The Engineer assumed that the last sound he would hear was a bang. The last place he expected it to come from was the front door.
Gray narrowed his eyes. His robots did not knock. They opened doors, they kept out of places that were locked, they hailed their appearance with loud praise for their creator—but they did not knock. He looked at the Engineer. The Texan gave a shrug. It wasn't like he had ordered a pizza or a candygram. He appreciated the last couple of seconds the distraction gave him, but it wasn't like there was much he could do, other than attempt to dodge bullets.
Pulling his gun back, Gray addressed the knocker. "Hello?"
There was no reply.
The withered technician couldn't believe this nonsense. He glared at Dell, then looked at the robot restraining him. It was best to kill the Engineer before he handled whatever was going on at the door. Sighing, he pointed the gun at the Texan's forehead once more. "I'll handle that in a minute. Now, where were we?"
"I believe you were about to kill me," the Engineer announced. His voice was just a little bit too loud and eager with the proclamation of his impending demise.
Gray shook his head. "You don't have to yell at me. I'm not—"
The end of his sentence and the door to his laboratory splintered with a large boom. Rockets blasted across the lab, twisting every which way they rolled. The Heavy robot turned around. His confused face ate another rocket. With a clang and a shower of sparks, the robot fell to the ground in a heap of scrap. A louder, brash yell echoed in the room as the Soldier charged inside the lab.
Gray snapped his revolver towards the Soldier's face. His efforts to defend himself came to an abrupt end as the Soldier cracked an extendable shovel across his face. The old man collapsed, his nose and some of his teeth smashed into pieces. Crawling away, he blindly fired where the Soldier once stood. Another slam had him shoved up against the wall, his right arm wrenched backwards at an agonizing angle. The Heavy shouted at him with an accent so thick and fierce that he became incomprehensible.
A series of pops came from behind the Engineer's head. The Demoman's cheerful brogue announced his success. "Got the door wired up. I'll keep my eye on it."
"Sehr gut," the Medic cheered. His fingers brushed the Engineer's bound arms. "Ack! One moment, und I will have you released und fixed up!"
The Engineer beamed. "Much appreciated, Doc."
The Heavy whipped Gray Mann into another chair. As soon as the Medic had released the Engineer, he tossed the chains across the room. He patched up the Engineer while the Spy took on a darker duty. He locked the discarded chains around Gray, leaving little wiggle room. The Scout marched back and forth in front of the open door, keeping guard with the Demoman. The last thing they needed was for any reinforcements to get inside this room.
"Now, if you would be so kind, Monsieur Mann…" The Spy began his interrogation as the Engineer worked some feeling back into his human hand and left shoulder. "You will be telling us your password into our respawn network."
Gray rolled his head back. His response was less than helpful. He spat a loose tooth and blood onto the Spy's face. The Frenchman pulled back, then wiped the gore from his face. He had more offensive bodily parts and liquids tossed on him before. A little blood and bone was benign, in comparison.
The Soldier was not quite as forgiving for the offense. He cracked Gray in the head once more. "Listen, you mummified maggot! We aren't leaving your tropical paradise of a hellhole until we get that password!"
Gray stared blankly back at the Soldier. It wasn't so much out of defiance as it was out of his demise. The Soldier pulled back, realizing what he had done. He looked at his shovel, then at Gray's head once more. It was turned a little too far to the right for a normal human's head. He gave a nervous look at the Medic, then back at the corpse.
"Whoops," the Soldier said.
The Scout was livid. "Did—did you just kill the guy we came here to get a password out of?" He clutched his temples, then started stomping around. "How stupid can you be? God! This is why we always have the French freak do this kinda crap!"
"Don't call him a freak, honey," his mother's voice scolded through his headset.
Miss Pauling was a little more focused with the new problem. "Please tell me that he's going to revive in the same location that you all killed him."
The Scout gave a shrug. "Probably. That's what those other old guys used to do. Every time they came back, though? They smelled like—"
He hadn't finished his thoughts before the old man reared upwards. His eyes rolled forward with a sick squelch. Teeth and cartilage in his nose sprang into place once more. With a dull rumble, Gray came back to life. He foamed, then began shouting at the Soldier. "You moron! Did you think you could so easily kill me?"
"Well, that wasn't the goal," the Soldier shrugged. "It was fun, though."
The Engineer tried to get the team and their nemesis back on track. Spinning a monitor around, the Engineer plopped into a nearby chair. He began typing commands, speaking his thoughts as he went. "We could be here all day, Mister Mann. I recommend that you give us what we're lookin' for so we can get along."
"Why would I ever tell you my password?" Gray huffed. "You plebeians get in the way of my only two pleasures in this life—territorial control and scientific research! Having you out of my hair gave me the best year of my life!"
The Spy leaned over Gray's shoulder. "We are not trying to be a nuisance, Monsieur. We merely want our freedom back."
"I gave you freedom. From war, from your miserable lives—from all of this. And this savagery is how you repay me?" Gray spat.
