Engineer whistled to himself, his fingers automatically dialing the numbers on the phone.
The phone barely rang once before it was picked up.
"Hello?" Sam's voice came over the wire.
"Sam, hope I ain't catchin' ya at a bad time."
"Not at all, just surprised. It's a bit early for ya, ain't it?"
"Not really," he shrugged leaning against the phone. "They don' feed us for another half hour," if you could actually call it food. He omitted this part, if word got out about the rations here to any lady folk in the family he'd be up to his ears in care packages and concerned phone calls. "Just thought I'd call and see how things were goin'."
"The usual. Had a real frog strangler last week, thought the roads were gonna wash out. Things are just now startin' to dry out, hopefully we can get plantin' before it rains again. "
"Yah get that tractor fixed?"
"Yea - had to take it up to county line and pay an arm fer it. Sure miss having a certified handyman around the place."
The Texan chuckled, "Ya couldn' afford me. So what was wrong with it?"
"Clutch was out and slipping, like yah thought."
"Figured, it was getting pretty old."
"Not much else goin' on here, unless you want me to get Mary and ask what the ladies are gossipin' 'bout these days."
"I'll pass, thanks."
"So how are things in New Mexico? Stayin' out of trouble?"
"Pretty quiet here." None of his family, Sam or even Evie knew the extent of what he was out in the desert for. Just a 'contract job working on security systems'. The contract he had signed forbade him from saying anything else even if he had wanted to. "Nothing new, just the usual."
"Mmhmm," the murmur on the other end of the phone sounded expectant. "So what's her name?" Sam's question stopped him cold.
"What?" he asked, feeling his ears heat up.
"Yah called at a decent time, and sound less miserable than usual. In fact ya almost sound…. ah dare to say it… happy."
"Ah don' know what yer gettin' at." he answered, probably a bit too quickly. Too defensively. This was another thing he couldn't talk to Sam about. Or anyone for that matter. Though for reasons other than being contractually obligated to keep his mouth shut.
"Yah always were a rotten liar Cuz."
"Can't I jus' be in a good mood?" He asked hopefully.
"Yah can. But in this case… ah don' think so."
Engineer's gaze sank to the floor, his mouth going dry as he fumbled for words. But he didn't have any. There was nothing he could say, even if he knew what to call what was going on between him and Spy.
"There's no one." The sound of footsteps approaching made him glance down the hall. "Nobody." He insisted as Medic came around the corner down the hall.
"Mm-hmm," Sam knew him too well to be fooled. Medic continued down the hall but then paused behind him. He got the uneasy feeling the man was listening. It wouldn't surprise him.
"Ah gotta go. Someone else needs the phone." he blurted.
"Bu-"
"-Talk to you later!" He cut Sam off. Hanging up the phone. He turned on his heel and found himself face to face with the doctor.
"Guten abend," Medic greeted him with a smile that reminded Engineer of a shark.
"Phones' all yers!" He sidled away from the phone.
"How are you today?" The man asked in a sugary voice. It was the sort of sugar that gingerbread houses were trimmed with.
"Fine- fine - just gonna go get some dinner." He gestured vaguely towards the mess hall.
"Good - good! Do not forget you have a check up tomorrow."
Was it that time of year already? Engineer wasn't going to try to argue with the man, he didn't have a chance of winning. "I'll… keep tha' in mind." The cowboy mumbled as he made his exit to the mess hall.
Dinner had been served BLU base and Spy was seated by himself, as usual, though he rarely minded or cared. The canned meat and peas remained mostly untouched on his plate. As usual he made his dinner of coffee and cigarettes while he read his French newspaper. At least he appeared to be reading the paper, he had started reading an article about student protests in the capital but his mind wandered to other subjects…
The weekend was two days away and he had arranged to meet Engineer for dinner. Somewhere that served food that didn't come out of a can or a box. Dinner and more... the corners of his mouth quirked up.
He'd have the cowboy to himself for two whole days. Meeting on base or during skirmishes was alluringly reckless, but the Texan was so nervous of being discovered that the encounters were usually kept short and less intimate than he preferred.
The weekends they met off base were when he got to see the what his cowboy was capable of. At first the man had been cautious. Nervous. Understandably so, considering the circumstances. But he was quickly adapting, getting bolder. Spy's smile widened as he mused over what the cowboy would be like with more time and practice.
He reached for his coffee mug, took a sip and sputtered. There had been something in his coffee. Something small and round. A capsule? A pill?
He spit the foreign object onto his plate with a grimace. It was a sickly shade of green and looked exactly like a canned pea. Glancing at his mug, he noticed a few others bobbing on the surface. Why were there peas in his coffee?
Why, for that matter, were there peas all over the table? He lowered his newspaper and saw the sickly green missiles all around him. Around his coffee mug, around his forgotten dinner plate. Wordlessly he looked across the table to see his teammates watching. Down the table was Scout with a spoon in hand, aimed like a catapult. Was the pre pubescent idiot… throwing peas at him?
"Took him long enough," the one eyed scotsman grunted.
"You owe me a fiver." Sniper chuckled.
"You were flinging peas at me!?" Spy sputtered.
"Wondered when you were gonna notice." Scout said, lobbing another of the pathetic looking vegetables at him. The pea sailed over the table and impacted on Spy's lapel, leaving a faint greasy mark as it bounced off. He was going to have to send this suit to be dry cleaned.
"You can not still be mad at me!" the Frenchman exclaimed. "That whole mess was ages ago." The rest of the table remained quiet, he would have no allies here tonight, they were just hanging around for the show.
"What, a few weeks and I'm supposed tah forget you passed around pictures of my-"
"-I hardly passed them around, besides it's hardly my fault, your mother-" Spy insisted.
"-YOU DO NOT GET TAH TALK ABOUT MY MOTHER." The spoon dropped, clattering on the table as Scout leaped to his feet. He almost certainly would have jumped onto the table to attack if the other mercenaries hadn't stopped him.
"NEIN! Not on ze table!" the doctor hissed. "We are still eating!"
"'Ey! Watchit boy!"
"NO FIGHTING IN THE MESS HALL."
"I'MMA KILL'IM."
"Easy now, lad!"
"SIMMER DOWN SON."
With the idiot contained Spy decided to make his exit. Grumbling under his breath Spy stood from his chair, shook the peas from his newspaper. "Gentlemen," he nodded before making his exit.
The morning bell had rung marking the beginning of the work day. Calling it a battle was laughable, the word altercation sounded too civilized. It was a skirmish, a brawl. Regular as clockwork and just as predictable. Usually.
The BLU team came out in a rush to get to their positions to start the push to the enemy's base. Spy leisurely strolled after them, he had no rush, to place he was expected to be. He worked on his own time. He reached the head of the stairs when Scout, came running and slammed into him. The idiot barely stopped to watch the Frenchman get knocked off his feet and tumble down the stairs to land with a rather sickening crunch at the base of them.
"Shoulda looked where ya goin' dumbass!" he heard Scout taunt as he faded from consciousness.
The day wore on and Spy was starting to think he should have stayed in Respawn. While attempting to mimic the RED team's Medic and stab Heavy, clearing him out of BLU's path, the real Medic appeared and he found himself grabbed by his neck and tossed like a rag doll into a wall.
He had managed to headshot the drunk Scotsman successfully… and quickly found himself on the wrong end of the Abomination's flame thrower. He had run as fast as he could down the corridors of the base but was lit aflame for his troubles.
