6:02 AM
CREEKFIELD, NEW MEXICO

"Demoman's gone."

Sniper was standing at the end of the couch, fully dressed. He was whispering.

"What do you mean gone?" Soldier asked. His back was sore from adjusting to the stiffness of Engineer's couch all night. One would think the Texan's furniture would be as comfortable as it looked. Soldier wanted to knock that one's misleading brain right out his skull. Through his or her left ear.

"Just… gone. He went for a walk last night and guess he never came back," Soldier wondered why the Australian was being so quiet. He knew hiding was part of the man's job but remained of the opinion that if one had something to say, they shouldn't try to beat around the bush. Which was exactly what this one was doing.

"Why didn't you stop him? You went out with him, didn't ya?" Soldier pulled himself into a sitting position with a grunt, bare feet rubbing against the plush, beige carpet. It felt kind of weird to be placing his feet on anything but cold tile or concrete after doing so for many years. Comfort living wasn't his cup of joe.

"We had a bit of a spat and he must a' stormed off after I went back inside," Sniper was tapping the toe of his boot against the carpet. Hiding something, but unsure of whether or not he should spill the beans. Soldier ran his hands through his hair.

"What the hell could you two ladies've possibly fought about?" he grumbled, shrugging on his jacket. His belt ends clinked against each other.

"He was suspicious about this place. Actin' real paranoid, ya know? Said somethin' about Engineer…" Sniper's voice dropped lower when he felt he was being too loud, "…not bein' himself. Some sort a' Body-Switchers from Mars shit. I told him he was drunk and actin' like a real nutter. Guess it made him mad enough to up an' leave."

"So you think he left town," Soldier's boots were next. He unrolled his pants from their constricting bunch against his knees and pulled each boot on. The laces were starting to fray, much to his chagrin.

"But the problem is that he couldn't've. Me van's still here and I doubt he hotwired himself some other ride out," the toe-tapping returned, "I'm worried about him, mate."

"Me too, private," Soldier stood up and clapped on his helmet, his field of vision cut in half. Better to focus on the situation at hand. "Is everybody else up?"

"Yeah. They're all in the kitchen right now. Engie too. Says he's gotta leave for work in a few."

"Are we gonna let him?"

"I wanted to ask ya. Are we?"

Soldier thought for a moment. Demoman's suspicions made him question how much he could trust Engineer. Sniper obviously didn't anymore. Trustworthy and hardworking as he might have been, the Texan did jump ship. He was as good as a traitor at the moment. No, he couldn't be trusted. Not until they knew more than he did.

"I don't think we can really stop him. Man's a stubborn bastard; he'll probably just barrel right through us if we try."

"'lright, then. What do ya propose we do now?"

"Wait for Engineer to leave, then we'll plan our next move."


6:48 AM

The door did not slam as Engineer left for work. It merely clicked and gave off the illusion that perhaps it was not fully closed. It was, of course. Spy checked it to be sure after the sounds of Engineer's car faded away.

Because Demoman had disappeared sometime in the night, Heavy found himself keeping careful count of his remaining comrades.

There were four men at the table, and two in the living room.

Medic sat at his left, Spy at his right and Pyro across the table. Sniper had elected to go into the other room and rouse Soldier. Six men out of nine. Too few.

Silver screeched against ceramic as Spy pushed around his scrambled eggs, distaste twisting his lips. Heavy did not think Engineer's cooking was too bad (if anything, it had improved somehow) but perhaps Spy had eaten better before. Heavy did not doubt it.

Medic set his fork down on his napkin, muffling any sound the utensil would have made. His meal was only about half-eaten. Pyro just started down at their plate, still and quiet. Small rasps escaped their mask as they breathed. It seemed Heavy was the only one who had finished the meal.

Sniper and Soldier emerged from the living room silently and pulled up chairs from their places against the wall. Soldier spoke first.

"We have to find Scout."

"What happened to Demoman?" Medic asked, idly pushing his plate away with his index finger.

"We don't know yet," Soldier admitted, "But what we do know is where we can find Scout. If we find him, we may get an idea as to where Demoman might be if he didn't just go back to base."

"Might," Spy echoed glumly.

