Jack Morrison stepped out of the limousine dressed in a black suit with a bowtie. Immediately, he was surrounded by his cohorts. A short distance away the shouting of reporters asking for statements and the flashing of cameras could be heard. Jack drew his comrades in for a final reminder of the mission. Among the squad were some of his closest friends including Tracer, Winston, Torbjorn, Dr. Zeigler, and Gabriel Reyes who looked rather displeased to be here. "All right, team, remember why we're here," Jack said, "Inside it may look like a fancy party with a bunch of civilians in suits, but our objective comes before those formalities. Intelligence says that there has been increased Talon chatter thanks to this meeting, and that means we have a crucial task to protect these people and break Talon. Remember, we're not here for the celebration; we're all soldiers now, got that?."
"Roger that! Captain Jack!" Tracer chimed.
"We'll do our, best," Wiston added, "These people are counting on us."
"We won't let ya down, Jack," Torb confirmed.
Reyes groaned at the team's campy demeanor. "Can we just get inside? I need a drink."
"Ah, Reyes!" Torb called, "Shall we see who can down the most drinks over the night?"
Dr. Zeigler interjected. "You two need to be careful not to overdo it at a time like this."
"She's right," Jack concurred, "But I wouldn't want you acting out of character either."
Reyes just moaned in disbelief and then walked into the venue. "What's with Mr. grumpy pants tonight?" Lena asked, "He used to be so cool, but now he's just dead inside."
"I heard that." Everyone could hear Reyes through their ear pieces.
"Oops," Lena said, "Sorry, love."
"We'd better not stand around any longer," Jack added, "Let's get inside."
"Oh, yes!" Lena cried, grabbing onto Winson, "Winston, you have to help me try all the orderves! And Torby, you've got to introduce me to all your old friends from the guild."
Torb sighed. "Maybe after a few drinks." The three of them walked in together.
Mercy was about to follow after them when Jack tugged on her arm. She turned to him, expecting Jack to say something profound. Jack hit the switch on his ear piece to disable communication. "You look lovely tonight," he said. Angela blushed. She was wearing the most delicate cream colored dress, and despite the occasion wore it quite well.
Mercy switched off her own ear piece. "Really? I feel rather displaced at the moment."
"I half expected you to be wearing some doctor's uniform," Jack said, "I'm impressed you pull this off so well."
Angela gave a heaving sigh. "I feel like I'm going to fall apart any second now." She wobbled a little, as if she suddenly became light headed.
"Are you alright?" Jack asked. Then Mercy nearly toppled over. Jack barely caught her in his arms. "Angela, are you okay?"
"I… I'm fine," she stammered, "I don't know what came over me. I'll have to examine myself when I get back to…" Angela looked up. Their faces were mere inches apart. "...the lab." Knowing the place they were in, she tried to look away, but she could not. Staring into Jack's eyes, Angela saw a man devoted to upholding truth, justice, and morality: something she admired deeply.
Jack was equally entranced. Seeing Angela, he witnessed something that he could not be: merciful. Her ability to care for the lowest dregs of humanity went beyond Jack's potential. He saw threats to be eliminated; she saw humanity to be redeemed. Though Jack did not always think that terrible souls were worth saving, he had a profound appreciation of the quality in Angela. His mind was racing. There were too many diverging pathways to consider. This was neither the time nor the place for Jack to manifest sudden attachment, yet the way laid open. Everything was quiet. Even the reporters had gone silent, hoping to get a good shot of what came next. This brought the cynical Jack to the surface. He helped Angela to her feet. "Do you think you can walk?" Mercy nodded, her face downcast. "I'll see you inside," he said, releasing her hand, "I just need a minute." She smiled faintly and walked into the building.
Jack straightened himself. He breathed heavily attempting to regain his composure. Then a voice chirped in his ear. "Jack," Ana called. Somewhere on a distant rooftop, Ana was perched in the dark with other Overwatch operatives.
Jack turned on his piece. "Go ahead, Ana."
"You know," she went on, "my rifle has a sound amplifier on it." Jack fidgeted nervously. "But I didn't need it to see what was going on between the two of you."
"Now's not really a good time, Ana," Jack said begrudgingly.
"Time is never good," Ana responded, "It's what you do with the time that makes it good."
"Yeah, well, talking to me about this right now is not a good use of time," Jack countered.
"That's right," Ana said, "There's not much time left, Jack. In this line of work, we live and die at a moment's notice, so you had better hurry up and live, Jack."
Jack grunted. "Thanks for the advice, but I'm not meant for that life."
Ana sighed. "Alright, moving positions. You go enjoy the party."
With that Jack entered the venue. As he stepped into the auditorium, he looked over the huge crowd of officials, comrades, and professionals. The event was a momentous occasion, but Morrison couldn't help but feel a sense of dread knowing Talon was on the move. He would have to distract himself with the mission. He knew the truth; however, he couldn't make irrational decisions because of fear. Jack lost his train of thought when a familiar voice called to him.
"Commander Morrison," an older gentleman approached, hand extended, "It's been a while."
Morrison readily took the hand. "Representative Petras," Jack recognized the UN official, "Glad you could make it."
"Well," Petras said, "We owe Overwatch so much these days, I really couldn't miss." Jack smiled, and then he heard a small whimper emanate from behind the representative's back. Petras glanced behind himself. "Oh!" he exclaimed, "This is my daughter, Celia." He revealed a tiny girl from behind. "She wouldn't let me go without bringing her along to see all the heroes."
Jack chuckled as he knelt down to get eye to eye with the girl. "So you wanted to meet the Overwatch agents, huh?" Celia nodded as she clung to her father's pant leg. "C'mere," he said with a wave. Celia reluctantly stumbled forward. "My name's Jack," he took the little girl's hand and shook, "I know all the Overwatch agents."
"You do?" Celia asked.
Jack nodded. "Let me show you." He spun the girl around and began pointing out his friends one by one. "See that one," he asked. Celia nodded. "That's Winston: he's one of Overwatch's chief scientists, and he's the smartest monkey I know."
"I like him," Celia added.
"Yeah, Winston is great," Jack said. He looked more intently at Celia. "Do you like peanut butter, Celia?" A huge grin came over Celia's face. She nodded. "Well Winston loves peanut butter. I bet if you eat your peanut butter when your daddy makes you a sandwich, you'll grow up to be really smart, just like Winston. Would you like that?"
"Yes," Celia responded. Petras looked on at Jack admonishing his agents. The way his little girl's face lit up brought him joy.
Jack nodded. "Well you might have to wait. There's quite a few more agents here." He surveyed the room while Celia smiled with delight. "Look there. See that one, on the other side of the tables?" Celia nodded. "That's Torbjörn. He's a short little guy, but his contraptions tower overhead like giants. Better not get him riled up though; he's got enough temper for all of us."
"He sounds funny," Celia remarked.
"He says some funny things," Jack concurred, "Actually, you're about his size." Jack patted the girl's head. "I bet he'd like you. I'll introduce you, later." Celia nodded. "Hmm, let's see," Jack mumbled as his eyes danced over the room. "Oh! There see that one?" Celia giggle with excitement. "That's Lena."
"Tracer,' Celia corrected.
"Yep, that's what we call her while in the field," Jack said, "But I'd bet she'd really like it if you call her Miss Lena."
"Okay," Celia agreed.
"Now," Jack continued, "Do you know what Lena's powers are?"
"She goes fast," Celia said joyfully.
"She does go fast," Jack said, "In fact, she goes so fast time can't even keep track of her, and sometimes, when she makes a misstep, she can go even faster, backwards."