The Heavy shook his head, then gave the Soldier a glance. The American bobbed his head in agreement. "If I knew interrogations were going to be this boring, I wouldn't have gotten out of the tank."
The Engineer sighed. He cracked his neck, then began typing once more. "Suppose we can try brute forcin' this. Though, I would have done this back home, if I thought it was goin' ta come to this. Any suggestions?"
The Soldier was already prepared. "One-one-one-one!"
"What sort of moron would use that?" Gray huffed.
It was as he said. Gray wouldn't use such a simplistic password. The Engineer leaned back, then tried another combination. "Nope. Not one-two-three-four, either."
Now, Gray was seething. "Do you all take me to be an imbecile?"
The Medic tipped his head. If there was anything he loved, it was a guessing game. "Robot?"
"Negative. Not robots, tank, or tanks, either," the Engineer replied. "Keep 'em comin', boys. I'm havin' fun watchin' Gray turn colors."
"What do you take this for? A game?" Gray roared. "Where are those damned robots when you can use their assistance?"
The team collectively ignored his complaints. The Demoman leaned against the front door, then poked one of his sticky bombs. "Zephaniah?"
"Good guess, but nope. Not Bette, either," the Engineer said. He frowned, then shook his head. "Hold on. Got booted. Gonna need to restart the access program."
Gray hanged his head in embarrassment. "Why don't you all just murder me again?"
"Later," the Medic rejected Gray's proposal. His eyebrows lifted, his smile broad. "Oh! Kill all humans?"
A few more tries and tests did nothing. The Engineer shook his head. "Negative."
"No, no. It wouldn't be something like that," the Soldier rejected the idea. "If it was going to be a phrase, it would be that stupid thing his robots say all the time. You know. All hail the maker?"
The furious shades of red on Gray's face went white as ice. All six members of the remaining teammates glared at him. The Engineer bobbed his head, then began typing permutations of that phrase on the keyboard. His face lit up as the computer gave a happy little chirp. The frustrations from losing him teammates and the pain of his injuries remained, but he finally felt like he had taken some ground back.
"Could've made this a lot easier on yourself, Gray," the Engineer sighed. "And on us, too."
The Spy shrugged his shoulders. "It was not a total loss. We did take down a good amount of his facilities and forces."
"Do your thing, little man. Then we go," the Heavy encouraged the Engineer.
Gray rolled his eyes. "Yes. Go ahead. Play on my machines. Make yourself at home, why don't you?"
The Engineer shook his head. Perhaps this was a little bit more hazardous than he thought. "Remind me to change my password when we get home."
His left hand flew across the keyboard, his right hand struggling to keep up. It didn't take him long to unlock his account, restore access to Miss Pauling and the Administrator, and reset the respawn points to Hydro. He lingered on one file a little too long, his mind clouded. What a waste. His friends had put their lives on the line for a word that an idiot had guessed. If he hadn't been such a coward, he would have remotely hacked into Gray's account.
Hopefully, the Pyro and Sniper would forgive him.
"Don't mean to push you, mates, but we best get goin'," the Demoman said. "Think one of the big copies 'a me got stuck in the stairwell. I can hear him crappin' bombs."
Gray lowered his eyebrows. "Those stupid machines never could figure out their size."
"Nothin's perfect," the Engineer muttered. "Sometimes, it's a big, dumb robot, and sometimes, it's a compromised network."
The Engineer lifted his head, wondering what to do with Gray. It wasn't as if the team could let him go. He wasn't going to be dying any time soon, either. If his back brace was going to keep reviving him instead of the respawn system, they would have to make sure he stayed dead long enough for them to escape. A horrific urge crossed his mind. Even a wooden stake would keep the almighty Dracula in place.
There was a better place for Gray, though. The Engineer opened logs from last year, then began scanning their contents. Sure enough, he found the coordinates that he wanted. Perhaps it was a cruel place to send him, but he wasn't sure where else would slow Gray down. At least in that one special location, he would have deterrents to keep him busy. He typed in a series of coordinates, then saved the file belonging to Gray.
Scraping him out of the system was going to take months—much longer than it would have taken to remove anyone at the beginning of this war.
"Spy? Do your thing," the Engineer ordered.
"Oh, yes. Kill me again," Gray huffed. "Because that worked so well the first—"
The rest of his sentence disappeared in an awkward gasp. The Spy drove his knife into the pulsing yellow core laced in the old man's back. He wrenched the contraption free. Blood spilled, ancient vertebrae peeking out of his withered flesh. The team waited with quiet anxiousness for the body to move. Slowly, it faded away, as if it were never meant to be seen in the light of day.
"Where did he go?" the Heavy asked.
The Engineer smirked. "Same place he was gonna send me."
The peace was short lived. A thick projectile crashed into the side of Gray's skyscraper. Even if their master was gone, the robots that remained were still eager to kill on his behalf. The Engineer logged out of the system as fast as possible, then grabbed the machine's hard drive. He pitched it out of the front door and the windows. It shattered thirty stories below, fragmented beyond repair.
