And updated! I hope we're not being too terribly infrequent, but school...is kinda evil right now. Younger author is still studying for the exam on the shark, and trying to write a grant application (OH GOD) while older author is actually being an adult and going to work. The idea horrifies the younger author too.
Standard disclaimer.
"Darn," said Miss Pauling, and grabbed the officer from behind, putting the nail file to his throat. "Don't even think it," she said to the man approaching them, an exact replica of the Head in RED Medic's lab.
The officer stiffened but otherwise didn't move. From the look on his face, you'd think he was mildly irritated at something that happened all the time instead of being held more or less hostage. "SHIELD huh?" he said dryly, then was quiet because that file was a bit sharper than he'd expected.
RED Medic didn't hesitate but pulled out his syringe gun. At the same time the sentry-tank whirred to life, gun spinning to point at the clone-Head running toward the group.
"Try not to kill them. The paperwork would be appalling," she said, then, "One of my friends works for them. We pick each others' pockets on a regular basis. Trust me, you don't want to meet the real thing."
"Now vhat?" said BLU Medic to RED, fighting with his syringe gun.
"Just try not to kill anyvon, ja?" RED Medic replied, though he certainly looked... well, he had that same grin on his face he usually got when he ran into battle.
"Shouldn't we try ta get away from here?" BLU Sniper shouted. He was already climbing back into the van; the people near him didn't seem to want to attack, partially because of RED Sniper's suspicious jar and the crazed look on his face.
"Yep. You're coming with us," said Miss Pauling to the colonel. "For a bit. As soon as we're in, we'll leave you at the gate."
The colonel thought it best not to answer, but he did gulp slightly.
The two teams loaded themselves into the various vehicles as quickly as possible. RED Medic pulled back toward the truck he, Pauling, the other Medic, the Demos, and the Pyros had arrived in, opening the door without turning his syringe gun from the crowd of people. With one hand he opened the door for Pauling.
"Thank you," she said. "BLU Medic, take the hostage. I'll drive."
RED Medic slid into the back seat, waiting for BLU Medic and the colonel to follow.
BLU Medic looked at the colonel. "You first," he said. "I insist." He waited for the man to get in, then climbed in himself and slammed the door. Miss Pauling took the parking brake off and started the car up again. Something on the outside went thunk and was ignored.
RED was putting down his gun. The Demomen both had swords, hardly useful in these confined quarters. And the colonel literally had something up his sleeve.
In an instant the knife was to BLU Medic's throat, and the colonel was looking to Pauling through the rear-view mirror.
"We're not leaving," he said, quiet and sharp.
"Erk," said BLU Medic. He looked sidelong at RED Medic.
Miss Pauling sighed, exasperated. "Last time I let the mooks guard the hostage," she muttered under her breath. "You know, we have another one. And that one's not even the original."
"Mooks?" hissed RED Medic irritably, but he was watching BLU and the colonel closely.
"Your point? He's one of yours anyways." The colonel neither let up nor pressed the knife closer, but his gaze hardened. "You've got to the count of three to let me out."
BLU Medic tried to mouth femoral artery at RED Medic and hoped like hell his colleague would get the idea. The medipack was on, but it wouldn't do too much about the knife at his throat. The car moved.
RED didn't have his saw out and ready. What he did have, however, was a scalpel.
"One."
He shifted just slightly as soon as he was sure the man's attention was focused on Miss Pauling.
"Two-" and that was followed by a string of expletives as a blade sank into his leg. RED had reached up at the same moment to grab the man's arm and keep him from slicing open his friend's throat. Blood soaked the seat, and the colonel's struggles became feebler.
"Thank you," said BLU Medic, a little faintly. "Colleague, his hands. So he doesn't try zhat again." And shifting around uncomfortably, he pulled out his medigun and turned it on.
"Keep him alive," said Miss Pauling.
"I know," said BLU Medic. "Only, ve cannot do zhe same for zhe upholstery."
"It's seen worse."
RED pulled the colonel's hands down and bound them together with a strip of bandages. The colonel was preoccupied with the way his leg and pants magically came back together.
"What the hell is that thing?" he asked when he'd found his tongue again, looking down in amazement at the Medigun.
"Classified. Can't tell you more." Miss Pauling sounded incredibly smug.
The colonel gave her a somewhat reproachful look and tugged gloomily at the bandages around his wrists. "Like that thing's something with OUR government anyways."
"It might be, now shut up," RED said irritably.
"Just behave," said Miss Pauling. She had the tact not to say don't you wish we were on the same side now? but the Pyro went "Mmph mppm hmmmm mmmph mmerf mmmph mmph mu?" which meant the same thing.
"Vhy me," muttered BLU Medic. "Alvays, zhey take me hostage."
The hostage shifted his weight before eyeing BLU. "You were available," he said simply. "It's nothing personal."
RED smirked slightly and looked out the window.
BLU rested his head against the back of the cab and groaned. "Zhat's vhat zhey all say."
"We're here," said Miss Pauling.
"Does that mean you're letting me go now?"
"Shut up," RED Medic replied again as he peered through the window.
"Yes," said Miss Pauling. "Just leave him there, Medic, his friends will get him. Now, if the Spies did what they were supposed to..." She grabbed the duffel bag, booted the door open (it had acquired a dent at some recent point) and climbed out, removing the flamethrower.
