Chapter 2: The Jump
"The test failed again. I can't get her to materialize in one spot. She's moving through space like energy, but randomly condensing and dissipating. Sometimes I can hear her begging for help, repeatedly. Sometimes all I can hear are her cries. I can't give up. I'll find a way to bring her back. I won't stop until I do."
The Oxton Retrieval Project reports, Winston, Day 64, Page 1
Tracer did the last button on the labcoat. It was a little big for her, with the sleeve stopping just at her fingertips. "My disguise feels a little bit overdone," she said, wagging the sleeves at him before rolling them up to her wrists.
"People here live with their faces buried in notes and last thing they'll notice is your sleeves. The bigger problem will be the scanning systems. It can identify a person by scanning their breath."
Tracer stopped dead in her tracks and rested her hands on her hips, "and how are we supposed to get past my breathing problem? I do it a lot, you know."
Tesla gave a nervous smile, "we should be okay. I have magnetic field that will confuse the the surveillance and any bot we come across. But you'll need these,"he said and shoved a pair of funny looking sunglasses at her.
She slipped them on. Surprisingly, nothing got dimmer. The darkening effect was one way. "These are?"
"A special set of sunglasses that will confuse the facial recognition algorithms of the surveillance bots. Took forever to perfect."
She eyed him a moment, ignoring all the questions as to why he needed this to be made, and then she sighed. "You sure you want to go through with this. I'm not exactly liked around here." Apart of her had hoped that Oasis hadn't fall in with the rest of nations in Overwatch's worldwide ban, but apparently it did. Sometime she'd have to look at which country she legally could do good work in.
"Look, it's complicated. But yes, I'm sure. We just need to get to a platform on the mid level. I keep my wheels there and I've messaged someone I trust who's going to keep the engine warm for us." And he walked off down the hallway without another word. This bloke sure had a way of exiting conversations at maximum irritancy, but he was her ticket out of here. She swallowed her pride and followed.
They were on the verge of running. Tesla, from that point, had acted very oddly. Ever since pulling whatever in the world it was from the pedestal like device, the bloke treated it like some unholy relic that would burst into flames at any moment. Nonetheless, he agreed to get out of the city, but not go with her beyond that
The thought gave her a cringe. She had made the offer to join her on a sudden impulse she couldn't explain. It could have been that he hadn't killed her when he had the chance, or his apparent skill with his abilities. It may just be that he seemed like an alright guy. Well, now he seemed like a bit of a jerk, but she'd seen worse. Still, she saw something there that didn't fit with the image of Oasis that she had always imagined, which was an image of snobs and bureaucrats for anyone that cared to know. But Tesla gave off a touch of humble melancholy. She wondered why.
They turned down several more corners, elaborate ones decorated with a daft amount of technological wonders. A little much for just a few hallways, but she could see Winston doing the same thing if he had a place big enough with enough things to deck it with. Which he did, actually, and he had. Guess it was a very scientist thing to do.
They entered an elevator and began to descend. Tracer wasn't sure why she made the offer to him earlier, but in her years of missions and meeting people from all walks of life, he had that kind of vibe. Something about the way he stopped the fight as she did. The way he reacted with a slight tinge of humor after having been slammed by a flying yellow jumpsuited woman. That near ruined anyone's day, but he shrugged it off.
She timed a quick glance at him, measuring his build. He wasn't terribly gangly. His face had soft features and with sharp blue eyes lined by silver spectacles. His black hair was a bit of mess, but it seemed to have the sort of style that came from sleeping under a hair dryer. His age was probably close to hers, above or below, but too hard to tell.
"You been here long?" she said, trying to sound casual. Eventually she would lead these questions to the item in his pocket that apparently was worth more than the whole city of Oasis. But she have to be tactful and patient.
"A while," he said shortly, his hands nervously thumbing together.
She eyed him a moment more. "What's the thing in your pocket?" she asked flatly. She wasn't that patient.
"A thing," he said just as flatly.
"Eh, a bit of a smart alic, are we?" she said, smiling.
"Well if I was sounding like a chipper leprechaun all the time, I might be a little more straightforward like you."
She burst out laughing, which made him jump with surprise. "Blimey, you got a tongue on you, don't you." she said, pushing his shoulder with a fist.
He seemed pretty shocked. "You're not exactly giving me the reactions I keep expecting," he said, his eyes dazed for just a moment, fading off somewhere else, but she noticed just the smallest shake of his head before turning his gaze back to the descending numbers above the elevator door. "Mostly blank stares or exasperated breaths are all I get. It's refreshing, is all I'm saying."
She nodded to herself with satisfaction. She did have a certain flare of recognizing good humor, even if it was aimed at her. "Can't help it. Why do you not like being here?"
He frowned, "I like being here."
"Nah, you don't."
"Yes, I do. This place is my home. Have you seen my room? Wait, don't answer that."
