Somewhere in the Australian Outback.
Jamison Fawkes, better known by the callsign 'Junkrat', groaned as he opened the door of his shack to find a familiar black-clad ex-operative sat on his chair, drinking a glass of his home-made liquor. He'd been just about used to life after Overwatch. That, and being dragged in on do-gooder jobs by Soldier 76, whom he had realised was in fact their former leader.
"You need to learn how to make moonshine, you know that?" The familiar low growl was one Fawkes had grown used to during the innumerable briefings and debriefs in the Glory Days.
Junkrat took a few paces through onto the room, closing the tin sheet door behind him.
"Which bladdy seppo did you crawl out of then? And I'll suppose you're here to knock me off, mate."
Gabriel laughed, both at Fawkes' response to his being in the room and his belief that Gabriel was here to kill him.
"Why the hell would I want to do that?"
"You're Talon, mate! Any old tosser knows that!"
"Ex- talon." Fawkes jumped somewhat as the voice echoed out from behind him, before the creaking of floorboards tracked the movement of the figure, who had been behind the door, across to Gabriel's side.
"Oh right. I s'pose you two have settled your lover's spat and remarried each other, eh?"
The blank stares of rage soon wiped the smirk from his face and silenced his chuckling.
"So... whaddaya want with me, eh?"
A wry grin appeared on Gabriel's face again. "Well, we're going to go and light a nice big fire under Talon's ass. They already snatched Tracer and Widowmaker, and they're off-grid for now."
"Woah, no. Not after the last bleedin' do-gooder bollocks you dragged us into. You wanna know how long I spent in the fucking cooler for that?"
Jack chuckled again. "Yeah. You got me to thank for getting your sentence halved."
"Oh. Still-"
"This one's off-books, mate," Gabriel interrupted, "And frankly, the goddamn Petras Act hates us all equally. So we'll all be equally fucked. Besides, we ain't getting caught."
A smile appeared on Fawkes' face, suddenly erased and replaced with confusion. "So, y'want me to turn their bases into massive Barbies? What the hell with?"
He needn't have asked.
Two hours later. Former Overwatch Supply Depot.
If pictures were a thousand words, Fawkes' face spoke a million. It was like giving a kid the keys to a warehouse full of candy and a blank cheque. His eyes teared up with joy.
"A-anything I want?"
"Uh-huh." Gabriel knew exactly what he had just done: he had essentially given Jack the Ripper the keys to old London Town. Still, he's a necessary evil.
Fawkes clapped his hands together, wringing them. "Alright then, let's get cracking!" He practically skipped around the warehouse, throwing various items into the duffel bags on the loading pallet: anti-tank mines here, HEAT rounds there, as well as about 300kg of plastic explosive and hundred metres of detcord.
After about an hour, he had finally finished loading up the pallet mover, which now groaned and creaked under the strain.
"All done, mates!"
Mako, who'd been following Jamison, shook his head. "I'm not pushing," he grunted.
6 hours later. Venice, Italy.
Again, a smile appeared on Junkrat's face. "Better cover your ears, mates." It had taken him about 2 hours to set everything up: half an hour to sneak in, covered by Ms Amari's expert eye and suppressed rifle; an hour or so to wire up various IEDs made up of things such as mines and artillery rounds and whatnot; and half an hour to sneak back out. All the while, the rest of the team perched on the cliff above the headquarters complex.
During this time, Gabriel had disappeared. Nobody was quite sure where, but it wasn't that big an issue. It wasn't as though he was about to double-cross them. Again.
All the while, Sombra tapped away frantically, trying to glean whatever information she could, as well as information for her own gains.
"We're set. Hit it."
His thumb hovered over the detonator switch. "Fire in the hole!"
With that, he dropped his scarred and charred digit down onto the red plastic button. With a beep, the radio detonator complied. A microsecond later, the greatest firework display anyone could ever imagine lit up below them. The charges lit up from one end of the facility to the other, as smoke billowed from beneath it where the supports had been blow out. With an almighty creaking and ripping of metal, the entirety of one side of the facility slumped into the ancient marshland below. As the chaos below settled, Sombra cursed.
"Damn. I lost the data."
"Aww, fuck. Now what? The tracker died an hour ago, so..."
McCree's outburst tailed off, as the sooted, black-clad and somewhat irritated looking figure appeared at the top of the cliff.
"You could've fucking warned me you were about to light the fuse."
"Oh. Sorry, mate."
With that Gabriel dropped the holdall he had over his shoulder. It begun squirming on the ground, with muffled squealing inside.
"Is there, uh, a human in that trunk, amiga?"
"Yup."
Jack raised an eyebrow. "Who?"
Gabriel scratched his neck, looking somewhat uncomfortable. "One of the senior members of the Talon Council. He'll be useful, providing he hasn't had a heart attack."
A group of lights appeared, rising against the smoke.
"Ah, fuck. Get ready..."
The red tartgeting lasers of the three gunships lit up. Just before the drones entered range, a missile blazed over the team's heads. The center ship in the formation exploded, knocking the other two out of the sky in the blast. A triumphant whirring/humming echoed behind them. Jack and Gabriel turned together, to see who had just saved them.
Who was replaced by what. The angular frame of The Bastion stood, sillhouetted by the moon save for its blue faceplate lighting, with its cannon arm raised as though punching the sky. Next to it, a smaller figure stood with a bolt gun.
"Eventually, we've caught up to you. Then again, how could we miss an explosion like that?"
A grin lit up Mercy's face. "Of course it'd be you guys! Long time, no see, Torby!"
The Swede cackled. "I'm not the only one here, neither is our friend here."
The ground trembled slightly, as Torbjörn's companions strode out from behind The Bastion. A figure, around 7 feet tall, clad in gunmetal- coloured armor, with a hammer standing as high as him. Next to him, an unfamiliar figure. Female, it appeared, yet with almost the same build as her male companion.
Sombra paled slightly, as she recognised who this woman was. "Ehh..."
"Ah. I should have known that you'd be here, Olivia."
Despite Sombra's complexion, it was obvious she was blushing, at Zarya's knowledge of some of her most well-hidden secrets.
"Olivia? Oh... this is too good!" Gabriel couldn't help but cackle almost maniacally at this trinket of information. By now, Zarya's nose was separated from Sombra's by a fraction of an inch.
"Surprised, are we?"
"Emm... Kinda, si."
"Next time, my dear, I will give you this advice: a bullet is more effective than mere explosives."
It was Sombra's turn to chuckle, albeit nervously. "That won't be necessary. We're on the same side now, okay?"
"Sure." With that, Zarya lifted a finger to Sombra's nose. "What is it... 'boop'?" with that, she squidged down on Sombra's nose, deforming it by an inch.
"OW! Hey!"
Jack and Gabriel were only vaguely aware of the somewhat hilarious exchange. They were overlooking the remnants of the Talon building. "Now what?"
"We should pump him for information."
Gabriel was surprised. Normally, Jack would never suggest torture should be carried out, even in the most dire of circumstances. For him to change tack, that showed how serious this was. Even for him.
"Reckon he knows where they've taken them, Jack?"
"You should know. I hope."
Gabriel huffed at this statement, amused. "Yeah, he will."
"Well, what are you waiting for? Let's get on with the job."
