*Gibraltar: Watchpoint (4 months later)*
Heavy rains are becoming a norm at Watchpoint as December crept nearer. It is also during these times where most agents and staff disappears, leaving Watchpoint nearly defenseless as they go home to their families for the holidays, each injected with a tiny square battery where Athena will continue to monitor them and, if needed, stun them with a powerful shock if they say anything that is deemed sensitive.
The only ones left are Morrison, Genji, Angela, Winston, Mei, Lena and a few guards who were once criminals or orphans with nowhere else to go.
It was when Quillion saw McCree's name on the On Leave list when he felt relief for the first time in months. It had been a living nightmare under the "guidance" of McCree, as mission after mission he was thrown into some of the worst fighting with the worst tactics he has ever seen, some outright suicidal.
McCree seem to be accepting urgent missions at the worst of times as well. He barely had time to do clean himself up before he was called to active duty and each time he will return looking more and more disheveled, even earning the nickname 'Caveman'.
If it is not a mission, he would be dragged into the practice range or combat simulations so randomly that he swore that it has to be some sort of sick joke.
Despite the harsh treatment, he ungratefully admits that he has vastly improved, as each time he was thrown into battle with faulty or little intel, he was forced to be more creative with his tactics. The inhumane amount of training has improved his endurance and stamina to amazing levels, though McCree said it is nowhere near the levels of Morrison, but it allowed him one crucial ability.
He has activated his Battle Rage so frequently and, combined with improved endurance and stamina, he learned how to control any amount of adrenaline he needs at will, which he never thought was possible. Now he could push himself to his limits without suffering from vertigo effects.
As an added bonus, he was granted his own Private Quarter in Watchpoint despite not being an agent, but he knew the truth, his appearance and stench has been a rising complaint from the Barracks and Morrison decided to grant him the smallest Quarter available.
The moment McCree left yesterday, he immediately jumped into the bath and soaked himself in it for what seemed like hours, complete with a full shave, his old haircut, and even a full hot meal without anyone dragging him away at the most random of times.
Though he enjoyed his 'alone time', he could not help but feel a sting of jealousy for those who have families to return to as he watches from a platform above the hangar, counting the shuttles disguised as a civilian craft as they transport them to their designated locations.
"You're not taking leave?" he heard a gruff voice said.
He whipped around and saluted.
"No sir"
"At ease soldier" Morrison said as he leaned on the railing.
Quillion relaxed and leaned on the railing as well, watching the last shuttle leave the platform.
"I heard from McCree that the past few months you have served with distinction"
"I hope so sir"
Morrison chuckled at the answer, confusing the Private. He actually found something funny?
"Well, if you have nothing to do for the holidays. I have a mission for you"
"Ready and waiting sir"
"As you know many of our agents are leaving for the holidays and some of them are hunted by our enemies, though we took special care to keep them hidden during their leave, cracks are bound to appear"
Quillion nodded as he guessed what Morrison was asking him to do.
"So you want me to hunt them down first before they get to our agents?"
"No. I want you to be a bodyguard"
Hmm? Bodyguard?
"Who would I be guarding?"
"Lieutenant Oxton has specifically asked for you"
"Lena?"
Morrison looked at him for a moment before replying.
"Yes, Lena, is that a problem?"
"No sir" was the almost happy reply.
"May I give a word of advice?"
"Yes sir"
"In this line of business, do not get attached to anyone. The briefing is tomorrow at 0800"
His words hung heavily in his mind as Morrison walks away.
Over the past months Quillion had joined missions with multiple agents before Overwatch recognizes that his skillset fits perfectly with Lena.
They found that he could participate in a Shock and Awe attack that has been the centerpiece for many of Morrison's strategies as they became the typecast Assault Unit. The attack is labeled 'Zero Trace', which concerned him for a while because his name came before Lena's field name, but she assured him that it did not bother her in the slightest.
This attack requires tremendous amount of speed, accuracy, and trust for one another to be effective as they will basically be thrown headlong into the enemy in a pincer attack, penetrating their lines and destroying the leader as quickly as possible before the alarm can be raised.
The moment they are deployed, either against an invading or defensive army, he will immediately activate his Battle Rage and charge relentlessly into the enemy lines while Tracer will take the high ground, throwing Pulse Bombs to clear more clustered groups and causing untold chaos on her end.
The results of such unrelenting force was so fast and effective that they learned from intercepted messages, the Null Sector could not conclude if it was literally two attackers or a whole battalion. Regardless, they could not identify who or what has attacked them.
However, the attack is not perfect as they have been reminded that they are still fragile human beings. A lucky grenade or shot can still render either one immobile as they are lightly armored for maximum speed.
