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Overwatch: Birds of Prey
Chapter 1: Initiation
The air conditioning wasn't working.
She knew that was the least of her problems. She knew that in this part of the world, things got hot, and that she couldn't rely on a power suit to keep her cool. She knew that in a few hours' time, being hot could be made irrelevant, since other means of discomfort could extend to being shot, strangled, burnt alive, crushed, or any other painful way to die. She also knew that if she didn't pay attention during this briefing, she might suffer one of those methods of murder, and not necessarily at the hands of an omnic.
But still, the air conditioning...
"Team One will deploy at this point, assuming that outer defences have been neutralized. Team Two will rendezvous with Team One at Point Hestia. Teams Three and Four will be kept in reserve. All goes well, shouldn't need them, but this is the Army we're talking about."
No-one laughed at Captain Kamal's joke. Looking around, she saw that she wasn't the only one experiencing discomfort. Everyone was sweating. Their skin, their hair, their uniforms, they were all wet with the stuff. No-one had the energy to laugh. Though, if they did, she had a feeling that the response would be muted. Very soon, they'd be shot at, and being shot at meant that you sometimes got hit. When you got hit, sometimes your armour didn't stop the projectile, which resulted in a lot of bleeding, a lot of screaming, and a lot of cursing. Also meant that you might die. Which wasn't good. Not that she had died, but whatever her views on the afterlife, it wasn't something she was keen on experiencing. Not yet at least.
"So," Kamal said. "Any questions?"
She wasn't looking at Kamal. She was looking at the map that was being displayed behind him. Satellite recon of the target site, showing that it was big, well defended, and swarming with the enemy. A picture was worth a thousand words, and despite easily saying over a thousand words in the briefing, Kamal still hadn't captured what the picture told her. That if they went in, things would go bad. And that if they didn't, things would get worse.
"I have a question sir."
She glanced at Sergeant Navaratham. The glance said "don't," but it did her no good.
"What is it Sergeant?" Kamal asked.
Navaratham rose to his feet. "Why now?" he asked. "Why us?"
Kamal didn't look impressed, and she shot her sergeant a look. This time actually whispering "don't."
"We're HSI," Navaratham said. "Helix Security International."
"Duly noted. And?"
"And this isn't security. This is..." Navaratham gestured at the screen. "Well, this isn't what we do."
"Actually, our contract with the government means that it is our job," Kamal said. "We-"
"Contract's nearly up though isn't it?" Navaratham said. He looked around the assembled Raptora teams. "We all know it, right? HSI needs a win. Needs to look all pretty. Need to look like we can actually do our jobs." He began counting down on his fingers. "Grand Mesa. Max-Sec. Temple of Anubis. And now that Overwatch is back, we need to remind the world that we were chosen to replace them for a reason and-"
"Muzzle your dog, Lieutenant," Kamal said, frowning at her.
"Sir. Yes sir." She got to her feet and looked at Navaratham. "Sit down," she said.
Navaratham glared at her, and for a brief moment, she thought that he might throw a punch. Heat made people do funny things, and besides, if he got thrown in the brig, he'd at least be able to miss out on the upcoming assault. Not a common occurance, but her mother had told her stories of her time during the war. Of soldiers who'd given into fear to the extent that they'd do anything to get themselves off the frontline. She didn't doubt that Navaratham was scared. But, as he sat down, she was reminded that Team 1's NCO wasn't a coward. An asshole, sure, not to mention a loudmouth, but not a coward.
"Thank you," Kamal said. She went to sit down but he gave a grunt of "dismissed," and she knew that sitting down was no longer an option. Not when the Raptora troopers got to their feet and began heading for the door, or lingering in the far back. Their faces half in shadow, the other half illuminated by the light of the projector. Glancing around as she remained standing, she could see in their faces what she'd known was there all along - fear.
"Lieutenant?"
Fear she didn't doubt was etched on her face as well, as she saw Captain Kamal gesture to her. She glanced at Navaratham, and he gave her a curt nod, before leading the rest of Team 1 out to the exit. She'd be joining them soon, she reflected. Just not soon enough.
She arrived in front of the captain. He glanced around the room, before looking at her. "Mind telling me what that was about?" he asked.
"Sir?"
"Your sergeant's not keeping his mouth shut."
"Don't worry Captain. When the time comes, Navaratham will-"
"Time's already come and gone. Sergeant voices off, people notice. And when they notice, they might get ideas that they can buck authority as well." He returned his gaze to the podium, flicking his finger over the smartscreen on it.
"He's right though, isn't he?" she murmured. "About the whole public relations thing."
Kamal looked up at her. Behind his glasses, she could see fire in one eye, and ice in another.
"Talon attacks the Temple of Anubis. HSI responds. Collateral damage, casualties, government gets pissed we let it happen at all, and that we couldn't be more accurate with our rockets. Which is why we're taking part in this assault."
Kamal gave a wry smile. "And does that bother you? Considering what's at Point Hestia?"
"Command and control networks."
"And what's controlling those networks? What's giving the commands?"