"You got this look in your eyes. I've seen it before," she said, her voice growing a little soft before she caught it. That look in his eyes haunted her. It was one she saw nearly every day, no matter how hard she tried to hide it, when she looked in the mirror. Nothing a well practiced smile and chipper tone couldn't fix, at least most of the time.
"Could you stop staring at me like that?"
"Like what," she asked.
"Like you're staring at me with an X-ray."
She grinned and shrugged, "So you're not denying that you don't like it here."
He nodded defeatedly and sighed, "Like I said. I've been here a while. Wanting to leave isn't all that weird."
The elevator hummed a moment more before the doors rang and slid open. Just on the other side was an exciting number of well dressed and moderately armed men and women. Dozens of white and blue uniformed men holding pistols stood at the door, accompanied by two floating bots with a single massive eye for a face.
"Oy, the weight limit is 500 Kilos. Gunna have to wait until the next one I'm 'fraid," she chortled.
They all lifted their small pistols. "Lena Oxton, you're under arrest for performing illegal activities. Your organization's authority is restricted and banned here," the front man said.
Tesla tilted his head. She hoped this wouldn't be something she wouldn't have to explain now. Turns out she was in luck.
All of their weapons began aiming away from her and him. A mixture of confused looks began popping up among their faces as they tried to pull the guns back, but with noticeable difficulty. Tesla grunted to her right, and she glanced at him to find him braced against the wall of the elevator, breathing heavily and perspiring.
"Holding back that many arms is, admittedly, a little difficult. Help? But don't kill anyone!" he managed to say through clenched teeth.
"Right!" she zipped through the center, figuring she would explain at another less gun-pointy situation that she wasn't a murderer.
The air swirled around her as she zipped from person to person, throwing a leg out to trip one here, and smacking the guns out of the hands of another one there. It was a storm of movements, her body shifting into the open areas of those moving like turtles around her. She giggled as she tucked under one, slid under a second, and popped up next to a third to knock them all over like dominoes.
One by one as she knocked them down, the guns popped out of their hands, flying wildly down the hall out of reach thanks to Tesla. In less than a few seconds, they were all disarmed.
"'Fraid you all brought a gun to a time fight," she winked, and then noticed one of the guards visibly winced at her joke. "Oy, it ain't that bad."
"Nah, it was pretty bad," Tesla chimed in.
"Tesla, what are you doing?" one of the guards demanded. "Why are you aiding in this fugitive?"
Tesla stretched his arms as he walked out of the elevator and walked in between the men. Tracer noticed he seemed perfectly calm, despite their being completely outnumbered six to one.
"I'm not helping her," he said, "I'm helping me."
The guards, she noticed, seemed to shift uncomfortably. They moved out of his way as he walked. They respected him. There was a whole lot of storytelling needed to be done when the chance presented itself, but at the moment, she would take the break. It had been a while since she could just walk out with someone while being surrounded. Well, she actually had walked of plenty of situations, but this team she wasn't speeding up triple the normal flow of time to do it.
They began walking down the hall, and she saw the guards standing about awkwardly. The bots were spinning in place, looking very confused and perplexed, probably because of Tesla's odd magnetic abilities.
She had to be honest with herself. That was definitely the oddest fight she had ever encountered. Today was just getting better by the minute.
Ana sniffed the sweet herbal aroma as it drifted from her tea cup. The warm humid air dove into her lungs and warmed her chest in a way that no other drink achieved. Indeed it was ready.
She took a sip and set it down on the ledge beside her and then peered out over the city, one leg hanging over a two hundred feet drop. Now why she needed to bring tea on a several dozen floored building near the middle of Oasis was the wrong question ask. But how anyone could enjoy a glimmering sunset as it turned the sandy desert from a golden glow to a shimmering diamond landscape without tea to compliment it; that was the real question.
Her eye drifted, trailing from the sun up to the smoky trail left behind in the sky. That explosion from earlier was odd, in that the trail shot straight over the city in a fine arch right before it exploded, landing most of the debris outside and likely leaving nearly zero casualties except those on board.
To the common eye, it would have gone unnoticed. And despite all of Oasis' whiles of technology and wonder, it would have missed the most obvious flaws with it too. The explosion was too perfectly timed. It would be at this precise hour that most city's security would be changing shifts and going home while the new batch came in. It was clearly staged, at least to some degree. The most curious part was what came of it.
Her trained and enhanced eye gave her the ability to see small, fast moving objects with impossible precision, and it caught something that had nearly startled her off the edge of the building. Tracer had emerged from the explosion, falling. She had then awoken, corrected herself mid air, and crashed into the side of the Gilded Tower Hotel. Ana's instincts drove her to be patient and confirm her information, which is why she waited now, sipping tea and enjoying a rather lovely sunset. Tracer was a resilient soul. She would have survived the crash, Ana had no doubt. But the situation was about to get pretty hairy considering she is a extremely well known overwatch agent.
