McCree looked out at the night sky, sitting on top of a worn down two story apartment at the outskirts of Cairo, the pyramids shadowed in the background. The cowboy lights a fresh cigar in his mouth while he waited, blowing a puff of smoke. He smiled lightly and muttered. "Doc would raise hell if she saw me right now. Well that's why I could count on her to patch me later."
Thinking about the blonde, Swiss doctor reminded him of the rest of Overwatch and what's been happening recently. Winston called it right in the recall; they were a family that had been torn apart. Cynical as he can be, McCree really did hope that the peanut-loving scientist did succeed in getting the organization back together. The world needed it. Jesse McCree had no time to think about it in further detail when an explosion erupted nearby around in the Temple of Anubis.
"Looks like Winston's Intel proved correct. Those Talon bastards were making a play in these parts." He thought for a moment before murmuring to himself, "What would they want in that Temple though? Guess I better go ask them in person," and with a smirk he was off.
He readied his peacemaker pistol and made way. He can hear gunfire, rattling away. There several squads of Talon terrorists assaulting the Temple/covert laboratory in front and both flanks. Sure the ghost AI was down, the facility still contained secrets worth taking from in Talon's point of view. Little did the terrorists realize that one of HSI' finest soldiers was on duty tonight.
Pharah, her call name, was suited up in her security chief uniform and was waiting on the Talon troops. She placed her helmet a second before the blast. She cursed under her breath as it made her stumble back. She looked back to where the blast came from and held up her rocket launcher, aimed, and fired towards a group, hitting dead on the mark.
She felt a bullet ricochet off the shoulder of her suit and turned around to see another group, she then sent a barrage towards them, taking down most of them, if not all. She felt an intense pain in her left arm, turning to see a hook stuck in it and a rope attached to the end as if they were trying to catch her like a fish. She was about to bring up her other hand to an earpiece to call for backup. Before she could, another hook attached itself to her wrist, though didn't penetrate her skin, only wrapped around it and pulled her arm the opposite direction.
Her teeth grit and she growled, pulling at the rope around her wrist. She began to make progress, her biceps hardening into stone as she reached for her communicator, till two more members grabbed a hold of the rope and pulled against her. She cried out but didn't stop her struggle. She made a fist and set a concussive blast from each wrist, knocking both groups down.
She looked up, seeing around eight more squads of ten soldiers or more, and immediately pressed a finger to the ear piece, calling out, "PHARAH TO H-Q! REQUEST FOR BACKUP! Overwatch was right! They're here!"
McCree would be the first to admit that Overwatch was never perfect, but at least it was a group willing to take action if needed to keep the world safe. The carnage and gunfire at the Temple made him wish all the more that the organization was back in full force. But no it was just he and whoever happened to be there fighting Talon off. He rushed forward, hearing a woman in armor, yelling for backup and spotted squads of black clad terrorists advancing on her position.
He needed to thin out the herd, or else this fight is going be a repeat of the Alamo real soon. Taking note of a red sports car, McCree broke the side door window and entered inside, before going on to hotwire the vehicle. "Guess my old thieving tricks are of use after all."
As soon as he finished and the car roared to life, he drove the sports forward at full speed in the narrow street toward the terrorists. He ran through the first two squads who were caught off guard before the next ones scattered and fired on him. He rolled out of the car as it hit one of the temple's walls and exploded. All the while, McCree was already letting loose a volley of bullets toward the hostiles. "I got your back. Let's give it to 'em." The former outlaw said to the Egyptian in armor, unaware of her identity as the daughter of one of the most respected agents of Overwatch, who was thought to be deceased.
She watched when the car blew up against the temple and she turned to the American, a glare that was given most by her mother, Ana Amari, now set in her eyes, slightly hidden by her helmet. "You idiot! Protect to temple!"
She growled when a bullet hit her armor and aimed her fist at the assailant, sending out a concussive blast. She picked up her launcher, having to veer her mind away from the pain that shot up her arm from where the hook had formerly been.
For a moment, he was taken off guard by the glare. McCree could've swore that he seen that look somewhere before, but that thought ended when a bullet grazed his cheek, causing him to spit out his cigar. Swearing under his breath, Jesse McCree aimed and shot the offender in the neck, which collapsed sideways. He rolled out of the way to the left as a grenade was thrown where he was previous and ignited. McCree tossed a flash bang into the enemies' midst, blinding couple of them for a few seconds, while reloading.
