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November 27, 2073
20:15 GMT
Ashdown Forest, Brighton UK

It was another cold evening at Ashdown Forest when the Fireflies made landfall at Brighton. The moon would not shine that night, thanks to the ever-present heavy rainclouds enshrouding the black sky. Although the wooden heartland of the Weald was dark, it was far from lifeless.

Ashdown was home to all manner of species of animals, some of which were once thought extinct. Come darkness, the air grew thick with the songs of nocturnal birds, chirping insects and roaming predators. People didn't come to that part of the Weald since the Omnic Crisis, and for good reason. After the war, people generally lived closer to cities, abandoning the heath for the wilds to take over.

As beautiful as it could be, Ashdown was more than just a hotbed for the wildlife. It was a hunting ground. And for that night, two squads of Fireflies were out to hunt a wounded predator.

Ember took point and approached the crash site cautiously. Red Queen and Hazard covered the perimeter while Diamondback watched Ember's six. The pair followed the burning trail cut into the ground where the dropship landed, until they chanced upon the dropship itself, nestled snugly on a pile of split saplings and upended rocks. Large caliber rounds left holes the size of a grown man's head in the dropship's hull. The powerful scent of leaking fuel assaulted their nostrils, masking the coppery stench of drying blood.

The dropship door was slightly ajar, and a red stain covered the cockpit window. Carefully, Ember pulled the door open and inspected the ship interior. The pilots were still in their seats, each with a gaping hole in the back of their heads. Whoever it was they were transporting, the Talon agent clearly didn't want to leave the pilots in a recoverable state. No loose ends, the usual Talon MO.

It was Nigeria all over again, but this time Ember wasn't going to let the assassin get away. The director wanted her alive more than he needed her dead, but if she proved too dangerous, Wesley would have to settle for the latter.

"Central, this is Ember." The Firefly commander contacted headquarters, "We've reached the crash site. No sign of the cargo, looks like she went on foot."

"Copy that. We've got a bird on overwatch. Recon-sat has the whole forest locked-down, your shooter's going nowhere."

One of the Firefly gunships hovered overhead, carrying Chameleon's team of infiltrators to the area of operations. Once deployed, the infiltrators would fan out and comb the forest for the assassin. When engaged by enemy fire, Chameleon's team would move in to flush the shooter out. And that's where Ember's team would come in, to back the shooter into a corner until Hazard was close enough to incapacitate her with the arc-thrower cannon.

The gunship returned to the sky and circled around the forest perimeter, guided by the Initiative's recon satellite to effectively watch for the assassin's movements.

So far, the search turned up next to nil. Ember's team followed Chameleon and the infiltrators in, gradually gaining ground and covering a huge part of the forest before coming across a trail of blood leading into a thick cluster of trees in the middle of the Weald. Knowing that this part of the woods was sniper-friendly territory, Chameleon advised Ember to hold his team back while he and the other infiltrators cloaked themselves.

"She'll see you coming." He said before disappearing, "We'll move in and funnel, work our way around her."

"Be careful out there." Ember warned, "If the intel's right, she may have already planned an ambush of her own."

"Relax, I'm a professional."

Quietly, the infiltrators advanced into the Weald. Six Fireflies, equipped with mimetic stealth-suits and thermal vision goggles, slowly weaved through the dense underbrush. Chameleon took point, leading his team deeper into the dark woods.

Minutes later into the search, one of the infiltrators thought he saw movement from within a cluster of reeds. The cluster led to the edge of a pond, which played host to a swirling cloud of blinking little fireflies. He broke radio silence to alert the team, "Got movement, checking it out." Slowly, he approached the reeds, only to find to his disappointment that it was nothing more than a fox chasing down a field mouse.

With grim fascination, the Firefly watched the animal break the smaller creature's neck with a powerful twist of its jaws. The fox's delicate ears twitched as it sensed the presence of something big looming over it, but felt confused when it saw nothing but empty air. Not wishing to remain exposed with its food hanging by its mouth, the fox trotted off into the night to take its dinner somewhere private.

