Author notes: You know how I said there'd be action? I lied. Big showdown comes later, until then enjoy more lonely Engie and mysterious discussions with BLU.
This chapter was hard to write, it's pretty dialogue heavy and not much happens, instead revealing a few tidbits of knowledge, clues to the whole circumstances leading to this point and some confirmation (sort of). Should be another chapter, maybe two, before the battle at Teufort. And after that? Well, that'd be telling, wouldn't it? ;P
My thanks again to GothicCheshire for being a semi-beta for me.
Chapter 6: Countdown and Confirmation
A single hand clatters furiously at a console, the hand's owner making grunts to himself at certain intervals. This continues for a few minutes until the Engineer suddenly slumps and collapses into a nearby chair. The communication room becomes silent once more as he fumbles for the slip of paper he'd placed on the table nearby. It had took him a little while to remember how to operate some of the lesser used machines in this room and he was thankful that he'd spent the time to learn how to use them in the first place. He'd used them in the past to check supplies, communicate with HQ and help with some trickier calculations regarding some of his half-finished inventions he made in his spare time.
Now though? Now it served a more morbid purpose. He'd checked and double checked both the respawn system and the status of his teammates, stubbornly clinging onto some hope that other members of RED may have survived. He'd spent the time waiting for results reading and re-reading the slip of paper he'd found waiting for him that informed him of the next battle. He was still reeling from the announcement of the upcoming battle in a month when the machines had finally dinged and given him answers.
The answers confirmed his worst fears.
The complex network behind TF Industry's respawn system was down entirely for the RED team and surprisingly, a large number of BLU bases were also without functioning respawn. Unfortunately for the Texan, the status of the BLU rooms at Teufort was listed as "active". His teammates on the other hand, were calmly dismissed as "inactive". The cold nature of the report, just another bit of data in some database owned by the Administrator brewed conflicted emotions within him.
The last RED was bitter, enraged that not only had BLU violated the Terms of Engagement in this war, but that his fallen comrades were so quickly dismissed and forgotten. The message he had received...it acted as if there was still a RED team, rather than a cripple surrounded by an empty base. At the same time, he felt oddly numb, as if the rage was coming from someone else and not himself. Part of him still clutched, however irrationally, at any hope it could devise, that he'd wake up, that his team would pop in at any moment, that this whole mess was some sick joke played by the Announcer. After all, with the RED half of the system down, HQ couldn't get accurate readings on the condition of their employees, could they?
In truth, the Engineer didn't know exactly how RED and BLU were tracked or how respawn worked exactly, so it could very well be that HQ could verify that the rest of RED were dead even with the system down...but he wished desperately that this was not so, that the marking of his allies and his only friends these past few years as "inactive" was an edit made on assumptions rather than hard evidence.
The more rational side of the Texan pointed out exactly how delusional such thinking was even as he shivered, the message of the telegram truly reaching him. In one month, he was expected to fight BLU once again in this familiar battlefield, alone, unsupported and with the slightest mistake costing him his life...permanently.
Securing the enemy intelligence at Teufort with his team was difficult enough, the fighting could often go on all the way through the day and still end in a stalemate. Everybody knew this place like the back of their hand, meaning the BLU Spy knew exactly where to hide, where he would build. Their Demoman knew just where to bounce his grenades to land a direct hit. The Scout knew how to use the base's corners and corridors to avoid sentry gun fire whilst still popping up to perform hit and runs. Their Sniper would be able to score a headshot on the wounded Engineer easily. The Heavy...
The Engineer paused in his worrying. To put it bluntly, if he left the RED base he wouldn't be able to take more than two steps before dying. Yet, if he holed himself up he wouldn't be able to survive all that much longer, let alone actually try and capture the intel. In a direct fight in his current condition any one of the BLUs could best him on their own. Even at his best, he wouldn't be able to take on the BLU Engineer, Soldier, Heavy, Demoman or Pyro on his own.
