Here we go with chapter four. Since apparently this story is so popular (and I'm kind of stuck on Son of the Spy at the moment) I decided to go ahead and update this one again. In this chapter all of our favorite characters will get sorted into their classes and we'll see the first televised event that everyone around the world will be seeing.
If you enjoyed feel free to leave a review below and tell me how you think I'm doing.
Chapter Four: Meet Them All
Jack took a deep breath to calm his racing heart as he stepped out of the small room and left the letters behind. Leander had already managed to slip out of sight, leaving Jack to realize just how scared he really was. The boy couldn't help but be nervous. His class would determine his role in the games. He wasn't smart, he wasn't strong, all he could say he knew how to do was run. What kind of good could that be in a place like this? What kind of class could he even be? As he stepped out into the hallway Mun-Dee was passing by.
When the Australian saw the boy's nervous face he wrapped a comforting arm around his shoulders and gave him the most comforting smile he could manage. He knew it wasn't much, but Jack was grateful for it none the less. He took another deep breath and closed the door behind him, nodding to the older man. Mun-Dee released him and continued down the hallway, and Jack followed close behind to where their fates would be decided.
They all gathered silently at a door that led to the side of the base, a part that was left unused except for this one day of the games, and it was the only other time they'd be let out of the main base and see anyone except for the people they'd already met within these halls. Jack forced himself to not look up as he stared at the doors ahead. He knew he couldn't keep the nervousness off of his face, but also that cameras were now trained on them since they had reached this door.
From this point on, when they were at the gates to the arena at this time, they would be on camera constantly. Inside the main base they had their privacy, but not now. His friends and family would be able to see him now, and it was the first time they'd be able to see the team. Were they more scared for him, seeing how small the team was? Were they even able to watch? Would they be able to look away?
Jack knew that he really didn't have much to offer, and it made him even more nervous than ever. The videos were being prerecorded now, and they'd be released during the time when everyone would be off work and out of school. So everyone had to see.
Jack paused as he felt someone lay a steady hand on his shoulder. He paused and looked up, noticing that it was Leander, who was once again smoking. The pungent air of smoke that seemed to wreath his face only seemed to make the spy more mysterious than ever.
It was the first hint to those watching that this team was more than it appeared to be. They were determined to be one cohesive unit. Jack took a deep breath again but felt himself beginning to calm. Right now he had to be strong.
The gears that worked the heavy doors let out a loud groan and a shudder as they were forced open after such a long time of not being used. The halls that led down to the gym where they would be measured and weighed, as well as had their physical and mental abilities assessed for use in the arena were stark white. Nothing lined these long walls.
It was Maksim who stepped forward first into the silent, foreboding halls. His heavy footsteps seemed to echo as he walked. Maybe it was because he wasn't the brightest or just generally wasn't afraid of what he'd find.
Either way the rest of the team seemed to wake up suddenly and they all stepped forward to follow the huge Russian. Leander let his hand slip off of Jack's shoulder, but Jack felt glad to have them all next to him. He might have panicked otherwise.
They walked for what seemed like a long time, simply walking towards the end where they would find the doors and the only seats that seemed to exist in this strangely dark hall. Several minutes passed, often the hardest part of the games. The anticipation made Jack nervous, and he had to force it down. He knew he looked scared, but he forced himself to keep walking.
Often people on this silent walk would grow so scared that they'd bolt screaming back to the entrance. They'd never get far, and would be dragged right back by the many hidden guards who were always near at hand to make sure they participated in the games. Young kids and older men alike would panic in this hall. Having the team actually being a unit though made it much easier on all of them. None of them faltered in step.
It was the first time in sixty years that someone hadn't tried to run back, that someone hadn't panicked. It was generally thought of as largely normal for at least one person to break from the pack. The team of nine however didn't budge.
They all had varying degrees of interest in the situation. Jack looked scared, but he didn't spook and it wouldn't matter anyway, so he stared straight ahead. Mun-Dee looked nervous and kept pulling on his hat brim. Henry kept casting glances around him as he walked. Zane was scowling as he watched his nervous team, obviously not happy with the situation.
Leander looked as usual, completely calm and simply continued to smoke as he followed just behind Jack in case he spooked. Ludwig seemed to be watching the walls and calculating something as he walked. Maksim just looked extremely pissed off that his friends were so scared but was unable to do anything about it.
Deil was frowning and tapping his finger on his hip as he walked, watching the others and obviously wanting to say something but unable to. They had to be silent now, so there was little he could do. Even Travish seemed unable to drink and hadn't brought one of his many brown bottles with him down the hallway, the spark that Jack had seen so many times seeming to glisten all the more brightly as he glared ahead.
