typingatlightspeed

[typingatlightspeed]

Metal Gear/TF2 Crossover - cp_shadow_moses_event Chapter 19 FINAL

Come on, this is Metal Gear. You knew this was coming.

Ao3 Link!

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"Yes, ma'am. The entire unit was wiped out." Ocelot rasped into his codec, grinning proudly as he spun a revolver with his remaining hand.

"Those two are still alive.

"The vector? Yes, ma'am. FoxDie should become activated soon. Right on schedule.

"Yes, ma'am, I recovered all of REX's dummy warhead data.

"No, ma'am. My cover is intact. Nobody knows who I really am.

"No, ma'am, I didn't make contact with her. She's unaware of who I really am as well. The only person who knew was the DARPA chief, and he's been disposed of.

"She found the cache? Good. The mercenaries made an excellent smoke screen to keep Liquid from paying more attention to the far more powerful weapon hiding under REX's feet.

"Yes, ma'am. The island has been evacuated. Everyone still alive is gone. Recovery will be a simple matter.

"Of course, ma'am. I'll continue surveillance on Emmerich until he's no longer with BLU. Can't have company secrets leaking in either direction.

"Yes. Thank you, ma'am. Goodbye, Madam Administrator."

[typingatlightspeed]

Metal Gear/TF2 Crossover - cp_shadow_moses_event Chapter 18

It's over. Liquid Snake is dead. FOXHOUND is dead. The bombers have been called off, and everyone left alive has left Shadow Moses. Except for one person, the only person who knew her whole job from start to finish. Meanwhile, on BLU's extraction boat, Otacon tries to figure out where to go from here.

Ao3 Link!

For funsies I used a few of Otacon's lines from his ending (which I like more than Meryl's, even though I adore Meryl), and had him steal a little bit of Snake's. <3

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The maintenance base was a mess of shattered catwalks and bodies, the scissor lift that operated its central elevator fully extended upward, struts having locked in place beneath to secure its platform into the floor above. Emergency lights illuminated the room, the explosions that had rocked the hangar having rattled much of the overhead lighting from its supports and sent them crashing to the ground below.

The clack of dress shoes on the metal grating of the room's raised floor seemed almost surreal in the massive, empty space. Shadows fell at odd angles, making it seem more a tomb than a maintenance hangar. Regardless, Miss Pauling pressed inward, digging a flashlight from her belt and switching it on. The beam illuminated her way as she scrambled up to the platform from where the elevator had risen, looking down into the empty hole left in its wake.

The scissor lift had reached a full storey downward when compressed, a crater of space left behind when it had extended. A set of stairs led down into the bottom of the crater, with no railing to steady on it. Pauling descended slowly, revolver in one hand stabilized atop the wrist of the hand that held her flashlight in a reverse grip. She was ready for anything, even though she knew nobody could be there any longer. Anyone not dead had evacuated. She was the sole person left alive inside of Shadow Moses.

At the bottom of the stairs, she found a door tucked into the wall of the crater, beneath the stairs. It was barely visible from the surface, with a control panel inset at its side.

She stowed her flashlight and withdrew a sapper, clamping it onto the panel. With a fizzle and some spitting sparks, it overrode the security door, and with a pop, the steel doors swung open, revealing a tunnel with yet more stairs, lit by sodium lights overhead.

She wasn't sure how long she'd walked, flight after flight of stairs in a squared-off spiral leading her deeper, deeper, deeper under the island, past the sea bed, and deeper still. The chill of the facility grew to a bone-deep cold, the bitter, bleak freeze of a place that had never and would never see the warm face of the sun.

Sodium lights were all that lit her way, orange yet cold as she continued her descent. It felt like she was walking into the underworld, to the frozen final layer of Hell itself, her nerves finally beginning to get the best of her when she turned a corner and was met with a flat hallway leading to another door. A second sapper made quick work of it, and as the doors slid open, the orange that lit her was overwhelmed by a glow of glittering gold.

Australium, stacked in bullion bars, lined the room before her. There were pallet-loads of the stuff, wrapped with shipping film, numbered and labeled. The space was filled with it, stacked floor to ceiling for a storey and a half, covering three walls and more.

The radiation from it was overwhelming. Pauling could feel a tingle at her lip as her hair follicles responded to the transformative element. She took a few steps back and pulled the satellite phone from her belt.

No signal. Of course.

With a sigh, she rolled her eyes, shut the doors, and began the long, long trudge back up to the maintenance hanger so that she could call The Administrator.

*

The freezing spray of arctic waters speckled Otacon's face as he stood on the deck of the old lifeboat that BLU had provided to extract its team. The vessel weaved through the archipelago as it raced away from Shadow Moses island with the addition of an overpowered aftermarket outboard motor, carrying the team and their guest away from the cursed island, which sad silent and foreboding in the distance even as the morning sun sparkled over the ocean and ice. The whole world felt like it was blanketed in snow, the blizzard having let up sometime before morning, leaving a strange, muted quiet to the crashing of the waves.

Otacon wished he could have appreciated its beauty more. All he could do was think about how his life was over.

Spy had told him what happened, explained what Snake had heard over his codec from the Colonel. That the bombing run had been narrowly averted, that they really had almost died. That Snake and Meryl were legally dead. That he had nothing to go back to.

"What am I gonna do now?" he muttered.

Engineer tisked, looking to the young man standing at the aft, staring out into the distance. "Poor kid; he's lost everythin' ain't he?"

With a huff, Soldier stubbed out the cigar he'd been smoking. "Not everything," he grunted, rising to his feet and coming over to Otacon's side.

Otacon felt his presence and turned to look at the older man, almost numb now that adrenaline had washed away. "Soldier..."

"Once we get you to the mainland, you gotta figure out where you're going from there," Soldier said plainly, looking from Otacon out to the archipelago, islands passing in and out of one another's shadow. "Any ideas?"

"I-I don't know," Otacon admitted, following Soldier's line of sight. The boat cornered around an island, and a long snowfield came into view in the distance; the frozen bridge between Shadow Moses and the mainland, iced over this time of year. "I probably can't go back home, anymore. But I need to do something. I have to keep pushing forward, but..." He took a deep breath. "I just tired of always being a spectator in life. I'm ready to live. I'm gonna stand on my own two feet. I'm not gonna hide anymore." He removed his stealth camouflage module from his coat and looked at it for a long moment, turning it over in his hands. With a grunt, he hucked it out into the ocean, watching as it disappeared beneath the waves. "I need to find a new path in life. A new purpose."

Barely visible under the albedo of the morning sun on the fresh show, a shape crossed the snowfield, scarcely more than a black dot in the distance, but they both knew what it was: Snake and Meryl, astride a snowmobile, riding to uncertainty, and a new beginning.

Riding to freedom from the past.

Just like Otacon.

"You think you'll find it?" Soldier asked.

"I know I will."

Soldier grinned. "I believe in you."

A flush rose to Otacon's face, embarrassed at the plain-spoken vote of confidence. He turned away, scratching a hand through his hair. "Ahah, well, that's you and Snake, huh?" A smile slipped across his lips. "Can't disappoint both of you, can I?"

The End

[typingatlightspeed]

Metal Gear/TF2 Crossover - cp_shadow_moses_event Chapter 17

The mercenaries are ushered into the nearby parking garage for an execution while Liquid and Solid hash out their family drama with an awkwardly homoerotic fist fight on top of REX's smouldering corpse. Otacon tries to make a noble sacrifice but Soldier's there so good luck with that, buddy. Also there's a car chase and Liquid remembers that whole FoxDie thread that needs tying up.

Ao3 Link!

Canonical character death, unsurprisingly! Also the mercs kill a lot of dudes but we're glossing over that. Car chases are also hard to write but after chapter 16 ANYTHING is easier lol.

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"Get them out of here and deal with them!" Liquid hissed to a rapidly assembling team of genome soldiers flooding into the hangar. "I have business to attend to with my brother." He lifted Snake's unconscious body over his shoulders in a fireman's carry, looking with disdain to the slowly rising mercenaries scattered around the room. RED and BLU in equal measure found themselves held up at gunpoint, weapons confiscated, urged groggily to their feet with hands in the air. It took two soldiers each to lift the Heavies' miniguns.

"Snake!" BLU Scout shouted, making to dash after his comrade but finding the muzzle of a FAMAS rifle leveled between his eyes.

"Just do what they say," Spy snorted, watching as Liquid carried Snake away, over to where REX sat, broken and inoperative.

"You gotta be kiddin'!"

"He isn't worth a bullet in your skull," Spy snapped as the teams were slowly forced to file out of the hangar through smallish doorway.

"This is fuckin' bullshit. After all 'a that," Scout spat, doing what he was told, gritting his teeth.

The REDs and BLUs found themselves marched into what looked like a small parking garage, a few jeeps scattered around, some with a flat bed behind the front seat rather than another row of seating, the space of each dominated by a pintle-mounted machinegun.

Once the mercenaries had filed in, the soldiers following behind them shut the doors.

"I am taking Sascha with me," RED Heavy said flatly, looking to his beloved minigun as the soldiers set it down. His BLU counterpart lifted an eyebrow in surprise at his gun's identical name.

He was a man of taste.

"You're not going anywhere," the officer replied, unfazed.

"So if we're not leaving, what are we doing?" BLU Medic asked, entirely too chipper while at gunpoint.

The genome soldiers readied their guns at their shoulders.

"The commander said to deal with you," the officer replied, sneering. "Men! FI—"

Before he could finish the word, his jaw was broken and he was on the ground, BLU Heavy's knuckles smarting from the impact. RED Heavy picked up his gun.

*

The cameras in the hangar weren't of much use anymore. The lights were mostly out, emergency lighting providing dull illumination by which Otacon could barely see the fistfight between Solid and Liquid play out. Two men, near-identical, battling with nothing but their knuckles for the sake of a legacy neither of them wanted. It would have been ridiculous if it weren't so tragic.

When Snake finally bested his brother, sending him falling from REX's head and roused Meryl from unconsciousness, Otacon breathed a sigh of relief to see her moving. He hadn't been sure he could take seeing anyone else lose someone they cared about.

Even if it made him uncomfortable to see her in his arms. Otacon shook his head. Watching couples being affectionate was always kind of awkward, though.

"She's alive!" Soldier crowed, grinning as he leaned over Otacon's shoulder to watch the display on screen.

"They both are," Otacon sighed, relief finally washing over him. "But we're not out of this yet. We have to get them and us off of this island before we can really breathe easy." He dialed in his codec to call Snake. "Snake, it's me."

Snake nearly sounded breathless, surely more than a little relieved himself. "Otacon, good news. Meryl's okay."

Otacon knew, but it didn't matter. It was so exciting to hear it from the man. "All right! You saved her, man! Good job!"

"I got some bad news, too. We're about to be bombed."

Otacon couldn't even bring himself to be surprised. They all knew it was coming. Even so, he felt the news like a mass of lead in his belly. "Oh boy. I guess we're considered expendable."

"Is there a way out of here?"

"A way out? Uh... yeah! You can take the loading tunnel to the surface. There's a parking garage right next to you. The tunnel leads from there to the surface." Otacon pulled up another window on the computer and set to typing.

"Parking garage?" Soldier leaned out of Otacon's personal space and pulled out his radio, dialing 111.11. He walked away as he hit the call button and grunted for an answer.

"The door in front?" Snake asked.

"No, it's a small entrance to the west of that door.

"How about the security?"

Otacon hit a final key and grinned. "I just unlocked it. Who do you think you're talking to? I'll take care of security along your escape route, too."

That sounded an awful lot like not getting out of the base. And Snake knew Otacon was in just as deep he was. "What are you going to do?"

"Me? I—" Otacon looked at Snake and Meryl on the monitor, a sad smile crawling across his face. Love could bloom, did bloom on a battlefield. Not just between them. Not just his infatuation with Wolf. Otacon looked to Snake, the soft smile that quirked his lips, and couldn't help but smile with him. He couldn't help but laugh. Maybe Soldier had been right all along. Maybe. And maybe that was worth fighting for. Loving someone means you have to be able to protect them. "I'll stay here."

"Are you crazy?" Snake asked, sounding almost panicked on the other end of the codec.

"I need a little more time to take care of your escape route."

"But—"

"Unlocking the security doors is difficult work. Only I can do it."

"Otacon..."

"Don't worry. I'm staying here. It's my own decision."

"Otacon, this is a hardened shelter, but they're going to use a surface-piercing nuclear bomb. It won't hold!"

Otacon shook his head, adamant. "I'm through regretting the past. Life isn't all about loss, y'know." He smiled, taking a deep breath. "Snake, I'm a complete person now. I've found a reason to live."

"Good. Don't die on me."

"Same to you," Otacon replied with a grin. "Take care of Meryl, okay?"

"I will."

"Okay, I gotta go. I promise I'll do something about your escape route."

"Thanks," Snake said, softly.

"Thanks? ...oh that sounds nice."

"I believe in you."

Less of a lead weight in his belly and more butterflies. "Thanks, Snake." He cut the channel and began pulling up the security protocols.

Until Soldier clapped a hand on his shoulder and made him shriek in surprise, having forgotten the man was still behind him. He half-turned to look back at him, seeing the lantern-jawed mercenary holding his radio up. "You are not going to get the opportunity to make any noble sacrifices for the man you love today, maggot!"

"Wha—"

"RED and BLU have the security handled. You and I need to get moving so we can get to the evac position and rendezvous with our boat."

"They what?"

"They are killing all of the genome soldiers in the parking lot and are securing transport."

"But the security doors!"

"Between those two Demomen, there's not a door in America that can stop that much ordinance. Come on. I'm not letting you die here, private!"

"But Snake—"

Soldier spun Otacon's chair around, bracing his hands on the engineer's shoulders as he leaned down, bringing them nearly nose-to-nose. "If there is one thing on God's green earth I trust more than my own two hands, it's my team. And I've fought those dirty REDs enough times to know they give as good as they get. There's no safer place to be for Snake and Meryl than with those soldiers, son. And I made a promise to keep you safe."

Otacon swallowed hard, meeting Soldier's eyes. They were startlingly blue. "You're sure."

Soldier didn't say a word. He simply held Otacon's gaze.

"Okay. But let me get the outer door at least. Where's the rendezvous point?"

"Punch it in, then follow me."

*

"Hurry!" Meryl called, dashing ahead of Snake into the parking garage. She skidded to a halt at the sight of seventeen heavily armed men, two of whom were in the middle of fiddling with the wires under the steering wheels of the jeeps dotting the rooms. Several of the jeeps were already active and idling, their engines grumbling away. "Damn!"

"Meryl! What—" Snake trotted up behind her, slowing to a saunter at the welcome sight of RED and BLU waiting for them, a genuine smile crossing his face. "Don't worry," he said, giving Meryl a nod. "They're with us."

"The mercenaries?" she asked.

"So this is that Meryl you been talkin' about? Sheesh, no wonder you were broken up about 'er gettin' in all 'a that trouble! Ain't many girls that pretty gonna hang out with a piece 'a beef jerky like you!" BLU Scout teased, sauntering over to throw an arm over Snake's shoulders and gently bump his knuckles against the man's chest, grinning broadly.

"Aye, like the lasses are flockin' tae ye," BLU Demoman shot, sitting atop the hood of one of the jeeps. Behind him, BLU Sniper was hanging out of the driver's side, fiddling with the vehicle's electrical system.

"What're you guys still doing here?" Snake asked, ignoring Scout as the younger man slipped off of him with a pout.

"Waiting for you, of course," RED Spy replied with a genteel smile. "Our employer is dead by your hand, and the BLUs here have chosen discretion over valor."

BLU Spy rolled his eyes. "If we're all going to be bombed into oblivion, the details of our contract seem pointless at this point, non? Not even a hidden Australium cache can survive a surface-piercing nuclear missile."

Snake's eyes widened for a moment, before he realized he still had the bug on him. Of course Spy had known everything he'd heard from Campbell and Houseman. Which meant... "We need to get moving, then. Otacon's staying behind to get us out of here. We need to make sure to give him enough time to get out, too."

One of the jeeps roared to life, and BLU Sniper crawled out of it with a triumphant grin. "That should be the last one on my end."

The RED Sniper sparked his own jeep, the engine turning over with a growl, his voice coming muffled from under the dash. "There's me!"

"Yet again, the innate ability of Australians to hotwire any vehicle ever manufactured proves to be to our benefit," RED Spy grumbled, shaking his head.

"I can show you the innate ability of Australians to kick your haughty arse," RED Sniper growled, crawling out of the jeep.

"Haughty. I'm impressed by your vocabulary, bushman."

BLU Spy and Sniper shared a look, the latter speaking up, "Oi, you two can play slap slap kiss kiss when we're outta this mess, yeh?"

The REDs in question balked, leveling venomous looks on BLU Sniper, who shrugged, nonplussed.

"Don't worry, Snake," BLU Scout said, breaking up the awkwardness, "we got a call from Soldier. 'e's still with Otacon, and is gonna make sure 'e gets out safe. We got enough jeeps runnin' for all 'a us, so we just gotta pile on an' get outta 'ere."

RED Sniper slapped the jeep he'd just hotwired. "Your chariot awaits, mate."

"Thanks," Snake replied.

Meryl rushed over and hopped in the driver's seat. "Hop on, Snake!"

Snake leapt onto the flat bed of the jeep, taking up position at the mounted machinegun as the other mercs piled into their rides. The Scouts and Snipers hopped into driver's seats, four jeeps in total laden with men and munitions peeling out and racing ahead of Snake and Meryl into the loading tunnel, whooping and hollering as they sped toward freedom.

Sodium lights whizzed by in a blur of orange, the roar of engines echoing up and down what felt like an eternally long tunnel. Darkness lay ahead, security doors closed off behind security checkpoints manned by security personnel. By the time Snake and Meryl arrived at the first, the small station was awash in blood, genome soldiers gunned down by a hail of bullets as the Demomen arced sticky bombs onto the security door in a careful pattern. They nodded, counted down, and detonated the bombs in unison, blasting a hole through the solid steel doors and peeling the metal outward. Debris pelted every wall and surface, tinking off of the hoods of the jeeps.

"Los! Los!" RED Medic called, and they were off, barreling through the remnants of the checkpoint and through the door, onward.

"Cannae ye get this wee scooter goin' any faster?" BLU Demoman teased, bumping his shoulder against his team's Sniper beside him in the driver's seat as he cranked more stickies into his launcher. "Bloody Sunday drivers."

Sniper chuckled, leaning back and throwing one arm out over the back of the seat, hand coming to rest on Demoman's far shoulder. "Isn't it Monday, love?"

Medic poked his head between them, tugging his glove down to expose a wrist watch. "Actually, it should already be well after sunrise, Tuesday morning!" he giggled.

"No wonder I'm knackered," Sniper mumbled, giving Demoman a squeeze before returning both hands to the wheel.

Two additional security checkpoints slowed their progress. Two additional security checkpoints were shredded with explosives and gunfire. As they tore out of the third checkpoint, RED Demoman went to reload and frowned. "Out o' stickies!" he called.

"You want me to set up a dispenser on this here jeep?" RED Engineer yelled.

"Ye and I both ken ye dinnae have that level 'o balance, lad!" Demoman hollered back with a laugh. "Let's hope that's the last door, or we're in deep shite!"

"There! Light ahead!" Meryl called, craning to see from the back of the pack.

"We're almost there!" Snake said, turning to see the pinprick of white at the end of the tunnel come into view and begin to grow. They'd curved around what looked like the final corner, and it was straight on to the surface.

An engine revved behind them. "Not yet, Snake!"

Snake turned back, stomach sinking. No. It couldn't be.

It was.

Liquid was roaring up the tunnel after them in a jeep, one hand clutching the steering wheel tight enough to dent the plastic, his knuckles white. In his other hand, he had a FAMAS rifle braced against his shoulder, its strap dangling, flapping in the wind. "It's not over yet!" he barked, eyes wide in mad fury.

Snake couldn't believe it. "Liquid!"

"Go, go, go!" RED Pyro yelled, slapping the top of the driver's seat behind Scout and bouncing on his toes.

"Cannot get clear shot!" BLU Heavy growled, leaning this way and that, Snake and Meryl's jeep blocking his line of fire.

"Me too!" his RED counterpart echoed, frustrated.

"GO!" Meryl yelled. "He wants us! He wants Snake! Give him fewer targets!" Taking a deep breath, she let up on the gas and let Liquid ram into them, jolting the jeep, slowing them both. The mercenaries thankfully listened and kept speed, tearing away with the lead time she gave them.

Snake blasted off a few rounds from the machinegun at Liquid, cursing as he fell back and ducked, swerving before firing his own burst to keep Snake juking. It was ridiculous, each man throwing lead into the air to force the other to blink. The worst part was Snake was pretty sure he was trying to hit him, but Liquid clearly wasn't. It was like a game to him. Cat and mouse, occasionally ramming the jeep as it slowly built back to speed, just to shake him, laughing with some twisted bloodlust the whole way.

The tunnel seemed to go forever, the pinprick of light growing so slowly it felt like they were making no progress at all. The stench of exhaust filled the poorly-ventilated space, the wake of the mercenaries gunning it for the surface ahead of them. Snake almost wished he and Meryl had lead the pack. That way he and the teams could bombard the British bastard with as much munition as humanly possible and put him down for good.

A helicopter crash.

Rockets barely a few feet from him.

REX exploding.

Falling multiple storeys to a cement floor.

How in the hell was Liquid still alive?

Snake thought back to every explosion, every bullet, every knife wound, every fall, every broken bone and drop of spilled blood he'd racked up over the course of his training and career. He thought back to every improvised bandage and splint, every time he'd had to stitch something closed with the needle and glorified fishing line in his field-dressing kits, every lighter-and-knife cauterization, every time he'd had to grit through agony and keep dragging his body forward, fueled by nicotine and MREs and sheer bloody-mindedness.

Thinking back to all of that, it actually made too much sense.

Terrible children, huh?

...yeah.

Natural light began to creep in at the edges of Snake's vision, sunlight finally reaching deep enough into the tunnel to be seen without staring directly into it. They were close to the surface, with Liquid hot on their heels. His plan was ruined, his team dead, everything he'd worked for in ruins. And in the end, as he grit his teeth and spat and cursed, all he wanted was Snake, broken and bloody at his feet. All he needed to do to win, was kill his twin.

Even if they reached the surface, it wouldn't end.

"Look, Snake! Daylight!" Meryl called. They were nearly there. She could feel the air grow colder, fresher.

Liquid slammed his foot down, coming up alongside the jeep, nudging its rear corner with his bumper in an attempt to PIT-maneuver it. Meryl yelped, correcting for the swerve and scraping the jeeps together as Liquid used their lost speed to race ahead of them. He jerked the wheel, kicking the back of his jeep out, swerving sideways in front of them, a mad grin burnt into his features.

Meryl yelped, "We're gonna crash!"

KRSHUNK

The impact came up on Snake faster than he'd realized, snow shoveling itself into the neck of his sneaking suit as he collided with the cold, hard ground, a bounce and a roll ending in a heap of tangled limbs.

Then the jeep landed.

Pain—sharp, rather than the dull ache of landing—shot through Snake's legs up through his hips, making him jolt and bite back a cry. The jeep had landed atop him, upside down and listing to one side, pinning his legs underneath the dash. It pinged loudly, overheated, metal cooling rapidly in the freezing Alaskan air. Smoke rose lazily from the engine.

Beside him, Meryl lay, crumpled and pinned, same as him.

"Meryl, are you okay?"

Meryl groaned, "Yeah, just a little shook up."

"Meryl, can you move?" Snake asked, trying and failing to tug his legs free, jerking as he pitched up onto an elbow.

With a few grunts of effort, Meryl shook her head. "It's no good. I can't move."

Snake sighed, looking around. In front of them, the other jeep lay on its side, smoking. "What happened to Liquid?"

"I can't see him, either."

"Liquid's dead?" It didn't seem possible. A jeep collision? That was nothing in comparison to what he'd already survived. He heard shifting from the other jeep, and a shape round its hood. "Oh no."

Liquid lurched into view, limply holding the FAMAS in one hand, bleeding and limping. Every step looked like a herculean effort, but all the same, the wild fury in his eyes would not be quelled. "Snake!" he bellowed, ragged and unhinged.

Snake and Meryl struggled, trying to pull themselves free. They were stuck, unarmed and immobile, as the man who sought nothing but their deaths trudged toward them with murderous intent.

"Snake," Liquid growled, shouldering the FAMAS, taking aim. He was wobbly, losing blood rapidly. The colour was draining from his face.

Then, it happened.

"Fo—" he gasped, as pain slammed into his chest, as his heart pumped out its last in a flurry and a fury, then went still. It had finally gotten him. His time was up. The Pentagon's plan had come to fruition. He would never have had time to use the vaccine he demanded in the first place.

They would have always won.

He'd lost before this had even truly begun.

Liquid lost his grip on the rifle, legs buckling out from under him. "Fox..."

Snake's eyes went wide. He'd almost forgotten about the virus he carried, custom tailored to dispose of Anderson, Baker, FOXHOUND, Liquid... and him. "...Die," he breathed, realizing.

Liquid fell forward to the snow, face-down. He reached out to Snake, to his brother. The breath wheezed out of him, his arm went limp, and he was still.

It was over.

Snake swallowed hard. "If he's dead, that means..."

"Don't say it, Snake."

Snake frowned, changing the subject. "What happened to the air raid? No stealth bombers in sight."

"I believe we no longer have to worry about that." The smell of cigarette smoke hit Snake, and he jerked, startled as BLU Spy rounded the jeep with a smirk.

Metal groaned as the jeep's weight was lifted off of Snake and Meryl. Heavy hefted the machine up, then turned and pitched the entire thing off of the cliff upon which they'd exited. The jeep sailed over the edge and crashed off of the rocks before dropping into the freezing ocean below.

"What do you mean?" Snake asked, slowly climbing to his feet, helping Meryl up in turn. He shrugged a little and tried to brush the snow out of his collar.

"Doomsday has been canceled, for now," Spy simply replied. "Ask your Colonel when you have a moment."

