Brazil. 2100 hours local.
15 hours after the shoot-down.
Having set up a fire, and gathered some other things together such as some non poisonous plants to use for bedding, Tracer's stomach rumbled, almost as loud as the storm outside. She hadn't had anything to eat in at least a day. Still, at least she had some shelter and could get warm now.
"You hungry, Lena?". Omega had heard her from the entrance to the alcove, around 15 metres away. He was busy rigging an aerial of sorts for the beacon, "So that if shit does hit the fan tonight we might have a fighting chance" he'd justified.
"A little, yeah. And thirsty." she replied, somewhat weakly. This constant heat combined with all the extra effort it took to move around the jungle meant that she was in as bad a way physically as she was mentally. I'm not cut out for this, she thought as she laid back against a wall, not just yet. How the hell does he make this look so easy?
He returned from his work on the aerial and undid a pouch on his belt, before producing a canteen. He tossed it to her.
"Here, get that down you. I'll see about finding us some dinner. And don't let that damn fire go out or we'll be having it cold!"
As he headed for the jungle, she called after him. "What is it with you and all of this old gear? I swear most of it belongs in a museum!"
He laughed again at this remark. "I know it works, and I know that a lot of the newer kit doesn't work so well. I'll take the proven option any day, thanks."
With that, he hopped from the side of the ledge and slid down to the jungle floor.
70 minutes later.
Omega had come across his quarry. A large Green Iguana, at least 30 pounds in weight. Night had fallen about half an hour ago, but the darkness did not fase him. Among the many changes caused by his exposure to the neutron burst almost 20 years ago, he had partial night-vision. Not quite as good as using an NVA, but good enough to take on most things and see where he was going.
One of the few useful mutations I got.
He bolstered his rifle and drew the phased pulse pistol from his right leg. Again, it was an older make- a prototype in fact- but he favoured it over its newer contemporaries because it was lighter, packed a good enough punch and was almost silent.
Perfect. Now, let's not attract any trouble. God forbid the metal, clanking kind.
He brought the weapon up to eye level, its sights being easily distinguishable by his eye. The sights drifted to its head. He held his breath, and squeezed the trigger.
The weapon made a dull *PHUM* as it fired. The sole downside of this weapon was it had a distinctive noise. Too distinctive. No matter: everything had its flaws. Even him.
He moved in to collect his prize. The head, what was left of it, was still smouldering. The rest of the lizard was intact. Perfect for a light meal. He curled the still-dextrous corpse into the pouch that had contained his canteen- a tight fit though it was- and set off in the direction of the cavern.
The cave. 2230.
Tracer woke with a start as she heard rockfall outside. I hope that's Omega, and not some Omnic. Or worse yet, some wild beast.
As quietly as she could, she drew her pistols. Moments later, the source of the noise dropped into view. A jaguar. And it looked angry.
Shit.
She steadied her aim and pulled the triggers. She didn't like killing in cold blood, but she didn't fancy being mauled. That would just round off a bad day.
KLIK*
KLIK*
Oh, come on!
Both weapons sounded off a 'Dead man's click'. The water must've screwed them up.
The jaguar flicked its head in her direction. The problem with a dead man's click is that it still makes noise. Not good for hiding from an angry creature.
Her heart stopped. Fuck. That thing looks angry and hungry: and I must look like a snack
She scrambled toward the back of the cave as it padded towards her, slowly and menacingly. No, no, no! Not like this!
The jaguar prowled forward, snarling as it drew closer. Her back hit the wall at the back of the cave. She had nowhere to go and two hundred pounds of snarling, furry fury a matter of feet away from her.
Omega! Where the fuck are you?!
The next few moments passed in a blur: The jaguar pounced at Tracer. She screamed and curled into a ball, trying desperately to not get torn limb from limb by this enraged, and hungry, cat. It sunk its claws into the side of her leg and her shoulder, as its teeth sunk into her torso. She felt the warm sensation of blood running from the wounds.
As the blood began to flow, she found herself sobbing rather than screaming.
This is it. So much for getting home alive, she thought, as the jaguar continued its relentless pursuit of a meal. Nobody will ever be the wiser about what happened either.
She heard a loud clunk followed by the terrified yelping of the jaguar as it broke away from Tracer. It growled as it turned on its new target. The fight was somewhat immense, but short-lived as its new opponent quickly gained the upper hand. Omega grabbed the cat by the scruff of its neck and dragged it to the ledge.
"Get the FUCK out of my cave, you overgrown stray!" He bellowed out into the jungle, as he sent it sailing through the air on the end of his boot.
He limped back to where Tracer lay.
" Sorry I'm late, I lost where the cave was-" His smile turned to a worried, almost distressed look as he saw the bloodstains on the wall and her clothes. He saw more clearly what had happened as he got closer. Her right arm had been torn open badly, and there was a whole host of further injuries: lacerations to her right leg from the jaguar's initial attack, bite injuries to her torso, cuts, bruises and other marks everywhere... another minute or so and she'd likely have been a jaguar-snack. Let's not worry her with the fine details.