They reached the end of the hallway at last, where huge wooden doors separated them from where their friends would go one by one for their measurements. This part wasn't televised, since this was apparently a closely guarded secret by the games. They would go in there and do whatever it was that they were going to, then exit and return to their rooms silently until they'd all been through the process and then they could go out to watch the first broadcast with the rest of the world. It was the only one they'd probably be able to make themselves watch, the one that announced their classes.
The end of the hallway had the wall opposite of the door lined with chairs. They weren't the most comfortable, but they didn't need to be. There were enough for the team, close together with little space between. Jack felt himself even more nervous as he stared at the red upholstered furniture. Would he even be able to sit?
Instead of walking right to the chairs though, Maksim turned around. They all paused as they looked up at the huge Russian. They'd be punished if he said anything right now. But the man was silent, and instead he reached out his enormous hand. He met Jack's eyes and nodded to him. Jack nodded back and placed his hand on top of his.
The others all reached forward as well now, one by one laying their hands on top of their friend's. They stood that way for a moment, simply meeting the gaze of everyone around the small circle. It was comforting for the boy who was really scared out of his mind. Knowing they were here for him helped him look more nervous than scared now.
Ludwig turned then and looked up towards the corner of the end of the hallway, where a small camera was filming the whole exchange. The others all looked up as well, directly at the camera. None of them said anything, just looked up at it. It was an act of defiance in a way, but Jack knew that they'd let this one slide. They wanted a good show, and this team was already shaping up to give them just that. There. Let the people wonder about that.
The hands were removed, finally freeing Jack from under the weight of them all. They all simply turned and took a seat on the wall. Maksim sat in the one closest to the camera, as if the hide his friends from view. Ludwig sat next to him, and Deil next to him.
Henry sat down next to the Engineer, and Zane sat next to him, possibly for moral support. Next to him sat Mun-Dee, and the Australian man leaned back against the wall. Jack sat next to him, staring straight ahead and taking a deep breath, knowing the cameras couldn't see him past the huge Russian at the end. Leander sat calmly on the other side of him, taking another long drag on his cigarette. Finally, Travish sat next to him and appeared to be furious. Jack might have to ask him why later.
The sound of the anthem of the games played loudly over the speakers, and the doors cracked opened with a rushing noise. They could see little there except a white wall opposite them, and a smiling woman in a white lab coat with a clipboard. There was a click, noting that the camera had turned off. They still weren't allowed to talk, but it made Jack a little more comfortable knowing that it wouldn't be watching him now.
"Zane Taylor," she called.
The man stood, still scowling at her from under his helmet. He went inside and the doors closed behind him with a click. The rest of them were left sitting there silently and any sounds from inside were kept completely within the walls. Until they went inside it would remain a complete mystery to them. Jack just continued to stare at the ground beneath his feet.
A good half hour passed before Zane came back out. They all looked up as if to study the costume he'd been put in. He still had his helmet on, but he was now wearing a red coat and dark pants. A yellow patch with a red mark was on his arm, and he was wearing boots. He simply nodded to him and made his way back down the hallway as the woman returned.
"Deil Conaghar," she called.
The Engineer stood and went inside without a work, still frowning to himself. The doors were shut again, and Jack couldn't help but wonder if they were just calling out the names randomly. He'd thought it would be in some sort of order. Maybe it was. Maybe they were going down the list of people they already knew for sure, to those they didn't. That meant Jack would be one of the last. It certainly didn't make him feel any better.
Another half an hour went by before their friend returned from inside of the room, and they looked up at his costume. He still had his yellow top hat and glove on his right hand, and goggles. Now however he was wearing a red suit that just looked like something you'd see a working class Engineer in. His arm also had a yellow patch on it. Deil just continued to frown as he went back down the hallway, and again the woman appeared.
"Ludwig Schwarz," she called cheerfully.
Ludwig stood and gave them all a cheerful smile as well as he went inside and the doors were shut behind him. Jack felt grateful to the man once again, grateful to see that smile. He wasn't sure how he could smile when everything just seemed so wrong, when they were about to be placed into what Brian had always called hell on earth. Yet he could smile. Jack knew then that even if his wife and children had left him, they would miss him because of that.
Forty minutes passed this time before Ludwig came back out, smiling as usual and walking away as they usually saw him, with his hand clasped behind his back. He was now in a white lab coat with red gloves, a red patch shaped like a cross, dark pants and dark boots. He simply walked away silently as the woman again returned. Jack was beginning to dislike her.
"Travish McGroot," she called.
The drunk Demoman stood and continued to glare at the woman with his one good eye. The eye patch seemed to give him a more sinister appearance than ever, and Jack couldn't help but wonder what that man was really thinking sometimes. Perhaps that Demoman was more mysterious than they had thought. The woman however smiled as if this was all normal and led him inside. The door closed once again, with them all blinking after him.
