Chapter 2: Seeking Answers
The moment his battalion returned to the Talon headquarters in France, Amos went directly to the barracks and shut the door behind him. After quickly looking around to make sure he was alone in the room, he removed his helmet and sat down on his bed.
I need to get out of here, Amos thought. He got up and began ambling around the barracks, scratching his head furiously. I can't be a killer. I need to grab some things and—and—can I get somewhere safe? There's got to be somewhere safe where they won't find me!
He stopped.
Like what? he thought with a sigh. Where would I even go? Talon's global, they'll hunt me down…and I can't just put whoever I'd be with in the kind of danger Talon brings. But I am really not eager to have two shotguns the size of a person's arm pointed in my face again.
Amos resumed pacing about erratically, mind still racing and nervous noises still emitting from his clenched teeth. He came to another abrupt stop when an aggressive series of knocks came from the door.
"Hey, Clemens!" someone—most likely another Talon soldier—yelled from outside. "The hell are you doing in there?"
Without a second of thought, Amos yanked the door open and came face-to-helmet with the Talon grunt.
"What is it?!" Amos nearly screamed, adrenaline shooting through his body. The Talon grunt paused. The disheveled-looking Amos was once again breathing heavily.
"Uh…nothing," the grunt said as he slowly backed away. "It's nothing, go ahead and go back to…whatever you were doing."
The grunt left, soon joining up with a group of his comrades. Amos, still panting, began to close the door as the murmurs of the other grunts' drifted into his ears.
"Man, that new guy is messed up."
"Did you hear what he did to that house in Dorado?"
"I don't know about you, but I'm staying clear of him."
Amos shut the door completely, and his heavy breathing ceased. For a moment, he simply stood there, a hand on the door.
They thought he was insane. They thought he was violent and unhinged…and, as far as he could tell, they weren't entirely wrong about the latter.
He sat back down on his bed, picking up his helmet and staring into its blood red eyes.
If I don't die here, I really will go crazy, Amos thought with a sigh. Maybe…maybe I can take advantage of what the others think of me? Yeah. Yeah, that guy left me alone…maybe the rest will leave me alone long enough for me to figure out what to do. Maybe.
Ilios, Greece was often described as a picture perfect town. It had everything a tourist could want: exotic sights in the forms of ruins and nature trails, delightful rest areas, and a booming business in the local harbor. The harbor's market, in particular, was a well-frequented attraction.
"Fresh fruit here!" a merchant declared, showing off a dozen crates of apples, oranges, and everything in between. "Could anyone use a quick snack to keep them going today?"
A tourist stopped, and with a shrug, went to the stand. Others continued to pass by. Some were normal sights, like a man in a brown coat who dragged along a wheeled suitcase. Others were a tad different, like a young girl in a tunic with shoulder-length brown hair and what seemed to be a quarterstaff strapped to her back.
"Sure, I'll bite," the tourist said, and after a quick exchange of currency, he held a fresh apple in his hand. The tourist then set the apple down on one of the other crates while he rummaged through his backpack for a camera, but by time he got it out, the apple had vanished. "What? Could've sworn I put the apple right there."
"Ah, must've rolled away in the wind, it happens," the merchant shrugged. "Tell you what, I'll give you another one for free."
The tourist agreed, and got the apple-eating selfie he so craved. Meanwhile, the girl with the quarterstaff strolled down the street, taking the first bite of the original apple. With a nonchalant smile, she glanced around her town. So many potential targets, so few hours in the day. But, she always did love a challenge.
"Tonight, on A Moment in Crime!" a nearby television blurted out, followed by the sound of an explosion. "Their spree of mayhem and chaos has caused untold millions in property damage around the world!"
The girl stopped to glance at the screen, taking another bite of her apple in the process. The program showed police officers with bell-shaped helmets chasing down a rather peculiar sight: two men, one a heavyset brute and the other as thin as the girl's staff, riding a ramshackle chopper motorcycle complete with a smiley-faced sidecar. Both men seemed to be covered in random debris, with the thin man adding a large tire to his back to go with the rotund one's pig-like gas mask.
"But who are these two deranged Junkers?" the narrator asked. "And what inspired their orgy of destruction?"
"Heh, orgy," the girl snickered as she took another bite of her apple.
"Is this the look of master criminals?" the narrator asked, the television now showing a closer-up image of the two men. The frail one was now throwing quite a few bombs about without a care in the world, sticking his tongue out at the camera as well. "Or just a couple of idiots?"