When this happens, they would need to hold off until reinforcement arrives as they are cut off, forcing them to see some of the fiercest battles they've ever been in, wholly relying on each other to survive.
With addition of teaching her how to play and sing the same song over and over again privately in her Quarters, he could not help himself but to grow more attracted to her with each passing day. They have seen each other at their strongest, celebrated each victory, laugh whenever they have the chance, and reviewed their missions together endlessly to improve.
Though they kept it professional, they have became very good friends and team mates.
Now he is going to be her bodyguard? That means he will have to be close! A whole holiday with her, would they bond outside the flames of battle? His mind began to race on the possibilities on what they could do. Would they have dinner together? Would they join a tour together? Would they...
Then a thought hit him. For this bodyguard duty he would require new gear, carrying his XM around is not exactly subtle.
"Good afternoon, how may I be of assistance?" the clerk called.
Quillion stared for a moment before resuming his stride, he was so used to the phrase 'Come get your armor' that he thought he entered the wrong room.
"I need something for a protection mission"
"Ahh..." the clerk said, looking at his clipboard "You are Private Zero correct?"
He nodded, wondering why he would be on the list.
"Master Engineer Torbjorn asked me to pass you this"
Passing a poorly wrapped box over the counter, Quillion noticed it had a bit of weight.
"He also said to open it in the range"
Nodding with thanks, he entered the range when he read the card on the gift.
Laddie,
This is an early Christmas gift so don't expect anything else from me.
Just because I'm not there, don't think you can break my stuff!
Merry Christmas
He opened the box and gave a whoop of joy.
"Thank you Torbjorn" he called out to no one.
The gift consists of two compartments, both contain accessories that would be perfect for his upcoming mission.
The left compartment has the following attachments: a suppressor, a laser sight, 4 magazines and a few rows of bullets.
But the right compartment reveals the main attraction.
It was his .55 Cal Revolver that he passed to Torbjorn for repairs after it had been snapped in half a few missions back, when he was forced to use it as a bar to seal a door long enough for him to set up a firing position in a hotel against some assassins while McCree has passed out from drinking.
Now it has been completely reconstructed into a beautifully crafted Semi-Auto. Its design is simple but yet attractive, a beautiful blend of black and grey, complete with everything a pistol needs. He laughed when he saw it even included a 'Get Wrecked' firing selection for him. Even the bullets have been improved, somehow lighter and pointier than usual.
Eager to test his new pistol, he familiarized himself with his new weapon before loading and pointing it down range, pleased to find it has been customized to fit his hand perfectly as he fired. Each shot reminded him of Torbjorn's skill in this craft as each shot would normally throw his aim into the air but now the recoil has been wonderfully reduced while it kept its stopping power.
Excited, he flipped the 'Get Wrecked' and set the targets to its highest speed setting as he activates his Battle Rage.
"Is the gift to your liking?" the clerk asked when Quillion exited.
"Oh yeah, best gift ever" he said as he walked out, a grin on his face.
"Alright, please wait as I inspect the range, Torbjorn asked me to check if you need to pay for any unnecessary damages"
The moment the clerk walked into the range, Quillion ran off as fast as he could.
*Venice*
The bridges are filled with lights dangling above it, different patterns littered across each bridges, illuminating the canals as the water reflects the lights. Tourists came in droves, rushing to the best angles the moment it is vacant for their pictures so they can upload it to whatever is the new social media trend.
Nowhere in Venice is as popular than St. Mark Square as endless crowds pour in, trying to fit the massive structure into their pictures. Restaurants and cafes are brimmed with customers as everyone needed a break from the crowd.
Despite the happy atmosphere, there is one woman who does not seem to share it, in fact she barely feels anything as she sat in a restaurant with a direct view at the cathedral with a blank look on her face, sipping her coffee as she patiently observes the crowd.
She has been prevented for a kill for so long that she uncharacteristically took on a job outside of Talon, almost desperate to feel the thrill of taking a life again. Her target is a frequent womanizer, a middle class family man who prefers to spend his nights with escorts rather than with his family, a hypocrite who is well liked in his religious circles. And the client is his wife.
Though she does not like the crowds, this is better than waiting on the rooftop, even if that means sitting in a public area. Placing herself in a position where she has the chance to miss her target will result to a more euphoriac kill, and she plans to make the most of it.
As she waited she has realized that for some strange reason, there is a very strange hint of de ja vu as she sat there which gives a sense of calm, a strange sense of familiarity. Everything felt familiar except for the live band.
She must've pondered it for quite some time as a waiter asked her to leave, but not before charging her a 1,000 Euro bill.