Spy puffed on his cigarette as he emerged from Respawn, it was not even lunch time and he had already been killed a dozen times. Or at least it seemed like a dozen. Bludgeoned to a pulp, shoved down the stairs, incinerated, stabbed, shot, and blown up. This was proving not to be one of his better days.
Leaning on the doorpost he thought over the situation, BLU was making a valiant attempt and RED's lines might break soon. But today's struggle was not going to be won or impacted by anything he did today, that much was certain. He'd go visit his cowboy. He had been intending to do that later in the day but it would be smarter to stay out of the way rather than attempt any heroics. He doubted anyone on BLU would notice he wasn't around.
Traveling through a skirmish wasn't that much easier than trying to fight in it. Invisibly, he crept through BLU base side stepping his teammate as they charged headlong into the conflict. Scout sped by him and he took some minor joy in tripping him with an invisible foot and watching the boy tumble and land flat on his face. While it was hardly a fatal fall it did make him feel a bit better as he ducked into a corridor where the boy wouldn't see him.
With his petty revenge for the day handled Spy slunk down the hall. Slipping out of a side door, he found patch of land that wasn't currently being fought over and picked his way among the wreckage and shrapnel to the RED base. He had almost made it across No Man's Land when he heard the whistle of a rocket launcher and a not so distant yell. He ducked behind a large blasted out crate just in time for the rocket to explode overhead showering the area with bits of shell casing. After a quick glance to check his cloak he scrambled out from behind cover, kicking aside a few bits of wreckage. It seemed battle was going to reclaim his entrance sooner than he wanted.
He was barely out from behind cover when a bullet whizzed past his head grazing his ear. Diving back behind cover he clutched a hand to his injury as he flickered into view his ears ringing. Another bullet shot through the crate, this time missing him by a few inches. It seemed the RED Sniper had noticed his approach. He squinted at this watch, the cloak power was charging up, but slowly. A disguise wouldn't help in this situation. He was pinned here, until the bushman either shot him or got distracted. At least for the moment the Australian seemed to be saving his ammunition for a clear shot.
His cloak was almost charged and his hearing returned when he heard an explosion coming from his own base. Peering around he saw his team's Doctor and maniac pursuing the RED team's own Demo and Scout, bullets and grenades flying all directions. Screams erupted as the maniac managed to set the REDs alight, their flaming figures rushing towards their base. Using the commotion as cover he bolted from his hiding place.
"Heads Up!" he heard a voice call out as the RED Scout got close to passing him, then there was the sound of shattering glass and the acrid smell of urine as the battlers were drenched in piss. The Medic swore in a voice that would make most men blanch and fell into the fray, his bonesaw in hand. Scrambling from the mess of blood and filth, Spy made his way to the entrance before anyone could notice him.
Once inside, the RED base was quiet, from the looks of things the battle had been here but been beaten back. He winced as the adrenaline in his system cleared reminding him that now he was safe and should probably see to his minor scrapes and the shot to his ear. Shell casings and the smell of gunpowder marked the halls but the sounds of fighting and explosions got quieter as he made his way deeper into the base to the intelligence room. Hearing footsteps, he ducked in a closet, and the Scotsman presumably fresh from Respawn, ran by to get back to the brawl.
He climbed down the stairs to the office, passing his own team's Soldier and the bloody smear that he had left behind. Spy smiled recognizing the handiwork, his cowboy seemed to be in fine form today. Before he got to the foot of the stairs he pulled his disguise kit out of his jacket pocket. It wouldn't do to get shot down by Engineer's toys now that he had finally made his way over here, and arriving invisible was rude. With an eager smirk he selected his disguise and strolled to the office door.
The sentry beeped at him but held its fire as he opened the door. Engineer, wrench in hand glanced up from the dispenser he had been tinkering with. His eyes were unreadable through his goggles but his sigh when he saw Spy enter the room was clear enough.
"Yah think yer funny, but you really aren't," the man grumbled.
"What's wrong pard'ner, aren't you happy to see a familiar face?" he asked as he approached the man and his machine on the far side of the room.
"It's damn strange having a conversation with yerself." The man frowned and sniffed the air "And what did yo-" he froze noticing Spy hissing in pain.
"Yah okay there Spook?" the real Engineer asked as he watched the copy of himself lean on the dispenser to heal his scrapes and bruises. "Yah get banged up on yer way over here?"
"It IS a battlefield, Monsieur." he chuckled. "I'm fine, just superficial." He put a hand to his ear, through the illusion he could feel his mask was sodden with blood but the wound was healed. He had made it here, he was in one piece, and the Texan was within arm's reach. Smiling, he leaned closer until his face was inches away from the cowboy. He leaned closer to give the man a kiss. Engineer gave him a brief peck on the lips before shoving him gently away.
"Sorry darlin'," the man shook his head "I appreciate the sentiment, but… you stink."
"What? I crossed a battlefield to see you!"
"Ah know. And you smell like it."
"It's yer Sniper's fault!"
"Ah know Slim-"
"You want me to leave? After all this trouble?"
"Can ah point out this is a really strange argument to have while… looking at myself?"
Spy sighed and activated his watch fading from view. "That better?"
"... Not really… ah can still smell ya."
Spy sighed loudly and was about to protest when the door swung open and the RED team's Medic limped in covered in blood. Spy quickly stepped around the dispenser so the man wouldn't bump into him. "Guten tag" he said with a manic grin as he started reloading his syringe gun.
"Uh… Hey Doc." the cowboy greeted the man nervously. "Rough out there?"
"It's a bloodbath!" the man laughed gleefully. "I just came down here for some more ammunition."
"And to git patched up?"
"What?" the doctor looked down at his uniform and laughed again, "No, no, this blood isn't mine!"
Spy stood stiffly in mute silence watching the madman load his gun and put spare clips in his pockets. The faint idea of revenge began to grow in the Frenchman's mind. He could stab the man right here, but he suspected the cowboy would not appreciate it. Plus it might make things suspicious for him later. To his horror the doctor sniffed the air. "Are we having a plumbing problem?"
"A-a plumbing problem?" Engineer asked in what had to be the worst innocent tone Spy had ever heard.
"I'm smelling… urine?" the German man wrinkled his nose in distaste.
"Oh! No!" the Texan laughed nervously. "Th-That's Slim. He… uh… came through here."
The man tsked, shaking his head "So filthy." he muttered.
Killing the man inside the office would be suspicious, but the Engineer could hardly complain if he did it after the man left. His pet behemoth was surely somewhere close by and with the man safely in Respawn his ruse had better odds.
But it would be rude to leave the cowboy without saying goodbye. But he couldn't speak while the German was still around. Couldn't bring attention to himself. He glanced at the cowboy who was nervously watching the doctor's every move.
Medic turned to leave "I vill see you later Engineer! Remember, we have an appointment when the killings are done!"
An impulse formed in his mind. He wouldn't likely get this opportunity often. He stepped closer to the cowboy, and gave the man's ass a hearty firm slap with the flat of his palm.
The cowboy yelped in surprise, Medic turned, "A-ah mean. Yea!" the man forced a smile, "Ah won' forget." The German gave him an odd look but didn't say anything else as he strolled out of the intelligence room. Spy slipped through the door after him, pulling his knife out. If he could get the doctor and Heavy today might actually be salvageable.
The skirmish had ended for the day and Engineer was packing away his gear more carefully than usual. Slowly. Meticulous. But even taking his time and walking as slowly as possible he hadn't managed to burn enough minutes between now and dinnertime to avoid this.