"Whoa!" Celia cried.
"Yeah, it's pretty cool."
"Who's that?" Celia asked. She pointed right to Dr. Ziegler.
"Oh, that's Angela," Jack said, "She's our medic, so when we're in the field, she keeps us from getting hurt. She keeps us going so we can protect you."
"She's pretty," Celia said, cooing over Mercy's elegant appearance.
Jack nodded. "Yes, she is." Seeing Angela happily conversing and laughing made Jack think of how things might have been: how his life could have went if he hadn't been chosen for this duty. But he couldn't wander in thought for long.
"Keep going," Celia urged.
"Okay," Jack said with a laugh, "I see one over there, at the bar." Celia stretched up onto her tippy-toes as she struggled to follow Jack's gaze.
"Oh! I see him," Celia cried.
"That's Gabriel Reyes," Jack said, "He commands Overwatch with me."
Celia shot Morrison a strange look. "So, what is your ability?"
Jack responded with a dull yet obvious answer. "Me? I lead Overwatch: I make sure everyone does their jobs."
Celia look curiously at Jack. "So," she said, "You're like a soldier. You take care of the agents and keep them safe." Her eyes widened as she waited for Jack's response.
"Yeah, something like that." Jack smiled. Celia suddenly wrapped her arms around Jack's neck and hugged him. Surprised, Jack reluctantly returned the embrace.
She pulled back and asked, "Will you introduce me to your agents?"
Jack couldn't help but laugh as he caught the girl's contagious excitement. "Of course," he said, standing up. He took the Celia small hand in his own. Petras made no motion to stop them but beamed with happiness.
Meanwhile, Torbjörn was attempting to dilute himself before confronting any of the suits. He walked up to the bar and straddled the seat next to Reyes. Torbjörn looked at him, but Reyes paid him no heed. Gabe was just blankly staring ahead as he sipped some fermented drink.
Having no patience for Reyes games, Torbjörn broke the silence. "Ya know, Reyes, there's somethin' I've been meanin' to ask ya." Reyes abruptly brought his glass onto the counter but did not avert his gaze. "I've been wonderin' why you've been so staunchly opposed to Jack's plans these past few months. A little strife between the commanders is one things, but lately you haven't seemed agreeable at all."
Reyes turned his stony eyes to Torb. "Are you saying that I should agree with everything Morrison does? Well, I'm tired of following orders, dwarf. I'm not going to play by the rules."
Hearing Reyes calloused remark, Torb was aggravated. "Well, maybe if you didn't spend all your time in Overwatch's basement, you wouldn't be so darn ignorant."
Reyes barely had time to take another sip of his drink before responding. "You make me sound like an angsty teen. Things aren't so simple. Pretty soon Jack's going to have to make a call that he can't accept, and then we'll see who's the able leader."
Reyes and Torbjörn were locked in a dead stare. Given the two men's dispositions, the argument might have ended in a fight had Winston not approached. "Hello there, gentlemen."
Reyes glanced at the monkey. "Excuse me," he said, sliding out of his chair and walking off.
Puzzled, Winston watched Reyes walk away. "Something the matter between you two?" he asked.
"Ah," said Torbjörn, "Nothin' to be concerned about." Torb looked down at the counter. There was an empty glass before him, but he wasn't sure he wanted to drink. He ran his fingers over the rim.
Winston cosied up next to Torb. "Are you alright, Torbjörn? You seem rather sad."
Torbjörn sighed. "It's just not the same without my drinkin' buddy."
Just then, a familiar voice called to them. "Greetings, gentlemen!" Reinhardt came between the two and squeezed them tightly. "You're looking rather well dressed this evening."
"Haha. Hello, sir," Winston said.
"Reinhardt!" Torbjörn shouted, "I didn't know you would be here!"
Reinhardt released the pair. "A celebration of Overwatch's work: I wouldn't miss it for the world!" Reinhardt bellowed, "And I always take an opportunity to see my friends."
"Ah, it's been too long!" Torb said.
"Yes," Reinhardt agreed, "Too long since you've worn that suit, my friend. Just look at all the dust." Reinhardt made a brushing motion across Torb's suit.
"Why, you!" Torb exclaimed, "At least what I wear doesn't smell like unwashed gym socks!"
"Uh," Winston stammered, "I'm just going to leave now."
Reinhardt and Torbjörn had entered a new staring contest. "Torbjörn, I think there's only one way to settle this!"
"Hah!" Torbjörn smirked, "A drinking contest? Why challenge me when you always lose?"
Reinhardt gave a mighty laugh at Torb's jest. "We will just have to see about that!"
Winston, in the meantime, got some distance between himself and the men's antics. As he looked over the room, Winston saw many smiling faces; people seemed very happy to be reunited with earth's greatest minds and defenders. He approached Tracer, who was eagerly gobbling up some orderves.
"Ah, Winston," Tracer said through a full mouth, "You have to come try some of these… What are these?" Lena looked to the waiter who held the tray of treats on picks.
"Boules de fromage," said the waiter with a light accent.
"Oh, yeah, that!" Tracer chimed, "It's like I've never had food this good in my life."
Winston adjusted his glasses. "I think he just said those are cheese balls."
Tracer gulped, but her cheeks were still puffed out. Heartbroken, she looked from the tray to the waiter. "Seriously?" she whimpered. The waiter nodded. Lena reluctantly returned the cheese she held in her hands.
"Hey," Winston intervened, "At least you're not addicted to peanut butter."
At this Lena seemed to cheer up a bit, and then Angela get their attention. "Winston, there you are," Mercy said, "I wanted to ask you something."
Winston smiled. "I'm at your service."
"I was wondering what exactly you'll be showing here tonight," Angela said.
"Well," Winston said, "Commander Morrison asked me to prepare a little speech about the reactor." Angela nodded. "But he also said there was a significant chance I wouldn't be giving that speech."
"Ah," Angela sighed, "Well, I suppose congratulations are in order either way."
"Ya! That's right!" Tracer shouted, "Winston's outdone himself once again!"
Winston chuckled. "Well, I certainly couldn't have done it without both of your help."
Just then a lady approached the podium at the front of the auditorium and spoke through the sound system. "Attention everyone," she said, obviously quite excited, "We'll be starting the event shortly. As you can see we've reserved seats around the room for each of you, but other than that feel free to sit anywhere. If you would please make your way to a seat, that would be great! Again, we'll be starting shortly. Thank you all for coming, and please enjoy the evening."
"It sounds like the presentation is about to begin," Winston said.
"Do you know what's in the presentation, love?" Lena asked.
"Hmm," Winston thought a moment, "I believe it starts with an honorific message and then a ranking officer will get things started."
Lena bubbled with excitement. "Oh, this is gonna be wicked!"
Angela laughed. "We'd better get to our seats before they begin."
After a quick examination of the room, the group found their way to a semi-circle, half booth table. "Well, this certainly seems like a nice spot," Winston remarked.
"Ah, yeah!" Tracer exclaimed, "We can sit back, relax and have a great view of the shenanigans."
"Um, excuse me." Tracer glanced around looking for the interjector when she felt a tug on her leg. "Miss Lena?" Tracer looked behind her to see the source of the little voice. Big green eyes stared up at her from the timid face of this tiny girl. She nervously hid her hands behind her back as she said, "Hi. My name's Celia."
Tracer was completely infatuated. "Awwww," Lena moaned in delight, almost seeming to struggle for air. "Oh my God! You're so cuuuute!" She knelt down and began pinching the girl's cheeks. Celia giggled happily.