One of the nearby machines beeped, startling the one-armed mercenary. He looked at it for a moment, noting that it was considerably older than the modern tape reel-equipped computers. The archaic device appeared to be operated on punch cards and looked like it was missing more than a few parts. The beeping was probably some fault.
The Texan moved to get up, the mission announcement paper in his hand. A pause. A breath in, a breath out. The beeping, like a sentry...missing parts...the BLU Engineer...
A sudden grin lit up on his features, the fire flaring back into his eyes as he read the paper for what must have been the hundredth time. The words "by any means necessary" echoed in his mind as he ran out of the communications room, mind racing with ideas, of plans, of strategies, of how he could spend an entire month without restrictions to prepare for his showdown with the bastards that had stolen his team.
No...not his team. Not his allies. The other mercenaries had been his only friends these past few years and more than that, they had been family. As Soldier had once put it, once you've fought alongside a man, risked your life together and braced countless hardships...you form an unbreakable bond unlike any other. And BLU, unable to break that bond, saw fit to destroy the people the bond connected.
One Engineer. One Month. No limits. No mistakes. Only payback. Only vengeance.
Elsewhere, the BLU Spy shivered, frowning as he did so. The eagle-eyed Sniper noticed, offering the Frenchman a toothy grin as he clutched his #1 Sniper mug, currently full of steaming coffee. "What's the matter, Spoi? That cold 'eart of yours finally getting to ya?"
The Spy snorted, the feeling of cold passing as the man flipped out his cigarette case, lighting up and looking out into the cold night air. BLU were currently at an intermediate base, a place to stay between fights and transport. He had felt the need for some late evening air and possibly a stroll so he'd come out to find the Sniper already decked out here, gazing into the distance.
"I'm afraid not, bushman. Some of us have blood running through our bodies instead of ze boiling sludge you insist is coffee." The Spy retorted, turning up his nose at the steaming liquid as the Australian gulped more down before sighing in content afterwards. The Sniper otherwise remained silent, eyes unblinking as they swept over the dark landscape.
Awkward silence and finally he spoke up. "...I don't suppose there's any chance of there being another one of those RED buggers running around, is there? You're not going to suddenly turn out to be the RED Spy, having infiltrated our defences, hijacked our respawn and now about to put a knife in my back?"
More silence, shortly followed by snorting laughter. "Ahahahaha, bushman, please! So good to see that you paid attention in our team meetings." Was all the masked man could say before he leant against the wall, trying to subside his laughter, which only grew louder as he saw the Sniper's confused and angry expression.
"An' wot's that supposed to mean, spook? Ya better give me answers or I might be tempted to poke ya with my Kukri to check that you really are BLU." With this the Australian hefted the aforementioned knife, causing the Spy to quickly return to reality, suddenly noticing that the Bushman had his sniper rifle and a certain jar besides him in addition to the melee weapon.
Coughing once, straightening his posture and dusting off his suit the Spy became all business.
"It's true that one RED did manage to escape us and however unlikely, there could be another survivor out there, although they'd likely be at least as injured as Monsieur Texas was. With regards to the respawn system...I'm going to assume that like most of the team, our discussions regarding the plan these past few months went completely over your uncivilised head, hm?"
At that the Sniper rolled his eyes, raising his other hand in protest. "Look, I got the gist of the plan and our rolls in it...I just don't get all the technical details and other gobbledygook you and truckie were going over. Ain't my job to know the details, just the...execution."
The Spy resisted the urge to facepalm at the choice of words their Sniper used, likely thinking the pun was clever, 'oh look I'm an assassin, executed, ha ha ha.' Needless to say, the Frenchman was not amused.
"For you, my dear bushman, I'll keep things as brief and simple as I can. Let me first state that the respawn system is incredibly complex and completely controlled by TF Industries, the neutral party in the war that ze Announcer controls herself. Zhere is nobody alive bar the madame herself who has any true knowledge over how it works. What we do know is that the system is packed full of safeguards to maintain fairness, prevent AWOL mercenaries and tampering."
The masked man paused to see if he had the Australian's attention still. The Sniper merely nodded for the Spy to continue, his coffee forgotten in his hand, rapidly cooled by the night air.
