100 Missions.

Great news, everyone! A very lovely person called Aurero has decided to translate the whole of 100 Missions into Russian! As Heavy would say "Da, very good!" and please, if there are any Russian speakers amongst you, give them your full support.

Anyway, on with chapter fifty one (holy crap, we were at the bottom and now we're here).

In light of the recent TF2 comic, and the fifty million bomb shells that dropped on us, I have to update. This is definitely the best story spark I've had in ages!


51st Objective: It's a Cold Day In Hell.

No.

No way.

His men never betrayed him. Never.

And yet, there he was, on the other side of the battlefield.

"How could he do this?!"

Heavy – no, Misha – started forwards, intent on grabbing the Medic and shaking him senseless, judging by the anguish on his thick face. Soldier flung out a hand.

"Just…wait."

It was very unlike Solly to use a quiet voice, but there it was and Heavy restrained himself, eyes narrowing down at the American.

"Go ahead. You will not get anywhere."

Defeat already lay on his tongue and the other turned away, unable to bear it. Defeat was full of dishonour, full of nothing.

"Be ready."

All the REDs and BLUs stood their ground, still as statues. The only good thing about this was that both Spies had proven their loyalty by not betraying them automatically – being a traitor was instinct for them after all.

"Good for nothing Nazi." He hissed under his breath and then raised his eyes. "You having fun over with those old-timers?"

"My pa is over there."

"Fine! Old-timers and Engineer's dad! Happy?" Soldier cried out, exasperated. Nobody said anything on either side and he took that as his cue to carry on. "I guess we couldn't give you enough, could we? Our organs, our bodies…became the same after a while, huh?"

A ripple of surprise shifted through the gathered men.

"I thought he was going to ask if it was the money that swayed him," murmured the Classic Sniper. "Guess not."

The ex-RED Medic paused, obviously taken off guard. Then he drew himself up proudly and smiled, a professional gleam in his perfect teeth. Maybe that should have been Soldier's warning.

"The things zey let me do is more than vhat you were willing, am I right?"

"They fed on your insanity." Soldier snapped back. "I should know, I'm not exactly right in the head myself."

Another jolt of strangeness burst through both crowds. Soldier was drawing out something they hadn't witnessed before and they weren't sure what to make of it. When did he learn how to spar with words as well as guns?

"Ah, but you are just extremely backwards and almost like a talking gorilla," Medic shrugged, his blue eyes locked on approximately where Soldier's were under that helmet. "My "insanity" is just scientific and medical brilliance."

"Being nuts don't work like that, Doc," Soldier replied quietly, his gaze seemingly focused the white-coated German. "It's not like you can control the fallout. That's why it's so cruel. It lets you think you have enough power to change the world, to change humanity, while keeping yourself intact and then rips the blindfold off long enough for you to see what you've done."

A story lay under those hushed words, but Soldier clearly wasn't going to share it. Medic stared back, unblinking. Something made Medic twitch.

"They won't give you what you want. They're not insane like you, so they don't…won't understand. Don't blame them either." A mirthless smile crossed those craggy features.

One of the Classics seemed to be getting impatient, because he stepped forward roughly.

"Are we going to do what we were paid to do or what?!" The eye-patch on his face slipped a bit and he pulled it back.

"Dunno," Soldier waved a hand carelessly in their direction. "Depends if we can get our traitor to un-betray us."

The tone was so blasé that the leader couldn't help but ask;

"What if you can't?"

A dead, yet manic look took over the Soldier's expression. It was a twisted feature that only he had ever been able to pull off.

"Then we'll slaughter the lot of you, so to speak. For the good of the USA!"

"Fer the good o' our pay checks, more like!" grumbled Demoman.

Their ex-Medic clearly had enough, because he whipped out his bone saw and crossed the length of the battlefield, catching Soldier clean across the face with the serrated edge. Soldier stumbled backwards and didn't say anything, his head snapped to the side. Then he looked up, with ice-blue eyes full of pain. Everyone froze, ready to jump into action at a moment's notice.

"So we're not your family anymore then. Figures. I could never keep the people I cared about anyway."

Medic struggled to keep his composure as Soldier tore the shovel from his back.

"I don't really care how much you've hurt me, I'm used to that. But you WILL rue the day you ripped this team apart and sided with that piece of Gray shit!"

And with a snarl, he lunged forward, digging the sharpened blade into the Medic's side. The ex-RED dropped his weapon in shock and howled. Bullets and rockets and god knows what else went flying in seconds, tearing up the soil in clumps and splashing blood on clothes and dirt.

RED Soldier only had eyes for the traitor. He felt the BLU Soldier come up to his side, tilting his head questioningly.

"Together, private?"

The other considered his counterpart for a moment, remembering how kind and useful the BLU had been to their war effort over the last few months. He hadn't seen loyalty like that in a long time. Plus he was American, so why the hell not?

"Together."

The two pulled out their rocket launchers and locked on to the Medic, who gazed up sheepishly.

"Truce?"

"No."

The rocket launchers went off, but the shells were rebounded by the Classic Pyro, who leapt into the fray and pulled the dazed doctor to his feet with obvious contempt. The two Soldiers gave chase, but eventually lost the two enemies in a cloud of smoke.

"Crap." Hissed RED Soldier and the BLU stopped him short.

"You need that looked at."

"It's a scratch, soldier! Don't tell me you faint at the sight of blood, sissy!" Solly snapped, reaching up to pat his bleeding cheek.

The other glared.

"Scratches can get infected. And I'll have you know I'm NOT a sissy!" he replied shortly. "Now are you going to let me stitch that up quickly or not?"

The RED Soldier drew up but deflated at the stubborn set to the other's chin.

"Didn't even know you knew how to stitch." He muttered as the BLU Soldier swiped some thread and a needle out of his pocket.

"Standard knowledge for a soldier. Medics aren't always available. 'Sides, our Medic taught us."

"…We'll win this. We HAVE to."

"I know."

The battle raged on, as did the war.

Mission Complete.


Not too long, but hopefully you liked it!

Love Lily. X