READ THE AUTHOR'S NOTES PLEASE

AN~ This may need more explanation than ANY of my previous fanfictions. I was talking with a close friend while playing fallout four and he noted my love of both the Fallout games and TF2 and the fact that I had made one of the Mercs in Fallout 4. He then proceeded to ask me to make a fanfiction combining both worlds. Not sure whether or not me agreeing to do it was a good or bad thing, but, HEY, I'll try it. I won't back down from an honest challenge. Anyway, the way I combine the worlds is stupid as all hell, but it's TF2. That game is neither realistic nor totally serious and I find that, in the context of the TF2 universe, it fits alright. Anyway, I'm sorry for this. I'm not sorry for this. Here you go.


"A reactor?" Miss Pauling seemed almost annoyed with the idea of BLU looking to a nuclear deterrent for the solution of the Gravel Wars rather than the expected shock or anger. Spy himself thought the idea to be incredibly reckless, but saw no need to worry, either. BLU was anything if not short-sided. He'd been among them enough to know. At that moment, he was acting as a sort of 'body-guard' for Miss Pauling as she attended one of her less secretive meetings. "So this is his idea? Blow RED off the map along with all of Tuefort and a good portion of the surrounding area?" They were standing around a large, oval table, worn and in need of some cleaning. The room itself was also drab and outdated with faded grey walls and old, white carpets so aged that they were more so black than their original color. A woman sat at the other end. She was around Miss Pauling's age and had a similar complexion. She, however, was brown-headed with very dark eyes and longer hair.

"Well, Miss Pauling, to be honest, Tuefort is of no great loss and the area around it is mostly barren. Still, they elimination of RED opposition is not in our interests. The intelligence that your agent managed to grab was very informative to the whereabouts of this reactor, though, and we can send the team in for a direct strike. The sooner it is destroyed, the better we'll be, so I advise you head in as soon as possible."

"But," spy broke in, eyes glazed over with disinterest. "What would there be to stop them from trying to build it again?" The woman nodded and pulled out a sheet of paper with numerous pictures printed across it. She slid it across the table to the pair. Spy glanced over Miss Pauling's shoulder and found that the pictures were of some sort of cylinder with hazard symbols haphazardly painted across its chrome shell.

"That is the power supply. Its a prototype super fuel that scientists in New Zealand were working on before the entire island disappeared. It's not incredibly strong, but it works. Some guy over in Thailand managed to find it and gladly sold it to BLU for a grand total of sixteen-million dollars, though it's worth so much more. As with all relics and fractured technology found from the New Zealanders, there isn't much of it. Taking this small amount from BLU should leave them both broke and unable to power their reactor properly. Any later attempts will be easy to disrupt once this stuff is out of their hands." Spy sighed and irritably followed Miss Pauling out once all the information needed was gathered. Once they were clear of the building and in Spy's car, he gripped the wheel so hard that his knuckles popped under his gloves.

"Tell me again how they had no idea that BLU had this technology until now? I thought that they monitored their every move."

Miss Pauling gave a sigh of her own as they pulled out onto the dusty asphalt outside the town of Tuefort. "They can monitor the mercenaries themselves, but when the CEO makes a move with money from his own pockets, it's void until someone uncovers it. If it wasn't for you and Sniper, this would have never reached us. We still got it early, though. We can stop this. They won't get any further with their 'end-all' solution. As soon as we get to base, we rally everyone up, go over a plan, and move once we're sure we know what we're doing."


In truth, Miss Pauling wasn't at all exactly sure what they were doing. She knew what they needed to do, but how they needed to do it was void to her. She looked at the plans of the base over and over and still couldn't formulate any sort of coherent battle strategy. It didn't help that Scout was swooning over her as he usually did when given the opportunity. "So, you gonna tell me what'chu doin'?" he asked, sitting down atop the table on which the young woman was toiling over a map and some blueprints. Having no more excuses or dismissals to hand the mercenary, Miss Pauling finally caved slightly.

"We have a very important mission to accomplish and I'm trying to figure out how we're going to do this. I can't if I'm not left time to focus."

Scout entirely ignored the last part and smiled lop-lopsidedly at her. "Hey, you're smart. You'll figure something out." Miss Pauling regarded the remark with silent resentment and allowed herself to drag a warm palm over her cheek. She'd been wringing her hands again. She REALLY needed to stop doing that.

