The assassin stood, arms crossed confidently over his broad chest as he stifled back a cough from the smoke-saturated room. It was dark, but the man's highly tuned senses had no problem scanning the barren saloon for any possible foul play. He had received a tip to meet a man known only by the name "Adam" at some abandoned bar in the middle of nowhere, and the place seemed like it was ripped straight from the old west. Everything was wooded, with each floorboard having its own distinct squeak and the piano in the corner playing a soft melody. As Deathstroke's would-be employer sat comfortably behind the bar, feet on the counter and a cigar in hand, it would be impossible not to liken him to an old time cowboy.
He spoke, in such a rough bark that the creamy cool tone of the words seemed almost impossible.
The assassin's ears immediately perked up at the sound of his real name.
"AKA, ." His more common moniker was spoken with blatantly obvious contempt, and rather than striking a sickly fear into the depth's of the cowboy's heart as it usually does to those unfortunate enough to know it, he seemed nothing if not amused by the name.
"I hear you're pretty good." The cowboy casually puffed his cigar, waiting for Slade's response.
"The best." He said simply. The cowboy chuckled.
"Good, because I don't deal with anyone but." He took one last breath of smoke, and flicked the spent roll off to the side. Standing up, Slade could see the man in all his buckaroo glory, a classic duster coat obscuring most of "Adam's" finer features, but it took the assassin no time at all to notice the revolver tucked neatly to the side.
"Revolver Ocelot." He spoke, and couldn't help but feel a sliver of satisfaction build up at the genuinely surprised look on his benefactor's face.
"Impressive deduction skills, assassin." Ocelot said.
"The 'Adam' was a dead giveaway." Slade smirked. Ocelot was undeterred.
"Let's hope your combat skills are up to par, because I have got a very interesting proposal to make."
"This is Snake. I've infiltrated the manor."
Solid Snake - or David, as he will be known for this mission - adjusted his bow tie and slicked his hair back.
"Gotta say, this tux does bring out the color of my eyes."
"Good job Snake." Hal Emmerich's excited voice rang over the CODEC. "Commencing operation: Party Crasher."
David nodded to himself and surveyed the area. A crowded ballroom populated by some of the wealthiest industrialists and political figures in the country stood before him, the quaint moonlight providing a beautiful window view while the massive chandelier illuminating the massive space allowed patrons to dance and mingle as they pleased. Snake- David did his best to fit in, drawing no attention to himself at the risk of somebody realizing he should not be there.
"Any sight of Wayne?" Otacon's voice chimed in.
"Not yet." Snake whispered.
"Well you've got to hurry up Snake! Have you forgotten there is a spy sneaking around there looking to kidnap him?!" Otacon nearly screamed.
"How could I forget my own mission." The soldier replied sardonically. Otacon sighed.
"Snake, you're not there to kidnap the guy. You're just looking to convince-"
"Extort." Snake interrupted.
"Extort information about "Metal Gear: Wayne" before whoever else is there can do it." The otaku explained.
"Otacon..." Snake growled. "I know that... who are you explaining this to?" Snake turned off his CODEC and sighed. There had been reports that a new Metal Gear prototype was being developed by Wayne Industries, fittingly monickered "Metal Gear: Wayne." Apparently a rival spy - or even several - were at the party at that very moment, looking for information on the powerful weapon, and it was Snake's job to stop that from happening.
David took a minute to think of how he was going to lure Wayne out. He was no doubt at the party - Otacon's information was 100%, not to mention this was his house; where else could he be? The problem was finding him in this massive place. David made a mental checklist of everything he knew about Bruce Wayne.
- Dead parents
- And dumb as a sack of bricks
Not much to go on. But for a procure-on-sight master, it was all that was needed.
"Looks like I'll have to use my... secret technique." David muttered, and a devilish grin spread across his face.
"Master Bruce! Master Bruce come quickly!"
"What is it Alfred?" Bruce Wayne looked up from his seat at the study, worriedly eyeing the panicked butler.
"Master Bruce! You've been called out!" Alfred heaved from airless lungs.
"I've been... What?" Alfred led the vigilante through the many corridors of his massive mansion, and as they progressed, Bruce began to notice the classical tone had been swapped out for a hip-hop beat, and all of Wayne's guests were gathered in a large circle, watching what must have been an amazing spectacle on the inside. Bruce Wayne shoved his way through the crowd, desperately searching for whatever magnificence was inside. And as he finally reached his destination, Batman, The Dark Knight, Gotham City's Caped Crusader and founding member of the JLA, witnessed a sight more beautiful than any woman, flower, or extraterrestrial planet, he has ever laid witness to.
In a grand display of radiant footwork and grandiose flexibility, two of the guests had engaged in an impromptu break dancing competition. The glittering dexterity of these two men blew anything else Wayne had ever seen off the face of the Earth, with every individual move being a scream of colors and beauty that penetrated every fiber of the vigilante's soul. They seemed to go on for hours, in an endless display of unEarthly determination and prowess, their dance of death a true testament to the will of all mankind, symbolically representing the inner struggle within all of God's creatures. But in the end, only one of them could be the victor.
"Gahh!" Commissioner Gordon had been foolish enough to take Solid Snake up on his offer for a friendly competition. But alas, he had rocked too hard, and his aged ankle snapped from the stress. David was declared the winner, and everyone in the ballroom wept tears of magic and wonder.
"Bingo." David muttered. His ploy had worked. The soldier knew no man could resist his breakdancing charms; Wayne had come running to the head of the crowd just as expected.
However, before David could make contact, a massive explosion ripped through the manor, and a chunk of debris struck Wayne violently, knocking him out cold.
The party immediately erupted into chaos, with guests fleeing for their very lives as Deathstroke the Terminator strolled in.
"Where. Is. Wayne." He demanded. The assassin's eyes locked with David's, there equally hard gaze stalemating. Eventually, the soldier gestured towards the half-dead corpse of Bruce Wayne in response to the question.
"Oh." Slade mumbled. "Well the Russian didn't say anything about taking him in unharmed. So long as we can get the information on Metal Gear." The assassin bent over and took hold of the playboy's corpse, getting ready to haul the objective outside and back into Ocelot's waiting hands, when suddenly a shot rang out. Deathstroke's highly tuned reflexes narrowly avoided the death blow.
"What the hell-!"
"I'm afraid I can't let you take that man." Solid Snake in all his glory had made a miraculous instant transition into his signature sneaking suit, pistol in hand.
The two soldiers stared each other down, and both could instantly tell, only one of them would be leaving this house tonight.
tl;dr cliffs below
I was making this up as I went along so it kinda got a bit out of hand. Sorry for the length, reading is not necessary unless you're looking for Solid Snake breakdancing feats. Cliffs follow:
- Solid Snake in his prime with Metal Gear Solid 4 gear
- NEW 52 Slade Wilson with standard gear
- Fight to the DEATH
- Moral ON
- Basic knowledge
- Fight throughout Wayne Manor beginning at 20 feet across in plain sight
- Bruce Wayne is unconscious and will not interfere
- Everybody has abandoned the manor besides the two fighters