The Texan trudged up the hall from the barracks hoping that something had come up and Medic would be elsewhere. Maybe one of his birds was ill or someone had managed to crack their skull open off the battlefield. He could never be that lucky. He hesitantly knocked on the door of the infirmary.
The door swung open with the snap a bear trap."Willkommen! Come in!" Medic grin was manic as he stood in the doorway.
Engineer froze in the hall, "Y-ya sure Doc?" he stammered. "Ah don' wanna take up yer time. You probl'y got lots of other things to do…"
"There's nothing to be squeamish about, Herr Engineer." Medic herded him towards the door, in what was probably supposed to be a soothing tone that instead set his teeth on edge. "Just routine examinations."
"Undress and get on ze scale" Medic requested, flipping through paperwork on his clipboard. Daring not to make the man annoyed Engineer reluctantly pulled off his boots and slipped out of his coveralls and shirt, leaving his undershirt and briefs on as long as he would be allowed. He padded in his stocking feet to the scale, stepped on and looked away as Medic noisily slid the weights around until he was satisfied.
"Hmmhmm." the doctor intoned to himself as he scribbled on his clipboard. Whatever that meant the man neglected to share.
Then the Texan's height was measured, "165," Medic said to himself as he recorded it. Neither time nor Respawn it seemed had granted him any additional height. At his age he had stopped hoping.
"Get up on the table." The German directed. He reluctantly climbed onto the metal table, that looked far too much like an operating table for his taste. It felt like he was sitting on a block of ice and he cringed as the cold seeped through his thin underwear into his skin. "Relax," Medic patted him roughly on the shoulder "this is all for the Respawn system, ja?"
A tongue depressor was jammed unceremoniously into his mouth. He gagged, the depressor grating his throat while the doctor muttered to himself in German too soft for him to try to translate. "Minding your teeth?" the man asked shoving a thermometer in his mouth before he could answer. "Now, keep mouth shut," Medic hissed then patted him on the cheek.
Humming, the man tilted the Texan's head this way and that, tugging at his ears to peer into them. The thermometer was removed and Medic tilted the Texan's head to its original angle. Glancing at it he nodded and tossed it aside before writing on his clipboard.
"Take your shirt off." came the next command. Suppressing a sigh of resignation the Texas stripped that off. The icy cold stethoscope listened while the German's cold hands probed and prodded. "No bruising, no new scarring" the man observed in a dismissive way that made him feel like a piece of produce .
Medic straightened, picked up his clipboard and began scribbling notes. "Any new habits? Drinking more than usual?"
"No Doc,"
"Smoking?"
"-No," he said quickly.
"Hmmm, I see," more notes were jotted on the clipboard. "Stehen," the man barked. "Remove your underclothes."
The moment he'd been dreading had finally arrived. Slowly, Engineer slid off the table to the floor. He stood there desperate to postpone the inevitable. "Undress, Bitte" Medic barked, his order punctuated by the loud snapping of a rubber glove.
He slid his briefs off and with it his last shred of dignity fell to the floor. Glancing out of the corner of his eye, he watched as the alleged doctor applied a gel to the gloved hand. "Face forward."
He felt a cold hand settle on bare skin and cringed, fingers prodding him, places he would rather not think about at this moment. "Turn your head and cough."
Sighing, he turned his head to face the skeleton in the corner of the room and tried to think about anything but where he was. England, Texas, the inside of a nuclear reactor.
"Are you schtupping anyone?"
"P-pardon?" he choked, he could not have heard that right.
"Unclench bitte, now bend over," he felt the sadist's other hand on his shoulder pushing him into the requested position.
"Yah didn't ask that last year!" he hissed.
"Things change, Herr Engineer." The Texan grunted with relief as he felt Medic's hand, both of them, pull back. "You weren't divorced." the man reminded him cheerily.
"What's it matter?" he asked, defensively reaching for his clothes.
"Nein, not yet." Medic told him walking around to face him. "I am not done with the examination."
He shrank away as the doctor's, still cold hands examined his more personal parts. "It's for your own safety" the man explained though Engineer was having a hard time thinking of safety when his gadget was being handled by a German sadist. "If you aren't careful anything could happen." Medic added in a tone that somehow managed to be both educational and threatening.
"... And if I was?" he hazarded an answer. He swore he saw a grin flash across Medic's face as he stepped back to throw his gloves into a waste bin.
"As your doctor, I'd need more information."
"... What?" he asked warily. He should have kept his mouth shut. Why hadn't he…
Medic had retrieved his clipboard and was scribbling furiously away, "How many people do you sleep with? How frequently? What activities? How-"
The Texan found himself backing into the metal table, his face, and the rest of him turning as red as the uniform he wasn't wearing. "-Whoa, whoa, hey now!" he interjected desperately.
"Ja?" Medic looked at him quizzingly.
"Ah'm not…" he trailed off.
"Anything you say is confidential! Secret!" the doctor assured him.
"Ah'll keep that in mind… if ah need ta know anythin'" or if he suddenly lost his damn mind.
"But-"
"-Ah was in th' Scouts, been through the corps, ah know the drill." he insisted. His eyes darting from his clothes on the floor to the door. Trying to figure out an escape.
"Do y-"Medic was cut off by a pounding on the door.
"Doctor!" Demo's voice yelled from the hall "Dinner's ready!"
Relieved the Texan took this as his cue to leave, "Well ah don' wanna keep you from dinner," he said with a half hysterical chuckle. He scooped his clothing off the floor and started pulling them on.
The doctor frowned, acknowledging defeat. "Very well, Herr Engineer. It has been a long day." The man walked to his desk, dropped his clipboard among the pile of papers and opened the bottom desk drawer.
Engineer had just fastened his coveralls and was stepping into his boots ready to bolt for the door when Medic spoke, "Before you go, I have something for you."
"More paperwork?" he asked warily. It seemed every time someone sneezed RED had changed policies and issuing more forms to fill out and sign.
"Nein, something you'll probably find more useful." The older man replied with an unsettling gleam in his eye.
"Ah should probably just head out-" he said opening the door. He was cut off by Medic shoving a paper bag into his hands. Unthinkingly he opened it and peered inside. Inside were condoms and he squinted to make out the packaging on the tubes. Some sort of medical substance- a gel? A lubricant? He felt his ears burn as he shut the bag again.
"What is it your boy scouts say? Be prepared?" Medic asked brushing past him and out into the hall.
The weekend had finally come. It had seemed like it never would. "Ya going out?" Scout asked, trotting at his heels like a hopeful pup.
"…Yea." he answered warily, "Gotta pick up some parts, order came in but they won't ship here." It had taken a lot of searching through catalogs, and many phone calls but he managed to find someplace that had the parts for a beaten up Italian scooter. But that was as far as the miracle extended, the parts were at a shop half a day's drive away waiting for him to pay for them and pick them up.
"Can I tag along? I-"
"-No." he cut the kid off before he could get any further into an explanation.
"Come on!"
"Nope."
"You won't even know I'm there!"
"That I highly doubt."
"I just want a ride to the movies!"
"Why don'cha go with Soldier or Demo? They're usually up to do something on the weekend."
"This… isn't their kinda movie."
Ah, so it was like that then. "I'm sure it ain't nothing they haven't seen before." he said with a sigh.
"It ain't like that!" Scout objected loudly.
"Yah ain't the first one to go to a dirty picture."
"It ain't a dirty picture."
"Mmhmm."
"I just wanted to see Atomic Jones!" The kid protested.
