Mercy followed.
As a general rule she was not a follower, she was a leader. She felt an almost maternal desire to protect these strays she had collected. But more than that, she was an angel. She was supposed to be better than mortals, she was supposed to have a plan, a purpose, a mission. She hardly knew what it was anymore. She felt like a secondary character, as if she were only there to heal the others.
Not true. She was there to guide them, assist them, save them. And, if possible, to work out how to save the world. Because the world needed saving. She just didn't quite know what was wrong with it. Reaper did – or at least he knew more than she did.
It was Tracer who was leading the group. Tracer, who Mercy had once thought of as Tracy, a girl whose British accent was more and more noticeable now that she had dropped her disguise. A lithe, athletic young woman who seemed as comfortable sneaking through the dark night streets of this Japanese village as she had rushing into battle. Fearless. Brave. Driven, it seemed, by her love for Genji.
They had to be very quiet. There were guards everywhere. So far they had managed to avoid any major scuffles but it didn't seem likely that they would keep this up much longer. Reaper kept flitting in and out of the shadows, one with the darkness, a wraith of death. Tracer, using some strange ability she had picked up only recently, jumped forward and backward in time, checking around corners and dashing across wide open spaces with speed that none of the others could match.
Mercy was almost as light on her feet. If the need arose she could simply spread her wings and glide noiselessly from one space to another. It was the smelly Junker who was, without doubt, holding them up. Junkrat's false leg tapped and thudded against the stones of the road, making an unbelievable noise. It echoed up and down the streets, and Mercy was sure they would hear it in Tokyo, or perhaps Mount Fuji. And as if that wasn't bad enough he insisted on giggling and talking to himself. There was some kind of madness in Junkrat. A madness that Mercy did not want to see unleashed.
They stopped to catch their breath near a restaurant.
'Do you actually know where you're going?' Mercy hissed. She did not mean to come across as nasty, but wasn't sure she could help it.
'Of course not.' Tracer replied. 'I've never been here before. If you want to take over, go ahead.'
Mercy did not want to take over, but she didn't want to risk the mission either. They had already risked too much. Widowmaker, the French assassin, would not wait for them to leave Japan. The last thing Mercy wanted was to be stranded here. She needed answers, and it didn't seem likely they would be found in a small village run by a Japanese warlord.
'I didn't think so.' Tracer snapped. She started to lead onwards.
'Hold on. Just a momento.' Junkrat raised a hand. 'I have a suggestion.'
'By all means.' Mercy waved a hand.
'Why don't we look for a hospital? We know Genji was injured when they brought him here. Seems likely they'd be looking after him in some kind of medical facility.'
'He's right.' Reaper's voice echoed in their minds.
'So, where's the nearest hospital, smart arse?' Tracer asked.
'Smart arse? Well that's a fine how-do-you-do.' Junkrat sniffed his nose, pretending to be offended. 'It doesn't matter where the nearest hospital is. Genji is a prisoner of war – a soldier. They'd only take him to one hospital.'
'Bollocks.' Tracer covered her mouth. 'I mean… shit. He's right again.'
'I'm not familiar with what you're referring to.' Mercy admitted. They may or may not believe she was an angel, but she didn't have to pretend to be confused about the ways of humans. It was clear on her face that she didn't follow the train of thought.
'He means that Genji will be kept in the main military grounds. That big base that covers most of the city? He's in there. Probably right in the middle, three floors underground, strapped to a table covered in wires in a scary looking bed with scary looking nurses and…' Tracer took a deep breath. 'We've got to get him out.'
Mercy exchanged a look with Reaper. She didn't have to see through his mask to know they were both thinking the same thing.
'Three of us can get over that wall with ease. But Junkrat will struggle…'
'That's fine.' He grinned maniacally. 'I'll create the distraction.'