She stood up, feeling surprisingly fresh. She took another sip of her tea and turned her eye to the massive tower looming above. The Gilded Tower was truly an impressive accomplishment. The material and engineering must have cost a fortune, and it reminded her of home in some ways, when she would stare off at massive towers just after waking up to catch the sunrise.
The pleasant memory brought a smile to her lips accompanied by another bitter sweet sip of tea. That time had been so long ago, but she could remember it as clearly as though it had happened yesterday.
A ding hummed in her ear, and she rested one hand on her hip, feeling a fresh wave of warm air wash over her body from a desert breeze.
Her communicator crackled.
"Er- uh, miss, I'm not entirely sure- Miss uh," the synthetic voice stumbled over itself several more times through the radio.
"Ana will do, Blenn. Are you in position?"
"Nearly, Mistress," Blenn sizzled through the speaker. Ana chuckled softly to herself as she walked around the edge of the building and climbed through her hotel room window.
"Are you with him yet? Or her?"
The was a slight pause on the other end, "No. But I'm close! I could run fast if you'd like. Or perhaps jump a flight or two? Would you recommend?"
Ana set the teacup down. She grabbed a mask off the table and slid it over her face. As she did, the inside lit up, flickering, and then swallowed her vision. The world came to life with the slightest hint of blue. Little graphics popped up around the scene, noting objects of interest and displaying a map of the city.
"No, continue with the plan and meet me at the location as we discussed. I just need to know if it's true. Have you seen her?"
"No, I haven't, but there had been quite the commotion. Security is running about the tower, something about a fugitive loose in the hotel. I'm certain it's her."
She smiled as she opened the door and stepped out into the hallway. "Let's just hope they don't do anything too stupid before we catch up. Pick me up at the agreed location, after they get to you."
"Of course!" the robotic voice said from the other side before shutting off. With that, Ana grabbed a small satchel and headed out the door.
Tesla came to a stop, his heart pounding in his chest as he did. That was a one time thing. Whoever came next wouldn't just let him waltz on through like that group did, but it still left a strange thought at the back of his mind. Over a dozen officers came to deal with this woman. That was a lot of firepower. In his little duel with her upstairs, she might have been toying with him and now used him like some kind of chaperone through the hotel.
He could be helping a mass murderer or bank thief to escape and he wouldn't even know. What in the world was he getting himself into?
And yet, here she was smiling nearly every second that passed, looking like she wanted to pounce and hug someone rather than unload a round of bullets into their chest. Her demeanor flared like that of a friendly neighbor, not a grizzly thug. And more odd than anything else, he actually felt comfortable around her. Some part of him wanted to help her get out.
He shook the thought from his head. Looks can be deceiving. The sooner they got out of the city, the better. So long as he acted like they weren't enemies, she wouldn't be a threat to him, and they could probably both make it out okay. Though despite all this fugitive stuff, he had a hard time believing this woman capable of wanting to hurt anyone. Either way, it would be the city's problem, not his.
"They'll be coming after us," Tracer noted behind him.
Several bots flew overhead, their blue glowing eyes scanning the room. One stopped to stare at them, slowing just a fraction, and then sped on. He sighed with relief. The robots couldn't identify her with visual face recognition, but Tracer was right. The word would get out, and the robots wouldn't be just looking for Tracer, but for him too. Then it was game over. Fortunately it seemed like his secret little emp had done the trick in frying their communicators. The guards hadn't sent out the word, not until they got a hold of a new devices.
He looked back at her, and sighed. "I know," he said, "But what else can we do?"
She had a little smile on her face that gave him the urge to grunt, "What?"
"Well, I had a little thought," she said, bouncing up next to him excitedly. "You have those little macrola-"
"Microlatches,"
"Right, those things. Couldn't we just pop on over a window or something and fall down to the needed level?"
"Don't be redi-," he stopped himself. That actually wasn't a half bad idea. The microlatches could handle his weight hundreds of times over, thousands probably. He never ran the math exactly. But they could perceivably make a shortcut. "Alright, let-"
He grunted as a tall somebody slammed into him, forcing him to spin and land on his side. His fingers reflexively tightened around his metal arm cuff, ready for an attack, but was instead startled to find the Minister staring down at him, still standing and eyes wide. The man was walking stone wall.
"Goodness, my dear boy, are you alright?" the minister partially wheezed. He was holding a pad in his hand and Tesla figured the guy was too distracted to notice anybody.
He lept to his feet, dusted his sleeves, and gave his normal, apathetic smile. "No worries, minister, just taking a walk to cool off after the explosion."
The minister knew him too well to be fooled by Tesla's look. "Are you certain you're alright?" he said, clearing his throat. His eyes turned to Lena. "Who is this woman with you? And what is that thing on her face?"