"It is better than just sitting here like fowl," Heavy said, standing up, "Maybe we should send another group out to find Demoman. Kill to stones with one bird."

No one bothered to correct Heavy. Instead, they stood up nervously. Going down the block to where Scout supposedly lived with his bride-to-be was one thing. Exploring the entire town in search of Demoman was another. This was not a battlefield. It was something far more dangerous.

In the end, the arrangement was for Heavy, Medic, and Sniper to go into town and look for Demoman while Soldier, Spy and Pyro would go try to convince Scout to return with them. Three men to each group. Half of six. Their numbers were getting fewer and fewer.

Engineer's door was left unlocked as nobody had a key to it. Heavy doubted the residents of Creekfield were the type to steal from a neighbor anyways. Everything about them seemed clean from their manners to their shoes. It was supposed to be a hot day, but the glow of the sun seemed to weaken once it reached the pleasantly secluded atmosphere that surrounded Creekfield. Bugs buzzed and trees rustled in a soft breeze while the pavement radiated a comfortable heat.

Medic headed Heavy's group with his brisk pace, hands professionally crossed behind his back. Ahead of the trio, the town center grew taller and taller behind the neat rows of houses. Much like the cars from yesterday, they soon found themselves surrounded by women.

Tall, short, thin, thick. All beautiful, all wearing dresses.

"Sorry," Heavy mumbled when he accidentally knocked sides with a shorter woman. She cast a quick, forgiving and strangely inviting before disappearing into the bustling crowd.

The small group of men reached a storefront displaying pots and pans in the large front window. An idle stream of women passed by in each direction like clockwork. Just the perfect amount of human female to make the streets appear lively but not so much that it became crowded.

"Do we want t'split up further?" Sniper asked, leaning against the display window. The store clerk behind the glass didn't glare at the Australian. He hardly even noticed the inherently dusty outdoorsman pressing his well-worn vest against the window. No, it seemed the clerk had more important things to do like making sure each pan was so clean it could blind an unsuspecting passerby. "This place is a lot bigger than it seems. We'd be able t'cover more ground."

"I am not opposed to it," Medic said.

"Then it is decided," Heavy stretched his great arms. He was a little wary of dividing even further, but he had enough confidence in the abilities of his comrades to hold their own against housewives, "We meet back at house at six."

Sniper nodded and wasted no time in slinking across the street when a gap appeared in the steady procession of commuting cars. When Heavy turned back around, he caught the sight of Medic's back as the German went on his own way.

Heavy lingered under the cookware shop's awning a little longer, vaguely aware that like in Creekfield was progressing around him as if he were a ghost. Slowly, he began to follow Medic's trail, gazing into display windows and glass doors as he went.

Creekfield was stunningly self-sufficient, the energy of a city condensed into a simple desert town. It had supermarkets by the dozen, a towering department store and countless other trades for every which need. The only service Heavy couldn't seem to find was a hospital. He briefly entertained the thought of the people of Creekfield being immortal and having no need for human trivialities like injuries. Perhaps they even had respawn.

This of course, was just plain silly.

Still, the curiosity remained as Heavy turned down an alley to get out of the sunlight for a moment. The warmth of the desert sun could only be so pleasant before it became overbearing.

Even the alley seemed to lack an air of danger that was usually characteristic of one. Aside from a large dumpster and two back doors, the alley was empty. One of the doors, however, stood open and the hum of a large fan could be heard. Beside the short steps leading to the door lay a well-groomed Rottweiler.

The dog noticed Heavy and blinked its alert, brown eyes. It did not rise to meet the Russian however, simply resting as the large stranger approached it and extended a hand to pet it. Its tail wagged congenially.

"Hey there!"

Heavy's head snapped up into the back door where the voice had come from. A bear of a man (though Heavy could easily say the same for himself) stood in the middle of the room, meat cleaver in hand.

"Is this your dog?" Heavy asked, "I mean no harm to it…"

"Oh no, that's not what I was yellin' at ya for!" though his shape was intimidating, the butcher's face was a jovial red, "I need some help with movin' some packages into my delivery van. I only got so many arms an' you look like a strong enough guy…"

Heavy saw no threat in the other man's wide, white smile and entered the building. Behind him, the Rottweiler settled back into its nap.