"Yo, Miss P?" the Scout hailed the Hydro base. "I think we're done here."
Miss Pauling's voice was warm in their ears. "Come back. We'll be waiting for you."
The Heavy lead the charge out of Gray's skyscraper. It was by no means going to be an easy descent, but he knew he could make it. The Medic was on his heels. If anyone was going to make sure the remaining teammates stayed safe, it was going to be him. Both the Demoman and the Scout rushed out the front door, one quickly overtaking the other. The Soldier paused, only to pat the Engineer on the shoulder. He gave a large smile to his teammate, then led him towards the stairwell.
"You've done me proud," the Soldier boasted.
The Engineer put on his best smile. "Thank you."
Even tearing through every last robot on the island felt like busywork. The Engineer's sentries had held on long enough to destroy a good hunk at the base of the building. It didn't take them too long to descend down the myriad of staircases. A dispenser here and there kept the team replenished and refueled. The Engineer savored every strike of his wrench against metal. It kept him awake, alive.
The seven men piled into the Soldier's commandeered tank. It wasn't worth the time to go retrieve the other one. They barreled out of the island base, bullets and rockets flying out of the back. Chugging away felt so satisfying. The Demoman's face was split with a wide grin, one he shared with his sullen teammate.
"Got a present for you all," the Demoman smirked. "Watch this."
The Demoman raised his sticky launcher, then clicked its activator. Fire swelled from the core of the towering skyscraper. The Engineer's jaw dropped as thirty stories of concrete and glass were swallowed by dust and flames. Heat rolled across the back of the tank and the faces of the men firing out of the open back door. A roar of applause and cheering rocked the van. The team threw arms around each other, nearly choking each other with big hugs. Even the stern Spy was overcome with just the slightest touch of glee.
"Probably the best thing that's happened all day, Tavish," the Engineer murmured.
"Probably?" The Demoman held his grin. "Mate, I'd hate to know what you possibly think could beat that."
Fire, carnage, and screaming metal disappeared behind the waves and past the sands. The darkness swallowed what had been the source of all of their pain. The Engineer never turned his face from the rear-view mirror. Even as his friends fell asleep and shifted around him, he kept watching that polished piece of glass. In it, he saw the day's failures and successes, his head too burdened by his heart to weight them.
But they had won. They weren't all here, but they were saved.
Everything else was left in the hands of fate.
/***/
Miss Pauling and the Scout's mother couldn't stop hugging.
Perhaps it was immature for a professional assistant and a stay-at-home mom to keep doing this, but they couldn't get over the feeling of victory. The weight that had oppressed them for over a year was gone. They could live anywhere, move as they pleased, live without the invisible eye of a tyrant over their shoulders. The whole state would recover. The robots would be driven out, and…
…and that would be it.
Miss Pauling sat up. "I don't have a boss."
"You'll find her," the Scout's mother encouraged her.
"I'm going to be out of a job," the little assistant murmured.
That cheerful grin that had gotten her through thousands of miles of driving perked up once again. "You'll be okay, sweetheart. You can do anything."
Such freedom—such joy—she had forgotten about them. She smiled, then hugged the Scout's mother once again. Even if this wasn't the end—even if another Mann appeared or Saxton Hale hired them all to punch kangaroos for a living—they had accomplished this. The two of them had saved their men, their homes. In turn, they had gone out and saved their lives. It was too much to take in at once.
The odd cough behind them was a little off-putting, too. "Ah…bonjour?"
Both the Scout's mother and Miss Pauling reeled back. They squeaked in surprise and a little bit of fright. Standing in front of them was the color-swapped version of the Spy they had sent out. His suit had reconstituted with a fine layer of soot and burn marks peppered all over it. Neither woman knew what to make of the reappearance.
Miss Pauling lowered the microphone on her headset. "We've got a Spy here, but not your Spy."
"Yo, Engie! Spy Deux's back in Hydro!" the Scout relayed the message. After a mumbling and a short pause, he replied back. "He set both teams to respawn in Hydro. Said to tell 'em the situation. He's hoping to set up another truce and explain what all happened."
Miss Pauling's eyes widened. "You're willing to work with the other team?"
"Hey—eighteen perfect idiots work a lot better than nine," the Scout sassed.
"Wow," the Scout's mother sighed. She perked up again, then smiled. "Say—truce effective now, or not?"
The other Spy was confused about the situation. "Excusez-Moi?"
"Do what you must do," her paramour advised.
The Scout's mother held a wicked grin. "Thanks, sweetheart." She put her microphone aside, then stood up. The second Spy backed away from her, apprehensive about her evil glare. Not even activating his invisible watch saved him from being pinned against the wall.
"Hi, sugar," she grinned. "We've gotta talk."
This did little to put the other Spy at ease. "Is it about the photos I leaked?"
"That's a good place to start," the Scout's mother nodded.
Not even the brave Miss Pauling would step into that battle.
/***/
Author's Note
Hey, wait! I'm not done yet!
You've just begun to see the ending…which I'll put up tomorrow.