Reyes blew on the half-silvered mirror, allowing his breath to steam on the glass, then rubbed out a circle through the grime. On a base populated by soldiers and operatives, plus the occasional ex-criminal, there really weren't any funds set aside for a maintenance crew, which left the agents to perform the chores. It must have slipped his mind to assign someone to window cleaning duty, though he'd hoped that someone would have taken note of the need and done the job themselves. Honestly, his team had less maturity than the two kids sitting snug as bugs in the designated interrogation room.
It was during a joint raid on the Shimada-gumi and Deadlock that one of their ground agents had discovered a young boy locked in a cage and let him out. At first, the kid had stared blankly ahead, as though waiting for the other shoe to drop. Eventually, they'd had to coax him out with food rations, a feat made more difficult when the long-haired boy didn't seem to have the firmest grasp on English quite yet. Ana had brought him back to base wrapped in blankets, both to keep the perpetually shivering child warm and to hide the scaly pointed ears atop his head that swiveled to catch each new sound. Though his robes were old and worn, the boy held his head high, carrying a dignity Reyes associated with portraits of ancient rulers, emperors and kings, not a twelve-year-old child.
Not long after, Reyes caught sight of the disheveled-looking boy of around the same age they'd taken in along with the rest of the Deadlock gang. Word was he'd put up the most fight of the lot of them, leaving scratches on some of his best agents with hard, yellowed nails that curled like coyote claws. From the way he kept casting side-glances at the Shimada kid, it was obvious he was fascinated, both by being in close proximity to someone near his own age and due to the, uh, alterations his so-called family had grafted to his body.
With Deadlock detained and the Shimada family out of the question - Reyes would adopt the dragon kid himself before he let a single one of those monsters lay a hand on him again - there was no place for either the gangster's tagalong or the yakuza's discarded heir to go. They were outcasts, even more so due to the experiments performed on them to craft the boys into weapons.
Reyes had ordered their shackles removed, hands and feet, to hopefully garner some goodwill. He doubted it'd get him far, but it was a start. No matter how much Rodriguez, sporting three slashes through his stubble, scowled and grumbled, he couldn't bring himself to look into that interrogation room and see criminals.
Just a couple of kids served a bad hand.
"You sure about this, Reyes?" Morrison sidled up beside him, that furrow between his brow that always meant he was worrying about something present. Reyes rarely saw him without it these days.
He clapped a hand on Morrison's shoulder, a tight smile on his face. "As sure as I've ever been about anything, Jack." And pushed off to head towards the door, the offer he was about to make already drafted in his head.
When he stepped inside, the door slamming shut beyond him, the reaction was immediate. The Deadlock boy's eyes narrowed into slits of bright gold, while the Shimada brat sunk his claws into the table and dragged, curls of plastic spiraling up from under his hardened nails. While Reyes pulled out a chair, getting comfortable for the long haul while enduring an onslaught of Spanish curses that could curdle milk and Japanese demands peppered with English, he made a big show of being unarmed by slowly withdrawing from his pockets a flask and a pair of mugs. Curiosity quieted them as he emptied the flask into the pale mugs, took a sip of each, then pushed it across the table for each of them to catch.
Shimada sniffed it cautiously, his long conical ears pressed against his scalp. On the other hand, Billy The Kid wasn't half as picky. After parsing the mug's contents, a delighted grin split his face, and he guzzled it down, all while the Shimada kid looked on with an expressive mix of astonishment and disgust.
Reyes chuckled. "It's not poisoned, you know." Shimada sneered, showing off an impressive collection of fangs. Whistling low, Reyes shook his head. "They really did a number on you, didn't they?" It wasn't clear how much Shimada could understand, but the tone seemed to come across without trouble, because the boy bristled, rejecting his sympathy with a low, rumbling growl.
Sensing the agents getting antsy outside, Reyes surreptitiously signaled for them to keep their big noses out of it.
Everything was under control.