"You've yet to think of a plan, I assume?" Spy commented, entering with another one of his disinterested expressions. He was minus his suit jacket, leaving his upper half in but a red waistcoat. Pauling was almost relieved to see him, but she knew that he wouldn't be much help, either. As of late, Spy had been VERY moody. Today's seemed to be somewhere between totally detached and depressed. What had been causing his strange behavior was unknown and would probably stay that way seeing as he was both a spy and a man. Even the most tender-hearted of the mercs, Engineer, was reluctant to share even the slightest emotional issue. Of course, they were all hired guns and emotional problems were not consequential to their line of work, but sometimes Miss Pauling thought that knowing what was going on with them would help keep them from getting at each other's throats. With such a diverse group of people, there was no telling what would pull one of their cords.

"No," she admitted, pinching her temples.

"What exactly HAVE you accomplished?"

"Well," she began, "I've mapped the exits, entrances, air ducts, loading bays, drainage systems, sleeping quarters, and the room that the device HAS to be in. It's not easy to get to. There are plenty of ways in, but they're very defendable and, if BLU's tactics hold true, they'll set up defenses at each of them in the blind spots. We're talking sentries, guards, and, from the looks of the plans you delivered, heat-detecting radars. You couldn't even get in from there, but besides those entrances, there's no other option. We can't just charge in, but there doesn't seem to be a better option."

"Indeed," Spy confirmed, folding his hands behind his back in a leisurely posture, "And that is what we will need to do, le plus cher superviseur."

"What?"

"We need chaos. We need to be loud and distracting. We keep the strongest of us standing long enough to distract the brunt of their defenses so that I or one of my similar allies could slip through the folie and take care of the machine swiftly. After that, we call retreat and leave our foes stunned and without their reactor." Through the explanation, Spy almost showed a hint of enthusiasm over his grey front as though his plan wasn't at all insane. Still, they had no better ideas. It was worth a try and the longer the BLUs had this technology, the worse the fate seemed for Tuefort and RED.

"Well, if you know what you're doing, call everyone in. Tell them what they need to do." She crossed her arms and leaned against the back wall, watching the man irritably. Spy wrinkled his nose in a split second of amusement.

"Why does it feel as though you resent this?"

"I don't. I'm just tired. I've been fighting myself with this for two days and here you are just spitting all that out like it was nothing."

"You try to over complicate things. Being quiet and covert would be best, but if the possibility of such a strike is nearly impossible, then we must move to the next best option. Now, I do believe we have an attack to coordinate and I would appreciate it if you helped gather the rest of us. I have some small things to gather before hand. I will meet you back here in a few moment's time. À la vôtre." And the Frenchman was gone again with a dismissal flick of his hand. Miss Pauling was still slightly disheartened, but sighed and looked at Scout.

"Go get the others, will you?"

"Sure thing, Miss Pauling." And, with that, he jogged off down one of the base's monotonous corridors and left Miss Pauling alone with her thoughts for the first time in a while. She relished this time and used it to beat herself up mentally for a good twenty minutes. If she couldn't do her job better than any of the mercs could, then there was something wrong. Granted, Spy was smarter than the average mercenary, but it was HER job to think of the battle plans and direct the team and the fact that she had failed to do that was more than enough to merit mental scolding. After some moments, she stopped and nodded at the group of mercs as the entered the small briefing room. Spy was among them, this time in his jacket and Miss Pauling suspected that that was all he had to get. He walked around the table and stood next to her, hands behind his back and expression, again, disinterested.

"Alright, now that we're all here, I can fill you in on the situation. Recently, Spy retrieved some intel on a nuclear reactor being built by the BLUs. They plan on using this reactor strictly for a meltdown scenario as a means of destroying you and bathing REDs land in radiation. The intel also uncovered a map of the base and the location of the reactor. From what I've managed to observe, there is no way to covertly sabotage their tech. We're going to have to go in hard and loud." She looked to Spy expectantly. The Frenchman picked up on the signal and cleared his throat.

