Chapter One

. . .

Canberra, Australia, 1978

If there was one lesson that moving down to his countries capital had taught him, it was that his ability to tolerate other people was just not going to improve. The Sniper had moved to Canberra just over four years ago, a little after RED had disbanded and left him without work. Not that he needed more work, he was rolling in money because of the years he'd spent fighting BLU, but he'd given more than half of his earnings to his parents. He wondered what they even done with all that money, as they never seemed to have anything new and still lived in the same dumpy little farmhouse they'd dragged him up in. He didn't care; they hadn't disowned him completely as he was expecting them to do, so maybe he'd managed to buy their affections, kinda. While his father still remained a miserable old miser, Snipers mother had wept tears of joy when he'd told her that he'd "quit" RED to "pursue better things". She still thinks he's a wallaby groomer.

Reality was, he'd done diddly-squat for the past five years except for the odd extended road trip. He'd got rid of his trusty old camper van and bought a new, shiny one. Truthfully, he knew it'd been a mistake the minute he traded the keys in, but … well, he was always getting grief about his old camper. She had a good long run "out with the old and in with the new" as they say. As he polished his beloved rifle, the Sniper silently apologised to her for not using her in so long. 'Sorry old girl' he'd thought as he watched her barrel shine as if she were new once again. It felt like it had been decades since he'd been able to do some good old fashioned snipin' work. He trembled with excitement at the thought of another job, recalling the euphoric boom of each and every headshot, the satisfaction of every kill shaking him to the core. Maybe his old man was right; maybe he was a bloody crazed gunman.

Brrriiiiiinnng!

"Auh, piss." He almost jumped at the sudden screech of the telephone that pulled him from his contemplation. He glanced over at the clock on the wall, 6:30pm, so his mother wasn't due to call him for another hour and a half, and she never called early.

Brrriiiiiiinnngg!

The really immature part of him wanted to ignore it and just pretend he wasn't home (like he'd have anywhere else to bloody be) why couldn't people get the hint – he didn't like them. Then again, if it was his mother calling early then something might have happened. Something bad. Setting down his rifle, Sniper answered the phone with an unenthusiastic mumble and only a slight hint of concern.

"Hello?"

"Uh, hi. This Mr Mundy?"

"Uh huh."

"Hi, uh, I'm - well, I suppose y'all know me best as the Engineer." The Snipers eyes shot wide.

"… Engie?"

"S'right stretch. How, uh, how you been pardner?" he sounded nervous. The Engineer didn't get nervous.

"Oh I've, um, been fine thanks. Yeah, been good. S'been a long time mate … what's goin' on?"

"There's been an accident."

"Oh?"

"Pyro's dead."

"…oh." They were both silent for a moment before the Texans soft drawl continued down the line.

"Memorials on Monday. Would be swell if y'all could make it down under, just us ol' REDs. Pyro didn't … y'know have anyone else." For a long moment Sniper didn't say anything. "Course … if y'all are too busy then-"

"No, no," Sniper interjected, finding his voice. "Course not, I'll be there mate. Just gimme the details."

After jotting down when and where the service was going to be the Sniper gave a brief goodbye to his old friend before hanging up. Engie and Sniper had always been on good terms, so the awkwardness of the whole phone call annoyed him a little. Then again Engie had been close to the Pyro, the closest on the team anyway, so his mind was probably elsewhere. Sniper himself hadn't known the Pyro very well despite having worked with him for five years. In fact nobody other than Engie really spoke to the masked man at all, if anything Pyro just intimidated them all. Even the lumbering hulk that was the REDs Heavy was a little scared of him. Nobody knew what the Pyro even looked like under that mask he always wore and they could hardly understand what he was mumbling on about due to it. Still, he was a RED and had fought alongside them and saved their hides from many a BLU spy on countless occasions. They owned him as much as attending his bloody memorial. Sniper poured himself a cup of strong coffee and leaned over his sink to stare out at the red sky.

"Ah, piss." He cursed under his breath as he realised that this meant he'd need to buy a suit.

. . .

The Engineer packed his suitcase as Arleen made his favourite dinner downstairs – Bacon and eggs of course - though he didn't have much of an appetite. He hadn't been to a funeral in almost twenty years, not since way back when he'd worked in the West Texas oilfields and his boss's wife had died. On the whole he'd been lucky, aside from his old man he'd never lost anyone else close to him as he'd never known his mother and was an only child. Technically speaking what they were having for Pyro wasn't a funeral per se, as there was no body to bury – apparently he'd been burnt to ash in the accident. The Engineer grit his teeth at the thought.

"I could come with you, you know." Arleen's soft voice pulled him back into reality as she appeared at the bedroom door.