Snake looked around, seeing four jeeps parked to the sides of the tunnel's exit, but only BLU mercenaries standing around. Pyro had already elected to light something on fire and was standing by it, trying to keep warm. "Where's the RED team?"

"They run when we reach surface," Heavy said, huffing dismissively. "Cowards."

The buzz of propellers caught their attention as far below, a sea plane took off from the waters by the bottom of the cliff, streaking off at low altitude into the morning light.

"That's them, I guess," Snake muttered. "What about you guys?"

Scout threw an arm around Snake's shoulders. "What'd we say, man? We're stickin' with you 'til this is over! Which, I guess this means it is, huh?" He let Snake go with a clap on the back.

"Guess so," Snake replied with a smile, throwing an arm around Scout's shoulders in turn and trying not to smile too hard as the younger man beamed.

"We should make our egress as well," Spy announced, almost loath to cut through the warmth of not victory, but at least mutual survival. "Our ship should be waiting at our extraction point. And with it, Soldier and your friend."

"You're going to take Otacon with you?"

"We'll at least take him to the mainland," Spy hummed. "Our operations are largely classified, but a boat ride shouldn't violate OPSEC too much. Your friend will be safe in our hands. What he does once he's on his own, however, is up to him. He will likely need to be kept secure for a while, possibly obtain a new identity, depending on how important it may be for him to no longer exist following all of this."

"We should be able to point him in the right directions, at least," Engineer offered warmly. "After all, I'd hate to see the kid go down just for takin' the wrong contract. Lord knows I done enough 'o that in my time," he chuckled.

"Thanks," Snake replied with a soft sigh, one less thing for him to worry about as the lingering spectre of his own impending death gnawed at the back of his mind. He had no idea when FoxDie was programmed to end him, and the longer they stood there, the more tense and nervous he became. It was good to know the loose ends he left would be wrapped up by someone.

"With that, we must bid you adieu," Spy said, drawing himself up before offering a cordial half-bow.

The other mercenaries bid their goodbyes before beginning the long trudge to sea level and their extraction point, Snake and Meryl watching them go.

"You should call my uncle," Meryl said, once they had gone. "Find out what happened."

Snake nodded and dialed his codec.

"Colonel, can you hear me?"

"Snake! Are you okay?"

"Colonel, what happened?"

"The secretary of defense has been arrested..."

[typingatlightspeed]

Metal Gear/TF2 Crossover - cp_shadow_moses_event Chapter 16

The stage is set, the players are in place, the keys are in the ignition, and it's time for Solid and Liquid to clash alongside BLU and RED. REX is fully functional and Liquid's ready to crush anyone who stands in his way, or line of fire. Perhaps he gets too overzealous in the process.

Ao3 Link!

jesus fucking christ this chapter is too long if I ever decide to write a story basically made of combat scenes again put me in the fucking dirt

That said: Spot the One Thing I took from Metal Gear Solid: The Twin Snakes rather than the original MGS! :D

---------

The launch bay was monstrously large, wide open and exposed, with a hefty amount of scattered crates and barrels of supplies dotting one side. The moment the lift came to a halt, mercenaries scattered to the winds to regroup, leaving Snake staring up at the massive war machine in a mixture of awe and trepidation.

The pregnant pause seemed to stretch on; Liquid secure within REX's impenetrable maw, Snake standing before it a lone human, exposed and so small in comparison. Then REX shifted and stepped. Snake bolted, diving behind a crate to hide.

Snake's codec rang. It was Otacon. "Snake, REX's armour is impregnable. You can't do any damage with the weapons you've got. REX uses the latest advances in compound armour. The only way you can pierce it is with a high-performance HEAT round."

Not the best news. Regular explosives had been enough to handle TX-55, but this was a whole different class of Metal Gear. "So what do I do?"

"REX's pilot seat operates exactly like a VR system. It's got multiple sensors connected to a high tech interface used for the controls. It's completely self-enclosed and shut off from the outside environment."

"He's not using his naked eyes?"

"That's right, so if you could somehow destroy the sensors... Do you see that round plate on REX's left arm?"

Snake peeked out, spotting the large, thick, disk-shaped structure sitting at the end of the machine's stubby left arm. "Yeah, the thing that looks like a shield?"

"That's a radome. If you destroy that thing, it won't be able to use its electronic equipment."

"So he'll be blinded?"

"Yeah, try and hit that radome with a stinger missile."

"So that'll stop it?"

"No. REX was designed so it can be controlled manually, too."

"Oh, great," Snake grumbled, tucking back out of sight with a roll of his eyes.

"The part that looks like a beak is where the pilot seat is. In an emergency, it'll open up. REX's armour is perfect. You can't destroy it—"

"You told me that already."

"But the interior is a different story."

"I get it. First I destroy the radome. That'll force him to open up the pilot's seat."

"Right! If you can shoot a stinger missile into the cockpit, you'll destroy the computer control system."

"You intentionally designed it with a weak point?"

"It's not a weak point," Otacon shot back, sounding almost a little insulted. "I like to think of it as a character flaw. People just aren't complete without some type of character flaw, don't you think?"

"I guess so. I owe you one, Otacon." Snake closed the channel and took a deep breath, psyching himself up to run out there, missile launcher in hand.

Beside him, he heard a loud clang and nearly fell over in shock. It was BLU's Engineer, whacking a machine as it slowly auto-assembled, shunting parts into place as legs unfolded and a sentry gun built itself from parts whirring and clicking together.

"Howdy," Engineer chuckled upon being noticed. "Couldn't help but overhear; the radome's your target?"

"Yeah—"

"Intentionally designed. Glad to hear it, honestly," the Texan hummed thoughtfully. "Seemed amateurish for lil' Hal to put such a glarin' defect on there otherwise. I'd've been downright disappointed. Turns out he's just as clever as I'd thought."

"What about you guys?"

"REDs're still a pain in our ass, but once I get this baby up to level three, she can fire rockets too. Just gotta keep 'er intact in the meanwhile."

As if to prove his point, the RED Scout dashed past the crate, scattergun in hand, ready to pump a shot into the assembled men. The sentry beeped and began firing at the Scout, making him juke and backpedal. He fired, missing them and cracking the corner off of the top of the crate, before diving out of sight.

"I'mma get my dispenser up next, then see about upgradin' the sentry. You get on out there."

"Thanks."

Snake shouldered his missile launcher and tore out as REX immediately clocked him and began its assault, strafing at him with its vulcan cannons, a line of holes pocking the floor in an arc at his heels. The guns were too fast, too numerous, and he couldn't find a moment to take aim, let alone fire. With a grunt, he ducked behind a barrel and dug in his pack. He had to have a chaff grenade around somewhere, to hopefully jam REX's radar for a moment.

An explosion rocked the barrels, nearly toppling one over onto Snake as the BLU Spy flew past him, landing in a heap with a groan. He pulled himself up onto his elbows and looked over to Snake, who locked eyes with him and watched as they flicked upward, above him.

Snake looked up. RED Soldier was perched atop the barrel behind him, aiming his rocket launcher at the prone Spy. With a snort, he spun on his knee, bringing his stinger missile launcher to bear and pointed directly at Soldier's middle.

Soldier froze, looking down at Snake, startled that the man had made a move against him. "Thought you were neutral."

"That was until they threw in with me. No hard feelings," Snake replied, holding his position. At this range, if he fired he'd turn them both into paste. But he'd seen Solider rocket jumping, so maybe the man thought he was just as crazy. Snake hoped so, anyway.

"No hard feelings," Soldier confirmed with a grin. He shot a look to Spy, one telling him he'd gotten lucky, and peeled off, getting distance before picking a new target.

"Merci," Spy said, climbing to his feet and crouching down beside him.

"No problem," Snake replied, putting his back to the barrel and resuming his digging. He froze for a moment then looked to the rogue, who was busy reloading his revolver. "Hey Spy, can I get a hand?"

Spy looked up, a benevolent smile crossing his face as he clicked the wheel of his revolver back into place. "How can I be of service?"

"I need an opening to hit the dish on REX's arm with a few missiles. But Liquid's tracking my every move. Can you create a diversion for me?"

Spy's smile broke into a grin. He withdrew his disguise kit from his pocket. "Certainly, mon ami. So long as you make it count."

Snake nodded and watched with curiosity as Spy selected what looked at first like a cigarette, but proved to in fact be a rolled-up paper mask and donned it, seemingly transforming before his very eyes the moment it touched his face. Where Spy had crouched a moment ago, a perfect duplicate of Snake now squatted, smirking with amusement at the look on the original's face. "Pretty good, huh?" Spy asked, in Snake's own voice.

"Pretty good," Snake agreed with a chuckle.

"Make sure you make this count. I don't think he'll fall for this trick a second time," Spy cautioned. With a breath to prepare, he leapt up and began running.

Spy streaked out of cover, into REX's line of fire, dodging a bouncing red pipe bomb and ducking beneath an errant rocket as he pelted it across the room, sprinting for all he was worth.

"Found you!" Liquid barked, REX's head turning to follow him as the vulcan cannons fired, bullets sweeping in an arc and following Spy right up until they caught him, ventilating him and unceremoniously dropping him to the ground in a wet heap.

"SPY!" Snake swept out of cover, lining up his shot. He hadn't expected that, but he wasn't about to let Spy die for nothing. He squeezed the trigger and the launcher hissed and rocketed out a stinger missile, nearly bowling him over from the force as it shot out and streaked for the radome, slamming into it with a rattling boom, shreds of metal twisting and wrenching free.

REX reeled, sensors going wild, until it caught sight of Snake again. "What?! How?!" Liquid huffed. REX stomped, adjusting its aim. Snake dove into the cover of some crates as the cannons lit up the barrels, shredding them asunder.

Beside Snake, Spy appeared, uncloaking, holding a pocket watch in one hand. "I think that went well, don't you?"

"Spy!" Snake fairly yelped, nearly falling over. "You're alive!"

"This time," Spy said, gesturing with the pocket watch and tucking it away. "I don't think the Dead Ringer will work on him a second time. He's not nearly as stupid as the REDs."

"The radome's still functional. One missile wasn't enough."

"Then you'll need other openings," Spy said simply with a shrug of one shoulder. "Or other strategies."

"Engineer said he'd help when his sentry's up."

Spy held a finger to the earpiece under his mask. "Engie, eta on that level three sentry?"

"She's at level two now, but their Demo's been harrassin' the hell outta me, so it's goin' slow," Engineer replied over the radio.

Pyro's muffled voice cut in. "On it!"

"We need more explosives on that radome on REX," Spy reported.

"Aye, I can give ye a hand," Demoman replied, "but I'm pinned down by their Heavy and Pyro! Every time I try tae move, it's bullets. Every time I try tae pop a pipe, it's airblasted."

Snake nodded, opening the channel on his codec. "I think I can help with that. Just be ready when the opening comes."

"Aye-aye!"

Spy grinned to his companion, the thrill of battle coursing through his veins, and Snake was almost surprised to see the excitement in the man's eyes. Regardless of specialty, people in their line of work really were just like that, huh? "I'll keep them from getting a sentry operational. Good hunting," Spy chuckled, and rose, his cloak activating as he dashed out of cover and back into the fray, headed in the general direction of REX, behind which the RED Engineer was finishing up the assembly of a level one sentry.

Snake eyed up his target, the Heavy and Pyro pinning Demoman down in one corner, and planned his trajectory. There was a crate nearby. If he could slide behind it, he'd be in the clear. He already knew he could outrun REX's x-axis if he pelted it full-throttle. But he also knew he only had so much of that in the tank to start with. He tested his legs, getting ready to move. Adrenaline was still carrying him. Best not to waste it. With a hiss of breath, he bolted.

"THERE!" Liquid snarled, vulcan cannons whirring up and tracking Snake as he ran, growing ever closer with each step.

Snake sprinted straight for the REDs pinning the BLU Demoman down, ready for a head-on collision with Heavy and Pyro as the gunfire gained on him. Pyro heard the approaching racket first and turned, yelping with muffled terror and slapping Heavy in the shoulder. Both turned to see Snake coming, to see the hail of bullets at his heels, and the very clear and present danger it presented if he ran past or even into them. They turned on their toes and ran, clearing the way for Snake to barrel through and leap, baseball-sliding behind a stack of crates as the cannons caught up to him, clipping him as he slipped out of sight.

"Shit!" Snake hissed, clamping a hand over the holes in side, blood oozing out between his fingers.

"SENTRY DOWN!" came the furious cry from across the room as the RED machine in question crackled, sparked, and exploded, the sapper attached to it detonating.

With a roar, Demoman charged out of cover, dashing at REX and firing off a series of pipe bombs, four explosions rocking the radome and tearing chunks off of it, bending metal inward and sending up sparks.

Liquid growled over his mic, cursing and spitting as the mercenaries interfered. "So, you've chosen a side, have you?" he snarled. "Well that just means more targets for me!"

The vulcan cannons leveled on Demoman, who pivoted, shoving fresh bombs into his launcher as he made to run. It was too late. Bullets raked through the air and streaked for the bomber, who recoiled, fearing the end, only to find himself awash in warmth and peace, and feel something gently bounce off of him. He opened his eye to find himself glowing a bright blue, bullets ricocheting off of him like he were some kind of superman. Behind him, Medic glowed too, grinning madly, übercharge crackling from the medigun between them.

"Raus!" Medic called, jerking his head back to gesture to cover as Demoman nodded, firing off another salvo of pipes to cover their retreat.

As Medic and Demoman ducked into cover, Sniper snatched the bomber by his collar, "Maybe think of an exit strategy before gettin' the guy in the giant walkin' nuclear death machine to decide you're a juicy target?!"

"Aye, fair enough," Demoman replied with a grin, making the bushman roll his eyes and scoff in annoyance, letting go of him.

Sniper peeked out of cover, watching as the rest of the team now had Liquid's attention as well as the REDs on them. "This just went from bad to worse; we need that Metal Gear blind or else he's like to kark us before the REDs can, and they're on the bubble."

"Aye, but she's nae got much left in her. That radome's on it's last legs. Just need another push."

"Where's Snake?" Sniper asked, craning around. A rocket blasted past his head, forcing him back into cover. "Scout, you got eyes?"

"Not yet! Snake? You there buddy?" Scout called, both on and off the channel, his voice barely ringing out over the din. "Snake?"

Silence.

"Snake?!"

"Silence.

"SNAKE?!"

A soft grunt sounded on the radio, and Scout nearly stumbled as he skidded under a bouncing pipe bomb and racked off two shots into the RED Demoman's legs before diving over a crate, only to nearly land atop the man himself, slumped against it in a puddle of blood.

"Oh shit! Doc! I need you over here, pronto! Snake's hit, and he ain't doin' good!"

"Scheiße," Medic hissed, checking the übercharge on his medigun. It wasn't even close to ready yet. "I'm on my way! Heavy! Cover me!"

"Go, Doktor!" Heavy roared, ducking around a crate and filling the air with gunfire, sending REDs diving and careening out of the way as he sprayed lead, suppressing the other team and giving Medic an opening to dive between containers and teammates until he could teach Snake.

Medic hit the deck the moment he was in cover, training the medigun on Snake and throwing its switch, the blue vapors going to work instantly curling into Snake's wounds and forcing the flesh to knit from the inside out. The soft pings of bullets being forced out of his body were drowned out by the sustained gunfire and explosions rocking all around them, and soon enough, Snake could breathe again, pulling his bloody hand away from the closing wounds with a look of shock.

"How?"

Medic merely tittered with pride, giddy at getting to see someone interact with his medical breakthroughs for the first time. It had been so long, all of the mercenaries practically saw his godlike advances as mundane. "If I tried to explain, we would be here all day," Medic chuckled.

"Thanks," Snake huffed with a smile, climbing to his feet.

"Sentry up!" Engineer called, violent glee in his voice as he tugged a remote control from his pouch and activated it, a blue sheen surrounding the contraption as he assumed direct control, pointing its targeting laser directly at the radome. He tapped a button on the controller, and four rockets streaked from the launcher pod on the top of the sentry, soaring across the launch bay to crash directly into the radome with a fiery blast and the screech of metal.

REX went still a moment, Snake rushing out to confront it, launcher over his shoulder. He wasted no time, hammering the radome with another missile, sending sparks and chunks of twisted steel flying. The arm holding the bent and smoking remains of the radome shook it to and fro, trying to eke a reading out of the thing as electricity crackled from its shredded wires. "Did that do it?" Snake muttered to himself.

When REX reared up with a roar like some horrible creature's rumbling through its loudspeaker, he got his answer, stepping back in alarm as it took one massive step forward. "Nice try, Snake!" Liquid bellowed, frenzied. "Die!" REX stomped after him, intent on crushing the comparatively minuscule man underfoot.

Until its foot didn't come down to the floor.

Snake gasped to see a man holding REX's foot up overhead with his hands. Grey and khaki metal and plastic flexed and bulged; that tortured, rasping voice barking, "Hurry! Get away!"

It was him. Snake leapt back. "Gray Fox!"

"A name from long ago," Fox sighed, straining as he held REX aloft and off balance. The face plate of his helmet was open, exposing the pale, narrow-eyed face Snake knew so well. "It sounds better than Deepthroat."

"So it is you," Snake replied in wonder as he slipped back into cover.

"You look terrible, Snake. You haven't aged well," Fox teased.

Liquid reared REX up, pulling its foot out of Fox's grip and extending the spikes on it to puncture into the floor as he stomped down, barely missing the cyborg ninja as he leapt away gracefully. Fox backflipped into the air as Liquid gave chase, the plasma cannon mounted on his arm charging with a bright light before discharging a shot into the crux of REX's arm holding the radome, severing more of the cables connecting it to the rest of the machine's systems. He landed beside Snake, behind a large set of crates, with startling nimbleness.

Snake knew this wasn't some act of altruism. Not after their encounter in the labs. "Fox, why? What do you want from me?"

"I am a prisoner of Death," Fox explained. "Only you can free me."

"Fox, stay out of this. What about Naomi? She's hell bent on taking revenge for you."

"Naomi..."

"You're the only one who can stop her."

Bullets sprayed blindly around the room, sending RED and BLU scattering in equal measure as Liquid fought with the dying sensors of REX's VR cockpit. He couldn't see anything, the signal garbled and coming in fits and gasps, sputtering and dying as the radome failed. He roared in frustration, stomping REX's feet every which direction, cursing Emmerich's name at the ridiculous design flaw.

"No... I-I can't," Fox sputtered. "Because I'm the one who killed her parents. I was young then, and couldn't bring myself to kill her too. I felt so bad that I decided to take her with me. I raised her like she was my own blood, to soothe my guilty conscience. Even now she thinks of me as her brother."

"Fox..."

"From the outside, we might have seemed like a happy brother and sister, but every time I looked at her, I saw her parents' eyes staring back at me. Tell her for me. Tell her that I was the one who did it."

REX snapped to attention, a phantom shape coalescing in Liquid's targeting screen. Was it Snake? Did he care at this point? Everyone in that room but himself was expendable. As long as he killed his erstwhile brother, it didn't matter who died with him. "There you are!" he snarled, opening up with the vulcan cannons on the target he had glimpsed and strafing sideways, punching through several of the battered and blasted crates, finally taking them to pieces.

RED Heavy roared in agony before his breath cut out, lungs collapsing as both were punctured in the hail of bullets, his torso pierced and shredded, watching with wide eyes as the rest of his team dove out of the way, those in cover catching strays and hitting the floor amid screams. BLUs ate shots too, their sentry rent asunder as their Pyro shoved their Engineer out of the way, nearly losing an arm in the process, half the thing blasted away and holding on by strings of viscera and the rubber of his suit. The floor was cold when Heavy hit it, the blood running out of him quickly warming his back as it pooled under him. It was too soon for the cold of death to creep in, so he found himself in that uncomfortable temperature purgatory between, mouth gawping, trying to draw in breaths that could not come, his vision blurring. He would suffocate before he bled out.

"Nein, nein, nein!" RED Medic screamed, clambering out of cover and ignoring the blood gushing out of his thigh as he nearly fell atop his Heavy. He wrenched the medigun's switch on and set it on the giant, terror in his eyes until he finally heard the wet gurgle of an actual breath being taken, Heavy gasping as his lungs closed enough to bring in air, even though blood still pooled within them. "Heavy, are you with me?"

"Always. We go together, Doktor," Heavy mumbled wetly, reaching a hand out to lay atop the other man's, where it gripped the medigun.

"We're just about out of time," Fox said, looking to the destruction REX was wreaking. "Here's a final present from Deepthroat. I'll stop it from moving!" Dashing past Snake and out of cover, Fox sprinted for REX.

"FOX!"

Liquid caught sight of the ninja running for him and unleashed a barrage from REX's cannons. Fox leapt away, only for Liquid to be ready for his acrobatics this time. REX's laser shot, slicing Fox's arm from his body, a gush of crimson splattering to the ground accompanied by the wet thud of his limb falling uselessly away. A short, sharp shot of agony was quickly clamped down by the nervous system controls of his cybernetics, shutting off all sensation from the point of amputation. Another spray of bullets chased Fox the moment he landed, following him as he ran until he reached the wall. A superhuman leap took him halfway up its height, alighting gracefully upon a crossbeam to turn and face his pursuer, raising his plasma cannon to fire again.

By the time he'd turned, it was too late to register that REX had given chase, and was right there. It slammed its beak-shaped cockpit into him, crushing him between it and the wall as a series of cracks and snaps filled Fox's ears and the air left his lungs.

Slowly, the rest of the gunfire and explosions ceased, both teams now fired upon by Liquid finding their worries about one another supplanted by the walking death machine in their midst. Mercenaries watched in horror as blood painted the wall and seeped from Fox's shoulder, pinned and helpless.

"In the middle east, we don't hunt foxes, we hunt jackals. Instead of foxhounds, we use royal harriers," Liquid bragged, deeply amused at his prey's predicament. "How strong is that exoskeleton of yours?"

"English," BLU Demoman growled.

"Bloody poms," BLU Sniper agreed.

"Snake! Are you just going to sit by and watch him die?" Liquid taunted.

Fox grit his teeth, the plasma cannon on his remaining arm glowing a sharp blue as it charged up. He fired wildly at the radome, at the arm holding it, hissing with what little breath he had left, "A cornered fox is more dangerous than a jackal!" Plasma slammed into the radome, peeling away metal, shredding cables, and with a blinding flash of electrical fire, the thing exploded, raining shrapnel and sparks to the ground below as black smoke belched from the wreckage. Fox went limp.

"He destroyed the radome!" Snake gawped as REX reeled back, unpinning Fox, who flopped down onto the girder in a heap.

REX's beak dropped open, revealing the cockpit and Liquid seated within, looking far too thrilled for a man who'd thus far been partly thwarted. "Impressive!" he crowed, grinning like a madman. "You are indeed worthy of the codename Fox! But now, you're finished!" he roared.

Fox heaved out a wheeze, his shoulder moving as though he could to reach out to Snake, but for the fact that the arm was no longer attached. "Now! Fire the stinger!"

"Fox!" Snake gasped, missile launcher in hand. Liquid was right there, exposed, as was the cockpit. He could destroy it. He could kill Liquid and Metal Gear in one fell swoop.

But Fox was there. Mere feet away.

And Liquid could already see the hesitation. "Can you really shoot?!" he asked, daring him. "You'll kill him too!"

Snake took aim, finger on the trigger. This was his chance. The chance Fox had sacrificed to give him.

But Fox was still there, still alive. He could be saved. He'd seen what Medic's gun could do. It could heal someone from the brink. Surely, it could save Fox. He could be saved. He could be safe. He could see Naomi again.

Fox was hurt, and hurting, in his heart and mind, but shit, he had to be able to be saved. There had to be hope for Fox. There had to be.

Because if there was hope for Fox, there could still be hope for Snake, too.

Snake thought of his frozen cabin in the middle of nowhere, and the empty liquor bottles strewn about, covering tables, filling trash cans. There had to be hope for people like them.

There had to be.

"Now, in front of you, I can finally die," Fox hissed. "After Zanzibar, I was taken from the battle, neither truly alive nor dead. An undying shadow in the world of light. But soon... soon it will finally end..."

Snake couldn't do it. He'd killed Fox once already, and spent his life alone with his only friends left: Jim Beam and Jack Daniels. He couldn't do it. Not again.

His hands were shaking.

"He's not going to fire," RED Medic murmured, helping Heavy to his feet as the last of his wounds closed.

"He is not," Heavy confirmed, looking to Snake and seeing the horror in his eyes. "Cannot kill friend. Want to save him from coward in robot," he spat.

"I think our contract is up," Medic said, looking furiously up at REX, at Liquid, who was fully lost in the thrill of his own murderous intent.

"We kill coward BLUs another day," Heavy agreed. He looked to the BLU Pyro, slumped over his team's dispenser, arm finishing knitting itself back together. "TINY BLU PYRO!"

Pyro looked over in surprise.

Heavy merely pointed to himself, then to Pyro, then to REX. He drew a line across his own throat with his thumb.

Pyro nodded, understanding, and flashed a thumbs-up with his good arm. He turned to Engineer and relayed the news.

Liquid used the underside of the cockpit, REX's beak, to drag Fox from the ledge, letting him fall two storeys to the ground below with a meaty thump. "Die!" he howled, bringing REX's foot down atop him.

Fox knelt up, bowing his back, the last of his exoskeleton's strength holding the immense pressure of the massive robot at bay. "Snake," he gasped, pain receptors shutting off as his body slowly failed around him. "We're not tools of the government or anyone else. Fighting was the only thing, the only thing I was good at. But, at least I always fought for what I believed in. Snake..."

REX reared up, lifting its foot high.

"...farewell."

REX stomped down, the spikes at the front of its foot shooting down and punching into the concrete as it crushed Fox with a horrid crash of metal and bone. It dragged its foot, digging a trench in the floor with its spikes as it smeared what was once Snake's closest confidant across the stone in an arc of red.

"FOX!!!"

"Foolish man," Liquid spat, haughty and self-satisfied. "He prayed for death. And it found him. You see? You can't protect anyone! Not even yourself!" Flecks of spittle flew past his lips as he snarled and roared, "Die!"

