Agent Washington stood on top of the desert watchtower. Alone, he watched over the emptiness surrounding him and sighed. Carolina was taking ages. He knew that what she was doing was personal to her, but that still didn't mean that he had wanted to be left alone with them. Although, they were beginning to grow on him, their annoying habits turned endearing. Just a little.
"Well, well. If it isn't Agent Washington. How's it going?"
The annoying voice sounded from behind Wash. With a barely suppressed eye roll, he slowly turned around.
"Tucker," he greeted. "I thought that you were looking after Caboose."
Tucker rolled his eyes. "You've got to be kidding me, man. I can't take one more second of him asking if we are looking for Church's long-lost face."
"Actually, that's a lot closer to the truth than I would have expected. Do you think there's something wrong with him?" Wash asked, concerned.
Tucker waved the suggestion away. "Nah," he said dismissively. "Let's just cross our fingers and hope for the best. He's bound to catch up one day."
"I don't know," said Wash. "You really think so?"
"Dude, that was a fucking joke. Caboose is an idiot, and that will never change."
Wash laughed, but otherwise said nothing. After a minute of relaxed silence, Tucker spoke up again.
"So, Wash. How are the ladies at Project Freelancer?"
Startled, Wash jumped. Memories crashed down on him, flooding his mind with images. A troubled girl in brown armour glared at him, her eyes alternately begging him to understand and demanding that he left. Carolina, her fiery red hair streaming as she raced away on the Mongoose. And Tex, her confident grace as she fought. And lastly, he remembered South.
His fingers unconsciously curled around the hilt of his pistol. He remembered the sting of betrayal tasting bitter in his mouth as he squeezed, firing into her helmet as she stood before him, defenseless. The quick-tempered twin in the purple and orchid-green armour was gone.
Wash still didn't quite no how he felt about that.
But he didn't mention any of that to Tucker. Instead he laughed, the sound bitter and full of haunting memories.
"None of which you'd want to get tangled up in, Tucker."
"Bow-chicka-bow-wow."
Washington rolled his eyes at the familiar joke, certain that Tucker was probably grinning immaturely behind his visor.
"But, like, are you fucking kidding me, man?" he complained. "First Church, and now you. Neither of you guys know any chicks that aren't complete psycho's, and would possibly want to go out with me."
Wash said nothing. He just sat there, quietly remembering a time when that wouldn't have been so true. For him, at least.
The first few years of Project Freelancer had been happy times, filled with an obsession over one girl with razor-sharp blonde hair and stormy grey eyes. Unfortunately, South had kept everyone at arms length. No one, not even North, had ever truly understood South. Before they had been separated, South had just been starting to relax her barricades, and had even let Wash in behind her protective walls. Wash wondered if, had things not turned out the way they had, South could have been able to completely lose her mental barriers, and learn to stop shoving people away.
No, Wash reminded himself sternly. Such thoughts were useless because things had turned out the way that they had, and Wash…
Wash had become South's executioner.
Fate sure had a fucking sense of humor, didn't it?
"Hey, is that Carolina?"
Tucker pointed at a dust cloud. For a second, Wash couldn't see her, but then his visor automatically zoomed in and he saw a figure atop a motorbike, dressed in dusty aquamarine armour.
Thank God, Wash thought, and hurried down the ramp from the tower to the desert floor.
Carolina spun to a halt, and turned off the Mongoose's engine. As she dropped off of the motorbike, a semi-transparent and faintly blue figure flickered into being on its hood. Wash groaned.
"Don't say that's what I think it is," he pleaded. Tucker grinned.
"Sure is," he smirked. "Well, you guys wouldn't tell us anything!" he added defensively.
Wash shook his head in disbelief, but Carolina grinned and removed her helmet. She didn't seem upset over it, and Wash realized that Epsilon-Church must have revealed itself to her during their journey.
"Anyway, I have an idea," Carolina began excitedly. "I think that we should head here next, to-" Carolina broke off, her finger hovering over a map that Epsilon had conveniently conjured into holographic being. "Wait, where the fuck is Caboose?" she snapped, irritated.
Wash glanced around. Slowly, one-by-one, the members of both Blue and Red team had assembled, all except for Caboose.
"Tucker?" he asked. The soldier shrugged.
"Like I know. He could be chasing his own shadow, for all I care."
But then, Wash saw Caboose. He exploded out of the shadows surrounding the desert facility, and he now pelted up the slope towards them as fast as he could. His helmet was missing, and his expression was both confused and terrified.
"I don't like the mean lady," Caboose admitted shamefully as he joined them. Wash raised an eyebrow.
"Who? Carolina?" he asked.
"No," said Caboose with a shake of his head. "The other one."
"Caboose, there's only one girl here," Simmons said, annoyed.
But Wash wasn't paying attention to him. His stomach dropped, and he felt it settle somewhere around his feet even as his heart rose to choke in his mouth. His eyes were fixated on the figure that stood at the bottom of the slight rise.
She stood with one hand on her cocked hip, her helmet swinging from her left hand. Razor-sharp shards of blonde hair floated around her, the tips just sweeping her chin. A scarred left cheek, evident when she grinned menacingly. Her eyes were stormy, grey shards that glared up the slope, searching. Her grin widened when she saw Carolina, and she began to walk up the slope.
Her dark blue armour glinted in the sun, a different colour than when Wash had last seen her. A pistol swung from her waist, and the DMR hanging from the magnetic strips across her back peeked over her shoulder.
A ghost raised from Wash's own personal hell.
South.