With a grunt, Sniper – rifle and machete now back in his possession – wiggled under the fence after his former captor. To his surprise, he had trouble catching up with his companion's quick, shuffling steps as the two walked through the Red fort entrance.
The fort was dark and silent. Sniper felt a surge of anger. So they had let him walk out in the dark, by himself, and just gone to sleep? Nice to know he was appreciated.
Then he thought about the Engineer's newest invention and paused. He was immune to his coworkers' weaponry, but the newcomer would be as good as dead if one of Conagher's sentries was right around the corner. Sniper held out an arm, stopping the Pyro short.
"You might let me go in first, just in ca-"
"What on God's green earth is that?" Soldier's words slurred together as he leaned against the doorway that led to the open-air courtyard in the fort. He'd traded his usual waistcoat and pants for a patched pair of pajamas and a robe that looked like it desperately needed washing.
"Found 'im outside, Doe." Sniper shrugged. "Says Redmond hired him on."
If the soldier heard Sniper's words, he didn't show it. "I don't –hic- trust a man who won't show his face. Cowardly, 'swhat it is. C'mere, Nancy, and let me get a better look at ya…" As he shambled forward, Soldier lost his balance and crashed into the flamethrower-toting Pyro. With an angry shout, the newcomer stepped back and let the drunken American fall face-first on the ground. An instant later the flamethrower was pointed at the back of his head.
Sniper raised an eyebrow, then threw an arm around the pyro's shoulders and gently steered him around the prone armyman. "You'll be working alongside him, I'm afraid."
His companion grunted in reply.
The pair topped the stairs to the haystack and approached the barracks. As the metal door slid open, Sniper gestured to a row of open-faced wooden lockers along the wall. "Yeh can put yer bag in there, mate. I'll need t'let our medic know you're here. He… well… there are some, er, procedures Redmond expects him to run on us."
The Pyro stiffened, uttering something so soft it was inaudible and almost impossible to understand through the gas mask. After several seconds, though, he complied, allowing Sniper the time to slip out of the barracks.
It took less than five minutes for Sniper to find the Medic. The doctor tended to spend most of his time in his office – a closet-sized storeroom converted into a makeshift surgical ward – with his prized book collection and, to Sniper's bemusement, a handful of white pigeons.
Sniper rapped on the door twice. The hollow sound echoed through the fort like gunfire. A moment later, he heard something shift, and the door swung open to reveal the mercenaries' doctor.
"Vat is it, mein freund?" Medic crossed his arms and glared down at the Australian. "Did Heavy break Scout's neck again?"
"Doc." Sniper jerked a hand toward the front barracks. "We got a newcomer here."
A smile broke out on the Medic's face. "Ah, mein pyromaniac! I vas wondering ven he would show up!"
"You knew someone else was coming?"
"Ja." Medic gave Sniper a sidelong look as he opened the door to the front barrack. "Miss Pauling briefed me this morning. I am the physician, after all."
At that, the doctor leaned back inside his quarters, emerging once more with a white lab coat that he hurriedly swung over his shoulders.
A dull roar, punctuated by shouts that were easily identified as the soldier's voice, met the Medic and Sniper as they trotted toward the barracks. Once inside, they found the rest of Redmond's hired hands clustered in a semi-circle around the newcomer, their expressions ranging from curiosity to outright suspicion.
"What's up with the suit?" Scout limped close enough to peer into the Pyro's eyeholes. "You ugly or somethin'?"
"If ugly needed suit, you would have suit," the Heavy growled.
"Don't start with me, fatty, or I'll break your skull."
"Scout is weak, just like bunny on jammies."
"Why you-!"
"Men!" Medic shoved his way through his coworkers until he stood next to the Pyro. "Give our new arrival some air, please! Mr. Doe, if you would kindly go sit down before you hurt someone. Mr. DeGroot, please help him to one of the benches."
"That maggot pushed me! I think he broke my nose!"
Sniper opened his mouth to protest, but Medic spoke first, his face set in a disdainful expression. "Mein freund, I'm astounded you're still conscious, given the amount of alcohol you consumed. Now sit down and be silent."
With one last grumble, Soldier shoved the Demoman's helpful arm aside and dropped onto one of the benches on the far end of the room. He glared at the newcomer as the doctor flicked a pen out of one of his coat pockets and opened up a package of notes he'd brought with him from his office.
"I believe you are ze last of our team," he said, tapping the clipboard with his pen. "Pyrotechnician. Flamethrower, shotgun, fire axe. Quick enough on your feet, plenty of endurance. Offensive detail, recruited to counteract the cloaking technologies developed by the Spy."
The Spy flicked his cigarette. "You mean to tell me Redmond's crew hired a mercenary for the sole purpose of… setting the other team's spy on fire?"
"I would be more worried about my own skin, if I vere you." Medic shrugged. "Blutarch is sure to hire one of his own soon. Redmond cannot do much without his brother close behind."
"Blu Spy on fire is good." Heavy nodded. "I am not friend of Blu Spy. He twists knife when he stabs. Hurts like bear. Taunts me like crab."
"I gotta admit, it'll be nice to have someone else watchin' my back," Engie said. "That Blu Spy is a monster with those sappers."
The Medic scratched at his chin, eyeing the Pyro like a butcher appraising a particularly meaty cow. "I think he will work nicely, but I'll know more after a physical and a practice run before the cease-fire ends in the morning."
The Pyro flinched at the mention of a physical, but said nothing. The Medic clapped an arm around the newcomer's shoulders and grinned.
"Mein freund," he chuckled, "let me be ze first to welcome you to Teufort."