Rockets streaked from the launchers astride REX's cannons, a salvo of two from either side of its massive head streaking right for Snake. The crates behind him were gone, and Snake didn't have time to run. This was it. This was—

PWOOOF

The rockets reflected off course, slamming into REX's knees as both RED and BLU Pyros jumped to Snake's defense, airblasting the rockets away in unison.

"Both of you?" Snake asked, shocked.

They both mumbled out an affirmative and flashed him a thumbs up before turning their attention back to Liquid. Snake grinned and shouldered his stinger launcher, ready for war.

A rocket slammed into REX's beak, jolting Liquid from the side and punching a dent into it as RED Soldier loaded up another round with a gleeful cackle. Beside him, the RED Demoman fed some fresh pipes into his grenade launcher.

The Engineers looked to one another and tipped their hardhats amiably, then peeled off to move their dispensers up to the line.

BLU Heavy brought Sascha to bear, her barrels spinning as BLU Medic followed at his heels, a giddy grin plastered across his face as their RED counterparts did much the same.

BLU Demoman cranked some fresh bombs into the chamber of his sticky launcher as Sniper beside him took aim at the cockpit, a blue laser dot homing in on Liquid as a red one did the same from a different vantage, RED Sniper crouching and scoping in.

As the laser dots settled on him, Liquid reached down to the side of his seat, snatching a lever and yanking upward, heaving himself back, forcing the seat to recline just as both shots punched into the ceiling of the cockpit.

*

"Damn it!"

Soldier looked over to Otacon, hunched over the computer monitor and watching the security footage from the cameras in the launch bay. "What happened?"

"I told President Baker putting an adjustable seat back wasn't a good idea!" Otacon huffed.

*

When a pipe bomb landed in Liquid's lap he yelped, snatching it up and hucking it away moments before it exploded uselessly in midair. "Damn then all!" he hissed, rising back up and taking hold of the controls. "You all want to fight?! Fine. I'll kill you all!"

Another salvo of rockets launched, the vulcan cannons firing wildly, laser strafing across the floor. A flurry of violence hammered down at the mercenaries, sending them scattering for cover.

"Medic, can you do that bulletproof thing again?" Snake asked as he and the BLU Medic posted up behind a crate.

"It has to charge; I cannot do it constantly," the doctor replied, medigun still trained on Heavy, who was grimacing as some stray bullets he'd caught pushed their way back out of his shoulder.

"The Pyros can reflect the rockets," RED Engineer said, "and without that radome, that laser he's got has to be controlled manually, meanin' Liquid's gotta track his targets personally. That kinda reaction time—even from some kinda super soldiers like you fellas—is gonna be surmountable. Our big problem is them vulcan cannons. Throwin' that much lead downrange's keepin' us suppressed, 'n' there ain't much we can do 'bout it."

"We need to disable the cannons," Snake confirmed, "but how?"

"I may have an idea," BLU Spy offered, holding out his electro-sapper with a smirk. "If I can take down a sentry with this, I can take down a cannon."

"A little gizmo like that ain't gonna do much to an entire battlemech," Engineer countered. "You'd need to get it onto the cannon's housin' itself for it to do its thing."

"We have the Snipers keep him pinned down and ducking by lining up shots to the cockpit. He'll try to stay out of the line of the lasers, meaning he can't easily aim his laser in return. The Heavy-Medic pairs can create a distraction for the vulcan cannons when their charge is full—"

"Eighty five percent!" Medic called.

"—and while he's focusing fire on them, we strike."

"You still ain't answered my question."

"The Scouts," Spy said. He tucked the sapper under his arm and began unlatching the watch from his wrist. "Amid the distractions, the Scouts move in under invis-watch cloak. If anyone can swiftly and quietly reach those cannons without drawing fire from the distractions, it's them."

"Quietly? Not drawin' fire? You met these boys, right?"

"Unfortunately. But I also know that at the end of the day, they are mercenaries," Spy assured, a glint in his eye. "And two men with their acrobatic abilities will draw far less attention than, say, rocket-jumping out to put the sappers in place."

"Australian cloaking technology can't function while offensive actions are being taken," Snake hummed, nodding along. "So the explosive jumps would short it out immediately."

"Exactly," Spy confirmed with a nod, pulling his watch off. "But Scout's athletics have no such limitations."

"And when the cannons are sapped, that's our opening to get as many explosives into the cockpit as possible. If we destroy the controls, we destroy REX's functionality."

"And your brother in the process," Engineer warned.

"He's my brother by blood, apparently," Snake said, shaking his head. "I don't even know the guy."

"I am fully charged!" Medic reported, his medigun crackling softly with energy. "Relay the plan to your team," Snake said, turning back to Engineer. "We need the Spies and Scouts ready, and make sure your Medic's got a full charge too. Get everyone on the same radio channel. We need constant contact to coordinate."

Engineer nodded and got on his radio as Spy flagged Scout down and gave him the details, handing over the watch and sapper.

*

"An AM/FM Ultra Sapper?" Otacon asked, pulling up a few schematics on the computer. "That should work, Snake! They disable the moving parts of machinery instantly, and slowly destroy them! It wouldn't work on REX in its entirety, but if you can get it onto the unarmoured parts of the cannon, it could destroy them!"

"So we have to get under the head's plate?" Snake asked, finger to his ear as he tried to hear his codec over the din.

"Yeah! That should give you the opening you need for sure!"

*

A set of barrels exploded as rockets slammed into it, another crate falling in on itself as cannon fire finally shredded through the steel enough to collapse it, perforated into oblivion. REX's feet stomped about, sending shockwaves through the floor with every step. Liquid cackled, delighting in the destruction as he blasted away still more cover.

He could easily mow through all of it, pulverizing every crate and barrel until there was nowhere left to hide, ventilating every mercenary and his dear, soon-to-be departed brother with next to no effort. Metal Gear was a war machine, the newest iteration of the perfect instrument of death. Not just a platform, but a weapon itself. But where was the sport in that? He had them all trapped, with no way out and dwindling places to hide. It was merely a matter of picking them off one by one and watching them panic and thrash. The phrase 'playing with one's food' came to mind.

Liquid supposed this wasn't particularly sporting, either. But he didn't care.

Blue flashed past his left eye, red past his right. He looked up to see laser dots alight momentarily upon the ceiling of the cockpit before dragging back down onto him, over his face. He ducked down, growling as his line of sight was obscured, and unleashed another salvo of missiles in either direction. He had to admire the mercenaries' will to live, their persistence. In another situation, he might have been glad to welcome them into his new Outer Heaven as brothers in arms, soldiers without borders. Shame, then, that they were caught up in this mess, and had to be put down.

Liquid didn't find himself too broken up about the whole affair, really.

The Pyros threw themselves into the fray, airblasting the rockets away. Liquid fired up the vulcan cannons and prepared to mow them down when the whirr of spinning barrels and the bellow of deep, throaty Russian voices drew his ire. Both Heavies had rounded cover and begun to fire, roaring as they began uselessly pelting REX's perfect armour with their overpriced rounds. Liquid grinned, glad to show them what a true cannon could do, and turned his aim on them. The crackle of electricity and a flash in red and blue each met the hail of bullets, each man's Medic showing himself behind them, übercharge deployed as the vulcan cannons' rounds bounced uselessly off of them, a stalemate of rapid-fire munitions.

"There's the charge, now go!" BLU Spy urged, clapping his team's Scout on the back and spurring the young man to action. He turned to see their RED counterparts doing the same, and peeked around cover to watch.

Both Scouts activated their cloaks and leapt from their hiding spots, the wavy shapes of their outlines disappearing into the din of visual information as the Pyros continued to deny rockets headed to their locations and the Heavies drew the cannon fire. Behind the lines, the Engineers moved their dispensers into position behind their Pyros, keeping their gas canisters topped up to continue their air blasting defense.

Snake threw up a signal to each side, sending the Demomen and Soldier scrambling into position. The moment they had their opening, they needed to capitalize. They were probably only going to get one chance at this. With a deep breath, Snake shouldered his stinger launcher, waiting.

The Scouts tore across the hangar, sweeping out in mirrored arcs to give a wide berth to the symmetrical standoff between Liquid and the Heavies, lest either of them catch a stray or ricochet and bungle the whole gambit. When they reached REX's feet, they leapt.

The tops of REX's feet were an easy landing for the fleet-footed athletes, toes barely touching their metal surfaces before launching them skyward, each Scout coming to perch atop REX's knee. RED Scout wobbled as REX took a step, spinning his arms in the air to catch his balance and dropping to a crouch to steady himself.

"Woah, woah, woah!" he hissed, trying to whisper into his headset mic.

BLU mirrored his crouch, waiting for the all clear. "You good?"

A short, heavy puff of breath rustled the mic. "Yeah. Next up, top 'a the head. This is the hard part. In three."

"Count it."

"One. Two. Three!"

The Scouts rose, running up REX's thighs, to where the machine's massive legs attached to the wide rod of its hips and its hunched torso, head bowed forward and presented. At the top of the leg, the mercenaries leapt outward in opposite directions, a leap of near faith, hoping REX's arms would be where they needed. RED's feet found purchase on the split-barrel of the massive railgun, the stealth mechanism by which it was designed to unleash nuclear annihilation. He clung to it, craning to look over his shoulder as he watched for his opening. On the other side, BLU had managed to catch onto the exposed framework of the remnants of the radome, metal groaning under his comparatively meager weight as he clung to the failing structure.

The radome shuddered, and BLU Scout tensed, eyes wide. He wasn't going to get to make the jump. He gathered his feet under himself, planting them against the flattest part of the jagged steel that had half-peeled away in the explosions that had rocked and destroyed it. REX took another step, and it shook the whole structure, chunks falling away unnoticed by the machine's pilot. Meanwhile, Scout scrambled for a stronger hold.

RED leapt from the railgun to the head's flat surface, crouching to keep his footing as the metal behemoth stomped around, and a yelp ripped through his ear.

"Radome ain't gonna hold!"

The head was right there, practically a hop for the athletic young man, but with a metallic shriek, the radome's structure began to collapse, and Scout shrieked along with it, kicking off with a prayer.

Scout had been the recipient of mid-fall clarity many times in his life. As someone who ascended and fell from large heights as both work and hobby, he was no stranger to the odd, almost soothing dilation of time that occurred as the body loses any and all ability to control its locomotion and merely exists in mid-air. Sure, that body was also hurtling toward the ground at startling speed, but the complete lack of purchase on anything and everything brought a kind of pre-oblivion peace that seemed to stretch on forever.

Only sometimes were those kinds of moments actually proceeded by a gruesome death for Scout. Most of the time it was merely grievous bodily harm. So maybe that bit of distended hangtime was his brain's way of giving him a little bit longer to appreciate being intact.

Either way, everything seemed to move so slowly in those moments; fuzzy, almost like a camera lens smeared over with vaseline. Sounds went muted, and lights grew just a little brighter. He almost missed the crackling fizz of a shorting cloak and wrapped hand reaching out blindly for him over the edge of REX's flat, T-shaped head.

Almost.

Focus closed in like a thunderclap, every piece of sensory input in the hangar slamming back into the vacuum at once, and Scout lashed out with an arm. The slap of skin on skin seemed deafening all of a sudden, as a calloused hand wrapped in friction tape grasped his wrist as his did the same, his shoulder screaming out an instant later as it took the brunt of his body's weight's battle with gravity and inertia. With a fizzle, his cloak shorted out.

"I gotchu!" RED Scout cried, bracing himself and slapping his other hand down to grasp his BLU double's arm tightly. He leaned back, pulling with his full weight, straining against the equal weight he was trying to heft up.

BLU Scout scrambled, grabbing RED's other arm and swinging his feet up to brace against the side of REX's head. "Start walkin' back! I got a foothold!"

"Yeah, sure thing!" RED did as he was told, tentatively stepping back instead of trying to lift, providing a counterweight as the BLU slowly walked up the side of the machine until at last finally tilting over, sending them both sprawling atop REX's flat head with a chorus of groans between them.

"Holy shit!"

"You good?"

"Yeah, holy shit. Never thought I'd find my ass gettin' saved by a RED," BLU teased, slowly climbing to all fours.

"Never thought I'd find my ass savin' a BLU," RED chuckled, pulling himself up to his knees.

The crackle of electricity and dying sound of the Heavies' roaring pulled the Scouts back to the present. Below, the Heavy-Medic teams and Pyros ducked back into cover, the übercharge spent.

"Scouts, are you okay?" Snake asked over the radio.

"Technical difficulties," BLU Scout replied a little sheepishly. "Gettin' into position."

The Scouts crawled across REX's head, inching towards its front. The cannons were mounted under the head's heavy armour plate, astride the cockpit with spotlights between. The heat from the freshly fired vulcan cannons could be felt from above, and the metal of the armour was warm to the touch. The cannons were going to be hot. They tugged the sappers from their belts and turned them on, each emitting a barely-perceptible whirr like the flash of an old camera firing up.

RED turned to BLU. "Count it."

"Three.

"Two.

"One!"

The Scouts swept their legs out front of themselves and slid down the mostly-vertical surface of REX's front. When their feet left metal, each lashed out with their free hand to snatch onto the barrel of the cannon itself. Searing, burning pain ripped through their fingers as they gripped with all of their strength, swinging themselves up into the underside of the head's plating and to the main body of the cannons and their ammunition magazines.

"Fuck!"

"Shit!"

Each Scout cursed and nursed his burned hand as he clamped the sapper onto the cannon's body and hit the activation switch. "Vulcan cannon sapped!" they called in to their mics in unison.

"The cannons are down! It's showtime! Get out of there!" Snake growled, leaping over a crate and directly into Liquid's line of sight.

Liquid snarled, thumbs slamming onto the cannon's triggers. "I'll crush you into dust!"

Nothing happened.

"What?!"

The Scouts slipped out from under REX's head, kicking off of his legs on the way down to weaken the impact as they hit the ground and sped into cover to pester their Medics to look at the raw, blistering flesh of their burned hands.

The Demomen emerged, leveling their grenade launchers. RED Soldier stepped out next to Snake, shouldering his rocket launcher.

Snake locked eyes with Liquid. "Now!"

The four of them fired, rockets and grenades streaking directly into the cockpit.

They barely had time to see Liquid slip out and to the floor as their artillery rocked REX, sparking a cascade of explosions that rattled the walking nuclear platform and filled the hangar, throwing everyone across the room from the sheer concussive force.

Snake slammed into the wall and sunk to the floor, vision blurry as darkness closed in, the murky outline of Liquid charging toward him, bleeding and predatory. Before he laid hands on him, Snake lost consciousness.

[typingatlightspeed]

Metal Gear/TF2 Crossover - cp_shadow_moses_event Chapter 15

Now that Snake knows how the PAL Key works, he needs to go handle the shape-memory alloy trickery. Luckily, BLU team's decided to back him up and help with all that nasty backtracking. Sadly, they've all been getting used, and Liquid Snake finally reveals his whole gambit and how they've all played their parts in his masterful plan. RED team makes their final defense!

Ao3 Link!

Making that Heavy/Medic and Demo/Sniper even more obvious, lol. Also plugging up a little verisimilitude hole that's driven me nuts for decades with a throwaway line from Engie (also subtle MGS2 reference :3). Here begins A Lot Of Fights Scenes, something I notoriously find Deeply Difficult to write, so I hope they're good! <3

---------

Snake sighed, plodding through the door into the freezer storage. If Otacon's instructions were right, all he needed to do was expose the PAL key to the temperatures of the room for a little bit and the shape-memory alloy that the key was made from would change itself to work for the second input. Entering the room, he barely had time to dart aside to avoid being blundered into by BLU's Scout, who tried to skid to a halt and ended up sliding on the frozen floor, tumbling over backward.

Heavy shot out a massive hand to catch the younger man, pushing him back upright with a smirk. Scout brushed himself off and tried to compose himself as he flashed him a grateful nod.

"Snake, you are back," the giant stated, eyebrow lifting in surprise.

"Yeah, I needed cold temperatures to get the PAL key for Metal Gear to work. Apparently I had all the keys I needed for a long time, just didn't know how to work them. Otacon figured it out, and so now I need to freeze it," Snake explained, pulling the key out and setting it atop a frozen crate nearby to rest and cool.

"A shape-memory alloy?" Engineer asked.

"Yeah."

Spy hummed, intrigued. "Clever."

"I didn't see RED on my way," Snake added, "so I'm not sure where they are."

"Well, Liquid hired 'em, so they can't be too far away from where he's creepin' around at this point," Engineer replied.

"Which is somewhere around the maintenance hangar ahead," Snake said, looking to the key and watching as the metal shrank and crinkled in different spots.

"Which means that's where we're headed," Scout assured him. "We're stickin' with you, Snake!"

The rest of the team rumbled various agreements, and Snake couldn't help but crack a smile at it. He tucked the key back into one of his pouches, careful to keep it away from his body heat. "Alright, follow me. There's a lot of climbing to do." He thought Heavy may have made a mournful sound as he turned and led the way back to the maintenance hangar.

*

"Shit, there really ain't nobody here," Scout muttered as they entered the maintenance hangar, the massive space stretching out above them. The mercenaries' sight was dominated by REX standing there, silent and inert. "'Cept big boy, I guess."

"Well lookee there," Engineer hummed, looking REX up and down. "Ain't she a beaut'? And lil' Hal designed this baby? Always knew that boy was goin' places."

"This way," Snake grunted. He led the team up the series of ladders and catwalks that surrounded and crossed REX, not bothering to wait for them to catch up. They didn't need to hurry, after all. He was just going to use the console and come back out. Once he had the frozen key in place and registered, he would need to heat the key. His mind churned, trying to figure out the best way to get it hot. His lighter would be too small to heat it evenly, and might end up just setting the thing on fire in the attempt or warping it the wrong way. The closest source of heat like the freezer was the foundry, all the way up at ground level. It didn't seem ideal, but the room was definitely hot enough to get the job done. Snake still felt a little dehydrated from all of the sweat he'd shed making his way through there the first time.

Reaching the control room, Snake inserted the key into the second laptop's drive and waited as it registered the cold key, the second pillar descending down into the console. Withdrawing the PAL key once more, he nodded. It was time to heat the key.

As he left the control room, BLU had finally caught up. "So what's next?" Scout asked, leaning casually against the railing of the catwalk. He'd been the first one up, right on Snake's heels.

"I need to heat the key up for the final shape."

"Heat it?" Scout turned to Pyro. "You got this?"

Pyro nodded and muffled out a helpful, "Mmhmm," bringing his flamethrower to bear.

Snake stared at him for a long moment. Oh yeah. There was a guy literally holding a flamethrower with him. Instantly, he felt a little stupid. "Sure. Let me put it down," he said, laying it carefully on the catwalk a little way away and getting out of the line of literal fire.

Pyro puffed some flames at the key, keeping it a little above the thing rather than just lighting it up, watching as the shape-memory alloy shrunk and expanded in different ways, crinkling around into a new arrangement at the exposure to the heat. When it stopped moving, he let up and let Snake go and reclaim the key, carefully handling it and glad for his gloves.

"Thanks, Pyro."

Pyro flashed him a thumbs up, bouncing a little on the balls of his feet gleefully, happy to be of service.

"This should deactivate the launch sequence," Snake announced, and headed back into the control room. The mercenaries watched through the room's window as Snake approached the laptop, only for his codec to ring. He stopped, answering the call.

Naomi's voice hissed in a soft whisper on the other end of the line, "Snake, can you hear me? It's Naomi."

"Naomi? What the hell?!"

"Campbell and the others are busy right now. I'm on a different codec..."

"He's takin' a call now?!" Scout grumbled, crossing his arms as he watched Snake talking, looking a bit alarmed.

"Whatever it is, it looks important," Engineer said with a half-shrug.

Spy held a finger to the earpiece under his mask, listening in. "Oh, you have no idea," he chuckled, privy to the personal drama unfolding between Snake and Naomi over the codec.

Engineer leveled a look at Spy. "Y'really think it's necessary to keep eavesdroppin' at this point? We're outright workin' with the feller now. Not like we need to keep tabs on his movements."

"True, but we should be keeping tabs on the exchanges between him and his team. After all, if they do bomb this place, this might be our first alert, and our chance to get out before we're all killed."

"I think you just love gossip too much to stop gettin' in his business."

Spy's lips drew up in a line, and he merely looked down at the stout mechanic beside him knowingly from the corner of his eye. He was right, but Spy wasn't going to dignify it by saying so.

Engineer laughed all the same.

"Still no information on Australium cache," Heavy reminded them, setting Sascha down gently. "Even if it really exist."

"For that matter, what do we even do if we happen across it at this point?" Medic added. "The assignment was to take and hold the facility for Herr Mann's client to come retrieve the Australium from, but if the US government might wipe it off of the map, that makes that impossible. The possibility of us all dying aside, of course."

"FOXHOUND and Metal Gear make everything too complicated," Heavy agreed. "But I know this. We will not die here. I will not let this happen." He wrapped an arm around Medic's waist, tugging the doctor close and eliciting a giggle from him. "We are team. Soldier will get out. Will be waiting for us."

"Yeah, a contract's a contract, but I ain't about to die for no Australium that might not even be here," Scout added with a huff. "An' we got zero intel on that stuff since we got 'ere. Nothin' from FOXHOUND, nothin' from Snake, nothin' from 'is team, nothin' from anyone. Only thing makin' me think there's even a chance a' it bein' here's the fact that those REDs've been tryin' to push us back, an' we ain't seen 'em since we hit the elevator. Which means I'm wonderin' if they seen the way the wind's blowin' an' cut an' run."

"Yes, tiny baby RED team are cowards," Heavy said with a nod.

"Just wish there was some way to know if it even exi—" An alert tone rang through the earpiece of Scout's headset, an incoming transmission. He held up a finger to quiet everyone and pointed to his mic. "Hol' up." He opened the channel, lifting an eyebrow. "Scout here."

"H-hello!" the voice on the other end ventured, shaky and nervous. "This is Otacon, I'm working with Snake."

"Otacon? You're the engineer guy who built the Metal Gear, right?"

"Yeah! You know about me?"

"Sure thing, pal. Engie's been big-uppin' you since 'e found out who you were," Scout chuckled, grinning as Engineer looked a bit embarrassed at being called out.

"O-oh! W-well, tell Dr. Conagher I say thank you! It's... it's been a long time," Otacon stammered out, a bit surprised.

"He says thanks, Eng," Scout chuckled, covering the mic for a moment before returning to the call. "Snake give you this frequency?"

"No, actually, Soldier did. He's here with me." Softly, the sound of Soldier saying, "Hello, Scout!" followed, muffled by distance from Otacon's mic.

Scout grinned, glad to hear his friend's voice. "So whatchu callin' for, Otacon? Or you just want a better conversational partner than Snake an' Soldier? Can't say as I blame you, Snake's the strong silent type for sure, an' Sol don't talk about much but the army an' his shitty ex-boyfriend so—"

Otacon forced himself to interrupt, "Well, I've been hacking into the personal files of the Arms Tech president, Kenneth Baker."

"The late Arms Tech president."

"Y-yeah. Anyway, I was getting Snake the information on how to use the PAL key to disable REX's launch sequence, but while I was there, I found a file about the Australium cache on the island, so Soldier told me to let you guys know about it."

"The Australium cache?" Scout asked, getting everyone's attention. He gestured to his headset, and the rest of the team tuned their radios to the frequency to listen in. "It's real?"

"Yeah, but he didn't want people to know about it. I had to do some extra legwork to get into that file. The gist is that it's in a dedicated sub-basement at the lowest part of the compound, deep underground."

"Wait, ain't we at the lowest part underground right now, in Metal Gear's hangar?"

"No. Apparently there's a room under the maintenance hangar somewhere, and that's where the Australium's being held. Only Baker had access to knowledge of the location, let alone the physical room itself."

"So how do we get down there?"

"That's the thing: there's zero information about that. Even in Baker's personal blueprints of the base, and from my knowledge of working in that hangar. Nothing goes lower than that level, no doors, no halls, no stairs or elevators. It's all on-level or upward from there. So I'm not sure how someone would even get into the cache."

"You think they got teleporters?" Scout asked, watching as Snake finished his codec call and began inputting the final PAL code.

"Teleporters?! How—oh yeah, Australian technology. I hadn't even considered that. Maybe, but they don't go very far, do they? The entrance would have to be somewhere nearby, and I've never seen anything like that down there."

"So then how—" Scout stopped abruptly as an automated voice rang out.

"PAL number three confirmed. PAL code entry complete. Detonation code activated."

Klaxons began to blare. Red emergency lights began to flash.

"No! Why?!" Snake barked, looking out at REX in a panic.

The automated voice rejoined, "Ready for launch."

"I deactivated it!"

Snake's codec rang, the channel opening to the sound of Master Miller's voice. "Thank you, Snake. Now the detonation code is completed. Nothing can stop Metal Gear now."

Confusion swam in Snake's head as he stared out at REX, uncomprehending. "Master, what's going on?"

"You found the key and even activated the warhead for us too. I really must express my gratitude. Sorry to have involved you in that silly shape-memory alloy business."

"What are you talking about?"

"We weren't able to learn the DARPA chief's code. Even with Mantis' psychic powers, he couldn't read his mind. Then Ocelot accidentally killed him during the interrogation. In other words, we weren't able to launch the nuclear device and we were all getting a little worried," Miller explained, his words dripping with patronizing amusement. "Without the threat of a nuclear strike, our demands would never be met."

"What do you mean?" Snake didn't understand, the words slamming against his brain and sliding down like rain against a window pane. It couldn't absorb.

"Without the detonation codes, we had to find some other way. That's when we decided you might prove useful, Snake."

"What?"

"First I thought we might get the information from you, Snake. So I had Decoy Octopus disguise himself as the DARPA chief. Unfortunately, Octopus didn't survive the encounter, thanks to FoxDie."

"You mean you had this planned from the beginning? Just to get me to input the detonation code?"

"Huh? You didn't think you made it this far by yourself, even with the BLU team, did you?"

"Who the hell are you?"