Again, forty minutes passed before Travish returned. He looked more sour than ever. He was wearing dark pants and boots like everyone else, and a long sleeved red shirt. A yellow patch also sat on his arm as well, and he was wearing a dark brown vest. That had several bombs of his invention strapped to his chest. He just stalked away down the hallway, still looking mad. The woman returned, still beaming, and consulted her clipboard.
"Leander," she called simply.
The Frenchman stood silently and walked forward. He didn't even so much as cast a single glance behind himself at his friends. Calm, cool, and collected as usual he simply stepped inside and the doors were closed behind him. Jack began to feel nervous again. How long was he going to have to wait? What kind of class could he possibly be? He returned to staring at the ground, and didn't look up even when Mun-Dee laid his hand on his shoulder.
Twenty minutes passed before Leander returned. He was wearing another tightly fitting ski mask, only this one was a bright red. His suit and tie now matched it, though his suit was lightly pin striped with white. He was wearing black gloves and shoes. The man simply adjusted his tie and pulled out another cigarette. He gave his watching friends a calming glance before heading off and leaving them behind him.
"Maksim Navikov," the woman called with a surprisingly good accent.
The enormous Russian stood, glaring down at the woman as he passed. It was like he was silently threatening her and telling her that if she laid a finger on his friends he was going to personally take care of the issue. Jack was suddenly glad that the enormous and rather ill tempered man was on his side. He'd hate to find himself fighting him.
Fifty minutes passed before the man returned. He was wearing a red shirt, and a dark black vest that was zipped up. The yellow patch sat on his chest, mostly covered by a long string of bullets that were about as long as Jack's hand. He was wearing black pants and boots, and black golf gloves sat on his hands. He stopped and looked them all over before he seemed satisfied and turned to lumber back down the hallway.
"Mun-Dee," the woman called again.
The Australian stood and turned his head to look at the two remaining friends of his. He tipped his hat to them before he walked forward towards the woman and went into the room. Now they were to the people that Jack had no idea who they were going to be. He was growing more and more nervous, shifting more and more in his seat. He could see Henry was just as nervous as he was, and he seemed to be staring at the floor.
After an hour the Australian man returned, again tipping his hat to the two and giving them the most reassuring smile he could manage. He was wearing a red t-shirt with a black vest over it, where the familiar yellow patch sat. His pants were a dark brown along with his dark boots. It wasn't a look that Jack could have named if he would have tried.
"Henry Smith," the woman called. Jack was pretty sure he hated her now.
The man with the burned face stood and gave Jack an apologetic look as he was led inside. Jack felt his insides churning at this point. This was going exceedingly fast since there was only nine of them, but he'd already been sitting here for hours. He couldn't have been more nervous. He was the last. He had no idea what he was going to be classed as, or what he could possibly do to help the team. He found himself staring at the floor.
An hour passed, and Jack jumped as the door opened. He was surprised and a little creeped out to see how Henry came out. As he had suspected, they'd covered the man's face to make him more fit for television.
He was wearing a fully red, flame retardant suit with a yellow patch on the arm. He also wore black boots and black gloves with yellow fingers. On his head sat a dark black gas mask that covered all of his face. His breath came out of it heavily though he was no doubt breathing perfectly fine through that mask.
Henry watched Jack for a long moment, and the boy knew he was probably giving him another apologetic look that he couldn't see. Then he turned and left down the hallway. The woman returned, and Jack forgot his hatred of her as he looked up at her helplessly. Now he could feel fear and worry crawling up his throat. She just smiled at him.
"Jack Barreau," she called as if there was someone else there to confuse who was going next.
Jack stood on shaking legs and walked forward to finally go into the room. Once he stepped past the woman the doors closed shut with a bang, making him jump. Seeming completely unphased by this, the woman smiled and motioned for him to follow her into the next portion of the room.
With a gulp he followed her around a corner and paused at the massive gym. It was well lit and there were various stations around the room with people in lab coats waiting for him.
The woman led him over first to a small side room where various men in coats sat him down and handed him a test like one he would see in school. He supposed this is where Ludwig and Deil would have excelled, the test to see how smart they were.
Jack on the other hand could barely understand half the things that were being asked of him. After about thirty minutes they seemed to think he was as done as he was going to be and began jotting things on their clipboards. Jack was dragged to another station.
This one was far more simple, mostly just survival things. How to build a campfire, how to tie knots, and various other things. Many contestants before had died because they didn't have even the most basic of survival skills.
Brian had always made sure to teach his younger brothers everything he could. Jack wasn't the best, but it was passable. He was suddenly grateful to his eldest brother, now more than ever. He hoped that somewhere Brian understood that, and once again promised himself that he would be going home. The thought made his hands far less shaky.