"No, no." he hugged her gratefully. "As much as I hate to leave you alone, I'd rather have you here and safe, than with me and in harm's way."

"It's a memorial, not a war you're going to. What trouble can there be?" oh If only she knew.

"Heh, well trouble always managed to find its way to the boys in some shape or form. I have the utmost respect for them an all but, well … your safety is a risk I refuse to toy with darlin" He kissed her and she smiled, though somewhat sadly. She'd promised him that she'd never ask about what his job with RED had actually entailed, as he'd sworn he'd never tell her. But sometimes late at night while they lay together, she ran her fingers over the multitude of scars and burns that plastered his body and she felt a sting in her heart. What the hell had happened to her husband? The worst was his arm …

"I love you so much." He squeezed her protectively.

"I love you too." She squeezed back tightly, as her eyes began to water.

. . .

The next day at the airport Arleen had clung to him and peppered him with kisses, leaving his face looking very similar to a pepperoni pizza with all the lipstick marks she'd left. Would he call her every day? Of course dear. Would he eat alright? Of course dear. Did he pack his tooth brush? Of course dear.

It pained him to do it but he was eventually able to pry his beloved Arleen from him and board the plane, finding himself on his way to meet a team of hired killers he'd not had the pleasure of working with for over five years. It was only then that he realised his friend Pyro wasn't going to be among them. He was dead.

"Oh boy…" he sighed and leaned back in his chair as the plane rumbled to life and took off. The chatter of the other passengers died down as the planes massive engines roared beneath them.

The last time he'd seen Pyro was on that last day, they'd shaken hands and shared the usual pleasantries "was a pleasure workin' with you buddy" and "Don't be a stranger if y'all' are ever in town, pardner". Deep inside, all nine men suspected that they would probably never see each other again, but they'd never considered that out in the real world, they could actually die. No respawining in the infirmary and no more quick fixes courtesy of the Medic. Pyro was dead, and he wasn't coming back.

The rest of the plane journey was completely silent to the Engineer despite the noise that surrounded him.

Perhaps it was because his mind was on other things, but before he knew it, the Engineer was sitting on a dumpy bed in a worn out hotel room in the middle of nowhere with his luggage discarded at his feet. Tomorrow was Sunday and the rest of his former team would be arriving at the hotel for the memorial on Monday, but before that the Engineer wanted to pay the police who'd found what was left of his old fire-loving friend a visit. He set his alarm for 6:30am though he woke up fifteen minutes earlier. The absence of Arleen caused his sleep to be more disturbed, not least because the mattress felt like it was made from solid rock. 'Sleep well, sir' my ass.

He was able to rent an old van from a nearby garage for very little money, well, little money to a man who was currently loaded with the stuff and so off he went to the next town to see the boys in blue, grinning bitterly at that thought.

Upon arrival at the station the Engineer introduced himself with his real name and spoke to the officer that had called him up the other day about the fire. Apparently Pyro had come home drunk one night and began to cook, only to fall asleep. By the time the fire brigade had got there, the whole house was engulfed. He'd left a short will; the sole instructions held in it were that if he were to die, they were to inform the Engineer. Nothing was left behind and no other names were mentioned. Just a name and a phone number – his good ol' friend Engie.

After the officer who'd first seen him was called away to deal with something more important than this Texan stranger, a younger officer was sent to deal with him and his questions.

"The doctor said your, uh, friend died from smoke inhalation during the accident. My condolences for your loss sir, but as my colleague explained, there was barely a body there to give you for burial."

"I understand, son. Any chance y'all could give me the address?"

"Sure thing, I'll just get it for you."

As the officer went about retrieving what he needed, the Engineer frowned and scoped around the office with narrow eyes. It just wasn't right. When the young officer returned, he had a box in his hands.

"Listen, because your friend didn't leave anything behind we were told just to destroy what we brought in for evidence once we found no indication of foul play. But, well, you've flown all the way up here sir, so … here." The Engineer took the box, bobbing it in his hands to gauge the peculiar weight and raising an inquisitive eyebrow. "It's not much but, it was the only thing left intact."

Back in the dumpy van, Engie placed the scrap of paper with Pyros address into his pocket and opened the box, pulling out the contents to hold up before his face. He snorted, though It brought a sad sort of smile to his face. The Pyros old gas mask - its eyes still as dark and lifeless as always, and it was in pretty bad condition compared to how much care the Pyro had once treated it with. The Texan was surprised at just how light it was. It was almost as if he was staring his old friend in the face once again.

"Don't worry little buddy," whispered the Engineer "I'll find out what happened to ya."

. . .

