Revised on the 23rd of September 2017
Ranger Station Charlie, Mojave Wasteland, Nevada
2285
It was dawn, the desert sun rising over the East and its golden rays wash over the dry landscape. It wasn't long for the beams of light to be awash over an outpost, a concrete wall perimeter that had the rusted hulls of cars and trailer caravans inside, some of them stacked on top another with wooden planks creating walkways between them. There was also an office building, located right next to the only entrance of the perimeter and right in the center of it all. The entrance displaying a wooden sign with the flag of a two-headed bear.
A man was on top of the office building, sitting on a chair right next to a small circular table that had a pair of binoculars, an ashtray, and a morning brew of steaming coffee. The Ranger dressed in a blue plaid shirt, worn light jeans, and brown, dusty boots, was keeping a watchful gaze towards the valley that led eastward from the station, careful to spot out any threats, especially ones dressed in crimson. Legion activity had died down in the Mojave ever since Hoover Dam, to the point where it was almost negligible. Still, if that camp they took out last night was any indication, they had to be careful.
As the ginger-bearded man took a sip from his coffee, light snoring brought his attention to his feet. Next to his leg was the sleeping, curled up form of Cooper, the dog getting some much-needed rest after eating a bowl of molerat stew graciously provided to him. He knelt to the dog and gave him a few light pets across the top of his head, making the canine's ear flick. He smiled before the sound of approaching footsteps from a wooden plank caused him to rise from his seat, and spill some of his coffee and wake the dog up.
"Sorry, Cooper," he muttered, before facing the man who walked up to the roof. "Morning, sir!"
"Morning, Parmley," a bearded man in a ranger outfit and hat greeted. "How's Cooper holding up?"
"Just fine, Rubin. A bowl of food would make any dog happy. Ain't that right, boy?"
"Woof!" the dog answered, as he looked up at Parmley with his tongue hanging out.
"So, sir, have you agreed to approve my request to send out a search party?"
As soon as Parmley mentioned that, the comms officer's demeanor changed. He let out a sigh, signifying he was disappointed with something.
"Yes, and no..." Rubin regretfully answered.
"What's that supposed to mean, sir?" Parmley asked.
"Yes, you can go out and search for the Courier, but, you can't bring an entire search party with you."
"What? Why? There absolutely no reason for that to happen?"
"Son, Ranger Station Charlie has been through a lot, as you are aware. When the station was taken back and reinforced, and soon defended from another Legion onslaught, it was hailed as a great victory not just for the Rangers, but the NCR as well. So, the brass doesn't think we should spare the manpower for a search as that could hurt the image."
Ranger Parmley literally could not believe the reasoning he was just told. None of it made sense. Only getting frustrated at that moment.
"What?!" he exclaimed, more than annoyed. "The reason I can't bring a party with me is that it could 'hurt our image'? That just sounds like a load of shit. For Christ's sake, Legion and raider activity's been at an all-time low, so what harm could be done by bringing two or three other rangers with me?"
"Parmley-"
"And I'm looking for the Courier, of all people, sir! The same person who helped hold this place for the Rangers when the Legion came around a second time! Why the hell would looking for him be 'hurt our image'!?"
"Because he's the same person responsible for all the nasty business that happened up in Utah. And the business with that politician."
The ginger Ranger froze at the mention of Utah and remembered hearing all the accounts of what had happened at a town in a small, snowy landscape in the mountains. Accounts of how an entire town was wiped out and buried in a mass grave, and how the Courier was reported to have died at the hands of someone who had long held a grudge against the man. And then, reports of the Courier rising from the dead and taking revenge upon the man who buried him; though, it was already too late to save the town. A town that would've fallen under the New Californian flag.
However, the incident with that senator was... Strange. It was reported that the Courier, not long after coming back from Utah, went to the NCR Embassy on the Strip and straight up murdered an emissary working at the embassy. No, not "killed", as that's really an understatement. He tortured the man to death, blocking the door to his office with filing cabinets. The MP's reported hearing the man's blood-curdling screams for almost half an hour, before finally breaking through the door to find a dismembered and mutilated piece of flesh that was once an NCR politician. And what was even stranger being the Courier just surrendered, no resistance from him when the MP's arrested him. If it wasn't for all the things he did for the NCR, he could've very been put in front of a firing squad...
But why that politician? If Parmley remembered correctly, he was just some young startup and wasn't as slimy as the other politicians who pocketed money from Brahmin Barons.
No, the Ranger wasn't having any of it.
"There's still gotta be something you can do," Parmley said, practically pleading at this point. "He's still done a lot of good for us, and me. Hell, he's probably the reason we won Hoover Dam in the first place! He could be in trouble and it only feels right to return the favor to him."