"In any case, the launch preparations are complete. Once the world glimpses the power of this weapon, the White House will have no choice but to surrender the FoxDie vaccine to me. Their ace in the hole is useless now."

"Ace in the hole?"

"The Pentagon's plan to use you was already successful... in the torture room." Miller chuckled, seemingly delighted by the whole charade. "Snake, you're the only one who doesn't know. Poor fool."

"Who are you anyway?"

"I'll tell you everything you want to know. If you come to where I am, that is."

"Where are you?"

"Very close by."

Campbell cut into the channel with the obvious, "Snake! That's not Master Miller!" "Campbell! You're too late!" 'Miller' barked.

"Master Miller's body was just discovered in his home. He's been dead for at least three days. I didn't know because my codec link with Master was cut off. But Mei Ling said his transmission signal was coming from inside the base!"

"So who is it?" Snake asked, desperate for any answers, for anything to make sense.

"Snake, you've been talking to—"

The false Miller cut in, his feigned American accent gone, his even, no-nonsense tone thrown aside. He spoke with an English accent and brassy aplomb. "Me, dear brother."

"Liquid?! How the—"

"You've served your purpose. You may die now!"

The door to the control room slid closed, locking as a yellow-green gas began to rapidly fill the small room.

"Oh shit, they're gassin' 'im!" Scout yelled, running to the door only to find it locked. He drew his pistol and fired a shot at the window to the room, the bullet catching in the thick, laminated glass, leaving a pock-mark but little else. "Otacon!"

"That's bulletproof glass, you can't break it with an ordinary weapon," Otacon replied, the clacking of keys loud through his mic.

"Can't you open the security lock? You're a hacker, right?"

"I'll try. I hope he can hold on."

Spy opened a channel and relayed the information to Snake, who was hurriedly pulling a gas mask from his pouch and tugging it down over his head, nodding in understanding to avoid breathing.

"I've hacked into security!" Otacon announced after a long, tense moment. "I'm opening the door!"

The door to the control room slid open and Snake charged out, ripping the gas mask from his head and gasping for air. Scout leapt aside to give him space. "You good, Snake?"

"Liquid," Snake hissed, charging past, out onto the catwalk. The BLU team turned as he passed, as they all came to see him. "LIQUID!!"

Liquid Snake was standing beside REX on a maintenance catwalk, shirtless and smug. "Snake!" He mimed removing a pair of spectacles with a smirk. "Did you like my sunglasses?"

"Sunglasses?" Scout asked, confused.

"Betcha he's got them codec visualizer nanomachines," Engineer hummed. "Kid's wired with 'em."

Snake drew his pistol, leveling it on the other man, his double, his brother, his clone.

"You'd point a weapon at your own brother?"

The BLUs froze, watching Snake for cues, unsure how to proceed. They stayed quiet, clustered up as Liquid began to monologue at his dear brother, explaining his masterful plan like some kind of spy movie villain.

Spy movies indeed. Pyro huffed, puffing out a short gout of fire from his flamethrower on reflex. His surprise at being met with a scream of pain nearly shocked him out of his chemsuit.

The RED Spy uncloaked, rolling to the catwalk to try and extinguish himself as cursing rang out below. The BLUs diverted their attention from the warring brothers down to the rest of the RED team, who were a level down, watching their Spy attempting and failing to assassinate someone while they were distracted by the nuclear apocalypse-flavoured Snake Family Drama.

"Bloody Spy!" Demoman roared, giving chase as the smoking and charred RED scrambled to his feet and fairly dove down the ladder to the level below, the rest of the team hot on their heels. Snake could handle his own business. They had their own to attend to. If the Australium was under the hangar, BLU needed to take the hangar. It was RED's last stand.

Pipe bombs flew over the edge of the catwalk to hail down on the level below, sending REDs scattering for cover as their Heavy brought his minigun to bear and tore through the metal above with a barrage of bullets. Demoman leapt back, Scout zipping past him and leaping over the edge, kicking off of REX to dive into the fray, bat in hand. He cracked it upside the Heavy's head before he could react, sending him stumbling as their Medic drew his bonesaw and sliced an arc through the air. It nearly cut into Scout, the younger man heaving himself backward in time for the blade to merely cut through his shirt and draw a thin red line across his chest before catching a tooth on his dogtags and wrenching away awkwardly. Medic made to strike again but was stopped by the blue dot of a laser sight zipping across Heavy's shoulder toward his head. He forewent chasing Scout, instead grabbing the giant by his bandolier and heaving him back with considerable strength, yanking him out of the line of fire a bare moment before BLU Sniper's bullet punched into the concrete wall where his head had been.

"Piss," Sniper growled, chambering another round. "Can't hit a bloody thing today."

"Everyone has an off day" Demoman teased. "Nae need tae show off. It's nae news ye ken yer way around a rifle."

"You callin' me a crack shot or a pouf?"

"Depends on whether ye wannae be on top tonight." Shooting him a wink (or was it just a blink?), Demoman hefted himself over the railing of the catwalk and onto the body of REX itself, landing atop its massive metal thigh and crouching low, waiting for the chance to strike.

Sniper snorted and took another shot, winging the RED Scout in the meat of his left arm, sending the young man tumbling to the catwalk.

An explosion shook the upper catwalk as RED Soldier fired a rocket into it from below, splintering the metal and making it curl up and away, creating a hole through which he was poised to launch himself, only to see the BLU Heavy standing there, glowing blue, his eyes shining with a yellow light as an übercharge coursed through him, his Medic at his back. The giant roared and let fly with a hail of bullets, peppering the catwalk below and laughing as REDs scattered and screamed, catching shots and losing blood as they scrambled away to regroup.

A red laser dot hovered over Heavy's chest, waiting for the übercharge crackle and spend out, the RED Sniper crouched around the corner and ready to strike. He watched through his scope, eye narrow, waiting for the flicker of light and opportunity. Until he felt a presence, the paranoid feeling that someone was there. He dropped the rifle, drawing his kukri and swiping at the empty air, only to watch it wobble and ripple with the shape of a man. He'd been right, but attacked too early. "Spy! You sneaky cunt!" he spat, launching himself bodily at the other man and bowling him over onto the catwalk, Spy's cloak shorting out.

Sniper knelt up, pinning Spy beneath him, hand on the man's throat and kukri raising up to chop him to death when the room began to rumble.

All eyes went to REX as Liquid leapt into its cockpit, which slid closed as the massive elevator beneath it groaned to life. "Snake!" he hissed, voice projected through a speaker on the exterior of the cockpit, "Your blood will be the first to be spilt by this glorious new weapon! Consider it an honour; a gift from your brother." REX stood to its full height from the squat it had settled in while inactive. Around it, catwalks began to clatter away and fall as the elevator began to lift it. A massive hatch in the ceiling slid open to allow it entry to the launch bay above, and REX began to rise. "Now I'll show you the power of the weapon that will lead us in the twenty-first century!"

Snake took a step back as another catwalk fell, seeing both teams of mercenaries struggling to keep their footing as the maintenance hangar tore itself asunder around them. "It's moving." Looking around for any recourse, he gave up on common sense and leapt from the catwalk onto the elevator platform itself, looking up at REX from its feet.

BLU Demoman clung to REX's leg, nearly shaken loose as it stood, and beckoned the rest of the team to follow. Sniper needed no encouragement, hopping onto the platform beside Snake and calling out for Demoman to come down as he slung his rifle around his back. The bomber didn't so much as leap as skid down the front of the Metal Gear's leg, kicking off at the knee and nearly knocking Sniper over as he collided with him, the bushman catching him to keep him from a harsh landing. The rest of the BLUs scrambled over quickly, Spy kicking the enemy Sniper off of him and scrambling under the railing to roll to safety. Swiftly enough, the REDs followed, fighting stalled for the moment as the last of the catwalks collapsed with a crash and they all rode with REX up and out of the maintenance hangar and into the launch bay above.

[typingatlightspeed]

Metal Gear/TF2 Crossover - cp_shadow_moses_event Chapter 14

Both teams reeling from the fight atop the communications towers, BLU and RED both handle what they thought was the death of BLU Soldier in different ways. Luckily the BLUs don't have to mourn long as Snake arrives and gives them some good news, and they offer him some help. Unluckily, RED Demoman gets the same news, and he has no idea if it's good or not.

Ao3 Link!

And before you ask: "Hey didn't RED Engie say he was the one who knew Otacon?"

Yes, yes he did. :3

---------

Scout heard the doors from the foundry open a bare moment before a blast of heat rolled in from the room, the sheer pressure of the moving air making his dog tags jingle. "Guys, incoming!" he called, only for a grin to cross his face as Snake walked into the room.

A warm wave of greetings went up from the assembled BLUs, startling the weary soldier, who seemed just as surprised to see them and they were him.

The room was large, wide, scattered with stacked crates and boxes, with a massive empty shaft for a funicular elevator at its rear, taking up half of the floor space, a small control station at one side of the hole. Perched around the room, mercenaries licked their wounds and checked their weapons. Medic was tending to Heavy, his gun trained on him in one hand as he leaned on the giant's shoulder as he sat and checked over his minigun for any issues. Demoman and Sniper were flopped atop a crate, leaning on one another quietly as they caught an extended breath. Pyro was sitting at the edge of the massive hole, legs dangling and kicking as he stared down into the abyss. Engineer was clanging on a large, rectangular machine, which was emitting a warm, blue, glowing vapor like Medic's gun did. It was currently being soaked up greedily by a rather battered and bruised Spy, who sat on the floor, leaning against it and holding the bridge of his broken nose. As the machine did its work, a wet pop cracked through the room, making Spy yelp, as the bone fixed itself.

"You good?" Engineer asked, clapping him on the shoulder and giving it a squeeze.

"Oui, merci," Spy replied wearily, sniffling.

The mood in the room was subdued, less boisterous and bombastic than Snake had seen so far, and it was clear that this last push had taken a lot out of them.

Scout hopped off of the crate where he was sitting and trotted over to him. Even his enthusiasm had dulled, and he slung and arm over Snake's shoulders in greeting. "Glad to see you made it down, pally. Figured when you went over the edge with Liquid chasin' you in that freakin' helicopter you were done for," he chuckled.

Snake shrugged off Scout's arm as respectfully as he could. "It wasn't easy, I'll tell you that. Especially not when I had to catch Soldier and bring him with me."

"Wait, Sol's alive?!" Scout fairly barked, rounding on him, all of that spark back in an instant.

The other mercenaries perked up, all eyes on Snake.

"Yeah, he is. He's safe."

Demoman and Sniper high-fived, letting out a mutual whoop of joy. Medic grinned, shaking Heavy who hefted a sigh of relief. Pyro cheered, pumping his fists in the air, while Engineer and Spy both fixed a grateful smile on Snake. Scout hopped in place, clapping Snake on the back with a bright, buck-toothed grin. "Fuck yeah, holy shit! You got no idea how glad we are to hear that, man. We thought we lost the guy when 'e got blasted outta the sky like that! The guys were wicked upset. Especially Pyro. I was tryin' to keep a stiff upper lip about it, though. Yanno, be strong for the team an' all. Someone's gotta be the guy to grit 'is teeth an' keep movin' forward, and that guy had to be me. I mean, I was bummed too, don't get me wrong. Soldier's a teammate an' all, but I wasn't ready to cry or nothin', not like Demo."

"Quit puffin' out yer chest, ye were the first one bloody freakin' out when we got in here, ye wee bairn!"

"Seem to recall, 'Oh god oh god we're all gonna die here! I'm too young to die! What're we gonna do; Soldier's gone!'" Sniper teased, arm around Demoman and joining the offensive.

"What—no I—man, some friend you are, Snipes," Scout huffed, looking between the bushman and Snake, who was already unimpressed and looking even less so by the second. "Wait so where is Soldier then?"

"He's helping my friend Otacon get to safety."

"Otacon?"

"Dr. Emmerich, the lead designer on REX," Snake clarified.

"Dr. Emmerich?" Engineer asked. "Wait, Hal or Emma?"

"Hal," Snake clarified.

Engineer nodded. "Makes sense. He always did like them robot cartoons," he chuckled. "Glad he's okay. I'd say he's in good hands, but he's with Soldier. So I'll say he's in capable hands."

Snake hefted out a soft laugh at that. Well, that answered which Engineer was the one Otacon knew, he supposed.

"How're you holdin' up there, Snake?" Engineer asked, folding his arms atop the dispenser to lean on it.

"Yes, are you injured at all?" Medic rejoined.

"I'm fine," Snake replied, waving them off. "Thanks. Just tired, with a lot more to go. Listen, things are starting to heat up, and I still haven't found the keys I need to disable Metal Gear. And if I can't do that, there's a strong chance the US is gonna bomb this place into dust to prevent FOXHOUND from launching a nuke, and to cover up any trace of this happening, regardless of who's still here when it happens. You should all be aware of that, since it's not your fight, and it'll sure as hell interfere with your mission."

"Yes, being dead tends to do that," Spy mused. "I was having the sneaking suspicion of the same, honestly. Monitoring your codec has proven to be an intense escalation. My condolences for miss Meryl, by the way."

"She's still alive," Snake replied firmly. "Wolf confirmed it."

"Excellent! All the more motivation to keep this island intact until you reunite."

Scout butted in, "So since Sol thinks 'e's gonna hog all the hero glory for 'imself, two—" he hesitated, then quickly counted the rest of the mercenaries in the room, "eight can play at that game. Far as we're concerned, we're your backup from here on out, Snake."

"My backup?"

"Oui," Spy assured him, casting a glare at Scout. "We've already discussed it, and this news from you confirms our decision." Various nods from around the room agreed. "Since our paths are parallel, and our survival is mutual, why not help when those paths cross?"

"That the real reason you guys helped me in the tower?"

"Call that a trial run," Spy replied with a smile. Snake noted with no small amount of curiosity that this smile reached his eyes, which seemed to sparkle impishly.

"We will need time to recover and prepare for our next push, however," Medic added, kicking a few of the bullets that the medigun had pushed out of Heavy down the elevator shaft.

"Will follow when we are ready," Heavy assured him. "Losing Soldier made end of push very difficult, very costly."

"I understand," Snake replied. "I'll go on ahead. Sneaking alone is still going to be the best way to get the information I need, but having you guys at my rear'll be a big help."

"Yeah, no problem! We gotchu, buddy," Scout assured him as he headed to the controls and called the elevator up.

*

The elevator platform upon which Metal Gear REX sat was stained with blood and strewn with bodies dressed in crimson. The RED team perched there, some sitting, some laying, all bruised and shot and burned and banged up. The fighting retreat up and down the tower had been a bloodbath, and as Engineer and Medic set up a dispenser and deployed the medigun, most of the team took heart in giving as good as they got. After all, they'd killed one of those troublesome BLUs finally, their Soldier getting blasted out of the air and sent hurtling to the ground from multiple storeys up. There was no way the man had survived the fall.

Demoman sat on the edge of the platform, staring into the middle distance, a bottle of scrumpy clenched tightly in his hand. He took a long, heavy swig and wiped his mouth, his eye refusing to focus as he replayed the scene in his mind over and over again.

Soldier—Jane—in the sky, screaming, hate in his eyes as he soared overhead, intent on stomping him into the roof with those manntreads of his. Him, burning hot with fury and the thrill of battle, popping off a pipe only to cross with his own team's rocket. The man should've been paste, bits and chunks of blood and gore and bone shrapnel all by his own hand.

But it didn't kill him. It merely knocked him out of the air to die from the fall, a pathetic end for a warrior, traitor though he may be.

But it was death regardless. He'd done it; he'd killed him. Like so many times before. Hundreds of times, many of them in far more brutal and intimate ways.

But he'd never done it outside of the Gravel War. He'd never done it out of the mysterious and eldritch embrace of the Respawn machine, that strange and horrible Australian technology that granted conditional, agonizing, contractually-mandated immortality to those tethered to its influence. He'd never killed Jane for real.

Until now.

As he watched him soar off into the night, into the blinding white of the blizzard, away from the flood lights of the rooftop, his gut sank along with Jane's body. Because he was going to die. And he was going to stay dead. And he was never going to see him again.

He'd done it. Truly, fully, finally. He'd won the War between them.

He'd killed the only man who'd ever loved him.

The only man he'd ever loved.

Demoman drained the rest of the bottle of scrumpy, chugging for all he was worth, hoping the burn of the dry cider and the wobbling, spinning blur of the poison in his belly would drown out the poison in his heart. He whipped the bottle at the wall, shattering the thing in a shower of sticky shards, making all eyes in the room alight upon him as a single fat tear rolled down his cheek.

One by one, they all looked away. They knew. They understood. But what could they do?

They'd done their job.

It still didn't make it any easier as Demoman broke down into sobs, burying his face in his hands as he slumped to his side, curling up into a ball on the platform.

The flutter and flap of wings filled Demoman's ears for a moment, and he opened his eye to the sight of a large raven standing over him. It croaked and turned its head to the side, leveling one beady black eye on him.

He stared at the great bird a long moment, almost too in shock to remember his sorrow, until he heard heavy footsteps approaching.

"Your enemy Soldier is still alive."

Demoman propped himself up onto his elbow, turning to see Vulcan Raven approaching, a massive ammunition drum strapped across his back, a vulcan cannon held in his hands. Heavy sat on the edge of the platform, staring with disdain at the man as his mere presence distracted Medic from tending to his wounds. "Get it up ye, naebody could survive that fall," he spat. "Dinnae come tae me offerin' lies tae get me movin'."

"Believe it or don't, that's your decision to make, Scotsman," Raven replied plainly, unperturbed. "But he's alive, and working with Solid Snake."

"Working with him?" Medic asked, leaning over Heavy.

"He's actively helping Solid Snake's mission, rather than his own team."

"He's gone rogue?"

"It seems as such, unless the BLU team has more objectives than we've previously assumed."

Demoman sat up, wiping the tears from his face. "Or he's just followin' his natural, traitorous ways," he spat, vacillating from agonizing sorrow to bitter resentment like a switch had been flipped.

"Weren't you just mourning him?" Raven asked. The bird beside Demoman took flight and came to perch atop the drum on the massive Inuk's back.

"Is it yer business?" the bomber shot back, wobbling as the scrumpy began to hit and his vision swam not with tears but intoxication.

"No. No it's not. But know that your grudge will only lead to more blood, and an unhappy end."

Demoman sneered at the sanctimonious shaman. "Lad, I am an unhappy bloody end."

Raven shook his head. "Snake will be here soon. Remember, you are all not to interfere with him. Find some place to make yourselves scarce."

"We will, danke," Medic confirmed as Heavy rolled his shoulder to shake him away, snorting in annoyance.

Demoman stared icily at Raven as he left, his whole body tense and trembling, conflicting emotions not so much swimming through him as jousting, colliding and parting only to come at one another again, sparks sending up with each clash of steel inside him. He hated himself for how he felt at the thought of losing Jane. He hated himself for hating Jane. He hated himself for betraying Jane. He hated Jane for betraying him. He hated Jane for almost dying. He hated Jane for surviving. He hated himself for almost killing him.

He hated this whole bloody mission, and wished he could get back to the impermanence of the Gravel War, that liminal space between life and death where he didn't have to face the material realities of his own deeds and feelings, and could just blunder through it all in a drunken haze.

He scrubbed his hands over his face and groaned. The flutter and flap of wings filled Demoman's ear for a moment, and he turned his head to see Archimedes perched on his shoulder, blood staining his chest and face, his little beak bright crimson, with a spot atop his head like a little cap.

With a heavy sigh, he reached up and gave the bird a gentle scritch on his cheek, and let himself just be relieved that right now, for now, Jane was alive.

[typingatlightspeed]

Metal Gear/TF2 Crossover - cp_shadow_moses_event Chapter 13

In order to proceed, Snake needs to face Sniper Wolf. Which is fine by him, he wants revenge for Meryl. Which is fine by Wolf, she wants to finish her hunt. It is not fine by Otacon, who desperately doesn't want either of them to die. Sadly, we all know how this one shakes out, but Soldier forgoes his contract to make his own commitment. You have to be able to protect them.

Ao3 Link!

Spoilers/Warning for canonical character death for Sniper Wolf. I didn't bother warning for Mantis or Octopus, but we see this one on-screen, so I wanted to make sure people are aware of what they're walking into.

---------

The door from the northern communications tower slid open, and Snake stepped into the canyon beyond, into the blizzard that continued to rage across the archipelago. A few trees flailed in the winds, and beside the door, he spied some kind of metal wreckage. Two devices of some sort—each about the size of a manhole cover, one red, one blue—had been destroyed in catastrophic fashion relatively recently, judging by the embers that still glowed.

A laser dot barely flashed into Snake's vision before he dropped, tearing his legs out from under himself to plant into the snow as a shot cracked through the shallow canyon, a bullet embedding in the wall behind. Snake scanned the field, seeing no one, and rolled to the side, tucking himself behind a tree as his codec beeped.

It was Otacon. "Snake! Are you okay?!"

"Otacon! Were there any other stealth prototypes?"

"No, there were only five."

"So, this isn't stealth camouflage, then."

"What are you talking about?"

"Someone's aiming at me in the middle of this blizzard!"

"It's her!" Otacon gasped, voice practically filled with awe.

"...Wolf? Sniper Wolf?"

"Yes, it's her. It's definitely her!"

Snake sighed, gritting his teeth as he growled out, "Otacon, you sound like you're happy.

"No, I'm not."

"So then what is it?"

Silence for a moment. "Snake... please don't kill her."

"What?!" Snake snarled, tossing a look over his shoulder in worry. "Are you insane?!"

"Please! She's a good person, y-you'd know that if you'd talked to her."

So, that's why Otacon had been asking about love blooming on a battlefield. Snake felt a little foolish for wondering if it were anything else.

He'd had a feeling it would get to this point eventually. Otacon had been talking her up in the engineering lab, too. And when he gave him Wolf's handkerchief. Just because she'd been nice to the lonely guy, he'd convinced himself he loved her. How starved for affection was this guy? How naive to the reality of this situation?

"Listen to me, kid." It was unnecessarily mean, probably, demeaning Otacon like that. But adrenaline was coursing hot and Snake's patience was running thin, the slight bruise to his ego notwithstanding and going unexamined right now, thank you. "She's a merciless killer." He thought of Meryl laying in the snow, bleeding, apologizing, and grit his teeth.

A soft fizz of static, and the husky voice of Wolf cut into the channel. "I can see you perfectly from here," she said, laughing. "I told you, I'd never quit the hunt. Now you're mine."

"Wolf," Otacon pleaded, "no, you can't!"

"Don't get between a wolf and its prey!"

Snake huffed, "You're pretty good if you can hit me in this storm."

"You see?" she hummed. "Women naturally make better soldiers."

"Wolf! Don't do this!"

Wolf ignored Otacon's pleas. "Snake, I'm near. Can't you sense me near you?"

"It's a mistake for a sniper to reveal her location."

"Is that right? Well I'm going to send you a love letter, my dear. Do you know what that is? It's a bullet straight from my gun to your heart."

"Please! Wolf, Snake, no!"

"Quiet!" Wolf barked. "Don't get in our way."

"Now I'm gonna pay you back for Meryl."

"You men are so weak. You can never finish what you start."

Wolf cut the channel. Snake closed his end. Otacon shrieked in horror and frustration, pushing past Soldier to dash back to the towers, to the canyon. He needed to do something.

*

The door out of the northern communication tower slid open, Otacon spilling out into the canyon with stumbling steps, head swiveling this way and that to try and see Snake, to try and see Wolf, to try and see if anyone was still left alive. He jumped when Soldier clamped a hand on his shoulder and pointed in a direction, having clocked shadows behind a few trees.

They rushed over wordlessly to find Snake kneeling over Wolf, who was laying, bleeding, in the snow.

"Please," she croaked out, her voice ragged and weak, "set me free."

Snake stood, drawing his pistol as Otacon arrived, tears that had been threatening him during the whole mad dash across the base now finding purchase and gathering, beginning to roll down his cheeks.

"Why?! Why?!" he sobbed, dropping the camouflage as he fell to his knees. She was there, softly gurgling on the blood that filled her lung, red staining the white snow, her golden hair like a halo around her head. She was dying, and she was asking to die. "I loved you..."

Wolf turned her head, an arm weakly reaching, and for a moment, Otacon's heart both leaped and crushed itself in his chest, thinking it may be for him.

"What is it?" Snake asked.

"My gun," Wolf murmured, fingers shaking. Between her and Otacon lay her PSG-1, dark as night against the blinding snow. "Give it to me."

As if compelled, Otacon scrambled over to the rifle, scooping it gently into his arms not like a weapon, but like a child. Beloved and cherished.

"She's part of me."

Biting back his voice, Otacon delivered it to her, laying it across her chest so that she could wrap her arms around it, clutching it close like a little girl might hold her teddy bear. He stood, looking down at her as she heaved out every breath, the sound crackling and rasping as she half-drowned on her own blood. He felt so numb, unable to process what was happening, unable to do anything about it.

The ghost of a smile crossed Wolf's lips. "Everyone's here now," she said, the distant baying of the base's wolfdogs like a choir to sing her to her rest. "Okay, hero. Set me free."

Snake took aim.

Otacon turned away, covering his ears. He couldn't do this. He couldn't see this. He couldn't hear this. He couldn't handle this. "Goodbye..."

The gunshot felt deafening.

Solder watched silently, keeping his distance. He didn't know the woman, but he could tell how important she was to Otacon. And then he had to watch this man he was clearly falling in love with kill the woman he'd already fallen in love with. It was cruel, and tragic. And yet more reason to never fall in love across enemy lines. And yet more proof that in spite of all common sense, it keeps happening anyway. He scrubbed a hand across the top of his head, wishing again he had his helmet. He felt naked, having to watch this.

Otacon wept, fat tears rolling down his face, each blink peppering his glasses with little splashes. His whole face felt hot, and his body felt cold, his guts clenched and sunken and his chest empty and hollow. In time, he turned to see Wolf lying there motionless. Snake had shot her through the head, a clean hole at the centre of her brow. A quick, merciful death.

"Snake," he said, voice shaking, "you said that love could bloom on a battlefield. But I couldn't save her."

Snake holstered his gun and knelt, digging in one of his pouches.