"I think Lena has made a new friend, Winston," Angela said. They both smiled.
Tracer was stretching Celia's face out thoroughly. Soon, Celia was pinching back, taking Lena's face with both hands. They were both laughing and making strange, befuddled noises with their mouths. Eventually they stopped, and Celia said, "You're really pretty, Miss Lena."
Traced cooed. "I think you look pretty too, Celia. Now c'mere." She drew the little girl in for a hug; their faces mashed together like two lumps of dough.
"I see you two are getting along," Jack said as he approached.
"Have you met my new best friend, Celia, Jack?" Lena asked.
"Yep. I promised to introduce her to the agents."
"Oh!" Lena went in for another hug, "Can we keep her Jack?" Celia laughed. "Pleeeease?"
Jack chuckled. "Just for tonight," he conceded.
"Yay!" Lena and Celia both screamed with delight.
"You have to sit next to me, love!" Tracer cried. Celia nodded. The agents began taking their seats. Celia slid in so that she was seated between Angela and Tracer.
"You know," Angela remarked, "I don't think I witnessed Lena's true power for affection until today."
"Don't worry, love," Tracer responded, "You and the Overwatch crew will always have a special place in my heart." She placed her hand over her chest.
Angela laughed. "Well, so long as you don't rub this girl's face raw, I think I can live with that."
"Ooooh!" Tracer cried, "But she's so cute!"
The pair's silly displays of affection went on for some time. Eventually things began to stagnate as they realized the event still had not begun. Tracer was getting anxious, but Celia was happy to have the agents in such close proximity.
Celia looked curiously at Mercy. "Your name's Angela, right?"
Angela smiled. "It is, but most people call me Dr. Ziegler."
"So you are a doctor?" Celia asked, "Do you take care of the Overwatch agents when they are hurt?"
"That's right," Angela responded, "I make sure everyone is healthy and keep them from harm."
"So you're like the agents' mommy?" Celia prodded.
"Uh, well," Mercy said awkwardly, "I suppose so. We're like a family in Overwatch, and it's my responsibility to keep everyone alive and well."
"So," Celia continued, "if you're the mommy, is Jack the daddy?"
All coloration left Angela's face. Lena was suddenly paying very close attention and a huge grin overtook her face. Winston, on the other hand, could only awkwardly look away. Jack just laughed. "Ya know, Celia," he said, "You have a funny way of thinking about things."
"What's so funny about it?" she asked.
Jack smiled. "I just didn't think you would understand the workings of Overwatch so plainly." Jack knelt his head in disbelief. "Angela and I are a team; we have a duty to protect and enrich the lives of our agents. They are like our children. We care about the agents, and we do everything we can for them, just like your mommy and daddy love you and would do anything for you. So to answer your question, yes, we are the caretakers of Overwatch." Angela sighed with relief while Tracer sighed with indifference.
Once again the lady spoke from the podium. "Uh, thank you for your patience everyone. Sorry for the delay. We had some technical difficulties, but we're ready to begin now! First a short presentation on the legacy of Overwatch!" She stepped aside, and the curtains behind parted to reveal a screen. The lights dimmed, and the Overwatch insignia was projected on screen.
Elsewhere, the evening was not so thrilling. Ana's mission was an important one although joyless. She attempted to occupy herself with vigilance. The streets glistened in the city lights, and the moon sparkled on a cloudless night. Despite the spectacular scenery, all was quiet, save for the occasional report from one of her squad. Ana couldn't help but contemplate the circumstances. She understood how critical this mission was to Overwatch. The terrorist organization Talon certainly wasn't a handful of revolutionists playing in the backyard with firecrackers. Ana knew Talon was far more deadly and precise, yet Overwatch knew so little about the organization. That was the most terrifying part: fighting an enemy that was indecipherable. It seemed that Talon knew Overwatch's every move, but Talon was a ghost. Whoever or whatever was at the head of this terrible organization was brilliant and had unprecedented access to resources. Nevertheless, Ana was not one to be intimidated by secretive foes. Things were much the same during the Omnic crisis. The Omniums after all were learning, self-improving factories, churning out increasingly advanced machinery until their hibernation. The original Overwatch strike team had faced these threats fearlessly.
Although the Omnic crisis was a terrible tragedy, Ana longed for those simpler days. Now everything was muddied with bureaucracy and red tape. That life was easy, operating from warzone to warzone, but life had quite a few more roadblocks nowadays. Overwatch was restricted by governments around the world; keeping the peace turned out to be its own worst enemy. Talon could easily disable Overwatch activity while unhindered by laws or jurisdictions, yet no government would declare martial law just for a few "minor" incidents.
As she examined the city streets through her scope, Ana sighed. It seemed like just yesterday she was joking around with Reinhardt, Reyes, Morrison, and Torbjörn after a victory against the Omnics. Then the bigwigs came, slapped some badges on their chests, and now everything was different.
Then Ana's well tuned senses detected the faint humming of an engine. She looked around, scouring the streets for any sign of the vehicle. As it approached, Ana realised that the noise wasn't coming from the ground but from the sky. She looked up, her vision darting across the sky for the blurred outline of an aircraft. She caught sight of what looked like a helicopter enshrouded in the night. As the chopper flew overhead, Ana zoomed in with her rifle scope. Surveying the helicopter she noted the distinct number on the side.
Just a news helicopter, she thought. Ana lowered her rifle and paused for thought. There certainly was something unusual about a news helicopter flying at this time of night, but this certainly was a momentous occasion. Ana considered the possibilities for a moment. Better check in with Jack.
Ana tapped the device in her ear. "Jack? What's your status?"
No response.
"Jack?" she called out again.
Nothing.
Ana was very tense now. Jack would have responded immediately, lest the circumstances forbid it. However, Ana didn't hear a peep of anything: no static, no muffled voices, no cross chatter, nothing. Talon could very well have jammed communications.
Well, Ana reasoned, at least we planned ahead. Ana pulled out a small pocket device with a single button on the top. The device was meant to be an immutable communicator. With one press Jack would receive the signal and realize something was amiss.
Fwoosh! A noise erupted from behind Ana. Ana barely managed to evade an incoming missile, the explosion rocking her and lighting up the roof. Shots rang out. Ana could hear other agents shouting. She reached for the communicator, but she had seemingly lost it in the blast. Meanwhile her squad was getting shot at from multiple directions. Ana readied her rifle. Things were certainly heating up.
Within the venue, no one had the slightest inclination of what was happening without. After the short introductory video had ended, a gentleman approached the podium to introduce the first speaker of the night. Everyone knew someone with a deep history with Overwatch would be the first to speak and honor their achievements, but not even the most notable agents suspected he would speak. Gabriel Reyes approached the stage. In one hand he held a drink, and he shook with the other. As he arrived at the podium, he gave the audience his typical menacing glare. Even Jack was unnerved.
"Did you know grumps would be the first to speak? Lena asked Jack in a hushed voice.
"No," he responded, "I left most of the event scheduling to the event planners."