Rubin opened his mouth to speak up but pulled back as he really couldn't argue with him on that. The Courier was a legend, a hero of the Mojave. Even though opinion about him has soured a bit in recent years, he's never done the Rangers wrong. Especially Station Charlie. However, the Rangers weren't the only one he's done right by, as a man on the ground was listening intently to the conversation on the roof.
"Alright," Rubin relented, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I can't give you a party of rangers, but... I can give you an extended leave, as much time as you need to find the Courier so you don't go AWOL. Don't take too long, though, or else the Brass will be up my ass again."
It was better than nothing, and Parmley didn't mind working alone occasionally. It helped his tracking skills grow.
"Thank you, sir."
Parmley then went down the stair-planks and gathered supplies for the road: meds, ammo, and food for two. Tying a red bandanna around his neck, adorning his head with a rawhide hat and sunglasses, and slinging a .308 chambered Service Rifle over his shoulder, he was ready to set out and find the Courier. Before he even set foot out of the perimeter, however, he felt a hand a grace his shoulder. The Ranger turns around and sees a man in sleeveless trooper armor with a sling of pouches wrapped around it, sunglasses covering his eyes, a scoped hunting rifle on his back, and a prominent red beret atop his bald head
'Hot damn, 1st Recon!' the Ranger exclaimed in his mind, immediately recounting the war stories he's heard about the sniper battalion. 'What is he doing at a Ranger Station Charlie?'
"Hey," the man greeted, in a low voice. "I heard you were going to go out there and search for Nathan."
"Yeah," Parmley said, eyeing the man and his specific use of the Courier's actual name. "What about it?"
"I wanna come, too. He's a friend, and if he's in trouble I need to be there."
A friend? Parmley stepped back and looked at the sniper and trying to figure out how he even knew the Courier. That's when he remembered the story of him and a man armed with a sniper rifle defending the refugee camp of Bitter Springs from a Legion slaver party. Yet, another victory for the NCR gained by the Courier.
"You're Craig Boone!" the young Ranger exclaimed, almost elated. "I've heard stories about you and Nathan."
"So, I've heard..." Boone remarked. "Well, is that enough to convince you to let me join?"
"Sure! Wait- but," Parmley did a double take. "Aren't you supposed to be stationed elsewhere? Why are you even here?"
The Sharpshooter just shrugged.
"I'm on leave and I stopped by here to rest up."
"Why are you geared up, then?"
"I hunt slavers when on leave."
Outskirts of Giza, Egypt
2076
The Saharan desert sun had finally relented its watch over the dunes and settled into the West, giving way to the Moon. Unfortunately, frigid temperatures now replaced the relentless heat, not freezing, but rather uncomfortable for those without shelter or something to keep them warm. An orca colored dropship, situated right next to the remains of an old village, was thankfully such a shelter for the occupants inside. Within the cabin, Jesse, Angela, and Fareeha were gathered around the holographic table and looking over a map of Hakim's compound, bright blips and symbols used to signify the position of guards, patrols, and important landmarks.
"Gotta ask," Jesse said, directed towards Fareeha. "How'd you get all this intel, anyway?"
"I was thorough in my research," she answered. "I had some of my most trusted men recon the compound, even before you arrived."
"Does Helix know about any of this?"
"No."
That caused McCree to frown before he just shook his head and continued to look over the geography. The plan was basically to sneak in, take in what they needed, and get the hell out before anyone was none the wiser. Though, pissing off the U.N. is one thing, pissing off Helix Security International was another. At least, Overwatch would get the blame.
"So, this will be where you will infiltrate the compound," Fareeha started, laying out the details as she pointed to the southern side of the compound. "Thanks to Hakim being a lavish spender, there is plenty of vegetation and greenery to cover an entrance into the perimeter, as well as an exit out. Once you're inside, you will have to infiltrate the large building and break into Hakim's office. What we need should be there."
"Any idea of what we should look for, specifically?" Jesse asked.
"Documents, files, reports, whatever. If it can provide any information pertaining to Talon and Hakim's whereabouts, grab it."
"Hmph, sounds familiar."
"I have to clarify one thing, however: Absolutely no killing! Dead bodies will only complicate things and cause hell for all of us if this mission screws up."
It was at that moment that Dr. Ziegler placed a black case onto the table, unlatched it, and opened it up to reveal two dart guns. They were largely black, with some pieces being a dark blue. The "slide" of the gun was just a cylinder that was flat at the muzzle but had three blue prongs that formed a triangle with each other. There on the sides of the gun were viewing panes, meant to show the contents of the gun but it was currently empty. In the case were 10 darts filled with a golden substance.
"Fortunately, I brought along something to assist you with this mission," the Doctor explained as she pulled one out of the case and handed it to McCree, muzzle facing away from him. "They aren't terribly accurate and do have limited range, so you'll have to make your shots count."