"What are you doing?"

Withdrawing the handkerchief that Otacon had given him, Snake laid it over Wolf's face, covering the wound that killed her. "Returning it to its owner. I don't need a handkerchief."

"Why?"

Full of resolve, Snake took a heavy breath. "I don't have any more tears to shed."

No, instead Otacon had taken the mantle, gasping out a sob and trying to control it.

"I'm going to the underground base," Snake said, shifting back to the mission, tucking away the feelings he didn't have time left to feel. "We're out of time."

"I know," Otacon whimpered. He understood, but it didn't make Snake's sudden icy practicality any less painful.

"You'll have to protect yourself now. Don't trust anyone."

"Yeah..."

"If I can't stop Metal Gear, this whole place will probably be bombed to hell."

Soldier clapped a hand on Otacon's shoulder, making him jolt. He leveled a stern look at Snake. "He can trust me. You can trust me. I'll look out for him."

"What about your contract?" Snake asked.

"What'll my mission matter if they bomb the crap outta this place? Can't search for a cache if we're all dead, and can't bring home Australium if it's been blown to kingdom come. Besides, the rest of the team can handle that," he explained, pointing to the metal wreckage by the door to the tower. "Those were teleporters. Both teams've kept the fight moving north, so at this point I'd be playing a hell of a game of catch-up."

"And you're not going to?" Otacon asked as Soldier's hand slid away. He wiped at his eye with his sleeve, squinting against the cold fabric.

"No. So long as the team gets the job done, it doesn't matter. I know what I'm fighting for." He looked between Snake and Otacon with purpose. "Love can bloom on a battlefield, right? You have to be able to protect that. That's what I'm fighting for."

Snake squinted in confusion, but he appreciated the man's spirit. "Alright, Soldier. I'm trusting you to keep him safe."

"I'll hang onto my codec," Otacon said. "I wanna keep helping."

"You can leave anytime," Snake reminded him. "Get a headstart... a headstart on your new life." With that, he turned and walked away, heading for the underground base and whatever may come.

Otacon watched him, trembling, wanting to say something, anything. He couldn't handle how the warmth had left his voice as he told him to leave. It was for his own good, but it sure didn't feel that way. He knew how hurt Snake was, how hurt he was, how fucked up and awful this whole situation was. The only person who seemed to really know what he was doing in this mess was Soldier. He knew what he was fighting for. "Snake! What was she fighting for? What am I fighting for? What are you fighting for?!"

Snake stopped. In spite of himself, a smile crossed his lips. That warmth returned as he half turned, calling back, "If we make it through this, I'll tell you!" With that, he turned and continued into the dark.

Shakily, Otacon replied, "Okay. I'll be searching too." He wiped his eyes as the wolfdogs in the distance echoed him. He looked to Soldier. "Follow me," he said, turning and heading back the way they'd come, the mercenary on his heels.

[typingatlightspeed]

Metal Gear/TF2 Crossover - cp_shadow_moses_event Chapter 12

Finally inside the communications tower with BLU Soldier in tow, Snake meets up with Otacon, who has a Very Important question for him. Soldier gets the wrong idea, or does he? Either way, Otacon needs to get this elevator working.

Ao3 Link!

This is perhaps The Scene that made me want to write this fic. "Do you think love can bloom? Even on a battlefield?"

---------

"Thanks for the hand," Soldier grunted as Snake craned in the door to the interior of the communications tower and cased the area. "Woulda been a long way down." "No problem," Snake replied simply. He surveyed the area. This communications tower had its centre walled off, assumedly an elevator shaft running its length, with metal stairs rimming the walls like the other tower. "You guys helped me on the way up, call it fair."

Soldier chuckled at that. "You're alright, son."

"I'm surprised you were rocket jumping this high up. Or rocket jumping at all, really. I've never seen it in action before," Snake admitted, turning in and leading the way down the stairs.

"Modern soldiers have forgotten their roots!" Soldier boasted, following close. "Back in the old days, rocket jumping was the only way to get around! It predates the invention of stairs!"

"Stairs?"

"Yes." "Like. Stairs, the building feature? The things we're walking on now."

"Yes. You used to have to rocket jump between floors, before Abraham Lincoln invented them," Soldier confirmed with a sage nod.

"...I don't think that's true," Snake hummed, coming to a halt as the stairs ended abruptly in a mess of twisted metal. "Damn. It's been destroyed. We'll have to go up, see if we can get into the elevator."

"Roger."

They turned and went the other way, passing the door they'd come in when Snake froze. "Huh?"

Soldier froze in turn. When Snake pointed forward and motioned for quiet, he nodded, and followed at a distance as the other man crept around the next corner, pistol drawn.

"Don't shoot! It's me! Don't shoot!" The soft, nervous voice of Otacon echoed through the concrete space, the man revealing himself as he deactivated his optical camouflage device. "It's me, Snake!"

Snake lowered his gun, Soldier following in turn after a moment. "Otacon? How'd you get here?"

"I wasn't as dramatic as your entrance, believe me. I'm afraid of heights."

Snake reeled back a bit in surprise. "You were watching?"

"Yeah, I was watching," Otacon confirmed, pushing his glasses up his nose. "I was riding in the back of their truck, thanks to the stealth camouflage. I saw you catch him," he added, gesturing to Soldier.

Soldier stiffened at being addressed. "Call me Soldier, son."

Otacon tilted his head to the side. "Oh yeah, you guys have code names too. Call me Otacon, Soldier."

"Roger that," Soldier replied with a nod.

Snake cut in, "How did you get up here?"

"The elevator, of course." Otacon gestured to the doorway beside him, an entrance to the elevator that ran the height of the building. The door was open, but its emergency gate closed, a grating that exposed the empty shaft within.

"The first floor of the circular staircase was destroyed," Soldier reported.

"That's why I took the elevator."

"The elevator was working?" Snake asked, eyeing the closed gate that covered the entrance to the open shaft.

"Yeah, that's right."

Snake peered over the railing of the catwalk, the space between it and the elevator shaft's outer wall, and into the floors below. The gates on the lower levels looked closed as well, and he could see the top of the elevator itself where it sat on the ground floor.

Otacon watched him, Snake's blue eyes darting, scanning the area, his whole body coiled like a spring, like a predator ready to strike. This was a man he'd watched scale down the side of a building under fire from a helicopter and casually save a man's life in the process. This was a man who had saved him from a cyborg ninja in a fistfight to what could have been to the death. He seemed almost inhuman, superhuman, more than just a guy with a bandana and a gun.

"You're incredible," Otacon began, almost breathlessly. "Like a movie hero or something."

A soft smirk settled on Soldier's face as he watched Otacon watching Snake, the wonder in his eyes. Sure, it was easy for a civilian to become a little starstruck when watching a professional soldier in action, but he knew the difference between that and—

"No," Snake said, "you're wrong." He didn't look up from where he leaned over the railing. "In the movies, the hero always saves the girl."

"You mean Meryl?"

Snake said nothing.

Otacon recoiled a little, guilt taking him for reminding Snake of what clearly felt like a failure to the man. "...sorry. Forget I said anything."

The silence stretched long, tension filling the air. Snake continued to stare into the dim shadows below, his eyes not even really searching or seeing, just cast semi-blind into the middle distance as his jaw clenched, guilt and uncertainty over the fate of the poor, mixed-up young woman he'd found himself so charmed by, and how he'd been powerless to keep her safe. That tightly wound body now looked less like a predator ready to strike and more like a prey animal ready to bolt. Or perhaps a storm ready to break, clouds pregnant with rain that wanted so badly to fall that the sky'd been cast near-black in preparation.

Otacon could barely stand it, torn between sympathy and a desperate desire to break the tension, his own anxiety riling up in response. "Snake, there's something I've really gotta ask you. It's why I followed you up this far." He thought he might know the answer. But maybe that was all hero movie stuff, too. Snake maintained he wasn't like that. So he had to ask. To know for real. He pushed his glasses back up his nose again. "Have you ever... loved someone?"

Soldier's jaw tightened. In his mind, he saw that grin, the hate in that lone eye as the RED Demoman, his Demoman, his Tavish, squeezed the trigger of his grenade launcher. He saw that pipe sailing at him, the explosion that should have taken his life, sending him flying to what could have been his doom were it not for Snake's quick reflexes.

He saw a grin curve that eye, blood speckling that handsome face as it poured from his own lips, the blade of a damned sword thrust through his torso, punching a hole in his lung as he fell atop the prone body of his betrayer, shovel in hand, attempting to land a killing blow of his own.

He saw that eye go dim and lifeless as he pressed the barrel of his shotgun to the other man's chest and pulled the trigger.

He saw the static on the television mounted on a man's chest, his boss' agent come to tell him that he'd been betrayed. That Tavish had turned on him for a sword and some guns and the sake of his job. And that he had the chance to even the score.

Have you ever... loved someone?

Soldier stayed silent, blood pounding in his ears, his jaw tight enough to make his teeth ache.

Snake pushed off of the railing, faced the other man fully, startled back into the moment by the question. "That's what you came to ask?" Snake had never considered himself particularly adept with people, but even he could tell it was a hell of a question to ask a guy in a situation like this. Was he asking about Meryl?

"No, I mean, I—I was wondering if even soldiers fall in love?"

Or was he fishing for something else? He had just been heaping praise on him, after all.

"What are you trying to say?"

"I wanna ask you..." Otacon took a deep breath. He thought of Wolf, of the handkerchief she gave him, of feeding the dogs together even after the insurrection, after so much blood had been shed. "Do you think love can bloom, even on a battlefield?"

Soldier clenched his fists, fighting his own memories. The way Tavish's eye sparkled with mischievous glee as they passed a whiskey bottle between them in the middle of a fist fight with a team of police officers.

The way he roared with laughter, clapping him on the back as they gambled and lost their money and didn't care as they joked and caroused the night away.

The way his voice, always so loud and brassy, would grow soft and sweet as they drew close, pressed their foreheads together, and swayed gently to music they would both imagine in the fits and gasps of time they stole alone together.

The way he would whisper words of love and praise as he rocked into him, smiling down at his sweet Janey, bodies intertwined in the heat of a desert night.

Snake sighed gently through his nose. "Yeah. I do," he said, regardless of how much of a sap it might make him sound. But he could only speak from his heart, and his experience. "I think at any time, any place, people can fall in love with each other. But..." He thought of Meryl, and found himself frustrated to realize the question was forcing him to confront and figure out his own feelings. "If you love someone, you have to be able to protect them."

Otacon smiled, nodding. He thought of Wolf protecting the dogs from being put down. He thought of Wolf escorting him to help feed them, keeping an eye out for him when the insurrection suddenly turned the relationship between soldiers and staff into something not quite combative, but certainly more aggressive, more fraught. "I think so too."

"Sure, love can bloom on a battlefield," Soldier spoke up, fairly grimacing as he grit out the words. "But it shouldn't."

Otacon stepped back, almost in shock. "Huh?"

"It can bloom, but the battlefield's where it withers and dies, too," Soldier spat, slinging his shotgun over his back. "War changes you, son. And it takes love and turns it into betrayal, into hate. And then you die a million times every day, and every time you see the look in his eye you know that all of your love meant nothing in the end. At least, not as much as what he got for turning on you. And you wonder if when he said, 'I love you,' if he even meant the words in the first place. 'Cause you did. God damn it, you did."

Snake and Otacon stared, aghast, as the man poured out his pain nearly unprompted. Neither was quite sure what to say.

Soldier felt their eyes burning into him and wished dearly he still had his helmet. He cast his gaze to the floor. "Shit." Turning on his heel, slunk around the corner and sank down the wall to sit with his head in his hands.

Otacon gulped, looking to Snake for guidance. "Should we...?"

"Give him a minute," Snake replied, shaking his head. "Besides, I have a favour to ask."

"Uh oh."

"Don't worry, it'll be easy."

"Um, I already told you before: I don't wanna hurt anyone."

"I don't want you to, either."

"Okay."

"The elevator is stopped down there," Snake said, gesturing to the shaft of the lift in question. "I want you to get it to move."

Otacon looked over the edge of the catwalk, squinting through the gloom to see where the elevator was stopped several floors below.

"You see?" Snake asked.

"That's weird."

"It was working before, but now it isn't."

"Maybe the panel's broken."

"Can you fix it?"

"It was working before," Otacon confirmed, pushing off of the railing. "If it's the mechanism, leave it to me."

Overhead, the sound of churning helicopter blades grew louder, no longer drowned out by explosions and gunfire. Perhaps the mercenaries had finished their fight? But where could they have gone without coming through the tower itself?

Either way, Snake new he had to deal with Liquid and that Hind, or else he'd be a sitting duck the next time he showed himself outside. From what he knew of the building blueprints from his briefing, there was a nice big snowfield wide open between the towers and the maintenance base, a nice prime killbox for a gunship to mow him down with ease.

He had to handle this somewhere neither of them had a particularly good advantage, and at the top of a tower in the middle of a blizzard was just as miserable a theater for a helicopter as it was for a man on foot.

He frowned as he looked up toward the sound. "I've got to go and swat a noisy fly."

"Okay. I'll say here and hold the fort," Otacon said, beginning to trot off to do his part. "Good luck!"

Snake couldn't help but notice how spooked Otacon looked, how shaky his voice had become. This was a lot for a civilian, and having to get mixed up in sneaking around and helping was no small ask for the anxious engineer. "You really look like hell. Are you okay?"

No. Not really. Not even slightly. Snake had already killed Psycho Mantis and was about to go fight a helicopter. He knew at some point he was going to have to come toe to toe with Wolf, against whom Snake had failed to protect someone he loved. How was Otacon supposed to protect Wolf from him? Could he? Should he?

"Don't worry," he said, scrubbing his hands over his face. He tapped the stealth camouflage device in his pocket, activating it, and in a flash, he was invisible. "If I do this, it doesn't matter. I just pretend like I'm not here."

"Strange logic." Snake smiled, regardless. "I'm counting on you."

He could see the vague shape of Otacon tossing him a salute before turning on his heel and dashing off, disappearing around the corner. He turned and headed for the stairs up, back to the roof.

Soldier looked up at the sound of shoes on the catwalk, seeing the shimmer of Otacon's shape as he approached. He scrubbed at his own face and sat up. "Going to fix the elevator, right?"

Otacon nearly stumbled, startled as Soldier addressed him. "Oh! Y-yeah, Snake asked me to."

"I heard," Soldier replied, climbing to his feet. "Let me come with you."

"With me?"

"Yes. I'll keep an eye out in case any trouble shows up," he confirmed, jerking a thumb at himself.

"Why are you helping us?"

"Snake saved my life," Soldier reminded him simply. "It's the least I can do, to make sure you stay safe."

Otacon couldn't help a smile at that. Snake had saved his life too, after all. All the same, he couldn't help but think about the breakdown the man had just had in front of them. "Are... are you okay, Soldier?"

"I..." Soldier sighed, scrubbing at the back of his head, "didn't mean to ruin the moment the two of you were having," Soldier rejoined. "Good for you. At least you and Snake are on the same side. It's not like me and Tavish." He chuckled ruefully, shaking his head. "Never fall in love across enemy lines, son."

"Moment? Snake and I?" It took a moment for what Soldier was saying to work its way through the gears of Otacon's brain. "I—WAIT. Me—SNAKE?! W-wait! I-it's not like that!" He had it so wrong! All wrong!

"Don't worry, son. You've got a better shot than you think," Soldier assured him with a clap on the shoulder, making his invisible outline wobble. "And I get why you're interested. He's a looker. Home grown American beef. Got sharp eyes and a fantastic ass."

Otacon sputtered, heat flashing in his face and making him glad he was for all intents and purposes invisible. "I wasn't—"

"You should get to that thing he sent you on. I'll follow at a distance, catch all the attention since you've got that fancy cloak."

With a soft sound like a deflating balloon, Otacon gave up on trying to explain that he was not hitting on Snake, choked up from embarrassment as he was. "S-sure," he managed to grit out, and dashed off, his head swimming from the man's assumption. If Soldier had thought that, what had Snake thought he'd been asking?! He did seem taken off-guard by the question. But then his answer...

He had to be talking about Meryl, right? He'd been talking about Wolf, after all. She'd been so kind to him.

But Snake had asked if he was okay, was worried about how haggard he was looking.

He was feeling guilty about Meryl, though.

But he's always looking out for him, too, asking if he's safe.

And Otacon, well, he was helping Snake as best he could, even though he didn't have to. He could have just hidden, made himself scarce, given Snake the info he needed then beat feet or even tried to escape somehow. But here he was, making sure he could finish his mission, keeping an eye out for him.

If you love someone, you have to be able to protect them.

[typingatlightspeed]

Metal Gear/TF2 Crossover - cp_shadow_moses_event Chapter 11

Snake has to scale the communications tower, and oh shit an Alert! And oh shit BLU and RED are fighting in the tower as he tries to climb! Luckily, the BLUs are amenable to giving a helping hand when need be. But when fighting spills onto the roof and Liquid chases Snake off of it, Soldier learns how dangerous rocket jumping in a blizzard can be!

Ao3 Link!

Some canon-typical violence here. Action! Adventure! A really stupid joke involving the spies that's another reason I wanted to write this bad boy! :D We're finally getting into The Good Shit, baby!

---------

The entrance to the communication tower was a short hallway, turning left into another hall before entering the building proper. A few storage cases and cardboard boxes sat at the corner, stashed for future transport.

Reaching the end of the hall, Snake passed through a door, and above him, he heard a siren blare. It was a security camera, trained dead on him. A soldier turned the corner down the hall behind and charged him, FAMAS rifle at the ready. Beside him stood another pile of boxes, and sitting atop one of the boxes, Snake spied a bundle of coiled rope, thick enough to support a hefty amount of weight. It was probably for pulleying things up catwalks, he assumed. Either way, he snatched it up and hooked it around the rifle across his back, then dashed onward down the hall and into the communications tower proper.

The main body of the communications tower was alarmingly hollow, with metal struts leading upward and catwalk stairs lining the walls, climbing up and up seemingly without end. Above, screaming and the sounds of battle could be heard, and looking up, Snake saw blue and red uniforms clashing in a flurry of bullets and explosions, the BLU team pushing RED higher and higher. They fought on the same stairs, and the only way out was through.

He gripped his pistol tightly and charged up the stairs, genome soldiers hot on his heels.

The climb felt like forever, flights after flights, Snake taking the occasional moment to pop a shot behind him and duck behind girders as he tried to lose the guards on his tail. Along the walls, he could see camera-mounted guns—or what was left of them, riddled with bullets or melted with flames. BLU had made the way a lot less precarious for him, whether they knew it or not.

KRAKOOM

A stray rocket veered low, crashing into the wall beside Snake and throwing him to the landing, the wind knocked out of him as he landed flat on his belly. He shook his head, his vision swimming from the blast for a moment as he heard boots on the metal behind him. He had to get up, or roll over, aim and shoot. He had to get them off of him before he was ventilated. He had to—

CRACK

A shower of red and pink erupted from the side of one soldier's head, sprayed out onto the wall in a visceral splatter as a bullet punched through one side and out the other, taking a massive chunk of skull with it on the exit. His body slumped to the ground, dead. The two running behind him skidded to a halt, one doubling back to run as another round zipped through him, punching from temple to temple. The final soldier dropped his weapon and his body to the stairs, covering his head in surrender.

Snake scrambled to sit upright, looking to where the shots had rang out, and saw the BLU Sniper tipping his hat in greeting before he chambered another round. Snake nodded in thanks, and jolted to his feet, sprinting for the cover of the BLU team ahead.

Heavy was at the front, Sascha's barrels spinning noisily as he plodded up the stairs at a glacial pace, ready to mow down anything in front of him. Medic stood behind, sheltering using his bulk and back-to-back with him to protect their flanks, as he kept the strange, glowing vapor from his gun trained on him. Pyro was watching the rear, flamethrower at the ready and puffing short gouts of fire at seemingly nothing at regular intervals. Snake assumed it was to deter or stymie the cloaking device of the enemy Spy.

Snake had yet to see either Spy in here, however. Not even BLU's.

Sniper stayed at the middle of the pack with Engineer, each taking pot shots above when they could manage line of sight.

The rest of the team, however, was pure chaos. Demoman, Soldier, and Scout vaulted between stairs, across the open shaft that made up the majority of the tower, perching on railings and jumping from girders in a flurry of aerial combat Snake had never seen before. Scout's leaps were superhuman, able to kick off of the meagerest purchase for maximum lift, as if he could jump again in midair. Demoman would plant a sticky mine and jump atop it, detonating it and sending himself flying without destroying his legs. Even more staggering, Soldier could do it with a rocket launcher.

Explosive jumping! It was real! Snake had heard rumours of some absolute madmen who practiced the technique, but he'd never seen it in action before. It required specialized equipment, specialized training, and a wild disregard for one's own safety. And to utilize it mid-combat as an offensive strategy no less!

The REDs and BLUs both employed the skill, which came as less of a surprise, but no less a fascinating dance to watch as men rocketed around the open space, up, down, across, and more, clashing with melee weapons and kicks as they crossed one another in a strange, bombastic joust. They rained bombs and rockets at their opponents, Pyros turning to blast them away with hissing bursts of compressed gas from their flamethrowers. The tower itself shook and rocked with each blast, and the catwalk stairs groaned with every direct hit, shredding and warping in places. It was like the place was going to come down around them, and not a single one of them cared.

When Snake finally reached the BLUs he was greeted merrily by Pyro, who clapped him on the shoulder. It wasn't nearly as friendly a touch as the gesture suggested, a firm swat to be clearly and overtly sure that he wasn't the RED Spy in disguise.

"Glad you could make it, Snake," Engineer chuckled, ejecting a spent cartridge from his shotgun and squeezing a shot at the catwalk above, grinning at a shriek of pain from the other team's Medic. "Worried we weren't gonna see you again. Sorry to start the party without you, son."

"Never been much of a party guy," Snake replied with a smirk. He turned to Sniper, catching his eye. "Thanks for the save."

"No worries, mate."

"Thought you guys weren't interested in fighting FOXHOUND?"

"We're not," Sniper confirmed. "But us goin' loud's makin' your job awful hard on you here, right? Only fair to even the odds a little."

Snake nodded. He'd take that logic, sure.

"Willing to give me some cover up to the roof?"

"So long as you're willin' to put some suppressive lead in the air on the way," Engineer replied with a grin.

"I think I can manage that."

*

"So, brother, it comes to this, does it?" Liquid drawled, his hair and coat billowing in the bitter winds as he stood, hand on his hip, on the roof of the southern communications tower.

"Liquid. It's over. This ends here," Snake hissed, bandana whipping in far less dramatic fashion. He settled into a fighting stance, ready to have this over with, man to man.

"So it's fisticuffs, is it? How appropriate. Poetic, even. Fine then," Liquid chuckled, bringing up his own fists. "Have at you!"

The twin snakes charged one another, a roar erupting between the two of them. Liquid struck first, a haymaker with the intent of shock and awe, leaving himself wide open for Snake to duck and sweep his leg. Liquid followed the momentum of his swing and leapt, tumbling forward to the rooftop and rolling, coming back to his feet to charge back in. This time it was Snake who lashed out with a jab, barely missing when Liquid juked to the side and turned into a spin kick, which sailed past Snake's head by the slightest margin as he thought to duck. They parted again, putting some distance between them, sizing one another up. Neither had laid a finger on the other.

"You're awfully good, brother. We might be evenly matched."

"Liquid..."

Behind Snake, the door from the roof into the communications tower slid open and Solid Snake rushed out, only to see himself standing there, opposite Liquid, mid-fistfight.

"What?!"

The other Snake sagged and deactivated his disguise, looking to Liquid, who deactivated his in turn. BLU Spy and RED Spy stood across from one another, thoroughly annoyed.

"Well, there goes my attempt at a distraction," the RED grumbled.

"Great minds think alike," the BLU admitted dismissively. "C'est la vie."

All three men flinched as a salvo of rockets rained down from above and slammed into the massive satellite dish that sat at the tower's apex, atop a platform that stretched between the southern and northern towers. The satellite buckled and toppled, wrenching the platform with it in a horrid cacophony of screaming steel, destroying the rooftop bridge.

"Damn!" Snake cursed, spotting a door into the other tower across the now untraversable gap.

The menacing flutter of chopper blades rose over the din of wind and violence, and the Hind D rose into view, Liquid Snake at its helm. "SNAKE!" he hissed over a bullhorn on the chopper. "I'm afraid I can't let you get past here!"

"Liquid?!"

"You're not going any farther. Die!" He strafed the rooftop, chasing Snake to the edge, where he stopped and peered over the railing at the wreckage he could have crossed. Looking down below, he spied another bridge, a catwalk leading between a pair of doors midway up the towers. He just had to get down there. "It's a long way down. I should be able to use that rope I got," he mused, and unslung the rope, setting to work looping it around the rooftop railing to trail both ends below.

"What are you going to do?" Liquid taunted. "Take on a Hind with your bare hands? Now you're mine!" He roared, raining rockets down on the roof and sending the spies scattering for cover.

Snake stepped between the lengths of rope and crossed them behind his waist, stepping outward through the loops it created and tugging the drag up in hand, cinching a makeshift harness around his hips. Holding the ropes, he hefted himself over the edge of the roof to rappel down the side of the building.

Liquid gave chase, following his descent, and it gave the rooftop the breathing room it needed as the RED team spilled out onto it, riddled with bullets and broken bones, bleeding as they fought a retreat to where the bridge should have been.

"Heavy! The bridge is out!" RED Spy cried, coming to his teammate's side.

"We must reach other side and set up teleporter to get down!" Heavy replied, casting about for a solution.

"It will be too far for most of us!"

"Then we will make bridge! Team, cover me!" he bellowed, turning and grabbing hold of one of the girders now sticking upright from the wreckage of the bridge platform, hefting all of his might into it.

"You heard him!" Spy barked, drawing his revolver and flanking to the side.

Their Demoman and Soldier crossed the gap with little effort, explosive jumps sailing them through the night air to land firmly on the other side. Scout followed swiftly, kicking off of the girder Heavy was pushing, which was beginning to groan and give in to the giant's demands.

