"Boom!" With a loud whoop, the young man sprang to his feet and pumped his fists in the air. "Haha, bet you didn't see that one comin!"

"Huh. You are correct." On the other side of the table, his companion, a colossal man wearing a similar red uniform, scratched his bald head as he contemplated the board. After a few moments, he delicately picked up his queen between two sausage-like fingers and moved the piece into position directly opposite Scout's king. "Misha would never think of move like that…because it was stupid."

"Wait, what!"

"Misha did not get his PHD for nothing." Heavy drained the last of the coffee he had been drinking and stood up from the table. "Besides, I have had enough."

"Yeah? What are you, scared of losing?"

"Nyet, bored of winning." Heavy gestured towards the other side of the room. "Soldier will give you turn, if you ask nicely. Soldier?"

In response, a pile of what Scout had assumed to be rubbish stacked in the corner of the maintenance shed began to move, eventually disgorging a figure wearing a battered red coat and a cracked metal helmet. By the light of the single lightbulb overhead, Soldier looked wildly from Scout to Heavy, mouth agape as if he didn't quite remember who they were or where he was. Scout recognised the look; Soldier had just returned from another of his marathon 'patrols' of the area around the dam, where he walked for days without food and water in search of enemies who usually attacked the base during his absence. Nobody asked him to head out, but he did anyway, at least once a week.

"What…what? Games! I don't have time for games…you're supposed to be on watch, guarding the camp! Wake me at 17:00, and I'll take over. Back to your posts! Back…to…" No sooner had he sprung to attention, Soldier collapsed back into his nest of discarded blankets and raccoon leather, and was already snoring before the dust settled back on top of him.

"Jeez, forget it. Dumb game anyway." As he spoke, one of a dozen rotary telephones arranged on the desk next to him began to ring. Scout rolled his chair over and picked up the receiver.

"Hey-hey, Sniper. Havin fun up there? 'Cause we're havin a great time down here. Ain't that right, fellas?"

"Quit your jawing. You boys have company. Scout listened as the Australian performed a quick count from his sentry position on the dam wall. "Machines, looks like a raiding party. No more than fifty bots. They're trying to sneak in through the canyons...again."

"Again? You sure?"

"I can't see them at the moment, but I can bloody well hear them, noisy buggers."

Scout sighed. "That's like the third time since we got here. Can't they go get some Australium someplace else?"

"Chop-chop, mates. I'll let you know if I see anything else."

The line went dead. Scout jumped up from his seat and moved over to the row of lockers mounted by the door. A sawn-off shotgun, a steel softball bat, and a can of energy drink went into his knapsack, while Heavy picked up his minigun and a belt of ammunition.

"Actually, does anyone else know where the hell this Australium is? It might make it easier to keep the Administrator's stuff safe if she actually told us where she's hidden it."

Heavy gave the barrels of his minigun an experimental spin. "Not important. If we protect every building, we don't have to know where it is to keep it safe."

The North Badlands hydro plant was a sprawling complex of workshops, warehouses, and plant equipment, covering both the rim of the dam wall and down below on the floodplain. A week spent jogging around in the heat, searching the empty buildings for small groups of robots wasn't exactly Scout's idea of fun, but the Administrator was being pretty generous payment-wise for this assignment. As usual, asking questions when she was involved was a waste of time.

"Eh, seems fair." Scout adjusted his headset. "Did you open the door just now?"

"It was Soldier. He is already outside."

Weapons at the ready, the two mercenaries jogged out of the maintenance shed into the sweltering New Mexico desert. It was only midday, but the sun was already unbearably hot. On the edge of the industrial park was a large warehouse, and as Scout and Heavy drew near they could hear the sounds of battle. Soldier's point of entry was a large burnt section of panelling on the roof of the building, but Heavy and Scout decided to simply enter through the unlocked roller doors.

The first robot Scout saw was a spindly-looking thing built to resemble Sniper. It had just enough time to point and wave in his direction before Scout blew it apart with a well-placed shotgun blast. Two more appeared at the open doors on the other side of the warehouse, but before they could nock arrows to the bows they were holding, Heavy cut them down from afar.

Meanwhile, Soldier was holding off a dozen or more robots in a large pool of stagnant water that had formed in the centre of the floor. He had discarded his rocket launcher – and some of his clothes – and was grappling with the machines, cackling to himself as they scattered before him.

"Mwaahaha! You ladies call that a punch! Huttah!" The head of a robotic Demoman bounced off the rafters. "Now that's how a real American throws a punch!"

More bots appeared from outside, but many of them were weaponless, or armed with shovels and digging tools instead of guns. When his scattergun ran dry, Scout switched to his bat, charging into the crowd and laying out machines left and right. Within a few minutes, the last of the robots had been reduced to scrap, filling the air inside the warehouse with the smell of cordite and burnt circuitry. The mercs immediately set to work with their hands and tools, prising open the money furnaces that powered the bots in the hopes of saving some banknotes.

Scout tapped his headset. "Sniper? We've cleaned up the bots. Piece of cake, as usual. You want us to-"

"Oh, my God! My arms are glowing!"

Soldier was staring, slack-jawed, at his hands. For a moment, Scout thought he may have torn the stitching that kept them attached during the fight, but as he watched the entrenching tool he was holding began to shudder. Faint tendrils of blue electricity began to sparkle over the metal, spreading up Soldier's arm to form a crown of lightning on his helmet. Heavy gave a surprised grunt as his minigun began to crackle with electricity, and when Scout looked down at his scattergun he could see the St Elmo's fire beginning to race up the twin barrels.

"Huh…something is different."

"Aww, jeez! What is it, some kinda weapon?"

"Merasmus! Get out here so we can kick your spectral arse!"

The three mercs backed away from the edge of the pool as the lightning began to criss-cross the surface of the water. As the phenomenon began to gather strength, the bodies of the robots scattered around the warehouse began to shudder, slowly being pulled into the centre of the room by glowing tendrils of electricity. Scout shrank back against the wall as the intensifying lightning threatened to reach out and touch him.

Then, with a terrible crescendo of blue electricity that licked at the ceiling of the warehouse and made Scout's teeth rattle in his jaw – the room suddenly fell still. The turbulent pool became instantly calm, and the blue illumination faded away. For a moment, silence settled as the three mercs cautiously rose to their feet and dusted themselves off.

"Men! Report! How many wounded?"

Heavy gingerly touched the metal handle of his minigun. "I am unharmed, Soldier. Scout?"

"Whew. Guess it was nothing. I don't know what you two were so afraid of, but I'm not the kinda guy that gets fri-"