Hello! First, thank you for clicking on this story! I was a little uncertain about this. My first story (that's still a work in progress) was in a niche little group. It does seem like a huge jump from a niche little group to something as big as Overwatch. I thought I'd give it a go because I thought, "How hard can this be?" After checking the competition, it's gonna be pretty hard. This won't start out smooth, in fact I planned to take this chapter slow before we get into the awesome stuff, but I hope it gets better over time for all of us. With that out of the way, I hope you enjoy Compromised!
It was a seemingly ideal looking morning. A shining sun, clouds that beamed at the ground below, and a vast blue sky. All this did, however, was stir the seemingly limp body of Damien Scottsfield, a recent 21 year old living just outside the English city of Portsmouth. He wasn't really living in a 5-star penthouse, or even a 3-star hotel. Damien worked and lived with his friend Marlin at his arms dealership. With the light going through the blinds of his window, he finally decided it was time to get his up. Last night him and Marlin went out for a night on the town, enjoying the food and drinks. Thankfully, Marlin was the sober one and dragged him back home. He got out of bed, showered, and got himself dressed. Out the door and down the stairs, he met Marlin at the table, a cup of coffee at his side.
"Morning sleeping beauty, your corpse weighed a fuckin ton," he groaned as he sat down at the other end of the table, eating a protein bar.
"Well sorry about that, but it's your shift today, so you're going to have to tough it out," Damien remarked as he chugged his coffee, letting out a sigh of relief. Bored, and taking another swig of his coffee, he asked, "We got any clients today?"
Marlin perked up after his inquiry, "Oh yeah, forgot to tell ya, Mr. R is going to be at Dock 14 for the monthly shipment, you think you handle that?"
"Course I can, it's your shift today, least I could do. What time?"
"11 pm, and don't attack any of the metal scraps, your last job didn't help our front to much."
"Alright I won't. Now if you excuse me, I'm heading out," Damien got up from his seat, grabbing a black toboggan and throwing it onto his head. He then went over to the counter and began rummaging through some papers, "Hey, where'd you put my weapons?"
"Check the pantry," He replied as Damien searched the pantry before finally grabbing what looked to be a shotgun and a taser. Before he left, Marlin grabbed his shoulder. "Whoa whoa whoa, where are you going if you're bringing your materials?"
"Simple, subway station's on rush hour. Thought we could pull some extra cash this week," Damien shrugged as he continued walking. Marlin stopped him again.
"Dude, you know this is the same shit that got you locked up in the States right?"
"That was one fucking time Marlin! All because of that bitch's dog and that I had a cramp that day."
"You robbed a 2,000$ dollar necklace from a famous actress while she was in an interview! Just, don't get your ass arrested again okay?"
"Fine, but I find it weird that you're more worried about me than the deal we've got going on the underground. Later!" He walked out the backdoor, leaving Marlin and the shop behind.
The station was no more than a minute away from the shop, which helped with quick getaways sometimes. When he walked down, he was still impressed by the technology of this day in age. Everything had a glow to it that it seemed like it was high-tech and important. As he strolled down the corridor, it was the same as any other rush hour, people saying their pardons and trying to get to their platform before their train left. Since Portsmouth was, well, a port city, it was a mishmash of different backgrounds, human or omnic. Damien stopped against the wall next to a newsstand. "Damn it," he thought to himself as he eyed everyone passing by, "Are all these people all poor or something? Where's the money man?" He continued to scan the area until he decided this wasn't working and made his way to the exit.
The smell of alcohol hit Damien as soon as he walked into the bar. After the fail that the rush hour heist was, he'd just want to sit down and have some drinks. He pulled up a stool and tapped his fingers against the counter, watching the television on the wall. It was on a news station, talking about a recent illegal weapons bust. The photos sent a chill down Damien's spine, nervous that him and Marlin could be next. Back in the U.S, he bailed Damien out of jail after the necklace incident and allowed him to move to England with him. When he got there Marlin told him that his dealership was apart of a huge illegal arms deal. Marlin used to be a gunsmith and found his niche in selling illegal weaponry to everyone from murders to terrorist groups. When Damien moved in, Marlin told him that a guy who he called Mr. R gave him a butt load of money for monthly shipments of weapons. It wasn't just them, there was a whole network of arm manufactures and dealers all across England in the trade. They usually dealt with overseas clients, but the occasional in country businessman did come up. However, the network had been slowly falling apart. The bust in the picture was from a friend of Damien's, the two were drinking buddies and he was his secondary source for arms. He'd have to break the news to Marlin when he got home.
"Hey Damien, glad to see you!" It was the barkeep, George. Damien was a regular and the two men always had fun conversations ranging from drink tastes to life stories. He had a light shade of brown hair and eyes blue as blueberries. His gentle looking appearance was a stark contrast to Damien's more sharp and unfriendly appearance with unkempt short black hair and sharp brown eyes. George poured him a glass of Vodka, his usual, and handed it to him, "Here, this'll lift your spirits," he must've saw him in thought.
"Thanks," he responded, downing the glass. He set it back down as George filled it back up. He downed the other glass and got up from the stool, getting a shocked look from George.
"Two drinks? Who are you and what have you done to Damien Scottsfield?"
"Sorry George, just got something important tonight and 'fraid I can't get drunk."