Reyes grunted to clear his throat. "So I suppose all of you are here for me to regurgitate all the wondrous deeds and services Overwatch has provided you. Well, I love vomiting as much as the next guy, but I think I'd rather tell you a story." Everyone in the room was captivated by Gabe's unusual direction. "A long time ago, I was just a soldier. I was just a man trying to make life work serving his country. Well, turns out I was pretty good at it… maybe too good. When the US government started coming around looking for soldiers to super charge, I nearly jumped at the chance. You see, all the fighting, the training, the conditioning, it starts to eat away at a person. By that point I'm not sure what humanity was left in me, but it wasn't enough." Gabriel lowered his head. "That's when my good friend, Commander Jack Morrison came in." Reyes smiled as he gestured to where Jack was sitting. Jack was startled to hear Reyes mention his name in such a context. "Morrison: you see he wasn't the kind of person who wanted to live as a soldier. He had dreams, ambitions, but most of all he had a sense of duty. Not to the government, his CO, or even his country. Jack was a man for people, and he wouldn't sit by and let me squander my abilities on myself. For every moment that we fought together, he gave my strength a purpose; he gave meaning to my madness. You see with Jack around, I couldn't just be a soldier. I had to think hard about the kind of person I wanted to become. I had to know why I was doing things, that I was doing them not for a corrupt cause but for humanity. That is what Overwatch is. Commander Morrison has set a standard of humanitarian efforts both in the world and in every person's heart." There was a brief eruption of applause. Gabriel smiled to himself. "When Jack and I were picked to lead the first Overwatch strike team, I was shocked. 'We were just soldiers,' or so I reasoned with myself. But what every member of that strike team including myself didn't realise at the time was that we weren't picked simply because we were the best of the best. Because there were others... hell, I've met some of them... recruited some of them. What made the Overwatch team unique was a uniting moral identity. Each member of the team sought to better humanity, to protect them, to save them. And that legacy lives on in each of us to this day, not because of a title or super powers, but because that hope for humanity still binds us to this very hour." Reyes raised his glass. "Let us never forget Overwatch's legacy." The room was filled with uproarious applause. For a moment Gabe caught Morrison's eyes, and then he looked away.
Meanwhile, Ana struggled to weave between bullets. That helicopter she had seen certainly was not interested in the news and was now raining gunfire upon her. Ana ducked behind a ventilation unit which provided her with minimal cover. The rapid popping of the machine gun was met with the echoes of other firefights in the district. The task force had certainly been surprised by Talon's attack if not overwhelmed.
Luckily, the Overwatch agents were not unprofessional grunts. A soldier posted on another roof began firing on the helicopter as suppressant. The chopper made a swift turn to avoid injury and redirected fire on the vulnerable target. Ana raised her rifle, knowing the window of opportunity would be short and even shorter for the daring soldier. As soon as the mounted gun began firing, the other agent would be cut to shreds. Without hesitation, Ana lined up her eye with the cockpit of the helicopter. Bam!
The heli wobbled unsteadily until it dipped into a downward dive. The rasping of the automatic gun was distorted as all precision was lost. Bullets skimmed over the rooftop, narrowly missing the soldier. Then the helicopter scraped against the building until its blades were choked with metal and concrete and then crashed into the ground with a fiery blast. The other agent only had time to nod in response before leaving to join his comrades.
Ana lowered her rifle. Scanning her surrounding, she couldn't see anyone else on the rooftops. Her perch seemed uncompromised for the moment. Regaining a sense of the grander scheme, Ana resumed her search for the communicator. With her keen vision, it didn't take long for her to spot the device under an AC unit. She grabbed it, but then her senses detected an oncoming threat. Several vehicles fast approached, likely filled with Talon goons. Ana ran to the roof's edge just in time to see several nondescript vans zoom past toward the venue. She hit the button on the communicator; Ana only hoped her message was not too late.
Jack nearly jumped from his seat when he felt the backup communicator vibrate in his pocket. Unfortunately he knew exactly what that meant. Just as the event was beginning to become entertaining, Jack had to shut everything down.
Tracer noticed his jolting reaction. "Everything alright, love?"
"Sadly," Jack said, "I believe this event is canceled."
"Aww," Tracer moaned, "Already?"
"You know your tasks. Has anyone seen Torbjörn?"
"I last saw him by the bar," Winston replied.
"Alright," Jack nodded, "If you guys can lock the place down, I'll get the weapons."
"Easily done, sir," Winston said.
"We'll be done in a jiffy," Lena chirped.
Each of them got up, and steeling themselves for the coming fight, went to prepare. Angela, however, had no place on the front lines. Being a medic, she didn't need to prepare her weapons, nor could she assist in a way that the others were not already covering. Morrison, being the ever attentive commander, made sure Angela was mentally prepared for the situation.
"You alright?" he asked.
"I'm fine," Angela responded, "I'll just stay with Celia."
"Good," he nodded, "There will be some medical equipment stored with the weapons. I'll be sure to bring it over." Angela nodded complacently.
Celia decided it was time to pipe up. "What's going on?" she asked.
Mercy turned to her smiling softly. "Don't worry about it too much, my dear. The heroes have to perform their jobs; they are protecting us."
"Are bad people coming for us?" Celia prodded.
"Probably," Angela said, "But I'll stay with you and make sure you're safe."
Celia snuggled up to Angela. "Are you scared?" she asked.
Angela gently patted the girl's head. "A little," she responded, "But not for the reason you might imagine." She watched as Morrison walked away.
Jack found Torby chugging another glass of beer. "Torbjörn," he tried to get the attention of the stout engineer.
Torbjörn slammed his empty glass on the counter. "Ha!" he said, "I think you're starting to slow down."
Reinhardt spoke in a rumbling voice, "You're going to have to try harder than that!" He raised another glass and emptied it in seconds.
"Reinhardt?" Jack interjected, "When did you get here?"
"Ah!" Torbjörn retaliated, "You never did know when to surrender!"
"And neither did you, my diminutive Swedish friend!" Their glasses were quickly refilled, and they both swigged the ale down.
"Hey!" Jack started, "Anybody want to do their jobs today?"
Reinhardt, noticing the intensified volume, slowly turned around. "Jack?" he stuttered, "When did you get here?"
"Not before you could drink yourselves to early graves," Jack retorted.
Reinhardt began bellowing with laughter. He got up and slung his bulky arms around Morrison. "Jack! I've missed you, old friend!" He squeezed Jack forcefully.
Jack's entire body was under unhealthy pressure. "Yeah, I've missed you too, buddy, but now's not the time to get sentimental," Jack strained to form the words.
Torbjörn pipped up. "Excuse us, Jack. We're in the middle of a contest, and I'm winning!"
"No you're not!" Reinhardt said as he swung around.
"Yeah," Jack said, "And we're about to be in the middle of a firefight here if the two of you don't straighten out!"
"Ah!" Torbjörn, "Jack, why didn't you say so? I need to get my materials!"
Jack sighed. "Finally. Let's go."
Reinhardt raised a finger. "Jack, what's going on? Is there trouble?"
"Yeah, it's Talon for sure," Jack replied. Looking over the sturdy German man, he thought better than putting him into the fight. "You're not exactly equipped for this. Stay with the civs in here; keep them safe."
"My Overwatch days may be over," Reinhardt said, "But the spirit lives on within me forever! I will not yield to any Talon fiends this day!"
Jack nodded. They separated, and he and Torbjörn retrieved the weapons and materials they had preemptively stored away in a supply closet. As Torbjörn began setting up automated defenses, the patrons began bombarding Jack with questions. It hadn't taken long for the guests to get into a tizzy after the event was cancelled and the room blockaded.
Representative Petras spoke to Jack. "Jack! What's this all about? Don't tell me this is some sort of sting operation." He face was intense but clearly unnerved.
"You've read the data on Talon," Jack responded, "Honestly, I was surprised so many of you came. I can't say you were never in danger, but I can say we certainly planned for this." Obviously, no one was pleased to be present in this situation, but everyone was also confident in the security measures being taken.
