The shark has been dissected. Now comes the midterm. Younger author is hiding under a pile of notes and studying, hence things have been late... Oh, we don't own TF2 or any of its characters, and we certainly don't own the super badass organization here mentioned...
Miss Pauling stepped into the workshop and stared.
RED Engineer grinned as he wiped his hands off on a greasy rag. "You like it, Miss Pauling?"
"Oh my God," said cool, unflappable Miss Pauling, staring. She had to tilt her head back a little.
BLU Engineer took a swig of beer. "Told him you'd say that. Looks like we'd both been workin' on plans for a mobile, manually operated sentry for some time now. Only thing was, we were thinkin' a little too small."
"Now we've got somethin' a little more useful in a combat situation," RED Engineer continued. "It'll take two to operate it, but it'll be somethin' to see when it's in action."
Miss Pauling swallowed. "Well done," she said, herself again. "I think you've just made up for all the damage the damn Medics did. Get it ready to go. We need to get to TF Industries immediately."
"The Medics?" BLU looked up with a slight frown as he set his beer aside. "What fool thing have they done this time? Sewn someone's hand to their forehead?"
RED laughed.
"Tried out a new instant sober-izng compound on the Pyros," said Miss Pauling.
"Damn." BLU rose to join RED in getting their things packed away. "Well so long as they've got it all squared away now, right?"
"For now," said Miss Pauling, "I'll be happy if they detach them from the ceiling."
The door slammed open. "Where's me bloody van?" demanded BLU Sniper.
Both Engineers looked up, frowning. "Uh... we don't have it, if that's what you're implyin'," BLU told him.
"Where'd y'all park it last?" RED asked.
"Oh," said Miss Pauling. "I sent the Spies ahead. It was what was available."
For one moment Sniper just stared at her in disbelief. Then he started shouting.
"WOT THE BLOODY 'ELL DID YA DO THAT FOR?! I LIVE IN THAT VAN, IT'S GOT ALL MY STUFF IN IT! AND YOU LET THE BLOODY SPOYS DRIVE IT AHEAD OF US? WOT IF THEY SABOTAGE IT?!"
"Take it easy there son," BLU Engineer replied, sounding mildly surprised. "I mean, this is an emergency-"
"WOT WOULD YOU DO IF A BLOOMIN' SPOOK DROVE YOUR TRUCK OFF INTO THE SUNSET WITHOUT YOU KNOWING?!"
"It was the other alternative," said Miss Pauling, "But you left the keys in the transmission, and I needed them out of here as quickly as possible."
Sniper cracked his knuckles out of nerves, looking around the room. "If they get into my food..." he grumbled, more to himself than anyone, "I'll wring both their filthy necks, the weasels..."
"Aw come on, we've got plenty of food at the base." RED smiled slightly.
Sniper turned back to Pauling, teeth gritted together. "Roight. If... if it wos necessary... bloody hell though..." He sighed and sank into a seat. "An' they wos both goin' on about how it smelled like piss the other noight."
Miss Pauling, inclined to agree with the Spies, merely shrugged. "We'll be gone within the hour. Get your things."
Sniper scowled at her before leaving. "It doesn't smell like piss," he muttered on the way out.
BLU Engineer sighed. "He can just hitch a ride with the RED anyways. Hopefully the Spahs'll be too busy doin' what you want 'em to do to do anything to his van. They argue enough as it is."
RED Engineer snorted. "Good luck with that. Now lesse... we've got most everything packed onto this sucker already."
"Good." Miss Pauling looked up at the truck, shook her head and made for the door. "Pardon me. I need to get my affairs in order as well."
Almost dark, the last long rays of sunlight came in low through the windshields of the little cavalcade, lighting the dust behind them. There was a lot of squinting going on, and a lot of arguing in the back of Miss Pauling's purple pickup. Some idiot had bundled the Medics and the Demomen and the Pyros in the same vehicle.
