(All characters mentioned belong to their respective owners. Hello reader! I appreciate that you dropped by to take a gander at my writing! :D)
Chapter 1: The Voyage
"Can you believe this!? This rocks! I neva' thought we'd get a break afta' all these years a' workin'!" The team boarded the large boat while Scout blabbered on happily, much to the annoyance of the other eight members. The boat was an enormous cruise liner, filled with fancy things all around. This was new to the team, having been used to sitting around in the scorching hot battlefields where they fought the RED mercenaries.
As soon as they stepped aboard, a man wearing a black suit and sunglasses was waiting for each of them. "Hello gentlemen. I've been informed that you are all VIPs, so please enjoy your stay. Everything on this ride is complimentary, so don't be afraid to take a little extra." the man said, making the demolitions expert of the team drool at the thought of indulging heavily in alcoholic products. "I have keycards for the VIP rooms right here, so once you have them, feel free to roam about the ship. We'll be sailing soon." he continued with a smile.
The team walked on, all taking a keycard for each of them that the man was handing out. Each mercenary followed another suited man to their own new rooms, and each went their own separate ways. The Scout entered his room and grinned at the neatly made bed. Scout was a thin figure, who the team found to be both a pest to them and an even bigger pest to the enemy team. He was always the fastest running one, the youngest, most childish, and spoke with an accent that anyone could tell was from Boston. "Aw yeah!" he yelled to himself, tossing his luggage to the side and belly flopping onto the bed. He closed his eyes, never having been so comfortable in years.
Just then he heard a deep and thickly accented voice from his door. "Little man, do not forget meeting." the voice said, revealing itself to be the Heavy, who was a giant and insanely muscular man from Russia, and always found a way to intimidate someone if he wanted. "Dang 'et, forgot. I'm comin'." Scout responded, ungluing himself from the bed that seemed as if it were sent from a heavenly power. He walked out of his door, and followed Heavy into one of the rooms. Any time that something of significance happened or was going to happen, the team would hold a small meeting and discuss the topic.
They had brought in chairs for each of them that were arranged into a circle, with all of them in their own respective positions. A man wearing a pinstripe suit and a balaclava mask, the Spy of the team, nodded to the Scout who was taking his seat. "Gentlemen, you know why we are here. As always, I would like to discuss the 'vacation' we have found ourselves residing in," Spy said. The Spy was known by the team to be a snake, deceiving to all of his enemies, backstabbing when they weren't looking. He had the ability to render himself invisible, and disguise himself to look perfectly like someone else; a powerful asset to the teams goals.
"Now, as you all know, our employers, the Builders League United, are and have always been disregarding to our personal happiness. I personally believe this trip to be a sham to put us in a different mission when nobody expects it. The other well dressed man informed us that everything here is free for us, but I have a difficult time believing such a lie." he said, voicing his suspicions.
"Nah' you're gettin' above ya' head Spy. We all know that we deserve this!" Scout said, leaning back in his chair.
"I'm with Scout on this. Why not jus' enjoy it while this goes on?" The Sniper of the team said, who was a tall man with aviator sunglasses and a brown cowboy-like hat, who was straight from the outback of Australia.
'Mmmf mm mmm mpff mff." said the muffled voice of Pyro, who was wearing a gas mask and a fire-proof suit. Pyro was the scariest of the group, who burned things on a constant basis, and never spoke, save for mumbles and grunts heard from inside the mask.
The Spy raised an eyebrow. "And what if this is a ruse to kill us all?" the Spy questioned. "Then we kill 'em and blow 'eir bloodeh' brains out," the Demoman responded. The man always referred to himself as a black Scottish cyclops, who had an eye missing that was covered by an eye patch, wore a black skull cap, and was almost always drunk, spending his normal days with his lips pursed onto the tip of a bottle of Scrumpy, his favorite drink. "Then we hide de' bodies n' say they fell off n' then..." he continued for a small moment before passing out in his chair and loudly snoring, which the team by now had learned to ignore.
"Wonderful insight..." the Spy mumbled to himself.
"Da', Demo is right. If baby men try to fight, we crush them." Said the Heavy, making a hand motion pretending to squash a mans head in.
Then, Soldier loudly spoke out. "Men! Do you not realize what's going on?! THE NAZIS AND THE COMMUNISTS HAVE RETURNED! It's obvious that they have all joined together as a team, and they're sending us to Berlin to be executed by Hitler as we speak! Men, we cannot allow this new threat to claim victory! In the name of America, who will help me solve the mystery of who is on this boat running the evil operation!?" the Soldier dramatically screamed.
The rest of the team gave no response. Soldier was a complete psychopath, who was overly patriotic and stuck in his own world. He wore a blue military suit, along with a helmet that always covered his eyes. It was a mystery to everyone how he was able to see. The other eight sat silently, always knowing not to get involved in Soldiers plans. "Fine, be cowards. Just know that when you see socialism in America, I was right." he said, marching out of the room and into his own to begin a plan that would be absolutely insane and illogical. This was normal for every meeting.