Jack rallied his troops together. "All right team, priority number one is keeping the people here safe. Torbjörn's defenses are sure to suppress any incoming threats, but it's up to us to ensure these people aren't harmed."
Reyes grunted. "Talon doesn't stand a chance," he scoffed, "If they even get in here, they'll be walking into a massacre."
"Right," Morrison stuttered, "But we need to take preemptive action…"
Just then there was an electrical surging noise, and then the lights went out. It was nearly pitch black in the auditorium until the flickers of phones illuminated the room. Morrison switched on the flashlight attached to his rifle providing some light.
"In the dark," Winston calmly stated, "Our odds of resisting a surprise attack are significantly lessened."
Morrison turned to Lena. "Tracer, catch!" He tossed a pair of goggles at her.
Struggling to grasp the object in the dark, a bewildered Lena asked, "What are these?"
"Night vision goggles," Jack stated, "I want you to get the power up and running. Winston, help map her route."
"Of course, sir," he responded. Lena also nodded eagerly.
"As I was going to say," Jack continued, "Reyes and I will be flanking the enemy force. With any luck it shouldn't take long to clear them out." Morrison looked to Reyes who shrugged uncomfortably.
"If anything goes sideways here," Reyes grumbled, "Try to signal us, so we can cover the exits." Jack nodded.
"Everybody got that?" Morrison asked. No one made motion to suggest otherwise. "Great. Let's move out." So they all went to complete their tasks.
Morrison and Reyes went over to the side of the auditorium. A few feet off the ground was a ventilation shaft that they hoped would assist them in subverting the enemy's expectations. Jack and Gabriel were both elite fighting machines, so if their plan of attack succeeded, the Talon mercs would have little room for error.
Reyes examined the vent which was too high to reach unassisted. "Hmmm," he grumbled, "Gonna need something to get up there…"
Jack gave him a puzzled look. "You kidding me? Just boost me."
Reyes shot Morrison an irritable look. He growled, "Ugh, fine." He got down next to the wall, and Morrison stepped onto his back. Reyes slowly stood up and Jack started unhinging the vent cover.
"Damn," Reyes grunted, "You're heavier than I remember. Have you put on weight?"
"No," Jack replied.
Reyes strained to keep his comrade upheld. "You sure?"
"I have bi-weekly physicals," Jack retorted, "I know my weight."
"Oh, right," Reyes chuckled, "You always were a momma's boy."
"Uh, huh," Jack nonchalantly replied, "Realistically, you are probably spending too much time in the basement and that has led to some muscle deterioration."
"God, you even sound like her," Reyes groaned, "Do us all a favor and go live your life outside of Overwatch."
Jack snorted. "And leave your sorry hide in charge?" Jack tossed the vent cover aside. "Not a chance." He crawled into the vent.
"Hey," Reyes called after him, "How am I supposed to get in there?"
"There's a junction up ahead," Jack echoed back, "Let me turn around and then I'll lift you up." It only took a minute and then the two men were face to face in the vent.
"We gonna kiss or are you going to move your ass, Morrison?"
Jack groaned. "Shoulda left you on the ground."
"If it was Angela," Reyes continued, "She would have gotten a kiss."
"No," Jack replied, "I'm not as loose as you are, Reyes."
"Hey," Reyes replied, "Someone has to take advantage of the Overwatch name."
"And I'm sure plenty of con men are," Jack said, "Now let's move." The pair crawled through the vents for some time until they were a good distance away from the central auditorium. Finding another duct, Jack kicked open the vent cover. The two men dropped to the floor; no Talon mercs were in their vicinity.
"Finally," Reyes sighed, "Get to do my job the way I was meant to: with a gun in each hand." He hefted his custom shotguns, grinning ear to ear.
"We should split up," Jack said.
"Agreed," Reyes replied.
Meanwhile, Winston lectured Lena on the pathways to the power room. "And so if you leave by this door and follow this hallway, you should reach the power room with little resistance."
"Ah, thanks," Lena replied, adjusting her night vision goggles, "I don't think there's any chance Talon can stop me now."
Winston smiled. "You had better move quick," he said, "Whatever Talon is doing here, they won't wait around much longer."
"I'll be back in a flash!" she said. Winston pulled the table they were using as a makeshift barricade away from the door. Lena opened the door and then giving a smile and a wave darted into the blackness of the hallway. Winston closed the door behind her.
Proceeding cautiously, Tracer made certain that no Talon mercs were lying in wait nearby. Wherever the goons were, Lena was surprised they hadn't struck yet. Perhaps Talon was just waiting until the team inevitably split apart, but even so, the mercs would then have to worry about the agents taking them by surprise. Lena blinked to the power room as fast as she could.
As she came to the entrance to the room, Tracer found it open. Naturally, she suspected that Talon goons might still be tinkering inside. She peered into the power room through the darkness. Two soldiers were hunched over a circuit breaker. One was trying to access the wires while the other covered him. The covering soldier noticed Tracer's movement and shined his light into the doorway. Lena just barely ducked out of sight.
"Hurry it up," the soldier grumbled, "Don't want to spend any more time here."
Lena exhaled as she prepared to engage the mercs. She slid into the room firing a volley of shots at the soldiers. One soldier ducked to cover on the left while the other spun away to the right.
"It's Tracer!" one soldier shouted, "Lock her down."
Tracer kicked the soldier out of cover. Having been thoroughly outmaneuvered, the two soldiers hefted their rifles and began firing sporadically at her. Lena blinked away from the shots and returned fire, putting the Talon mercs back on the defensive. The goons heard her footsteps to the front of the room. One of the soldiers jumped out from his hiding spot. He fired a few random rounds, but Tracer was already somewhere else. From behind, Lena grappled that soldier. She gave him a good smack on the helmet and tossed him into a corner. Then the other soldier, who witnessed this, thought he had a good opportunity to strike. He tossed a primed electrical grenade at Tracer. Lena smiled coyly as she rewound through time. The soldier was dismayed and then spun around in shock as Lena rematerialized behind him. Tracer slammed her foot into the soldier's chest sending him also to the corner. The grenade then exploded electrocuting both soldiers and likely incapacitating them for a long time.
Tracer laughed at how easily the goons had fallen to their own momentum. "Too easy." She blinked to the switch board and began re-engaging the electrical systems. A deep, rumbling sound echoed through the hallways as the power systems were flooded with energy. Lights gradually came to life, and the atmosphere of the venue was restored.
At that time, Winston and Torbjörn were awaiting a Talon assault. When the light was restored, everyone in the auditorium was relieved. Winston predicted a far higher chance of success so long as the Talon mercenaries did not have the cover of darkness. Torbjörn chuckled with delight. "She did it," he said.
"Of course," Winston replied, "I just hope our other companions are having as much luck."
Morrison wasn't surprised when the power returned; he had full confidence in his agents. That said, he was beginning to feel uneasy as he stalked the empty halls of the venue. Jack hadn't encountered one sign of Talon soldier thus far, and that frightened him a little. Considering the possibility that Talon had outmaneuvered Overwatch once again was disturbing. Instead of prolonging that line of thinking, he opted to check in with Reyes.
Jack tapped his earpiece. "Reyes, what's your status? Any sign of the enemy?"
The was a moment of static which was then filled by Reyes' delighted voice. "I'm fine ya old coot," he grumbled, "And no, I haven't seen any Talon soldiers. Not even a peep."
Jack process the report for a second. "I haven't located any mercs either," he replied, "We should rendezvous with the group in the auditorium."