This proved good though because he was taken to the shooting range next. All of the various weapons of the team were lined up along the table, all having been built specifically for the team itself. He didn't hesitate and picked up the sawed off shot gun that Deil had called a Scattergun and a simple pistol. He walked to the line they pointed out.
In front of him were several moving and non moving targets, all of which he eyed carefully. He was aware that traditionally everyone was supposed to have three weapons, but he didn't have a third. He needed to prove he could use these well then. He raised the Scattergun first and obliterated the closest targets with ease.
He then pulled out the pistol, ignoring the furious sounds of pens scratching against paper and clipboards behind him. He tuned out the noise and instead concentrated on hitting the targets. He missed a few times, and the moving targets were trial and error. However for only having ever picked up a gun this week he knew he'd done exceptionally well.
The guns were placed back down once again, and he turned to the final station. He had no idea how long he'd been in here anymore, but they sat him down in a chair. He was hooked up to an army of machines that began to monitor everything from his heartbeat to his blood pressure to see how healthy he was. Once the various tests were done he was released from the machines.
They had him lift weights and climb through an obstacle course. He certainly wasn't the strongest and couldn't really lift that much, but the obstacle course was right up his alley. He finished it easily and in record time, even having no issues with pulling himself up ledges and leaping large distances. This seemed to impress the army of scientists monitoring him, but he couldn't blame them. He looked so unassuming.
They seemed to discuss something for a long moment, then brought him to another table where there were assorted objects. They were meant to be melee weapons, though other guns could be spotted here as well. The various men and women watching him waited for him to pick something up. There were shovels, guns he couldn't name and even frying pans. Jack however nearly instantly picked up a simple metal baseball bat.
Jack had been on his high school baseball team, and he'd been one of the best, though he was still overshadowed by his older brothers. Even so, having a bat in his hands was more reassuring than he could ever explain. It was just something familiar. They brought him to a sandbag and told him to swing at it. He gladly did so.
It made a satisfying noise as he hit it hard enough to make the metal stand it was attached to rock a little. This was something that he certainly had no problem with. A baseball bat as a melee weapon was just up his alley. He hit it again, causing it to rock again. This continued for several minutes until they told him to stop. A woman collected the bat and ran off with it.
They took him to one of the final stations, a treadmill and various monitors for measuring his heartbeat and his speed, and other things besides. They hooked him up and then started it. Jack supposed this was his one thing he was really good at, just running. Zane had said to give them a show, and he was certainly going to do that. He looked up and focused on the wall ahead of him, then began to run as the machine started.
He didn't think about it, and just began to walk. His mind focused on the task, and his face became determined as it had so many times before. He didn't notice as they gradually picked up the pace, his body just adjusted. Soon he was jogging, then running. Again and again they increased the speed of machine, testing how fast he could really go.
Jack just kept running, like he'd been doing since practically the minute he was born. He didn't notice the eyebrows of the Scientists shoot up into their hairlines (and impressive feat for several of them), or that the speed simply kept increasing. His heart rate began to increase a little as they drew closer and closer to his limit, and they switched the machine to where it would allow him to stop at his own pace eventually.
Jack knew how to run though, and what to do as he did so. It took quite a while for him to finally tire enough that he began to slow down. His pace grew slower until he finally stopped and stepped off the machine, where they began to unhook him. He was breathing far heavier than before, but not enough so that he was bent over trying to catch his breath.
They allowed him time to catch his breath again and let the burning in his muscles disappear before they led him to the last station. This was little more than a glorified dress up station with a green screen. They apparently knew exactly what class he was and how they were going to dress him though as he was brought over, because they dragged him into the dressing room and threw various clothing items at him.
He sighed as he began to undress to change, knowing that this was where the "show pony" part came in. He didn't exactly have a choice though and changed into the clothes they had given him. He paused as he looked up at the mirror that sat on the wall of the small dressing room.
He looked so...well normal. He was wearing black sports shoes, one you'd see a baseball player wearing and he had often worn. Long white socks accompanied them, as well as rather long black shorts. The shirt he wore was a simple red t-shirt, and he'd rolled the sleeves up as he'd often done in practice to make the sleeves shorter.
He had the dog tags on of course over the shirt, which almost seemed to glow eerily against the red of the shirt. A black cap was on his head, as well as a headset. That was a large red headphone on his left ear with a microphone attached to it, though there was none on the other side which just sat above his ear. The whole look made him look like the sports player he was.
It confused him to no end. What kind of class could this possibly be? It was certainly like no other class he had seen. Then again, Henry had been the same way when he had come out. These were the costumes they were expected to wear until they died or were released from the battlefield, the mark of their classes. They would even be expected to wear them off camera.
While it was rather comforting to look so normal, he couldn't help but be a little concerned. What kind of class were they going to call him? He didn't have any identifying patch on him like most of the others had. He couldn't help but be relieved though that he hadn't been named "bait" or "distraction", or anything else useless like that.