"Wait…" a vague memory flickered in his mind, he recalled seeing something about that in the paper. "That Tom Jones thing with the singing and the danc-"
"-Shh!" Scout cut him off desperately, his hands up in defense, eyes darting around as if checking for eavesdroppers.
"Never took ya for a fan of musicals." The Texan mused quietly.
"Don' tell anyone alright!"
"Okay - okay - calm down son. I ain't gonna tell anyone." Far be it for him to go spreading other people's secrets around. Especially when he himself was sitting on one far worse than questionable taste in films he'd rather not have anyone know.
"I jus need a ride to tha theater - you could drop me off on yer way to do whatever and pick me up up on yer way back tonight."
Engineer froze in his tracks. Tonight he had agreed to meet Spy for dinner. He hadn't intended to come back on base until sometime tomorrow afternoon. "Nah, I can't."
"Come on!"
The Texan frowned, trying to carefully choose his words. "It's a long drive…"
"I don' mind waitin' around a bit," the kid insisted. "I'd owe you a favor!" He added trying to sweeten the deal.
Engineer frowned "It's a long drive - Ah wasn' plannin' on headin' back tonight."
"So what- you're gonna drive out there and stay out the whole night? Why would ya-" Scout froze as his brain for once decided to work faster than his mouth. A look of realization slowly crossed the young man's face. "Oh ho!" He slapped a hand over his mouth to stifle a shocked laugh. "Ya sly dog!"
"What?" The cowboy asked flatly dreading the answer he was likely to get.
"Ya gotta date!" Scout laughed.
"No ah don'!" He protested, "Ah'm just goin' to pick up some parts." And then meet Spy for dinner. And probably go somewhere else… quieter after that. "Nothin' else." He murmured woodenly.
"Good for you! Didn't think ya had it in ya!" Scout chuckled slapping him on the shoulder.
"Ah'm just getting some replacement parts." He repeated through grit teeth though Scout wasn't going to be dissuaded.
"Ya don' need ta lie... It's great a geezer like you is gettin' some action!"
"I'm jus' gettin' some parts!" He insisted again walking on to his truck leaving the idiot behind.
"Sure thing, old man!" Scout yelled back at him before jogging back to the barracks.
"Ah ain't that old." Engineer grumbled to himself as he climbed into the pick up. He turned the engine on and sighed. He hoped, desperately, that something would distract Motormouth before he blabbed to the entire team his theories about his weekend activities. Maybe no one would believe him. Maybe no one would listen to the kid and he'd be left alone. How often did anyone listen to that half-pint anyway?
Spy grinned as he saw the town coming up on the road, a silhouette against the setting sun. He was going to be fashionably late to his dinner engagement but the cowboy probably wouldn't be too annoyed. If he was, he'd find some way to make it up to him.
"We're nearly there, gentlemen." he announced to the the unconscious passengers in the backseat. He had hitched a ride in a convertible with a couple of young cocksure idiots in the guise of a hapless girl. They'd only been too eager to pull over and offer the poor thing a ride.
After a few miles they decided to stop being gentlemen and start getting handsy. Spy decided it was time to stop playing coy and helpless and take over the wheel. The queutards wouldn't suffer any lasting damage, but they'd hopefully learn some manners.
The sun had dipped below the horizon as he drove through the dusty little town. There was not much here to bother with, a church, a grocer, an automotive parts store, a gas station,a few houses and the diner where he was supposed to meet Engineer. With a smirk he pulled the sports car behind the church, it was late enough there was no one around to witness his arrival. Killing the engine he climbed out of the car.
"Merci beaucoup." he tossed the car keys on top of the prone pair in the back. They would wake up with no idea where they were, how they got there, and there would be no sign of the hitchhiker who brought them here.
Spy walked down the street to the small diner. The bell on the door jingled as he walked in. The place was clean but nearly empty. He scanned the room and broke into a smile as he saw the back of the Texan's head, he was sitting in the back corner.
"Bonsoir," he called out approaching the table.
"Was wonderin' if you'd stood me up." Engineer joked
"I had some trouble with my vehicle." he explained as he sat down.
"How are ya' gettin' around while I'm workin' on your scooter?"
"I just borrowed a car."
"Whose?"
"No one you know." he answered with a shrug.
The cowboy frowned but said nothing as the waitress came to the table and took their orders. The woman left but the man remained quiet, gazing out the window.
"Were you able to get the parts you were looking for?" he asked conversationally.
"Hm?" Engineer glanced from the window back to him. "Yea, yea they were just as I ordered." he smiled crookedly "A new set of spark plugs, choke lever, and battery. Ah can finally get crackin' at repairs."
"Marvelous, maybe after dinner we can settle on a down payment?" he asked quirking his brow. He hadn't seen a motel on his way in town but was sure they could figure something out. Before he could pursue the subject the waitress returned with their meal.
The Texan remained silent. Not meeting his eyes, the man just pushed his food around the plate. Was there something wrong with it? Spy took a bite of his own meal, it wasn't amazing but it was palatable.
"It is a relief to get off base." he said quietly. "The idiot child is still holding a grudge against me it seems."
"Oh?" Engineer mumbled, hardly looking up from his plate.
"He was throwing peas at me over dinner a few days ago" he fumed, "Peas!" he repeated and paused to let the ridiculousness sink in.
"Mmhmm." the man seemed hardly horrified. Or even attentive. He was unusually distracted.
"Something is bothering you." Spy observed, his mind going over what could possibly be troubling the man.
"Hm? No- no it's nothin'. Nothin'" the cowboy should stay away from poker, he would reveal his hand in an instant with that face.
He chuckled sadly, "Monsieur, you are a terrible liar."
"Ah suppose ah am…" Engineer sighed glancing out the window. Spy swallowed, his mouth going dry. Was he rethinking their relationship? Was he leaving? Was it over? He hadn't expected this to work out even for the brief time it had.
He took a sip of coffee, "What is it?" he asked softly, dreading the answer.
The Texan gnawed on his lip as he turned from the window, his brow furrowed. "Folks ha' been talkin'"
"Folks?" Spy repeated woodenly.
"The team… Scout, Medic… people."
"What have they been saying?" the Frenchman asked warily, pulling his cigarette case from his jacket.
"They've noticed I've been leaving base."
"I see." he lit his cigarette.
"I dun know wha' Medic knows but he's after somethin'. He…" the man looked flustered "... it was annual check ups this week…" he trailed off. Spy started wondering what the maniac could have done and what he was going to do about it before the Engineer spoke up again. "Asked lotta questions… stuff he usually doesn' ask."
"What did you say?" he asked taking a drag of his cigarette.
"Ah did'n tell him anythin'! Explained to him I could take care'a myself and left." That was probably true. The Texan for all his redeeming qualities had an honest face. Which was the problem. Regardless what he'd said, the Medic had probably read the man as easily as he himself could. "Then he… uh gave me a bag of… uh supplies."
"Sheaths?" he inquired, Americans were so squeamish about these things. Like the English.
"Erm… those too… but… uh…" the man's voice lowered "some lubrication."
Awkward silence descended on the booth while Spy quietly puffed on his cigarette. His dinner growing cold, forgotten as he mulled over the details.
Well, that was very specific, he idly wondered where said offerings were before turning back to the matter at hand. What did the doctor know? What was his game? Blackmail? It could hardly be out of genuine interest in someone's health.
