SHORT STORY
Pauling's Punishment (Part One)
March, 1969
It didn't take long for Fernando to venture into California's Central Valley. As one of the largest valleys in the world, particularly rich in agriculture, it has become his primary destination for bittersweet revenge. He drove across Route 99 and was now on his way to the city of Bakersfield. His nineteen-year-old son sat in the passenger's seat, his mouth retaining nothing but absolute silence. Several of Fernando's lifelong friends drove behind him. They followed him all the way from Guatemala, his home country, to the United States of America so he could expand his personal grudge a little longer. Even if Fernando concentrated on the road in front of him, he could see the clear blue sky providing itself with a darker hue than before. The sun was about to reposition itself further into the west. But the approaching evening didn't matter to Fernando. He just wanted to visit Bakersfield and get things done. He, his son, and his companions had only one thing in mind: search for Miss Pauling and make her feel the same anguish that his late wife had felt in the past.
The industrial realm of Pipeline was located just a few miles west of Bakersfield, right in the middle of nowhere. Warehouses, refineries, and the weekly Tule fog that surrounded Mann Co.'s architecture appeared to be a perfect camouflage against the naked eye. Both the RED and BLU Teams had taken a break from the daily Payload Races that occurred in Pipeline. Members of the RED team felt a bit ecstatic than usual. Just as he exited the barracks, Weatherman walked past Outlaw and Medic, both of whom carried stapled pieces of paper in their hands. Weatherman quickly turned around and asked them about it.
Medic smiled and said, "We're going to the terminal because we're auditioning for Demoman's first commercial. He finished the script for the High Five TL 2000 Phonograph last week."
Weatherman felt a bit more curious. "He's actually gonna go through with this? Does he have the necessary equipment that's needed for filmmaking?"
"Jason and Yvonne will assist him. They have the camera, and they have the lights. This could be something special for all of us. And who knows? Perhaps this commercial shall be quite a success for American television."
"I'm still skeptical about that. Remember last year, when Jason and Yvonne tried to find an actor for that Silver Dollar Cola commercial? It was a complete disaster. They couldn't even finish it."
Outlaw laughed. "But we truly believe that it is different this time."
"How so?"
"We're going to try to be a more civilized group of people. This is DeGroot's opportunity at tremendous Hollywood fame, and we should respect his new environment."
Weatherman gave a half smile. "He planted his Sticky Bombs all around the terminal, hasn't he?"
Outlaw grunted. "We can only hope that he doesn't have an itchy trigger finger at this time."
"Well, good luck."
Weatherman watched as Outlaw and Medic headed for the terminal before heading for the Pipeline cafeteria. Once inside the dining room, he could see Spy and Bodyguard conversing with each other while eating what looked like slices of sweet potato pie. Weatherman ordered a cup of cinnamon apple tea from the front counter. Then, he took a seat next to the window. Outside, he could see a few RED mercenaries walking toward the terminal with copies of Demoman's original script in their hands. He gave a little chuckle. He couldn't believe they would be so determined to star in a low-budget commercial for the High Five TL 2000 Phonograph. But then again, he himself would feel enthusiastic if he had the chance to gain the Hollywood mindset in such a short time.
Weatherman stayed in the cafeteria for a few more minutes. He looked out the window again. He was about to take another sip of his tea, until he spotted Miss Pauling walking away from the terminal and heading for the Heart of the Factory. He couldn't keep his eyes off her even as she disappeared from view.
"It looks like Miss Pauling as a secret admirer."
Weatherman looked away from the window and found Spy and Bodyguard standing right in front of the booth in which he sat in. Both of them had devious grins on their faces.
"I don't think it's any of your business."
Spy replied, "You are correct, my dear native friend. But that doesn't stop us from giving you some helpful tips on getting what you want."
"And what kind of tips should I take?"
Spy took a seat in the booth beside Weatherman and said, "Here's the first. It wouldn't be wise to choose a woman like Miss Pauling. This company does not allow employees to grow a deeper attachment towards each other."
"But what about Scout and Assassin? Nobody's having a problem with them."
"That is because they are both mercenaries. Having the Administrator's assistant as your new girlfriend might cause a few problems. You do not want to find yourself waking up in the middle of New York City with nothing but your Sledgehammer and a bottle of aspirin."