The back room was strangely immaculate, the smell of meat present but not stifling. Multiple fans packed into every corner of the room could be attributed to the chill air that made the hair on Heavy's arms prickle.

The butcher, who introduced himself as Clyde, lead Heavy into the freezer where stack upon stack of packaged meat waited.

"We have an anniversary picnic comin' up soon," Clyde explained, "We're hopin' ta make it out biggest yet! Anyways, we only need about twenty of these packages for today's delivery."

"Where are they all going to be delivered to?" Heavy asked as he began to pick up the cold packages.

"Around, Some to the retirement home across town, the rest for restaurants. Typical places, ya know? Go ahead and wait out where ya came and I'll bring the van by."

Heavy did as he was told, careful not to drop any of the meat and found himself once again in the sleepy Rottweiler's company. This time, it didn't wake to greet him.

SSure enough, Clyde carefully backed a great white delivery van into the alley with practiced ease. Heavy waited for the van to come to a full stop before unlatching the door with a careful finger and climbing inside to load the packages in the back of the empty van.

Behind him, the van creaked as Clyde climbed in as well. There was something in his hands, but it was not a package.

"You never answered my question from before, I think," Heavy addressed the butcher as he worked with his back to him, "Is that your dog? She is very beauti-"

There was a resounding crack as Clyde struck Heavy over the head with a bar stool. Skull reeling, Heavy could only manage a feeble struggle as the giant bartender straddled him and removed a syringe from his apron pocket.

There was a sting, and then there was nothing.

Clyde silently exited the van and closed the doors, latching them with care. On the way inside to throw out the syringe, he bent down and pet his Rottweiler on the head. The dog's tail wagged in its sleep.


12:12 AM

Spy wasn't one to pass off a teammate's disappearance as mere desertion. No, explicable or not, if there was a loose end, it was his job to chase it down in every direction it split into.

Especially when the aforementioned teammate disappeared in a town that had already claimed two other RED mercenaries.

The walk to Scout's current abode was a short one. Mayor Campbell certainly wasn't lying when he said asking for Joanna was sure to point them in the right direction. Whoever this woman was, it seemed the entire street was enamored with her and her newly christened fiancé.

Joanna and Scout's house looked like all the others. Two stories, clean-cut lawn and a shiny, new car in the driveway. A picture of the American Dream.

Spy, Soldier and Pyro arrived just in time to see none other than Scout himself walk out the door in a stiff new suit (a jarring contrast to his regular wear) with a briefcase in hand. A beautiful woman, Joanna most likely, followed him out smiling from ear to ear. The scene was strangely unnerving.

"Scurrt!" Pyro called, interrupting the couple's kiss goodbye. Joanna cast the firebug a curious glance before turning back to Scout.

"Do you know them, honey?" She asked.

"Of course! I used to work with 'em," Scout answered.

"Used to?" Soldier scoffed, "Son, you're still working with us! You're coming back to Doublecross with the rest of us and fighting like a man! Not hiding out here and playing House with your Barbie doll! No offense to you, ma'am…"

"Oh yeah?" a spark of the old Scout flashed from beneath the mild-mannered young gentleman that stood before Soldier, measuring up to his collar, "Just you try ta make me. It's against the law to kidnap people."

"You think that's gonna stop me? It didn't stop me from kicking Nazi ass all across Europe and then some and it sure as hell isn't gonna stop me from kicking yours back to base!"

"Soldier, let me talk to him," Spy stuck his arm across Soldier, barring him from trying to strangle the young Bostonian.

Lighting himself a cigarette, Spy walked up the drive and grabbed Scout by the wrist.

"Pardon me, mademoiselle," he nodded to Joanna, "May I have a few words with your fiancé?"

"Just don't keep him long," she chirped, "It's his first day at the firm and oh! We're also meeting the Johnsons for lunch…"

"I'll have him back before you know it," Spy assured her as he led Scout down the street.

"Are you goin' to try an' force me to go back with you too?" Scout asked as they stopped at the bus station on the street corner, "Because my mind's made up. I ain't goin' back there, I ain't goin' anywhere."

