They were pinned down, all five of them. Jack cursed to himself. It was just one silly Talon soldier they had missed that had brought down the entire facility's security detail on to the small group of infiltrators. He looked to his left and saw Lucio and Tracer pinned down behind an expensive looking computer console. To his right Mercy and McCree had only a couple of support beams giving them cover. Jack himself was hunkered behind a concrete barrier as the occasional suppressing fire whizzed through the air over his head. He cursed again, this time audibly through his distinctive mask.
Overwatch hadn't been together again for quite even a year, and they were already in another one of their trademark "tight spots" that he recalled as one of the reasons he had been so reluctant to answer Winston's recall. He wasn't reluctant because he feared for himself; after all he had been covertly performing his own mercenary work behind a secret identity for years, but because of his duty to his teammates. Now his regret was coming to the forefront of his mind as his comrades were under heavy fire because of his mistake.
"What's the plan, commander?" McCree's distinctive Southern drawl came over Morrison's small ear bud communicator.
"I'm still working that out," Jack replied gruffly.
He could hear the mix of Talon omnics and agents as their plodding footsteps grew nearer and the gunshots more distinct. The terrorists knew exactly where they were and they were taking their time setting up strategically. He peeked his head over his cover very briefly to scan their surroundings and then pulled it back down as a hail of bullets chipped away at the top of his cover. There were at least a hundred talon agents and omnics in that direction making their way carefully to the group's position, and the only clear exit from where they sat was through a thin corridor about fifty yards in front of them. If he recalled correctly from the building blueprints from their recon team, the hallway led to a server room. They would have to rely on ventilation ducts from there to try to make their way out of the facility. He hated the thought of relying on thin ductwork for their escape, but he saw no other way.
"Jesse," he said over their comms, "how many flash grenades do you have?"
"Three."
"Tracer, do you still have your pulse bomb?"
"Yes, sir," she replied.
"Okay, we're going to have to create as big a distraction as possible and make our way to the corridor to our southeast," he said pointing toward the thin hallway. "Lucio, when I give the mark, you drop the beat. McCree and Tracer you throw your bombs into the crowd, and we're all going to make our way as quickly as possible. You'll get there first, Tracer, so scout ahead for us and warn us regarding any obstacles."
"Copy," said everyone over the comms as Morrison prepared for the ideal opportunity to make their break.
"MARK!" he yelled, which set everyone into motion. Jesse chucked two of his flashbangs over his barrier and into the crowd of approaching Talon agents as Lucio slammed his sonic amplifier into the ground, causing a blast of sound that shook the ground to reverberate into the crowd. Tracer launched her pulse bomb as far into the middle of the group. This happened extremely quickly and had a devastating effect on the approaching mob, disorienting and damaging many of them enough for the group to have a shot at sprinting to the narrow corridor in front of them.
Tracer blinked into the corridor ahead of the group, quickly leaving the sight of Morrison and the others. Jack listened for her voice intently, hoping for an all clear, or at least a warning that they were running into more trouble. But all that he heard was eerie silence from her end. That alone was warning enough, he supposed, given she would have immediately given an all clear if it in fact was.
He glanced over to McCree, who gave him a knowing nod, and then to Lucio and Mercy and gave a sign to be ready for trouble. They burst into the thin hallway, which took a sharp left about 25 feet from its entrance. Jack pushed his back up against the corner before quickly popping out from cover to see if there was anyone waiting. It looked clear so he gave a 'clear' signal to the others and the slowly rounded the corner and continued town the tight corridor. Dim red and green lights lit the narrow corridor, and it was only wide enough for them to move single file through. Jack led the way with McCree bringing up the rear and keeping an eye toward the way they had entered. The soldiers hadn't bothered to begin following them in yet. They will soon enough, though, Morrison thought to himself. The need to hurry and find their suddenly silent compatriot was more than apparent.
