Author's Note: I love all the guesswork I'm getting! I particularly like the way no one is guessing correctly, because I'm a horrible human being, as my lovely reviewers often tell me :). There was much rejoicing over Medic's survival in the last chapter, so let us now continue and find out what is happening with that mysterious Scout...
Make sure you admire this chapter's artwork over at sanctuscecidit deviantart com!
Send In The Clones: Part Two
Chapter Twenty-Five: An Unexpected Patient
New Orleans, November 1968
The horribly hot weather had finally subsided a little, and Gerhardt Weiss was catching up on some much needed sleep. He found the climate in Louisiana very difficult to cope with- he seemed to be spending his life bathed in sweat. Occasionally, he woke up and coughed, rubbing his aching throat irritably before falling asleep again in his narrow, lumpy bed. He had even pulled a thin blanket over himself for warmth and was drifting through a dream about breathing underwater when he heard someone banging urgently on the front door.
He woke with a snort and sat up, blinking and groping around for his glasses. It was still dark, so he switched the light on and then swore as it blinded him.
"Hey, is this the Doc's house? Open up! Emergency!" A muffled voice shouted through the wooden door, pounding on it again. Weiss' sleep-addled head thought the voice sounded vaguely familiar, but could not quite place it. There was the noise of creaking floorboards from the next room.
"Doktor? There is noisy person at door." Sergei Cherny called through the wall.
"Ja, coming, I hear zhem." He threw a labcoat over his pyjamas with an irritated mutter. Unfortunately, some of his more colourful patients tended to show up in the small hours, and he and Sergei had a standard practice for dealing with them: Weiss would open the door, while Cherny would hover nearby with his shotgun ready for any sign of trouble. The word had rapidly spread through the criminal network of the city: Weiss could cure anything, but you had better not make trouble, and pay up promptly. It had worked well: he had only got shot once, which Weiss considered an acceptable track record. As for the man who had shot him, well, most of him was found. Eventually.
"C'mon, man! He's dyin'!"
"I'm here, vhat is..." Weiss opened the door. "Mein Gott!"
A slender young man stood in the door, holding another young man who was obviously badly injured. He was bent over, his bloody hands pressed hard into his abdomen and moaning in pain. The uninjured man looked up at Weiss and his mouth dropped open.
"Holy shit!" He cried. "You're a Medic! The fuck are you doing here?! Did you escape those bastards too?"
"Scout?" Weiss said incredulously.
"Is leetle Scout?" Cherny asked in astonishment. "How did he get here?"
"And a Heavy too?" Scout said. He paused and shook his head. "Damn, that's...no, wait, look, you gotta help him. He got shot in the gut. You got that gun o' yours, Doc? I'll pay, I got money, lots o' money."
"Er...ja, of course." Weiss said, shaking himself and gesturing to the Scout to follow him. "Bring him zhrough."
The injured man was hauled through and placed on the stretcher in Weiss' treatment room. Cherny and Weiss finally got a good look at him.
"You are both Scouts?" Sergei asked, as Gerhardt quickly flicked the large stationary medigun on and put it on a low setting- enough to keep the man alive while he removed the shot, but not enough to heal the wound too early. The Russian was right- the injured, semi-conscious man was also a Scout. Not only that, but they both had long, messy black hair, green eyes, a narrow face and the same clothing. In fact, they were absolutely identical.
"Yeah. We were at Gullywash. I was with BLU, and there was this new RED Scout who signed on. Looked like my long lost twin. We got talkin', outside of battle, and we both realised some serious shit was goin' down."
"Oh, zhat sounds familiar." Weiss said sourly, reaching for a pair of long forceps. "I am...I was...29/c. I met 29/b and zhen zhey killed him. Zhat is zhe, eh, short version of zhe story."
