As Reyes walked down the halls of the Overwatch holding facility, studying the file of the latest mission his thoughts were on his current target. The three month sting operation agent Lindholm and him set up did not go nearly as smoothly as he would have hoped. Planting Torbjorn within the Deadlock ranks was simple enough and they were able to bait them out with that shipment of pulse rifles, but they did not count on the resistance the Deadlock enforcers were able to put up against his squad of Blackwatch agents. One in particular stood out. Jesse McCree was able to put and end permanently to five of his best men, two of which were enhanced soldiers that served beside Reyes in the omnic crisis, in addition to hospitalizing nearly the rest of his men almost single handedly with nothing more than a modified six-shooter and some homemade firecrackers. Reyes, admittedly, took more satisfaction in laying that criminal out himself than he would ever tell.
Now if Jesse was like one of the rest of the enforcers that Reyes's men were able to apprehend, then this case would be as simple as locking him up with the rest of the glorified gun runners and profiteering scum they had. Jesse Mccree was not like the rest, however. Cool under pressure, tactically gifted, and worst of all, a minor. At 17, Mcree would be back out on the streets within a year on some sort of "correctional" ten step program that some pencil pusher with a bleeding heart lobbied for. 'An orphan created by war, forced to turn to the cartels for protection that the military was unable to offer' was just the kind of puff piece that could ruin years of Reyes's work.
And Jack would probably be on the receiving end of the political backlash…
So now the question was, what to do with the boy? These thoughts were running through his mind. Planning, evaluating, replanning. One option did seem valid and particularly enticing, but the execution had to be delicate. One wrong move and the media could lash out on the powerhouse that Overwatch had become. These were Reyes's thoughts as he approached the holding cell containing one bruised and restrained teenage boy who had the wrong kind of blood on his hands.
"sleep well?" he asked the boy. It had been nearly 38 hours since he had locked the gang up in Overwatch's holding facility. Interrogation was the official reason, but keeping the captives from giving away, what could later be considered, sensitive information when going through due process was an equally important factor for their captivity. "I see you are refusing to give any information. Why is that, if you don't mind me asking?" Jesse Mccree didn't respond at first. Reyes didn't expect him to. Someone who could keep a level head while the U.N.'s most powerful military was at their door wasn't going to crack from a lack of sleep and some harsh words.
Jesse did eventually raise his head to look his captor in the eye. He was smirking. "Aw shoot, maybe I'm just a tad miffed that y'all shot through my favorite hat."
"well I'm pissed y'all shot through my men." Reyes replied, not raising his voice. "you in particular, Jesse Mccree. We all know all about you and you're 'gang'. Terrorists is what you really are. Running guns and bombs to whoever's willing shill out some booze money. Who was the buyer? I know you know. Deadlock's top enforcer. Nearly twenty eight confirmed deaths at your hands over the last 5 years. Thousands if you want to count the Dogs you armed. You might not have been the one calling the shots, but who ever was knew exactly where to keep you to protect their-"
"it was that dwarf, right? The German midget with the claw?" Mccree cut in.
"…He's swedish."
"Figured that whole 'no spraken da 'nglish' was an act. I would shoot the bastard in half for ratting the boys out, if someone hadn't beaten me to it. Shame though. M' Bike ain't ever rode as good as it did after he gave it a look over." Reyes's knuckles were white beneath his gloves. But is face was calm and solid as stone. "Anyway, might as well lock me up already. My mother didn't raise no traitor."
"traitor?"
"you heard me right. When those bots were blowing Mesa to hell, you and your folk were gallivanting off in France. When Albuquerque was leveled, your men were in Scotland, getting your asses handed to you. And when Reno was trying desperately to hold it's own, y'all were in Egypt.
We armed Americans, because the 'Super Soldiers' that were supposed to be protecting American soil were away. We needed protection, and that's what deadlock had to offer. We armed whoever would pay, because we knew that it didn't matter if it were Mexico's drug lords or those mormons up in Utah, at least they'd drive bots out, protect their turf. The national guard sure as hell wasn't going to do it." Mccree's smirk was gone now. He sat their, challenging Reyes with his eyes. The decision to send the U.S.'s greatest military might abroad to try to end the war as quickly as possible was not a popular decision. The omnic threat were less present stateside, but it was still there. And this boy clearly felt the effects.
'perfect' Reyes thought to himself.
"So that's it then. You and the boys are the best defense for America? If only you and the boys were there sooner, right? Because you didn't start arms dealing till near the end. I wonder how it began? You and the boys hanging out on the weekends, having mommy making you a snack. Suddenly mommy's not there and the boys take you in. Then one of the boys asks you a favor. Keep watch, right? You don't question much, just go with it. Suddenly your keeping watch more often. Not just for the boys either. Grocery stores, cars, other gangs. You keep watch for all of them. Then it starts getting dangerous, so they give you a gun. Then one day, keeping watch, you have the use it. This happens more and more often until you and the boys suddenly are the only ones around, right? Suddenly there's no more mommies any where. How many Americans did you kill in your "crusade" to protect them, hmm?"
"shut up"
"oh, but it doesn't stop there, does it. Because the war is over now, but you still keep on keeping watch. Killing any one who gets too close. You don't even bother to think about what your "protectors" are doing with those guns. Ecuador is rotting from the inside, because you gave their blight the hardware to mow down anything that tried to stop it. You can't hardly find a street in Argentina that doesn't reek of corpses, and Los muertos is running wild in Mexico. Orphans and widows waiting up at night wondering what ever happened to their husbands and mommies. The less fortunate who do find out instead fear their own beds because of the nightmares they see. The nightmares YOU helped create. You're not just criminals. You're a poison in this country and the world." Reyes tried keeping his voice level, but allowed himself to emote when the situation called. All the while watching Mccree, looking for signs of breaking from the boy. He found them. The indignation in his eyes leaving His face fixated on his hands clenched in front of him.
"Overwatch was the world's only hope for stopping the violence. Our forces were spread thin in the states, but we needed to stop the crisis . It was only getting worse, and more children were losing their families to violence every day. Jesse Mccree, I'm not asking you to turn on the friends who protected you during some of the bloodiest years of your life, I'm asking you to help the world heal from those years. I'm asking you to help the land and people you love to be safe. Truly safe. That, or rot your life away"
The silence hung in the air for longer than Reyes anticipated. Mccree for his part was outwardly still but Reyes could see cogs in his brain turning about. Weighing Reyes's words, going back and forth in his heart. Reyes knew not to interrupt. Mccree was a child, convinced he was in the right. If his plan was going to work, Mccree needed to convince himself. Hours of preaching and screaming would only get him to close himself off, and simple teenage rebellion would be the end to his plan.
"…what do you need me to do?"
