Hanzo Shimada. Age 38, 1.72 meters, 74.843 kilograms, mesomorph body. Right-handed. Bow user.
The dying light of the sunset glints off the wing of the transport just beyond her black leather window seat, and her hazel-green eyes shift away to avoid the glare. The information that her superiors provided is Widowmaker's new mantra, constant and soothing as she observes the snowy mountain range miles below.
Mastery of long and medium ranges, weak against close range combat. Lethal target, proceed with caution.
She is pleased that the Cairo mission did not affect her assignment in Nepal. Rude as he is, Reaper has influence within Talon that most do not have. Slip-ups and changes of plan on his part are often overlooked, and by extension, so are hers when she is partnered with him.
While her superiors didn't bat an eye at her shortcomings, her doctors, however, were a bit displeased.
She cannot recall her first meeting with them, but she knows they were among the few faces she saw after assassinating her first target (her late husband Gérard Lacroix) and that they've been with her ever since. The beginning of every day that Widowmaker is on base is devoted to their prodding needles and pressing fingertips. They monitor her reflexes, her vitals, her core temperature, making sure that her body is at peak performance (the latter most is to make sure she does not develop hypothermia from her slowed heart rate, which has already caused her skin to turn blueish purple from the over abundance of deoxygenated blood). When it is not, they treat Widowmaker accordingly: electrodes to stimulate muscle groups and nerves, adjusting the pacemaker responsible for her slowed heart rate, layers of thermals to keep her at a functioning temperature, and the like.
They are proud of their work - her body, their living weapon - and they do not appreciate when such preventable harm comes to it.
"Do be more careful in the future, lest you become a pincushion next time," one of her two primary physicians, Matheo, had chided as he made quick work of her wounded leg, his face as blank as it always was. He is one of a handful people that she permits to touch her; all others are shot for such a trespass. "I'd hate to see you marred further by recklessness."
Widowmaker did not tell him how it was her mind's wandering that injured her, not her recklessness, for it is a mistake she can fix without their questions and evaluations. If she cannot have absence of thought like she used to, she can adapt. She will allow her mind to wander as it wishes when it does not matter - rides to objectives and targets, off work time, during physical examinations or waiting for them - so that her mind can be silent when she needs it to be. Attempting to deny what she cannot control to begin with is a waste of effort.
And so for most of the trip thus far, she had allowed her mind to fixate itself on Ana. A part of her still asks herself: how? How did she survive a shot through the eye? That bullet should have pierced through the back of the socket into her skull… And yet, it did not. And now she has a sniper out there who can outdo her. Talon will lose the high ground against Overwatch if Ana goes back to her roots and joins them once more.
Reaper better have been right about letting them live another day.
Her thoughts flit from Ana back to Hanzo and her mantra. Former Shimada clan leader. Eldest of two brothers. Only living relative is Genji Shimada.
Genji. Mercy had found him just months before she became a Talon agent, she recalls, his body torn and broken and his voice hoarse and fading. Parts of him were not even discernible, they had been mauled and maimed that badly. She remembers how Dr. Ziegler had poured her entire being into keeping him alive, from the time she and the rest of the team had found him in Hanamura all the way up through finishing finalizing his new exterior. Widowmaker had brought her tea and food to keep the other woman going, made sure she got rest…She'd been at her side whenever she needed it, taking night shifts to watch other the broken young man they'd brought in…
A throbbing in her temple forces her to cut the memory short.
That is the only boundary she must set for her mind: wandering to thoughts about her former life. They set her off kilter, make her feel sick. She cannot afford to become ill. Her time restriction does not allow for unplanned malaise. Her plane lands in 15 minutes and intercept time is approximately 25 hours. It is more than enough time for reconnaissance and elimination of prying eyes, but not enough for a blur of sickness with a potential long duration. She needs to be focused.
And so for the rest of the plane ride she tells herself Hanzo's profile over and over again, repeating the soothing information to herself to clear her mind.
Hanzo Shimada. Age 38. Lethal target, proceed with caution.