"Come back soon!" He waved as Damien walked out the doors.
Marlin and Damien sat at their dining table, eating some eggs Marlin got from the store. The two mostly ate in silence, occasionally asking about each other's day. Damien tried to keep himself awake, he usually went to bed around this time on an off day, but he had to make this month's delivery, if it wasn't for Mr. R and his payments, getting by would be hard. Bored out of his mind, Damien started conversation.
"Who's the driver this time?" He asked as he leaned back in his chair. Dock 14 was a 10 minute drive, and Mr. R was a oversea client, which meant they had to use freight ships. He rode along to make sure we got the weapons on board without any detection. Problem was, he got so many weapons they had to bring a large truck filled with them. Marlin had a group called "Drivers" who got the trucks there while either him or Marlin helped load everything.
"Jamie," Marlin responded, earning Damien's hate filled groan. He set his knife down and sighed, "I don't get why you hate her so much, most guys would kill to work with her."
"Marlin, what did you hit your head on? She's the complete opposite of me and never takes the job seriously!"
"Whine all you want, we both know she's the best at what she does, better than anyone else in the group. Now go take a shower and get ready before she gets here."
Damien grumbled as he washed up and changed clothes, now dawning a t-shirt, jeans, and some gloves. He made his way back downstairs, grabbing some extra bullets for his shotgun, a walkie talkie, and his cellphone. He reminded Marlin to be listening to the his comm, just in case something happened. He waited out back for the truck, looking at the stars.
"A clear night sky," he thought to himself as he heard the familiar sound of wheels on pavement, it was time for the worst part of the day.
He climbed into the truck only to be greeted a familiar chipper voice, "So, you're taking the job instead of M huh?"
"I'm not in the mood Jamie, let's get this over with," he sighed as he buckled his seat-belt and the two were off. At least the stars provided a nice view for the trip down to the dock. It was about halfway through the ride when Damien felt his cell phone buzz. He pulled it out and answered, "Hello?"
"Damien, it's me," that hauntingly deep voice belonged to Mr. R, but why was he calling? He almost never called them, even rarely Damien specifically, "Are you at the dock warehouse yet?"
Dock 14 was a mix of both a dock and a warehouse, which made their dealing easier and more secretive. "No sir," Damien responded, "why, what happened?"
"Nothing, not yet anyway. We have suspicions that we're being followed. Try to get there in the next three minutes."
"Will do," he hung up the phone, letting out a sigh of relief and shrinking into his seat.
"Who was that?" Jamie asked as the two neared in on Dock 14. The warehouse looked pretty ominous at night, well anything did at almost 12 in the morning.
"Mr. R, says he has reason to believe someone's on his trail, we're going to have to make this quicker than usual," they nodded at each other as they backed into the warehouse. Damien got out and found the usual freight ship was here as soon as they arrived. The men on the ship helped get the cargo onto the boat securely. As the two watched their workers, Damien turned around and tapped Mr. R on his shoulder.
"What?" He growled annoyed. Mr. R was a, 'unique' man, he wore a costume of sorts to hide his identity, but it looked like he was going to a Halloween party or something. Damien flinched before he pointed to an ever growing shadow in the distance. Mr. R handed him a pair of binoculars as he focused on the shadow.
"Shit, this doesn't look good," Damien hissed as he gave Mr. R the binoculars. He could hear the same anger as it grew closer.
"Airship, I knew we were being followed," he turned around and got all of his men. They rushed to the ship, the airship was out of our sight meaning two things. One: It turned back for some reason or two: It was on top of us.
It was two. The roof busted open, revealing the scrambling workers and everyone else to the night sky. Soldiers of some kind began falling in as Damien tried to get a hold of Marlin on the comm, "Marlin, do you read me, Marlin!"
"Loud and clear, what's the problem?"
"Soldiers, weird ragtag group though," Damien was running to the truck as Jamie started it and tried to drive out. As they backed out the truck came to a crashing halt.
"The hell was that?" Jamie asked as the two turned around. A wall was now in their path, somehow. It looked to be made out of seemingly fragile ice, but it wouldn't break, no matter how hard they rammed into it. Damien cursed under his breath as they got out of the truck. There was a battlefield in front of them, a surprisingly non-gruesome one. Mr. R was trying to get out of the dock as his men tried to hold of the soldiers, barely any of them were looking at Jamie or Damien. They dashed out of the door into the streets.
"Marlin, I need you to phone Murphy, we've been compromised at Dock 14."
"Tell me how you got compromised when you get back okay?" Marlin went off the comm as the two continued running. Murphy was a friend of Marlin who owned a rental car dealership nearby. As they kept moving, Damien felt something sharp dig into his leg, causing him to curse out loud.
"Are you alright?" Jamie asked as she stopped beside Damien. He pulled something from his leg and examined it.
"I've been hit with a sleep dart of sorts. Listen, when you get to Marlin's, tell him what happened and that we gotta bust," he handed Jamie his walkie talkie and cell phone as he held himself up with his arms.
"What about you?" She knelt down and tried to get him under her arm.
"I'll be fine. If we both get caught, Marlin's fucked, understand?" She nodded as he tried to stay awake. He had a resistance with sleep medication. It only went so far however, as his eyes began to get heavy, "now go!"
As Jamie ran, he laid there, looking up at the sky. Before long, everything went black.