/Characters are not mine. They are the sole property of those at Blizzard Games. Used only for my hobby writing here :) /
Blackmail
"Do you know why you are here?"
The tall, strong woman emerged from the shadows, a triumphant and proud smirk in place.
"I believe I do."
...
"I told you to hold the perimeter. Why did you disobey?"
"I thought I had a clear shot. I reacted-"
"You reacted foolishly," cut off a rough voice, clearly irritated.
Reaper held one of the hand rails attached to the ceiling of their air jet, no doubt scowling beneath his mask.
Widowmaker stood a few feet away, holding another rail above her head, narrowing her eyes at the man. She'd done what she had, in that moment, decided was the best course of action. The shot had been lined up briefly until everything went to hell completely.
"If anyone is foolish, it is her," the purple haired woman droned in her thick French accent.
"Qué?!" Sombra started and then grit her teeth, narrowing her eyes. "Amiga, you better rethink where you're going with this. I got in there fast and-"
"And what?" Widowmaker interjected, raising a brow. "Decided to play games? Show off? Let our target, what is the word... escape?" she replied cooly.
Sombra's brows furrowed together, her teeth clenched and her grip on the rail tightening. "You're lucky you're face is so pretty, perra... De lo contrario, me gustaría reorganizarlo para que parezca tan desagradable como lo es en el interior..." she muttered.
"Enough!" Reaper barked, glancing between the two as the jet hit minor turbulence. "Stop acting like a pair of bickering girls. You both fucked up today, alright? From now on you don't get to fuck up, got it? You get in. Get the target and NO showing off," he pointed at Sombra as she opened her mouth to interject. "We're a god damn team. Act like it," he snapped.
Sombra shut her mouth and glared at him before her gaze darted over to their sniper who stood only with the barest of smirks tugging at the corner of her lips.
"Perra..." Sombra muttered.
...
The screens lit up as three figures stood in dim lighting in what looked to be a fairly large room. There were multitudes of computer screens behind them though the seats before them were all vacant. No doubt, left unused for some time.
"We only managed to capture two images of the group that infiltrated Volskaya Industries yesterday afternoon. They were taken from a distance by chance on two seperate cameras that happened to be pointed in that direction for a moment in time. All the other cameras had been hacked and turned off, no doubt by the third member of their group who... unfortunately we were unable to capture an image of."
"Description?" growled the male.
"Mexican. Estimated maybe late twenties or early thirties. Shaved on the left side of her head and seemed to wear some sort of flashy design on her scalp. First hand accounts from those who were present during the attack stated she had a very specific glove that she wore. No doubt it helped her to hack into our systems so easily at whim," echoed the thickly accented female voice over the speakers.
"Anyone we might know or have records on?" asked an older female voice in the room.
"Not sure..." growled the man in a lower voice. He looked back up at the screen, a glare bouncing off his visor for a moment. "These images, can you send them?"
"Of course."
Katya Volskaya moved on screen and a moment later, two grainy images came up.
"We upscaled the images as best as we could, unfortunately they were taken so far off we could only do so much. Do you recognize them?"
The tension in the room grew thick as the three individuals present studied the grainy images. One was taken at a harsher angle and showed a black mass and what appeared to be a hooded man stepping out of it near a door, holding two shotguns in hand. The other appeared to be somewhere higher up. A woman, kneeling down holding what was no doubt a rifle. A powerful one as well judging by the build they could make out in the image. The prominent features though were her choice of gear in such freezing climates, and the fact her skin was a bluish purple. Not exactly inconspicuous.
"Jack..." whispered the younger female in concern.
"I can't be sure. We may need some time to study the images more, check our logs and compare it to whatever information we have on hand still," the man replied curtly.
Katya stared through the screen at him for a moment and then nodded. "Keep me informed. I shall call you three again tomorrow. Hopefully we will have more information on both of our sides..." and then the screen went blank, leaving only a small text in place 'NO SIGNAL SOURCE'.
There was an uncomfortable silence in the room.
"Amélie..." came the voice of the older woman once more.
Jack Morrison turned his head only slightly in Ana's direction. Previously his second in command during the time Overwatch had been officially enstated.
"Ana."
"It is her. I'm positive," Ana cut him off, frowning deeply as she met his gaze. "She may have taken out one of my eyes but I would still know her if I saw her."
"She's the one who destroyed my chronal accelorator in King's Row. She's..." Lena looked offput as she thought of how to phrase her next sentence, tapping her index finger along her thigh. "She's ruthless... She's cold and uncaring..."
"The perfect agent for Talon," Ana finished for her matter-of-factly.
Jack crossed his arms and moved to shut off the screen, turning to walk down the few steps into the rest of the lab area. "Talon..." he growled, the name leaving a bad taste in his mouth. "The same group who came after Doomfist's Gauntlet..."
Lena stepped forward, concern written upon her face before her focus was directed to movement on the left as someone entered the room.
"Lena," came the gruff voice from the large gorrila-esque member of their group. "How is the new accelorator?" Winston asked.
"It's working well so far, love!" she chimed a little brighter than a moment ago.
"Good, good. Anything I should know about the meeting?" he asked, making his way over to the trio.
"It's Talon," Jack growled, earning a low gutteral noise of anger from Winston. "Though what exactly they wanted with Volskaya I can't say for certain," Jack frowned behind his visor, turning to glance back at the screens, now shut off. "Whatever they're after, we need to make sure that we're in place to prevent it again. We can't risk letting them worsen the crisis more than they already have," he said seriously.
Ana and Tracer nodded.