"On toppa' that," the cowboy went on, Spy froze dreading what he was possibly going to hear next. "Scout - the kid's convinced I was goin' out to- goin' out…" the cowboy's fingers tapped nervously on the edge of the table. "Prob'ly told th' whole base by now."
"Is that all he thinks?"
"Yea, suppose, he was tryin' to hitch a ride to the pictures and I wouldn't take 'im. He pushed and came to the idea that I was goin' out."
"I see." That was hardly the end of the world. "That's it?"
"What'd'ya mean is that it?"
"So he knows you are meeting someone, he doesn't know who." the masked man pointed out calmly.
"But he'll tell everyone, what am I supposed to do?"
"People talk," he said with a shrug, "Are you done eating?" gesturing to the half destroyed meal. It had been very industriously picked at but he wasn't certain he'd seen the man put a single bite in his mouth.
"What?"
"This is not the best place for this conversation."
The Texan dug his wallet out of his back pocket, "I'll pay the tab and we can get outta here." He hastily pulled out a few bills and dropped them on the table.
"We'll take your truck." Spy said standing up..
Engineer snorted, "Ah suppose ah can pick up hitchhikers." the man joked half heartedly as they walked outside. "Where do ya wanna go?"
"Somewhere we can talk."
"There's a place up the road. Passed it earlier, it didn't look that great though-" the cowboy offered cautiously.
"It'll be fine." he assured him, stepping into the truck cab. Closed doors, privacy, distance from listening ears. That was all they really needed.
"I mean we could prob'ly drive back south, might be somethin' better-" the Texan nervously babbled as he climbed into the driver's seat.
Spy placed a hand on Engineer's shoulder, "It will be fine." he repeated.
Engineer turned to look him in the eye, just for a moment. He gave the Texan's shoulder a squeeze and was rewarded with a weak smile. The cowboy turned back to the steering wheel and started the engine. Reluctantly Spy removed his hand.
"Put that cig out." the man grumbled looking behind him as he put the the truck in reverse.
"For you, mon cher, I would not want to hit any cactus." Spy chuckled and took one last drag on his cigarette before tossing it out the window.
They rode in silence while truck sped down the road out of town. There was no one on the road but the two of them. Dusk had fallen lending the cab an intimate privacy.
"How do yah do it?" the Texan asked finally.
"Pardon?"
"Live with all those secrets, lies… doesn't it get tirin'?"
Spy chuckled as he leaned out the window to enjoy the breeze through the weave of his mask. "Monsieur Cowboy, I find the truth exhausting." The truth was like a piece of himself. Something that could be used later against him. A weakness. The less one knew about you the less they could hurt you. Or, he reflected, if they did hurt you, they'd never know they'd struck a nerve.
"I am no good with lying'" Engineer chuckled sadly "Ah like things simple."
"Lying makes things simple."
"Says the man with no known name who wears a mask to bed."
"Why settle for one name when you can have a dozen?" he asked archly.
"There yah go, making things complicated."
"Just say enough to get what you need, leave the rest to imagination."
"What is that supposed tah mean?"
"I become who I need to be to achieve a goal. Say what I need to get what I want-"
"-Oh is that whatcha did?" there was an edge to the Texan's voice that made him uneasy. He had mis-spoken. "Tell me what I want-"
"-No." he cut him off before the man could finish his sentence. "Not what I meant at all."
"Then what did ya mean?" the man asked stiffly.
"I meant, your problem. People talking, questions being asked." he explained trying to soothe the cowboy. "They don't know what we are doing. They won't know."
"How do yah reckon that?"
"They will assume your paramour is a woman." he explained with a shrug. "That is just fact. Until they are told otherwise, they won't suspect. They won't know."
"Except for Medic-"
"-Who is insane. Certified." He decided to spare the man what stories he had uncovered about the RED team's physician.
"That doesn' help when folks ask me questions about 'Her'."
"So?"
"What am I supposed to do - if they know ah'm seein' someone - they're gonna ask. What do you tell yer team?"
"My team?" he repeated the question confused. "Why would I tell them anything?"
"Don' yah talk to 'em? Don' they ask anythin'?"
"Non. Why would they?" He had never made it a habit to make idle chat with his coworkers and they had never gotten into the habit of talking to him.
The Texan sighed "Forget ah asked."
"No- no," he tried again. "If someone asks you - just make something up."
"Ah'm bad at it." Engineer reminded him.
"So make up something before someone asks. Remember it - like a cover story."
"A cover story?"
"Yes."
"Hunh."
"Come come, I will help you. So tell me about this mystery woman. What is she like?"
"What?"
"Make her up, your fantasy woman."
Awkward silence filled the cab with only the sound of the road and the engine. "Well Monsieur?" he prompted.
"Ah'm thinkin!"
"Partial lies might be easier," he suggested. "Take something true and change a few details."
"Such as?"
"Your mystery lady could be very charming." he offered, grinning.
"Take a truth and change it?"
"Yes. You try."
"I'm courting a six foot chimney."
There was an offended pause "... That is hardly what I had in mind."
"Ah told you I'm bad at it."
"Point made…" Spy sighed heavily and wished he had a cigarette. The truck slowed as they came to a roadhouse and the motel next to it. Engineer hadn't been lying, it didn't look like much at all. But it was remote, and private.
Engineer turned onto the gravel drive and they rattled into a into a parking space next to the motel, "Well, here we are." he said killing the motor. "Ah warned yah."
"It will be fine." he repeated calmly hoping the man would realize he meant more than the motel room.
"Ah jus' go… uh… check in I guess." the cowboy opened his door.
"Wait." Spy grabbed his arm to stop him. The Texan turned to look at him with a befuddled look on his face. "When someone asks you about… where you go ...just say 'A gentleman doesn't kiss and tell.'"
"A gentleman doesn't kiss and tell?"
"Yes." Why didn't the man see the brilliance? It was simple, elegant. And it wouldn't force the man to lie.
"That's your solution?"
"I thought you liked things simple."
"Yah don' think anyone will find that suspicious?"
"You are a quiet man yes? A gentleman yes?" The man was making a mountain out of this. It had taken his team weeks to realize he had divorced. Most of them didn't even know he had been married. Their collective contracts would run out long before anyone thought enough to question the cowboy closer.
"... It… might work." the cowboy hesitated. He seemed mollified for at least the moment. Not saying anything else he shrugged out of the Frenchman's grip and out of the car.
Following suit, Spy slid out of the passenger side, glad to stretch his legs. Reaching into his jacket he pulled out his cigarette case and lit one up. He paced by the truck, the gravel stones crunching with his every step. Had he helped Engineer with his concerns? Or had he muddled it? The man was so concerned with keeping things simple, keep things orderly, neat. Honest. Spy could wear many faces and be many things but honest wasn't one of them.
"'Ey, Spook." the Texan's voice cut through his thoughts. He looked over the hood of the truck to see the cowboy holding up a keychain and pointing. "215, he said it was upstairs around the corner."
The Frenchman smiled, though it was lost in the glow of the flickering neon sign. "Lead on Monsieur" he called back. At least for now, the man was still here.
Engineer sighed and stretched, enjoying the luxuries of a motel room. The larger, more comfortable bed, the bathroom that didn't have to be shared with eight other people, and the fact that it was miles away from said eight people. Miles away from base, and even further away from home. It wasn't as good as a desert island but it would do in a pinch.
He glanced over at his bed partner who was leaning back on the pillows, lighting a cigarette. The flame of the lighter danced over the Frenchman's masked face, illuminating the sharp angles in the dim light, flickering in his half lidded eyes. He would have to admit the company was also an improvement.