RED Medic edged as close to the door as he could to avoid the glare of BLU Demoman. He didn't want to try to explain himself (even though he was certain everyone was overreacting; the Pyros and Demomen should have known better than to get wasted before a battle like THIS), and he certainly didn't want the Demoman within arm's reach of himself or anything he held dear.
"Zho... zho how long vill it be, do you zhink?" he asked no one in particular as politely as he could.
"Another half hour," said Miss Pauling over her shoulder, steering neatly around a squashed armadillo. The back window on the truck was open. A Pyro rode on the front seat of the truck, making excited comments.
"Danke." RED fell silent again.
The BLU Demoman gave both Medics a vicious, one-eyed glare and settled back to sharpening the Eyelander. BLU Medic thought this was unwise, it being a moving vehicle, but had no desire to say anything about it and get the Demomen angry again.
The Snipers followed behind in RED's van, and the mechanical monstrosity of the Engineers followed that. An enormous dust cloud kicked up behind it.
RED Medic looked back at it through the rear window, fingers drumming the armrest. Soon now...
BLU started checking the Medigun over again. "Here's hoping zhis von't short out again..." he muttered.
"I zhink it vill vork," RED Medic muttered back. "Vhe took all zhe precautions."
"It might not work?" RED Demoman looked up. "Well. It isna as if I expected anythin' other."
"It might not vork, Herr Demoman," RED Medic said coldly, "in zhe same vay zhat your sticky launcher may not vork. It is not likely; it is only a possibility."
BLU Pyro said something. "Like tha serum had a possibility a not workin'?" BLU Demoman translated.
"It...vas better zhan vomiting more, ja?" said BLU Medic, a little hopefully.
"Zhat vas completely different," RED Medic snapped. "Vhe KNOW zhis vorks. It is simply a matter of... ach, forget it." He muttered something in German and looked back out the window.
BLU Medic looked down and tried to pay attention to the circuits in the medigun. He'd looked at them too many times; they blended into an uninteresting mass before his eyes.
They kept driving.
RED Medic was about ready to start banging his head into the car window. It smelled like scrumpy and stale vomit, and the scenery didn't seem to change as they moved. "Are vhe almost zhere?"
"Twenty minutes," said Miss Pauling.
"Danke." Twenty minutes... he could make twenty minutes. Hopefully.
Miss Pauling, for her part, was beginning to have some sympathy for her mother's testiness during family road trips. She strongly doubted that she and Agatha had managed to be any more vexing than her current passengers, who were, to make things worse, allegedly adults. Responsibility had always been out of the question but really, they were supposed to be professionals.
Finally they reached the base. It was built, surprisingly enough, along the same lines as the place they'd rescued the others from the other night, with the exception that a large shiny office building shielded most of it from the view of a nearby road. There was a well maintained lawn in front, and a lot of vehicles parked around the outskirts, some with very big floodlights attached, bathing the entire scene in artificial glare.
RED Medic sighed with relief. He'd never been a man to sit back and wait for things. He needed action.
"Oh, lovely. The entire US army," said Miss Pauling, and turned the engine off. She tried to put the car in gear before leaving it; it made a reluctant grinding noise. "Not now," she grumbled, pumped the clutch and wrenched the gearshift down. Things cooperated.
The van parked beside them, and the... enormous mobile sentry-tank pulled up alongside. RED Sniper stuck his head out of the window. "Wot's the plan?"
"I talk to them," said Miss Pauling. "It'd be nice if they realized we were all on the same side. Less paperwork."
A man in a uniform, obviously a high-ranking officer of some sort, strode sharply over to Pauling's pickup. "Are you Miss Pauling?" he asked gruffly.
"Yes," said Miss Pauling. The syringe gun lay on the seat next to her, hidden from the officer's view. Probably better that way; didn't want him getting nervous because she was armed. Visibly.
"You are aware of the situation regarding your employer, TF Industries?" The man leaned a little closer, a frown on his face. A soldier (not a Soldier, mind) stood outside the window and was watching the people inside the car carefully, hands on his gun. RED put his hands slowly down to rest on his medi-gun.
