Zagros Mountain Range, Iran-Iraq Border, Asia
Rocks crumbled beneath his fingertips as he pulled himself up the cliff, the vertical slab of rock continued to tower its way above him as he climbed it's brutally smooth cliff-face in the pitch-black of night. Briefly glancing down to find a hole to jam his foot in, he reveled in the adrenaline as he saw the base span out a mile below him. Looking back up towards the top, he could begin to make out the end of his journey as he swung himself from one crack to another, his fingers digging into the small crevice in the hard rock. In terms of physical exertion, this was the first mission in ages that felt like it was genuinely pushing him like he was accustomed too, as odd as it seemed it was a welcomed bit of familiarity.
As his body focused on scaling the cliff, his mind drifted towards his mission that brought him to the arid alpine steppe of the Zagros Mountains. Following up on the data that Zhou has brought them, they didn't have a location on the arms-dealer which was a bit lackluster considering the effort Talon went through to prevent the data from reaching their hands. Not to say it was a loss however, instead what they gained was a number of key routes and destinations that Talon would be using to transport weapons to numerous terrorist cells, unstable militias, and others who sought to create discord among the world's populace. Numerous raids were being carried out as he spoke or rather as he thought, he was but one of several groups attacking armed convoys transporting said weapons. Though he wouldn't be working alone, rather he was to meet up with another agent already in the field in the area, Jack Morrison or Soldier 76 depending on whether one called him by his name or unofficial moniker. After their initial meeting, Adrian had barely seen Morrison, let alone had a chance to converse with the man though to be fair its not as if he was actively seeking out the man. Their original encounter being a less than amiable experience left both with little desire to make any sort of amends, in the end it didn't matter as orders were orders. ODST's knew that better than anyone, half the corps had a visceral hatred for anything spartan despite most having never actually seen one but when push came to shove ODST and Spartans alike could shut their traps and do one hell of a job together.
Adrian felt his grip with his right-hand falter as the rock crumbled out beneath his fingers, he scrapped against the cliff as he braced himself against the wall sparks flying as titanium met limestone. His arm shot out, grasping for any sort of hold as he felt his footholds slipping away, his hand found a sizeable outcrop of rock sticking out from the cliff. Stopping with a jerk, he felt his heartbeat racing in his chest as he took a deep breath. Maybe it was a disease or something similar to Stockholm syndrome, having spent so much time faced with death that he came to love it, because with his heart feeling like it was about to burst it reminded him of the life-or-death moments as an ODSTs that brought back an inexplicable thrill to his veins.
"Fuck that's good." He chuckled as he continued his climb of the cliff-face, a faint smile gracing his lips under his helmet.
He wasn't sure how long he'd spent climbing, only that when he finally heaved himself up from the cliff the sun was just cresting over the ragged range of the Zagros. Taking a quick look around it finally settled on him how desolate this area was, as far as he could see there were no structures, roads, or sign of human life. In fact, the only sign of life was the faintest trail of dirt lining through thick grassy fields, evidence that there was some travel occurring though that was miles back. Reaching behind him, wrapped his hand around the unusual grip as he brought forth the Covenant beam rifle, it's smooth dark metal shell reflecting the early morning rays. After his latest encounters with Reaper and the nightmarish flood, it'd been enough of a slap to the face to make him bring along some covvie weapons and give him an edge in his next fight.
Pulling up his NAV map from inside his helmet, he checked his destination before flicking the screen away once more brining his attention to the stunning vista laid out before him. Trekking through the grassy steppe he eventually saw a thin column of smoke rising in the distance, likely the meeting point where he was supposed to rendezvous with Morrison. Cresting one final hill, he saw unmistakable leather sports jacket faced away from him and staring towards the fire, it still baffled Adrian that the man had choose such light attire for their occupation. Though as he drew closer Adrian realized that the man wasn't alone, opposite of Morrison sat a hunched figure with thick robed garb and a heavy hood covering their face.
"You didn't mention we'd be having company." Adrian remarked as he neared, his finger moving to hover over the trigger of the beam rifle.
The older man turned around, his red visor staring Adrian straight on, "Doesn't change the mission."
"Barely seen you since our meeting and now I get to meet your friends? How generous of you."
"I've been hunting my prey for a long time before Overwatch got back together, can't drop those problems on a whim." He drawled out.
"Not going to introduce us Jack? I thought you'd had better manners." The unknown member spoke up as they pulled their hood back to reveal an older woman, light gray hair fell backwards with a thick bandage eyepatch wrapped around her head. "You can call me Amari, I served with Overwatch before it fell as well, though it seems the moment I leave Jack alone he gets into all sorts of problems." She turned to him, an uncertainty passing through her sole eye.