"What is it?" Chameleon radioed back.

"Nothing, it was nothing. Just a fox stirring up the fucking grass."

He returned to his search, unknowingly tripping over the Widowmaker's web. His foot brushed against a mine hidden well into the thick grass coating the roots of a large Scots pine tree. The trap detonated, unleashing a poisonous miasma of purple that overwhelmed the Firefly and sent him doubling over. The poison ate through the mask of his helmet and slipped through his skin like vapor, flooding his circulatory system with an unknown fast-acting neurotoxin. The man gasped like a fish out of water and collapsed in a heap.

He was dead within seconds.

A spider, like any predator, was at its most dangerous state when wounded. The Widowmaker balanced herself upon a tree branch, willing herself to remain perfectly still to pull off a good and steady shot. The little torch-bugs were fluttering right into her trap, and instead of flushing her out they inadvertently gave away their positions once the first body dropped.

Amélie licked her lips and pulled the trigger, dropping another Firefly with a well placed shot to the head. She could see them even with their fancy stealth-suits. Talon's technology was superior in many ways, one of which was to outpace the enemy's ability to cloak themselves in combat. Stealth was useless in the face of a sniper that could see you clear as day.

Laser-fire streaked past her perch as the other Fireflies attempted to suppress her. Quickly, the Widowmaker relocated by shooting her grappling hook and zipping across the woods to another perch. A sharp pain flaring up from her arm and chest caused Amélie to wince and mutter a curse. Her hook-arm hurt, so did her chest. She'd been wounded in the crash. Pieces of the ship cut three gashes into her left shoulder, while the impact itself broke three ribs in her right side.

She'll live for the moment, but if she planned to make it out of the forest alive, she would have to ignore the pain and focus on the battle.

Communications with Talon HQ were down, the annoying voice in her head was silent for the first time since the crash. For once, Amélie was alone in the field. Free to kill as she pleased, but also vulnerable to an overwhelming force that was closing in like a noose around her neck. She traded shots with the Fireflies for a few minutes before falling back. She knew she was quickly running out of places to hide. The gunship circling overhead blocked her exits, forcing her to retreat into the woods and clash some more with the Firefly ground team.

Plus, the pain was acting up at the most inopportune moments, hindering her movements as well as weakening her defensive posture.

Eventually, she stopped swinging from tree to tree. A stray shot from one of the Fireflies cut her rifle in half, at last removing the widow's fangs. Down she went, on the ground same as everyone else, slowly backing herself into a corner until it felt like the whole world had shrunk down to her, a handful of trees and some very angry men. How many had she killed that night, not counting the ones in King's Row? About four Fireflies, three from her rifle and one to her venom mines. As good as any number, she thought.

Suddenly, the night turned all quiet again. The incessant noise of the hovering gunship's engines sounded so far away, Amélie thought that the Fireflies had given up.

She hid herself again in the boughs of a nearby oak tree, ignoring the bloody trail she left as her wounds started to spill out a trickle down her arm. There, she waited for her enemies to come get her. The Widowmaker pulled on the grappling hook and stared at the shiny cable. The device would yet serve purpose, should the Fireflies dare to come fight her face to face.

One of them boldly pushed through the woods, followed by another, and another and another. Six more Fireflies, too many for her to handle without her rifle. Amélie cursed her luck. She was going to die there that night, she thought. Defying the odds, the Widowmaker decided that running had never been an option after all, and chose to fight it out for as long as she could.

She waited until the MEC-Trooper passed the tree first, then jumped the man behind her.

Lithely, she set herself on his shoulders and wrapped her long legs around his neck. When he raised his weapon, Amélie kicked it out of his hands and set her cable over his throat like a garrote wire. The man gagged and quickly slipped his fingers beneath the cable to keep it from cutting into his neck.

"Lumières éteintes, petite luciole." Amélie whispered, her eyes alight with wicked glee. "Lights out, little firefly."