Reyes sighed. "That's not going to make this any easier. At the very least we need to clear a path for extraction."
"No," Jack responded, "We need to buy time for Ana's team. They'll clear the area for extraction, while we focus on stopping the imminent assault."
"Well, if you haven't noticed," Reyes grunted, "The assault force doesn't appear to be anywhere in this building."
"Wait," Jack said, "Reyes, this place doesn't have any sewer or maintenance tunnels running underneath, does it?"
"Jack," Gabriel sighed, "Don't be ridiculous. Talon would still have to pass through the building if they entered through an underground passage."
Jack mulled his options over. "I'm going to sweep the second level. You make another round of the ground floor before heading back to the auditorium."
"Ugh," Reyes grunted, "Fine."
Meanwhile, Tracer was jubilantly relaying her antics to her comrades. "...and then I shoved the soldier right on top of his own grenade. You might say he was... 'shocked'!" She burst into laughter.
Winston also gave a little chuckle, but Torbjörn and Reinhardt did not find Lena so amusing. "Lena," Torbjörn said, "That may literally be the worst joke you've ever told."
"Well," Reinhardt added, "Let's not be so hasty. Remember the joke about Switzerland's flag?"
"Oh!" Torbjörn cried, "I had nearly removed that one from my memory."
"Ah, you bums," Tracer retaliated, "You don't find anything funny unless you're five beers in anyways."
"Not true!" Reinhardt said, "I find a great many things funny, like how Torbjörn is so short…"
"Hey!" Torb shouted.
"...or Lena's singing in the shower…"
"What?" Tracer cried.
"...or the number of guns Reyes keeps in storage."
"That is quite peculiar," Winston nodded.
Just then everyone, aside from Reinhardt, began hearing ringing and static through their earpieces. At first the burst of noise was alarming, but nothing decipherable seemed to be coming through. Winston attempted to adjust the piece to receive the signal properly. Whatever communique was being broadcast, no one could understand what was relayed.
"What?" Reinhardt asked in confusion, "Why does everyone have these weird faces?"
"Ow, this ringing," Tracer moaned, "This isn't funny!"
"I think someone is trying to communicate," Winston said, "But it seems the signal is being jammed."
"Ack," Torbjörn cried, "Can anyone make out the transmission? I can't hear anything." Torbjörn jerked the earpiece out of his head.
"Hold on," Winston said, "I think I hear something." Winston got a puzzled look on his face as he concentrated.
"May I?" Reinhardt said, extending a hand to his Swedish friend.
"Ah, take it," Torb resigned, "I can't stand these finicky gadgets anyways."
Reinhardt put the earpiece next to his ear. This is what they heard, "Rep...t .ha tal.n….erativ… ar. ent….. on the r..f… I repeat … Talon soldiers ….. the roof. Prepare for breach!"
Winston recapped, "Talon soldiers? The roof?"
Reinhardt shouted, "I know that voice! It seems that Ana is trying to warn us of an imminent attack!"
Then a short but mighty explosion resounded from overhead. Before anyone could react, bits of debris were falling from the ceiling. Torbjörn's turrets began firing wildly into the air. The steady pops of the automated guns were met with ka-chunks from the heights. Tiny canisters launched by the Talon soldiers littered the auditorium. Some of the canisters trailed thick smoke and began obscuring the room while others released electrical discharges to disable the defense systems. The whole room went into a panic.
Torbjörn shouted, "Their ruining all my hard work! Let's show them what we can do!" He raised his rivet gun and began firing madly into the hole in the ceiling. Shouting could be heard on the roof. Ropes suddenly descended from the opening, and Talon mercs began dropping into the auditorium.
"To arms, my friends!" Reinhardt shouted. He and the stout Swede led the charge into the dense clouds of smog.
The number of soldiers that had poured into the auditorium far outweighed the Overwatch team, but that wasn't enough to demoralize them. In the disarray and chaos, some of the Talon mercs slid to their deaths as Tracer blasted away at the descending troops. Winston began working crowd control. He leapt across the room, electrifying groups of Talon men all at once and battering some as he went. Torbjörn was running his forge up to maximum as he coated the Talon soldiers with molten rivets. Meanwhile Reinhardt was having the time of his life.
Reinhardt plowed through several unsuspecting soldiers. Then, a short distance away, he saw two Talon fiends pointing their weapon at a group of innocent politicians. "You know," he said as he approached the soldiers from behind, "there's one thing that I find funnier than anything else." He laid his enormous hands on the helmets of the Talon goons. "That's when people look at me and still think that a criminal life is a good idea." Reinhardt slammed the two heads together, knocking both soldiers unconscious. He examined the terrified patrons. "Get to cover!" he shouted, "This will be over soon."
One of the group shouted, "Watch out!"
Reinhardt swiveled around. Several more Talon soldiers fast approached. Glancing around, Reinhardt moved to a nearby table. The wooden frame was nothing to the huge German man, and he hefted it into the air easily. With a thunderous roar, Reinhardt sent the table flying. The next thing the Talon goons knew, they were sprawled out on the floor under the splinters of the table. Reinhardt chuckled happily.
Before long Winston realized that there were too many Talon soldiers to handle and more were still pouring in from the roof. Tracer was also having a strenuous time keeping with the flow. Winston called out to Lena, "Tracer! We have to cut off their entrance!"
Lena's eyes went from Winston to the hole in the ceiling, "Right! You thinkin' what I'm thinkin'?"
"I certainly hope so!" Winston shouted.
Lena readied one of her infamous pulse bombs. Winston came alongside her and took her in his hand. "Here we go!" he shouted. He leapt high into the air nearly reaching the ceiling and then hurled Tracer beyond his reach.
Lena felt her adrenaline rush as she zoomed through the air. "Whoo!" she exuberantly cried. She popped through the gap in the ceiling and into the clear night. There were at least a dozen more Talon soldiers waiting. The mercs were astonished to see the slick British lady floating through their new entryway. "Hiya!" Tracer gave a little wave and a wink as she hurled the now active pulse bomb into the crowd. In only a split second, she recalled to the ground.
A fiery explosion sent more debris to the floor, but the Talon breach had certainly been cut off. "Nice job," Winston lauded.
"Aw, thanks, love!" Tracer replied. She then returned to harassing the enemy with her pistols.
At the same time, Dr. Ziegler had become disconcerted by the battle. The surprise, the smoke, and the hostilities horrified Angela. She was clinging almost as tightly to Celia as she was to her. Out of the smog, a Talon soldier came striding up to them, his mask aglow with burning crimson lights. He raised his rifle.
Just then, Torbjörn came flying through the air, his hammer aloft. The Swede crashed onto the soldier and swung his hammer into the soldier's helm. Angela turned away and covered Celia's eyes as Torb brutalized the merc. Torbjörn shouted furiously as he finished the soldier off. He turned to Angela. "Are you alright?" he asked.
Talon interrupted the conversation. A flashbang grenade burst right in front of them. All of them were blinded and could barely hear. Angela felt a cold, plated arm forcefully shove her aside. She tumbled to the ground, unable to orient herself. While incapacitated, she could just make out the masked voices of the soldiers.
"Move, move! To the exit!" one shouted.
"Grab anyone you can on the way out!" another said.
As Angela and Torby began coming to, Angela saw a Talon soldier standing over them. He hefted his rifle, probably thinking he should finish the Overwatch personnel that had caused them so much trouble. Angela's head sunk to the floor; in her desperation, she resigned herself to death.