The curtain was opened, and they dragged him out in front of the green screen. A camera was set up here, as well as a camera man who seemed all to happy to take all the time in the world to film his newest creation. He was beaming from ear to ear, no doubt excited to have created at least two new classes today.
Jack was handed a bag, which they mad him sling across his back. It was light, like the rest of his clothing, and then they gave him the bat from earlier and a baseball. As confused as he was, they didn't let him figure it out.
The camera man continued to yell enthusiastic scene suggestions, of which Jack felt unhappy to be trying. This was clearly coming across in his face, and the man seemed unphased by this. It was only when the man remarked that he'd be in here until he did something right that he finally made himself look like the show pony they'd made him into.
With the filming now complete they zipped the baseball and bat into the bag on his back, then shoved him right out the door. He couldn't help but be very relieved that this was all over and walk briskly out of the hall and back into the main base. Since he was the last, the door closed behind him with a snap, and he couldn't be more happy to leave that place behind.
He went straight to his room, where he threw the bag off and just flopped down on the bed. He felt way more exhausted than he'd ever remembered being. And the games hadn't even really started yet. Now that his class had been decided he couldn't help but agonize over the thought that the games would be starting tomorrow. What would they find waiting for them in the arena? His class still worried him, but not nearly as much as before.
He wasn't sure how much time had passed, but he was aware that the base was now completely silent. The cameras were off, but no one felt like talking. They were worrying about themselves, about each other, about what they'd ultimately face. What if they lost even one of the friends they'd grown to know? What would they do then?
After a long time however they came a knock at the door. Jack slowly forced himself to roll off the bed and onto his feet. He left the bag behind, knowing it would be an easy place to store his various weapons when they weren't in use, as well as anything else he'd need to carry so long as it would fit. But right now he didn't dare pick it up, as if doing so would mean he'd have to accept that all of this was indeed happening.
He went to the door and opened it, finding Zane standing at the door. The man seemed to look him up and down as he'd done so many times before, as if measuring him up. He didn't seem to do it for long though, and patted the boy's shoulder silently.
Jack stepped past him into the hallway, where the others had already emerged from their rooms. Though the silence was no longer mandatory, none of them spoke. All of them could sense the nervousness that Henry and Jack had, unsure of what they were supposed to be doing in the arena. They were all just trying to be there for each other.
Zane herded Jack into the rest of the group, who gave him the most encouraging smiles that they could manage. He managed something like his usual smile back, but they didn't seem to fault him for it. They couldn't see Henry's face, but they didn't doubt it mirrored Jack's. And even though Travish was once again drinking, his eyes still seemed to be have that angry look in them.
The nine friends made their silent way into the room where they had first met in the hall, something that was the closest thing they had to a living room anymore. There were various chairs and tables set up around it, and a television sat in the middle. They could watch the games here if they wanted to, though it would only work on that channel and in those times. Besides, what was the point of watching what they'd already lived?
They all sat down on the various couches and chairs though, and Leander took his seat next to Jack as usual, calmly smoking and just watching the television for it to turn on and show the first airing of the games. Jack felt suddenly grateful to the Frenchman, because somehow it just calmed him a lot more than he could explain. They all just sat that way, silently.
Jack couldn't help but wonder what everyone back home was doing. Were his brothers and mother staring at the television right now just like he was, waiting to see the fate he had in the arena? Was Pauling crying, or even able to turn on the television at all? Were his friends going to be able to watch him take place in these games? Would his family be able to look away?
Almost before he was ready for it though the television suddenly flickered to life. The anthem of the games played again and the RED and BLU Team logos appeared on the screen. The two smiling announcers appeared on the screen, both speaking English because it was the most popular language in the world.
"Hello," the first, a white female greeted. "and welcome once again to the Fortress Games! It's time we got to meet our RED Team and see what we've got in store."
"And what a year it's going to be," a black male said, beaming. "I mean...just look at the team!"
"It's very diverse," the woman agreed with a smile.
"I know you're all dying to see what's in store," the man continued. "So we'll go first to see our team for the first time."
The scene cut to as it had been before, all of them lined up in front of the door. Jack was glad to see he didn't look nearly as scared as he had felt. The team was clustered together rather closely, something that was rarely ever seen. And as the announcers began to talk again, you could clearly see Leander's hand rest for a few moments on Jack's shoulder before they began down the hallway.
"A team of nine," the woman said. "Much smaller than it's been in a long time. It looks like all males, and the youngest appears to be a teenager, while the oldest is in his forties."
"Very interesting to say the least," the man agreed. "They appear to be on fairly friendly terms. There! Do you see that? I do believe that we actually might have a team this year!"
