A rocket exploded off to the left. With a start, the BLU Spy pressed himself against a nearby crate. Nothing he'd done before could ever have prepared him for his job with BLU. Right now, he was running about a sawmill evading a mini gun wielding maniac, a rocket launching imbecile and a psychotic German. All while invisible.

Weaving past the saw blade, Spy sprinted the length of the room and tiptoed quickly up the enemy staircase. He uncloaked and crouched low on the rooftop. Careful not to slip from the roof's peak, Spy crept to the edge and looked over. So far, no one. The RED engineer must have been stationed inside. Good. He'd be a much easier target there.

From the edge, he backed up slightly and slid down to the left side of the roof. Across a small gap was the roof set perched directly above the two intelligence room entrances. In a calculated leap, he jumped from his rooftop to the next. Then, just below him, was the RED Pyro. Heart racing, he drew his knife and dove from the roof. The pyro didn't even have time to flinch as he drove the blade between its shoulders. Spy stood with a satisfied smile. Rarely did he get such a perfect opportunity.

The RED's body disappeared and Spy used his disguise kit to take its place. Giddy from his kill, Spy hurried to the Intel room to find the RED engineer reclining amongst his nest of sentries.

"Howdy Pyro," he said, "Slow day ain't it?"

Spy nodded.

A muffled alarm rang out from the engineer's pocket, "Awh hell," he said, jumping to his feet. The engineer rushed for the door, then turned back.

"Watch these for me."

Spy gave a thumbs up as he'd seen Pyro do and Engie scurried off. Spy waited several seconds before taking out his sapper and placing one on each sentry. A smug smile adorning his face, Spy removed his disguise and moved in to take the intelligence. For one reason or another, the RED engineer hadn't become very god at spy checking yet. Then again, it was their first month on the job and he didn't seem like a man well accustomed to battle.

Suddenly, a gloved hand covered his mouth and nose. He tried for a second to fight back, but a knife had already slit his throat.

The second Spy respawned, he fired off a slew of curse words in various languages.

"Something bothering you?" Medic asked in an Austrian accented German.

"That damned RED Spy!" He yelled.

"I thought you two were friends."

"We are! I mean, not at work, but socially, yes."

The Austrian slung the Kritzkreig back over his shoulder and loaded a bolt into his crossbow. He took a small whetstone from his pocket and ran it along the edge of his über saw.

"I still don't see what the problem is," he said.

Spy clenched his fists at his side, "Every time I make an attack on the intelligence. Every time I get close to completing my mission, there he is! And there I am. Dead. Look through the kill feed and you'll see what I mean."

Medic nodded and sheathed his saw, "I'll take your word for it...we should get back to work."

Spy's shoulders slumped and he followed the doctor back into battle.

That night, Spy packed his last box and officially moved from the room he shared with the engineer into his own room. It wasn't so much that he didn't enjoy the Texan's company as it was the privacy he enjoyed in his own space.

He sat on the edge of his bed. He had to find a way to get back at the RED Spy. It shouldn't have been that hard, they'd known each other for years. They'd been together through a variety of missions and tests. Hell, Françoir was the only partner he'd ever had, and while they never had personal conversations, he knew enough about the man to at least be able to enact revenge.

But that would be cruel and unprofessional. he reminded himself. One thing Françoir had been sure of was to teach Phillippe professionalism. He had to have control, be polite, be efficient and above all, be humane. For reasons Phillippe never understood, Françoir emphasized granting his victims a merciful death. Phillippe disagreed strongly, but followed his mentor's orders even when he wasn't around.

A light rap on the door broke Phillippe's concentration.

"Come in," he said, standing and fixing his tie.

A tall, dark skinned man entered the room.

"Hello," he said.

Spy moved to draw is revolver.

"There will be no need for that," the man said, "I'm with BLU. You see, we've recently observed your performance on the battle field and, well, let's just say we're not impressed. Your constant failure at the hand of the enemy spy leads us to believe that you are unfit for the position you currently hold. However, you are being given a singular chance to redeem your mistakes if you can out preform your opponent for a week."

"Really? I…"

"Get the job done by any means necessary or you won't be working for BLU much longer."

"Yes, I understand."

The man pulled a long-barreled hand gun from his coat, "Oh, and Mr. Picaro, failure will result in permanent termination. Have a good night."

At that, the man fired off his weapon and a single dart sent Spy into deep sleep.

"BS," Soldier said as Spy placed his last card in the pile.

Spy smiled slightly and gestured to the pile of cards, inviting Soldier to check for proof. Soldier snatched the top card up, glared at it and swept the pile from the table.

"You French bastard!"

Spy chuckled lightly as a flurry of cards rained down on him.

"Oh Soldier," he said, "perhaps one day you'll be able to best me in a game of cards, but, I highly doubt it."

With a laugh, Spy stood and left the room. Immediately, he walked to the library. By far the room was his favorite on base. It was quiet and well kept. Furthermore, only he, Medic, Heavy, and Engineer ever even entered the library and all they did was read or work quietly. It was a nice break form the loud and chaotic setting of the rest of the day. This time though, when Spy entered the library, there was an unfamiliar face.

"Hello," a tall, dark skinned man said.

Spy drew his revolver and aimed it at the man's head.

"Please," the man said, "there will be no need for that. I'm with RED. You see, we've recently observed your performance on the battlefield and, well, we're impressed. Not only have you helped to guarantee victory for RED, but you've also managed to best your BLU counterpart in near every match. As a reward for such excellent performance, we'd like to offer you a raise, but only if you can manage to best your counterpart this week."

Spy returned his revolver to his jacket, "And if I fail?"

"You will have a third of your pay cut."

"I understand."

"Excellent. Have a good night Mr. Dufort."

With that, the man drew a long-barreled hand gun from his coat and fired a single dart that sent Spy into a deep sleep.