"A cup of coffee is 1,000 Euro?" she asked, amused that someone dares to try to scam her. Her of all people.
He did not even answer as he presented the menu under his arm, already knowing that every customer will argue about the bill, pointing to the bottom of the page which bears "Extra Charges" in the smallest print, the brunt of the cost "paying" for the live band.
"I do not think I will, I barely noticed they were even there" she said.
"You must pay for it, you entered and ate at our establishment" he said in a tired and bored tone.
"Bring me another coffee and I'll think about it"
Rolling his eyes, he snatched the menu back.
"You have 10 more minutes before you must leave"
When he return with their smallest cup, she is gone.
"Hey!" he shouted to no one as he looked around frantically for her, not knowing that she jumped over the grill and had long disappeared into the crowd the moment he turned around.
He should consider himself lucky, if she has not spotted her target, she would've killed him for fun instead.
Purposely positioning herself where he could see her, it was not long before her target took notice. Tearing himself away from what must be one of his many mistresses, he came over like a fly.
"My dear... I think you dropped this" he said, dangling a diamond necklace in front of her eyes that he 'picked' up from the floor.
He is tall, well-built, well-groomed, and dressed in expensive clothing. To many women he is the very definition of a lady killer.
Widowmaker had to stop herself from licking her lips, she cannot wait to end this man's life. His successes, his charm, his looks, all will render to nothing by her doing.
Accepting the necklace, she smiled and walked away to an alleyway that people rarely take. She kept her smile as she watch him follow her, coming closer to her web. When they are in a darker corner of the alley, she slowed her walk, allowing him to catch up.
"Hey now, that's far enough dear, my girlfriend will begin to wonder where I am" he said as he grabbed her arm.
She did not say anything as she turned around, slapping his hand away in a playful manner and looked at her meal.
"Silent type eh? Well that does not matter" he said as he run a hand through his hair, tidying up his already tidy hair.
"Do you regret anything?" she asked flatly, catching him off guard before he recollected himself.
"Well I regret not meeting you sooner my dear... Speaking of which... Mistletoe" he said as he pointed to it above her head.
"Don't you have a girlfriend?"
"Nah, for you baby, I'd dump her in a second"
He walked closer with hunger in his eyes and his heart thumped as he saw a similar hunger in hers as well.
"Stick with me from now on my sweet, I can take care of you"
He closed his eyes as he leaned forward to kiss her.
Heaving back her arm, she shot it forwards and her fist crashed into his face, his body immediately crumple to the ground from the attack and before he knew it, she stomped her feet onto his chest as she pulled out a pistol from her jacket.
Before he could even whimper for mercy, she hushed him with a finger to her lips. Her heart beats as a victim is completely under her mercy.
"You know what I hate the most cherie? An unloyal man. Your wife sends her regards"
Kicking upwards she felt a loud crack, the feeling of the broken neck sent shivers down her spine.
Oh how she missed this feeling, especially when she feels his heartbeat slow down to nothing.
She dragged his body and leaned it slumped against the wall as she takes his wallet, painting the scene as a violent mugging as per requested by the client.
As she walks back to the main street, an annoyance accompanied her since the kill, which is odd as all her prior kills makes her feel good, never once they gave a negative emotion, let alone annoyance.
"Why did I say unloyal man?" she asked herself as she reflects on her words.
Deep in thought she walked into a troop of carolers marching by.
"Oh sorry! Are you okay?" one of them ask.
She did not say anything as she continued walking.
"Merry Christmas to you and your family!" a child caroler shouted after her before resuming her march with the rest.
Family. A strange concept.
It took half an hour before she reached her destination and knock on a door. She heard a shifting of a chair and footsteps, then the door inched open, revealing a pale face woman peeking out of the small gap.
"Is it done? Is my husband..." she whispered when she saw the blue skinned woman.
Without saying anything, she handed over the wallet, causing the woman to cry when she recognize who it belonged to.
"Why would she be sad if she ordered the kill? Humans are so stupid" Widowmaker thought to herself.
But a strange thought invaded her mind at the sobbing woman. This is the first time she did not return to that graveyard...
She shook the thought out of her mind. Why would she connect that to this?
"H-how much do I pay you?"
In one smooth motion, Widowmaker stuck 2 fingers into the wallet and pulled out a 5 Euro note and waved it in front of the woman before walking away, ignoring her protest at such a meager sum.
Suddenly her heart throbbed, a deep pain began beating inside her as she is plagued with the face of the caroler, the sobbing woman, the dead face of the man, each repeating words that bombarded her with long forgotten emotions.
Family, Husband, Unloyal Man.
She began to panic, this has never happened to her before, she needs to go back to Headquarters immediately, she need to purge these feelings now.