They began moving down the hallway, all their faces showing various emotions and degrees of them. As they continued to walk, and the perspective cut to different cameras down the long hallway, Jack was a little happier to see that he still didn't look as absolutely terrified as he had thought he would have.
"Here's the first test of character," the man said as they walked. "To see which ones of them will be brave enough to walk themselves there. I hope we don't have any cowards this year."
"I do too," the woman said. "They all look pretty brave right now, but plenty of people have looked that way before reaching the door. Some of them look downright rebellious."
"Always makes for a good show," the man said happily. "There, halfway down. None of them seem to have even so much as broken stride yet."
"This bodes well for the games," the woman cooed. "What a brave team we've had so far. Let's see if they can make it to the end of the hallway."
"Looks like they might just make it," the man said. "And...yes there we go! They've made it to the end! That's the first time in about sixty years folks that the team has actually all made it there without turning around. What a spectacular upset!"
"These games are already shaping up to be the most exciting we've had in years," the woman cried.
Just as they said this, Maksim turned his enormous body to face the rest of the team. They watched as he held his hand out, and instantly Jack nodded his head in response. He reached out his hand, and the rest of the team didn't hesitate to reach out and place their hands over theirs.
Even though they'd all come from different places and cultures it was a show of solidarity that anyone could understand. But when they turned and gave the camera a defiant expression was when everyone in the entire world knew that this team was in fact a team and meant business.
"What's this?" the man gasped happily. "Well look at that. Looks like we were right folks. This is the first team we've seen in years! These games have gotten way more exciting."
"And look at those faces," the woman laughed. "Such defiance! Looks like we've got a team of fighters this year. I can't wait to show everyone at home the classes they are. These games are going to be interesting."
The screen cut back to the man and woman, beaming even wider than before as they sat at their desk. Jack was forcibly reminded once again that they were little more than toys for entertainment to these people. It was obvious looking at the others in the room that they all felt the same. Even Ludwig seemed to be glaring over his glasses at them.
"We'll get right to those classes now folks," the man said. "And let me tell you, this team is balanced well."
"That's not all," the woman said. "We've actually got confirmation on two new classes this year. Two more! It's rare to even get one."
"This year is going to be far more exciting than ever," the man said.
The screen cut out to a picture of a still scowling, but upright Zane. Behind him on the red background the symbol of a Soldier appeared, what appeared to be a simplistic drawing of part of a rocket launcher in a circle, the same symbol on the patch he wore.
"This is Zane Taylor," the man said. "He is the Team's Soldier, a class known for its skills in battle. This man is certainly one to keep an eye on."
"Right," the woman agreed. "His intelligence appears above average, and he's in great health. He has a vast knowledge of weapons, great survival skills and amazing endurance. His greatest strength in the battlefield however will be his ability to strategize."
"Mhm," the man said. "And if this year's RED Team continues to act as a team, it's only going to help them all out. We might actually see a win this year."
"Let's not get too excited," the woman reminded him. "There's a lot left before we can say that for sure. Let's move on."
The scene cut to Deil next, who was smiling and balancing a wrench on his shoulder. He looked self assured and appeared to stare right into the camera, though it was hard to tell with those goggles always on. Behind him appeared a wrench inside of a circle, which was like the patch that he wore on his own costume.
"This is Deil Conaghar," the man continued. "He's this Team's Engineer. We haven't seen a really good Engineer in years, and their skills are best used to perform maintenance as well as build various tools to use for the team. But let me tell you, this one is amazing. Nearly every single weapon the team will be using this year were designed and built by him."
"Indeed it is," the woman again agreed. "His intelligence is well above average, and he's in great health. His aim with weapons is about average, as are his survival skills and endurance. He definitely makes up for it though with his ability to build just about anything with hardly any parts."
"Makes you wonder what else he can build," the man commented. "And what kind of technology we're going to see on the battlefield."
"Definitely does," the woman laughed. "On to the third then."
The scene changed again to Ludwig, who was standing as they usually saw him, straight backed and with his hands clasped behind his back. He wasn't smiling now, and seemed to be watching them from over the rim of his glasses. Behind him appeared the red cross symbol in a circle, which he also wore on his coat.
"This is Ludwig Schwarz," the man continued. "This man is the Team's Medic, and it looks like he's a damn good one. Haven't seen one so focused in quite a while."
"Well he needs to be," the woman said. "His intelligence is the greatest in the whole team, and his health is the closest we've ever seen to perfect. His aim is very good, though he uses some highly unconventional weapons, some of which we aren't entirely sure of. His survival skills are about average, and his endurance is below average. His knowledge of the human body and how it works though means this team's going to be a lot harder to kill."
"I think he's into some experimentation as well," the man said. "Which hasn't always ended so well in the past. The team seems to trust him though, so I can only assume he's not like some of the others we've seen."