"How long do the shots last?" the Cowboy asked as he felt the gun in his hand.
"It should knock them out for a couple hours. Long enough, I hope."
McCree sighted the dart gun, a bit ungainly in his big hands as he swept the interior of the dropship, before landing the sight plain on the hunched over form of Nathan, who occupied the booth seat and was loading rounds into a magazine for his carbine.
"Muzzle discipline, cowboy," Nathan said, his eyes still focused on the magazine. "Or I'll stick it so far up your ass that your nose'll be the barrel."
Jesse smirked but his eyebrows twitched in response as he lowered the gun set it back down onto the command table and addressed the other two.
"So, what'll you two be doing?" he asked the Captain.
"I'll stay here and provide radio assistance," Fareeha explained as she picked up a wireless headset. "Athena will also provide assistance whenever possible, helping me scan out and observe what is happening around you."
"And I'll stay here, as well," Angela said. "But I will have the Valkyrie suit online and at the ready, in case any of you require medical assistance."
"I guess we're all ready, then," McCree noted, then turning. "What about you, Brin? Ready to make something of yourself?"
Nathan did little to regard him as he grabbed his metal helmet situated it onto his head before he grabbed a magazine, tapped it on his dome a couple of times, and jammed it into his marksman carbine. He stood up and grabbed his duster to drape it over his armored body, completing his "signature" outfit. He started walking towards the exit, passing by the three gathered around the table.
"Let's just get this done with," the Courier only muttered.
Using a jeep Amari used to drive to their hideout, McCree and Brin had finally reached Hakim's compound. Ditching the jeep a couple hundred meters earlier to avoid detection.
They now were on the outskirts of the "forest" Fareeha had described earlier, providing them a place to hide amongst the vegetation. Security was seemed tight around the compound, as two heavily armored vehicles were guarding the entrance and patrolmen were all over the perimeter. The decorative "pillars" seemed to have turned into watch towers as the beams of spotlights are emanating from them and scanning the ground in front of them. They couldn't see what was happening inside the perimeter but they thankfully had the help for that.
"Pharah," McCree whispered into his headset, specifically using her callsign. "We're right outside the compound. Gonna climb in now and get what we're after. Over."
"Copy that," Pharah acknowledged. "Remember, it should be the bigger building where Hakim's office is. I don't know what it will be like inside so be careful."
"Can do."
Jesse brought a rope with a claw at the end, which they are going to use to the scale the wall and subsequently make a safe descent down. Meanwhile, Nathan produced a circular device with wires and wrapped the leather strap to his right forearm.
"What is that?" Jesse asks, noticing the odd-looking device.
"Stealth Boy," Nathan answers, fastening the leather strap. "Only one I brought with me for this mission."
"What's it do?"
"You'll see."
Jesse only furrowed his eyebrows before he went to focus on swinging the claw up the wall.
After spinning it like a lasso for a couple of seconds he finally let's go and the claw soars through the air and over the wall. He then pulls on the rope and stops when he feels resistance, indicating the prongs were firmly in contact with the hard surface of the wall. Nodding to Nathan, he grabs the rope and plants his feet firmly onto the vertical surface of the wall and starts to climb his way up to the top. The man behind him following suit. Finally, reaching the top of the wall, McCree brought the rope up and placed the prongs of the claw on the other side of the wall and threw the rope down into the compound so they can safely descend. Their boots were finally down on the ground, in the other forest patch.
They looked around and saw they were some patrols meandering about as well, and another armored vehicle parked right in front of the gate. Thankfully, none of them were focused where the Cowboy and Courier were hiding.
"Heh," McCree let out an amused chuckle as he shook his head. "U.N. sure knows how to pick 'em. Let's go."
They made their way to the large building, slowly hugging to the walls, and making sure to stay in the shadows and out of any U.N. soldiers line of sight. At the back of the large building, the door had an electronic lock with a security screen built right next to it.
"Don't worry," Jesse said, he brought out some sort of gray, plastic card with black bars all over it. "Winston made sure I came prepared."
He waved it in front of the screen's scanner and after a few seconds the screen blipped green and the magnetic locks of the door making noise before the door slightly opened inward. Nathan keenly watching all the while.
"What was that?"
"Kinda like a master key. Except for run of the mill security systems. Should make things easier."
Sneaking in with dart guns at the ready, they find themselves in some sort of kitchen, completely empty of life. It looked nice, though, the work of some top-tier designer. However, the look of sleek granite counters was the least of their concerns now. They moved silently into the neighboring rooms, crouching low to the ground, and checking their corners as they walked across the hard floor. Finding a staircase, they slowly crept up the steps, wary of the noise they were applying with their boots. The upper floor was also devoid of life as they made their way to a set of doors also blocked off by another security door. Didn't put up too much of a fight, as McCree merely waved his wonder card in front of the scanner and the office cracked open.