They danced and spun around a bit like a top, with the Widowmaker clinging firmly to her victim's neck and him struggling to throw her off of his shoulders.

"Ember, don't move!" She heard the MEC-Trooper shout. Glancing up, she watched as the MEC's cannon charged up an EM pulse aimed right for her.

Suddenly, she found herself falling forward as the man finally caught her by the arm and flung her into the ground. When she tried to get up, Ember's fist slammed into her abdomen. The air was violently knocked out of her chest, Amélie curled up instinctively as she hacked and coughed up blood. But the Firefly wasn't done with her yet.

He put his knee over her neck and called out to his friends to help, "Come on, get her cuffed!"

Soon, Amélie found herself at the Fireflies' mercy. She was hauled to her feet, half-dazed with blood-loss and fatigue. They dragged her out of the woods to be transported back to base. Even then, the Widowmaker had enough fight in her to get the last word.

"Essayons encore une fois?" She giggled, "Shall we try that again?"

The Firefly commander's reply was simple. He grabbed her by the front of her suit and slammed his head into hers, effectively knocking her out in one blow.

November 28, 2073
6:16 GMT
10 Hours Later
Firefly HQ
Lyon, France

Wesley stopped by the hangar on his way to the Research labs. The Fireflies have transferred their captive from the transporter's hold to the laboratory containment facility, which would serve as the Widowmaker's holding cell for the remainder of her stay at Lyons HQ. A team led by Dr. Dufour have begun their preliminary scans of the Talon agent's biometrics, in hopes of determining her identity and providing a better understanding of her affiliation with the organization itself. For security reasons, the Widowmaker was kept heavily sedated during the procedure.

The four casualties of the Ashdown operation were carried out of the transporter in body-bags, and placed respectfully on the hangar floor. The wounded were sent to the infirmary to get their injuries patched up, while the rest were sent to the briefing room for post-mission debriefing and evaluation.

The director frowned, clearly disappointed with the cost of capturing the Talon agent. He turned to the Firefly commanders, hoping to commend them on succeeding in spite of their losses. "Great work out there, Fireflies... Ember, shouldn't you get that cut looked at?"

Although he suffered from a nasty abrasion from the Widowmaker's cable rubbing against his throat, Ember refused to have his injuries taken care of, trusting in his increased cellular metabolism to mend the damage. "No sir."

"I do hope she's worth the trouble." Chameleon said, feeling sad for losing four promising operatives so soon after they've emerged from a mission prior to the Ashdown operation unscathed.

"Why don't you head back to the barracks and get some rest?" Wesley suggested, "You look like you need it."

"With respect, director." Chameleon confessed, "What I need is a drink."

He headed down to the barracks, leaving Wesley with Ember. The director dismissed him as he was needed back in his office. The shadow council was requesting an update on their Talon prisoner, and while it was too early to report anything of note, a little heads-up could go a long way. Left with little else to do than wait, Ember spent the rest of the day keeping an eye on Dr. Dufour's progress.

Within a few hours, the biometrics scan revealed a surprising result, one that tied directly to both Overwatch and the past Ember tried so hard to bury.

The Widowmaker, responsible for the assassination of Tekhartha Mondatta and the deaths of five Firefly agents, was none other than Amélie Lacroix. Ember only met her once, a long time ago when he and his dearly departed twin brother were still on speaking terms. He wasn't even sure if they were the same person. Everyone thought she was dead, and now she's come back, altered extensively by Talon's sinister machines.

Intrigued, Ember listened close as Dr. Dufour examined the implants added to modify her body's physiology. There were several found along the length of her spine, specifically engineered to help slow her heartrate and improve her reflexes similar to Ember's reflex coordinator implant. There were others implanted on the surface of her skull, designed to interact with the infrared visor she was wearing when they brought her in. But what Dr. Dufour found most interesting was the final implant surgically attached to the brain itself.