"I agree with zhe Spy. Zis cannot be true. Zeh Administrator vhould never allow a company paid vacation." said the Medic. He was from Germany, was a respected doctor, and was the one to keep the team alive. However helpful he seemed, everyone was always wary of the Medic. He did not care for the sick and dying, but was a crazed doctor who loved blood. Different from usual, he was just wearing the normal clothes he had under his combat clothing. He also adorned circular glasses, and a face of a psychotic, experienced genius.
"Finally, a logical statement," the Spy thought to himself.
"As fer' me, I'll just enjoy this while it lasts, and if somethin' comes up, I'll just grab the guns I hid with the cargo," said Engineer, the most crafty of the group. He was always an important element, who could build things insanely fast, like duel minigun and rocket sentries for defense, dispensers that give out health and ammo, and teleporters. A genius from Texas with a southern accent, he was wearing his usual overalls, his construction helmet, and his tinted goggles. The team stared in surprise, all but the Spy, who had helped him smuggle the weapons onboard.
"You brought Sasha onto boat?" Heavy asked, thinking of his prized minigun that he loved and shared an intimate relationship with.
"Yep, I brought it big fella," Engineer said, making Heavy smile, "but the rule is, leave the guns alone unless absolutely necessary. Got it?"
Heavy sadly nodded, wishing he could go and have a session of cuddling with his beloved weapon.
"I like Engie's idea. Let's have fun, enjoy tha' ride, and get th' guns if we need 'em." Scout said, wishing the meeting would just end so he could just return to the confines of his room to reunite with his bed. "Sounds like a solid plan." Sniper added, wanting to leave as well.
"Then it's settled. Take advantage of the break, and acquire the weapons if necessary," Spy finished, with the team all nodding with each other,"with that out of the way, s'amuser gentlemen." he said, standing up and walking out. "See ya'!" Scout yelled, darting out of the room and then returned to his own. He then slammed his door shut, and happily drifted into his bed. Pyro calmly walked out and waltzed into his own room, doing a tiny dance along the way. Everyone else left but Sniper, who had his hand over his face, annoyed. The meeting was held in his room, and they had left the chairs, a mess on the floor, and a sleeping Demoman slumped in his chair still. "Are you bloody blokes going ta' clean up!?" Sniper yelled into the hallway, though everyone was already in their own rooms. He angrily sighed, then hoisted the unconscious Demoman over his shoulder and exited the room.
Carrying Demoman down the hallway to find his room, Sniper saw one of the doors open and looked inside, assuming it was the drunk mans room. Peering inside, he found something quite different. Soldier was standing next to a wall that had many scribbles and pictures on it, in deep thought and contemplation. Some of the pictures placed were of Hitler, John Adams, the Illuminati symbol, a swastika, an AK47, Stalin, and many more confusing images.
Sniper wasn't sure what to make of it.
One week earlier, in an unknown location...
"Sir, your contact has arrived."
"Good. Bring her in." Said a mans voice, which was commanding, but trustable. That was just the first impression upon hearing his voice by most people.
The room was dark, so nobody could see the face of the man sitting at his desk awaiting his visitor. "Here she is," a voice stated from behind an opened door, which closed as someone walked in.
"Hello. Should I refer to you as Helen, or the Administrator?" the man asked.
"What do you want?" the raspy voice of a woman responded, without respect.
"You know what you're here for. I've known for a long time that you and the BLU Corporation have been running illegal operations, involving the fact that you send mercenaries to their death on a constant basis who have no other choice for how many years now? I could have you arrested with a life sentence right now."
The woman glared at him. Though neither person could see the other's face, they both knew what each were thinking. "And?"
"I have a proposition for you," he knew nobody else was in the room," I have files that detail the skills of some of your particular mercenaries. I can see that they are quite adept at their job."
"What are you getting at?" she asked, as if her time was being wasted.
"Give me your mercenaries. I have a job for them. I've sent many operatives on a mission, and all have disappeared. I believe your men have the skills required to complete the job."
She scoffed. "And what if I say no?"
He lowered down to a whisper. "Or I'll have you tied to an electric chair while I send a task force of peacekeepers to topple down your business."
She sat quiet for a moment. "Ugh, fine."
"Good then. When the job is done, I'll send them back. I'm esteemed to have such skilled workers in the field."
The woman erupted with laughter. "Them?! Skilled?! Hah!"
"What do you mean? I read what their files stated. I saw an agile recon expert, a thorough pyro technician, a dedicated soldier, an expert explosives user, a mighty heavy weaponry wielder, a genius engineer, a skilled medic, a precise marksmen, and a clever assassin, am I not correct?"
The woman had to calm herself down to talk. "You'll see soon enough."