Inside they find the walls were lined with bookcases, paintings, and display cases of ancient pieces of art, most likely Egyptian in origin. At the end was Hakim's desk, where his computer was. The man in the poncho walked right up to the machine and plopped himself onto the leather office chair in front of it. Turning it on, he sees it requires a passcode before doing anything. Huffing at this, he produces a white rectangle with a silver metal tip and plugs into the computer. After he does that, the screen blinks off and up again, before showing the logo of Athena.
"Connection established," the AI stated, as she breaks into Hakim's computer and multiple screens pop up as she begins to download all the files she can. "It shouldn't be long until we have what we're here for."
"Good," McCree notes. "Looks like this we'll be outta here in no time."
As Athena and McCree do their thing, Nathan walks around the office and looks around. The bookcase, especially, grabs his attention as he looks over the inventory. Most of it was in Arabic, so he had no idea what the titles were about, but some were in English. One of them, a novel of all things, looked much older than the rest and had a worn-down spine. His eyes, focused on the title of the book, darted to the above space in between the shelves and noticed something out of the ordinary. A metal corner was sticking out from behind the book, prompting him to remove it. He then saw that it was a part of a safe.
"McCree," the Courier called over to the Cowboy. "I found a safe here. Might wanna check it out."
"Well, hot damn," McCree uttered as he walked over to the bookcase by Nathan's side. "Athena, is there anything you can do about that?"
"I'm afraid not," she answered. "I am not detecting the safe anywhere within this building mainframe. It is not connected to the security systems so carrying it may be your best bet."
"How the hell are we going to do that?"
The loud crashing jolted him as he watched Nathan slam the butt of his game rifle to the surrounding space around the safe. Books were thrown apart and the wood was cracked around it. It felt like the wall was shaking every time he brought the stock down.
"Woah, woah, Jesus!" McCree exclaimed. "What're you doing?! You're going to alert every damn guard here!"
"Athena said carrying it was our best bet," Nathan stated, not breaking from his task. "And Amari wanted anything of value, so I'm not going to let this slip by. Besides, I'm already done."
Indeed, the wall surrounding the safe was pulverized thanks to the strength and implants in Nathan's body. Slinging the lever-action over his shoulder, his wraps his hand around the edges and pulls, causing the safe to move inch by inch. Shaking it out of the drywall, the safe is finally set loose as dust and debris scattered everywhere. The safe wasn't very big, no bigger than one of those thick books on the bookcase, really. However, if it had to be secured to a wall and hidden by a bunch of books in the office of a crime lord, it probably meant it was important. Nathan stuffed it into his pack with ease.
"Download complete," the AI chimed, bringing McCree's attention back to the desk and grabbing the white flash-drive before pocketing it.
"About damn time," he said, before glaring at Nathan. "Let's get out of here before you start breaking up more shit."
And with that, they vacated as they entered, leaving under the cover of darkness, and using the rope to disappear into the conveniently placed vegetation from before. They were now far from the compound, and by extension far from the U.N.
"Heh, surprised that went off without a hitch," McCree remarked as he held the flash-drive in his hand. "Rarely see that in this type of work. Good thing I didn't have Tracer with me."
"Yeah," the taller man merely said. "Let's just get back there and give Amari what she..."
Nathan stops in his tracks as he looks up, his eyes focused on a set of red lights in the sky. McCree stopped and noticed as well, seeing the red lights and how out of place they were. They weren't stars and were getting bigger and bigger as if they were flying right to them.
A large black aircraft swooped over them, cutting through the air, and causing the men to brace themselves as the desert sand kicked up all around them, their poncho and duster flapping in the wind. They turn around and see it flying directly towards the compound. As it flew over the checkpoint, it sends out two missiles, each for the armored vehicles and destroying them in an explosion of fire and metal. An alarm immediately starts to blare off as U.N. troops start firing at the ship. Then, small arms fire starts to emanate from the area in front of the checkpoint, directed at the U.N. troops. The compound was under attack.
"Ah, shit," the Courier muttered under his breath. "We better get out of here, fast!"
He was about to make double-time it back to the jeep until a metal hand grabbed him by the arm. He looks back to see McCree with a stern look on his face.
"No," he said. "I'm going to help them."
"Are you serious?" the man in the duster questioned, in almost disbelief. "We supposed to get in and get out, nothing more! You really wanna risk your life for people we're not supposed to be saving."
"I ain't gonna let Talon wipe 'em out. If you ain't gonna help out? Fine. Just get this back to Fareeha before I'm there."