She didn't say anything, and instead glanced at her fellow Raptora members. Only a few were still in the briefing room, and they didn't give the two COs a second glance. A lieutenant and a captain talking didn't mean much under most circumstances. And if it did mean something, they weren't privy to know.
"Is there a problem, Lieutenant? I imagine after recent events you could be...distracted."
She shook her head. "No sir. Of course not sir. Ready to do the mission sir."
Kamal didn't look convinced. Nevertheless, he gave her a nod. "Get to your unit Amari."
After that, he didn't say anything.
As she exited the room, nor did Fareeha.
Damn it's hot.
Lieutenant Fareeha Amari, Team 1, and all of HSI's Raptora teams were walking across the concrete of Mubarak Airfield. It was as far east a position as the Egyptian military had before getting into the Sinai, and even then, that was a place that not many people ventured into. No-one except Bedouin who'd held onto their way of life despite a rapidly changing (and warming) world. Which, given the lack of any significant human presence, meant that it had been the perfect place for Null Sector to carve out a base there. Mostly subterranean, only detected after a brief power spike that had coincided with the omnics' assault on Paris three weeks ago. An assault that had come just before a second assault on Rio de Janeiro, a renewed offensive from the omnics in Siberia, and various other brushfire skirmishes across the globe. The world didn't know if Null Sector had formed alliances with these other omnic groups, but for now, it didn't matter. Null Sector had a presence in the Sinai. Null Sector was operating with impunity inside Egypt's territories, and if it had created its own omnium, could be on its way to overrunning the country within a month. Ergo, a week ago, the president had given the order for an all-out assault. Ergo, three days ago, she'd learnt that HSI would be tagging along. Ergo, a day ago, she'd been briefed as to what was really inside the base's command and control structure designated Point Hestia. Ergo, she was here, at the airfield. Operating with some of the most advanced military technology in the world, while the Egyptian Armed Forces were operating with equipment that belonged back in the first Omnic Crisis.
But why did it have to be so damn hot?
Because you're not wearing a helmet.
She shook the voice in her head aside. It sounded like her mother, whom best she knew, was now in Europe alongside Jack Morrison hunting Reaper. HSI had stumbled in recent times, but it wasn't blind, and if Overwatch wanted to take back the place of global peacekeeper it had been bequeathed by the UN, then it wasn't going to make things easy for them. Years ago, she might have resented HSI for that. As of a few months ago however, she couldn't be sure. Two vigilantes pursuing a terrorist whom, according to rumour, was a former Overwatch member himself. This being while she was in Egypt, who ten years after Anubis had been shut down, was still dealing with the fallout. The world needed heroes, according to the posters she'd had in her old bedroom in Cairo. Now, at the age of 33, she agreed. Problem was, it was hard to find any.
Except in Paris. And Rio. And-
She shook the voice away. She was HSI, not Overwatch. HSI wasn't perfect, but it did good work. And, looking at her team, giving them a smile, she was reminded that she had responsibilities. Unlike Ana Amari, she couldn't just gallivant around pursuing shotgun-wielding madmen. No. She, unlike her mother, had a far more important job - shoot omnics, smash omnics, and shoot them after smashing them for good measure.
And other things.
She quickened her pace, cursing the voice. And the heat. Gods, the heat...it wasn't just her forehead that was sweating, it was her body as well.
"Focus," she whispered. "Just focus. Breathe."
"Talking to yourself L.T.?"
Fareeha glanced back at Corporal Faheer.
"First sign of madness you know."
She gave the woman a small smile, which faded as soon as she returned her gaze to the dropship that would be taking her and Team 1 into the fray. Four repulsors, ECMS, a hull that could withstand even a plasma blast, coupled with external cameras, automatic gun turrets, and all other manner of equipment that was designed to keep the dropship flying and its crew alive. But squinting through the heat-haze of the airfield, she reflected that the Egyptian military wasn't so lucky.
Tanks. IFVs. Mobile artillery. Helicopters, of all things. Ballistic weapons and body armour that would barely accomplish anything. It was material that had been bog standard thirty years ago. It was material that had remained the standard for the military of this country as it had tethered on the edge of collapse. That had been ten years ago, and she still remembered it. The lights going out. Computer networks failing. Automated harvesters grinding to a halt. Anubis could have done worse, she'd told herself. Overwatch had done the right thing, even if her fellow troopers in the Army didn't. But when you lost power and water, when your source of food became an unknown, that line could become hard to swallow. Egypt would survive, one president said after another. Egypt had been the birthplace of one of the world's greatest civilizations, and as low as its sun might be right now, it would see it rise again. Question of when that happened however, and how many people lived to see it? That was another matter.