Spy took a drag of the cigarette before noticing he was being watched. Smirking, he leaned over "What is it they say, a penny for your thoughts, Monsieur?"
"Oh… nothin' important." he said, his eyes falling to the comforter of the bed.
"I suppose it wouldn't be if I was paying a penny." The Frenchman chuckled settling his head on the Texan's chest. Engineer's shoulders tensed in surprise. Spy in private was a different person than he was publically. When in public the man was aloof, which made sense. It would hardly do for anyone to suspect anything untoward was going on between them, even strangers far away from base. But it was still a clash from the image he had built up of Spy over the years. A distant self absorbed snob in a well tailored suit. But he was starting to suspect that was probably another mask or facade the man put on.
The Frenchman reached out and took one of Engineer's calloused hands. Spy's hand was slender, pale, Engineer was inclined to use the word elegant to describe them. The skin usually out of the harsh sunlight and covered by gloves provided an almost comical contrast against the Texan's own workman's hand.
He slid his free arm around the man as delicately as he could, as if any sudden movements would ruin the moment and Spy would shut down and lock him out, again wearing the mask he showed the rest of the world. Instead, the Frenchman scooted in closer. Relaxing again, Engineer let himself enjoy the feel of skin against him, the lull of the the man's breathing, the warmth of touch. Idly, he ran his thumb along the pale knuckles, the faint scars from Spy's past that he never dared ask about.
"So mon lapin, what unimportant things are you thinking about?"
He smiled wryly at the nickname, regardless if they were in public or private Spook seemed to enjoy getting under his skin. "Nothin' much." he said nervously, "Jus'... enjoyin' this." The quiet, the peace, the feel of the man's touch, the skin against his own.
A faint smile drifted across the Frenchman's face. Not the usual smirk, but a genuine smile. "How long do we have?" the man asked quietly.
Engineer squinted in the dim light as he read the clock on the bedside table. It was hours until they had to check out of the room, and go back to base. Back to lying, and masks. "More than a few hours."
"Good." Spy pulled their clasped hands closer and kissed the back of the Texan's hand, the stubble on his chin rubbing against the skin. He settled in the crook of Engineer's arm his eyes half closed, "We can stay like this a while longer."
Engineer sat down at the table in the mess hall with his plate of canned vegetables and questionable meat products. They claimed it was pork but it looked far less appetizing than any pork cut he could recall. With a grimace he picked up his knife and fork and began to saw away at the cutlet.
With a loud clatter and a sigh Demo slumped in the seat across from him. "'Ey Laddie"
"Evenin', pull up a table saw,"
"Dey servin' us shoe leather again?"
"When don' they?", the Scotsman chuckled in reply.
Engineer finally succeeded in cutting a piece off and started the arduous process of chewing it when Sniper came to the table and sat beside him.
"Evenin' Slim." he greeted the man who just grunted in response.
"Ey, mate," Demo greeted the bushman who nodded, "Thanks fer the backup today."
"No worries," Sniper shrugged, "They were in my scope."
"I could'a handled them meself," the Scotsman insisted "But saved me th' trouble."
The bushman remained silent as he focused on his plate of food.
"Say laddy, what's this I'been hearin' about you winchin' a bird?"
"Eh, what?" Engineer looked up from his plate trying to feign ignorance.
"Yer seein' a lady aren't ya?" the man asked with a grin "Thas where ya goin' on weekends."
"'A-ah dunno whatcha're talkin' about." he muttered sawing another bite of meat. The damn kid's mouth...
"Aye, right," the Scotsman snorted, "We're all pals round here. Ain't that right Snipes?" Sniper nodded vaguely as if he wasn't sure what he was agreeing to, Demo pressed on. "What's she like?"
"Wha' business is'it o' yers?" he sputtered.
"Blonde? Brunette?"
Freezing like a deer in headlights the Texan tried to think of something. Anything to say. He cleared his throat, Spy had talked about this. What to say? Desperately his memory called up, "A gentleman never kisses and tells?" he offered finally.
Demo goggled at him with his one good eye, before the man could press the issue Engineer turned to the Australian. "So Slim, how was yer day?"
"Bloody check ups," Sniper muttered darkly in the direction of his dinner.
He had hoped for a better subject to switch to but this would have to do, in fact he was surprised the subject had changed successfully at all "Yeah, it's that time of year again."
"The man is a bloody lunatic."
Reflexively both the Scotsman and Engineer glanced around the table to make sure said lunatic wasn't in earshot. "Bedside manner of a vulture," Demo grumbled.
"Like he's plannin' somethin'" the Texan agreed. Or prying into affairs that were none of his business, he added to himself. What was he after? Even Spook seemed baffled, which was worrying considering his field of expertise.
"Watch yer back laddy, he might try to put needles in yer sockets." Demo warned.
"What?" he jerked his head up to face the Scotsman, Tavish had seemed sober but he supposed he could be mistaken… "Tha' just…" he was about to say 'ridiculous' but remembered who they were talking about and trailed off.
"Put needle in yer eyes into yer brain," the man explained with the same gruesome enthusiasm he used when telling folks how he lost his eye.
The Texan sat there in horrified silence as his brain processed this information and very unhelpfully began providing imagery of Medic gleefully handling foot long needles. The man had to be drunk, severely delusionally drunk. This had to be something he was making up.
"Doc's not goin' ta do that." Sniper added quietly. "Not anymore, anyway."
"Anymore!?"
"That was months ago." Sniper offered, "Back when ya were…" he trailed off, "Actin' funny."
"Funny?"
"Ye know, back when yer wife left ya." the Scotsman clarified.
"Wha-Wh-Why?" he sputtered to no one in particular, there were too many questions for him to begin asking. Why would Medic want to put needles in his eyes? Why had he told everyone else about it? Had the team been intending to let this happen? What had they been thinking? Was Medic still planning to do this? Did this have anything to do with the man's questions earlier? "Ya know what-nevermind." he massaged the bridge of his nose. He stood from the table. "Ah'm - Ah'm gonna go."
Leaving his plate behind he scurried to make his exit, lost in his whirlwind of thoughts. Distracted by phantoms he hadn't even made it out of the mess hall when he bumped into a giant Russian.
"Sorry!," he stepped back and looked up to see Heavy's face. "I'm sorry, ah-"
"Engineer!" Heavy interrupted him with a smile. "Good timing!"
The Texan blinked up at the Russian mountain in confusion. "It is?" he tried to peer around the man to see if Medic was behind him waiting.
"Sasha needs to be fixed." the man said gesturing to his minigun that he was carrying.
That was unusual, Heavy usually did his own maintenance. "What's wrong with her?"
"She needs to be fixed." the man repeated.
"Sure, jus' bring 'er by the workshop lat-"
"Sasha needs to be fixed. Now."
Engineer usually didn't let himself be bullied by team members. If he let teammates disrupt his work schedule with their problems all the time, he'd get nothing done. Instead, he nodded and found himself gently herded towards the door and down the hall.
"Has she not been firing properly?" he asked as they walked down the stairs to the basement.
"Can see her when we get to workshop," Heavy answered firmly.
Unlocking the workshop door he flicked on the light switch. As the lights flickered to life he gestured for the Russian to enter ahead of him. "Ah'm not sure ah got replacement parts for 'er," he hoped this was an easy fix.
Heavy placed Sasha carefully on a clean patch of the workbench. "Ahright," Engineer said quietly to himself walking to the table, "Let's see what we got here."
