Morrison stood on one of the still-standing parapets that formed the lower platform of the former Headquarters. Back in its heyday, he would stand here, taking in the beauty of the Swiss countryside which the fortress-like building overlooked. He glanced at his watch. His contact was running late.
Then again, it occurred to him, he's never been someone to bow to authority. especially my authority.Morrison had vowed after Switzerland to never trust him again. The bloodshed and ruin and disgrace he had brought to Overwatch, the demolition of the work they had both created together... He wouldn't trust him again.
Yet here he was. The decision wasn't taken lightly: then again, the small army of men sent to try and kill him weren't armed lightly, either.
He'd been enjoying a normal morning in one of the various safehouses dotted across the world, only for the peace to be broken by a shaped charge on the wall followed by a fusilade of heavy weapons fire. Still, monkeys would have done a better job.
Even having been ambushed, Morrison took little time at all to eradicate every last one of his attackers. He'd assumed that Talon had somehow located him and dispatched Reaper- the embodiment of his former friend and comrade, now nemesis Gabriel- with his usual supporting arms to settle the deal.
What he found didn't add up.
Talon operatives, even their Covert teams, wore a Talon insignia on their right shoulder. These attackers didn't. Talon Identity Tags had a specific coding and ordering to aid administrative work, with ID codes being assigned by squads. These tags were a disarray of numbers and letters, nothing like those used by Talon.
Hm. If Talon aren't responsible, who is? He glanced at his PDA, still linked to Winston's comsat.
URGENT. TRACER MISSING, TRANSPONDER INACTIVE. INTERCEPTED SCOTLAND YARD FORENSIC REPORT SUGGESTS KIDNAP. NO KNOWN SUSPECTS.There and then he made the call. As much as he never wanted to see, much less rely on the assistance of Gabriel ever again, he didn't see an awful lot of choice. Since Tracer's assignment to Overwatch all that time ago, he'd found that he became her adoptive father. Her safety came paramount to him. He wouldn't allow himself to live in the knowledge that she was in peril and that he wasn't doing something to be of help.
The call patched through. A familiar hoarse tone boomed through the earpiece.
"Who the hell is this?"
"An old friend.", Morrison replied, flatly. Friend? With a friend like me, who needs the planet as an enemy? "We need to meet. You know where to find me. Be there at 0730 tomorrow."
With that, the line went dead.
Morrison heard a familiar whooshing, slightly louder than the wind, and felt a slight chill on the back of his neck.
About damn time.
"You've got 30 seconds. Talk."
Morrison took a breath, thinking once more over how to convince Gabriel to help. It'd probably make convincing the world to repeal the Petras Act look easy.
"Tracer's disappeared, kidnapped. I know Talon isn't behind it. They've tried and failed to take me down once already. I want your help to find these bastards, stop them and get her back."
Gabriel stood for a moment, indifferent. Morrison felt his nerve creeping up. Shen you can't see someone's eyes, you can't tell an awful lot about what's going on inside their head. Not that it'd matter.
Finally, his reply came. "I've got my own issues. Widowmaker... she's gone missing."
"Any trail?"
"Bodies, lots of 'em."
"Black uniforms, no insignia?"
"Yep."
"ID Tags that look loke a five-year-old typed them?"
Gabriel laughed. He was rarely amused by things nowadays- less so when it was a comment from his current nemesis- but when someone was taking the piss out of a mutual enemy, he couldn't help but see the funny side.
"Yeah. Same kinda guys that have already tried for both of us as well."
Morrison's stance softened slightly. His point had gotten through.
"So, the question still stands: do you want another set of eyes watching your back out there?" He extended a hand.
Gabriel grasped his hand and shook.
"Let's. This doesn't change anything between us, though."
"Naturally. Now, have you any more real intel to go on, or are we hunting in the dark?"
"I got some. Sombra, get your ass down here."
A flicker of purple, and the hacker supreme appeared like an apparition beside them.
"Si. Turns out these assholes are hardliners. Ex-members of Talon and Overwatch: you know, the ones both of us deemed too crazy to keep. They call themselves The Advocate. And here," she continued, bringing up a holographic map, complete with building renders, "is one of their cell headquarters. I doubt they're holding Sénora Azur there, or Sénora Veloz for that matter, but it should point you in the right direction." She tapped again, and the map shrunk away again.
"Not fancying a fight, huh?"
She chuckled.
"Ah, always playing El Macho, Gabe. I'm on holiday, remember? Still, if I come across anything..."
"Gotcha. Stay safe."
"Of course, mis amigos. Adios!"
With that, she vanished back into a cloud of purple code blocks and into thin air.
The pair glanced at the information they had.
"An old Omnic Foundry in Morocco. Shall we get some more people in to hel-"
"No." Morrison knew he was tearing his own combat pamphlet apart, but he had his reasons. "By the time we've assembled them, it could be too late. Besides, if you're half as good as yoy used to be, we should be able to take an entire continent on between us."
"Alright then. Let's get moving, we're wasting time yapping here."
With that, they made their way toward a lock-up containing a number of confiscated Combat VTOL craft, both of Talon and Overwatch construction. Next stop: Tangier.