Next, a mug shot for each man appeared on the screen. The first was the frail one, with his wild hair seemingly on fire at the ends and a dazed expression on his face. A list of information appeared beside him, listing an alias of "Junkrat", a real name of "Jamison Fawkes", a height of six feet and five inches, and a weight of 155 pounds. Also on the list seemed to be his set of skills, such as explosives, arson, demolition, and barbecue.
"Here's Junkrat," the narrator continued, "the mastermind in this string of attacks that has stretched from the Australian outback to King's Row and beyond."
As if to demonstrate these claims, the next scene showed a cluster of bombs—each with a Cheshire grin painted on—attached to a large safe, which exploded rather violently once the bombs' timer hit zero.
"Now, this explosives-obsessed freak has his sights set on even greater acts of destruction," the narrator declared dramatically.
"Huh," the girl hummed. "Should try and meet the guy. Always wanted to learn how to do bombs."
Junkrat's explosion led to the other man's mug shot. This one was known as Mako Rutledge, alias "Roadhog", reaching seven feet and three inches and weighing in at a hefty 550 pounds. His crimes appeared to be armed robbery, kidnapping, extortion, and theft.
"His co-conspirator, Roadhog, is a remorseless killer who hides his face behind a mask," the narrator continued, still attempting to make the most mundane words sound like the stuff of novels. "This giant of a man is more than happy to use violence to resolve any situation."
Roadhog's most recent act, if the next scene shown was any indication, was to rip away the back doors of an ice cream truck by use of his own tool: a long chain ending in a massive hook.
"I could use one of those," the girl said calmly as she bit into her apple once more. The next shot showed Junkrat and Roadhog's mug shots together, this time without their profile information.
"Together," said the narrator, "they have burned, bombed, robbed, and killed their way across the world, and their calamitous crime spree shows no sign of slowing down."
More examples of the duo's crimes were shown, this time a comparatively small offense of robbing what seemed to be an arcade. Junkrat made off with a collection of beverages, while Roadhog left a crying child behind as he carried a mountain of stuffed animals away.
"Following their first decree of 'no job too big, no score too small', it seems as though there is no end in sight to this senseless rampage," the narrator continued, adding a touch of bitterness to his dramatic tone, "unless we get your help."
"Yeah, not likely," the girl said with a roll of her eyes and another bite.
"If you have any information as to the whereabouts of these two extremely dangerous criminals, you need to contact us right away," the narrator commanded. "Remember: crime doesn't pay, but we do."
To illustrate this point, a multicolored bar slid across the bottom of Junkrat and Roadhog's dual photo, containing the words "CONTACT US TODAY". At the narrator's mention of money, the words changed to "REWARD: $25,000,000". Another explosion crossed the screen, formally ending the A Moment in Crime program.
"Same bribery tactics as always," the girl sighed with yet another apple bite.
She began to walk again, but mere moments after she did so, sirens began to blare loudly. The girl instinctively flattened herself against a wall, quickly managing a lean in an attempt to seem natural. Seconds later, the reason for the sirens blazed past: the same junk-laden chopper A Moment in Crime had just shown, complete with Junkrat and Roadhog themselves. A slew of police cars followed, weaving in and out to avoid a series of bear traps that Junkrat seemed to be throwing behind him.
"That's convenient," the girl muttered. With the police cars out of sight, she continued ambling along, but was quickly interrupted once again, this time by a massive explosion in the direction the police cars were headed.
All the girl could do was let out a low whistle. And then she kept walking.
"KABOOM! Rest in pieces!" a heavy Australian accent called out with a cackle. "Hey, hey, 'Hog! How's this: you really stepped in it, mates! Huh? Huh?"
An disgusted groan was the only response; the girl could barely hear it over the short distance between her and the two criminals. Soon, Junkrat and Roadhog came into view, surrounded by a field of scorched debris and bodies.
"Ah, you're always a tough crowd," Junkrat grumbled as he hobbled his way across the debris with his handmade peg leg. "We'll get to those temples and stuff in a bit, all right? Let's just see what's down here, first. The towns always got good stuff!"
"There's a bank on your left, guys," the girl called out as she casually passed by. The two looked at her like she had grown two heads—though Roadhog's expression was impossible to discern underneath his mask—and she stopped. "What?"