The rapid clicking of keys, however annoying at first, has become background noise for Jack Morrison. Ana's been at work for almost an hour, shoulders hunched and body leaned in so that her face is close to the screen. Her sight is not what it used to be, regardless of the fact she's missing an eye - but he's not one to talk. He can barely see without the enhancements his visor gives him. Gabe is the one he can thank for that.
No, not Gabe. Reaper. He is not the man Jack, now Soldier 76, knew him to be. And his heart is in agony over it.
Jack has a long memory, but he does not have one long enough to still be as furious as he was over what happened in Switzerland. Not enough to want to try and kill him again. It was wrong of both of them to even try, over something so goddamn stupid as a position of power. It was wrong of Jack to just forget about Gabriel Reyes, his best friend, and all the work he did to keep the clockwork of Overwatch ticking in time. But it is too late for apologies and admittances of past transgressions. If the trap outside of Cairo has shown him anything, it's that the only thing Reaper wants is every agents' blood on his hands. Vengeance is all he cares about, not reconciliation.
Jack's failures have cost the lives of fifteen of the men and women he had once called his family, and countless other, innocent lives so far. Gabe - Reaper - must die, as well as the rest of Talon. That is the only way this will all end. Ana is right; they need to finish what they started.
But is she right about Amélie?
This very question has been plaguing him for the last day and a half. Even if what Ana's found out in the ten years she's spent hunting "Widowmaker" down is correct, what if they cannot bring their former friend back? What if Talon has done irreversible damage to her mind? What if they fail to see who is in control - Widowmaker, or Amélie - again?
"Jack."
He's pulled from his thoughts at Ana's call back to the present: the smooth, stone walls with heavily chipped paint, the intense summer heat despite being indoors, the overwhelming scent of dust, and, as he turns his head towards her, the chair that Ana has her small laptop set up on with the missing leg. She waves him over; he notices she's pulled her hood down in the time he took to watch their surroundings and reflect, stray white hairs sticking her sweat dampened brow while the rest are tied back in a neat, winding braid.
"I'm in."
Soldier takes a knee next to her, gaze locked to the screen - the woman now known as Widowmaker stares him down. Ana's middle finger rolls the middle mouse wheel slowly, scrolling down. As his eyes fly across the lines of stolen information, Jack weighs the odds of whether or not what has happened to Overwatch's former friend and comrade, Amélie Lacroix, can be undone. In his heart, he says yes.
In his mind, as he reads the information alongside Ana with growing horror, he says it is impossible.
Large plumes of steam billow from her blue lips as Widowmaker trudges up the swiftly darkening cliff-side adjacent to the Monastery, still accumulating snow crunching beneath her heeled boots. The wind is bitterly cold here, but thanks to some extra layers her doctors had insisted upon and the warm meals of French onion soup and beef stew they'd sent with her, it cannot touch her as she retraces her steps from earlier in the day.
A new notification appears on her HUD as the cluster of residential buildings comes into view over the ridge: 23 minutes until target interception. Going off her current location, she concludes she will make it to the designated location with significant time to spare.
Perfect.
She could use this time for further reconnaissance, she thinks - and then Widowmaker reminds herself there is no need.
The village nestled in the crags near the monastery is fairly simple in design: three sections of residential buildings with slat roofs nestled together, with the middle sector having a large courtyard as some sort of communal area. Each section has three access points - the main entrances, one path to the upper right of the furthest two areas via stairs and snowy slopes, and the a ledge in the first sector that leads to the second - that offer no branch off routes. There is nothing else to explore here.
Fortunately, the new intercept time from that notification is scheduled to occur during evening meditation, so all the residents should be cleared out of the area. Escape routes will not be a concern if there is no one to corner her.
Funny, she thinks to herself, how the one who murdered Tekhartha Mondatta has been roaming about underneath the Shambali's noses without even being seen by the locals.
By the time she reaches the village, the sky has shifted from fading pinks and oranges to indigo and violet. Her gloved fingertips find their way to the tattoo on her right forearm absently at the sight of nightfall with a small, almost excited smile. Araignée du soir, cauchemar - A spider in the evening: nightmare. If things go well, perhaps Hanzo Shimada will be spared of the fate all others who've stumbled into her web always share. She secretly hopes that she gets the chance to feel alive today at Hanzo's expense.