With the second omnic crisis reaching new tensions, they couldn't afford to let Talon create more threats to innocent people for their own secret gains. Whoever they all were exactly remained a mystery, but Jack, alias Soldier 76, had a bad feeling as he remembered the black cloaked figure in the image. He had his suspicions...
Ana watched Morrison quietly, her arms also folded infront of her while her old comrade mulled over his thoughts on what they should do given such litle information. Judging by the way he held himself then, she had no doubts he suspected the identity of the black clad figure. She remembered it like it was yesterday, the event in Egypt, tearing off his mask and revealing the disfigured face of their old partner; Gabriel Reyes. She'd never told Jack after he regained conciousness. She wasn't sure she should.
The air remained heavy with uncertaintly as the group made their way out of the lab area. If Talon was threatening Volskaya Industries now... was it perhaps time to begin fighting for the reinstatment of Overwatch once more?
...
The screen was shut off and Katya leaned back in her chair with a heavy sigh. She pinched the bridge of her nose, frowning. "They're hiding something," she finally spoke after a minute. Opening her eyes, she stood from her seat and looked across her desk at Zarya who stood at full attention.
"You believe they had something to do with this incident?" Zarya narrowed her eyes.
Katya frowned. "No... I don't think so. But I suspect they know something we don't. Whether that is who our enemy is or what they hoped to gain by coming here..." she frowned. Moving around her desk, Katya came to stand before Zarya, her expression grim. "Aleksandra Zaryanova... You are someone I believe I can trust. I want your help in making sure Volskaya Industries does not come under direct threat again, but I also want your help in finding out who these people were. What they want. Where they come from..."
Zarya looked at her and smirked. "You want me to hunt them down and crush them before they hunt you down, correct Ms. Volskaya..?"
Katya smiled the barest of amounts. "Точно..."
...
The sound of melodic piano playing filled the near empty studio, setting a intense yet beautiful atmosphere.
Amélie held her left hand delicately on a rail affixed to the far wall, while her right arm moved upwards into third position. Her feet, also beginning in third position shifted and she moved gracefully across the hardwood floors, moving naturally in time with the strange piano ballad. Her wrists remained relaxed while her head was held high, all her movements precise. She finally came to face the mirrored wall, coming to a croisé pose, her left arm forward and her right arm back while her right leg came to balance in the air.
Shifting her weight again, the purple haired woman danced liesurely along the room, her expression hard, giving away no indication what thoughts might be running through her head. Noone except her knew of the comforts this hobby of hers truly gave her.
"Dancing again, amiga?" came Sombra's voice.
Amélie pretended she couldn't hear her, moving near soundlessly along the floor, back towards the opposite wall where another railing was affixed. Grasping it with a relaxed hand, Amélie lifted her arm high and stretched her leg out with ease just as Sombra rolled her eyes, motioning with her hand and shut off the radio in the far corner of the studio room.
Amélie frowned, lifting her piercing gaze to regard her finally.
"What do you want, girl?" she asked, her French accent coming through strongly. It always did when she practiced ballet.
Sombra smirked, crossing her arms and regarded the other woman. She wore nothing but a white jumpsuit that left her legs and arms bare and her hair pulled up into a tight bun. A stark contrast to the harsh look agent Widowmaker always appeared as. The only thing that currently looked imposing on her still were the tattoos she'd gotten since working officially for Talon.
"I want you to apologize for saying I cost us the mission, amiga. Friends don't blame eachother. So Volskaya got away..." she drawled and waved her hand dismissevely. "We'll try again. No hard feelings though, right?"
Amélie rolled her eyes and turned her back on Sombra, leaning down, keeping her back straight and lifted her left leg high up into the air.
"Oof, encantadora..." the hacker averted her gaze with an eye roll.
"You are no friend of mine, Sombra..." Amélie finally responded.
"What? Why? Because we fight sometimes?" she cackled. "It's all fun and games, amiga. Good sport, you know?" she smirked, coming over to the other woman.
"Non," the sniper responded, standing straight again and turned her head to look at Sombra, her gaze piercingly cold in that moment, more so than usual. "Because I do not call liars friends."
"Qué?" Sombra made a face like she had no idea what Widowmaker was talking about. "What have I ever lied to you about, amiga?"
"You and I both know the target didn't get away when we infiltrated Volskaya Industries," Amélie said calmly. She let go of the rail and began to approach Sombra who was no longer smiling. "You lied, mon cher... You lied to me, and to Reaper," she almost purred threateningly.
"Don't know what you mean," the Mexican woman stuck to her story.
Widowmaker chuckled softly. "Foolish girl. You forget, I saw you with Volskaya herself."
"You were outside, what are you talking about?" Sombra narrowed her eyes.
Widowmaker leaned close and whispered into her ear. "Noone can hide from my sights..." She pulled back with an eerily calm expression. "Did you forget my recon visor can detect the heat signatures of my targets? Would you like to explain why your heat signature was standing across from Volskaya, making no move to harm her?"
Sombra's face had now hardened into a serious expression and it felt like a cold snake had just unfolded inside her belly. Amélie knew. She couldn't outright deny it.
"More importantly, would you like to explain to Reaper what you were doing with her? Just having a chat perhaps?" the blue skinned assassin smirked, moving past the other, walking towards the door. "Perhaps you would do well to cease this charade of being friends. You follow the missions from now on, do as you're told, and maybe I won't expose you as the liar you really are," she purred before stepping out of the room, leaving an outraged Sombra alone.
...
Hell yea chapter one is finished! Sorry it was kinda a lot of laying out the groundwork for the fic but I definitely wanted to have the tension very much there for the story right from the get go! I'll have chapter 2 up soon! :)