He tosses the white flash-drive Nathan, who barely catches it in the palm of his hand as the Gunslinger in the poncho ran off into the distance and the hail of gunfire.
"McCree!" Nathan yells running at him, trying to get him back here before he relents and stops in his tracks. "Shit! You stupid motherfucker!"
"Brin?" he heard the voice of Amari in his helmet's radio. "What's going on? Athena's picking up large activity happening at Hakim's compound. Where are you?"
"Talon's attacking the compound. They might be after the same thing we are."
"What?! Where are you?"
"I'm outside the base, but McCree just ran headfirst into battle to fight Talon. Trying to be a goddamn hero."
There was only silence on the after that last transmission, the Courier being unsure of what to do next. He had what they were there for, and he didn't need to get involved in another firefight he had no part in. But if that idiot, McCree, dies and he did nothing about it; he should probably start getting used to sleeping in a cell again. The shit he finds himself in.
"Brin," once again hearing the commanding voice of Captain Amari. "I contacted my squad and they will soon be there to provide reinforcements. Angela and I will bring dropship there to provide further assistance."
"What about the files?" the Waster questioned. "The things we came here for?"
"I'd rather not let more people die, nonetheless one of my own friends, over some files I wanted. That can wait."
"Well, shit. Fine. I'll make sure that idiot doesn't die."
"Thank you."
The Courier ran towards the compound, feeling the intensity of the firefight get closer and closer as he watched rounds fly through the air and explosions detonating in the distance. He stops three-hundred or so meters from the action, flips on his helmet's low-light vision, sets his pack down, and rests his Brush Gun on top of his pack before peering into the scope. Through the sight, he could see the chaos unfolding at the compound's checkpoint.
A bunch of men in black uniforms and metal helmets were inching closer and closer to the gate as they were supported by an armored vehicle with a manned turret up top. The U.N. soldiers were taking cover wherever they could, mainly behind the burning wrecks of their own vehicles, and tried their best to return fire. There was machine gun fire emanating from one of the pillars/watchtowers, but that ended as an RPG blew the pillar up and turned it into rubble.
"Damn it," the Courier cursed under his breath as he concentrated one eye through the scope. "Where is he?"
The sight of a brown stetson finally caught his eye, as Jesse McCree came into view and was carrying a wounded U.N. soldier over his shoulder with his robotic arm, periodically firing back with his revolver. Nathan saw one of the Talon soldiers closing in with his rifle. Operating the lever, he lets off a .45-70 round and watches as it cuts through the air and throws the man back in a red mist. He repeats the process, making sure to take out the ones who were getting too close to McCree and the others, making sure to aim for the upper area of their torsos to guarantee the kill. A burst from the armored vehicle causes him to peer up at the gunner, who is encased in a cage of metal protecting him from small arms fire. However, there was a pane of glass, a viewing port for the gunner to peer through.
Seeing this, Nathan pushes the lever forward and ejects the round from the chamber as his hand goes to the bandolier around his waist. He pulls out a cartridge, one with a silver-colored, pointier tipped bullet. He slides it into the chamber and slams the bolt home before he shoulders it and brings his eye to the scope. He still sees the machine gunner and his relentless fire, the convoy now closer to the defending band of soldiers. He lines his crosshairs up with the pane of glass, steadies his breathing, and squeezes the trigger. The register of the gun was louder and brighter from the previous round he used, even throwing off his view as the recoil was more pronounced. As he follows up, though, he knew he hit his target as the glass was cracked, the turret upturned, and the barrel was quiet. Nathan smirked, but that went away as another RPG flew and detonated much closer to the group. He grabbed more rounds from his bandolier and loaded his rifle with much haste before he felt the magazine was full and operated the lever with a resounding kerchunk. His scope scans the foliage, trying to find the RPG. He soon laid his crosshairs on two red eyes on a dark silhouette, holding a large cylindrical shaped object and a cone-shaped object in his other hand.
"Found you, asshole," he muttered under his breath as he let loose another .45-70 round, this time meant for the warhead. He knew he made contact when an explosion went off on the attacking side, even harming a few near the blast.
He brought his rifle to the front of the attackers, who were now forced to take cover behind their armored vehicle. Noticing movement up top, the Courier brings the scope upwards to see that the machine gunner was now replaced with another operator and the barrel was pointed directly at him.
"Shit!" he cursed as he dives to the side and narrowly avoids a barrage of machine gun fire as he tumbles into a ditch.
He gets up, dazed, and shakes his head a few times to get the sand off. He then hears jet engines in the air and he looks up, expecting to see that black ship but instead sees something small flying through the air: a person. They were in a set of blue armor and had a helmet the shape of a falcon's head. It also had winged jet engines on its back. Their orca dropship was tailing it but stopped as it hovered closer to the ground and closer to where Nathan was. The ramp lowered and out came Dr. Ziegler in her "angelic" form, literally flying up to the Courier.