He aimed and fired in repeated fashion, killing four more, three of them headshots. Then suddenly his right leg spiked with pain when a bullet hit it. Gritting his teeth, McCree took cover behind a pillar, firing back in support of Pharah.
She lifted the launcher up and shot out multiple times destroying a group
coming east of the temple. She noticed a slender woman with purple complexion bound into the temple and she sneered and followed after her. Pharah didn't make it through the gates before a bullet hit her helmet and tore it off. She fell to the ground, her dark hair laid in a halo around her head and she laid still for a moment. Her Eye of Horus tattoo sat beneath a determined glare. She got it believing when her mother said it was for protection she meant that her mother would always protect her. Foolish, she thought to herself. She covered the back of her head with her armored hands as more bullets fired her way. She got to her feet and looked towards McCree, "hold them back," she commanded as blood trickled from her left temple on her forehead.
Without that helmet, McCree got a good look of his ally and instantly recognized her. 'Fareeha Amari?' McCree thought in disbelieve. He hadn't seen Ana's little girl for so long, she grown up indeed, just like her Ma. He tried to speak before the Egyptian warrior left in full haste.
When inside the temple she searched the area, unaware of The Widow hanging above her and The Hacker waiting for her arrival. Pharah searched before her armor tensed and would not move. She heard a chuckle and noticed a purple glow form in lines of her bionic armor.
"That was almost too easy," the girl behind her said. She moved in front of her and her eyes twinkled as Widowmaker dropped from the ceiling.
"You're Ana's daughter," the French woman teased. "How..." she paused for a dramatic effect as if she were looking for a word, "pathetic."
Pharah growled and pulled against her armor, her muscles straining in vain. "You bastard! You're the one who killed her!"
Widowmaker paused as she heard Reaper yell through the ear piece for her to hurry up.
"Sorry, Mon chéri. We can't have loose ends," she said in a mock apology as she raised the barrel of her sniper rifle to the Egyptians head. Even in the face of death the soldier struggled against her armor as she glared at the purple women.
Back on the battlefield outside, McCree focused back on the bastards still causing trouble in front. Breathing deeply and releasing it, the cowboy threw another flash bang and blinds them. Then springing from cover, McCree locked on his deadeye upon the remaining Talon attackers, shooting furiously from the right to the left, gunning them down within seconds. Finished, Jesse with a painful limp rushed toward where Pharah went off, while putting in his rounds
"I'll be dammed before I let anything happen to Ana's girl," He muttered to himself. Within a minute, he turned the corner and saw Pharah about to be assassinated by Widowmaker and Sombra. With a quick draw, his peacemaker opened up, raining lead toward the two Talon operatives.
She closed her eyes as she heard the sniper cock back. At the surprise entrance of McCree, Sombra let go of her connection to Pharah's suit. Instantly the armored woman tackled Widowmaker to the ground, throwing her sniper rifle to the side. Widowmaker chuckled as she pinned to the ground, "At least this Amari doesn't hesitate."
"You are not worthy to speak my family name," the Egyptian lost her temper at this moment and reared a fist back to slam it into the other woman's skull. A purple lining infiltrated her armor once again and she wasn't able to move. This gave Widowmaker fair wiggle room to escape her grip and grab her rifle before she flipped out of a small opening in window. Sombra followed behind. Only when they were at a certain distance did her armor loosen to her control.
"Dammit, I'm getting sloppy," he grumbled at the fact he couldn't hit that spider themed whore without hurting Pharah. The two fugitives fled as he ran out of ammo in the pistol. With his right leg shot up, McCree couldn't really pursue the scumbags. Instead, he went over to Pharah to check on her. 'Well I'll be damned, she does look a lot like Ana,' he thought with amazement.
"Are ya alright Amari?" McCree asked, looking at the armored woman in the eye with brother-like concern.
Her body shuddered with anger, on hands and knees. She had never felt vulnerable in her armor and wanted to take it off, but knew she'd be worse off without it.
"I'm fine," she said to him in a wavering tone before standing up.
McCree could sense that Fareeha hated feeling helpless by her expression, tone, and body composure. No one who knew the Amari family well ever saw them as the weaklings, including him. He nodded in reply, as she stood then added.
"Ya don't recognize me? I must admit it's been a while Fareeha but the hat should at least be a giveaway."
Only a few people would call Pharah by her first name, like her mother and . . . Overwatch family.
The Egyptian looked to the American when he spoke and it took her a moment, having been blinded by the adrenaline of the battle.