"You realize you're in no position to make these demands, right, Scout?" Spy held up his hand to silence Scout from correcting him that his name was Hogarth, "You either come back with us, or we kill you. Company policy."

"That's against the law," Scout protested, "The authorities will get you one way or another."

"Oh all the asinine things- Scout, do you really think that the law can reach us under the Administrator's wing? They're flies against her."

Scout would have gotten mad by now, Spy noted. Instead, a jubilant smile lurked at the corners of his mouth, as if he thought Spy was joking. It unnerved him.

"What did Dell say?" Scout suddenly asked.

"We're still convincing him while we stay with him."

"And when's his time up?"

"When we find Demoman."

"Where is he? What happened to him?"

"We don't know yet."

Scout thought for a moment, looked back down the street where Joanna and his teammates stood, and waved to her.

"I'll tell ya what; I'll think about it. Can't just up an' leave with ya this second, I'm supposed to become a husband soon…"

"I understand. Just don't put it off, or you'll only hurt her more. Believe me," Spy pat the young man on the shoulder and lead him back up the street to his house. "She is quite beautiful."

When they returned to the driveway, Joanna had disappeared back into the house.

"Have ya changed your mind yet, private?" Soldier asked while Pyro busied theirself with the shiny rear-view mirror, reflecting the sun in every which way.

"You'll get my answer when ya find Demoman, big guy. Don't worry." Scout said.

Soldier didn't look too pleased with the answer, but any objection he might have shared was cut off when Joanna returned with a tray of lemonade.

"Now if you fellas will excuse me, I've got a job ta get to," Scout said, mocking a salute and getting into his car. Pyro made a sound akin to a whimper as their entertainment slid out of their grasp. Joanna waved to Scout as he sped down the street to the town center.

"It's a bit of a scorcher out, isn't it?" Joanna asked, "I figured you'd all like a drink for your troubles…"

The three mercenaries each accepted a glass. The lemonade was impossibly sweet and cold.

"Madam, I don't mean to intrude, but how long have you and Hogarth been together?" Spy asked. The condensation on the glass wet his gloved fingertips.

"About two days," the woman answered without skipping a beat.

"Two days?" Spy and Soldier asked in unison.

"Don't you think that's a little fast?" Spy recovered.

"Maybe, but I don't mind," Joanna offered the tray to Soldier as he downed the rest of his drink, "Besides, it was the mayor who suggested we be together. He has only our best interests in mind!"

"Interesting," Spy said before noticing Pyro, "Pyro, what on earth are you doing?"

Pyro looked up, caught red-handed where they crouched pouring their lemonade on an unfortunate snail. Ashamed, Pyro hurriedly returned the empty glass.

"We're sorry about him. He's not exactly all the way here," Spy said to Joanna who merely chuckled.

"No harm done! I've been having trouble with those silly little snails all season. They're ruining my peas!" she said.

"You should let Spy have a go at them," Soldier snickered, "Frenchies love snails, don't ya know?"

"They do?" Joanna asked. Spy wasn't sure if she was just humoring Soldier or if it was really news to her.

"I don't care for escargot," Spy said, finishing his own glass of lemonade and giving it to Joanna.

"I'm sure it tastes just fine, though," Joanna nodded, "Say, are any of you boys interested in moving into the neighborhood?"

"Negatory. We're here strictly on business," Soldier said, Spy shot him a look and he fumbled out a quick "Sorry, ma'am."

"Oh, it's no trouble at all," Joanna assured them with a wink, "But in case any of you do change your mind, the Creekfield Women's Association can get you one of the nices homes around. Just mention that I sent you."

"Will do. Come, gentlemen," Spy turned to leave and signaled for Soldier and Pyro to follow.

"So what'd you tell Scout?" Soldier asked, glancing over his shoulder to make sure Joanna had gone inside before he spoke.

"I told him he could either come with us or die by our hands. He has until we find Demoman to decide and end it with Joanna."

"Kind of harsh, don't you think?"

"I didn't expect to hear that coming from you."

Soldier shrugged.

"Love can be a powerful force in a young man's life… Don't ask me how I know that."

"I wasn't planning on it," Spy said. He could entertain himself with the Soldier's life story later. For now, he had plans to make.