"Nathan!" the blonde yelled, concern ever present in her voice. "Are you all right?"
"I'm fine," he said, waving off any assistance. "Where the hell is Amari?"
"You didn't see her? She was flying in front of the dropship."
"That was her?!"
They then began to hear more explosions going off in the distance, but they went off after another in a rhythm, as if there were fired constantly.
Wasting no time, Nathan brought out his carbine and ran off into the distance, Angela running after him. It was not until they closed the distance and were now in the thick of it. Fareeha was flying overhead, sending down rockets onto Talon operatives as she evaded their fire, especially that of the vehicle's turret. As soon as they came into view, Nathan let loose a hail of gunfire on the goons. Angela ran over to where McCree and the U.N. troops were, Caduceus Staff in hand.
"What took y'all so long!" the Cowboy said with a dumb grin on his face before stray gunfire forced him to hunker down. "You were gonna miss out on the fun!"
"Shut the fuck up!" the Courier screamed as he ran to their cover, returning fire all the while.
Despite the heavy fighting, they had managed to thin the numbers of the assault group but were far from done. As Nathan kept the pressure on, he spotted another RPG off into the distance getting ready to send off a warhead. He hovered his crosshairs over the man but was met with a click instead. He cursed himself again as he discarded the empty mag and loaded in a new one. Bringing the rifle up to bear just two seconds later, he peers through the scope and sees that man instead on the ground, convulsing for some reason.
"What...?" he muttered, noticing how he was reacting the same way someone reacts from Radscorpion stings.
"Rocket barrage incoming!" he hears the Egyptian soldier yell and he watches in awe as panels on her suit open up and let loose a flurry of small rockets that bombard the armored vehicle that pestered them for so long. The machine smolders and explodes and its munition spark off like firecrackers. The occupants are gone.
Fareeha landed back on the ground with a thud in a crouched form, her fist planted into the dirt. It was quiet, for once.
Angela, Jesse, and Nathan soon joined her in the open space, looking over at the carnage of the battle.
"Damn," the man in the stetson muttered before he wiped his brow of sweat. "This life's never unevenfu-"
"Shh!" the woman in power armor silencing him. "Something's coming..."
When she said that, they remained quiet until they noticed a guttural noise coming closer and closer, sounding like a vehicle. But much larger.
Before they knew it, the walls of the checkpoint cave in as a large mass of metal and treads burst through it. A thin barrel was pointed at them as infantry spilled in from doors on its sides. It was a damn Infantry Fighting Vehicle.
"Damn it..." Fareeha muttered. "If only my team was here sooner..."
"I've got you in my sights!"
Three fast flying objects radiating blue slammed into the side of the IFV and blew a large crater into the vehicle and threw around the men unlucky enough to be on that side. The ones who were still standing were cut down by blue bolts of energy coming in at high velocities. The others took advantage of this surprise as Fareeha jetted into the air to launch rockets down below, and Nathan and McCree fired upon the remaining troops. It was then they started noticing some of their targets were being taken down before they even got a shot off, but it wasn't the time to think about it then. They needed to clear the area, first.
And that, thankfully, didn't take long.
The land was quiet once more, and it stayed that way. The only sounds being the labored breathing of those who had done the fighting and won, and the cracking of the fire from the smoldering wrecks of the vehicles, both U.N. and Talon. The four were taking in the scenery and appreciated being alive even more.
Amari breathed in deeply, before letting out a long, exasperated exhale as she was clearly tired from the battle. In all honesty, she was reveling in the silence that now surrounded her, and felt a bit more at ease that she had gotten what she needed with the help of her friends and a stranger.
Footsteps disturb her thoughts as she swiftly brings her rocket launcher to her right side, the others following suit with their own weapons. Before them, about ten meters away from them were two masked figure holding weapons. One was a hooded figure, covered in black and blue gear with armored plates around their body and a dark mask with blue lines forming an upside-down triangle at the center. The weapon they held was some type of sniper rifle if the scope was any indication. The other taller figure was clearly a man, his head full of shaggy white hair and the rest of his face covered by a black mask with a red eye. He was wearing a leather jacket that was blue at the sides and white on the chest, with red separating the two colors and black pants with a sidearm at the side and tactical boots. His red gloves were holding a mostly white and blue rifle but looked as heavy as an LMG if anything.
"Hey..." the Courier said, recognizing the man from earlier. "That's the guy from the wanted poster. That's-"
"Soldier: 76," Fareeha vehemently spat out. "The same man wanted by Helix for stealing that Heavy Pulse Rifle from Watchpoint: Mesa. I should place you under arrest!... But I have to ask; Why did you help us?"