"There are three entrances to the chamber and each is bound to be expertly guarded. There are blind spots in each corridor and platforms prime for sentries and soldiers. As Miss Pauling has told me, they also have a heat sensor, so my cloaking will provide little aid. Disguising is also fruitless as I am not able to safely destroy the device on my own. A team would be required including Engineer and Medic. There will be three teams of two, each pair entering from one of the corridors." He pointed to each of the jagged lines on the map. "Team one will enter from corridor A and consist of Heavy and Scout. Team two will enter from corridor C and consist of Demoman and Soldier. Team three will enter from the middle and consist of Pyro and Sniper. As a note for Pyro, please remain in front." From the back of the group, Sniper gave a dissatisfied snort, but remained silent in terms of protest. "Once you are all inside and causing chaos, Medic, Engineer, and I will tend to the reactor and make sure to deactivate it. After that, we take their elemental power source and you all can safely burn the base to the ground. Do we all understand?"

Pyro chirped happily behind their mask and clapped their hands eagerly. The very mention of fire was enough to send the being into a giddy rile. A few of their fellow team-mates shifty uneasily and others rolled their eyes. "I will take that as a yes."

"We mobilize immediately," Miss Pauling added. "Let's go, guys."


This BLU base was one of the smaller ones dotted across the Tuefort landscape. There had certainly been smaller and more congested establishments, but that didn't make this operation any less difficult. As a matter of fact, this might have been the most difficult operation to date. Discouragement was void to many of them, though. They all seemed in a very normal mind as though it were just a regular mission like any other. They had all loaded into as few vehicles as possible and, by Miss Pauling's request, Spy was put with his filthier counter-part in his camper. He was no stranger to the arrangement. Still, he didn't like it. The van was full of odd smells like cheap cigarettes of a foreign brand and the bushman had an odd taste in music that showed whenever he tired of the constricting silence around them and flipped through his small music selection. Along with Johnny O'Keefe, The Offbeats, and Judy Stone, the bushman had a considerable number of tapes of Johnny Cash and Frank Sinatra, both seeming more of Engineer's tastes, but Sniper wasn't very far off. It was times like that when Spy would mentally scold himself for not grabbing some of his own music to play. Today was one of the silent days, however, and they opted for it rather than music. The Bushman had said something in passing about not getting any new music and being sick of his usual sets

As a result, both of the assassins road wordlessly, the muffled sound of the dirt-road under tire being the only disturbance to this tranquility. Admittedly, Sniper wasn't all that bad. The man was a bit of a recluse, quiet and out of the way when not on the field. He kept to himself mostly and never honestly intended to rile anyone up unless they started it. Spy's distaste for him came mostly from the man's habits and general personality when he WASN'T being horribly introverted. He didn't want to say it was partially due to the Australian's life-style due to how shallow that might have seemed, but parts of it really did bother the Frenchman. Sniper was gritty, filthy, awkward, and even sometimes unintentionally silly, not to mention that most of his morals looked better on paper than in practice. Spy often wondered how well he stuck to them. Still, the man wasn't vein, loud, OVERLY smelly, or totally intolerable. In fact, he was one of his few team mates that he COULD sit quietly with without someone making a snide comment and causing a negative environment.

Even so, Sniper sometimes just rubbed him the wrong way and when he did, things escalated quickly. Usually with shouting, spitting insults, and even a fist or two. They were short lived moments, but intense ones. Why they, of all the mercenaries employed by RED, got on each others nerves the most was something Spy still contemplated and even wondered if the other thought as well. Maybe, if circumstances were different, they could have at least been distant friends, but meeting the man as he had removed all hope of that. Again, Spy didn't hate the man, he just didn't like him. He couldn't count the number of times that a situation such as that had stopped him from finding enjoyment in life. There were so many people that he wished he'd gotten to know, or been able to start over with. He made so many mistakes and cringed at the memory of them.

He would have stayed roaming his thoughts for longer, but he felt it as the van began to slow. The tiny fortress lay just beyond a wall on the horizon and Spy could see it through the windshield. With a grunt, his companion grabbed his rifle from its place behind the seats and stepped out of the vehicle, scoping in from the ledge on which they waited for the rest of their team. His face was concentrated and stern like a statue... One of the more interesting things about him... After some few more moments, the Frenchman stepped from the vehicle and took a long drag of his cigarette. The sun was just reaching the horizon in its final moments upon that day. Tuefort may have been a horrible, arid wasteland, but there was nothing like a red-sand sunset. It looked as though the hills were on fire.

