Bad Blood
The Sailor, Soldier, Hunter, Doctor, Scientist and Student
After the nukes went off, the highways stretching across the Australian outback had gone largely abandoned. Black asphalt ran the length of the wasteland from one end of the territory to another. The yellow lines had begun to fade, the smooth surface had cracked, and sand had begun to scatter across the road. Yet, for as much as it needed maintenance, the road was still functional. A car sped down the highway, its city tires and adherence to the long since ignored posted speed signs a strange difference from the regular passing Junkers speeding by at whatever speed they felt at the moment in an armored roadsters tied together with the salvaged remains from the leftovers of society.
The airport rental drove on towards the distant mirage where the road met the sky. The driver of said vehicle, after realizing that there was no need to keep an eye out for fellow motorists, found herself looking out at the scenery surrounding the road. It was strange, the vast open expanse of the Outback, the large hills which had to have been miles away, looked remarkably close in the empty space between them. Where she was from, the highways were surrounded by forests that would either stop the passenger's view at the treeline or gave a proper scale to the great distance between them. She almost wanted to get out and take a picture of the stretching orange dirt and cacti spotted landscape, but she wasn't here to sightsee.
The car traced down the road for many miles before jetting off at an exit, following that road for miles until it itself turned to gravel. The car finally stopped when it approached a lonesome shack on the side of the road and rolled to a stop.
It was a single story plantation house, its paint had long sense been blown away, revealing pressure treated wood that had turned black and gray from the exposure to radiation from the sun's burn or nuclear fallout. The shutters on the windows had fallen off and were half buried in the dirt, and all the windows had been broken.
The driver set the vehicle in park and shut off the engine. The door was opened and the driver swung her legs out and stood. Doctor Angela Ziegler MD, stood beside her vehicle and looked into the house. It looked abandoned, but she knew this was the right spot, she had followed the directions as provided, and four other vehicles foreign to the Austrailian wasteland had been parked in front of the house as well.
She took a deep breath, breathing in the strangely pure air. She had been in enough labs to tell the scent of recycled and sterilized air. It was odd, especially for being outside in such a large open space, but what was even more jarring was how hot it was outside. Even a few seconds out of her air conditioned rental made her regret wearing jeans and a blouse. She walked to the trunk of the car and popped it open, grabbing a large hip high attaché case and pulled it from the back and set it on its wheels. She closed the trunk and looked out at the horizon, seeing a large white complex standing out from the rest of the sun baked barren outback. It looked to be so close that she could see the massive input and output fans, sucking in and blowing out air, but like with the rest of the of the scenery, it was so large yet far away that it lacked anything to compare with.
She wiped her forehead, already sweating, and pulled her blonde bangs aside. She extended the case's carry along handle and pulled it through the sand towards the house. She dragged it up the steps onto the porch and approached the front door, giving the charred wood a gentle knock, only to have it open.
She entered the house and closed the door behind her.
Although it was free of the sun, the inside of the old house was more akin to stepping into an oven. She could hear voices inside, so she followed to where they were coming from.
She entered what she assumed at one point was the living room. The carpet was spongey and full of mold, and on the opposite side of the room was a dusty stone fireplace. Couches and armchairs were placed around the mantle, and sitting in the room were the owners of the vehicles outside. Although the furniture was intended to be placed around the fireplace, now it was being used to view a whiteboard and a projected image on its surface.
A man wearing black tactical pants and a bulletproof vest with a deep scar across his face was speaking before the image, and upon seeing the most recent guest arrive, had his expression lighten up. "Doctor, glad to see you've made it. I was afraid you weren't going to make it in time."
"Sorry," she replied, "my luggage was lost at the airport. I was afraid I would have to come empty handed."
Jack Morrison, former commander of Overwatch and reported as having been deceased, shook his head. "Don't worry, I'm just glad we have a full strike team. You should get ready though, time's running short."
The doctor scanned across the room, looking at all of the other team members present.
Sitting on the ground to the furthest from her was a large blue Gorilla. Doctor Winston, the ape from the moon, waved at his old colleague as a smile stretched across his pearly white fangs. His custom bodysuit had already been equipped with its jump jet rocket boosters and his weapon of choice, the Tesla canon, was within arm's reach. He was here on a scientific venture to study the recovering flora and fauna of the radioactive outback.
Sitting on a folding chair nearby was a young freckled brunette. Lena Oxton was holding her trademark single lens goggles in her hand and was rubbing her eyes. She was wearing her normal attire of sweat resistant athletic wear, and as always, her chronal accelerator was fastened to her chest and back. It would have been easy to assume that Dr. Winston had taken their rendezvous to do a checkup on his invention, for it would have been awfully inconvenient for Lena to experience a malfunction and become a singularity in time during tonight's events. She looked to have been nodding off during the briefing and the doctor's entrance had excited her back to life. Apparently her reason for being here was claiming to be a student studying abroad in the ex-English colony.
Sitting on a coach right before the projector was a young Middle Eastern woman, although the youngest present, one would not have assumed that to be while she wore her Raptora Suit. The Helix Securities battle Armor was in standby mode, rocket jets folded on her back and all combat systems besides augmented strength offline. Captain Fareeha Amari nodded at the new arrival as she gave her man-operated Antipersonnel rocket launcher one final 12-point inspection. The Soldier volunteered to take the experimental armor out on an expedition to see the extent that could function if taken to the limits and as she had discussed with the armorer, there was no better place to do so than the Australian outback.