"And they didn't kill you? Man, you got lucky. I'm 4/b and my friend here is 4/r. Those purple bastards- they killed every fucking dude in the base. I heard these gun shots and screams... we were doin' laps of the base. We had no weapons on us so..." Scout cleared his throat and looked slightly embarassed. "..We ran. Started out fresh and stuff, made a new life. How's Rick doing, Doc?"
"He should recover. I just need to remove zhe shotgun pellets and close up zhe vound." Weiss commented.
"He chose name Rick?" Cherny asked.
"Yeah. I'm Bobby Ford, an' he's Rick Ford. We look so alike, we decided we'd best pose as identical twins, y'know?"
"I suppose zhat is logical." Weiss replied thoughtfully.
"Jesus fuck..." Rick suddenly groaned, writhing in pain. "Th' hell happened?"
"Chill, bro, it's all ok." Bobby replied. "You got shot, but hey, look who fixed ya up!"
"Holy shit! You're a Medic!" Rick gasped, grabbing Weiss' arm with a bloody hand. "The fuck are you doing here?! Did you escape the bastards too?"
"Lay still, Scout." Weiss ordered, carefully grabbing his hand and detaching it. "You have a lot of shot inside you still."
"Y'know, we gotta stay in contact." Bobby said. "I bet you need us. Is this how you're makin' money, huh? Stitching up badass criminals like us?"
"Scout is criminal now?" Cherny asked.
"Hell dude, shows what you know. I always was, why'd do you think I joined BLU...or RED...or whatever the fuck happened. They drop a shit-ton of money into the right hands, boom, there goes my juvie record!"
"Bitte sehr." Weiss removed a final pellet and dropped it into a kidney dish with a ping and stifled a cough. "All done."
"You gonna heal this massive rip in my guts or what?" Rick asked, panting for breath.
Weiss muttered in irritation, and turned up the dials on the suspended medi-gun, quickly knitting Rick's wounded abdomen back together. The wounded man sighed with relief and sat up.
"Wow, Doc, you're just as..." Rick started.
"...Amazing as ever!" Bobby continued, talking over the top of him. "It's fuckin' lucky we..."
"...Heard about this mad doctor who'd..." Rick said.
"...Operate on stone cold criminals like us..." Bobby interrupted.
"...But I never thought it'd be you, Medic..."
"...I mean, what's the chance?"
"So, what's your story?" Rick asked.
Weiss blinked rapidly, looking between the two identical men, his mouth opening and closing. "Do... do you alvays do zhat?"
"Do what?" Bobby asked, his brow wrinkling. "Oh, you mean..."
"...Talking over each other? Yeah, it just sorta..."
"...Happens that way."
"'Least, it does when I'm not shot in the guts." Rick finished. They both shrugged.
"It is very irritating." Weiss said.
"Yeah? Never thought of it that way." Rick replied.
"So, how'd do you end up in this shithole?" Bobby asked, looking around the room with a grimace.
"Is long story." Cherny replied. "I tell you all about it..."
"So, zhere ve are." Medic finished telling his tale to the fugitives as Demo and Soldier staggered back into the camp. "Zhey are making money by robbing banks. Zhey say it is all zhey are qualified to do. Zhey have made quite a substantial sum of money."
"I don't suppose it occurred to any of you escapees to earn money in a manner that was not morally reprehensible?" Violet Spy asked.
"What's wrong with being a paediatrician?" Soldier asked in puzzlement as Demo sat him down again and pulled a blanket over him. Demo just rolled his eyes tiredly.
"Not much choice with no papers to say who we are." Heavy pointed out. "You want job, people want name and what last employer thought of you, or bank account numbers, or passport."
"Well, this at least, I can fix." Spy said, stubbing out his cigarette and immediately getting a new one out. "I will arrange for your various certificates to gain their final inking during my trip today."
"But you said..." Medic started, but Spy waved a gloved hand.
"Yes, I said you could have them later. However..." He sighed and rubbed his forehead. "The situation has changed, oui? I believe we have little choice but to work together now. Our fates are entwined."
"Danke, I suppose." Medic said grudgingly.