The Texan frowned turning the gun on its side, he gently spun the rotors, they moved freely. "This would really help if you told me what to look for." No shells stuck in the barrels. Nothing gumming up the works. "Nothing seems broken," he muttered reaching for a screwdriver. If Heavy had bothered to ask him for help, there surely had to be something wrong with it, the man treated his guns like they were his children.
"Forget that."
"But-" he was cut off as Heavy scooped the gun off the table.
"Engineer looked like he needs to talk."
"What?" There were many teammates he would suspect of lying, but Heavy was not one of them. "There's nothin-…" he faltered as Heavy raised an eyebrow. The lie dried up in his mouth, despite what Spy had tried to teach him he couldn't even muster a fib. With a sigh he sank onto his stool.
"So what is it? This problem?" the Russian asked.
He glanced nervously at the door, and around the room. It was just the two of them. Or seemed to be. Agitatedly he picked his remote from the table, running his hand along the switch on it, careful to not press it. "D-do you want some coffee?"
"No thank you." Heavy said, walking around the room more quietly than one would have expected from a man his size carrying a gun that large.
"It'd be no trouble I can make some." he offered again, getting off his stool. Heavy wordlessly looked at him, leaning against the door, placing himself and several pounds of firepower between Engineer and freedom. He sat back down again. it seemed this was a talk he was going to have.
"What is bothering you?" the man asked gently. Despite his strategic position and his persistence he seemed less threatening than Medic had been.
Speaking of Medic, "Was the Doc really gonna put needles in my eyes?" the question tumbled out of his mouth.
Heavy sighed wearily, "Doktor gets many... ideas. Some not as good as others."
"... Ah…" While not a yes or a no, the answer had been clear enough.
"But that's not what really troubling you."
Once again he tried to wrack his brain for a lie but finally gave up. "I uh…" he cleared his throat.. "I uh - ah started seein' someone." He shouldn't be saying this. Any of this. "Didn' intend tah. Jus' sorta...happened. Wasn' lookin' for it." he added defensively. "Normally- I… wouldn't. Wasn' intendin' to." he feebly explained.
The Russian nodded but remained quiet.
"No one you know." he added hastily trying to cover his tracks. It wasn't exactly a lie. Few people probably knew the snake in any capacity. Hell he probably was fooling himself thinking he knew anything about the man. "We… uh- we" odd how that word felt so dangerous in his mouth, "uh meet off base...on weekends."
The room grew quiet except for the hum of the dispenser.
"And what is problem?"
Everything. His fingers nervously drummed on the workbench. Wrong person. Wrong parts. Wrong job. Wrong team. He exhaled trying to figure out what he could say, what he could risk saying. "Normally… ah… wouldn't've" he mumbled.
Heavy remained silent, waiting for him to continue.
"If anyone…" he shook his head. "... this is a mess. If anyone...found out…" He trailed off leaving the consequences unspoken. He didn't need to say it, it was obvious. He'd be fired. If he was lucky. Fired, or dumped down a mineshaft somewhere. "And mah family-shit if mah family knew…" he sighed. "Mah family... They'd…" disown, condemn, or hell, institutionalize him. That's if he didn't get lynched by the neighbors first. "...Disapprove," he spat out.
"I see." the Russian answered finally. "That does sound like a formidable problem."
The Texan nodded picking up a screwdriver and idly turning it over in his hands, unable to say anything else.
"If this is that big of a problem, why do you still see this person? Why not stop?"
"Ah tried!" Engineer laughed, it was a brittle sort of sound, even to his own ears. "Ah tried…" he repeated softly. "Ah was all set to do that. Thas the sad part. I jus'-" he shrugged as he thought back to that night in the diner. The anxious look on Spy's face, the nervous conversation in the hotel. The feel of his touch. "Jus' couldn' do it." he laughed sadly. Couldn't give it up. Giving it up - giving him up. He'd be all alone again.
Heavy nodded understandingly. There was another pause before he spoke, slowly, as if weighing each word. "So this person, they make you happy?" he asked
The Texan faltered, the question catching him off guard. Was he happy? Spy infuriated him. Drove him to distraction. But was he happy? He wasn't sure the answer to that.
"It seems to me-" the Russian's voice ploughed through his thoughts. "-that there's a lot of…" he paused as if thinking of a word "bad things in the world. Many people think they know what everyone should be doing." a hard edge to his voice implied he'd had more than his share of such things. "Too many bad things and few good. If this person makes you happy…" the man shrugged "Why lose something good before you have to?"
"I keep expecting this to blow up in my face." he admitted quietly. Despite evidence to the contrary he was still expecting this to be some weird joke. Some trap. Or the man would get tired of him and leave. Like Evie had.
"Everything ends sometime." Heavy shrugged "How it ends and when it ends is up to you."
"Fire and disaster at the least convenient time." he muttered darkly.
"Maybe, maybe not. Worry just…" Heavy frowned as he tried to figure out the word again. "... makes dirty? poisons?" he sighed, "Makes it worse."
"Dirties." Engineer quietly corrected.
The Russian grunted his thanks before continuing, "If you find something good, enjoy it, hang on to it long as you can. If it ends, you still have the memories."
Engineer mulled this over in his head. Heavy might have a point, being miserable was not really achieving anything. He couldn't end things with Spy, so he supposed he might as well enjoy what he could.
"Do you need hug?" the man asked interrupting his thoughts, "My sisters say that helps."
"Uh-n-" he started to turn down the offer but found the words, and his air cut off as the Russian giant embraced him lifting him from his stool. The Texan remained motionless in the bear hug as he hung there, his feet a few uncomfortable inches off the ground, his spine popping. For a moment or two he felt oddly comforted, secure if a bit stifled. Heavy then let him go, leaving him leaning on the workbench as he caught his breath.
"That help?" he asked clapping the Texan, who nodded weakly, on the shoulder, knocking him back onto his stool.
The Russian beamed, and lifting his minigun from the floor he turned the doorknob to make his exit.
"Hey, Heavy?"
The Russian turned, "Hm?"
"Yah ain't gonna tell the Doc about this? Are yah?" the last thing he needed was more of the good doctor smugly offering advice to him. He probably had diagrams laying around for such an occasion.
"No Engineer," the man assured him. "Doktor will not be told."
"Thanks," he bit his lip, "For listening."
"You are welcome." with that Heavy left the room, the door clicking shut behind him.
The truck lurched to a halt at the end of a gravel road. Barely suppressing a grin, the cowboy leaned on the wheel and gestured.
"Here we are." the Texan hopped out of the truck.
Spy peered out the window, the sun was dipping low painting everything a deep orange. It was hardly a sunset worth the drive to view. Ahead of him was little to note it from any other chunk of desert except a small huddle of new looking concrete buildings and a cluster of large dish antennas pointing to the empty sky.
The Frenchman climbed out of the vehicle, trying to assess where they were. Not enough security to be a location of military importance. Too remote to be a broadcasting tower. The Texan had said he wanted to show him this, but he wasn't sure what he was meant to be seeing.
"It's the Array." the cowboy said as if that explained everything. "They only started building this last year, pushed plans ahead to compete with the Australians."
"…Array?" Spy repeated quietly trying not to look lost. The man had driven them out here, there had to be some reason for it, if he had wanted a quiet remote location there were plenty of patches of desert more romantic than this.
"It's not done yet," Engineer shrugged apologetically, "they say in the end they are going to have over twenty of those telescopes."
"Telescopes?" Spy frowned looking over the plain feeling like he was missing something. It was a strange feeling not knowing or having any previous knowledge of something.