"Hey truckie."

Rubbing his sleepy eyes as he left his hotel room on Monday morning, the Engineer already knew who had approached him before he'd turned around due to that distinctive, gruff voice. "S'good to see ya again ol' friend."

"That it is," Sniper shook his friends hand and patted him on the shoulder in a gesture of condolence. "puttin' on the beef though, ain't ya?" Quick to break the ice, the Australian hadn't changed much. At his remark the Texan laughed deeply and rubbed his own belly.

"Better to have more than less, stretch." They shared menial banter for a few minutes until a cab pulled up and two men got out of the back. One was instantly recognisable as the Soldier – crazy bastard still wore his helmet. Despite being in his mid-fifties by now he really hadn't changed at all, and he gave them both a firm salute in a characteristic greeting which they both returned with a smile. Everyone knew soldier was mad, but he'd been a presence that they were truly grateful for back in the day because with his madness came a fearlessness that surpassed even Heavy's. Beside him though, was a young man who the Engineer almost didn't recognise. Then, like the Sniper, his tell-tale voice gave him away immediately.

"Yo, what's up? Coulda picked a nicer place for the service hardhat, lookat dis dump!"

"S'nice to see you too, string bean." The Scout had been but a teenager back when they'd first met in '68, but that was ten years ago. He was still a lean lad, but less skinny now and his face was less youthful looking, hell the kid even had some stubble. If the Engineers calculations were correct – and they were very rarely wrong – Scout must be turning twenty-nine soon. He chuckled at the thought and gave the young man a hearty clap on the shoulder. The four of them stood quietly for a minute, trying to re-familiarise themselves with each other's presence.

"Another good man down." announced Soldier. "Where are we burying Smokey Joe?"

"Burials out of the question I'm afraid, apparently there's nothin' to bury. This is just a memorial." Soldier nodded, turned sharply on his heels and then marched towards the hotel room behind the Engineer, assuming that it was his and that he could make himself at home until sorting out his own room. Scout followed quickly behind.

"Hey man, it's freakin' freezin' out here, s'wait for the others inside."

Over the course of the evening the other former REDs began to arrive and unlike the Scout, the rest hadn't changed that much as far as appearances went. Demoman was drunk when he arrived, as was expected, and he and Soldier were the first to greet one another. Despite having been so close while they'd worked together for RED, they hadn't seen each other in the five years since being disbanded, so the pair chatted away excitedly about various events that had happened to them while nobody else dared to interrupt them. They were kinda hard to understand anyway.

The Medic arrived at roughly seven o'clock that night, sporting a smart jacket and a grim expression from his long travels from Germany. The good doctor had reached the ripe age of fifty, and his formerly jet black hair was now a silvery grey colour, though it was still styled neatly as he'd worn it five years ago. He greeted the Engineer warmly and was the first (and only) of the mercs that was able to recognise the Scout before the lad managed to open his mouth.

The last to arrive was Heavy, who'd flown in from Russia. His age was far more evident upon closer inspection and despite being a year younger than his German team mate, Heavy appeared much older than him with dark bags hanging under his eyes. He was still extremely muscular, but like the Engineer he'd also put on a little extra beef. It was surprisingly unnerving to see him without Sasha – his trusty mini-gun. He offered a big, friendly smile as he patted the Engineer on the back.

"Is good to see team again!"

"Sure is big guy. Looks like that's ever'one too."

"Hey hey, where's the Spy?" Scout inquired as he opened a can of boink (some old habits never die) his bright blue eyes flickered between the faces of the other men.

"fraid I didn't speak to him son, no way of contactin' him. It's like he jus' disappeared off the face of the planet but then, I'm sure that was his intent." The Engineer shrugged. "Y'all know him though, very private-like, sure Spah wouldn't have come even if I had called." It was a sad fact, but it was a true one at that.

That night the six newest arrivals booked their own hotel rooms and bid their former team mates goodnight. The memorial was tomorrow and the Engineer was sure it would be followed by a mad night of drinking and reminiscing about the old days, probably a fight or three too. Still, he tossed and turned as he thought about everything that had happened these past two days. As he lay there with his mind racing at a hundred miles per hour he suddenly heard a ringing in his ears. Sighing heavily, he sat up in his hard bed, rubbing his arm and rolling his shoulder back. As his arm and spine began to tingle uncomfortably, he conceded that he was getting no sleep tonight as he pulled a piece of paper out his side drawer and began to write.

. . .

I'd just like to say a big thank you to everyone who has followed and reviewed so far, I honestly wasn't expecting such a positive response to my prologue, I'm more grateful to you all than I can even say. I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and that those that follow do not disappoint - Des