"Hey, hold on, cobber!" Junkrat said as he hobbled over to her. "You look like you got your head screwed on straight! What's your name?"
"Oh, me? Diamantina," the girl replied, still casually eating her apple and now talking with her mouth full. "Friends call me Tina. You guys are Junkrat and Roadhog, right? I just saw a news report about you. I like your bombs."
"Ah, finally! My genius is recognized!" Junkrat cried with an elated throw of his arms. He gave Roadhog a quick elbow in the latter's massive stomach. "See, 'Hog, you could learn a lot from this one!"
Roadhog just heaved a heavy sigh.
"Ah, don't mind him, mate," Junkrat said as he looked back to Tina. "There's a reason I keep him around—and it ain't for the sparklin' conversation. Say, uh, you said there was a bank around here?"
"Right there," Tina gestured with her apple to the building across the street from them.
"Ooh, it's a nice big one!" Junkrat cackled. "Tell you what—Tina, right?—let's celebrate our new friendship by havin' you do the honors!"
He held up a small, smiley-faced bomb. Tina's eyes lit up.
"Ooh, yeah! Hold this for me," she replied as she tossed Roadhog her apple. She took the bomb from Junkrat and placed it next to her on the street.
"Hey, uh, that's not supposed to be what you do with a—" Junkrat stopped himself when he saw Tina pull out her quarterstaff and position it next to the bomb in the way one would a golf club next to the ball. "Oh-ho-ho, I like your style!"
"FORE!" Tina yelled as she swung the staff, sending the bomb sailing into the front doors of the bank and triggering a blast that threw them right off their hinges. "Ha! That was awesome!"
"Hoo, yeah! Hole in one!" Junkrat agreed. "Well, nice meetin' ya, mate, but time is money and we're flat broke!"
"All right, man, take care," Tina said before looking to Roadhog. "You still got my…"
Roadhog was busy chewing rather loudly underneath his mask. Tina raised an eyebrow.
"Uh…did you eat the apple I gave you?" she asked.
Roadhog nodded.
"…the core, too?"
Roadhog nodded again. Tina stared for a moment before eventually shrugging.
"Eh, whatever, I can get more," she said. "You keep it."
Roadhog gave her a thumbs-up before following Junkrat into the opened bank. The two disappeared inside, leaving Tina alone.
Love meeting my kind of people, Tina thought with a smile as she went on her way. She had barely taken three steps, however, before she was made to stop again. Ugh, now what?
This time, it was the sound of thunder. Tina looked up with a furrowed brow; there wasn't a cloud in the sky today. Where was the thunder coming from?
Suddenly, Roadhog catapulted out of the bank's open doorway, crashing through a shop window near Tina. Leftover electricity was coursing across his body, but that failed to stop Mako Rutledge from rising to his feet and preparing his hook.
"Hey! Hands off the merchandise!" Junkrat's cries could be heard from the bank. "Get out of my face, ya drongo!"
With a scream, Junkrat also came sailing out, landing directly in the street.
"Well, that's a fine how-do-you-do!" Junkrat snapped as he scrambled to his feet.
More thunder rumbled as their attacker revealed itself: a tall male figure in a blue-and-black bodysuit, electricity pulsing through the wires woven into the suit's material. The man's face was obscured by a mask vaguely resembling a blue motorcycle helmet with a blacked-out visor and lightning markings running across it. Aside from the long white scarf the man wore, there was no way to truly identify him at first glance. But Tina spotted an emblem on each shoulder, specifically a grey circle with two prongs emerging from the bottom corners to meet in the middle underneath an orange top portion.
And that sight made her grip on her staff tighten.
"Careful, guys," Tina growled. "He's Overwatch."
"That right? Cheers, mate," Junkrat replied. "Like I always say, if at first you don't succeed…"
He pulled his bomb-laden tire off of his back and set it on the ground in front of him, aiming the wheel directly at the mysterious Overwatch agent.
"BLOW IT UP AGAIN!" Junkrat finished as he pulled a cord on his tire.
The cord triggered a motor within the tire, which began barreling and bouncing towards the masked agent, but electricity suddenly began coursing violently through the wires on his suit. The man suddenly leapt onto the wall and off again, springing into the air and dodging Junkrat's tire with ease and allowing it to explode harmlessly behind him. Meanwhile, the electricity in the man's legs increased in intensity, sparking off and forming a steadily-growing orb of lightning around his right foot.