BLU Medic barked out, "Don't let them provide covering fire! Get them! Raus! Raus!" and just as quickly, his own team's trio of jumpers gave chase.

BLU Scout stayed low, out of the arc, leaping long and catching a girder on the exterior of the building to kick himself up to the edge of the roof, scrambling up while Demoman and Soldier took to the air and stole all of the attention.

BLU Soldier screamed, launching himself high into the night so that he could come down with authority, his boots aimed squarely for the RED Demoman. The bomber looked up, and their eyes locked, their lips curling in mutual hatred. All it would take was a well-placed pipe and the man in the sky would be a fine red mist. Demoman raised his launcher to fire and squeezed the trigger.

So did the Soldier beside him, his own team's Soldier, their trajectories tragically perpendicular. Rocket and bomb collided in midair, the resulting explosion just far enough away to not atomize the incoming BLU, but its kinetic blast absolutely enough to knock him off course, sending the man sailing away and out of sight, into the dark of the storm below.

Demoman watched the helicopter blades rising up out of the shadows and felt a chill run up his spine fully independent of the freezing blizzard in which he stood.

*

Snake gripped the rope tightly, feeding it carefully as he leaned back to keep everything taut as he braced his feet against the side of the building. The winds whipped and buffeted him, nearly drowning out the chaos above. It was five storeys down to the bridge. He just had to take this calmly and carefully.

His boots found purchase on an exterior girder crossing the wall, and he took a moment to stand and catch his breath. There were girders crossing the height of the tower, bracing it in cris-crossing boxes that looked to be both helping sure up the tall building against the elements as well as provide more structure for the exterior ductwork of the building's heavy-duty ventilation and heating system.

Those hazards in mind, Snake began to lean back to resume his descent when laughter cut through the din. Liquid cackled over the Hind's bullhorn as he buzzed the side of the building, strafing it with gunfire just below Snake's feet.

Rappelling during a blizzard was already a challenge. Doing while being harassed by the machineguns of a Russian gunship were a whole different level. Snake sighed. Nothing else to do but try, he supposed, and kicked off.

Bullets peppered the exterior wall, clanging off of girders and punching into duct work, hot, humid air escaping like steam into the vicious cold. Snake grunted as he hefted himself away, only to have to drop several feet in a hurry as another hail of gunfire nearly clipped him.

It couldn't have possibly gotten more chaotic.

At least, not until a man came screaming out of the air, headed straight for the wall like a poorly-designed missile.

Snake nearly lost his grip in surprise as BLU Soldier slammed into the wall beside him, spread eagle like a cartoon character, his rocket launcher slipping from his hands and swept away into the darkness below. His helmet clattered off, falling to the bridge below only to bounce on the metal grating and roll off, plummeting down into the night. On instinct, Snake reached out and snatched hold of the man by his bandolier, something to gain purchase and keep him from falling three floors to the bridge below, or worse.

Soldier was rattled, unsure of where he was, and looked up to Snake in a panic. All he needed to see was the blue of the man's sneaking suit, of his own team's colour identity, and he grabbed hold of him, letting him have his hand back to resume the descent.

When their boots touched down on the bridge, Soldier let go of Snake, letting him take the lead as they dashed across the gap between the two buildings, Liquid's machinegun fire at their heels as they dove through the door into the northern communications tower, safe for now.

[typingatlightspeed]

Metal Gear/TF2 Crossover - cp_shadow_moses_event Chapter 10

Snake is dragged off to be tortured, but thankfully survives and escapes! Making his way back to the communcations tower, he's determined to finish his mission, regrets over Meryl be damned. Meanwhile, Liquid realizes there are holes in the stories one Dr. Naomi Hunter tells about her life, and finds his angle to find out what's going on.

Ao3 Link!

A little more MGS plot on this one, with a touch more Sniper being adorable. Also, a nice little fix for a small plot hole (or at least unaddressed thing) in the actual original game (how does Liquid find out about FoxDie?). And Liquid says "cunt"!

---------

When the elevator to the warhead storage opened again, the BLU team craned to look. Surely Snake wouldn't be back so soon, and it didn't look like the REDs were pushing back, so who could it be?

Sniper Wolf stepped out, her languid steps trailed by a pair of genome soldiers who were carrying an unconscious Snake between them.

Soft murmurs of alarm and disappointment swept through the team, but nobody made a move to stop them. After all, neither Snake nor FOXHOUND were part of their mission, and vice versa. Even so, the look on Wolf's face dared any of them to do something.

None of them dared.

All the same, Scout's gaze followed the voluptuous figure of the assassin as she passed, and he turned to see Sniper looking after her in turn. When they had finally gone, headed for the tank hangar and assumedly the holding cells below, Scout turned to his friend.

"The curves on that one, right?"

"Huh?" Sniper asked, as if snapping from a daze

"Come on, I saw you lookin' too."

"She had a PSG-1," Sniper replied sullenly, pouting once again.

Scout sighed and threw up his hands. "Man, Demo, will you do somethin' about your man? I think we broke 'is heart takin' that gun away!"

"Aw, lad," Demoman consoled, patting Sniper on the back, trying not to laugh at how pathetic he was being about it all. "Come on, we should push forward, aye?"

"Yes, let's move out, ladies!" Soldier barked, already halfway into the elevator.

*

He'd survived. In spite of it all, he'd survived. He hadn't given in, hadn't cracked, and had to take that bastard Ocelot on his word that Meryl was still alive. It ate at Snake's gut as he shimmied back into his sneaking suit, securing everything back into place and checking to see what was and was not missing.

The optical disk with all of Metal Gear's test data was gone, unsurprisingly. Everything else remained untouched, however. It was almost suspicious. They could have just taken all of his keycards, and if he'd broken out, that was where his infiltration would end, anyway. He'd have no way to escape properly, let alone proceed with the mission.

It seemed sloppy. Too sloppy for someone like Ocelot.

But then, he had accidentally killed Chief Anderson on that table, right? So maybe he wasn't as meticulous as he appeared.

Otacon's trick with the ketchup had been surprisingly clever, and he had to hand it to the guy: it was resourceful as hell in such a bleak situation. He'd been leery at first about how much help the good doctor could be, but after this, he was grateful to have the gangly engineer in his corner. With his freedom, his equipment, and the new keycard Otacon had smuggled him, Snake took a deep breath and prepared to charge back into the fray. He needed to get into that communications tower, and from there: onward.

*

It seemed to take forever, backtracking through the tank hangar, across the snowfield, through the warhead storage which now lacked any trace of RED nor BLU team, down through Baker's old office and the caverns behind. When Snake emerged into the canyon, the blood on the snow reminded him of Meryl, of the venom she spat at herself for becoming a burden to Snake, for slowing him down. She wasn't a burden. And though he'd told her, he needed to tell her again. In person. Once this was all over and she was finally safe.

"Snake, please! Save yourself! Go on living, and don't give up on people! Don't forget me!"

He wasn't about to give up on her. He wouldn't forget her.

Snake's codec rang as he approached the canyon, watching for any sign of eyes on the approach. He opened the channel. It was Campbell.

"Snake, about Meryl..."

"Colonel, I'm sorry."

"Listen to me."

"I wasn't able to protect her."

"Snake, she's a soldier. She knows that prisoners are a part of war. She joined up of her own free will. I'm sure she was prepared for this."

"No, you're wrong. Meryl thought she had to become a soldier... thought it was the only way. She said she thought it would bring her closer to her dead father."

"She... said that?"

"She wasn't ready for real combat. I shouldn't have pushed her so hard." A heavy breath left Snake's nose, rolling out as a cloud in the wintry air. "It's all my fault."

A soft static heralded Miller cutting into the call. "That's not like you, Snake."

"Master?" Campbell asked, startled. "What is it?"

"Sorry for eavesdropping, but I just couldn't listen anymore."

"Master..." Snake fairly whispered, almost fearing the brunt of another of Hell Miller's dressing-downs. He didn't know if he had the stomach for it now.

"Snake, you can have regrets if you want to. It's only natural. But you can't keep attacking yourself for things that happened in the past. That road leads to madness, believe me."

Snake believed him. Considering Miller's previous entanglements with Big Boss, Militaires Sans Frontières, the Diamond Dogs, and FOXHOUND itself, it wasn't a particular leap of logic to assume the master's notorious temper was its own kind of madness.

Mei Ling cut into the channel. "He's right, don't kick yourself. It doesn't suit a legend like you."

Snake was getting tired of being called a legend.

"I'm sure Meryl's just fine," she rejoined.

"Mei Ling..."

Campbell cut back in. "Snake. Forget about Meryl. Stop Liquid. That's what Meryl would want, too."

Snake nodded along. "You're right. Meryl would say the same thing."

"Snake," Naomi cut in, static on the line again.

"What?"

"Meryl... she's pretty special to you, huh?"

"Yes," Snake sighed, ducking into a crenelation to take a breath. "She's special. There aren't many women like her around."

"That's not what I meant."

"She's the colonel's niece. And a combat buddy."

"Is that all? C'mon."

Fuck's sake lady, they met—what?—a few hours ago? "This is like a police interrogation."

"No, I just—"

Campbell cut in, "I guess it's in the genes," he chuckled.

"Genes? What're you talking about, Colonel?"

"No, I just remembered about Naomi's grandfather. I think Naomi said he rose as high as assistant secretary in the FBI during Edgar Hoover's time."

Inquisitiveness in the blood. "Is that right?"

"Yes!" Naomi replied, put on the spot. "Yes, he was Japanese and he became a special undercover investigator to nab the mafia."

"When was that?" Miller asked, dubious.

"Oh, uh, sometime in the fifties, I guess," Naomi said, her voice clipped. She sounded almost nervous.

"Where?" Miller followed up.

"Uh, New York, I think."

"Naomi, I thought that you didn't have any family."

"Well, I—I researched it after I became an adult. My grandfather was already dead by the time I learned about him, I never even had the chance to meet him."

"Oh," Campbell sighed, his attempt at a mood-lightening anecdote dashed thoroughly.

"Snake... good luck," Naomi said, dropping the line.

"Watch your back, Snake," Campbell added before closing the channel.

Snake looked up at the southern communications tower, multiple stories tall and rising high into the blizzard-rimed night. He could hear gunfire and explosions inside. There was probably no other way to do this. He checked his magazines and prepared to go loud.

*

Liquid slammed his fist on the control room console. "That bitch; I knew there was something suspicious about her from the day she started working with FOXHOUND! It was just a matter of finding the right lie to catch her in! A Japanese man as assistant secretary under that racist cunt Hoover! Ridiculous! Dr. Clark might not have given a shit who she hired, but by God I do my fucking due diligence!"

"Shall I do some digging, Boss?" Ocelot asked, a cheshire smile working its way across his lips. Hunter's pet project being deployed was one thing, but Liquid realizing something was amiss, perhaps even discovering what it is? What an interesting thread to weave into this plot! It's not like it would change anything, and the boy's histrionics about it in the meanwhile would be deeply entertaining.

It's not like Ocelot had to worry about being programmed into it, after all.

"Yes. I want you to get as much information as you can about her, what she's been working on, and why she's really on Snake's radio team. Her being here and her dear brother running around the base chopping people up like this is a Benihana cannot be coincidence."

"On it, Boss," Ocelot hummed, spurs jangling as he moseyed away.

[typingatlightspeed]

Metal Gear/TF2 Crossover - cp_shadow_moses_event Chapter 9

It's time for Wolf to play her part now that Mantis is dead and Snake and Meryl have passed through the caves. RED Sniper watches her work and has a chat with her about their different methods. Meanwhile BLU team helps Snake cut down on the backtracking, at the expense of a nice little prize BLU Sniper thought he'd get to take home with him.

Ao3 Link!

And some very gentle DemoSniper because I can't NOT, yanno? The ships are in here, you just gotta squint a lil sometimes. :3

---------

"Wolf, do you read me?"

Wolf tugged the radio from her pocket and held the call button. "I read you, Liquid."

"Mantis is dead. Snake should be through the caves soon. You know what to do."

"Shit," Wolf hissed. "Yes, Boss. I'm on it. Over and out." She tucked the radio away and got in position, lowering herself to her belly on the second floor catwalk of the southern communications tower. She checked her scope, looking down the long, chilly expanse of the proverbial shooting gallery that was the canyon between the underground caves and the tower proper. There was next to no cover, no terrain features, just a few stray crenelations in the walls on either side of the long, open approach. They could be tucked into to hide, but the chance of reaching those spots was next to zero with a skilled marksman watching the canyon. They would be sitting ducks, just as planned.

Wolf watched quietly as Snake and the rebel soldier turned useful tool, Meryl, emerged from the caves. Meryl showed him the way around the mines planted at the entrance, and the whole while, Wolf watched, her laser sight turned off. She didn't need it, really. A good sniper rarely used something so visible.

But a good soldier understood that there were times that being seen could be useful. And how potent psychological warfare could be.

Wolf waited until Meryl had blundered into the killbox to flick her laser on and trace the woman's body. When she saw Snake make to dart out of cover, she took the shot.

Once to the leg. Once in the other leg. Once in the arm. Meryl lay bleeding in agony, painting the hard-packed snow red as she rasped out pleas to Snake. The man wisely stayed in cover. Wolf flicked her laser off and watched as they talked, the exchange ending with Snake running out the way he'd come. She smirked and tugged her radio free once again. "He's gone back. Come collect her."

"Roger," came Liquid's voice over the line. "Good work, Wolf."

"Over and out."

*

111.11. Snake dialed in the signal and hailed, hoping against hope that anyone would pick up.

"Scout here," came the nasal voice on the other end, and Snake felt a small pang of relief wash over him.

"Scout, it's Snake."

"Oh, hey Snake! Whatchu need, brother?"

"I need a sniper rifle. It's urgent. Someone I've been working with's been shot, and Sniper Wolf has her pinned down in a canyon. I can't get her to safety, and I can't get to Wolf without a long-range weapon. Have you seen anything around in either of the buildings you've taken?"

"Sniper rifle?" A voice came muffled from somewhere near Scout, and Snake could tell one of the other mercenaries was explaining something to him. "Yeah? No kiddin'? Okay, sure. Hey, Snake? We gotchu, man, no problem. Meet us in the warhead storage an' we'll hook you up. You might have to fight an Australian for it, though."

"What?"

"See you then!" Scout closed the channel. Snake shook his head and kept moving.

*

Wolf sat up and leaned back against the exterior wall of the communications tower, watching as Meryl lay twitching and bleeding on the ground, her whimpers of pain too far away to hear.

"Gotta say," came a voice beside her, from beside catwalk stairs. RED Sniper leaned against the railing, looking out over the canyon. "It's a good strategy. Usin' the sheila for bait." He chuckled. "Yet when 'e was runnin' back out the door you 'ad line of sight, clear as day. Didn't even try to take a shot at 'im. Your skills, you'd've painted that door with 'is brains 'fore the lock recognized 'is card key." He turned to look at her. "Almost like you ain't tryin' to kill 'im at all."

Wolf's eyes rolled to him slowly, just barely wider than usual. "Surprised you clocked it."

Sniper shrugged a single shoulder and unhooked a thermos from his belt. He unscrewed the cup and popped the lid, pouring himself some hot coffee. He held the cup out to her, offering her first dibs, but Wolf waved him off.

"I don't mix stimulants and depressants."

"So you are doped. What is it, then?"

"Diazapam."

"Benzos?" Sniper replied, a bit surprised something that potent was in the woman's system. "Why're you on downers, if you don't mind me gettin' nosy?"

"Steadies my aim," Wolf replied simply. "Makes my hands stop shaking. Those little involuntary twitches, you know."

Sniper hummed in appreciation of that, nodding along with the explanation. "Every sniper really does have their own mitigation rituals, don't they?"

"Is caffeine yours?" Wolf asked, gesturing to the coffee.

Sniper took a long sip. "Nah, yeh. Me 'ands're pretty steady. But it's me reflexes I need to keep sharp. I can deal with the boredom, the idleness, but not movin' for a span gets me slow, creaky. If I'm gonna time a shot right without a spotter—and I never work with a spotter—I gotta stay awake, alert, and tight as a bloody bowstring. Plays hell on me back," he chuckled.

"Drinking that much coffee, I'd be surprised if you haven't been caught on a mission before, stopping to get rid of that much liquid in your body," Wolf joked.

Another half-shrug. "Always keep a jar or two 'andy," Sniper explained. "Works in a pinch. And if you do somehow get made, havin' a glass jar fulla urine thrown at and shatterin' all over you tends to dissuade a hoon from givin' chase."

Wolf snorted at that, ridiculous as it was. In the distance, a pair of genome soldiers were hefting Meryl up and carrying her off. "I think Saladin would have loved that kind of practicality."

*

Snake barely registered the trek back to the warhead storage, running on purpose and urgency as his blood pounded in his ears. He tapped his foot impatiently as the elevator brought him up to ground level, and when the door opened, BLU team was there to greet him, posted up in various spots across the hangar and gearing up for their next push.

"Snake, there you are!" Scout called, hopping from atop a missile rack to the catwalk before him.

"You said you had a rifle?" Snake asked, skipping the pleasantries.

"Yeah, we snooped around the rest a' the tank buildin' while you were fightin' that tank in the snow. That was wicked, by the way, holy shit. Anyway, apparently the bottom floor had a bunch 'a storage rooms, a few with some pretty high level security."

"Scout."

"So, I mean, we had to crack that, right?"

"You mean I cracked it," Spy chimed in with annoyance.

"Yeah, Spy cracked it, whatever. Anyway, one of 'em had some freakin' laser wire trap set up an' stuff so you know whatever was back there was cherry, right?" "Scout."

"So we ended up usin' Spy's smokes to make it so we could see the lasers, an' I snuck around 'em what with bein' the most agile guy on the team an' all. Ain't nobody more flexible than me!"

"Private, quit hitting on the man and get to the point!" Soldier barked, making Scout startle into a rigid posture.

"Man, I ain't hittin' on 'im what the hell—"

"Then quit bragging about your flexibility!" Soldier replied, making a soft wave of snickers erupt among the rest of the team.

Scout pouted, slouching forward, put-out. "Man."

"Scout, do you have a rifle?" Snake asked again.

"Yeah, yeah, we got a PSG-1 outta storage. Snipes' got it," Scout huffed, backing away to go sulk as Snake turned his attention on Sniper, who was holding the gun and looking sullen, clearly unwilling to part with it.

"Been wantin' one of these beauts for a while," Sniper mused, looking down at the gun in his hands. With a sigh, he brought it to Snake and held it out for him. "If you end up not needin' 'er once you're done with your mission, I wouldn't mind takin' 'er off your 'ands," he added, a bit half-heartedly.

Snake cracked a smile at that. "Sure thing, Sniper," he assured him, slinging the rifle across his back then clapping him on the shoulder. "Thanks."

"Nah, yeh. Go save your mate, yeh?" Sniper replied, waving him off, a frown settling on his face as Snake hustled to the elevator and the doors closed.

Demoman threw an arm around Sniper's shoulders, tugging him in close. "Ye did a good thing, Mickey."

[typingatlightspeed]

Metal Gear/TF2 Crossover - cp_shadow_moses_event Chapter 8

After saving Dr. Hal Emmerich from Gray Fox and establishing a code name, Snake asks him if he's heard anything about this Australium Cache. Also: Mantis and Pyro have a little talk.

Ao3 Link!

Had a lot of fun writing Mantis v. Pyro. The dichotomy is so striking to Mantis and Pyro's like idk who you even are dude lmao

---------

"All I want from you is information," Snake said plainly, realizing just how long he'd lingered in the engineering lab, listening to the lead Metal Gear designer pour his heart out after learning his passion project's true nature.

It was fine, of course. The poor guy had just had his world rocked. He was just a civilian, a nerdy guy who clearly didn't have a lot of people to talk to, let alone open up to. And then all of a sudden his whole world comes crashing down and the trauma of a family legacy that had been weighing on him had swelled and threatened to drown him like a riptide. He needed a minute. It made sense. Plus, the guy's infodumping had given him a much better picture of what he was working with when it came to REX.

It wasn't just that, though. Snake couldn't help but feel for the lonely guy. After all, he was young and naive, and had been strung along and betrayed, lied to and used for others' ends, put his finely-honed skills to use on something he thought was going to be for the good of the world, only to find out it had all been manipulation, a bait-and-switch. And now he was merely a loose end to be tied at some point. Snake could sympathize with that. He'd had two ops go down that way, and no matter how much you try to push it down, it affects you.

He had already begun to wonder if this op was going to be the hat trick.

While he didn't understand everything Emmerich was on about, especially the Japanese cartoons, he did understand what it was like for his passion to be turned against him, and it didn't seem fair that someone so earnest had to deal with that kind of bullshit too.

But they'd been talking—well, Emmerich—no, Otacon, had been talking—for a good ten minutes, and he needed to get moving.

"Sure, I know everything about this whole base," Otacon replied, taking Snake's short tone in total stride. He was probably used to people talking to him in clipped tones and matter-of-fact phrasing. Pleasantries were probably in short supply in covert weapons development. "Ask me anything about REX or about this place."

"There is something," Snake began, thinking back to the battle two floors overhead. "Right now there are two groups of mercenaries that have also entered the base. One's been hired by FOXHOUND. The other from outside."

"Mercenaries? Are you serious? Are more people after REX?"

"No. I've made contact with both, and neither care at all about Metal Gear."

"You're serious? Then what could they want here? The dismantled warheads?"

"They claim there's a cache of Australium somewhere in the base."

"Australium? Here?!"

"You're saying you don't know about it?"

"No! You'd think something like that would be integrated into the REX project. Australian technology is decades ahead of the rest of the world's, largely because of Australium both as a building material for its electronics and as a sort of psychoactive substance. They say its radiation can turn an idiot into a genius with enough exposure, and can even increase muscle mass and hair growth."

"It can change your mind and body in positive ways from its radiation?"

"That's the story. It's how it got the nickname, 'the transformative metal.' But it's so rare and prized that formal studies are hard to conduct."

Snake reeled a bit. He'd heard Australium was prized and expensive, but the ability to alter one's body and mind with it? He wondered if it factored into Liquid's plans with the genome soldiers. "One group of mercenaries, Builder's League United, is here to try and take control of the base so they can get that Australium. The other, Reliable Excavation and Demolition, was hired by Liquid to keep people away from the cache."

Otacon hummed in understanding. "That doesn't surprise me one bit. While those two companies are ostensibly engaged in a war over the New Mexico gravel pits, wherever Australium tends to show up, you'll often see them around, too. But considering neither company deals in Australium, I have to assume they sell it to the highest bidder, or are specifically contracted ahead of time to get ahold of it."

"I've met both teams. They're perfectly identical, down to mannerisms. How is that even possible?"

"Nobody knows," Otacon shrugged, shaking his head. "There's a lot about that war that's startlingly secret, especially a lot of the tech development involved."

"Tech development?"

"Well, yeah. When you have a Conagher on your payroll, you're hardly going to hire him just to shoot people."

"A Conagher?"

"Dr. Dell Conagher," Otacon supplied. "The Engineer. Though he's kind of too famous for code names to really matter for him. I've met him a few times; he was loose colleagues with my father." He pursed his lips for a moment at bringing up the man, and continued. "He's a legend in cybernetics and biomodification sciences, in addition to all of his practical weapons development, like the latest model of his family's line of automated sentry guns."

"Which one?" Snake asked.

"Which one?"

"Which Engineer. There's two, remember?"

Otacon frowned, realizing he'd never interrogated that before. "You know, I'm not sure?"

Snake sighed. "So you have no idea where the Australium could be, though?"

"No idea. If there's a secret cache in the base somewhere, President Baker kept it off of any and all public records, including building blueprints."

"Damn." Snake sighed, again reminding himself of the time. "You should get going."

"Okay. I'll keep an eye out, though. See if I can find anything out about the cache."

"Thanks."

"Also, with this stealth camouflage," Otacon flashed a small device out of his coat pocket, an optical camouflage emitter, "I can sneak in out of the armory and mess hall. If you need ammo or rations, just tell me and I'll bring them to you." He activated the camouflage, nanomachines creating a small cloud around him and projecting mirror images of his opposing sides, making him appear as though he were transparent, the barest hint of his outline visible as he moved. "I'm on frequency 141.12. See ya later." With that, he turned and dashed out of the room.

*

"Through the caves!" Heavy bellowed, the RED team pouring out of the elevator and onto floor B1 of the nuclear storage building, where offices lined the hall. They surged around the corner, down a long hallway and through doors until they reached a large, well-appointed office with wood paneled walls, stone tile floor polished to a mirror shine, and a large wool rug dominating the space along with the wooden desk atop it. It was decorated with framed photographs, paintings, and busts, all very ostentatious for a facility like this. Seated atop the desk was Psycho Mantis, legs crossed knee-over-knee, watching with bemusement as the office—formerly Baker's—was flooded with red-clad mercenaries.

"You've been pushed out," he said. It wasn't a question.

Heavy ignored the sass and moved the bookcase against the back wall, revealing a secret passage to the underground caves beyond, and a swift egress out of the building. "Move!" he ordered.

"Wolf's dogs are out there," Mantis reminded him. "She'll get testy if any harm comes to them."

"No worries," Sniper chuckled. "Dogs love me."

"Yes, they can smell their own," Spy hummed, brushing past and into the passage. Sniper pouted and followed, grumbling.

It was all noise and commotion for too long of a moment as the mercenaries filed through the passage and out of the office, leaving him alone again with only thoughts he chose to hear.

Except...

Mantis turned to look at the exit. Pyro stood there, staring at him for a long moment. He could read him, but just barely. Curiousity. Flashes of flames, of colour, of phantom music, of screaming. It was never clear, never an internal narrative or a series of memories. It was disjointed, like trying to recall the fine details of a dream from three nights prior, slipping through your fingers like sand as you try to articulate any of it. "You."

Pyro perked up, pointing to himself exaggeratedly. "Me?" he asked, voice muffled by his mask even more heavily than Mantis'.

"You're different from them," Mantis replied, standing and approaching a few steps yet maintaining a sizable distance between them. "You're like us. No past, no future, just living in the moment."