"Let's go to the forth," the woman said.
The screen changed to a scene of Travish. The man kept glaring at the screen, giving him a rather frightening look, especially with that eye patch of his. However he also seemed to have gotten a hold of a bottle of his drink again, and alternated between glaring at the camera and taking a drink of it. Behind him appeared the symbol of a bomb in a circle.
"This is Travish McGroot," the man said. "He's the Team's Demoman, and yes he appears to be rather drunk. Even though that's the case, it seems to not affect his thinking that much. Again, the Team seems to trust him, so it makes you wonder what he's really capable of."
"It certainly does," the woman agreed. "His intelligence is average, and his health is below average, not surprising with that heavy drinking. His survival skills are pretty average, and his endurance just above it. But his knowledge of bombs and how to dismantle something is very, very good."
"A Demoman is always a good Teammate to have," the man said. "Provided the Team works together."
"And this one is doing that well already," the woman said. "Let's hope it remains that way. Let's go take a look at the next."
Leander appeared next on the screen. He was standing straight and smoking calmly, refusing to look at the camera at all. It gave him a calm and cool appearance, one that made him look just as silent and mysterious as the man they knew. It gave away none of the silly side he could display though. A long handled, short bladed knife appeared in the circle behind him.
"This is Leander," the man said. "He's the Team's Spy, and he's good. We don't know family relation, what he did before, or even his last name. The only reason we know his first name is because he told us it, and for all we know, he could have been lying. He's a master Spy, and we don't have any information on him other than apparently, he's French."
"It's great to see a Spy who knows what he's doing for once," the woman remarked. "We can tell you that he scored above average in everything, though his health is just below average. Again, not surprising with such heavy smoking. His biggest assets are his abilities to use disguises, tricks, and manipulation."
"I certainly wouldn't want to run into him in a dark alley way," the man laughed.
"No one would," the woman replied. "Let's take a look at the next."
The scene changed to Maksim next. The enormous man barely fit in the camera, and he just stood there with his arms crossed and glaring at the camera. He didn't seem to move and appeared far more intimidating than he really was. The Maksim Jack knew was mostly just a big teddy bear deep down, scary though he appeared to be. The symbol of a fist with four marks to signify it was moving appeared in a circle behind him.
"This is Maksim Navikov," the man introduced the huge man. "He's the Team's Heavy. And let me tell you, he just looks like one. I wouldn't want to get on his bad side. Imagine what he could do to someone like that!"
"It wouldn't be pretty to be sure," the woman noted. "His intelligence is the lowest in the group, but I wouldn't count him out. He's very healthy and has great endurance. His aim is surprisingly high, and he carries an enormous gun. His survival skills are high, and his endurance is the second highest in the group. His strength is what sets him apart."
"On the battlefield that can be very helpful," the man said. "Can you imagine if he paired with someone like the Team's Medic? That could be a very dangerous combo."
"Let's hope we see something like that," the woman said. "We're nearing the end of our list. We've seen six of the nine now, so let's see the next."
Mun-Dee appeared next, holding an enormous sniper rifle. The Australian man appeared to lean on it for a bit, than lifted it to his face and aimed down the scope, turning it every now and then to aim at someone else. Jack got the feeling that if it had been loaded, there would have been several head shots at that point. The symbol that appeared behind him was a circular scope, like the one that was on the rifle he carried.
"This is Mun-Dee," the man continued happily. "He's my personal favorite class, the Team's Sniper. Snipers are a rare find these days, and they can be really effective, especially if they're concealed and high enough to take a lot of shots."
"Don't forget how accurate they need to be," the woman chuckled. "His intelligence is just above average, and he's quite healthy. His survival skills are high, but his endurance is low. His aim with a gun is really high though, not surprising really. He's going to be a great asset to the team."
"You can definitely say that again," the man laughed. "It's always great to see the good a Sniper can do."
"Well folks," the woman said as the screen cut back to their beaming faces. "There's two members left for the RED Team, both of which are completely new classes to the games."
"That's right," the man agreed. "And what an interesting couple of classes they are. The potential for both is just amazing! I can't wait to see what we have in store."
"Let's take a look," the woman announced.
The whole team seemed to shift and wake up suddenly, turning their eyes to the television with more interest than ever. The other seven, well there had been something almost kind of obvious about all of them. It was Henry and Jack though that were now holding some new weight. Jack felt Leander lay his hand on his shoulder, and Jack spotted Maksim lay an enormous hand on Henry's shoulder out of the corner of his eye.
The screen changed to show a scene of Henry standing there with his improvised flamethrower that had been created by Deil. The gas mask he was wearing seemed to glisten and give him almost an eerie appearance as he moved the flamethrower back in forth, as if itching to pull the trigger and bathe everyone in flames. Behind him appeared a tongue of flame that rested on the bottom of a circle, the mark of his class that he wore on his costume.