"Radio telescopes, for looking into space."
He nodded quietly as if the Texan's words made sense. Antennas in his experience were for listening, receiving information. How exactly one could "look" anywhere was a mystery to him.
"Space emits frequencies" Engineer explained, whether the cowboy was trying to fill the silence or figured out how little he actually knew, Spy hesitated to guess. "Well not space itself, but stars, and planets. They emit frequencies… like radio waves."
"So they're listening for… stars?" None of this sounded like a telescope. Unless Americans had changed the meaning of the word and hadn't seen fit to inform him.
"They're more plannin' to map space more than anythin' else. Different objects up there have differen' frequencies, thas what they're listenin' for. That's why they got the dishes on those tracks. They can rotate them and move 'em around to focus and coordinate." The more the cowboy spoke the less Spy found himself understanding. The words were English but beyond that he was lost.
"They got one of these in England, it can hear the Milky Way. Well the edge of it, I mean, we're kinda in it so that makes things a bit complicated." Spy gave up making sense of the words and just let himself enjoy the lilt and drawl of the man's voice.
"-Though this array they say should see past that. Into other galaxies. So far they're not done but they have been finding black holes and other planets. They'll be able to pin point and see further once they finish the full array. Once we get to the moon Lord only knows where we can get tah after…" The Texan trailed off his enthusiasm quickly dissipating as he glanced at Spy.
"Sorry… sorry." He rubbed his neck the way usually did when he was nervous. "Ah'm rambling… yah probably don' care." Spy frowned as the cowboy's eyes sank down to the ground. "We can leave…" he mumbled feebly gesturing at the truck.
Quietly, Spy crossed the few steps separating them from each other. The cowboy was very nervous about being seen in the open. Skittish to any sort of contact or closeness. But this place was remote enough and from what he had managed to glean from the man's passionate explanation if there was anyone here they, like the antennas, would be looking skyward.
"Thank you for showing this to me," he said slipping his gloved hand into the Texan's own. He debated about lying, putting on an act, claiming he enjoyed it. But Engineer would know the difference and not be happy with the deception.
"Yer welcome." the cowboy replied with a chuckle leaning into Spy. The weight of the man against him was not unpleasant. "At least the sunset's nice."
"So it is." he agreed.
They stood there for a moment or two, taking in the view as the sun was dipping below the horizon, the scientific buildings and their collection of radio dishes turning into silhouettes against the sky. Spy rested his chin on the cowboys head, enjoying the moment. The peace.
The moment didn't last as long as he wanted before Engineer spoke. "Come on - I know a place, I'll take ya to dinner as an apology."
BLU base's security was as much a joke as RED's was, the RED Spy noted with disdain as he crept through a back door. His cloak made the security cameras less than a nuscience. And he knew the patterns well enough by now to know where he could duck out of sight to let his watch recharge.
Why either side bothered spending money on this obsolete equipment was beyond him. But it was hardly his place to question such matters. It wasn't even like he was here on official business anyway. Tonight was a personal affair. Slinking up the stairs he made his way to the barracks.
He had been observing the comings and goings on base for weeks now, and had noticed his fellow Spy had fallen into a pattern. The man would sometimes leave on Friday evening, or sometime the next day, but no matter the variation, he was always gone on Saturday nights and not return until Sunday. Maybe sometime he'd trail him and see just what was keeping him occupied, but he didn't have time for that. Reconnaissance, in this case would be faster.
"I'M WEARING MY UNIFORM, WHAT ELSE WOULD I BE WEARING?" the Soldier's voice reverberated from the phone booth, echoing down the concrete walls. He, like his RED counterpart, had very loose grasp of what many would call an "indoor voice."
"THAT IS IMPROPER TREATMENT OF A UNIFORM-" the witless man continued. Invisibly, the saboteur walked past the man and his phone conversation. At least with this noise no one could hear any sound of his passing through.
The sounds of the idiocy faded as he made his way deeper into the barracks. He rarely bothered to visit this area of BLU base but the layout was similar to RED's own. Past the abysmal recreation area, into the main halls. The doors were stenciled with each mercenaries position. Mercenaries were easy to replace so there was little sense personalizing anything. He came to the end of the hall before he found the room he was looking for. In case he had any doubt, underneath the word "Spy" someone had tacked a cartoonish drawing of the man in coutis with the Eiffel tower. Rolling his eyes, he pulled his lock picks out and with little effort opened the door.
Once the door was open he glanced around the threshold looking for security measures. Faintly glistening, so faintly he could barely see it in the dim light, was a trip wire. That could hardly be the only security, or the man was a bigger fool than he thought. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed a picture hanging near the door. It seemed to be the only adornment around, carefully he leaned forward not cross the trip wire or the threshold, tilted the frame aside, and revealed a small electronic switch. Giving it a flick he turned it off. Smiling to himself he stepped over the tripwire and let the door shut behind him. There might be other surprises waiting but those were probably the main ones.
The room was plain, bare, no signs of personal effects or decoration. He probably had some bolt hole elsewhere with more luxuries. Still there might be some signs of where the man was going, or some other sort of information he could use against him. Show the amateur what sort of mistake he had made crossing him.
The desk provided nothing interesting. Some blank stationery, a few packs of atrocious cigarettes, a few exploding pens, an out of date catalog from Spy Co. Junk. Trash. The drawers false bottoms revealed some travel papers and money. He skimmed the collection taking time to write down all the aliases. The information wasn't much use now but it might be handy in the future. He carefully put everything back where he found it.
Irritably he turned to the bed, the bed frame was company issue and inferior, as was the mattress, with no sign of tampering. He lifted the edge of the mattress but as he expected, there was nothing but dust and shoddy woodwork.
The man's nightstand had nothing on it but a beat up lamps, a dimestore crime novel and a half empty ashtray. Curiously, he flipped through the paperback looking for any dog earred pages, any thing that might be of use. But there was nothing in there but a scrap of paper that acted as a bookmark.
The wardrobe was another piece of cheap institutional rubbish. He tapped half heartedly along the sides listening for hollow sounds, or abnormalities but there was nothing. Inside was just as disappointing. Cheap suits, jackets, a trench coat, a collection of fake beards. He might as well be looking at an empty closet for all the good it was doing him.
There proved to be no false back, and the the drawers contained nothing more than underwear and socks and a small camera the size of a walnut. With a sigh he looked on the top shelf, hardly expecting his luck to change. Rummaging around he found an umbrella gun, and hats. Fedoras, trilbys, a dusty fez. Nothing you couldn't get out of a catalog. The man covered his tracks well.
He swore under his breath as he pulled more hats from the shelf, maybe there was something hidden behind them.
A patch of red caught his eye among the hats. Not red, he corrected himself as he picked up the item. Maroon. He frowned turning the hat over in his hands. It was a baseball cap, like a child or idiot would wear. But what was it doing here? A disguise? The man he supposed could have some unknown love for an American sports team, but that seemed unlikely. If it wasn't for the color he'd assume it was something stolen from a teammate. He ran a finger over the patch on the front, the symbol on the front was unfamiliar and meant nothing to him.
He was overthinking this. It was probably just a hat, it just had been the only thing of interest he had come across. Irritably he tossed the stupid thing back into the wardrobe throwing in the other hats in after it.
Reconnaissance had turned up nothing he fumed as he made his way out of the room. He hated to admit it, but if he was going to get one over the BLU Spy he was going to have to resort to other tactics.