She paused before speaking, "Jesse... You're still with Overwatch?"
"Just got back in to be honest." McCree confessed, lowering his eyes a little bit in shame. He left Overwatch, wanting no part of the in the fighting that tore it apart. A part of him still felt guilt for not being there for the others when it all came crashing down. 'I'm here now,' he reminded himself before looking back at Pharah and continued.
"Winston is getting the gang back, he called us."
"Oh... and my mother," she said looking down at a piece on her armor, the blood swelling from her arm and covering the metal around her. "Did they ever find her body?"
She wasn't sure if she wanted to know the answer. It had been months, almost a year, since the incident. If they found her body she would definitely be in a state of decay. But it would give her closure, instead of strongly assuming her death.
Unlike Pharah, Jesse didn't grow up with a family who cared for him. The Deadlock gang didn't count, despite what his former associates would claim. Only being captured and recruited by Overwatch did the cowboy got an idea of what it was when observing how Ana raised Fareeha. That reminder made his next answer all the more painful for McCree as he shook his head.
"Sorry but no we never did. Searched everywhere at her last known location but couldn't find her."
Noticing that their wounds were getting worse, he gestured. "C'mon let's these patched up."
She paused in her fidgeting with her armored arm when he answered her. She closed her eyes for a silent moment before nodding in agreement.
"I take it Angela is still in the fight . . ." she said with a small smile, remembering the chipper doctor that had always captivated her attention.
McCree chuckle as they walked, he knew the good doctor would hate that phrasing considering her non-violent beliefs.
"Yep, Doc still kicking and so is old Reinhardt. Last I heard that old glory hound was protecting folks during one of those nasty Omnic hate-fests in Europe. Lena is with Winston, making some noise already."
He smiled to himself, imaging the crazy mess the British spitfire and that gorilla scientist are doing. Overwatch was slowly but certainly coming back.
She smiled at the idea, remembering them from when she was a child. The Overwatch family was the best thing her mother ever introduced her to. There were many amazing personalities and she even remembered openly having a crush on Ziegler when she was little. Imagining her now, she blushed still feeling somewhat of an attraction.
"I do not feel like flying. The force would probably make the wound worse," she said as they walked out of the temple.
"I'll take your word for it." McCree replied while wishing they had Mercy with them right now. He grunted more some in pain, while viewing the devastation and death within the Temple. War never changes he thought to himself, before thinking how Winston would argue that it could get better. The cowboy hoped his ape friend was right about that.
Clearing his throat McCree spoke up in his deep southern drawl. "Listen Fareeha, I see you already got a job and doing fine work with it, but Winston . . . I mean we could use your help in restarting Overwatch. The world ain't gon' fix itself apparently."
Pharah looked out to the horizon when he invited her to join. She couldn't disagree, having the war between man and machine only getting worse with every talon attack. "I will consider it . . . " she said in a monotone voice, unlike when she was a child and dreamed of being an Overwatch agent . . . just like her mother.
Nodding in acknowledgment, McCree handed Pharah a new yet small communicator. "If you do say yes, call us through this. It's one of Winston's new designs, encoded and everything."
After cleaning their wounds with a first aid kit, close by, Jesse McCree tipped his hat and smiled, thinking how much the little girl he once knew had grown up.
"Happy trails, Amari."
Soon as that was said, Pharah's fellow Helix guards swarmed in to secure the area. By the time they did, however, McCree had vanished. He was still classified as an outlaw by the world so he won't waste time getting arrested and putting Pharah in bad spot because of association with him. He snuck a parting gift for her. An old, black and white, photo for their old Overwatch family; Gabriel, standing off to the left and Jesse standing off the right, Reinhardt's arms surrounding them all. Angela leaned against Torbjörn with a wide smile. Then her eyes feel on her mother, standing next to Jack. Ana had her hands resting on the younger Fareeha's shoulders.
She felt herself close to tears and so she placed her helmet back on, to hide her emotional state from her comrades. Her shuddering was too apparent to hide, though. The Egyptian, before she could be asked about her state, tore out the Helix communicator and placed in the Overwatch earpiece, pressing the button.
"Pharah to . . . This is Fareeha Amari, checking in," her tone had gained back her strength and pride.
"Fareeha," answered Winston in a shocked tone. He had sent Jesse in to recruit her but was not sure it would have worked so well and so quickly. "Angela, will be ecstatic to see you."
Fareeha felt her cheeks warm and she fought every urge to smile as tears fell freely down her cheeks.