The sun was slowly descending past the horizon, making way for tonight's full moon. The blaze of the desert surface was cooling down as it was no longer enduring an onslaught of sunlight. A light breeze grazed the sands, carrying some of its stored heat with it.

Today was a particularly exhausting day for the mercenaries, having to work under a massive heatwave. Despite both teams trying to convince the administrator to change one of the maps, she did not allow it because it was already too late. It didn't help that their final match of the day was Payload in Badwater Basin. Despite winning, it left the Blu team absolutely exhausted, some of which had suffered heatstroke in the middle of battle despite being fully restored on respawn.

◆ ─────⇾» ✕ «⇽───── ◆

Inside one of the many desert ravines was a well-hidden base. Similar to their Hydro map, a large portion of the building was hidden inside the desert walls. Of the few signs visible, they acted more like blue accents that indicated this was Blu Team's base. Within the farthest reaches was a dry, large, open-top cavern that served as a yard for a few of the mercs. Along the closest wall was a small portable building that served as their discussion room. This was where the mercs gathered for their meetings or the occasional private discussion.
There wasn't much room to walk around because of the large wooden table in the farther half and a projector on a smaller table behind it. There was sufficient personal space even when all nine mercs were in that one room, but a lot of moving frequently may pose an issue. There was a large chalkboard built into the farthest wall with a projector screen hanging overhead. Along the farther adjacent wall was a corkboard littered with crude notes, articles, and an occasional A4-sized document pinned, all of which were important for specific mercenaries for very different reasons. There was a large whiteboard of a very similar size with the words "ATTACK/DEFEND - DUSTBOWL", "CAPTURE THE FLAG - 2FORT", and "ARENA - SAWMILL" written and bolded in red marker. The teams were given the map and game mode for tomorrow's matches, and Engineer was responsible for keeping track; he wrote it as a reminder for when they gather tomorrow.
Not many were willing to meet up for a match recap or for planning for tomorrow's match. Spy, Medic, and Engineer were the only ones who showed up.

◆ ─────⇾» ✕ «⇽───── ◆

Medic placed his hands on the table, leaning over a marked map of Dustbowl unrolled across a wooden table. It had a series of different coloured marks and scratches of arrows and class symbols. The few words that were on there were "Attack" or "Defend" in their respective colours.
"Okay, is zat all? Not like ze plans changed much." Medic capped the black marker and used it as a pointer. "Just moved you and Sniper here, and Pyro has moved closer to ze Sentry Nest."

The blue-masked mercenary crossed his arms, shifting his gaze from the plans to his colleague. "I told you it was a simple fix. You did not need me or Engineer."

The doctor lifted his head slightly so he could make eye contact with his doubter. The circular overhead light was at just the right angle so it reflected a warm-toned dot of light on the glasses, hiding the doctor's eyes. "Vell, who knows? You might have somezing interesting to say."

"If I did, then I would have said it long ago. Besides, we have tomorrow to chat."

A brief silence filled the room as Medic dropped his head down. The glare from his glasses had vanished, revealing his focused dull-blue eyes scanning through the plans.

Spy was about to open his mouth when he heard Engineer break the silence first.
"Dontcha ever wonder why we're still here?"

A very random, peculiar question indeed. He awaited a continuation for more context or for Medic to answer before him, but there didn't appear to be any. From the times the pair had spoken by the campfire, Spy knew Engineer to be the philosophical type. Perhaps it was another one of his rants, albeit the timing for this one was quite sore.

"Ugh, mon Dieu. Don't ask me that question. I cannot answer."

"No, I mean here." The stubby hatted man gestures towards the closed door. "All 'o this senseless killin', an' for what?"

Medic lifted himself off of the plans and turned his head to the analyst. "No one really dies, so where is ze harm in zat?"

"When it's put like that, yeah." Engineer took a step forward, placing the red marker on the table gently. "But we're still killin'. And what, for the entertainment of others?"

"Zey broadcast our matches to keep funds up for ze company."

"An' we can't communicate with our fans?"

"I did not take zis job to be a celebrity." Medic retorted.

"Okay, fine." Engineer answered in a mildly vexed tone. He placed one hand on the table, leaning closer to Medic's edge. "But heck, we can barely reach out to our own families without filin' a request. They can't even come t' visit 'cause we're out in the middle of nowhere."

Hearing the word "family" made Spy's core hurt. He showed no visible signs of discomfort, evident of his job as a Spy. However, he was able to catch a glimpse of Medic's face saddening briefly, before he caught himself and returned to his neutral expression.
Despite maintaining a good relationship with all of his co-workers, Spy realized he barely knew much about Medic. Whether it be a direct conversation or eavesdropping, he knew many of his colleagues had opened up about their pasts. Medic was the only one who blatantly avoided speaking about his, which wasn't necessarily a bad thing - Spy did it as well. Although he understood where the doctor was coming from, it has been a part of his job since the beginning. He never really got close enough to anyone to where it mattered anyway.
He took note of Medic's discomfort.

