ORNITHOLOGY, PART ONE: CRUEL INTENTIONS
Sombra knew little torment like the boredom of Talon's mission planning sessions. If she had any input on the objectives of said missions, it might be a different story. As it was, she, Reaper, and Widowmaker only had input on the execution of predetermined objectives presented by a representative from Talon's strategic committee.
The Latin girl fought a yawn as she did her best to pretend to pay attention, 'Get to the point, idiota…'
The powerpoint flickered. Sombra slumped further into her chair. She, her two counterparts, and the representative were the only ones in the darkened conference room deep within the confines of one of Talon's secure facilities. With only four of them there, it seemed all too empty. The long table they sat at comfortably sat fifteen people, leaving the three ample room to distance themselves from each other. Reaper, clad in his ghoulish combat attire and white skull mask, had quickly claimed the head of the table despite his equal rank to the other two agents in the room. Widowmaker, who wore her scandalous skin-tight bodysuit, seemed keen to distance herself from the man, claiming a seat three down from the head of the table to the man's left. Each of them were illuminated in the baleful glow of the large screen at the foot of the table, where the representative stood.
The representative, whose name Sombra had easily forgotten, was far more formally dressed. He was a younger man of Asian descent, likely less than a decade Sombra's senior. His suit was finely tailored, fitting like a glove in all the right places. It spoke not only to his position within the organization, but the depths of Talon's pockets. Sombra fought a sneer. He was dressed more for a business meeting than planning a military assault.
'But that is business for these people, isn't it?', she silently mused, shifting her weight onto her side as she fought to make herself comfortable in the leather chair she'd claimed.
Where the others were dressed for business, Sombra was far more appropriately dressed for a slumber party. She was as stretched out and reclined as was possible in the executive chairs surrounding the conference table, feet propped up on the next chair down. Instead of her field attire, she had opted for something more comfortable- grey cotton sweatpants and a baggy, neon purple t-shirt, specifically. The only thing business-like about her were the gloves she perpetually wore, synced to the computers implanted into her skull that softly glowed in the darkness of the room.
The representative's voice, which Sombra had allowed to become nothing more than white noise in the back of her mind, paused dramatically. With a mental sigh, she shifted her attention back to the presenter, who continued, "...keeping that in mind, Talon has decided to move forward with the acquisition of the Anubis AI blueprints from their secure holding facility."
"You must be joking."
Reaper's guttural response rumbled through the room like distant thunder. Sombra twisted her head to look back towards the deathless man, a crooked grin pulling at the corners of her mouth as he continued. Every word that came from his lips was filled with vitriol and spite, "The facility is a fortress. EMP hardened systems, redundant laser guided missile defense grids, long range anti-air cannons, automated point defenses, Bastion unit calibre defense drones, and a full complement of HSI soldiers. We'd need half of Talon's agent roster, a full cadre of gunships, and a mile-wide communication lockdown to even consider this operation."
The representative, to his credit, was unimpressed by Reaper's cold aggression. He clasped his hands behind his back, unwavering in front of the former Blackwatch agent's malice, "Talon has deemed the acquisition of the Anubis AI blueprints an absolute necessity. If that is what's necessary, then that is what you will be provided."
Reaper uncrossed his arms, sinking back into his chair and gripping both arm rests. Sombra smiled at the sight- despite the mask hiding his ruined form, Reaper was easily one of the more expressive people she'd met in her life. Whether or not he realized that was a mystery for the ages. His voice was softer, but still filled with conceit for the presenter, "It's still not enough."
Before the representative could offer a reply, Widowmaker cut in. Like Reaper, she did little to disguise her distaste for the man in front of them. Her lip twisted into a sneer as she turned in her chair to face the speaker, crossing one elegant, endless, leg over the other, "Their defensive grid is infallible, nigaud. Their anti-air cannons would detect and annihilé any gunship that drew near. The missile defenses protect the cannons, and the point guns and drones protect the missile defenses. Talon's ground teams would be torn to pieces by defenses of that calibre."
She tilted her head ever so subtly towards Reaper. He was sitting in stoic silence, cold gaze locked on the representative's as Widowmaker continued, "...and even la Grande Faucheuse cannot storm such a facility on his own."
Sombra rolled her eyes, incredulity mixing with smug self satisfaction as the discussion jogged her memory. She'd learned about the Anubis Facility before when investigating a certain member of the revived Overwatch. She pulled a small view screen out of thin air with a flick of her wrist and began to type away as the others bickered.
The representative, while clearly not a native French speaker, could piece together that a nigaud was not something one wanted to be called. His brow furrowed as his lips turned into a deep-seated frown, voice taking a hostile edge, "Talon does not have us hold these meetings for you to discuss why things can't be done, agents. If you can't-"
"Boop!"
In an instant, the dry presentation the representative was showing was replaced by utter carnage. Gone was the overhead photo of the Anubis Facility. In its place, a cacophony of heavy guns, screams, and explosions was playing out onscreen from the point of view of a soldier's Heads-Up Display. The representative turned to her, outraged, while Widowmaker scowled, face wrinkled in distaste at the deafening noise. As the man opened his mouth to speak, Sombra gave him a knowing smile, lifting her finger to her lips in a shushing motion before pointing to the screen.