"I'm not interested in having a girlfriend...yet. I just want to get to know her a little more."
Spy straightened his tie. "Then, all you have to do is be subtle. Don't act like a deluded egomaniac, especially in the first few minutes of conversation."
Bodyguard laughed as he took a seat in the same booth. "That is not how I found my new girlfriend. All I did was say that I worked for the emperor of Saudi Arabia, and we became new friends."
Weatherman felt amused. "Well, that's because you worked for royalty. I've got nothing."
"If you're desperate, you will have to be a little dishonest."
Spy shook his head. "That is a completely different philosophy, Nazir. It does not work here in Mann Co., unfortunately."
"It worked for me once."
"That is because you could get away with it."
Weatherman finished his cup of tea. "I'm gonna have to think about it. Have fun discussing relationships."
Spy and Bodyguard laughed as soon as Weatherman left the cafeteria.
Bodyguard asked, "Do you think he is out of his mind?"
"I do believe he is as desperate as the Scout. Let's not forget when he took his shirt off to impress Miss Pauling."
"Ah, yes. You told me about it some time ago. What happened after that?"
"Let's just say that involves a sandwich and the Southern Hospitality."
"You can stop right there."
Spy looked out the window, and suddenly found something very strange. It was only for a split second, but he thought he saw a man hiding in the darkness.
Bodyguard asked, "What is wrong?"
"I thought I just saw a BLU Spy."
"But the battles are over. Why would he try to intrude at a time like this?"
"That is a good question."
Miss Pauling stood on a balcony that overlooked the Heart of the Factory. The two Payload tracks were empty and devoid of action. The crescent moon hovered over the industrial terrain. The night seemed almost tranquil with its soft breeze and chirping crickets. This would be the perfect time to do some nightly surveillance, one of her most cherished tasks. But sudden footsteps from behind forced her to turn around. She saw the Weatherman walking right past the balcony.
He set his eyes on her once he stopped taking further steps abruptly. "I'm sorry. Did I scare you?"
Miss Pauling replied, "No, I thought the Demoman started on his daily charge for his precious little scrumpy."
Weatherman chuckled. "That's a pretty good one, Miss Pauling."
"Thanks."
He cleared his throat. "Am I bothering you right now? Because if I am, then I'm sorry."
"No, not at all. I'm just standing around for now. I should do my nightly surveillance, but I'm preparing myself for it a little more."
"Well, I respect your privacy. In the meantime, I should go."
"Where are you going?"
"I'm almost finished with constructing my newest weapon for my arsenal."
"I rarely see you use a weapon from Mann Co., which is interesting. Why is it that you like to use your own weapons?"
"To be quite honest, I prefer to build things that I'm going to use for a lifetime. That's why I've built my own car, my own bed, and even my own garage."
"You must be really good with your tools."
"I'm always extra careful whenever I try to build something for myself."
"Here's another question: why is it that your arsenal features nothing but bad weather?"
"Well, it's kind of complicated."
Miss Pauling leaned against the railing. "I'm willing to hear about it, even if it is complex."
Weatherman gave a grin. "I guess I got a minute."
For the next several minutes, Weatherman and Miss Pauling had the chance to know each other a little more. The Native-American man told her about his family, and how they constantly struggled through economic turmoil. He also described his bitter relationship with his late brother, and how he now felt like seeing him again for one last time. Meanwhile, the twenty-six-year-old assistant told of how she was born and raised in the city of Philadelphia. She mentioned her ex-husband, Steve Haskins (or, as some might know him as, Rolf Marcussen), at least twice. She didn't want to give his real name for good reason.
The two of them talked for such a long time, and yet they didn't even know about the Guatemalan intruder who stood right below the balcony. He leaned against the wall and listened to almost everything that Weatherman and Miss Pauling had discussed. When Miss Pauling said the counterfeit name of her ex-husband, Fernando narrowed his eyes. He knew much about Rolf Marcussen. He was the reason why he wanted to search for Pipeline in the Central Valley. Fernando wanted to fulfill his revenge against the man who had taken his wife away.
But Fernando couldn't do his task right away. He could see how powerful these mercenaries could be. So he decided to wait until after midnight. Then, there would be a much better chance at kidnapping Miss Pauling without the Administrator or her mercenaries to even observe the incident.
TO BE CONTINUED...