They left the cover they had found and crept back into the darkness. The streets opened up on either side, and Mercy felt suddenly very exposed, as if the whole world could see her, were watching her. Junkrat loped into the middle of a nearby courtyard, kicked at a lamp post, and straddled a parked hover car.
'Well!' He cried, 'What are you waiting for?'
Mercy nodded. 'Come on.' She led Tracer and Reaper further along the road where the nearest wall was. All they had to do was get over the top and they would be inside the military base. They had seen it earlier, while scouting from a high building. There were training grounds, all sorts of equipment, runways and vehicle hangars, conference buildings, barracks… once inside it would be easy enough to spot the medical wing and, from there, find Genji.
Reaper crossed his arms, faded into smoke, and reappeared a moment later at the top of the wall. No trouble at all for him. Tracer flickered in the air and was suddenly, incredibly, standing beside him. Only Mercy remained. She spread her wings, and turned to Junkrat for what she thought might be the last time.
'Thank you,' she said. He nodded, winked, and raised his grenade launcher.
'It's a pleasure to help a sheila in need.'
Mercy was turning to fly away when the first shot rang out – it had not been fired by her, or Junkrat. She looked around, wildly, and spotted the Japanese soldiers crouching behind a nearby hover car. One was radioing for backup while the other lined up his weapon for a second shot. Mercy ducked, worried that if she started to fly now she might take a hit she could not recover from.
Junkrat did not even falter. He raised the weapon and rained destruction on the vehicle, launching a barrage of grenades that, with each hit, tore the vehicle apart. The explosions flared up and sections of metal were thrown in all directions. The two soldiers were both decimated by the blast.
'Go!' he shouted. Then cackled with glee.
Mercy looked up at the top of the wall and spread her wings a second time… but she didn't get a chance to fly. Bullets raked the air and she dived down. Junkrat spun. There were more enemies approaching from another direction. He flung out his arm and a trap flew through the air. It connected with the first in line, clamped around his head, and bit the top part of his body off from the shoulders up. Blood and gore sprayed those behind.
Junkrat followed with a heroic leap into the air, kicked one of the enemies in the teeth with his peg leg, and swung his grenade launcher into another, knocking him down. Mercy got to her feet, raised her staff, and followed Junkrat to help him. This had not been the plan, but she was not the type to leave a man behind.
They might have been outnumbered, but there was no accounting for Junkrat's skills as a warrior. He leapt, danced, dodged, dived, in and around and between and over his enemies, raining explosives and traps upon them. Mercy, who had never paid much attention to the maniacal Australian, didn't even know where he kept them all – hooked to the straps that ran across his back?
He was taking hits now. Seven… Eight… Nine enemies down, and Junkrat had been shot twice. He was slowing. Mercy raised her staff and allowed the golden healing light to flow through her, and into him. He perked up, roused and ready.
'Thanks!' He shouted.
Mercy focused, allowed the beam of light to channel her energy, her anger, her power. It pulsed down the beam until it was too much, too thick, cackling with electricity. The beam flared from golden, to white hot, to blue. There was so much power streaming from her to him that it was, literally, more than Junkrat could absorb. It needed an outlet. It found his weapon, imbued it, forged it with the energy and strength of Heaven.
'Fire!' Mercy screamed.
Junkrat fired. A single grenade lobbed through the air, up and up, over to the next group of Japanese guards approaching. It hit them dead on.
It hit them with the explosive pressure of a small atomic bomb – or at least that was what it felt like. The soldiers were obliterated, destroyed into tiny pieces and strewn across the road. The sheer force of the explosion rocketed back, sent Junkrat and Mercy thumping onto their backs.
Junkrat pushed himself to his feet. Mercy stood beside him, and they surveyed the area. No more enemies, at least not in the near vicinity. They had a brief, but valuable chance, to flee the scene.
'Go,' he said. 'Thank you for your help. But you promised to save Genji. Don't wait for me.'
'Come with us!' Mercy snapped back. 'If for no other reason than we'll probably need you to get out of here again.'