Adrian's eyebrows raised under the helmet, "Name's Kasporov…but you said your name was Amari?"
"That's right."
"I'll save you the trouble, she's Fareeha's mother. Problem solved." Morrison grunted.
The older Amari shot him a dirty look before focusing back on Adrian, "I suppose I shouldn't be surprised you know her; I know she went into Overwatch after the fiasco with Helix. Tell me though, how is she?"
Adrian took a seat around the fire, laying the rifle in his lap as he depolarized his helmet wondering what was stopping the woman from asking her daughter herself but pushed that aside. It wasn't his problem to worry about and he wasn't in the business of dealing with other people's personal lives.
"Well enough I suppose, we haven't spoken much though from what I can tell in the field she's ferocious with a wicked strategist's mind. One hell of a deadly combo honestly, if I'd met more officers with half of her wits…well maybe the military could finally pull some decent organization out of its ass."
Morrison snorted at that remark as Ana nodded with a ghost of a smile, "Sounds like she's doing just fine. What's your story then? Military man obviously."
"Russian private sector, special operations." Adrian lied as naturally as he breathed, this story was one of the first things him and Winston had settled to explain his gear, training, and existence or rather lack thereof in this world. Though the best lies were of course ones sprinkled with truth, "Shit got bad during an op, got separated from my unit and haven't heard anything since. I offer my services to Winston in return for him to help find my squad."
"For so long though? I couldn't imagine your squad to have been to such a drastic degree."
"The situation went south real fast, at this point its more a question if they're still alive."
Any further conversation was thankfully cut short by Jack interrupting, tapping his watch to signify that it was time to set the plan in motion.
"The set-up is simple, Kasporov take a position on that ridge overlooking the pass. I've buried a number of small mines along their predicted path, they'll donate when the first vehicle is right above them causing the entire caravan to stall. When that happens, you'll pick off those on the end, stop them from retreating and pulling back. I'll make my way from the front while Ana here keeps my back secured. Easy enough?"
Adrian gave a curt nod as he stood back up, shouldering his rifle as Morrison suffocated the fire with a swift kick of dirt. Separating himself from the duo, he lightly jogged to the position, an elevated ridge that gave a good vantage point allowing him a clear view of the entire convoy's side profile. Laying down on the soft earth, he crawled forwards to the edge until the tip of the beam rifle was just barely hanging over. Adjusting his body until he was comfortable, he prepared himself for a long period of doing nothing. For how eager the covvies were to kill all of humanity, they sure as hell enjoyed taking their damn time doing just about anything, the number of times his squad had been deployed to assassinate a high-value commander only to be laying still for hours on end until the damn hinge-head finally decided to show his face was enough to drive a man to insanity.
Time passed like a river for Adrian as he laid upon the dirt, eyes trained on narrow path before him, waiting for the slightest sign of movement to call him into action. Though in the end he heard the call before he saw it, the deep rumbling of militarized motorcade had no trouble echoing through the mountains. Readjusting one final time, he peered down the alien scope as he waited for the inevitable.
When the first vehicle finally made itself clear, it was if the whole world went silent as he focused solely on what he saw, blocking out any outside senses. For missions like this there's an energy you can't find elsewhere, it's not a nervous tension nor is it heart pounding adrenaline, rather it's like an indescribable uncertainty. The long build-up, the eerie quietness, the unusual calmness, it strikes an unusual chord within somebody that leads their mind to wonder. Take for instance this very mission, a bombastic blast will bring this area into a free fire zone or the convoy will rumble on none the wiser should the mines fail. Though of course the latter is near impossible, a dud is unlikely and for the trio to simply let the convoy pass without any action is ludicrous. Regardless that doesn't stop the thoughts, the feelings from worming their way inside your mind and asking, 'what if'.
For a split second it seemed as if the silence became all consuming with the world slowing to a halt as Adrian perceived every detail of his targets, ingrained very inch of space to his mind as he centered the reticle over the driver of the tailing truck. Then as soon as that second came it disappeared with a thunderous clap of power as a shockwave rolled throughout the ragged sierra. Shouts of surprise echoed from the men below as they frantically tried to piece together what had happened.