"Get clear!" Roadhog growled, grabbing Tina by the torso and throwing her as far away as he could muster. His strength sent her a good few feet, but not far enough away to prevent her from seeing what happened next.
"THUUNDEERRR!" the unknown agent bellowed as the lightning around his foot reached a zenith. Then, a set of tubes on his arms released a burst of electricity that propelled him forward. "STRRIIIIIIIIKKKKKKKEEEE!"
The Overwatch agent rocketed down towards the Junker duo with alarming speed, quickly crashing into the ground between them and releasing a short wave of lightning from the impact. Tina was just out of range, but the sparks immediately shorted out all electrical appliances nearby, up to and including street lights and shop signs. When the smoke cleared, the agent in the mask stood in a massive crater, with an half-conscious and electrified criminal duo at his feet.
"Junkrat!" Tina cried out, eyes wide. "Roadhog!"
She pulled out her staff again and quickly pole vaulted forth, simultaneously pulling what appeared to be a bola with tasers strapped to each of the connected spheres. Tina quickly threw her bola at the Overwatch agent, and while he easily dodged by hopping backwards, the street urchin herself came hurtling at him seconds later with a flurry of wild quarterstaff swings.
"Wait! Calm down!" the agent cried, dodging and blocking Tina's strikes at every opportunity. "I mean you no harm!"
"Screw you, asshole!" Tina barked as she pressed her attack. She aimed a swing at the operative's legs, but he agilely back-flipped out of the way.
"Those men are criminals," the Overwatch agent pointed out. Tina swung again, but this time the masked man caught the staff and held on, adding his other hand when the streetwise girl tried to pull it back. "You shouldn't associate with people like them!"
"What, so you're the better one?!" Tina snapped. "What I do with my life isn't your call, old man!"
"But there must be people who care about you!" the agent cried. "People who want you to succeed in life instead of loitering about on the streets!"
"SHUT! UP! YOU! STUPID! OLD! BASTARD!" Tina yelled, yanking on her staff with every word until she ripped it out of the agent's hands. Then, she brought it around for another attack. "GO TO HELL, WATCHBAIT!"
"Please, stop this!" the man pleaded, returning to blocking and dodging. "There's no need for anger here!"
"Oh, trust me, there's plenty of need for anger," Tina growled. "Especially considering the logo you're wearing."
The man glanced at his shoulder, where the Overwatch emblem resided.
"…I see," he said. "If you don't mind my asking—"
"I do mind," Tina growled, thrusting her staff towards the agent's stomach, only for him to dodge and knock the weapon out of her hands. "Hey!"
"Miss," the agent said as he put his hands on both of Tina's shoulders. "If you have reason to believe that Overwatch did you some grievous wrong, then I apologize. But, the world needs the sort of heroes Overwatch brought forth now more than ever. And, someday, they may realize where they went wrong with you and make every effort to correct that."
"What do you mean 'they' will do that?" Tina asked, tilting her head to the side. "You're one of them."
"In a sense," the man said as he removed his hands. "But, for now, I must be off. There's much for me to do."
With a quick salute, the supposed Overwatch agent dashed away, his electricity carrying him faster than most human bodies would allow. Tina gave his retreating form a puzzled look before turning to the fallen Junkrat and Roadhog.
"Here, guys," the street urchin said as she pulled out what seemed to be a mine with a medical red cross haphazardly painted on, dropping it next to them. "I've got some answers to find."
With that, she pole vaulted after the mysterious masked agent, running down the street in the direction he was headed: Ilios' harbor. Once she was there, however, a crowd of people ensured that the man in blue was nowhere to be found.
But a man in a brown coat with a rather large wheeled suitcase was quite visible.
"Hey, you!" Tina called, putting the end of her staff in the man's way. "You see a sparkly guy in blue run through here?"
The man blanched for a moment, but recovered quickly.
"I'm sorry, Miss, I don't think I can help you," he said rather hurriedly as he brushed his way past. "I would think I'd remember an outlandish sight as that."
The man worked his way to a boat, where he quickly handed the guard a ticket and was allowed on. Tina frowned.
"You're not getting away that easy, Watchbait," she growled. She clambered up a nearby set of crates, and once the ship began to move, she pole vaulted her way on board.
Overwatch was going to answer for what it did to her if it was the last thing she did.