It was nanotech, her nanotech specifically. But it wasn't her design. Somehow, Talon was able to reverse engineer her designs during her imprisonment with that group in Belarus, and were able to implement it. The implant worked seamlessly with all the other lesser implants, forming a sort of web network that allowed the Widowmaker to operate flawlessly in any given situation. It also was responsible for tapping into amygdala, overriding the natural process of emotions, as well as the temporal lobe, thereby suppressing targeted memories.

Talon was able to create one of the most potent weapons known to man, and all it took was to suppress a frightened woman's memories in order to transform her into the perfect killing machine. As much as the thought disgusted Ember, he couldn't help but feel fascinated for the meticulous work put into his brother's wife. Evil, yes, but impressive nonetheless.

While the research team prepared to document their findings and report back to the director, Dr. Dufour approached Ember with a suggestion in mind. She took him aside and led him to a workbench where the Widowmaker's equipment was laid out for later examinations. "Monsieur Lacroix, I understand this might be a... sensitive issue for you, but I want you to know that I plan on requesting the director's approval to operate on the agent and remove her implants."

"Sensitive?" Ember's brows furrowed, "I don't follow."

"Oh, I assumed you knew her personally. You were not close with your brother's wife?"

"No. I wasn't close with Gérard, and by extension I wasn't close with her. So go ahead, cut her up. It wouldn't bother me at all."

Dr. Dufour's eyes widened, astonished by the Firefly commander's callous remark. "I see. Well, I hope what I'm planning to do afterwards wouldn't be much of a problem for you, either."

"Why? What are you up to, doctor?"

"Well, if my hypothesis is correct, once the memory dampener has been lifted... the suppressed personality should resurface, allowing us to gain access to the agent's previously inaccessible data. She will require a familiar face, if the option of rehabilitation should present itself. Do you see where I'm going with this?"

Ember nodded slowly. He wasn't looking forward to it, but if it would help the Initiative in its war against Talon. He wasn't opposed to exploring every possible option. "Whatever you need, doctor. You know where to find me."

Dufour smiled, grateful for his cooperation. "There's one more thing. I cannot help but be curious... how did you two meet, if you met at all?"

Ember thought back to the memory of when he first saw Amélie Lacroix. Back then, she was still calling herself Amélie Guillard. She and Gérard were still dating, but she already settled in with the wife-act of never being too far away from him. Adorable little love-birds. "It was a gala, an exclusive black-tie event. You know, the kind that the UN likes to throw to meet new faces and make new friends?"

"Yes, and? What happened?"

"I was with the Legion before I joined the Initiative. The Capitaine and I were invited by the secretary-general. Amélie was late to the party, Gérard had to start without her. He had prepared a good speech that night, you see. He didn't want to look bad. She mistook me for him when she entered the gate." A smile formed over Ember's lips as he remembered Amélie slipping her arm around his and whispering an apology in his ear, promising to make up for her being late once they got home. He remembered finding her voice lovely, like a soft caress to one's ears.

If he inherited anything from the Lacroix family, Gérard certainly had a good taste in women. "Heh, the redness on her cheeks when I turned to face her. 'Bonsoir, mademoiselle.' I said to her. 'I'll be sure to take you up on your offer.'"

"Oh, you horrible thing." Dufour shook her head, barely restraining an amused smirk.

Ember shrugged, "I guess she got me back for that. Nearly cut my throat last night with a grappling hook cable."

"Did you speak with her afterwards?"

"No. That was the last time I saw her, and the last time I saw my brother."

"You didn't... come to the wedding?"

"No."

Dr. Dufour wondered why Ember remained tight-lipped about that particular part of his past, but thought it wise to drop the subject before she blurted out the wrong question. "Well, that's all for now. I will notify you when we require your assistance."

Ember nodded once, then quickly left the lab. His fellow Fireflies were holding a brief ceremony at the barracks, to remember the fallen and drink to the dead. This time, he joined them and honored the Fireflies whose lights would burn no more.

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