"With the exception of places such as Dustbowl, where one team inherits the other's former respawn rooms, under no circumstances can members of the opposite team enter each other's respawn rooms, let alone use them. It's taken me months of sleuthing along with the Labourer's help looking over stolen blueprints to even get a rudimentary understanding of the basics. Considering our...time frame, gaining a full understanding and hijacking the systems was never a viable option to defeating RED and I'd imagine that it would carry much deeper repercussions that what we actually did."
"Sabotage an' destruction." The Bushman said with a grimace, finally lowering his weapon, clearly not too happy with what they had done. Professionals had standards after all, and it had taken him some convincing to go ahead with the scheme in the first place, whether he understood it or not. The Spy merely nodded, face unreadable, as he continued.
"It took a long time, requiring deliberate losses on our parts here and there, planted explosives, sapped machines, bribed employees at TF Industries and finally, the catalyst to it all, the destruction of Dustbowl...but we did it. A good few of our own respawn rooms were taken out in the process but it was either that or risk not destroying RED's half of the network. Entire battlefields are now unusable and we've lost almost half of our respawn rooms. This operation has been risky from day one but...it had to be done."
At that both men fell silent, remembering what exactly had driven them to this course of action in the first place. The Sniper used to think that the Spy lacked any real compassion or ability to feel remorse and up until now that had still held true to some extent. But right now, sitting outside underneath the crescent moon, he realised something as he looked at the master of stealth. For all his ability to manipulate and deceive, the Spy couldn't hide the truth in his eyes. The disgust, the shame, the pity and yes, remorse. The masked man was just as upset about having to do this as the Sniper was, he just hid it better.
Further silence. A birdcall in the distance, the muffled sound behind them of raised voices, this time appearing to be the Medic and Scout. The boy's angry cry of "I HATE doctors!" could just be made out before a scream of pain racked the base. Silence again.
Eventually the silence was broken by footsteps and a polite cough. The pair turned around to see their Engineer standing there, a pack of beer held in-between the fingers of the Gunslinger.
"Hey fellas, figured I'd get some time away from the usual chaos and I saw you two were missing so..."
The Texan trailed off, gesturing with his left hand at the beer. The Spy snorted, shaking his head and muttering his head about how American beer "tasted like piss" as he eyed the Sniper's jar, whilst the Sniper gave his thanks but declined, holding up his mug, not noticing how cold it had gotten. Shrugging, the Engineer opened a can, pulling up another chair and looking out at the landscape as the other two men had done.
The three men enjoyed the peace together, all thinking deeply about their situation, what they had done, the upcoming meeting with the Administrator and, of course, of the one RED currently at Teufort. A gentle wind picked up, whistling quietly as if afraid to break the calm. Moments passed and as the last embers of the Spy's cigarette fell, the silence was broken once more. Not by the cries of a Scout in pain, the drunken detonations of their Demoman, the booming voice of the Heavy or even the barked commands of the BLU Soldier. No, the silence was broken by the Sniper of all people, who had absent-mindedly took a sip from his mug and immediately spat the cold concoction out, gagging.
Elsewhere, a man worked tirelessly with renewed vigour in the medical bay, glad that Teufort was so well stocked up on everything: metal, ammo, weapons, components and medical supplies. A Medigun was held in place overheard, firing its miraculous healing beams at him even as he alternated between treating his wounds properly and hammering away at scrap metal and various half-finished contraptions he'd brought from his quarters.
A chalkboard had been dragged into here from the war room and was filled with demented scribbles, design ideas and equations that boggled the mind. A lone dove separated from the rest, landing on the Engineer's shoulder and watching as he worked, cooing with interest at the man who had come in and fed them, quietly telling them that the Medic wasn't here. The man was odd and hadn't come in often until now; usually it was just the Medic or the big man who laughed as he played with them.
The dove called Archimedes cooed again, asking the man where the bigger man was. The only response was controlled breathing, the crackling of the Medigun and the sound of steel. Steel in his hands, steel on the table, steel in the eyes and steel in the heart.