Chapter One: Murphy's Law

Murphy's Law: If something can go wrong, it will. Story of my life, as you can probably tell from looking at it.
I suppose I better introduce myself. My name's Marth Lowell. I went from one of the best secret agents to a cheap private eye in the cheapest part of True City. Even as I walk through these sad, crumbling streets I wonder just how the hell everything went wrong.
And then she paged me for the first time in five years, and now I'm walking towards a dark alley in the darkest part of the town ruled by the darkest crime lord in history – Tabuu Lawliet. I came real close to taking him down once, but failed and had to fake my own death – to the extent of becoming a cheap private eye. And all because of her.

Hell, the message doesn't even say much. It was just a simple two lines and a set of initials:
'I need your help. Meet me in the alley next to Richard's Bar. SA.'
Samus Aran. Used to be a feared CIA agent too…until she went rogue and became a bounty hunter after fooling me into thinking she loved me and then using me as a fall guy when our last job together went pear-shaped.
Teached me something, I can tell you. As you could guess, I didn't trust her completely – wait, at all. That's why I was armed. Compact variant of the Five SeveN, my personal favorite handgun in the world – never leave home without it. Call me a Splinter Cell fan boy if you want, but it's got the stopping power, range, and makes hardly any sound when it's got the silencer on…

…not that it would help much in the situation I've just found myself in. Like I said, Murphy's Law – if something could go wrong, it will.
And this just did. Oh so very much. Let's see here…maybe ten armed gunmen. Bolt-action rifles – looks like Tabuu's armory hasn't improved much, although with this many gents I'd be dead before they'd need to reload. Or pull back the bolt. Then their leader stepped in, a brown-skinned bastard in a white suit. I've met hired hit men less persistent than this guy – less lethal, too.
"Well well well…what have we here, Mister Lowell?" The bastard said. I spat on his suit.
"Go to hell, Ganon." I said, more bravely than I felt. Ganon smirked.
"Take him in, boys."
Like hell.
The first one came at me with the saw-knife on the end of his rifle. That was simple enough – twist it away and wind him with a blow to the solar plexus. Then I was up the ladder faster than you could say Stupid Lying Double-Crossing Bitch…which could also mean Samus Aran right now. This plan counted on two things:
One, they were still lousy shots…and two, they wanted me alive.
Bullets started pinging off the walls. So much for the second hope…at least they still shot as well as the A-Team on a hangover. I started racing across the rooftops, getting chased by a bunch of druggie fourth-grade dropouts and a bastard in a white suit. Who was somehow in front of me?
Wait, that's the other guy!

I tried to skid to a stop, but failed. I couldn't do anything. I just messed up my next jump over a gap and collapsed in a heap at his feet. I stared up into the penguin-tattooed face of 'King' Triple D.
"Gotcha now, huh Lowell?" He grinned evilly. I hated this smug, fat bastard.
I growled and got to my feet. He seemed surprised. "Like hell you do!" I yelled, curling my hand into a fist.
I swung at him, feeling a satisfying amount of impact on his jaw. Triple D flew backwards, and I tried to run off again when I suddenly fell to my knees. Ganon caught up with us.
"The big boss wants you alive. Those were tranquilizers, you idiot." He smirked.
Oh. That's what they were shooting at me.
…I am so screwed. Then again, maybe not. Just before I passed out, some other guy started blazing at them with an Uzi. Ganon and Triple D scattered, but their grunts got hosed down. The new guy ran up to me.
Was it her? Maybe Samus didn't sell me out after all?
He injected me with some stimms to counter the tranqs, and his face swam into view. His ugly, bearded, scarred, smirking face.
…not Samus. Definitely not her.

"Dammit, Snake." I muttered, getting up. Snake Gear smirked. I ignored him and continued. "What are you doing here?"
"Saving your sorry ass once again, it seems." He remarked, following me off the roof before pushing me into a car. "Let's get moving. She's taking too long."
Wait, what?
"She's here? With you?"
"Yessir." Snake muttered with a grin. I groaned. All of my worst fears confirmed in one night, it seemed.
…did I mention I hate this guy? I buckled myself in and braced for Snake's infamous driving.
Then I saw it. A woman with blond hair and black highlights, dashing towards the car, gunfire following her. I tried to pull out my SeveN, but she just slid over the roof, and twisted through the open back door.
Samus Aran. God, she was good at her job.
"Drive." She commanded. Snake hit the floor, and we were off. She poked an Uzi out the window, gunning down the two goons following her before we turned a bend. She relaxed. An awkward silence ruled.
"…so…you two are together?"
"Working together, yes." Samus muttered. Now that I got one good look at her, she was just as beautiful as I remembered. But something told me she was a hell of a lot more dangerous.

"No, I mean…together together."
Snake blanched.
"WHAT? NO! GOD NO!"
Samus stared at me "GROSS! No, god no!"
I smirked. Some things never change after all. As we drove off into the night, I sighed and realized I didn't have a choice.
I couldn't go back now – I knew Snake Gear. He'd kill anyone who could compromise the mission. I had to help…or die.
God damn you, Samus Aran.
God damn you and your ability to keep pulling me into trouble.
God damn me for falling in love. I was pulled from my reveries by Samus clearing her throat.

"So, Snake…mind telling us what this job is?"
Wait, what? She doesn't know either?
I glared at Snake's head. I knew he'd have to be behind something. Snake just smirked at the mirror.
"What do you think?"
I'm not going to like this.
"We're going to assassinate Tabuu."
…I didn't like that. God damn my life. I sighed in frustration.
"How the hell do you lot always manage to get me mixed up in this?" I growled. Samus smirked.
"What's wrong, prince? Scared?"
…I always hated that freaking callsign. I growled in reply, racking back the slide on my pistol.
"Never. What's the plan?"

Snake looked me in the eye.
"Dude. Since when did I plan ahead?"
I applied palm to forehead, drawing a throaty chuckle from Samus. This was gonna be a loooooooooong night…