay! Okay!... M-Madnar. M-My name … Dr. Drago Pettrovitch Madnar!' 'You're the man resp*Static* for the new weapon?' Fox said, the familiar click of a silenced pistol following his statement. 'No! No please don't kill me! I do this only beca*Static* I must!... Please! They've got my daughter *Static*. I would have deserted ages *Static* were it not for my poor Ellen being held by those vagrants!' David could hear sobbing as Fox addressed Big Boss 'Did yo*Static*et that Boss?' 'Yes I did. This will complicate things. Can he speak clearly enough to tell you what they're building?' The sound wasn't broken by anything but static until Fox finally broke through, 'M-Metal Gear….'
David shuddered to think of what had happened to Fox. Besides Big Boss Frank Jaeger was the greatest soldier in the whole unit. He was held in the greatest esteem by all who met him. He was starkly different in battle than the respectful, reserved man that David observed when in the social setting. In battle Fox was inhuman, a look of indifference taking over his face whenever he struck down an opponent. The things he could accomplish simply with his machete always left David in a state of awe. As of yet he is the only man to have earned the coveted title of "Fox", and his solo missions are studied by new recruits and veterans alike for every ounce of talent they may learn from it.
"Metal Gear?" He had no idea what kind of code it was, and yet the words were not foreign. "What is it? A code?" he growled.
"We don't have a clue. All we know is that Frank never made it back to the extraction point. He's been MIA for twenty-three hours or so, and as we speak he may be under torture… Your mission, should you choose to accept it is to infiltrate their experimental facility, retrieve Dr. Drago Pettrovich Madnar as well as Gray Fox, dismantle their "Metal Gear" weapon and retrieve a copy of the machine's specifications."
"I cannot refuse my country in a time of crisis, Sir."
Slight pain broke through Big Boss' stone face, mixed with what David interpreted as pride, "You will henceforth be referred under the codename 'Solid Snake'. Report back at 1700 for your briefing."
Author's Note - In my writing limbo all my ideas for one of my fictions The Exploits of Philanthropy crash and burn, so I decided to take out my frustrations by writing this, my own novelization of Metal Gear 1. Although The ones already on this site have their own merits and some scenes which I do not think I will be able to top, it is my opinion (I repeat: my opinion) that they do not conform with some of the plotlines that made the original game so good. Of course mine will not, and alas, can never be perfect, I am going to strive to make it the very best I can.