Adrian lightly flexed his finger over the trigger, sending a blistering bolt of ionized hydrogen rocketing forward towards the driver of the last vehicle in the column. The bolt easily pierced the glass like a knife through butter, making an even easier pass through the man himself as it cut straight through his neck. There was no blood spurt, no violent eruptions as the shot cauterized the wound near instantaneously; rather the bastard just slumped backed into the seat like an old man passing in their sleep. The sheer heat radiating from the fired ammo causing third-degree burns around the wound simply from being in close proximity and melting the glass it pass through, we're he a better marksman the likes of Wizard then he could've capped both agents in the front seats. Alas he was not that good, so he had to settle for quickly snapping the beam rifle's barrel half an inch over to the other soldier in the passenger seat as he desperately tried to take control of the idling truck.
With the column stuck in a slim pass and their way forward barred by a flaming wreck, they though to hightail it out the way they came in, a sensible plan in any scenario had the tail truck not been filled with only corpses. The vehicles tried to reverse only to slam into the front end of bumper of the corpse truck, causing a domino effect for the rest of the column as they rammed into one another in a fruitless effort to escape. Gunfire erupted from the front of the convoy as Morrison made his move, cutting through the swath of confused terrorists and Talon mercenaries as Adrian did the same but from the opposite end. Picking off anyone that came out into the open, slowly making his path inward leaving a trail of bodies in the wake of his sharpshooting.
A bullet ricocheted off the rocks a few meters away, a rushed attempt to get a lucky shot at their oppressing sniper. Adrian scanned the battlefield to find the amateur marksmen, finally settling on a man with piss-poor form trying to fire a DMR with no accurate pattern to any of the shots he was taking. Adrian let loose a burst of ionized hydrogen, watching as the bolt cut through the man's DMR taking all his fingers along with it. The ravaged rifle fell to the ground with the man staring dumbfounded at his now severed digits laying on the ground. Adrian adjusted his aim a hair to the right before letting loose another shot, this one hitting true as lanced the man's chest in the blink of an eye.
Adrian scoped his way down the rest of the column, clearing out any unwanted combatants with refined ruthlessness, occasionally huffing in annoyance as Ana would cap one of his targets mere seconds before he could pull the trigger. Morrison had an equally cavalier attitude in the action though it'd be hypocritical of Adrian to call him out on that. In any other situation there would be callouts, designation of targets, relation of position to the shooters, but well it seemed that organization was never one of Overwatch's strong suits, besides he'd always loved a good challenge to test their skills. Was it reckless? Most definitely, but ODST's were never one to play it safe. He doubted the aged Amari saw this as some sort of coemption, but against the Covenant a macabre humor often developed as a way to combat the existential crisis faced on a daily basis.
He'd have to play the technical differences of their weapons to his advantage; he couldn't rapidly fire the weapon otherwise it would overheat costing him valuable seconds. Though he had the advantage of not needing to reload and depending on Amari's weapon of choice the reload cold be anywhere from lightning quick to cumbersomely heavy hitting. If he could keep the firing to a constant rhythm, then the rifle wouldn't overheat which was a blessing not just in time but to prevent burning his hands. Though as the seconds turned into minutes it became increasingly harder to find a target, eventually the firing ceased as Adrian put one final bolt in the back of a fleeing tango.
For a moment he laid there in the once calm silence of the cordillera, moving his eye away from the scope, he took in the destruction laid across the Zagros. Bringing himself to a kneel, he passed over the ruined convoy with his rifle once more looking for anyone waiting to make a run for when the fighting had calmed.
Seeing nothing he radioed to Morrison, "All clear from where I am."
"Agreed, get down here and help to check these trucks, mark anything useful to be taken back to base."
Sliding the beam rifle onto his back, he walked to the side before hopping off and sliding down from the ridge. Small rocks trailed him down as she hit the ground with a brief stumble before quickly regaining his composure as he looked towards the corpse strewn road. Looking down the column of vehicles he saw Morrison and Ana checking the first two respectively, so he made his way towards the end. Trekking down the road, he was caught off-guard by a faint groaning emanating from the bodies littered around. Surveying the carnage, he spied the faint rising chest of the poor bastard that was still alive, with an expressionless face he drew the SOCOM from it's holster and put a bullet in the man's head. The armor piercing round splattering the already drenched soil with even more bodily crimson, briefly he offered a quick apology to the good doctor Ziegler halfway across the world, 'Old habits die hard'.
Turning back to the objective at hand, he passed by his opening handiwork, the glass still sizzling from where the beam had sliced through it with faint smoke leaking from cabin. Walking to the back he threw open the back hatch, stacks of sealed boxes with the faint emblazoned logo of Talon adoring a number of the crates. Pulling himself onto the bed, he drew his knife to crack the first trunk which unsurprisingly revealed a plethora of arms, gear, and ammo. He repeated the action numerous times as he checked every inch of the truck, marking every valuable crate with a right strike across the Talon logo. This took the next half an hour as he went from one vehicle to the next, the opposite of invigorating but a necessary step of securing the supplies.