She didn't know how many people would live to see Ra rise over the Nile again. Just as she didn't know how many people were going to die today. And...She clenched a fist, as she and her team reached the dropship. The doors were open, reminding her of the Gates of Duat. Once they closed, they'd be in a sealed space from which they'd deploy down into the Null Sector base. Swooping down like the birds of prey their suits were named after. Suits that, as she looked back at her squad, were not only multiple colours, but had multiple weapons as well. Rocket launchers. Tesla coils specifically designed to tackle omnics. Navaratham had the most antiquated firearm of the lot, being just that - a firearm. An automatic shotgun to be exact. Nevertheless, she'd seen what he could do with it, and pitied any metal-head who got in his way.
"Good day to die huh?"
Shame that she couldn't get his skills with guns without his 'skills' with a tongue, she reflected.
"Too soon?" he asked, smirking.
She sighed, and looked back at the squad. Private Akhmed looked scared but was trying to hide it. Private Muhamad didn't look like anything, since he already had his helmet on. Corporal Faheer gave her a sympathetic smile before boarding the dropship. Which left Fareeha alone to deal with her NCO.
"Get in the dropship Sergeant," Fareeha said.
"That's not answering my question."
"Not my job to answer your questions, it's my job to tell you how to do your job. So right now, that means..."
She trailed off, despite the punchline she'd intended. There, about twenty-five feet away. Egyptian Army soldiers making their way to one of the helicopters. Special forces by the looks of them, each of them bearing the insignia of the Sa'ka. Their presence wasn't out of place, given what was about to go down. But at the head of them was…
Oh gods.
She started walking towards them.
"Um, Lieutenant?" Navaratham asked.
"Get on the dropship, Sergeant," she said, quickening her pace. If Navaratham said anything to her, it was lost in the din of engines, blades, and repulsors warming up. That, plus distance, as she walked to the man at the head of the troopers.
What the hell am I doing?
She didn't know. Or, rather, she did know, she just didn't know why she was letting herself do this. Because if the man at the head of the squad was the person she thought it was, then things were about to get awkward.
"Sadiq?"
But it was too late. She'd asked him. The man at the head of the Sa'ka squad turned, looked at her, and Fareeha felt both embarrassment and relief. Embarrassment, because the man looking at her now certainly wasn't Sadiq Kasamatis, and relieved, because of the exact same reason.
"Can I help you?" the man asked.
Fareeha shook her head. "No. Sorry. I-"
"Something wrong Lieutenant?"
"No Sir, I..." Fareeha trailed off. The voice had been addressed to the man in front of her, but she'd fallen back into old habits at the drop of a hat. Or, rather, at the sound of a voice. Sadiq's voice. Sadiq, who, as she turned round, was walking over to her.
"Guess you didn't leave the Army completely behind," Sadiq murmured.
There was a smile on his lips, but no mirth behind them. But they were lips that Fareeha found herself focusing on, even as Sadiq gestured to his squad, telling them to head for the helicopter. She was watching the lips move, but not hearing the words come out of them.
"Don't you have somewhere to be?" Sadiq asked.
Those words, she heard. "Um, yes," she said. She glanced back at the dropship, where she could see Navaratham waiting for her. "Actually, I-"
"Then you should get to it." He walked past her, following his squad.
"Sadiq?" she asked - he kept walking. "Lieutenant Kasamatis?"
"Captain now, actually." He turned and looked at Fareeha, tapping the stars on his uniform. "Usually I leave the fieldwork to Lieutenant Hussein, but desperate times and all that."
Fareeha forced a smile. "Not that desperate. I-"
"Why are you here?" Sadiq asked. She saw him finger the pistol in his belt, and tighten the strap of his rifle over his shoulder.
"Here for the same reason you are," Fareeha murmured.
He snorted. "Helix Security International isn't an army. You think any of us believe that you're doing this for any other reason besides PR?"
Fareeha cleared her throat. "HSI is-"
"Can it. Why are you here?" Sadiq asked. "Spend your whole time in the Army thinking it's going to be a stepping stone for Overwatch, and when you lose that option, you jump ship to the next best thing."
"I didn't..." Fareeha paused, choosing her next words carefully. "Sadiq, I know that things got...complicated."
"Not that complicated."
"But all things considered, I think me leaving when I did was best for both of us. I mean, I'm leading a Raptora unit, you're a captain...honestly, think I did us a favour."
"Yeah?" He'd stopped fingering the pistol, but his eyes looked like bullets regardless. "Well, thanks, but I don't need any more of them." He tightened the strap of his rifle even further and headed for the helicopter.
"Sadiq?" Fareeha called out. "After the mission, if you want to..."
She saw him give a motion with his finger. It was moving in circles, signalling the helicopter to take off. But Fareeha knew that it was meant for her as well. And that there was more than one meaning behind it.
"Screw you then," she whispered, turning around and heading back to the dropship. "Screw you."
She gave one last glance at the special forces troopers before reaching the dropship. Back to where Team 1's Raptora troopers were already seated in the hold, or in the case of Navaratham, leaning against the hull, grinning.
"So," he said. "Did Princess Jasmine find her Prince of Persia?"
Fareeha walked past him and made a motion with her finger.
It didn't twirl.
A/N
So, fun fact, this started out as a oneshot, but it got so long I ended up turning it into a multi-chapter. Go figure.