As she scales the main building in the central sector to the perch she'd picked out earlier that afternoon - a walkway that goes around the entirety of the upper part of it - another alert flashes on her visor, demanding her attention: Unidentified target inbound. Threat level: medium.
Widowmaker immediately shoulders the butt of the Widow's Kiss as she props an elbow on her knee, steadying her gun as her infrasight activates. A red outline approaches from the first sector, and she follows its swift movement as it makes its way towards her. Tall in height, slim in frame, light in movement... She recognizes the gait immediately, the way the person turns with pinpoint precision and starts and stops their movement abruptly. Genji Shimada moved in a similar manner when she was tasked with supervising him on the practice range once. She remembers it well; Dr. Ziegler had asked her to do so because-
A sharp shake of her head banishes the memory. Irrelevant . All that matters is the similarity between the two people, and that is the fact that they both have Shimada clan training.
She'd accounted for this sort of situation when she'd first read the mission specifications: a still loyal Shimada member tracking Hanzo down. He must have been careless recently to allow not one, but two assassins to predict his movements and lie in wait for him. No matter; she will be the only assassin he sees in the end. Her objective does not allow for interlopers.
She steadies the gun in her hand, one eye closed as she aligns the cross-hairs with where she predicts the unwanted guest's head will be once he rounds the corner.
Un, deux, trois.
The black clad assassin falls to his left as the rest of his form comes into view. His body disturbs the bank of powdery snow that has been piling near trellis beyond the archway dividing the first and second sectors, a smear of charcoal against the beige cobblestones and white precipitate. And here she thought the members of the Shimada clan were supposed to be masters of their surroundings. This was who they sent to try and assassinate Hanzo Shimada?
She lowers her gun from her shoulder, cold, blue lips pulled back into a haughty sneer.
"Pathétique."
"I am in agreement. He was unworthy."
She whips her gun in the direction of the reply - behind - but she can see no one. They've hidden themselves in a blind spot.
Her eyes shift their focus from her surroundings to the HUD on her visor, seeking information about this unanticipated visitor.
The countdown to intercept time is frozen at 16 minutes and 21 seconds. Curious, for it to malfunction like this. But it does not matter what it did or didn't do; her objective has arrived.
Widowmaker carefully presses the manual "retract" button on her headpiece, and her sights pull away from her eyes.
"It seems your empire is fading, without your guiding hand, Hanzo Shimada. Such a shame," she remarks, her voice as smooth as silk.
Hanzo appears below her perch, emerging from her peripheral vision. His eyes are trained on her, as if he'd known her position long before he was able to see him. Bâclé, she scolds herself. This makes two missions in a row where her technique has been severely lacking.
"Of what concern is it to you?" He eyes her hawkishly. It is a fitting look for someone with such sharp features, she muses absently. "And it seems you are misinformed, whoever you are; it is no longer my empire."
"It could be, with Talon's help."
The eldest Shimada brother's face darkens. He does not seem keen on where this conversation is going, and that is just fine. Whether he likes it or not is of no interest to her.
"I do not care for leading those fools again. Leave me be," he growls, dark eyes narrowed at her from below. He turns to the entrance to the first sector in a single, fluid motion - a dismissal. She offers his back a cold smile, still crouched on the ledge above him. He is foolish to think that she will relent so easily.
"You would no longer have to live on the run like this, if we could reach an agreement." He starts walking away, one step, two... "Negotiations could be made, loyalties could be regained - Genji could be returned to you. Or put down for good, based off which fate you desire for him."
The bow user stops, head turning back towards her. She smirks; now she has his attention. The corner of Hanzo's mouth twitches, but he says nothing. His silence tells her all she needs to know: he is receptive.
"If there is anything else you desire, Talon would be glad to discuss your terms in further detail, monsieur." She rises to her feet in a nonthreatening manner, slowly allowing her gun to rest at her side. "All I need to know is if reviving your former clan is within the realm of your consideration."
More silence follows. They stare at one another, neither blinking nor fidgeting. His countenance: stoic. Hers: equally so. And they wait. And wait.