The corridor finally took a sharp right and he knew that would lead into the large server room. There was no other place for Tracer to have gone, so the team slowly rounded the corner and began advancing on the room. Morrison raised his rifle and quickly moved into the room, scanning to his left as his three compatriots cleared other corners of their immediate entry. Except for the hum of server cooling fans and the air conditioning system filling the room, it was quiet. The grey hairs on Morrison's head blew slightly as he turned it to scan the room slowly using his attack visor.
Suddenly a blinding spotlight filled the room, causing the group to shield their eyes as they became accustomed to the sudden blinding light. A deep gravely laugh filled the room as Jack's eyes finally adjusted. At the far end of the room, about 25 feet in front of them, and directly in front of the duct access they needed to reach to escape, stood Tracer. She had what looked like a purple tendrils attached to the rear of her chronal accelerator that came from one of three shadowy figures standing behind her, and her hands were bound behind her back, being held by a masked figure who began taunting Jack.
"Looks like you messed up again, Jack," the masked figure said. He was clad in all black leather, the only color being the shotgun shells that adorned a pair of ammo belts, one around his waist, the other draped over his shoulder, and the terrifying white mask that resembled a skull. He leveled one of his short shotguns at Jack's face, while the other was pushed into the back of his hostage.
The three figures all stepped forward into the light, revealing the other two to the group. The two women on either side of the darkly clad figure also each had weapons leveled at the group. The Hispanic woman clad in purple with the distinctive hairdo and holding an SMG looked to be chewing a stick of gum. The purple tendrils extended from her fingertips. Jack didn't know her, but the blue woman on the other side of the darkly clad figure he did know, and she was as serious as Jack ever seen her.
"Reyes, let the girl go. You have no beef with her," Jack said carefully, trying to measure the intent of his former friend.
Reyes pushed Tracer to the ground, still holder her at gunpoint, and hissed back at Jack, "Don't you call me that, Morrison. I am Reaper now, and only Reaper."
Jack raised his hands slightly to show he meant no harm, still trying to find a diplomatic way to free his colleague before they were able to affect some sort of escape.
"I meant no harm. Please, it's me you want. There's no reason to involve any of these others."
"We want Overwatch, Jack," Reaper replied coolly. "We can take you all alive and relatively unharmed…for now. Surrender."
Jack knew that if they surrendered, it would only temporarily suspend the torture and death they would face if Talon were able to take them in. That wasn't an option. He glanced over at McCree, who he could tell was seething at his former mentor, and saw him fingering a flashbang under his poncho. He knew what McCree was planning, but it would be left to Jack solely to rescue Tracer and take down the malevolent trio due to his attack visor providing immunity from the blinding flash and deafening blast the grenade would produce. McCree looked at him for confirmation of the move, and Jack gave it.
From then, things seemed to move in slow motion to Jack. McCree hurled the flashbang right into the face of his former mentor and it went off, causing everyone in the room to cringe due to the blinding, deafening explosion. Jack had already begun sprinting over to Tracer in order to wrest her from the grip of the Talon operatives before any harm could come to her. But as fast as his actions were, he wasn't able to stop Reaper from getting a round off. His shot was diverted, but it still ripped through the flesh of Tracer's shoulder. Time still seemingly moving slowly, Jack saw the fear and pain spread across the still disoriented young woman's face as the blast separated her arm from her body. Morrison screamed in terror and rage as he finally reached the trio, smashing the butt of his rifle into the face of his former friend, sending him flying backward. He next flung his fist into the face of the blue woman, which sent her to the floor. He finally leveled his pulse rifle at the arm of the woman who was restraining Tracer with her purple tendrils and fired. The blast hit her hand, causing a small explosion, which knocked her back, separating the purple tendrils from her hand. Jack grabbed Tracer, who had passed out from pain and blood loss fairly quickly, and started trying to stem the bleeding from her serious wound.
The tendrils, still attached to her chronal accelerator, suddenly began to glow and pulsate and emanate an extremely loud hum. Then, the chronal accelerator followed suit. Jack grabbed at them and began trying to pull them out, but the lights only grew more intense until they overloaded his tactical visor. He covered his eyes and then realized he was beginning to lose consciousness. The last thing he remembered before passing out was the intense pain that emanated through his body. Then it was dark.