Landing with a thud he sighed in relief as he realized that was the last truck left for him to clear, turning past the corner of the truck he walked down the blood-soaked road, avoiding the myriad of bodies littering the ground. Off in the distance he could hear Morrison giving a report of the success of the mission to Winston. Sitting down a rocky outcropping, he cracked his helmet just enough for his mouth to get in a fresh gust of air to quickly be replaced with a heavy smoke as he lit a cigarette. The elder Amari took a seat next to him, clearly tired from the mundane task as she unclasped a flask of water and took a deep sip from it. Catching Adrian's focus on her drink, she offered it to him for which he gladly accepted, guzzling he lukewarm water with fervor. Handing the canteen back to her he offered her the cigarette he held in his hand, she shook her head as he put it back in his mouth.
"Where I younger I would've taken you up on that offer, though in my old age I've realize the frailty of life. Its such a shame to see such violence necessary, in a perfect world such drastic action wouldn't be necessary." Ana spoke solemnly as she surveyed the carnage that Adrian only looked at with indifference.
"For Talon this probably is their perfect world, violence sowing violence seems to be their motto." Adrian remarked as he took a drag.
"Sadly I agree, though I can't help the pity I feel for them. Hatred-fueled fools they may be taking advantage of even more foolish bigots, but they still have families…loved ones."
"They brought it on themselves though, they sought conflict so I find it hard to feel anything but contempt."
"But what about their children? The ones who don't know better but will inevitably learn of the 'bad guys' that put their father in the ground? I know force has to answer force in this world, I'm saddened not naïve."
"You sound like the Doc Ziegler." He mused as he blew smoke into the air. "She shares a similar philosophy though hers is a bit more…"
"Optimistic?" Ana grinned.
"I was going to say foolish, but yours is nicer. 'Sides the Doc's got a good head on her shoulders with a heart bigger than most, so I suppose it ain't fair to call it foolish."
"Ah I remember Ziegler; she was so young when she'd came aboard though she'd never gotten used to the militaristic approach Overwatch took. To hear it now I'm honestly surprised she came back."
"She was surprised herself, though it seemed her desire to help people outweighed her own personal grudges with Overwatch's policies."
Ana stayed silent for a moment, contemplating a storm of thoughts within her head, "Maybe I should follow in her steps." Adrian shot her with a confused glance, "It's been so long since Overwatch, been so disappointed with it in the end that I never looked backed once I was presumed dead. Though if that innocent child can look past Overwatch's flaws… then maybe I should too."
"I'm sure your daughter would love you see you as well." Adrian remarked.
"That…that I'm not so sure about." She gave him a somber smile before her gaze turned to the incoming bootsteps.
Following her gaze he turned to see Morrison walking towards them. It was hard to tell what the man was thinking or feeling, part of it was the obscuring mask but another part felt like the man was constantly scowling. You could tell him he'd won a million and found true love and Adrian guaranteed the man would give off the aura that someone shit in his shoes. Though this time the man's annoyance would be well justified given the news he was about to tell.
"No rest for the wicked; a bomb just went off in Barcelona in the Omnic quarter after a relatively peaceful few months in the city."
"Fucking hell, we know why?" Adrian swore.
"Not a clue, the news just broke. That's part of why we're going, to establish a cause but also to make sure the city doesn't break out into a full-blown warzone. Shimada and Oxton are already on the scene, but more support has been requested in case the situation deteriorates any more than it already has."
"Talon involved?" Anan asked.
"Unsure, just as likely as it could be them it might just be some assholes out for some violence. As for our current goal, a secondary team's already been called in to handle the crates, but right now our primary task is stop Barcelona from turning into a second King's Row."
The deafening sound of an Orca's engines filled his ears as the massive support craft flew overheard towards the widened opening at the entrance to the narrow pass. Tossing his cigarette off to the side, he stepped on it with the heel of his boot before pulling down his helmet and sealing it to his armor.
"What happened there?"
"It wasn't pretty."
Adrian took one last glance at the massacre behind them, sighing as he hopped onto the back of the Orca, looking out upon the vast landscape stretching out before him as the aircraft rose into the air. From starting a bloodbath to preventing one, maybe the gods in this new world deiced Adrian had been sitting on his ass too long or maybe they simply had a sick sense of humor.