"These documents take quite some time to perfect, but perhaps I should obtain them for all of us." Spy mused. "It may take months though. However, this is beside the point. Can you contact these Scouts?"
"Yes and no..." Medic said. "Zhey told us vhere zhey vould be going next. Ve can meet zhem zhere."
"They said they have target in Minnesota next, in town called Grand Rapids. They look for quiet town with small bank, not much money, but not much security either. We were to meet afterwards in place on map." Heavy looked towards Medic, who shrugged. "Or just I, if Gerhardt too sick to travel by then."
"I believe vhat zhey actually said vas 'I guess it'd just be you if the old dude has copped it by zhen'."
"Tactful." Spy commented.
"I found it a refreshing change." Medic replied, "And now it seems I can give zhem a surprise. Rggh, zhat misdiagnosis is so irritating. It has ruined all my plans."
"It also means you will live. Surely that is a good thing?" Spy asked curiously.
"Ach, yes, of course, but if I had known it was somezhing so simply cured, I vould never have run from Teufort and ended up..."
"Alive?" Spy pointed out.
"Spy is... right." Heavy said grudgingly. "If we had not run, we would have been gassed with others. Soldier would be dead, too, since you would not be alive to heal him. This is best way things could turn out."
"That is a sad commentary in itself." Spy added. "If this is good luck, what would bad luck look like?"
"Y'know what? I don't deal in what-ifs. There is just plain no point. We're here now, and I say we should get a hold of these Scouts." Engineer said. "Dag nab it, though, like one wasn't noisy enough...when're they robbing this here bank?"
"They said on 16th July. Is same day as launch of big rocket to moon. Good distraction, they said. Many people watching television that day." Heavy explained.
"Aww heck, I wanted to watch that." Engineer grumbled.
"Eh, you believe some rubbish, Engie." Demo said, holding a tin mug up for Soldier. "It's all a sham, they're just pretendin' tae send astronauts to the moon to get one over yon Russkis. Eh...no offence pal."
"Hnn." Heavy muttered, crossing his arms.
"Wait a doggone second there, Demo- you believe in the Loch Ness Monster but not Apollo 11?"
"I know what I saw! An' look at the facts: the yanks lost the pissing contest over sendin' a man intae space first, now they want to prove their place inna playground, am I right? Why spend all that money when they could just hire some actors?"
"But the Americans were the first to send a man into space! I remember it well. That George Gregory went up in his big rocket." Soldier stated. There was an awkward silence.
"Leaving that aside," Spy said tactfully, "It seems we have some much-needed breathing space. Time to recover and consolidate."
"Now we're all on the same page, Medic and I can start thinkin' of ways to shut down the cloning systems. For good, if we can." Engineer said.
"I'll find us good places to stay an' whatnot." Sniper suggested.
"I shall see about creating more forgeries, and also paying for any goods." Spy sighed briefly. "So much for spending my declining years rich and decadent."
"Wait, wait, what can I do?" Soldier said. "I demand to be given a useful task."
"Your task is to get fit enough zhat you can fight again." Medic pointed out. "Zhe paralysis vill lessen over time as zhe remaining nerve agent is metabolised and zhe damage repaired."
"Or ye can have an honourable discharge." Demo added with a grin.
"WHAT!" Soldier shouted, struggling to sit up and failing. "The day I stop fighting is the day I die!"
"Very probably." Spy muttered.
"Were you always a smartarse or did you work at it?" Sniper asked.
"It's a calling." Spy replied idly, waving his cigarette. "Trés bien, we have a direction. Once Soldier is well enough to travel, we head north and give these Scouts a surprise."
"I'll pack my earplugs." Engineer replied with a sigh.
In Chapter Twenty-Six: Let's see what the Violet Engineer has been up to all this time...
Translations:
Bitte sehr - There we go (Medic says this in the Meet the Medic video when he puts Heavy's heart back in. Well, either 'bitte sehr' or 'put it zhere', it's hard to tell).