"This is Henry Smith," the man said. "And his class is as scary as he looks. The class that he has named is Pyro, a teammate that uses fire to his advantage."
"He certainly does look scary," the woman agreed. "His intelligence is above average, and his health is just below because of an accident that scared his face and left some other issues. His survival skills are a bit below average, and his endurance is just above. His aim also isn't the best, but that's not really an issue with a weapon like that. His knowledge of fire and how to control it though will certainly make the games more interesting this year."
"That they will," the man said. "This is by far one of the most interesting new classes I've ever seen. I never thought I'd see one like Pyro appear."
"I never expected this next one either," the woman said. "Why don't we take a look?"
Jack's heart jumped up into his throat at this, and he saw his own face appear on the screen. He was standing there and smiling mischievously at the camera. The baseball bat was balanced on his left shoulder, and the baseball was being tossed up and down in his right palm. Behind him appeared a shoe, not unlike the ones he was wearing now on its toes as if it was in mid stride. From where the ankle would be however was a raised wing, all of which was surrounded by a circle.
"This is Jack Barreau," the man said. "He looks kind of small, but that just gives him an advantage we've never seen before. This class was named Scout. The very potential of what that could mean just gives me goosebumps!"
"I know what you mean," the woman chuckled. "His intelligence is just above average, but he's extremely healthy. His survival skills are above average, and he has the highest endurance in the team. His aim with a weapon is pretty good, but that's not what sets him apart. Sheer agility is what makes this young man the first in this class."
"Agility doesn't describe it," the man added. "Besides the fact that he ran for a good half hour, he was quickest to clear obstacles. Besides that though, the top speed he was measured at was thirty one miles per hour. That's a new world record folks. The previous one was twenty eight miles per hour. That kid's not just quick, he's fast."
"That's all nine members of the team," the woman said as the camera cut back to their smiling faces. "And what a Team it is! I can't wait to see what happens this year."
"I don't want to call it early," the man said with a huge grin. "But we might just have a win this year. This team's the most diverse we've seen in years, and the spirit they've got!"
"It'll certainly make the games interesting to say the least," the woman agreed.
"Well folks," the man said. "that's all we have time for today. We've met the RED Team, and the games can now begin."
"Tune in tomorrow for the first day of the games," the woman said. "And until then, let's all wish our RED Team Happy Fortress Games!"
The Anthem played again as the scene faded out to show the emblems of the two teams. As the anthem faded and the emblems faded to black, the television switched itself off. Jack couldn't help but let out a sigh, and he knew his family might have a little hope now for him after they'd seen that team. Jack felt Ludwig patting his back with a smile.
"Zhis is good," he told him and Henry. "Ve vill make quite zhe Team."
"Unexpected," Leander said thoughtfully. "But not unwelcome. Zhis will be interesting."
"You did good mate," Mun-Dee told Jack and Henry. "Yer both goin' to be a grea' help."
Both Jack and Henry couldn't help but relax a little, and Jack smiled. He didn't doubt that Henry was doing the same somewhere behind his mask. Jack began to realize suddenly how hungry he was now that he wasn't so worried. He hadn't eaten all day.
"Did not know tiny baby man was so fast," Maksim said.
"Neither did I," Jack replied. He'd never bothered to see how fast he could run.
"Hey," Travish yelled suddenly, holding up his bottle again. "Le's drink up! No? Jus' me? Okay." He didn't sound very upset about this and just tipped the bottle back again for another drink.
"They'll have a hard time gettin' rid of us," Deil said with a smile, which was actually quite reassuring, though it meant the challenges would be harder.
"All right ladies," Zane said loudly over the din, getting everyone's attention quickly. He was smiling though, which meant he was actually quite happy about the Team and their chances. "this...I can work with this. We'll worry about plans and smaller teams within the Team tomorrow. Right now, everyone report to the dinning hall for dinner, then it's straight to bed for some well deserved rest. That's an order boys!"
The thought of tomorrow was almost frightening, and Jack almost wondered if he could get to sleep tonight. However the thought of the better chances they'd have than most, as well as the knowledge that Zane, who was so good at running everything, was happy with the situation calmed his fears. Still smiling and laughing and in far better spirits, the Team stood and made their way again into the dinning hall, quite happy for Zane's cooking for once.
This is by far the longest chapter that has been in this story so far, but I needed to fit all of this into one chapter. The chapters will vary in length depending upon what's going on in the challenges that appear. I'm going to fit each challenge into one chapter if possible, then have a chapter about what's going on in that down time between the daily games.
I hope you guys enjoyed so far, and get ready to see the first of the games in the next chapter. It's going to be fun, and crazy.