Quietly, Spy approached his co-worker and sighed into his smoke. "What do you think of all this?" he asked after some more moments of silence. The thickness of the air was about to kill him. Someone needed to say something and it might as well have been him. Sniper grunted and lowered the scope, letting the rifle sag in his right hand as the stock lightly touched the ground. He picked up his tinted aviators and moved them atop his hat. With a lick of his lips, he finally found his words.

"I'unno. Somethin' don' seem right. Gotta sick feelin' in me gut. Anythin' 'bout this seem off to'ya?"

"Vaguely. There is no telling. I wish we could all be so sure about something like this, but fate is something we simply cannot control. What exactly is within those walls has yet to be seen. Maybe we were wrong. Maybe it is a trap. Maybe we were right. All we can do is try to make it better with what effort we can muster."

"What if they be playin' us?"

"And what if they are not? We cannot afford the chance, tireur d'élite."

"I know. That's what scares me. We could die or we could lose everythin'. They ain't never done nothin' like this before. What the bloody hell could'a made them jump like this? I mean, spillin' gallons of blood over merc business is one thing, but irradiating an entire region... Crikey, that's horrid... e'en for them." Spy nodded and chewed his lip out of habit.

"Oui... but... What was that saying? Quand je marche dans l'ombre de la vallée de la mort, je ne crains aucun mal?"

"Uhh... Yeh, sure, mate."

"Hmm... You are being dismissal again, bushman. You didn't even ask what I said."

"I ain't bein' dismissal. I just been focused on other things 'sides what you're yubbing 'bout in french. I don' mean t'seem rude, cobber, but I ain't got time t'be foolin' with ya."

Another sigh. "When have you ever any time to talk? You are always off on your own, being lonely. Do you mean to isolate yourself, tireur d'élite? I do NOT think that it's healthy. I already question your sanity and this prolonged-"

"Do not start with me. I like me pri'vsy 'n I like bein' left 'lone. What I do with myself is me own damn business an' I ain't takin' to you gripin' over it. Why's it even mattah t'ya anyway? Puttin' that long nose where ya' shouldn't."

"You act as though you have something to hide." A small grin slipped across Spy's face as he blew out a cloud of smoke. Sniper merely shook his head and lifted his scope once more to glare at the horizon. It was then that the other parts to their group finally arrived and began to group up around the two of them. With that, the silence was broken.

"Sniper," began Miss Pauling, "What are the outside defenses looking like?"

"Uh... That's the troublin' part. There ain't none. They must be pretty confident on the inside. Crikey, we could walk right in." Miss Pauling swallowed heavily before clasping her hands together and trying a brave face.

"Well, the plan goes as we discussed. Split into your groups and move out. I'll be behind Sniper and Pyro to see this device myself. Let's move, men."


The corridors were grey... winding...and quiet... Deadly silent. In every place that they'd suspected a sentry or guard to be, there was nothing. A very sick feeling began to swell inside Spy and it took most of his will to suppress it. If something was indeed wrong, he needed to be ready. They rounded the final corridor and stopped... There was the main-chamber... and there was no one in sight...

Each of the RED mercs slowly peeked from their entrances like spooked animals at the scent of a predator. They glanced about room and were even more unsettled when they found no one. Spy slowly slipped into the room, pistol drawn and spine rigid. The others fallowed, all mimicking the posture. The worst part was that, in the middle of the room, lay not a reactor, but... a metal halo. a strange circular conflagration of wires and tubing flowing with a bright cyan energy. It burst around the machine at an incredible speed, bathing the entire room in its glow. All nine men stood before the incredible machine with expressions of awe. THIS wasn't sort of reactor that they had ever seen.

"Is... Is this it?" Spy questioned, expression twisted in disbelief. Miss Pauling stepped forward, letting her shot-gun fall to her side limply.

"I... Engineer, what do you say?" The Texan cleared his throat, adjusted his hard-hat, and pulled out a small device from the pocket of his overalls. He opened up a little radar atop the PDA and moved it over the area around the monstrous device. A few high pitched beeps from it and the Engineer was left scratching his head.

"Uhh... I don't think it's a reactor... it's giving off radiation, but it looks to be coming from something else... not... not this... In fact, it ain't even givin' off its own energy signature... Whatever this is, it's powering itself and it isn't something that can be melted down. What I'm seein' here is... My God..."