Meanwhile, a small group was approaching the Engineers very warily. A few more were already at the van.
"That's why I'm here," said Miss Pauling. She wondered whether to open the car door.
"Please step out of the vehicle," the man replied, a slight frown pulling at the corners of his mouth.
Miss Pauling looked at the Pyro, shrugged a bit, and did. The door stuck a bit, but she managed to give it a superstitious kick and step out without seeming too ridiculous.
The man motioned for the others to leave the vehicle as well. "Are you armed?" he asked her sternly.
RED Medic set his jaw but tried to relax. He had his Blutsauger if worst came to worst. Slowly he exited the vehicle.
Miss Pauling shook her head. She didn't think he'd count a nail file as a weapon. "Are you in charge here?" she asked.
"Yes ma'am."
"Oh this is ridiculous," came BLU Sniper's grumble as someone began patting him down. RED Sniper looked like he might punch the first person to lay a hand on him. Meanwhile the others- Soldiers, Scouts, and Heavies- were unloading from the back of the van. Someone had got out a megaphone in an attempt to talk with the Engineers atop their giant tank thing.
"Right. What's your plan of action-" Miss Pauling looked at his uniform, "Colonel? It'll be very difficult to get in if you don't have a cohesive one."
The Colonel's frown became, if possible, even more pronounced. He was an older man, square and with a face rather like a bulldog's, but with keen bright blue eyes. "Ma'am, you are aware that we have every reason to suspect you of helping your employers in this assault on the U.S. government, aren't you?"
RED Medic tensed very slightly but kept his hand from moving to where the gun was secured inside his labcoat.
"Sir, if you could raise your arms so we can search you for weapons," a man grunted.
"They're imposters," said Miss Pauling. "TF Industries has been infiltrated by a hostile force. We're here to help."
"We will investigate your claim ma'am, but first you and your friends will have to come with me."
"SIRS, WE NEED YOU TO EXIT THE VEHICLE," came the boom over the megaphone. The Engineers made no move to get out yet.
"No. We will have this discussion right here and your men will cease searching mine," said Miss Pauling. "We will render all possible aid, but we will need your cooperation."
"GET YOUR HANDS OFF OF ME, I AM NOT SOME CIVILIAN PERSON YOU CAN JUST BOSS AROUND AND DETAIN AND- IF YOU TOUCH THAT ROCKET LAUNCHER MY BOOT WILL GO SO FAR UP YOUR ASS IT WILL HAVE TO BE SURGICALLY REMOVED, PRIVATE!"
"If you are obstructive, not only am I fully authorized to take whatever measures said obstruction merits, but I will be sending a highly unfavorable report to our superiors."
"I appreciate your position, ma'am, but you're still a civilian. It's in your best interest to cooperate."
"SIRS, IF YOU DO NOT EXIT THE VEHICLE WE ARE AUTHORIZED TO USE NECESSARY FORCE TO BRING YOU IN."
"It's moi van, and I don't want ya searchin' it! There's nuffin' in there!"
"And who told you I was a civilian?" said Miss Pauling. She produced an ID badge from somewhere around her person. The officer peered at it.
"What the hell's SHIELD?" he said, taken aback. "This can't be a military badge!"
"Would you like to stake your career on that?" said Miss Pauling. "Because that's exactly what you're doing, Mister. Tell your men to stand down or you'll be explaining to a court martial why your obstructionist disinclination to cooperate with a specialized organization in a time of crisis placed the entire operation in jeopardy."
The man's frown was now a genuine scowl, but he hesitated. "Well... as much as I hate to say it, that looks genuine." He turned to the men who were trying to get around Sniper so they could search his van. "Stand down-" he started.
"ARREST THAT WOMAN!" snarled an all too familiar voice. RED Medic jumped, blinking in dismay at the figure approaching. But...but they'd left his head on the lab bench!