Digging his toe at the floor, Pyro kicked gently, hands on his hips with a soft, "Aw shucks," and a chuckle.

Mantis continued, unperturbed by the sarcasm. "But more than that. There's beauty and joy in you. In your mind. You have love. You see your team as friends; your Engineer as the closest. You find them funny, entertaining, enjoyable, even. Us, we're pushed forward by hate, revenge, fate, whatever ties us to this life. It's what drives us to violence and bloodshed. I see your mind. I can see what you are, what you've done. The violence, the atrocities, the death and destruction. But through your eyes, it's play. And beauty." Mantis shook his head, his hands trembling with the strain of trying to make sense of Pyro's mind. All the same, he couldn't stop seeing flashes of his own memories; memories of his burning village, of his father's dying screams, of the Man on Fire, of the lab facility ablaze around them, of escaping with Liquid as the Diamond Dogs bombed an entire island with napalm. "I don't understand. Fire a tool of desolation and rage. Destruction. Revenge."

"You're wrong," Pyro huffed, stamping his foot. His gloved hands balled up into fists as he stood tall, his posture straight, his passions aflame. "Fire's beautiful. It destroys, but it gives birth to the new. A forest burns down, and those ashes feed the new growth, the new forest to replace it, which burns again. It's a cycle. Dancing, writhing, reaching toward the heavens and breathing deep as it consumes. It's a living thing. Hell, it is life!"

"What about the lives it takes? The lives we've both used it to take?"

Pyro shrugged at that. "Sometimes, people need killing. Doesn't mean you gotta be such a tryhard about it. Why not make it beautiful? Why not make it fun?"

Mantis smiled behind his mask. "We're two sides of the same murderous coin. One side hate, one side joy."

Pyro smiled behind his mask. "You're wrong. You clearly care way more about everything than I do." He shrugged again, posture slowly returning to its customary slouch. "Nothing really means anything. Once you realize that, you're free." He giggled and waved goodbye, then trundled after the rest of the group without sparing Mantis so much as another thought. "Hey guys! Wait up!"

Mantis stood there, staring after the masked mercenary, unsure. Unsure whether he was angrier at Pyro for being so fucking flippant, or at himself. Because Pyro was right.

[typingatlightspeed]

Metal Gear/TF2 Crossover - cp_shadow_moses_event Chapter 7

After Snake deals with Vulcan Raven's tank assault, he sneaks into the nuclear storage building and finds himself seeing double. He doesn't understand how it's possible, but the good news is that nobody else does either. Also: obligatory dick jokes.

Ao3 Link!

Feeling so clever about Spy's dialogue in this one. Ohohohoho.

---------

Smoke poured from the M1 Abrams sitting at the middle of the snowfield connecting the tank hangar and nuclear storage building. The doors to the storage facility opened, and Snake slipped through, his bout with Vulcan Raven ending in victory.

Raven tugged his radio from a pouch and opened the channel. "Well, Boss, I hope you are happy. He got the card."

"We'll play with him a little longer," Liquid replied from the other end.

"You would be wise not to underestimate him."

"What did you think of him?" As the doors to the nuclear storage facility closed, Raven opened the hatch at the top of the tank and emerged, the cold air brisk and refreshing on his skin. His eyes surveyed the field where Snake had dug up and disarmed the mines he'd set, where tank treads had left their mark, where the footprints of nine hustling mercenaries had marred the snow ahead of their battle. "He is just as you said. In battle, he as if possessed by a demon. Much like you. I would expect no less."

"You see? I told you so. But I will kill him."

"So, General Ivan. I hear he took your hand as well as your dignity?"

Ocelot's voice crackled across the line, offense clear in his tone. "Watch your tongue, Shaman!"

"In the language of the Sioux people, 'sioux' means 'snake'. It is an animal to be feared."

"Well Snake is mine now," Ocelot hissed. "When I meet him next, I'll take special care of him."

"Not yet," Liquid snapped. "Don't kill him yet."

"He and I will meet again in battle," Raven affirmed.

Ocelot sounded amused. "Same prediction as always?"

"Yes. The ra—" Raven's voice trailed out mid-sentence as a single, snowy-white dove landed on the barrel of the tank. A splash of crimson—of blood—had stained its breast, and around its beak. He stared at it for a long moment, perplexed. A dove. Here, in an Alaskan blizzard. It almost slipped his mind that it belonged to the mercenary doctor who had been ogling him. The little bird fluttered over to the unconscious, bleeding body of the soldier who had copiloted the tank with Raven. It pecked at him, head tilting this way and that, as it tried to figure out what it was dealing with there, then, it pecked to the small puddle of blood that had gathered by his wounded arm. It continued pecking, drinking at the blood, until it seemed satisfied and took to wing, soaring out into the white of the storm with surprising strength for such a small bird.

Raven stared. The dove, white as the driven snow, thirsted for blood, bathed itself in it. Ravens were carrion birds, but doves? They were granivores, frugivores, insectivores.

"Raven?" Liquid asked after a long silence.

Was there meaning in that, Raven wondered, or was it simply just evocative in a literary way?

"Raven?" Liquid asked again. "Are you there?"

Shaking his head, Raven pressed the call button. "Yes, boss. Sorry. I was... distracted."

"Flighty as always," Ocelot chided.

"Says the alley cat missing his paw," Raven huffed.

*

The entrance to the storage building sloped downward to a large, vertical bay door that was nearly closed, left open just the barest amount. As Snake approached, he lowered himself to his belly and shimmied beneath it, the clearance just barely enough. His ass caught a bit, and he had to squeeze to get all the way through. He frowned a little, wondering if maybe he should cut down on the squats in his workout routine if it was going to make it harder to get through tight spots.

His codec rang, and Campbell's voice was soon in his ear. "Be careful. You absolutely must not use weapons in that area."

Naomi chimed in, "I've already programmed the nanomachines so that he won't be able to, Colonel."

Snake bristled at the reminder that the nanomachines coursing through his body could be so easily used to control his behaviour. "What? What are you talking about?"

"Have you forgotten? That's where they keep the nuclear warheads. Can't you see them?"

"Yeah, there's lots of boxes piled up here but... are they all warheads?"

"Yes, they're all dismantled warheads," Campbell confirmed.

"They just leave them here? It's like President Baker said: totally careless."

A voice rang out in person, not over the codec. "You can say that again, brother."

Snake looked up from where he was crouched, eyes wide. How had he been so careless in turn? Blue eyes met blue, and the crack of gum sounded surreal in the wide, echoey space of the first floor warehouse. The RED Scout was seated casually atop one of the decommissioned missiles racked in the storage facility, his legs crossed under him, leaning on one elbow atop his knee. He was chewing gum, blowing small bubbles and cracking them loudly.

Well, he'd been made. Time to make this slip-up useful. Snake stood, and swiftly realized he was surrounded by mercenaries. The rest of the RED team leaned against walls and warheads, crates and catwalks, casually scattered about with little care for stealth or patrols. Their attention was entirely focused on the door Snake had just slipped under, and there was no chance that he could have made it through unnoticed without an optical camouflage device.

He held his hands up to show he was unarmed, gradually noting that each RED also had his weapons holstered or stashed, most holding a melee implement of some sort. "So, Reliable Excavation and Demolition."

"That's us alright," Scout confirmed with another crack of his gum. "An' you're Stiffy Constrictor, right?"

"Lad, I think it's Erect Cobra," Demoman corrected before taking a swig from a bottle.

"Thought it was Turgid Python," Sniper added with a smirk.

The other two 'ooh'-ed at their teammate's vocabulary.

"Oh for fuck's sake," Spy sighed, uncloaking next to Snake. "I'd apologize for their boorishness but that would imply that I take responsibility for these idiots." He lit a cigarette and took a drag.

Snake watched the man's practiced motions. Every smoker had a sort of rote way he would tap out a smoke and light it. Almost a ritual, a motion that became soothing over time much in the same way that first hit of nicotine was. The movements were the exact same as the BLU Spy's, including the slight flourish of his ring and pinky fingers as he flicked the lighter closed. It was uncanny. "So. Is this a nine on one?" Snake asked, his heart racing as he took note of every mercenary's position, weapon, and the placement of obstacles and other terrain features of the room.

"No," Heavy replied, leaning against a missile, arms crossed over his chest. "You are not our target. You have nothing to fear from us."

"You're not working for Liquid?"

"Oh, we very much are," Medic chirped giddily, laying a hand on Heavy's arm as if to say he would take it from here. "But we haven't been hired to deal with you. We've been instructed not to interfere with you, actually!"

"Doctor," Spy snipped, frowning at the chipper German. "That is quite enough. What do I keep saying about operational security?"

"I don't know; I tend to stop listening rather quickly," Medic admitted with a titter.

Spy sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. He turned back to Snake. "I have the feeling that our contractor has some sort of personal vendetta against you, monsieur. So he would prefer that his unit be the one to put an end to your mission. We're simply extra security for situations like our blue doppelgängers whom I'm sure you've met."

"How is it that you're such perfect duplicates of one another? Are you teams of twins? Clones? Gene therapy and conditioning?"

Spy chuckled and took a drag. "Who can say? We're near-perfect copies of one another, fated to fight an endless war to an endless stalemate. Eighteen perfect idiots, brothers of bodies and battle, but strangers to one another; we terrible children." A self-satisfied smile crossed the rogue's lips at his own florid words, and he took a sharp breath like it were punctuation. "I'd ask you the same question. You resemble our employer eerily, save for your differing hair colours."

"So I'm told," Snake grumbled, a little dismayed at his questions being brushed off so easily.

"Try not to let it bother you," Spy hummed. "We've certainly gotten past that point years ago. Need to know basis, I suppose."

"Must be nice."

"It isn't really anything," Spy shrugged.

"So you're just going to let me pass?"

"We are waiting for BLU," Heavy said simply. "Our orders are to fight them, try to stop them from pushing deeper. There is something here they cannot get to."

"The Australium, huh?"

"You know of this?"

"The BLUs mentioned it, yeah. I'm not concerned with it, though."

"Then we will not fight you," Heavy confirmed.

"But you're waiting here for them to push in? There are dismantled warheads everywhere in here, and you plan to fight them here?"

Heavy cracked his massive knuckles loudly. "Can kill tiny BLUs without guns."

"You sure that's wise?"

"We do not get paid for Wise!" Soldier shouted, entrenching shovel gripped tightly in his hand. "We get paid for Violent!"

Snake looked to Spy, who merely shrugged and stubbed his cigarette out on the wall, having long since made peace with it all.

"Well, good luck, I guess," Snake replied, a little bewildered, and headed up the stairs to the elevator at the back of the room.

As the elevator doors slid closed, Spy's hiss of, "They're coming!" reached Snake's ears, followed by whooping and war cries from the assembled men.

Were these the kinds of soldiers Big Boss was trying to build a nation for? A world for?

Snake shook his head.

[typingatlightspeed]

Metal Gear/TF2 Crossover - cp_shadow_moses_event Chapter 6

RED and BLU finally clash at the second control point in the Tank Hangar! Bullets fly, blood flows, and Snake emerges from the basement levels into the middle of it all! No plan survives contact with the enemy, but what about contact with Gravel War Mercenaries?

Ao3 Link!

Canon typical violence here, and a few MGS3 references that I do not apologize for. :3 Also a Meet the Spy reference for sillies.

---------

"DOKTOR!"

RED Heavy released Sascha's trigger as a spray of blood caught his peripheral vision, Medic falling away out of sight. He turned back to the fray to see the BLU Sniper waving hello from his spot tucked into the doorway of an upper-floor room, before ducking away from a rocket that slammed into the wall beside him. The giant's blood ran cold, and he turned to see Medic slumped against the side of one of the tanks, taking cover as a red stain bloomed from his shoulder and soaked into his coat.

"I am alright," Medic grunted, his arm hanging limp. "But the bullet is lodged in the joint, I can't move my arm."

Of course it had to be the arm that bore most of the weight of the medigun, too. It was a smart shot, disarming the healer. If he couldn't get a headshot, that was the next best thing. Heavy's nostrils flared as he spun up Sascha's barrels and stepped out of cover. With a roar, he squeezed her trigger, peppering the catwalk and upper level with bullets that ripped through steel and punched deep into concrete walls. BLU's Sniper let out a cry as his leg was shredded, the door beside him opening as he fell into the room to escape. Their Demoman dove for cover, the wet wails of anguish of a man whose torso had been ventilated sounding like music to Heavy's ears.

"Heavy!" Medic cried behind him, barely heard over the din of gunfire and the giant's own howl of victory, which completely drowned out the sound of a cloak falling as a knife began sinking into his flesh.

BLU Spy jolted as his wrist was snatched firmly by Medic's good hand, the medigun clattering to the floor and dragged by its hose behind the doctor. Furious blue eyes burned into Spy as he turned in surprise to the injured man holding him back, his knife barely into Heavy's back before its ingress was halted.

Merde.

Heavy whirled around, the knife in his flesh wrenching from Spy's grip and going flying, skittering across the ground and under the tank as he grabbed the rogue by his neck and slammed him against the side of the armoured vehicle. "You! Filthy spy!" he bellowed, slamming him again, making Spy's head bounce off of the tank and rattling him, his vision doubling even as the massive hand around his throat blocking his airway made it begin to blur and blacken.

Then, the tank was gone.

Or more accurately, it was in the air, tumbling over itself, and ready to come down atop the REDs and BLU that had been covering behind it. From the catwalk, the BLU Demoman grinned down through bloody teeth, wheezing as he laughed, his sticky launcher in hand, finger on the detonator.

Heavy dropped Spy and snatched Medic up in his free hand, dragging him out of the way as the tank came crashing down, one tread completely gone, its armoured underside shredded. The two mercenaries tumbled to the floor, coming up to see their BLU counterparts standing before them, minigun barrels spinning noisily.

"Ours now," BLU Heavy said, grinning. Behind him, his Medic's medigun crackled with an übercharge ready to deploy. "You want to come and take it?"

As if on cue, the doors to the elevator opened, and from the side of its door, Solid Snake craned into view to see what lay on the other side. His eyes widened, and he tucked himself back into the elevator.

RED Heavy's nostrils flared in rage. "If combat against BLU might interfere with him, you are to fall back, no argument," Ocelot had said.

Fine.

"Retreat!" Heavy called, staring daggers at his BLU counterpart, slowly rising to his feet. The BLU's gun followed him the whole way, grim determination on the man's face.

"This is OUR point!" RED Soldier demanded.

"WE HAVE OUR ORDERS!" Heavy bellowed, not once breaking eye contact with his BLU double. "WE ARE TO FALL BACK, NO ARGUMENT!"

In spite of assorted grumbles from the other REDs, they listened, turning and making a break for the cargo door. Heavy and Medic backed away slowly, the doctor wincing as he felt his healing factor push the bullet out of his bones and flesh and into his sleeve, caught jingling around where the fabric tucked into his glove. Soon enough, they reached the door, and with a curse, RED Heavy closed it behind them. Once on the other side, he slammed his fist against the wall and jammed a few buttons on the panel beside it, reactivating all of its security measures. If those BLUs wanted to push forward, they'd need to put in the effort.

The BLUs sagged, bloody and beaten, but victorious.

Medic felt something hit his shoulder and looked over to see red, then up to see Demoman bleeding out on the catwalk above him.

"Doc! Get Demo!" Sniper called, dragging himself out of hiding with a wince.

"Scheiße! Coming!" Medic called, dashing up the stairs onto the catwalk with his medigun at the ready.

As the rest of the team climbed out of cover, assessed wounds, and reloaded weapons, Heavy's attention stayed fixed on the elevator. "Come out!" he bellowed, setting Sascha down. "We will not harm you."

Leading first with his pistol, Snake slowly exited the elevator, his weapon trained on Heavy as he took a tentative first few steps. "And I can believe that?"

The soft whoosh of a cloak deactivating behind him and the sound of a revolver's hammer clicking back told Snake that perhaps he could not. Spy stood behind him, gun leveled at the back of his head. With his free hand, he was fixing his tie, trying to ignore the discomfort in his bruising neck. "As long as we can believe the same of you, mon ami," he hummed, his voice coming out perhaps a bit froggier than he'd hoped.

"Spy," Heavy implored, but Snake shook his head.

"You're pretty good," he offered, tilting a bit toward the man behind him, to illustrate to whom he was speaking.

"Pretty good," Spy chuckled. Such an outrageous understatement. It was an excellent insult.

"So," Snake began, holstering his pistol and holding up his hands, "you're from Builder's League United?"

"Team Fortress, yeah," Scout supplied, hopping down from the catwalk to squat atop the less damaged of the two tanks. "An' you're Solid Snake, ain't you?"

"Heard of me?"

"Man, who hasn't?! Don't be all fake demure like, 'oh lil' ol' me?' Brother you're a legend an' you know it. We all do." Scout sniffed. "Still, I expected you to be bigger. All jacked an' shit like Rambo or somethin'."

"Hard to be sneaky when you're so muscular you can barely move," Snake chuckled. "Stealth is nothing like in the movies."

"So all that James Bond shit Spy's always on about ain't real neither?" Scout teased, giving Spy a shit-eating grin.

"Wouldn't know. Not my type of espionage," Snake admitted with a half shrug.

"Alright, fellas, enough pleasantries. Spy, for heaven's sake can you please quit holdin' the man up? He put away his damn gun," Engineer huffed, exiting one of the side rooms of the hangar with a toolbox in hand.

"Got the dispenser packed up already?" Scout asked.

"Ready to go; doc should have everybody safe in hand, right doc?"

Medic threw him a thumbs-up as he kept his medigun trained on Demoman, bullets pushing out of his chest and tinking to the catwalk and the ground below.

Spy lowered his revolver and holstered it with a sigh, then set about looking for where his balisong had skidded off to.

"So what's the hubbub, bub?" Engineer asked, descending to the first floor and setting his boxed-up dispenser down. "What ain't classified, 'n all, anyway?"

Snake frowned as he lowered his hands, unsure how much to tell outside operatives. This was different from sharing intel with Meryl. She was part of the genome soldiers, she was part of Baker's plan to keep Metal Gear out of FOXHOUND's hands, she was in the thick of this, no matter how much anyone liked it. Plus, she was part of why Campbell was even part of this operation. But these mercenaries? It was a tough line to toe. "I'm here to deal with FOXHOUND's insurrection."

"We know," Spy said, finally finding his knife and flipping it closed with a flourish. "I've been listening to your codec since you arrived on the helipad," he supplied casually, striding back over. "I have to say, you've got quite the charm with women. And you say that's not your type of espionage," he chuckled.

Snake's eyebrow lifted. "I'm impressed. So you know everything, then. And can decrypt transmissions on top of it."

Spy merely smiled placidly, the expression never quite reaching his eyes.

"So what do you want?"

Engineer crossed his arms and leaned against the tank Scout was perched on. "Simple as simple, son. We know you're here to deal with that there Metal Gear. Which don't bother us none. Our business ain't quite with FOXHOUND anyway, as you can see by that little tussle with Reliable Excavation n' Demolition you just walked in on. We're here because our boss wants control o' this place. Apparently there's a cache o' Australium somewhere in this here facility, 'n there's an old woman who's willin' to pay the bossman a pretty penny for it. Which translates to quite a few pretty pennies comin' our direction for facilitatin' that."

"Australium? Here? I thought the entire US supply of Australium disappeared during that whole monkeynaut debacle." "Poor Poopy Joe." Engineer removed his hardhat and held it to his chest solemnly. "That lil' feller was a national hero."

"Thank you for the confirmation that this base is connected to the US government, however," Spy hummed, lighting a cigarette and taking a drag. Snake eyed him for a long moment in annoyance. With a smug smirk, Spy offered him a cigarette.

Snake sighed and nodded, accepting the cigarette and letting Spy light it for him, snapping his lighter shut with a sharp click. "You knew that already," he accused, and took a drag.

"We did," Engineer admitted, popping his hardhat back atop his head. "And we also know the difference between what's on the books 'n what's off 'em. Caches o' the world's rarest, most valuable metal bein' one o' the things that falls in the 'off' category."

Spy took a long puff off of his own cig. "We're here for the Australium, and nothing else. And judging by the fact that RED retreated when you showed up, one has to assume they're under orders not to interfere with FOXHOUND's operation, either."

"Why wouldn't they just use RED to deal with me, too? It would be simple to put me on their hit list, same as you all."

"In a word? Hubris. You're FOXHOUND's most famous living alumnus. Liquid Snake's demanding Big Boss' remains, and has you in his sights. FOXHOUND must be champing at the bit to show what they can do against the legendary Solid Snake. Their commander in particular, I'm sure. One rarely finds himself with a doppelgänger, and even more rarely does he not measure himself against one presented."

"You're saying this is a game to them?" Snake asked.

"Our jobs see us fighting our exact duplicates most days of our lives in a never-ending war," Spy elucidated, finishing his cigarette and stubbing it out on the wall. "Proving you're the better man against someone who looks like you, talks like you, moves like you—it never loses its novelty. What a thrill."

"This is ridiculous. They're threatening nuclear war for the sake of ego?!"

"Ain't that what most folks who can threaten that sort o' thing end up really doin' it for in the end?" Engineer asked, a wheezy chuckle punctuating his thought. "Look, son. We ain't gonna get in your way. That's the long n' short of it. And we're hopin' you'll offer us that same courtesy. Maybe even share intel, if you pick up anythin' that might prove o' use to us. We can offer the same. We're on different jobs, but the route's parallel."

"Fine, I can work with that," Snake agreed. He took a final drag and flicked the cherry off of his cigarette, tucking the butt into a pouch.

"We need to regroup, heal up, restock. You go on ahead. If those REDs give you trouble, give Scout over there a holler on your codec," Engineer said, gesturing to Scout, who had begun walking up and down the gun barrel of the tank, balancing with surprising ease.

The young man turned and waved to Snake, tapping his headset. "Frequency's 111.11. You need battlefield sitrep, routes, ambush points, RED positions, you give ol' Scout a holler and I'll hook you up, brother, no problem!" With next to no difficulty he slid from standing to sitting, his legs dangling off of the tank's barrel and kicking idly. "Ain't nothin' gets past me."

"111.11," Snake repeated, squinting in disbelief. That was pretty far down the band; most codec frequencies were in the 140s. "Seriously?"

"It's the only one Soldier'll remember," Scout clarified with a chuckle, immediately shrieking and ducking as a dented helmet careened past where his head had been, clanging off of the catwalk railing and bouncing to the floor with a few dull thoks.

"That is not true!" Soldier barked, shaking his fist. "I just turn off my radio because you do not SHUT UP otherwise!"

"He still disnae shut up, ye just cannae hear it," Demoman corrected, hefting himself to his feet and clapping Medic on the shoulder in thanks as his wounds finished healing.

"Same results!"

"Aye, fair enough."

"Alright, I'll go ahead, then," Snake confirmed.

"Oi, wait!" Sniper called, waving to Snake from the catwalk. "Take this, mate! Found it in this storage room." He tossed a metal detector of all things down to Snake, who caught it with some difficulty, the device being awkward at best. "Might 'elp out."

"Thanks," Snake replied with a nod.

"He didn't keep it for himself," Spy mused. "Sniper, has it been that long since you've left Australia that you're no longer stealing everything not nailed down?"

Sniper replied by wordlessly holding up a wallet.

Spy patted down his pockets, both trouser and jacket, and let out a growl. "Putain!"

Snake thought it best he leave, and made for the cargo door and the snowfield beyond, Meryl's incoming codec call ringing in his ear.

[typingatlightspeed]

Metal Gear/TF2 Crossover Fanfic - cp_shadow_moses_event Chapter 5

RED team and BLU team finally clash! Arms Tech president Kenneth Baker dies mysteriously! Ocelot loses an arm! Miss Pauling runs into that cyborg ninja again! Wait, why shouldn't she get too close to Snake? Administrator? A—Administrator what does that mean???

Ao3 Link!

I've finished my outline so hopefully chapters'll be comin' out faster and easier, now that I have my roadmap of what the fuck I'm doing with this, lmao. Soon we'll even get out of the first goddamn building! :D Won't that be novel?

---------

The cargo door to the tank hangar slid open, internal security measures disabled to allow the ingress of fourteen boots, two sneakers, and a pair of wingtips. The RED team charged into the hangar, whooping and hollering, kicking up a mess of noise as their spy cloaked and peeled away from the pack.

The soft beep of a detonator activating was all the warning Scout had to skid to a halt and fling himself away, bringing his teammates to a stop as a line of sticky bombs rimming the entryway exploded, sending shrapnel and chips of concrete flying.

"Boom, you owe me five bucks, Cyclops!" the BLU Scout hollered, slugging his teammate in the arm as the Scot cursed and threw his bottle of scrumpy down from the catwalk to shatter on the ground below.

"Ahem."

"Wh—" Scout turned, only to find the barrel of a revolver pointed at his face, the RED Spy holding the gun aloft. He shrieked and dropped as Spy fired, the bullet missing him and managing to lodge itself into Demoman's shoulder, wrenching a scream from him.

"Go! Go! Go!" RED Soldier hollered, and the team charged into the room, bombs and bullets flying amid the roar of men now locked in combat.

*

The sound of screaming and an explosion made Miss Pauling's eyes shoot wide open. She pressed herself to the wall of the second floor basement, storage rooms forming a near-maze filled with trap doors around her.

Charging out of a hole that looked like it had been blasted into the wall ran an old man with a moustache, dressed like a cowboy. She knew from her mission prep that he was Revolver Ocelot. What she hadn't been prepared for was the fact that the man was now missing his right hand, severed just above the wrist. His stump bled profusely, and his face was white as a sheet as he charged down the hallway and toward the elevator, assumedly to seek medical help.

It was a clean slice, not ragged or choppy, so it wasn't from an explosion or crushing, but a blade of some sort. Even the Eyelander didn't cut that cleanly, so she knew the mercs couldn't have gotten down to this level yet. She pulled herself from the wall and threw herself in the direction of the blasted-out hallway, only to collide head on with an invisible man and crumple to the floor, her cloak shorting out.