Which was when the lock mechanism of the door spat blue sparks.
RED jerked back in surprise. "Somehow I do not zhink zhat is vhat is supposed to happen."
The colonel gritted his teeth impatiently. "You can still open your door, can't you?"
"I zhink so." RED tried the handle.
"Oh hell," said Miss Pauling, looking at the truck. There was something that looked like a sapper on it. But bigger. Clunkier. Somehow eviler.
The Pyro tumbled out of the open door and ran. "MMMPH MMMMM!"
BLU Medic kicked at the door, the suddenly non-functional door. There were whisps of smoke rising from the engine, the upholstery of the front seats.
"Ah, Fraulein," RED asked, voice kept carefully calm, "vould you mind if I made an escape route for myself, zhe BLU, und zhe hostage zhrough von of zhe vindows?" He hefted his saw.
"Do." There was an unaccustomed note of urgency in Miss Pauling's voice. The Pyro was still running. The Demomen were nowhere to be seen. "I don't think we want to be around when it goes."
"When it goes what?" the colonel asked, but RED shot him a half-exasperated half-panicked glare that got him to be quiet. In an instant he was using the Ubersaw to break the window's glass. There was still plenty along the bottom of the window, but if anyone got cut it wouldn't be serious. They had Mediguns.
With a bit of struggling, he managed to make it through, and with even more struggling and a few complaints the colonel was pulled through after. Then he looked to BLU, waiting.
The effort of will it took BLU Medic to stay still while the colonel and RED Medic climbed out was enormous. One corner of the seat put out a little tendril of flame; with a little horrified gasp he dove for the window and squirmed out to land face first on the dusty road. He lay there a moment, getting himself under control, and then smelled smoke, far more strongly than was warranted by the truck behind him.
His lab coat was on fire.
"Verdammt." RED strode quickly over and stamped on the flames on the tail of BLU's coat. "Take it off if zhe flames are getting too close to your body!"
The hostage hesitated as he took in the situation. But there wasn't really any cover around or something sharp to get his hands free. And really, well, Pauling was right about one thing; when the thing on the truck 'went off', they would want to be as far from it as possible.
BLU shed the medipack, shed the coat, stumbled back from it, shaking.
RED rolled his eyes and pulled BLU to his feet immediately. "Grab zhe Medipack so vhe can get out of here. Zhe Fraulein seems to zhink zhe truck is going to explode."
The colonel walked toward Pauling, looking uncertain about what was going on.
BLU managed to grab the medipack. "Right," he said, still trembling. "Danke."
"Yes?" said Miss Pauling. She had the Phlogistinator tucked under one arm, and the syringe gun and sword slung over her back.
"How far do you think the blast radius will reach, and how long do you estimate we have to move?" he asked in a low voice.
"Not the slightest idea." She glanced after the Pyro. "Other than it'll be pretty big."
"Then shouldn't we get moving?" he asked in obvious alarm. RED Medic had grabbed his own things and was trotting toward them.
"Yup," said Miss Pauling. Her eyes were on the mobile sentry. She knew she'd seen a wrangler somewhere in that mix...
The van had pulled to a stop a good ways away from them. The enormous sentry-tank, however, rolled toward the truck, the gun portion aiming for it.
"Y'all might want to move back a ways," came one of the Engineers over a loudspeaker.
"Right," said Miss Pauling. BLU Medic had already scrambled back. She followed suit. "Will this do?"
"Yeah, that should work just... hang on." There was the sound of a brief discussion, muffled perhaps by a hand placed over the microphone.
"On second thought, y'all come toward us, right up next to the gun."
"Vhy vould ve- oh. OH." RED Medic's bewilderment turned to understanding, and he ran back toward the sentry.
"Are they crazy?!" the Colonel hissed.
"Don't argue, just follow!"
BLU Medic staggered after RED Medic. There were arcs of electricity sparking over the truck now. He came to a stop practically at the bumper of the sentry and propped himself up, jamming his hands in his pockets so no one would see how hard they were shaking.
Colonel frowned at Pauling irritably, but he followed them. Part of this was because both of the Medics were by the gun, and if he were about to get horribly mangled by shrapnel he'd rather it be near those magical healing guns.
RED Medic's brow arced at BLU. "Are you going to be all right, mein Freund?"
"Fine," said BLU Medic. "I vish you vouldn't say anyzhing more, in fact."
"Remind me," said Miss Pauling, tucking herself up against the sentry with the Medics, "to increase the allowance of anti-anxiety medications in our supply shipments."
"Vhy not a good therapist?" grumbled BLU Medic.
"Because he-" with a nod at RED Medic, "tried to inoculate the last one with an experimental vaccine for Superfluous Uterus."
"Vell he didn't get Superfluous Uterus, did he?" RED replied in obvious annoyance.
"No, he got Superfluous Utereses. On his skin. Do you have any idea of what our insurance did after that?"
"Zhe vaccine vould haff worked if he had let me try it again! It simply needed an adjustment. Und besides, it vas easier to remove zhe utereses from zhe outside zhan it vould haff been if zhey vere internal."
"I think I'm going to need a therapist when all this is over," grumbled the Colonel.
"Everyone hang tight and don't leave the field. This is gonna get a little noisy."