"Here, let me take a look at that." He broke out a small medical pack. "You... took your... time. What... What took so long?" Tracer was feeling faint, and could barely string a sentence together. She'd lost at least a pint of blood by now, and more by the minute. He produced an auto injector from the pack, injecting it into Tracer's more intact left shoulder. "ow. What... what was that?"
He took hold of her hand as she outstretched it. "A biotic shot. Kinda like what Doc Ziegler uses. It should stop you leaking and top you back up. you'll be right as rain in about 5 minutes." She looked at him as her vision began to clear up as the nanobots started to replenish the blood she had lost.
His chest had been severely mauled. I suppose that's the end result when you treat a big cat like your average moggie. His arms and face were also in pretty bad shape. He slumped down by the wall next to her. Her head started to clear as her blood levels came back to what they should be. "You need one of those as well. Look at you." He looked up at her. "No, I only ever carry the one. Besides- *Uggh*- I've lived through worse."
"How?"
"It's one of my party tricks." He took a sachet and tore it open, before tipping the rust-coloured powder into the worst of the injuries.
"*Ahh!* That's better." He whispered as he propped himself up, apparently somehwat more alive. "Now, can you get yourself up here or do I have to carry you?"
Tracer tried to get on her feet, but her legs gave out and she fell back against the wall. despite her injuries having been healed, she was still weak from the lack of energy.
"Carrying it is. You lucky, lazy bugger." He scooped her up in his arms and carried her over to sit next to the fire. He put her down against the wall before slumping back next to it. She glanced at him as he tended to the metal cup from his canteen which he had been using to cook some of the meat from the iguana. It had only been about ten minutes, yet the wounds on his chest seemed to have almost healed.clotting agents like those he'd emptied into them wouldn't be able to make that happen.
She noticed that he was grimacing too.
35 minutes after the encounter, their supper had finally cooked through, and they started eating. Tracer was near-ravenous: even if it is a lizard, it tastes great! she mused as she ripped into the white flesh, and I must already look like some kind of feral girl, so what difference will it make if I act like one?
She glanced over at Omega. he'd had Basel half of what he'd given her.
"Are you sure that's enough to eat, love?" He looked up from his somewhat eviscerated meat and swallowed what was in his mouth before replying. "The training I had in this line of work means that I can go for about three weeks before I even need to consider eating depending on what I'm doing. Anyway, you looked like you were in more need of it than I am."
She noticed that he was shivering. Probably because his body still wasn't quite right after the attack earlier.
"Here, let me help you," she chirped as she half limped, half crawled next to him. She say in against him and wrapped an arm around his shoulder.
"That better?"
He looked at her. Tracer noticed he had what seemed to be a tear in his eye. "y..yeah."
She turned his head back to face her. "No you aren't. Something up?"
He sighed, and took a moment before answering. "Yes. It's just been this long since I last felt- close to someone... If you get what I mean."
She nodded slowly.
"How about your callsign, anyway? How'd you come to get that?"
He scoffed slightly. "At first, it was a harmless joke. Like I am now, I was the new guy. The runt at the bottom of the pile. Hence, 'Omega'." He sighed."As the years passed, it took on a whole new meaning. By the time I got discharged, out of fifteen of us who had finished basic together I was the last. That's the meaning I am reminded of every time it's used. 'The last one alive'. Their faces are written into my mind. Every night for over a decade has been an endless nightmare."
While she looked at him as he explained, she noticed his dog tags, presumably issued to him for clandestine work. When MI6 deployed its agents in battles against the Omnium or Talon, they were given them.
One bore his name. But the other...
"Who's that other name, on your ID Disk?"
"Hm?" His emotions were starting to become more pronounced, as he had begun to tremble. Not shiver.
"Her...She... she was my girlfriend."
Tracer stopped for a moment. was indicated the worst these days. She couldn't tell whether going further along this avenue would be a good idea. She chose to anyhow- she needed to get to the bottom of this. For her sake as well as his.
"What happened?"
"It was one of those things that was a story for another time. we've nothing better to do until dawn, so... so I suppose I might as well open up the can. Better get comfortable."
"Grace? Beautiful name..."
"s...She was a beautiful person, too" he stammered, fighting back the tears as he spoke.
He stopped and took a deep breath, composing himself as best he could.
"It was six years ago. We were sent into Mogadishu, in Somalia. The humanitarian crisis was worse than it had been since 1995 when Gothic Serpent had gone in, and intelligence had put Talon's name to a lot of the atrocities. We were sent in there to get and capture a high command member of Talon, and with his knowledge potentially turn the tide of our fight against them.
They dubbed it 'Operation Artemis.' Most people know it now as 'Operation Slaughterhouse'..."
AUTHOR ENDNOTE
I hope you're enjoying the story so far. I've got a better idea of where I want to take this, and I hope you like how it turns out.
The next chapter will be primarily a flashback. In later stories, the timeline of the story may jump several times in quick succession. I'm not doing it to confuse anyone, it's just that it'll make more sense to do things in a non-chronological order.
END AUTHOR NOTE