It was him again, the cyborg ninja. Sparks arced across his suit, and he was shuddering and quaking, hissing and creaking out cries of pain as his stealth camouflage failed.

"You!" Miss Pauling gasped, pitching up onto her knees to check on him. "Are you—"

"Don't touch me!" Fox shrieked, backpedaling away from the tiny woman. "No! Not again! Never again, Clark! No more!"

"What?"

He reactivated his camouflage and scrambled to his feet, sprinting out of sight without another word, leaving Miss Pauling kneeling there in confusion.

"Colonel! Are you listening?!"

Pauling didn't have time to dwell on the cyborg, as a man's pained, panicked screaming about the Pentagon echoed down the hallway, followed by a gravelly voice. He sounded angry and terrified all at once.

"Now he's dead too! Don't lie to me!"

Pauling reactivated her cloak and headed for the sound, listening to one side of what was clearly a two-sided radio conversation.

"Some kind of poison?

"Damn!

"Can I trust her?

"Naomi, what was that ninja thing? A member of FOXHOUND?"

Pauling slowed down, moving as silently as she could both to avoid detection and to listen. Sure, the cyborg ninja wasn't part of her mission. But she'd ran into the man twice now, and her curiosity was getting the best of her.

"Are you sure?

"Is that right?"

The conversation yielded no more information, but soon enough the quiet footsteps of the man who'd been talking echoed in the hall, and Pauling pressed herself against the wall and went still to let him charge past. He was younger than his voice betrayed, a man who couldn't have been past his mid-thirties, with brown hair and an angular face. He wore a blue sneaking suit that hugged his body tightly. Any other woman might have lingered more on his startlingly fantastic ass, Pauling mused as she watched him go.

So, that was the legendary Solid Snake, huh?

When he was gone, Pauling stole through another bombed out wall into the room Snake had left, where a metal support for the building had been sunk into the earth. There were bullet holes pocking the walls, and the soot and chipping of explosives used inside. Most importantly, there was the slumped corpse of Arms Tech president Kenneth Baker with no fresh signs of physical damage, merely the wounds of torture, halted midway through a slow healing process.

Miss Pauling sighed and knelt beside him, then rifled his coat and pockets. Nothing. She tugged the oversized satellite phone from her belt and extended its antenna, then dialed in.

"Administrator, ma'am?" "What is it, Pauling?"

"Kenneth Baker is dead, ma'am. Nothing of value left on him; so either FOXHOUND's taken the data disk, or he's passed it off to someone else. Possibly Solid Snake, who was just with him."

"Annoying," the Administrator's voice hummed over the satellite phone. "I'll just have to get the succession plan for Arms Tech underway, so it doesn't interrupt business. They're already treading thin ice financially, close to becoming a liability as a subsidiary."

"Of course, ma'am."

"Shame. Baker was useful. He was good for outlandish projects like Shadow Moses. Understood that he couldn't say no. How did he die?"

"There aren't any marks on him, so it looks like something internal, possibly. "I heard screaming, so it was likely Baker. Maybe a heart attack?"

"Ah," the Administrator replied, a sigh following. "They deployed it, then."

"Deployed what?"

"Miss Pauling, whatever you do, do not come into contact with Solid Snake."

"I passed him in a hallway, ma'am."

"How close?" "Probably eight feet or so?"

"You should be fine."

"Ma'am?"

"Don't worry about it. More importantly, you're going to need to be more creative about getting to the cache without alerting FOXHOUND now that Baker's dead and unable to get you there. I trust you'll have that well in hand."

"Yes ma'am; I'll handle it. Over and out." Pauling hung up the phone and reattached it to her belt. She stood, looking down at Baker with a frown.

Deployed what, exactly?

[typingatlightspeed]

Metal Gear/TF2 Crossover Fic - cp_shadow_moses_event - Chapter 4

"Snake, what do you know about the Gravel Wars?" "The Gravel Wars?" Snake repeated, almost disbelieving.

Snake's made it inside, with BLU well on the way to the same as FOXHOUND gears up for the big, long con and Octopus becomes the first casualty of the bigger, longer con going on behind it all. Mantis has his doubts about their survival, but Liquid is one hell of an inspirational leader. Just like his father.

Ao3 Link!

ngl that "what do you know about the Gravel Wars" line was the very first thing I thought of when @tarisbackyard gave me this prompt lmao. Also: some Engie/Spy flirting! Is it a relationship? Are they just flirty friends? Who knows! I sure don't. All I know is Medic is thirsting after Raven, and, like, I get it tho.

---------

Snake's boots clunked softly onto the catwalk that ringed the upper level of the tank hangar as he dropped from a vent overhead. The room was large and open, with precious few places to tuck himself away and not be seen. There looked like four doors on the upper level, two on either side. Normally, it would be more than a challenge to get through unscathed, with the small smattering of genome soldiers patrolling there backed up by a few oscillating security cameras.

Fortunate for him, then, that explosions began rocking the heliport outside, followed by a cacophony of screams and what sounded like machine gun fire of some sort. Snake couldn't help but be as startled as the guards at the commotion. There wasn't supposed to be any direct fire support for him, and an assault directly on the facility would put everyone in there on high alert, making his mission that much harder.

On top of that, there was the whole risk of a nuclear incident and subsequent worldwide scandal, if not worse.

He didn't have time for suppositions; not when he had an opportunity to seize. It took startlingly little effort to slip down to the elevator on the ground floor and steal his way inside, eyes widening as an explosion punched a massive dent into the armoured doors that closed the hangar to the elements outside. He pressed the button for B1 and the elevator doors slid closed, leaving him wondering.

He opened a codec channel. "Colonel, there's some kind of bombardment going on outside, right behind me. What's going on?"

Campbell's voice rasped through the small bones in Snake's inner ear, and it felt like the man was grousing right next to him. "Extremely unforeseen interference," he grumbled, "this has a possibility of throwing a huge wrench into this operation."

"Unforeseen interference?" Naomi cut into the transmission. "Snake, what do you know about the Gravel Wars?"

"The Gravel Wars?" Snake repeated, almost disbelieving. "You mean that civilian conflict between two companies over the control of a bunch of quarries around the New Mexico badlands that's been going for a century or so?"

"It's not just the New Mexico badlands, Snake. While the main focus of it is in and around the gravel pits of the city of Teufort, that's true, it's long since escalated basically anywhere those companies have opened businesses over the decades. Water bottling, breweries, lumber, coal, and more, mostly still focused on the southwestern US, but other places in the world have dealt with its fallout as well."

"It's fought entirely by mercenaries, right? And been at a stalemate for as long as it's been going."

"Exactly," Naomi said. "The belligerents are Reliable Excavation and Demolition, owned by Redmond Mann, and Builder's League United, owned by his twin brother, Blutarch Mann. The Manns have fought for supremacy their entire lives, each mirroring the other's advances to try and undercut his brother. And each is the heir of all of their late father's properties and businesses, but only when one of them alone is left alive. It's been all-out war between them ever since."

Snake shook his head in confusion. "What does any of that have to do with Shadow Moses?"

Campbell cut back into the signal. "A team of nine mercenaries from Builder's League United has just taken the heliport, and are the ones bombarding the door to the tank hangar to get inside."

"That doesn't make any sense, Colonel. This facility is owned by Arms Tech on a US government contract, right? What would BLU want with this place?"

"That's something we don't know; and we're trying to find out."

"What are my orders, then?"

"Continue with the mission," Campbell said, though Snake could hear a ghost of unsureness in his tone. "We'll do what we can on our end to get you intel. Most importantly, try to stay out of their way for the time being until we can find out what they're doing there. It can't be a coincidence that this is happening all at once."

"Got it," Snake replied, closing the channel.

*

"He's almost reached Octopus," Psycho Mantis reported, eyes closed, concentrating on tracking Snake's thought patterns over a distance.

"Right on schedule," Ocelot said, checking his watch.

"I'm impressed you can sense him that far," Sniper Wolf replied with a lifted eyebrow.

"I am too," Mantis admitted. "Normally it would be simple, but with all of the fresh commotion—"

"The mercenaries," Raven supplied, looking over to where RED was making their final equipment checks.

"They're loud."

"I can't disagree." Wolf noticed the lanky one in the slouch hat staring at her for a long moment, her expression hardening.

"He's looking at your rifle," Mantis said matter-of-factly as the mercenary approached.

"Miss?"

Sniper had expected the woman with the rifle to startle as he addressed her, approaching out of her line of sight. Instead, the dull reaction of her slowly turning to look at him gave him pause.

"What do you want?" Wolf asked, eyes slowly taking in the tall, narrow man before her.

If Sniper didn't know any better he'd have thought she'd been drugged, the way her words drawled out and her eyes didn't so much move as heave in whatever direction she was looking. It was enough that he found himself less surprised by the beauty of the woman before him than he was her uncannily languid affect. "Er, just noticed your rifle. That's a H&K PSG-1, isn't it?"

Wolf turned to face the man, "It is."

"Beauty of a gun, that," Sniper chuckled. "Been thinkin' about pickin' one up, but that price tag's got me wallet scared stiff. But givin' it a squiz in person I'm thinkin' I might change me tune. 'opin' I might pick your brain on its pros and cons, if you've a minute."

A small smile slowly spread across Wolf's lips. Mantis hadn't been lying; he really was looking at her rifle. "What do you want to know?"

"I've 'eard it kicks out the casings a ways; really chucks the cunts. Got concerns about that givin' away my position."

"You definitely have to account for it when setting up your placement..."

Mantis watched the two of them walk away to chat, shaking his head. He turned to Raven, who was staring at Heavy, eyeing the minigun the man was currently loading, gently talking to it as though it were a beloved child. "More weaponry ogling," Mantis teased, making the shaman frown.

"It's rare I see a man who can lift and fire a weapon even close to something like mine," Raven supplied dismissively. "Especially one so much smaller than me."

"Their medic is staring at you as well," Mantis added, directing Raven's gaze to the doctor beside Heavy, who was indeed looking with obvious interest at the enormous Inuk, stealing glances whenever his attention wasn't diverted elsewhere.

A soft laugh hefted through Raven's nose. "Should I be concerned?"

"It depends. Partly, he wants to study you. Considers you a massive, sturdy specimen. He's comparing you to the Heavy. He wants to know what your organs look like."

"How does it depend, then?"

"The other part involves exchanging genetic material," Mantis said, his words like ooze seeping through his mask. "He's comparing you to the Heavy."

"You are quite the specimen, my friend," Ocelot teased.

Raven frowned and looked back to the doctor, who upon noticing eyes on him, offered the giant a friendly wave and a smile with too many teeth. "I need to get people on setting up those mines."

Mantis shook his head, watching as Raven peeled off to be anywhere else.

"He considered it, didn't he?" Ocelot asked with a smirk.

Mantis didn't dignify him with a response, disgusted by such base preoccupations. He turned to leave, only to be startled by the sudden sight of a gas mask in front of him.

Pyro tilted his head curiously at the other gas mask wearer. His voice muffled by filters, he offered a bright, "Hello!"

Mantis stared into those blank lenses and saw Hell.

Bone, bullets, blades, the spilling of bile, blood, bowel, splattered across the landscape in stark, frank totality. Flames billowed and danced, guttered and roared, drawing screams of terror and agony. The stench of charred flesh and singed wood, of chemical accelerant. Smoke churned skyward as if bellowed from the gullet of some great beast as sobbing and moans of agony mingled with it in the air.

Glitter danced over all of it, fuzzing in and out like static overtaking a weak signal, two channels broadcasting on the same frequency fighting for dominance as a storm roiling overhead threatened to disrupt reception of both. Fluffy white clouds puffed into the air from sparkling sprays of colour and light, giggles and squeals of glee accompanying the lilting hum of some bubblegum pop song. Babies played hide and seek and cheered as they were given big oversized lollipops and stickers with cute animals on them. Under it all, Mantis could smell rot, char, and iron.

He froze in place like a deer in headlights as Pyro craned forward to inspect him.

Ocelot sighed, shook his head, and went to tell Heavy to get his men together and move the hell out already. He had his own work to attend to in the hangar building.

*

"What's it look like in there, Spy?" BLU Engineer asked into his radio while he waited for Demoman to finish improvising a breaching charge on the hangar door.

There was a moment of quiet before Spy's voice crackled through the earpiece. "A large, open room. A catwalk ringing it, tanks on the lower level. It's a hangar. There is an elevator and a cargo door across from the entrance, both shut." "And the occupants?"

"Two guards, currently very distracted by the previous attempts at breaching the door. Also, a pair of security cameras."

"Get the feelin' that ain't gonna be so much a problem. If they don't know we're already here, some video footage of our ugly mugs ain't gonna do much to help that kind 'o ignorance."

"Ugly mugs? Mon ami, I can't imagine who you're speaking of," Spy teased. "Certainly not you or I. Maybe Soldier, I suppose."

"You flirtin' with me, son?"

A snicker creaked across the channel. "You're just now noticing?" That snicker turned into a snort as Engineer whooped a laugh on the other end.

"What about Solid Snake?"

"Handsome, in his own way."

"You're incorrigible. I mean where is he?"

Spy chuckled. "No sign. He's either well hidden or on the lower floors. We're clear of him for the moment."

"You got a handle on the two fellers in there?"

"They'll cease to be a problem long before you get inside."

"Heard. Over 'n out." Engineer turned to Demoman. "That charge almost ready?"

Demoman waved him off, a pair of pliers in one hand as he wired up the charges to a detonator. "Aye, just a tick. We clear in there?"

The heavily muffled screams of men being stabbed through the spine sounded through the door.

"I know he knows how do to that quiet. Why's he gotta let 'em go out screamin'?"

Demoman chuckled, "Like ye can talk about sadism. Get tae cover!"

*

Snake could have sworn he felt the rumble of an explosion from overhead. But it wasn't important. Not as he knelt over the body of the DARPA chief, Donald Anderson. Not as he reeled with fury and confusion at Campbell's suspicious reaction over the codec. Not as the sinking feeling settled into his gut that he was once again being sent on a mission just to be betrayed and not just expected, but planned not to return.

He couldn't dwell on it. No matter what shady dealings were happening on the other end of his codec, he was in the field, and there was a metal gear in play. And no matter what was thrown at him, that was the most important thing he had to worry about. He had to focus. All there was to do was to continue, so he would.

The sound of a scuffle outside of his cell took him aback.

*

"Octopus is dead and Silverburgh is free," Mantis reported into the radio, his voice rasping through gas mask filters in a tone that was almost disappointment.

"He killed him?" Wolf asked, rounding on her teammate.

"Looked like a heart attack."

"A heart attack? No. That's too convenient." "Too convenient indeed," Liquid snake hummed, reentering the hangar.

Wolf tilted her head slowly. "You're finally back." "You try emergency landing a Hind D in a blizzard when your helipad's occupied by mercenaries with rocket launchers," Liquid huffed, pouting as Wolf smirked in reply.

"Do you have any theories as to what killed him, then?" Mantis asked, staring down his old friend through shaded lenses.

"No, but Wolf's right. It's suspicious."

"He could have poisoned Octopus. Did he make physical contact?" Wolf asked, looking to Mantis.

"No. Not until he collapsed."

Liquid took a deep breath, letting it out slowly through his nose. "We'll need to be more careful. Stay alert for any tricks he has up his sleeve. But we need him. Without him, and Mantis' plan, we can't unlock REX and all of this will have been for nothing. Including Octopus' death."

"Shall we get in place for this charade, then?" Mantis asked, choosing not to voice just how surprised and alarmed Liquid's mind was. He covered his own interiority well to the physical observer, just as he always did.

"Yes. I need to stay ready for his codec calls. Master Miller needs to remain available to feed him Alaskan trivia and other such nonsense."

"We'll get into place, then," Wolf sighed, digging a pill bottle from her pack and popping a diazepam.

"Go easy on those," Liquid said, ignoring the immediate annoyance with which his command was greeted. "I don't want you falling asleep waiting for him."

"I'll make sure to sound the alarm for her once I have him in sight," Mantis assured Liquid with amusement. "And if she's asleep, her dreams will simply get very strange until she wakes up."

"I'll be fine, don't worry," Wolf assured Liquid, shooting a look to Mantis before walking out.

Once they were alone, Liquid looked to Mantis. "Glad to see you in such good spirits. What's got you joking around for once?"

"The gallows," Mantis replied flatly.

"You think we'll all die here, don't you?"

"Octopus is already dead. Solid Snake brings death with him wherever he goes, whether he uses lethal methods or not."

"That's awfully florid of you."

"It's not florid if it's demonstrable fact from past missions he's been on. It's not like Dirty Duck or Running Man are still out there running ops, Eli."

A long sigh left Liquid's nose. He couldn't argue with that. "This plan was your idea."

"And I stand by it. But it's a delicate dance, throwing a fight and making it look convincing. Moreso when you stand a real chance at catching your final bullet in the process."

"We have to hope that Octopus was a fluke. We have to hope that our Outer Heaven will have a place for all of us," Liquid offered. He made no contact with his touch-averse old friend, but his tone itself was like a warm clap on the shoulder.

Mantis' breath shuddered through the filters of his mask. "Hope is superstition. We have to make it that way."

"We will."

Liquid believed it. God, he believed it to the core of his being. And seeing it, Mantis couldn't help but believe it a little too.

[typingatlightspeed]

Metal Gear/TF2 Crossover - cp_shadow_moses_event Chapter 3

Snake's in the building, the stage is set, now it's time for everyone to get into their places! Spy takes a moment to show appreciation for a master of his artform, while Heavy comes to an understanding with a fellow practitioner of the art of torture. Medic meets the biggest man he's ever seen and gets a little starry-eyed about it. Ocelot's just so, so fucking done already and it's all just getting started!

Ao3 Link!

I hope people are reading and enjoying these so far. This baby's been a lot of work and continues to be, and it's kind of been mostly radio silence, so I'm not gonna lie, it's been a little discouraging. If you are, please gimme a reblog or at least drop me a comment or a line. Thanks.

---------

"He's inside the building. Get into place," Ocelot hissed, leaning against the wall beside the holding cell's entrance.

Decoy Octopus knelt over the rotting body of the late DARPA chief, Donald Anderson. "Just checking for any final discrepancies," he assured Ocelot, spreading the corpse's eye open with his fingers and studying details. It was more than a little difficult with how milky it had gone with decomposition.

"He's never met Anderson," Ocelot assured him. "So long as you match the file photo he's probably been shown, it'll be fine. You're working off of his memory of an image he's probably seen once, and I can assure you, the image resolution isn't going to be anything to stress about."

"I do things right, Ocelot," Octopus stated firmly, letting go of Anderson's corpse and standing, turning to the Russian with a frown. He wore a perfect duplicate of Anderson's face, Anderson's body, Anderson's mannerisms and voice. "But you're not Ocelot, are you?"

"Bravo," hummed the RED Spy, dropping his disguise.

"Thought I smelled smoke," Octopus hummed, unimpressed. "Surprised you got this far from REX's hangar unnoticed."

"What can I say? Professional curiosity has gotten the better of me. There are few in the field of impersonation-based espionage so lauded as the infamous Decoy Octopus," Spy purred, smiling warmly to the subject of his flattery.

Octopus didn't dignify it. "You have one for each of us?"

"Except for yourself. Rare would be the occasion one would have to disguise as you out of disguise, after all. The mystery of the man behind it all remains intact." Spy tucked his disguise kit into his jacket pocket, an eyebrow canting up. "Is it true what they say? That you receive a blood transfusion from your subjects when preparing?"

That got Octopus to crack a bit. The Frenchman knew his stuff. "It is. Hard to be a perfect double if a simple blood test'll give me away."

"Yes, simple," Spy hummed. He had to respect the dedication, even if it was absolutely insane. "But please, don't let me keep you, Octopus. Solid Snake is in the building, and this is your cue, mon ami."

Octopus nodded in reply, leaving the cell and striding off with purpose. Before he left, he paused. "Your impression's good," he said. "Spytron kits don't do voice modulation."

"No... no they don't," Spy replied, in Ocelot's voice.

A soft chuckle hefted out of Octopus, and he slipped out the door.

*

Ocelot snarled as he slammed down his radio, glowering at the mercenaries currently going over a map to the base, a few of them talking strategy while the one in the helmet picked his nose, clearly bored out of his skull. He knew hiring these idiots would draw the other Mann brother's attention, BLU already knocking at their front door with violent aplomb.

And where both Mann brothers were, that old witch wouldn't be far behind.

Dimly, he noticed that their spy wasn't with them. He tried not to let that worry him too much right now. He had enough irons in the fire. He picked the radio back up and switched to Liquid's frequency. "Boss, we have a complication. The heliport's been taken; you'll need to land Turns out Redmond isn't the only Mann brother aware of this op. BLU controls that point now, and are currently gearing up to push inside, from what the cameras are showing."

"BLU is here? God's sake, man, have you sent the REDs to intercept?"

"Not yet, Boss. They're going over the facility's layout right now. Also, your dear brother's currently in the vents, so we wouldn't want to trouble him just yet. Octopus is getting into place."

"If he's inside, that's our priority. We don't want to jeopardize that by catching him in the crossfire, and they do not have clearance to be in on the plan."

"What's the move, Boss?" Ocelot knew what he would prefer, but it would require more than six shots.

"He's going to be busy for a while. Send RED in to try and push them back to the heliport. Orders are not to engage Solid Snake under any circumstances, even if it means falling back or taking detours. Their priority is keeping the Australium safe. If they lose ground in the process, so be it."

"Roger." Ocelot sighed. This had gone from clever to stupid in no time flat. Taking a deep breath to center himself, he whirled on his heel, casually ambling over to the assembled REDs, his spurs jingling with each step. "Gentlemen! A moment of your time?"

The REDs came to some form of attention, turning to regard the approaching FOXHOUND member. Their soldier continued picking his nose, uninterested. Their heavy weapons specialist looked him up and down, his eyes widening just so in recognition.

"You," he said pointedly, his accent thick. "I know you."

"Do you, now?" Ocelot asked, smiling placidly.

It was the sort of smile that never reached the eyes, a mask worn to hide a man's true feelings and motives, and even more to refuse any indication of surprise or intrigue. Heavy hated that kind of smile. It was deeply patronizing in an arrogant way. Spy wore it often, pleasant yet mocking, and it made Heavy wonder if that was just how people like them were trained to behave.

"You're the GRU's prodigal son," Heavy replied, switching to Russian, "their favourite dog, who broke his chain. You made your name in the sharashkas before the Soviets tried to take Afghanistan. The Afghanis named you Shalashaska. Oh yes, I know you."

That had cracked the mask a little, a sparkle leaping to the old man's eyes as his eyebrow canted upward. That awful smile transitioned subtly from placid neutrality to smugness. "You know my work."

"I know your reputation, that you're known as a virtuoso in the art of torture. A sadist who takes ecstatic joy in destroying men for information." Heavy's face stayed unreadable, his eyes hard and sharp. "And yet, in spite of so many canvases presented to you by the Party, you left the Motherland, defecting to America."

Ocelot's smile finally reached his eyes, impressed by the florid words of the hulking giant before him. "Some things are more important than your homeland," he hummed, meeting the larger man's gaze sternly.

"Especially when your homeland must suffer the indignity of rulership by evil men; cowards and cronies who think they can cow her and her people," Heavy replied with a curt nod.

And like that, Ocelot's moustache twitched as his lip curled in a smirk. He'd judged the giant right. "I've heard of you too, comrade. What you did to that gulag was quite the work of art, yourself."

It was Heavy's turn to smirk. "It's important to love what you do. What I do is kill cowards."

Scout let out an annoyed groan, scrubbing a hand over his face. "So are you guys done flirtin' in Russian or what? Weren't you gonna give us some marchin' orders, Pistol Bobcat?"

Both Russians turned a glare at the mouthy American, making him shrink away and tuck himself entirely behind Medic and out of their line of sight.

Ocelot let a long sigh out through his nose and pivoted. "There's been a complication. Builder's League United has deployed to the island, and have taken control of the heliport at the southern entrance of the facility."

Immediately, Soldier blundered past anyone between himself and Ocelot, seemingly activated. "THE BLUS ARE HERE?!" he barked. "Finally, some action! What are our orders, General?"

Ocelot scowled. "They're going to try and take the tank hangar next. Defend it, try and push them back to the heliport." "We will defend that hangar with our lives!" Soldier barked.

"The hangar isn't as important as the Australium. Keep that in mind. But even more important is the operation we're running here. There's a man currently crawling into the hangar. He's a dead ringer for Liquid; different hair colour. Code name Solid Snake." Demoman looked to Sniper and mouthed, 'Solid Snake?' silently, and mimed jerking off, earning a soft snicker from the other man.

"Do not engage him under any circumstances. The boss has personal beef with him," Ocelot explained, leveling a glare at each mercenary in turn. "If combat against BLU might interfere with him, you are to fall back, no argument."

"Retreat?" Soldier blustered, scandalized.

"Tactics," Ocelot corrected firmly, brows settling into a straight line as he came to terms with how little he was getting through to the barrel-chested idiot.

"Aye, dinnae worry," Demoman assured him, throwing an arm around Soldier. "We'll keep a leash on this retriever."

The way Soldier's mouth fell open in joy at being half-hugged made the canine description fit like a glove. Ocelot wanted to kill every single one of them and then fling himself into the Bering Sea.

Vulcan Raven approached the group, broad and towering over everyone, even Heavy. He was shirtless, covered in tattoos, and demanded attention just by his proximity alone. "Once the hangar is either taken or held, Solid Snake will need to exit to the snowfield beyond. That's where I'll be waiting for him. Any retreat falls back past me to the disposal building."

"Just you?" Medic asked, looking the massive man over with wide, sparkling eyes, ignoring the dirty look Heavy gave him for gawking at the giant.

"Just me. And a field of claymore mines. And a tank," Raven assured him with humour in his voice.

Medic seemed to sag just a bit, clearly disappointed that this wouldn't be a hand-to-hand show of force. "Ah. I see."

Ocelot cut off any further chatter. "Begin your preparation. That door will hold, but for who knows how long? And you have limited time before Snake makes his way into the hangar."