Then Reinhardt came charging through. With one swing of his bulky arms, the soldier went flying across the room. He attempted to assist his friends, lifting Torby to his feet and then taking Angela by the hand. As she snapped out of her daze, Angela looked around herself.
In an anguished but exhausted voice, she cried, "Reinhardt, they took the girl."
The pain in Angela's voice cause Reinhardt to give pause. "What?" he wanted Angela to reiterate.
"They took Celia!" Angela cried, "The little girl I was sheltering."
With those words Reinhardt's spirit was truly ignited. Evil doers causing trouble was one things, but harming innocent children was a despicable matter. Reinhardt's flaming eyes shot to the doors where the Talon mercs had pushed out of the auditorium, and he bolted away.
While the commotion in the auditorium was ongoing, Jack and Reyes were not being ignorant. At the moment the Talon soldiers breached, Jack was attempting to find access to the roof on the second floor. However, by the time he had located the hatch, Tracer had already cleared the problem. In the meantime Jack radioed Reyes, telling him to position himself to cut off the enemy's escape at the rear of the venue while he covered the front. Tracer then managed to get a report to the Commander.
"Talon men have taken hostages, and it looks like they're head to the back of the building," Lena said, "We've still got a few holdouts here. Can you deal with this?"
Jack replied in the affirmative. "Reyes should already be in position. I'll make my way down there quickly."
Then Ana halted him. "Jack!" she called through the coms.
"Ana?" Jack replied, "Where have you been? We lost communication for some time."
"I just managed to make my way to the roof next door to the venue," Ana said, "The signal seems strong enough here to break through."
"Good," Morrison said, "Can you get eyes on the rear of the facility? Talon is moving in that direction."
"Wait, Jack, that's what I wanted to say," she continued, "I overheard Tracer's report, but there are more Talon soldiers readying in front of the venue. Too many for me to handle alone."
"Dammit!" Jack swore, "Alright, get eyes on the rear. I'll deal with the front."
"Wait! Jack!" Ana's voice trailed as Jack turned her nagging out.
Jack Morrison made his way to a window overlooking the street at the front of the venue. Outside he could see at least twenty Talon mercs if not more, prepping their guns and grabbing gear from their vans. Now was the time to strike while they were still unorganized. Jack exhaled as he hefted his trusty pulse rifle to his shoulder. With one hand he tapped the side of his head and the characteristic humming and light shone across his field of view. The tactical visor locked on to every man's heat signature detected outside. Without reluctance, Jack squeezed the trigger.
Pa, pa, pa, pa, pa, pa, pa! A stream of shots burst through the window and into the street. Jack handled his weapon perfectly, adjusting to every bounce of recoil. Clip after clip was emptied from his gun, and casings covered the ground. Jack watched first hand as his enemies were riddled with bullets. Soon every soldier in the street was a corpse stuffed with lead.
At that same time, Reyes had made his way into the halls at the back of the venue. As he came around the bend leading to the exit, he was greeted by a host of Overwatch strike team members. They lined the hall and were in prime position to halt Talon's escape. Revealing himself to the soldiers, he walked past them to the rear and conversed with the team leader.
"When did you guys get here?" Reyes asked.
"We're a part of Ana's team, sir," replied the officer, "Once we broke the assault, she sent us to cover the exits at the back of the building."
"Ah, I get it," Reyes said, "I'll be here for support then." He readied his shotguns. The officer nodded. Gabriel Reyes knew exactly what he had to do next. He was not averse to the idea, but still a tiny, moral part of him had to be crushed. In all his years of service, nothing had satisfied the desires and aspirations of Reyes, so he had to carve a new path. Logically, this path would be the one to sate his most deep-seeded emotions: resentment, jealousy, hatred, and a longing for power. Even so, Gabe told himself that he would regret his actions, that there were days with Overwatch that he would pine over. Reyes knew those shadows to be lies. Overwatch had only delivered him sorrow and suffering. Now it was their turn.
Gabriel stood up, aimed his gun, and blasted the head of the Overwatch officer clean off. Before anyone could think twice, Reyes was already unloading the entirety of his clips into the other squad members. The Overwatch soldiers shook violently with every blast of buckshot. The brave men screamed in pain as their commander turned on them. Reyes looked on in delight as each soldier struggled against death to cling to life for another precious moment. The ecstatic pleasure of pure vengeance for all those wasted years culminated in Reyes' mind as he circulated that single word to himself: die, die, die!
As it ended, smoke trailed from the heated frames of Reyes' shotguns. The smell of gunpowder and blood swirled in his flared nostrils. All the power that had been used against him, to embarrass him, had been returned to Gabriel's hands. He threw his guns to the ground. At the thought of his horrendous act, Gabriel couldn't help but chuckle. Then the laugh grew and became something more sinister. Reyes was not longer a puppet but the puppeteer of death; nevertheless, he still had a role to play.
"Better make this believable," he mumbled to himself. He plopped down on the wall next to one of the dead Overwatch operatives. Reyes pulled out his sidearm and shot himself in the leg. Reyes had been shot many times before, but pulling the trigger himself didn't make this any easier. Dark, pungent blood pooled around his leg. Soon one of the agents would arrive and be forced to tend to Reyes' injuries.
Gabriel then heard a number of footsteps approaching his direction. A group of Talon soldiers accompanied by bound hostages rounded the corner. Reyes stared blankly as the crimson masks walked by without a care. They forced the hostages along; most had their eyes covered and hands tied. One Talon merc had a kid slung over his shoulder. Gabriel didn't think twice about it. The soldiers escorted their quarry out the back exit without any resistance.
One of the soldiers at the rear of the company stopped to speak with Reyes for a moment. "You did well, Gabriel," the soldier said through his helmet. Reyes nodded, his eyes glazing over. Gabriel's skin was turning a pale grey, and he looked delirious. "The boss says he will uphold his end of the bargain," the soldier went on, "We owe you a debt, Reyes. Talon will repay you."
Reyes grunted and then motioned the soldier along. The group of terrorists disappeared from sight, and Reyes continued waiting in the blood he had spilt. After a minute had passed, Gabriel heard the unmistakeable stomping of Reinhardt. The German man came barreling down the hall, in a hurry to catch the Talon men. He didn't even notice Reyes suffering in his own blood as he burst out of the venue and into the cool night.
Reinhardt glanced around. The Talon fiends had clearly gone down the alley; their vehicles were likely waiting at the other end. Reinhardt charged after them with reckless abandon. The Talon mercs, however, did not want further troubles, so several men lied in wait. When Reinhardt ran through the alley, one soldier jumped onto his back putting the giant into a headlock. Another man gave Reinhardt a smack on the face with the butt of his rifle. The group of soldiers punched, beat, and brutalized the noble warrior and then cast him aside into the dirty trash and water piled in the alleyway. One soldier raised his rifle.
"No," another one discouraged, "The boss says none of the agents die."
The soldier lowered his gun, giving a grunt in response.
"The old man's done; he's trash anyways," said the other.
The men walked away, leaving Reinhardt to wallow in his defeat. After the beating, Reinhardt was stunned. Losing to a bunch of cowards in such a crucial moment was humiliating. His spirit was so crushed, Reinhardt thought he might die. He was completely lost. When all hope was gone, Reinhardt heard footsteps. A face came into view, but he could barely see due to the lighting in the alley.
"Oh, Reinhardt, what have they done to you?" a familiar voice asked.
"Ana? Is that you?" Reinhardt struggled to speak, "Oh, this must be heaven if you're here. Tell me we fought valiantly." As he lay feebly on the ground, Ana knelt beside him.
