9: The Ambush

Brazil, 0710 hours local time.

1 day since the shoot-down.

"You've got a helluva lot of energy today, Lena." Omega mused as she skipped alongside him.

She'd decided against sleeping the previous night- partly because her mind was alive with questions for Omega, and partly because being mauled by another jaguar wasn't high on her list- and so had spent the remainder of the time until dawn picking his mind while he fixed her pistols. She'd also found out how exactly he'd come to have a coronal accelerator of sorts: he was a former scientist before the God Program that ran the nuclear facility I worked at went rogue at the start of the Omnic crisis and blew up. He'd been exposed to a Neutron Burst which had killed everyone else in the facility.

Yet somehow he'd survived. And once he'd recovered, he set about making something that could stabilise his other side effects, leading to the watch-like device on his wrist. She'd also learned that he had suffered a form of amnesia, meaning that although he still had all the skills and abilities and knowledge, he was missing any memory since before he woke up from the coma. Hence why you're now kinda the only family I've got, he'd remarked, and I'm not about to let you down like I let down everyone else.

"Where are we going today then, Ry?" She had started to trust him more after realising that they were so alike.

They'd moved out of their cave at the crack of dawn and were making good headway. Far faster than the previous day.

"I say we make for the border. There's knack-all point trying to finish the job in our state."

He froze and cocked his head to one side.

"You hear that?"

She strained her ears. She could hear a faint buzzing and clanking, getting louder by the second.

"Is that-?"

As she spoke, Omega grabbed her and threw the pair of them to the ground as a hail of fire tore through the jungle.

"SHIT! WHERE DID THAT LOT COME FROM?" She exclaimed.

"I don't know. Come on, let's get the fuck outta here!" he shouted back as they scrambled to their feet. He flicked the switch on the SARBE from 'Off' to 'Emergency' as they ran. Well, this is kind of an emergency now...

They bolted through the jungle, dodging bullets as they moved. Occasionally turning back to fire on the advancing swarm of Omnics, their situation grew ever more dire.

10 minutes later

Tracer skidded to a halt inches from the edge of a cliff, leading down into a river some 60 feet below. "Now what?" he shouted to Omega.

"Give 'em both barrels. Let's show them what British fight looks like!" He barked back, as he laid into each Omnic with a well-aimed shot into the faceplate of each. Even with the most precise aim, however, they were quickly running out of ammo and, if anything, the Omnics seemed to grow in number. Their weapons clicked empty.

"Oh bugger. Now what?" Tracer screeched at Omega as they hid behind a rock, with bullets whistling overhead.

"Working on it!"

A plasma burst smacked into the rock, wiping it out and sending the pair sprawling perilously close to the edge.

He drew his pistol.

"Ready?"

"Are you out of-" she never finished the sentence, as another burst thudded into the ground, sending the pair ragdolling into the air. As they fell, Omega fired one round from his pistol, clipping the plasma tank of a nearby Omnic and wiping out a dozen or so in the ensuing explosion.

They got the Cliffside before the water, causing numerous injuries and knocking the pair out. Luckily, they had landed face-up in the river and didn't drown.

0720 hours local time.

20 miles West.

Winston frowned at the display as the group of ships closed on Tracer and Omega. The tracker from Omega's beacon had been active so far, giving the team an easy fix on their location. For some reason, though, it had cut out. As they needed the last known location before the beacon stopped broadcasting, the problem became obvious.

Oh Christ no, Winston thought as the gunships cleared out the remaining Omnics, I hope they aren't buried under that pile of tin.

The dropship set down 10 metres or so from the cliff. Reyes ordered half his team to sweep the cliff for signs of the pair while the rest covered. A few minutes later, the full story was becoming apparent: the magazines strewn everywhere told the story of some hell of a last stand. "Obviously ending behind what was left of this rock,"Reyes continues as he explained the events told by the items found, "the marks by the cliff seem to show them being thrown their after their cover was destroyed by this plasma round," pointing at the scotch marks on one side of the rock. "If anything, I think they-"

"Landed in the river! Of course! That explains the beacon not being picked up." Winston cried out, as the epiphany struck him. "Get your men back on board, Gabe, we're going fishing!"

Brazil. 40 miles downstream.

3 hours later

0920 hours local time.

Tracer came to coughing and retching on the bank of the river. Good God that water is horrid. She glanced around, trying to understand her situation. As she went to stand up, a bolt of pain sjot through her leg, causing her to collapse back onto the ground with a cry of pain. She checked herself over.

Leg seems broken. Right arm isn't doing much better. Chest's been cut open. *Ow! * that cut must be where I got hit on the way down to the river.

Content she was still alive and in reasonable condition, her mind turned to her partner. She saw him, a few yards away. At first, he seemed okay.

Except that he had something sticking through his chest and didn't seem to be breathing.

She panicked. Oh shit. He better hadn't be dead...

She crawled across to him, gritting her teeth to fight back against the agony of jangling her broken leg.

"Ryan? Ry? Wake up!" She hit him on the shoulders, trying to rouse him. After what seemed like an hour, he coughed as his eyes flicked open.

"grah!" he groaned in agony.

"Look, you've got something in your torso. I-I think it needs to be pulled out."

He parried her hand as she moved towards the shard of metal protruding from her. "N-no. It's fine. Really."

"Fine? That could kill you if it's left there!"

He smiled, replying "Nope. It missed anything important on the way in. It's only going to make me leak a little bit. If you pull it out, it might catch something. And then, big trouble."

"But..."

"No. I've got other injuries. Too many to fix without..."

"Oh. Right." Tracer rolled over onto her back, resting her head against his.

"So... I take it we aren't going anywhere soon?"

He huffed a laugh briefly, "Nope. Just gonna lay here and watch the world go by."

Tracer's eyes widened somewhat, as a thought crossed her mind.

"What... what if-?"

"Talon gets to us first? Well, I've got a few cyanide capsules. Either that, or a become their playthings again."

"How do you know about that? Wait, never mind. Your previous job."

"Hm. And before you ask, Talon did have their way with me once before. I think Ms Indigo, or whatever you call her, enjoyed that. What's the bet she's into that kinda thing?"

Tracer blushed slightly and remained silent.

"I see... you're into that as well as she is, eh?"

She squeaked slightly. "Erm..."

He chuckled softly. "Don't worry, I won't tell. Except Maybe Winston. And maaybe that cowboy mate of yours... McCree."

"Don't you-"

"I'm kidding. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to take a nap." He chuckled. "Babysitting you is exhausting." At that, his chuckle broke into a full-on laugh.

"Oy! I'm not that bad!", Punching him in the chest in fun.

"Ow! Ow! Ribs!" He grimaced. That hurt a bit.

"Shit. Sorry."

"It's fine. Now, how about that nap?"