They wait for half a minute before Widowmaker is the one to give in, growing bored and impatient. She does not have all day to wait for an answer, and she cannot ask for it at a later time.
"I hate to press, but I'd prefer to have an answer to provide to my-"
A rapid beeping sound rings from the com in her left ear causes her to halt mid-sentence. Of its own volition, her sights snap back over her eyes, showing a red, glitching alert.
Warning: Two unidentified targets inbound. Threat level: high.
She frowns ever so slightly in confusion. The Shimada clan assassins are only supposed to show up under the medium threat category, considering her skill level compared with the common clan assassin. Then who…? Her frown turns into a scowl. No, she doesn't have to finish that thought. She can guess exactly who is en route.
Widowmaker should've killed Ana and Jack while he had the chance.
Her mission will be compromised once they reach her location. She cannot allow them to attempt to recruit Hanzo Shimada with the same promises she is offering him, what with his reluctance for crime. They could easily sway him.
It seems she will get what she was hoping for all along.
Widowmaker can feel Hanzo's increasingly exasperated gaze on her below as a plan takes form in her mind.
"Is something the matter?" Hanzo's voice is terse, biting. He is impatient.
Araignée du soir, cauchemar…
" We have some more uninvited guests," comes her airy reply. The eight eyes of her visor glow a vibrant red in the dark. "Shall we take this elsewhere, maître de dragons? Granted you are still considering, of course…"
A moment of hesitation on his part follows, but sure enough, he turns to face her in full again.
"I wish to speak more of this potential… agreement, with Talon," he rumbles warily.
Such a shame. If only he'd spoken up sooner.
"Allons-y. We don't have much time-" She looks up quickly, feigning urgency. "Behind you!"
Hanzo snaps his head to follow her gaze, and a wicked smile forms on her lips.
That is the last mistake he will ever make.
In a blur of motion, she lifts her arm to shoot one of her venom mines at his head. The sound of shattering glass and coughing echoes in her ears as Hanzo doubles over.
"A la vie, a la mort…" she whispers, as she aligns the crosshairs with his just barely visible head.
Un, deux-
"Lights out."
There's a sickening thwack as something heavy slams into the side of her head. She finds herself in moving forward… No, not moving, falling…
She whips her head in the direction of the attack; a red visor meets her gaze, expressionless. Jack.
She needs to get out of here. Now.
Widowmaker twists her body mid air so that she leads with her shoulder, managing to roll out of the fall as gracefully and efficiently as she can on it. As soon as her feet touch the ground, she pushes herself swiftly to her feet - and then she sprints ignoring the still doubled over Shimada brother as she passes him.
"I'm not done with you yet!" Jack's belligerent shout is followed the rapid ratatatata of pulse ammunition, and a primal part of her sends her cold heart beating just ever so slightly faster. I'd hate to see you marred further by recklessness … echoes the voice of her primary doctor in her mind.
Frankly, she would like herself in one piece as well.
She moves in haphazard patterns as she sprints for the first sector entranceway, zig-zagging to avoid the spray of gunfire, but it is in vain. Widowmaker grits her teeth together as several bullets manage to graze or lodge themselves in her back, her arms, her legs. If she cannot get herself out of the open, she will be gunned down and captured or executed. And she cannot afford to compromise Talon with leaked information or the loss of a valuable agent.
Desperate to speed up the process of her retreat, she flicks her wrist towards a building just past the entranceway to the left; her grappling hook finds purchase, and she begins to swing towards cover-
The sharp sting of a needle punctures the skin of her neck as her grappling hook pulls her to safety. Or at least, what she thought would be safety.
She grips the ledge and attempts to pull herself up, anticipating the little to no effect she'd experienced from the last dart Ana had shot her with. And then her head begins to reel, as if she were experiencing vertigo. What? She freezes, disturbed by what she's experiencing. The strength feels as though it is being sapped from her arms… she finds that she cannot even pull herself up onto the roof of the building.
Why is this affecting her so severely? Why aren't her immunities and resistances taking care of this?
If only she wasn't so… tired...
"Nap time, Amélie."
Widowmaker's arms give, and barely a moment into her descent, consciousness abandons her.