The two figures exchanged glances, before looking back at Fareeha. A warm chuckle started to emanate from the hooded figure, it sounds old, worn, and feminine.
"Why else?" the hooded figure playfully asked. "To help out old friends, of course."
"You're no friends of mine," Fareeha coldly responded. "And I doubt your friends to them either..."
As the sniper slung her rifle, she placed her hands on her hips, trying her best to look frustrated as she shook her head.
"Do I really need to prove myself?" she asked, before shaking her head more and reaching up to her mask. "Fine, have it your way."
"Should you really be doing that?" the soldier next to her questioned, a hint concern in his gruff voice. "This could only make things-"
"Oh please, Jack, you knew it was bound to happen. Besides, you can't hide behind a mask forever."
"Wait," McCree said as he examined the exchange between the two, the similarities, and the sounds of their voices. "Jack?"
At that moment, the woman had finally lifted her mask to reveal a worn, dark-skinned woman with gray hair and an eyepatch on her left eye. There was also another detail on her face, one that was faint but could still be seen by the fire of the wrecked car. A tattoo on her good eye... The same one on Fareeha.
'Oh, shit,' Nathan thought as he put two and two together. 'Don't tell me she's her-'
"M-mother...?" Fareeha muttered under her breath.
'Great. Family drama. Just when I had enough on my plate…'
Then, the sound of small arms weaponry being locked and loaded interrupted the group out of their family reunion, as the surviving U.N. soldiers surrounded them and had their weapons pointed at them.
"Oh, come on!" McCree exclaimed, his hands rising to the air even with his Peacemaker still held. "We just saved your asses! Can't y'all cut us some slack!"
"I told you we shouldn't have done this," Soldier: 76 growled as he took a more aggressive stance, getting ready to fight.
The old woman only rolled her eyes before she addressed the one in charge.
"Surely you can let us off the hook, no?" she asked, rather courteously in hopes of swaying his mind. "We did save you after all."
"I know," the man said, rifle still leveled at her. "But I'm sorry ma'am. Under the Petras Act, we still have to arrest you."
Looking around and seeing they were practically surrounded, Nathan's left hand slowly crept up to his right forearm. One of the soldiers notice and levels his rifle at him.
"Hands up!" he commands. "Now!"
The Courier's glowing red eyes stare back at the man pointing a rifle in his face. He doesn't comply.
"No."
With a flip of a switch, the man in the duster vanishes, visibly startling almost everyone around him.
"Was?"
"Madha?"
"The hell?"
"Where did he go?!"
The soldiers then began to nervously swing their rifles about, their heads swiveling and trying to make out where he had gone. The others were still sort of being held up. Then, the sound of hissing air registered as a syringe dart from nowhere embedded itself into the neck of one of the soldiers, who winced at the pain but soon collapsed to the ground as the drugs took effect very quickly. It wasn't long until another dart lodged itself into another peacekeeper, and then a third, and then a fourth. Seeing this, the squad leader leveled the rifle at Soldier: 76 and placed his finger on the trigger.
"If you don't stop that right now," he yelled to the air. "I'm going to shoot him right in the-!"
The U.N. personnel didn't finish his sentence as an unseen force grabbed his rifle and swung it into the air, causing him to clamp down on the trigger and unload into the sky. Something then punched him, hard, and relinquished his grip on the weapon which was jammed into his gut before the stock swung across his face knocking the wind out of him. The others took this opportunity to retaliate as well, overwhelming the guards in their confusion and knocking them out. Even Angela used her staff with much finesse, taking the guard out before he even got the chance to fire his weapon. In the end, it was just the doctor, cowboy, soldier, sniper, and captain still left standing.
Then, the Courier reappeared before them as the cloak around him fizzled like electricity, startling the group once more, except for the Soldier and the Sniper, who only perked their eyebrows curiously.
"So, that's what that thing does," McCree exclaimed, looking at the piece of hardware on Nathan's right arm. "Could've used it earlier."
"Let's get back to the dropship," Fareeha commanded, bringing everyone's attention back to the situation at hand. "Won't be long until the authorities arrive. Let's double time it."
McCree, Ziegler, and Brin agreed and heeded as much, making their way back to where the dropship had landed. Fareeha was about to join them before she looked back at her mother and the soldier. So many questions and feelings were rushing through her head now. Many of them weren't pleasant, but she had a task at hand.
"As for you two," she began, catching their attention. "I'll leave the choice up to you."
She went off to catch up with the others, leaving Jack and Ana amongst the rubble. They both looked at each other, trying to find an answer they both could share.
"Do we really have to do this?" Jack asked, reluctant to follow them. "Overwatch died a long time ago..."