"What...?"

Engineer raised the goggles from his face and glared with bright, wild eyes. "They took an old theory and actually brought it to life... They... They broke the entanglement field..." Everyone else looked at the man with confusion and lopsided faces. Before anyone could ask, he found words to explain. "The entanglement field was something people speculated to be a shuttle world between dimensions. For a long time, it was said to be a myth. But, now... Now they've not only found it... But they've broken through it... This isn't a reactor... This is a portal... A mass teleport based on our current theory of teleportation, but on a scale so large that it can leak between different planes. Could you imagine what they could do with it?" He looked directly at Miss Pauling, face a mixture of concern and excitement. Nothing he'd ever seen had ever been so amazing. As much as she hated killing his enthusiasm, Miss Pauling sighed and raised her gun.

"Yes... So we have to destroy it. You know what you have to do."

"Hold on, Miss Pauling," Spy broke in, approaching the platform before the device. "Can you not see that there is something very wrong here? A device with all the power that he has just explained in a totally unguarded room? This isn't right. Do NOT touch anything. It is a trap as sure as the dawn." Engineer stopped in front of the panel, looking down at the controls. There were a great many screens about the console monitoring a number of different functions. They were all webbed models of the machine itself with the mathematics associated displayed on the sides along with the axis co-ordinates. From there, he could see that the device was already calibrated to a location beyond the field.

"They've used it before," said the Texan. Spy turned to face him, raising a brow.

"Where did they go?" There was a slight chuckle from the man and a sudden realization broke clean across Spy's face. It sounded nothing like the man he was familiar with and was laced with the very same venom he himself used.

"The same place you are going." With those words, southern accent abandoned, the 'apparition' slammed a fist into one of the controls too fast for anyone to react in time. From the circular platform around the portal, a transparent dome enclosed it, locking the RED spy inside. The entire other team went to rush the man, but was stopped when the ground began to quiver and the halo began to erupt with bright light and a spectacular show of energy all across its center. In hardly any time at all, the portal was active and they could all only watch as the field began to rumble and pull at their trapped team-mate. Spy fell to the platform and snatched for anything to grab onto, to tether himself, but it was bare and slick. All he could do was claw fruitlessly at the floor.

"Aidez-moi! Do some-zing!" In panic, all of Spy's composure was gone, eyes flashing wildly in surprise and the most emotion he'd show in days. Miss Pauling took the gun and aimed it at the BLU Spy's head as he slowly abandoned his disguise.

"TURN IT OFF NOW!" She screamed over the quaking mechanics of the portal, her voice cracking in panic. The BLU Spy merely smiled and put up his hands.

"I am afraid I don't know how, madame." Miss Pauling's eyes shot back up to the dome around the portal and and pack to the BLU at her feet. His eyes were stone cold... Intent... Satisfied... This was what they wanted... It was the trap... And she let it happen... One of the mercs was about to be jettisoned into the unknown... and she let it happen... Spy could have very well been about to die... And she was letting it happen... She was frozen... watching the Frenchman's face as he skidded along the platform, closer and closer to the portal, face becoming more wracked with fear with each passing second... She'd never seen that expression on his face before... On any of their faces... And she wasn't doing anything... She couldn't even twitch a finger... Blink an eye.. She was helpless... and letting it happen. The ground shook more and more and the yelling of panicked voices grew as the rest of the team tried what they could to stop it... None of it worked...

And in a second... With a final glance at her with steel-blue eyes, Spy was gone... whipped up and vanished... The energy spiraled out of control, parts of the machine breaking off and flying into different directions. They smashed against the dome, against itself... The shaking grew and grew... everything threatened to give way... and it did... with a single shock-wave, the machine collapsed into itself... and all went still... Nothing of it... or spy... was left...


Every single muscle inside him ached like fire... Horrible... horrible... fire... His eyes refused to open... his lungs screamed for air but the very thing they needed chocked them. Every part of him was struggling to function... Then... in an instant, he took a deep breath... He twitched his fingers... He tried to push himself upright and fell back onto his knees. Things began to register and he took another whiff of the air... It was putrid... His nose instinctively wrinkled at it.

Finally... He opened his eyes... All he could see... was dilapidation... Destruction... and a world he didn't recognize... but somehow... it seemed familiar.