She didn't wait for an answer. She spread her wings and flew up to the top of the wall, where she had last seen Tracer and Reaper. Both were now down on the other side, having dispatched with two enemies and spent a few moments securing the area. She looked behind her, wondering what Junkrat would do next, if he would try and climb up after or if he would simply…
Junkrat threw an explosive on the ground. Not a normal explosive, but one with a hard covering that Mercy did not understand, until he stepped onto it – peg leg first – and detonated. The blast was absorbed by the covering of the explosive, and the explosive pressure threw him up into the air. He landed a moment later beside Mercy at the top of the wall. The tips of his hair were singed with fire.
He grinned. 'Miss me?'
They climbed down together and started running across a wide, open space, which Mercy identified as a landing strip. They were on an airfield of some kind. To their left were three fighter jets, to their right a dozen hangars the size of mega shopping complexes.
Reaper led the way now, for no reason that Mercy could tell. Tracer seemed to defer to his judgement; at least until she saw a sign through the darkness.
'Over there!' She called. 'That's the jail cells. We should check them before we go wandering around looking for medical centres.'
No one argued. It seemed like a good idea, and it was certainly easier to check there now, while they had a brief respite, rather than doubling back later. Although Mercy doubted they would find Genji in a jail cell – he had been too badly injured, according to Tracer's report.
They entered the building without difficulty, and immediately recognised the voice of the man speaking at the end of the cells. Reaper, in ghost form, teleported to the cell door and blasted it open with his hellfire pistol. None other than the gunslinger himself, McCree, stepped out with a swagger, tipped his hat, and grinned.
'Howdy.' The cowboy said. 'Mind freeing my new partner here?' He looked sideways at a girl in the cell opposite; a girl who looked so young and thin she was almost certainly still in her teens.
Reaper blew the lock open and she stepped out, introducing herself as Hana to all involved.
'I'm Mercy, this is Reaper, Tracer, and…' Mercy looked around. Junkrat had not joined them inside; he was still standing by the door, looking on in shock at the cavalier, smiling face of McCree.
'But… how?' Junkrat asked, face white, dragging himself reluctantly closer to the gathered group.
McCree shrugged. 'Well, it all happened like this…'
He never finished the sentence. Mercy was sure he had never planned to. Instead he used the distraction to swipe Reaper's pistol, raised it, and fired in a single motion. Junkrat was caught full on the chest and fell back, mangled and dead.
There was a considerable pause. Mercy realised her mouth was hanging open. She had not expected that. A few minutes ago, protecting her from the enemy Japanese soldiers, Junkrat had seemed invincible. And now he was…
Dead. Unbelievably, impossibly, certainly dead. In just a few vengeful seconds.
'What have I missed?' Hana asked in confusion.
'Road Hog will kill you for that.' Mercy said.
'I'll kill you if you ever touch my guns again.' Reaper's threatening tones assaulted their minds from all angles and from no angles, booming in all their minds. McCree faced the threat with unblinking, passive expression.
'You'll try.' He replied, coyly.
The tension in the mood, if possible, rose. But before anyone could suggest their next move – whether it was leave, or stay, or try to cover up Junkrat's body – the unmistakable sound of weapons being loaded and safety catches being removed hit their ears.
Mercy looked back to the door. Gathered outside the cell were no less than a dozen Japanese soldiers, all with guns raised. They had the better position, they had all the time in the world, and they looked angry. No wonder. It was fairly likely that they had personally known some of the other guards Junkrat had killed earlier in the evening. This was more than just their duty, it was a chance for revenge.
'Come out with your hands up.' The leader of the guards said. 'Weapons down, hands up. Move slowly. I'm not promising we won't kill you. In fact I'm promising we will. But I'd rather we do all that later, after the Dragon has had a bite of you. General Shimada does not take kindly to intruders.'
The situation had gone from bad to worse.