Not long after, Morrison came in with a pair of manila envelopes, deposited them on the ruined table, then quickly made his retreat. In each folder were pictures of crimes committed by Deadlock and the Shimada-gumi respectively. Both of the boys bore the images with disturbing stoicism, though the Shimada flinched at some of the exploits, a glint of fear in his dark eyes. And no wonder. Most of the deaths attributed to the Shimada-gumi's 'secret weapon' looked to be caused by some kind of animal mauling, as they were barely recognizable beneath the lacerations and blood.
Something unexpected that Reyes learned from going through the Shimada's file was that the Deadlock kid was incredibly empathetic. His gaze darkened dangerously when the Shimada boy ducked his head in muted shame, until finally it came to a head when he snatched up a picture of a dead yakuza with his throat torn out to shred it to pieces with his teeth.
Reyes waited until he was finished. "I'm not doing this to hurt you," he said simply. "I'm doing this so the pair of you know what's waiting for you if I let the law have you." And that's if they were lucky. More likely a lab would snatch them up first, pick up where their gangs had left off. Shaking the manila folder filled with gunshot victims and similar maulings, he added, "There's plenty more where this came from." Folding his hands, he made sure he had their full attention. And for all that Shimada played at not speaking a lick of fluent English, understanding dawned on his features. "What I'm offering you is a way out. You've got nowhere to go. Your gang's locked up behind bars and if I send you back to the Shimada-gumi, you'll be back in a cage this time tomorrow."
He let them chew on that for a minute, watching the gears at work. "Your brother… He was at school when we scheduled the raid." And Shimada went rigid, his already porcelain-pale face blanching. "We were hoping that after we weakened the Shimada-gumi, he could be sent into child services, adopted by a loving family. All that jazz." His gaze fixed on the Japanese boy, though he was sure to keep an eye on both through his periphery, Reyes said meaningfully, "But there was a change of plans."
The yakuza's heir worked his jaw, croaking through a dry throat, "You were going to... separate us?" There was a lisp that extended his words to sibilant hisses. Still, it was clearly something Reyes could work with.
"Kid-" - "My name is Hanzo." - "Hanzo," Reyes was only to happy to amend. Glancing across the table at the scruffy-haired desert punk, he added, "You want to get in on this?"
"Jesse," the boy gritted out, shooting Hanzo a glance. "Jesse McCree."
Reyes nodded, suppressing a grin. He turned his attention back to Hanzo. "To be honest, we didn't know you existed." The shock and betrayal that washed over the boy couldn't have been faked. He honestly hadn't known, but then it passed so quickly, buried beneath fragile composure, that Reyes guessed he must have at least suspected. Pushing down pity, he explained, "The Shimada-gumi told everyone the kumicho's eldest son had died as a baby."
A sharp intake of breath was the most he got from Hanzo. It was Jesse who snarled.
It soon became clear that Jesse had little loyalty for his gang. They'd treated him with disdain, keeping him fed enough to shoot a gun with accuracy and not much else. He certainly wasn't going to rot in jail for them.
In Hanzo, he must have seen a kindred spirit.
Slowly, Reyes stood up, gathering the folders and photos into his arms. He meant to give them time to process the offer, but before he could step past the threshold, a raspy, "Matte!" stopped him in his tracks.
"My brother-" Hanzo visibly struggled to get the words out, even stopping to swallow and try again. "Genji never saw me in a cage." He looked up earnestly. "He didn't know what the clan had me do. If you promise to protect him, I'll help you."
Reyes frowned, debating internally if this might be some kind of trick. Some instinct told him it wasn't, though. Still, that didn't mean it was easy. "And you, Jesse?" The Deadlock boy jumped in his seat, startled by the address.
Slouching, he folded his arms over his chest. "'s not like I've got a choice," he grumbled petulantly. As though he hadn't been sold the instant Shimada joined on. As though a pink flush didn't paint his freckled cheeks when a quiet sigh of relief passed Hanzo's lips upon his acceptance.
Reyes coughed to mask a chuckle, turning away quickly. "I'll have Morrison set aside a couple of rooms for you, then." In spite of the sheer disbelief which greeted his words and broke his heart, Reyes forced some levity back into his tone. "Welcome to Blackwatch, boys."
And as he walked away, informing Morrison that Blackwatch now had a pair of new recruits, he made a promise to himself. Nobody was ever going to be putting these kids in cages again.
Not on his watch.