In seconds, it became clear the video had been taken within the Anubis Facility. The massive structure was unmistakable in its design. The carnage being wrought spoke to the potency of its defenses. The soldier's head whipped back and forth with nauseating speed as he attempted to keep track of his surroundings, screaming orders to those around him in a vain attempt to reassert control of the battle. It was clear that his squad was outgunned, bullets raining down at them from a dozen positions, as the telltale sound of Bastion fire filled the air. The soldier's lines were crumbling, his men were breaking, and it was obvious he was doomed.
Sombra glanced back over her shoulder, snickering at the sight of Reaper glaring death into the back of the representative's head. She turned back to watch the best part of the video, smile growing wider into pure glee at her genius.
A barrage of rockets, seemingly from nowhere, filled the air just as the screech of jet engines arrived. Explosions flooded the screen, and in an instant, the sound of Bastion guns had fallen silent. The camera whipped to the source, cheering in glee as six figures in blue flight suits roared overhead, sowing carnage through the Anubis Facility's defenses like avenging angels from myth. In that instant, the screen froze, centered on the Raptora squad.
Barely able to contain her self satisfaction, Sombra spun in her chair to face the rest of the room, stopping herself by crossing her legs on top of the conference table, "The Anubis Facility has been breached before, estupidos."
The silence that greeted her only fueled her ego. The hacker cocked her head, dismissing the hologram in front of her with a waggle of her fingers before crossing her arms over her chest. Reaper was the first to move, leaning forward to place both elbows on the table and link his fingers under his nose. Sombra knew he'd never seen the video before- almost nobody had. The actual details of the events that transpired in the original Anubis Facility incident were one of Helix Security International's most well kept secrets.
The masked man tilted his head forward almost imperceptibly, processing the information Sombra had shared before speaking, "...HSI's Raptora units were too small for the anti-air cannons to pick up. Able to outmaneuver the point defence emplacements. That's how they took the facility."
Widowmaker turned to him, leaning back ever so gently in a motion that emphasized every svelte curve of her lithe form. Sombra nearly gagged. It was as if every action the woman performed was designed to ooze pure sexuality. Not like her Halcón. The sniper, unaware or uncaring of Sombra's distaste, followed up on Reaper's conclusion, "Oui, perfect for this kind of operation. However…"
She turned to Sombra, arching a condescending eyebrow, "You do know that we do not have Raptora suits, oui? If we stole them from HSI, it would take months to train pilots for the operation. Perhaps years. Not to mention the alert losing those suits would cause. Building our own would take even longer."
Sombra's heart pulsed. She'd never dreamed that the pieces would fall together so neatly- not in her wildest dreams. She fought the surge of excitement that crawled up her spine, clenching a fist beneath the table to try to calm herself. Vibrating with energy, she kicked off the table and spun in her chair, mentally ordering another holographic screen to life. She giggled as her fingers flew over the display, matching Widowmakers condescending tone with her own, "Dear Araña, we don't need to do any of those things!"
She slammed her feet down onto the floor, halting her motion as two new pictures appeared side-by-side on the screen. One was clearly taken from the HUD of a soldier in the Anubis Facility incident, depicting a dark skinned woman with raven hair in an older model Raptora suit, kneeling over the form of a fallen comrade. The other was much newer, taken from the HUD of one of Talon's own soldiers. It showed the same woman in sleek, custom Raptora armor, hovering in the air like heroism personified as she unleashed a wrist rocket at entrenched Talon soldiers.
The young hacker wet her lips, a pang of desire flashing in her heart at the sight of the powerful woman. This was what Widowmaker could never be. Strong and brave, ready to face any danger with unyielding defiance. Loyal and dutiful to an adorably naive fault. Sombra swallowed a lump in her throat, eyes never leaving the screen, "We have everything we need right in front of us."
Widowmaker scoffed from behind her, "The Amari girl? Surely you can't be serious."
Sombra's chest tightened in outrage. She whipped her head to the side, glaring daggers at Widowmaker. Acid coated her every word as she lashed out, "Que dijiste? You have a better idea, Amélie?"
The blue sniper was on her feet in an instant. The executive chair she sat in fell backwards with the force of her movement, clattering to the floor. Widowmaker's perfect features distorted in rage, spittle spraying from her lips as she leaned forward over the table with the apparent intent to kill Widowmaker with her gaze alone, "Amélie is dead, salope!"
"SIT DOWN!"
Reaper's voice rumbled like thunder, freezing the sniper in place. Sombra the woman's impotence with glee, relishing every second she quivered in anger. Silence reigned in the conference room for a short eternity, all eyes on Widowmaker and Sombra. After a moment longer, Widowmaker relented. Her features fell back into statuesque beauty as she turned away from Sombra and righted her seat before settling into it. The former Blackwatch agent continued, "...a Raptora unit is our best option for punching a hole in the facility's anti-air defense grid. Once a pocket has been cleared, our gunships will be able to bypass the point defenses and launch a full assault on the heart of the facility with impunity. As far as acquiring a Raptora suit and pilot goes, taking Amari is our best option. Even if she weren't..."
His voice trembled in what Sombra could only assume was sadistic mirth, "...what better way to hurt Overwatch than to take their next generation?"
The representative smiled, seemingly content with the resolution. Widowmaker shrugged in acceptance. Sombra could hardly contain her excitement. She turned back to the main screen, eyes locking with Pharah's, 'Soon, mi halcón, I'll give you someone worth all the loyalty you can offer. You'll be mine. All mine.'