Tesla's heart jumped a beat. Luckily the minister didn't recognize her right off the bat, but he could see through every lie, every deception Tesla has ever thrown at him. This fabrication had to be perfect and well crafted. No seam in his wording left without tight placement, or bending of the truth without the perfect degree of bending.
He opened his mouth.
An arm quickly slipped around his and tightened softly. "He's my boyfriend," Lena said, smiling sweetly at the minister.
Tesla nearly fainted.
"Ah," the minister said, nodding appreciatively. "I'm glad to see you're decompression techniques have since improved from brooding to dating. A significant improvement at that. Does your mother know?"
He nearly gagged. The minister was buying it, and who asks that kind of question in front of a date anyway? "Nope," he said through a throat that had become very dry. "Not yet."
The minister shook his head and turned to Lena. "You tell this boy to message his mother.
She hardly knows a thing going on in his life. Well, best be on my way. Now I know why you were so quick to cut the communication early, Tesla." The older man gave him a wink that cued every gag reflex in Tesla's body. He didn't even know the minister had the motor skills to wink.
The minister waltzed off with a new grin that Tesla wasn't sure he liked.
"Well, quite the kerfuffle you've found yourself in, wouldn't you say?" Lena said, chipper than than a dog who had just received a treat.
"Please," he muttered, "don't try and mess up my personal life too much. He's going to tell my mother."
"Ooo, afraid mother might come calling as to why you've started dating a," she dropped her voice to the softest whisper of mock caution and leaned in to say, "fugitive?"
He chuckled. That was a first. He hadn't chuckled like that in some time, not since back when life was still something fun to think about.
"Oy," she said, releasing her arm and giving him a playful punch to the shoulder, "I do the chuckling around here."
He smothered the smile and shook the weird warming in his chest. No matter how personable this girl appeared, he wasn't going to drop down his guard. He wasn't that stupid. Something about her still bugged him and it would stand out eventually. That smug look of confidence, the extreme interest in science, and her general happy-go-lucky attitude seemed too familiar to ignore.
It was never too late to do some investigating. "Come on, let's get to a study balcony over here. It'll let us drop down to the travel platform."
They quickly forced their way through two large glass doors onto a fairly large deck with tables laid out. Closed parasols decorated the tables along with a set of dining wear. The place would mostly likely play host to a party or presentation soon.
Tesla rushed over to the edge and peered over. He was right. What's new there?
The open garage for this flying vehicle was just below. "I can see it," it'll only take me a second to set up," he lied. He could make the whole jump in a second, but he wasn't in any particular rush. The security officers were after her, not him, after all.
"So why are you a fugitive?" he asked, looking up at the wall above the door. There was enough ferrometals there that he wouldn't need a microlatch, but he began fiddling with his cusp just for show.
Lena shrugged, "Honestly don't know," she said. That relieved him a bit. "I guess probably because of some of the things I've done, or I guess we've done in the past. Not every country is happy with our involvement in things right now. Can't say I entirely blame them. We don't have a perfect track record, not at all, but that's not really what we're all about. We have hearts we have to listen to, and ours tells us to do something about what's wrong in the world."
A chill started settling on Tesla's chest. That sounded too familiar.
"I guess," she continued, "we've tried a little too hard for some people, or we got a little too big." She gave a quiet, soft chuckle. "But we can't stop. Even after being disbanded, some of us just have to try. It's in our blood." She turned to face him and nearly jumped.
She saw it now, the cold look of anger and despair twisted all about his face. He couldn't hide it and he didn't want to, because he wanted her to see it in full force. There was something about this woman that he actually liked, that seemed real unlike the plague of artificial pleasantries that filled his life. But she turned out to be the biggest, least sincere thing of them all. It bit him at his very core.
"You're Overwatch," he said in a near whisper.
Her eyes didn't break from his. "Yes," she said.
A gentle, warm wind blew across the large balcony, carrying with it a spittle of sand from some far off dune.
"Why are you here?" he asked, surprised at the sound of his own voice. It growled like rocks in a meat grinder.
"I get the feeling you're not a fan."
"WHY are you here?" he nearly yelled.
"Reasons."
He scoffed, "Yeah, I bet."
A yell came from beyond the doors. Something clattered and a rush of footsteps could be heard. They had found them. Tesla stepped up onto the balcony edge and looked down at the landing below.
"Well, good luck with those," he said before falling backwards off the ledge, wishing he could scream until his throat bled as he fell. He was doing the right thing, he knew he was. A dog of the Overwatch agency deserved no more help than murderer. And yet, his stomach immediately twisted into a knot as she disappeared over the lip of the balcony.
Thanks for reading! I'm nearly done writing the first draft to chapter three and it'll be posted by next Saturday. That's the schedule I plan to keep to.
Well, hope you're enjoying the story! See you next week.