Engineer frustratedly grabbed his walkie-talkie from his side, holding it up for the pair to see. "All we got for communication are these lil' things an' the radio in the office, but that's restricted to the administrator 'n anyone else authorized on her behalf."

Spy narrowed his eyes at the Engineer. Something was off with this conversation, and it wasn't just the unusual topic. Although he wanted to call him out, he remained quiet to see how this would play out.

"An' how about our base? We can't leave on our own terms. For some reason, we gotta be escorted to town an' back like we're children. Come on, dontcha miss the freedom?"

Medic stood upright. He stood at an angle where the light made a glare that covered half of his glasses lens.
"All jobs have zere drawbacks. I get free access to a laboratory and don't have to vorry about ze costs of my medical research or housing. If all it costs is my medical expertise and some of my freedom, I vould take it. And I did."

Engineer kissed his teeth and shook his head. "This ain't a way to live, doctor."

"You sink zis 'ain't a way to live', Diego. Vhy did you even take zis job if you're going to complain about it?"

"I hafta."

"That's enough." Spy interjected. "I did not come here to listen to your bickering. If we are done, I am leaving."

Spy started for the door, picking up a crumpled piece of paper on the ground when he heard Medic speak up. "Festhalten, Spy."

Spy heard Medic call out for him to 'hold on.'
He stopped and turned around.

"Ve do need to talk to you."

Spy smirks. "Were the theatrics necessary?"

"That wasn't in the plan." Engineer turned to Medic and apologized. "Sorry, I ain't mean to get so heated."

"Likewise." The doctor placed his hand on Engineer's shoulder, before passing him and opening a drawer underneath the windows parallel to the white and cork boards. "Ve need your help, Claude."

The confident Frenchman returned to the table, placing the ball of paper down. "Why do you need my assistance?"

"It's what we 're arguin' about," Engineer responded.

"Elaborate."

Medic returned to the desk with a small dark brown book. The hardcover appeared almost market quality: a stark contrast to the other battered soft covers found in that drawer. The corners of the journal were covered by shiny brass corners, and a metal clasp with a lock. Its cover face was also completely blank, apart from Medic's small class symbol embossed into the top right corner.

Spy took note of where Medic grabbed it.

"The Administrator's hidin' somethin' from us, and we know you're the only one with the skill to gather information. You ain't obligated to help if ya ain't interested, an' we trust 'is stays between us."

Spy let out a single breath in disbelief. "You should have opened with the intent."

Engineer and Medic looked at Spy with wide-eyed incredulity, but he did have a point.

The playful man shook his head with a smile. He agreed with their goal as he also had a problem with how the Administrator is running them. "Yes, this will stay between us."

"I vould have made sure zis stays between us." The Doctor threatened, unlocking the journal. Although Medic didn't have the physical strength to overpower Spy, there were many other things he could control his actions from, all of which Spy was aware of. Most notably: mandatory surgery.

"If you like your job so much, why are you part of this operation?" Spy inquired.

"I don't have to hate somezing to be curious."

"Of course, but if this affair leaves us unemployed?"

Medic brushed off the question, opening the book to a page with small, terribly drawn diagrams of certain views of their battle maps. "Here is a list of some of ze places ve need you to investigate during off-hours."

Spy skimmed the contents of the page quickly. They wanted him to plant bugs in certain locations of the maps. The only way to get through there was to take the match teleporter in the teleporter hub. The administrator made it clear that each teleporter is moderated by her staff to send them to the right places when necessary, and some will not work during some hours. There is also a small chance of teleport lag, so if you haven't seen a colleague in the past couple of minutes it may be that.
There were many times Spy tried to return to the maps of their matches, but the teleporter was inoperable.

"And how do you propose I get in? I've attempted a myriad of times, but nothing works."

Engineer held the walkie-talkie again, this time clicking something off of the bottom. A black USB stick fell into his hand, and he gave it to Spy. "It won't work without this."

Spy grabbed the USB and observed it, flicking the lid up with his thumb.

"Connect this to the office CPU an' leave it in. Set it to the map you're buggin', an' it'll change the teleporter's location. Make sure ta retrieve it when yer done."

Spy nodded at Engineer, capping and placing the USB in the front pocket of his suit.

"I will be done in two days, but I need this book." Spy gestured the doctor's journal at him.

"Go through ze whole sing vhile you have it." Medic insisted.

Spy closed the book. "Is there anything else I need to be aware of?"

"I think ya already know the rest," Engineer replied. "All the stuff about the Administrator's rules. Everythin' else should be in that book."

"Alright." Spy confirmed. "I should get going if I'll get through this journal tonight."