Ana laughed softly. "You're not dead yet," she said. Ana took a biotic healing grenade and pulled the pin. A surge of nano-biotic energy, preceeded by a short pneumatic release, enveloped the two agents. Reinhardt's body was restored, but his pride remained wounded.
The German man slowly got to his feet. Though the lovely Ana had come to his aid, his face was somber. "I have failed," Reinhardt sighed.
"Do not lose hope yet," Ana said with a smile, "There's still time!" She flashed the wrist launcher on her arm.
Reinhardt's courage returned once he understood. He nodded, saying, "I am ready!"
Ana leapt behind Reinhardt, swirling her cloak as she did. "Get in there!" she said as the boost injection pierced him. Suddenly, Reinhardt was sprinting like never before. The Talon soldier looked behind to see what was amiss. An enormous man was barreling towards them radiating with energy.
"Can we kill him now?" a soldier shouted. They began firing.
As Reinhardt charged, the bullets impacting him were refracted by the tremendous energies pulsating through his body. The other Talon soldiers saw the threat and hopped into their vans. The men continued firing to no avail. The soldiers in the van behind them started yelling, telling the others to get in. After several volleys of fire, the Talon mercs fell back, jumping into the back of the van. The doors slammed shut. Each van revved up and a few at the front began speeding away. The van at the rear, however, was not so lucky.
Reinhardt threw his hands around the van causing it to shudder. The soldiers inside shouted, and the driver floored the gas. The wheels screeched and burnt, struggling against Reinhardt's strength. The nano technology sent Reinhardt's muscles into overdrive; he appeared almost inhuman. Reinhardt bellowed as he raised the van off its back wheels. The tires now spun free, but the van could not move. Inside the Talon men struggled to brace themselves. Reinhardt shouted angrily and then tossed the van on its side. Glass shattered and sparks flew as the vehicle slid along the cement. The rear doors opened, and the contents of the van came spilling out.
One bloodied soldier crawled out of the van. His vestments dragged through shards of glass and metal, and he coughed violently as the pain of the crash caught up to him. Having little sense of self preservation, he reached for a rifle cast on the ground in front of him. The soldier drudgingly pulled himself forward. As his stained glove touched the metallic frame, a boot stamped firmly upon the gun. He slowly gazed upward at the shadowy figure above him.
The figure raised a sidearm. "Lights out."
A SHORT TIME LATER...
The police and medical teams arrived well after the chaos had ended. The city sector had taken some heavy hits; plenty of structures had sustained damage. Fires had broken out; traffic accidents had occurred; people had died. On a night that was supposed to be a celebration of Overwatch's legacy, that legacy had suffered a great tarnishing. Though some at the time would describe the agents' efforts as commendable, this scandal would certainly not be the last to disgrace Overwatch. Talon had embarrassed them and taken some valuable personnel. Among those kidnapped by Talon were a number of Overwatch scientists possessing sensitive data on Overwatch's projects including the reactor.
Strike-Commander Morrison was finishing giving a report to the local authorities. In all the aftermath, he barely had time to check in with his agents, but he was able to provide his oversight on the events. An officer took notes as Jack dictated.
As he completed the report, the officer said, "Thank you, sir. We'll be sure to contact Overwatch if anything else should come up."
Jack simply nodded, not feeling any sense of responsibility to the local law enforcement. That kind of jurisdiction was the least of his worries. The world's governments and the UN posed a far more real danger to Overwatch. If they so desired, Overwatch could be shut down, and Jack didn't think Overwatch's performance as of late had been up to snuff. Beyond that, Talon was becoming an international power. The world would live under fear of their terrorism so long as Overwatch couldn't stop them. Then there were other individual grievances.
The distraught Representative Petras approached Jack. "Jack!" he sounded terrified, "Do you know where my daughter is?"
Jack's mind flooded with anguish so intense he wanted to vomit. He was too seasoned to believe this conversation would end well "I left her with my agents in the auditorium," he calmly replied.
"I…" he stuttered, "I didn't see her in there."
Jack smeared his hand across his face. "Allow me to check in with my agents then," Jack said lacking any energy. "Ah, here comes a few now." Dr. Ziegler was accompanying the injured Gabriel Reyes as two other EMTs carted him along. "Angela," he called, "Can I have a word?"
Angela told the technicians to wait. She walked up to them. "Is everything alright?" she asked.
Jack maintained a professional, calm demeanor. "Do you know where Celia is?"
Angela looked at Jack and then at Petras. Immediately she deduced the situation. If there was something worse than telling a person that their loved one was dead, it would be this: the person's child was kidnapped. Angela became very quiet. "Sir," she addressed the representative, "I…"
"No!" Petras cried, "Don't you say it! Don't you dare say it!" He franticly ran his hands through his hair as he inhaled haphazardly. His eyes welled up with tears and he bit his lip. "Dammit," he mumbled curses under his breath.
Angela had tears forming in her own eyes. "I'm sorry," Angela whispered, "We were taken by surprise. I…"
"Stop. I don't want to hear it!" Petras shouted. He began weeping. "My daughter!" he cried, "Celia!" He broke down and collapsed to his knees.
Jack had a wrinkled forehead and a big frown on his face, but he couldn't tear up in a place like this. "You can go," he said to Angela. She barely nodded, tears dripping from her face. When Angela got back to Gabriel, Reyes questioned her about the commotion.
Jack didn't have a way to magically solve the problem, so he tried to console Petras. "Hey," he said, "We'll bring your daughter back."
Petras shot up and grabbed Jack's shoulders. "You'd better bring her back!" he shouted through tears, "You have to bring her back, Goddammit!" He struggled to speak as he cried. "You people were everything to her!"
Just then, Reyes called out to them. "Hey!" he said as laid on the stretcher. Jack and Petras looked to him. "You WILL get your daughter back." Gabriel said that with a most intense and serious face. Petras released Jack and nodded slowly. Then Angela walked away with Gabriel.
Two more agents, Lena and Winston, came walking up next. "What's all the commotion about?" Lena asked.
Jack responded in a somber tone. "Celia's been taken."
"Oh no!" Winston cried.
"Wh… what?" a bewildered Tracer reiterated her confusion, "You mean Talon took Celia?" Suddenly she was in a panic, her face flushed red. "Wha… what are we standing around here for then!? Why aren't we out there? We should be going after her!"
Jack sighed. "Lena…"
"Someone saw the vans, right?" Tracer shouted, "They have to be on cameras or have left a trail or something! We just need to map it out! I'll go after them! I can catch them."
"Lena, that kind of thing takes time," Jack said.
"Jack!" Lena winced as she attempted to hold back tears. "We have to do something! C'mon!" she screamed, "You have to tell me the plan! You know where they're taking her, don't you?" She locked her pained eyes with Morrison's.
"I'm sorry," was all he could say.
"No!" she cried. Lena started hitting Jack. "C'mon, Jack! We… have to… save… Celia!" Her punches weakened rapidly as she began to cry openly.
Jack cradled Lena's head. He nearly choked up seeing one of his agents so broken. "It's okay," he mumbled unbelievingly, "It's gonna be okay. She'll be okay." Jack could barely stand this; his heart was breaking.
Then they heard the soft rumbling of Reinhardt's laugh. "Don't despair so much my friends," he said, "I think one of these unkempt gentlemen would be happy to tell you where the Talon fiends have gone." Two soldiers were bundled in Reinhardt's arms. He grinned as he tossed their unconscious bodies onto the ground. Morrison looked over the limp Talon mercs. A spark of hope ignited within him. At that moment Jack knew the war with Talon was just beginning.