Seated nearby but far enough away to not rouse suspicion was a wraith of a figure. They wore an old set of body armor with multiple layers of overlapping Kevlar plates, a few generations old but functioned the same. They wore a black hood and coat over the armor and bandoliers with accents of dark blue and purple to it. Completing the protection of their identity was a modern military helmet with a one way visor covering the face entirely. A blue triangle glowed against the glass of their Heads Up Display, causing the uninformed to wonder if the individual beneath it all was human or omnic, but that didn't matter, the only thing that did was their reputation that when a bounty came up on your head, The Shrike always got their quarry. The Shrike looked at the Doctor and nodded. Angela was about to greet them but stopped, she didn't want to raise any suspicions to the uninformed in the room. Even if she wasn't one of the few people in the world who knew of the mysterious Bounty hunter's identity. The Pneumatic biotic Rifle was far too much of a coincidence to not be in the possession of anyone besides the late Captain Ana Amari of Overwatch.
Jack Morrison, the thought-to-be deceased Ex- Commander of Overwatch, didn't require much introduction, just that a recent career change from outlaw vigilante to cargo ship sailor had been his means of travel to the continent.
And then there was Angela, the sixth man of their fire team. Doctor Extraordinaire, a brilliant prodigy who had spent more time under fire than under a surgical lamp. It was almost like a reunion of sorts, all Overwatch alums joining together to moonlight for old times sake.
Angela looked to the side and saw an empty room off from the meeting and nodded towards it. "I'll go get ready then." She said, wheeling the suit case with her into the room to get some privacy but still be within earshot.
Morison began once more, "I'm glad to see everyone is here now. An informant from the inside has tipped us off that Talon is planning to launch a raid on the Ishtar Collective's nearby cleansing facility. Their goal is to steal the refined collection rods stored within the underground storage unit beneath the complex. The Facility has been collecting and nullifying the radiation ever since the bombs dropped back in the Omnic crisis, and being that we're all not wearing hazmat suits right now, it isn't hard to guess that they've been busy at work.
The Commander went over recon photos of the facilities, where the guard positions were, towers, fields of view, and the different buildings in the "Even if they manage to extract a single core, it could be as powerful as a two megaton payload. So we can't let that happen. Make no mistake, though. We may be the good guys, but were just more targets to the security measures at the facility. Just remember, Talon is the threat here, avoid Ishtar's security teams if you can, but remember that if it comes down to it, its either going to be you or them. Any questions?"
"Yes," came a voice from the back of the room. Jack looked away from the projector screen and towards the source of the commotion.
Although she had entered the side room as Angela Ziegler, Mercy was the one who had returned to the living room. Her suitcase now gutted and empty, the Doctor stood with her blonde hair up in a high ponytail. Carbon nanofiber nylon leggings and knee high metal boots had replaced her jeans. A flexible white breastplate covered her torso to her neck while a black null-layer skinsuit covered any other exposed skin below her jawline. Last but not least, a pair of metallic wings unfolded from her back, stretching out to ignite large golden feathers made of hard light material. She walked up to the couch with her six foot long Caduceus Staff in hand, using the long healing utensil as a walking stick as she approached. She continued, "How do we know that they won't attempt an underground insertion? Wouldn't that be more discreet?"
"Good question. They have to do a ground insertion because attempting to dig into the facility is too easy to detect. Seismic equipment was installed to monitor potential earthquakes that could compromise the foundation or detect if the junkers tried to dig their way in. If talon tried to dig in it would take days of work and they would be detected before they even got close to the vault. Anything else?" The room was silent, the ex-commander took the cue and nodded. "Good, now all we have to do is wait."
Meeting adjourned, the group separated to do their own preparations for the assault.
Mercy found herself preparing her staff for what was anticipated to be a long night of use, she checked the nanobiotic mister and dispersion pylons, test firing it and checking to see that the pistons and containers were spinning easily and that a yellow healing gas was flowing freely on command.
Satisfied, she set the staff aside and pulled out a makeup mobile and was giving herself a proper checkup. A near decade of combat medicine had not deterred her from looking her best during a crisis, and being shot at while possessing the authority of the United Nations was no different than being shot at while working off the books.
She popped the compact container open just in time to see fareeha approaching from behind.
The Helix Securities officer chuckled at the sight and said, "taking care of what matters most, right?"
Angela turned and smiled, "of course. Do you need a spot up?"
Fareeha shook her head and gave a curt, "No." After a moment of silence, Fareeha continued, "I thought I'd let you know that nobody has broken your pull up record yet."
"Oh… really?" said Angela, trying to cover up her arms to hide her upper body strength. Half a lifetime of lugging around medical equipment around a combat zone enriched her strength of mind and body. Sadly though, it hadn't taught her how to shoot with her eyes open. Luckily that wasn't anything that a few weeks at a Helix Securities CQB flash-course couldn't fix. "Well, I'm sure someone will, eventually."
"Sure they will," Fareeha laughed, looking over the mechanical wings and healing staff beside Angela. "Just remember your training and we'll get through this just fine."
Angela put on a brave face, but could not smother the muscle memories of being hit in the face repeatedly with a foam cushioned battle baton or how much her knuckles hurt after she threw a punch for the first time in her life. Ready or not, if it came down to it she would have to be ready to fight for her life, not for her own sake, but to ensure that the people she cared for-the Commanders who changed her life, the colleague she worked with, the recruit who fought for her, and the child she helped raise all those years ago- were all going to walk away safely by the end of the night.
Angela was about to continue the conversation when a shout was heard throughout the abandoned house, "Look alive everyone." Morrison reentered the room, mask covering his face and concealing his identity, "It's time to roll out."