"Doesn't sound like the Jack I used to know," Ana remarked, her expression solemn. "We may be old soldiers, but it's always good to not fight alone."
The group, now back at the ship, had landed closer to the Temple of Anubis, where Fareeha's men were told to rendezvous after the business at Hakim's place. The same place where their mobile base was once stationed when she originally took back the temple with her team.
Fareeha, Jesse, Angela, and Nathan were waiting outside of the dropship, only the light from the cabin illuminating their presence in the dark. Nathan was smoking a cigarette as he looked over his pack and was doing an inventory check. However, Jesse also had a smoke of his own, taking drags from his brown cigar as the fiery tip illuminated areas of his face. Fareeha and Angela were standing next to each other, Fareeha still in her Raptora armor minus the helmet and Angela in her Valkyrie. The former had both a copy of the flash drive and Hakim's safe in her hands. Unfortunately, the safe took a stray bullet while it was in Nathan's pack and sounded like the contents inside were destroyed or shredded. Something valuable may still be in it, but it wasn't a guarantee. They'll find out eventually.
"So, your mother..." Angela hesitantly said, wary of the daughter's response. "I can't believe she's actually alive. For all these years."
"That makes two of us," Fareeha responded, but saying no more than that.
Angela could only but look up at the stern, blank expression on her friend's face.
"If you want to talk," the Doctor assured, placing a gloved hand on her armored pauldron. "You only have to ask."
"...Thank you," the Security-Chief croaked out. "But please, let's discuss this another time."
Nathan was watching their entire exchange, seeing the hard visage of the hard, military woman get downsized. All because of a long-gone mother. The Wastelander could only help but shake his head. He didn't know the full story between them but very well predicted it could only complicate things further.
The sound of jet engines rumbled through the air as Fareeha looked up and saw her squad flying overhead to her. They soon landed their boots on the ground, four of them, the one in front holding a stuffed duffle bag slung over his shoulder. He walks closer to Fareeha and salutes, Fareeha returning the formality before going at ease.
"It's good to see you well, Captain," he said, greeting her in their language. "And... I'm sorry my squad couldn't make it there. Helix brass held us up, wouldn't authorize us to leave the base. Again, I'm sorry."
"Don't worry, Saleh," Fareeha reassured. "It wasn't your fault."
"Not answering my Captain's call to action is shameful. I still let you down even if no one got hurt."
"Well, you can make that up by taking this and bringing it back to high-command. Make sure our brothers and sisters didn't die in vain."
She gave Saleh the flash drive and the broken safe. He radiated a warm smile at the Captain with their prize, but that smile went away as he unslung the duffle bag and reached it out for her to take.
"And here's your stuff, Fareeha," sounding slightly saddened by what he just said. "You're really going to do it, huh? Going to join Overwatch after all this time? You know Helix isn't going to like this."
Before Fareeha could even respond, an older voice piped up from behind.
"What?!" exclaimed the older woman from where the dropship was, in Arabic. "Fareeha, are you seriously going to make this decision?"
Fareeha faced her, the faces of her squad contorting into that of confusion as they stared at the older woman.
"Fareeha, is that-"
"Yes, mother," Fareeha responded sternly in English. "I'm making a decision for myself, for once. One I've wanted to make for a very, very long time. Even if you think otherwise."
The tension in the air thickened as Ana crossed her arms in front of her, never breaking her gaze from her daughter.
"Fareeha, I love you and I'm very proud of what you've done," she said earnestly in English as well. "But you will be throwing everything you've worked for by joining this new Overwatch!"
"I'm a grown woman, mother. I'm capable of making hard decisions. Have been for some time. I went through the academy. I went through Helix selection. I've undertaken missions and ensured my men get through the worst of it. I'm sorry, mum, but you can't stop me from fighting for what I believe in."
Deafening silence hung in the air as neither the Amari's refused to back down. Saleh and his squad fidgeted in their place, feeling their suits get hotter. Angela had her hands balled up and up to her mouth, her eyes awash with worry. McCree slack-jawed with his cigar and his stetson hovering over his eyes. And Nathan, now standing, taking much slower drags from his cigs then before, as his eyes darted back and forth between the women.
Then, back on the dropship, a red glove perched itself on Ana's shoulder, making her look back and regard the masked face of the soldier.
"She's got your spirit, Ana," he said. "Y'know you can't keep that down."
Ana stared at the red eye for several moments, before shutting her one eye and exhaled deeply. She looks back at her daughter who still has kept a solid visage.
"I only hope you know what you're doing, Fareeha."
With that, they went back into the cabin.
Soon, after saying goodbye to her squad, Fareeha and the others climbed up the ramp. The dropship soon flew away into the air, bringing them back home.