Engineer was already cleaning off the table, picking up the markers and rolling up the map.

"Dankeschön, Spy." Medic readjusted his glasses, then placed his hand on the table and bowed forward slightly as a sign of gratitude.

"Bitte sehr." Spy concealed the book in his suit and picked up the crumpled piece of paper from before, unwrapping it to see its contents.

"Stefan," Spy caught Medic's attention by calling him by his name. "Sie haben meine Frage nicht beantwortet."
The Frenchman reminded the German in his native language to avoid receiving a response from the American. Spy called out Medic, pointing at how he never answered his question. He briefly looked at Medic, then at the paper. It was a well-illustrated hash line doodle of Scout and Pyro setting him on fire. Spy sighed and rolled his eyes, crumpling it again.

"Arbeitslosigkeit? Oder mein Engagement?" Medic sounded quite irritated. He was not sure if the agent meant his point regarding unemployment or his involvement.

"Ihre Engagement."

"What're you two on about?" Engineer asked with his arms crossed, returning from the drawers he placed the markers and map in. "If you're fightin'-

"Ve're not fighting," Medic responded in a noticeably more monotone voice. "It is just a misunderstanding."

Medic turned his head back to Spy.

"Ich habe meine Gründe."

Spy nodded once, only closing his eyes at the dip of his descent.

Medic walked towards the door, feet clicking against the ground louder than usual. He stopped at the door handle.

"Goodnight."

Medic unintentionally slung the door open and left without saying another word.

The atmosphere left behind that interaction only grew tenser with every second of silence. Engineer had nothing to say in regards to that for fear of making it worse.
Spy walked towards the garbage can and tossed the paper into the garbage before heading for the door.

"Goodnight, Diego."

Engineer waved at his new ally. "G'night."

◆ ─────⇾» ✕ «⇽───── ◆

Claude's living quarters were not too far from the defence subgroup's field. The base was separated into three, dividing three mercenaries into each section. The support section was the furthest into the base, which also meant it was more often the coldest region.

Spy exhaled as he opened up his door. His room is the second furthest down in the base - only beat out by Sniper, but by now he was used to the cooler climate. The exhaustion from today's heat definitely made the temperature nicer.

Click.

The agent flipped on the light switch, flooding the room with light. He then walked over to his bedside desk, emptying his pockets. He left Medic's journal and the USB in full view, while he tossed his handkerchief and switchblade on the opposite side of the surface top, careful to avoid accidentally tossing something into the ashtray. He didn't usually carry much with him, so unloading everything felt nice.
He changed out of his suit, hanging it on a separate hanger rack on the opposite side of the room. He then opened his closet, grabbing a pair of pyjamas and sliding them on. He made a quick visit to his door side to switch off the light, then he made his way back to his bed.

Click click.

He clicked on the lamp, and then pulled open the drawer to pull out a cigarette and a lighter. Spy was surprised this was only his second cigarette of the day. Although he had a smoking room he frequented, he was too exhausted to make the trip there. Instead, he stood by his silver faux silk curtain-covered window which overlooked the support field.

Tchik, tchik, tchik.

He lit his cigar, taking a whiff as he looked outside. This cavern was man-made, lit only by electrical battery-powered lights scattered across the ground. It was the smallest of the fields, which was quite fitting seeing as the only person who ever used it was Sniper. Speaking of which, his camper stuck out in the generally barren field.
Spy felt awkward standing there simply because of how indiscreet he appeared. The fact that the only remotely interesting object in the field was the camper made him feel more like a stalker rather than an agent. Although he only ever looked out that window when he had nothing else to do, he never got over the mild embarrassment when Sniper would catch Spy looking at his camper. I mean, there was nothing else to look at.

Sniper's camper glowed brightly in the dim cavern. He saw the marksman's faint silhouette pass by his white vinyl blinds, which were then shortly flipped up. The observer got a better view of the inside of the camper. It was small, absolutely jam-packed with boxes filled with junk and a single unmade bed. Sniper stood at the window in a white tank top and shorts, surveying the empty field for whatever reason Spy didn't understand, nor cared to.
Sniper looked up at Spy's room, which had a faint glow that outlined Spy's figure. He smiled and raised his hand as a greeting. Spy returned the gesture and stepped away from the window.

He returned to his bedside and rubbed his cigarette into the ashtray, then picked up the journal and sat on the bed. The journal was small but thick, and from doing a quick scrub through it on the way back, he knew it would take about an hour or two. He flipped the book open to the first page.

The operation was titled "Archimedes".

Author's Notes

Restructure! I like this one a lot more LOL
This will def jumble up the flow of other more angsty chapters I have planned but yunno what it's all good

I'm also a little sad because fanfiction doesn't support some of the unicodes of separates I wanna use for more focused perspectives :'D
It's okay we go with the flow h;

- Rät

Post Date: November 11, 2021