Picking up her pace, she turned into a corner... And stopped dead in her tracks, she felt her already cold skin turn even colder at what she is seeing.
An unnatural cold, snowy wind blew around her where she stood. Before her is a gravestone covered in snow, which bore the words that haunted her every year. The words that compelled her to go back.
Gerard Lecrox.
The thrill of her very recent kill vanished in an instant, replaced with a strange feeling of longing. A strange longing to reach out into the grave of this Lecrox, a longing for something important that has been buried by her own hands that she could not recover.
Looking down she saw that she held a rose. As if possessed, she placed the rose in an almost loving way in front of the tombstone, even though she does not understand why.
Why couldn't she just dig up and find this important object that she buried and end this torment? Why does she kept paying respects to someone or something she does not remember? And who is this Gerard Lecrox that fixated her so? Was he her favorite victim? Was he her toughest assignment? What has this person done that scarred her so deeply?
A wave of sadness came as she pondered, she felt as if her eyes are trying to cry, an idea she scoffed at. She had shed all the tears she could shed, there are no more tears that will ever come out of her. She stood still, her eyes closed as she replace sadness with anger.
This man, this Lecrox must have done something terrible to her. So horrible that she has forgotten what it is. Yes a trauma that-
But then why would she place flowers?
"Signora, state bene? (Ms, are you okay?)" a voice behind her say.
Upon hearing those words, the cold winds stopped. She opened her eyes and saw that the tombstone vanished and in place of the rose is the 5 Euro.
Turning around she saw a policeman who spotted her standing alone in an alley, her back turned away from all the festivities.
She smiled at him, causing him to blush as she picks up the money and continued walking.
"What was that..." she thought.
*One hour later*
Perched on top of Saint Mark's Bascilica's inaccessible balcony, she tries to enjoy her gelato as she observes the crowd below her, trying to calm down by counting how many people she could have killed since she sat down.
After she licked her spoon, she flicks it to her right and it flew straight into Sombra's nose.
"You gotta tell me how you can always see me" she complained as she turns off her Stealth Device.
"You are sloppy" Widowmaker said as she pulls out another spoon to enjoy the rest of her dessert.
Sombra leaned against the wall and drops her Teleportation Device as a precaution as they both listen to the joyous music that fills the air.
"Why are you following me?"
"The question is, when did I start following?"
"Since I pass the wallet to the woman"
Sombra snorted in annoyance, lucky guess...
"Well I found out that you-"
"Hacked" Widowmaker corrected.
"Fine, I 'hacked' that you are doing small time assassinations, what's up with that?"
"I needed a distraction"
"The great Widowmaker is bored? I never thought I'd see the day, then I have good news, I have a mission for you"
"I do not take orders from you"
"You sure? You'd like this one"
Pressing a few air keys a picture flashed before them. It is a picture of a very handsome man in a suit, despite the stupid mustache, and his nametag bore the name...
Widowmaker tackled Sombra before she could react, fury driving her actions as she wraps her hands around her throat.
"Who is he? How did you know that name? How did you find him?"
Sombra tried to pry her fingers off but they were like steel, digging deeper into her throat, this is the first time she saw such anger from the assassin.
"Tell me now or I'll break you neck" Widowmaker seethed, her fingers tightening, almost uncaring if she gives an answer or not.
In a purple flash she disappeared and reappeared next to her and threw a kick that landed into Widowmaker's stomach, stunning her for a moment. Before she could attack, Sombra pointed her MP7 at her face.
"Now that I have your attention... I need you to do something for me..." she gasped, massaging her throat.
"Who is that man? Who is he?" Widowmaker snarled.
"You do me a few favors and I'll give you everything I have on him, everything you need on him I have it right here" Sombra said as she brandishes her fingers, all the data she has ever hacked stored in them.
Widowmaker looked at the picture again, memorizing the picture carefully into her mind. For now she will only have the face for the name on the tombstone.
"What do you want me to do?"
"First... You'll need to go back to base and spar with SS28 and Sigma"
Sombra holstered her weapon and watch Widowmaker cautiously as she slowly stands.
"Was it you?" she said with venom in her voice.
"What?" Sombra asked back.
"Did you make the grave appear? Was it you?"
"I think I knocked you a bit too hard eh? With a heart that slow it's a wonder how you even function"
Widowmaker observes Sombra carefully and there are no lies that she could detect in her eyes.
In one smooth and quick motion that made Sombra jump, Widowmaker shot her grappling hook onto a structure above them and swing away.
Sombra sat down and began playfully hacking the devices of the crowd below her.
"All according to plan" she thought to herself.