AN: Warning: this chapter contains stronger language than I usually use. I mostly avoid swearing unless I'm trying to express strong emotions, yet Team Fortress Classic Heavy is shown to swear a lot and generally be quite crude. In the name of art and accuracy to canon, my hand was forced. I'm sorry. Now, without further ado, let's get to the action.
Gray Gravel Co. - New Mexico, USA. Sunday, April 1st, 1973.
With one tap of a button, a soft hiss of smoke enveloped him and within seconds, he had vanished into thin air. Over his suit he donned a disguise, 'skillfully' crafted by Soldier, who claimed it was foolproof and that the enemy would never be able to tell the difference between one of their robots and the costume. He doubted the claim when the supposed foolproof design was enough to confuse the fool who made it. While it may have only been a cardboard box costume, it was better than nothing. Spy couldn't risk being caught; failure could easily result in death. Yet, valuable information always came at a high cost. Such factors were simply a part of the job, and he even welcomed the adrenaline spikes. It made his job much more interesting.
Once he was cloaked, he then tiptoed toward the four mercenaries, careful to avoid letting his leather loafers clack against the cement floor of the empty, metal warehouse room. One misplaced step would spell his end; a target such as his had enough experience with spies as it was.
"Gather 'round, men," their team's Heavy barked. His arms were crossed and his brow was already furrowed. He looked as though a blood vessel would pop if anyone so much as looked at him the wrong way. "We've got a problem, and I'm not about to let those fuckers beat us."
Their Engineer, Sniper, and Scout did as he told them to. Spy noted the small group size, remembering his team's responsibility for the decline. He fought the urge to laugh as he recalled finishing off their Demoman, strangling him with the shackles on his feet after Zhanna punched their enemy square in the nose through Miss Pauling. It may have not been ideal, but it worked. After a brief moment of recollection, he tuned into the conversation again.
The enemy Sniper saluted. "No sir!"
A sadistic grin danced across their Scout's lips. "We'll get them this time. I'll kick their asses faster than you can say 'move out'."
"You better," their Heavy replied.
Spy couldn't help but think of his own team as he watched them, knowing that they served similar roles yet acted nothing like the team he belonged to. Their Heavy seemed about as friendly as a bear after being woken up from hibernation by being poked in the ass with a stick too many times, unlike his team's Heavy. Their Scout, while also being as wound up as a toy car, didn't have the same cocky swagger as the one he knew. The man was sure of himself but not in the same way. The crotchety old men were far past their prime in his opinion; by their age, he liked to think that he would have already retired and moved to Boston, only taking jobs when it suited him.
"What do you suggest?" their Sniper asked the group.
"This time, we go ourselves," the enemy Scout suggested. "We'll take 'em all out."
Their Heavy rolled his eyes. "And get mashed into a fucking meat pie? Like hell we're doin' that. They out number us eleven to four."
"Well, what do you suggest we do, then?"
Their Engineer raised his hand. "If I may."
Their Heavy nodded. "Continue."
"We build more robots; make more of them, stronger and bigger than before."
"That's it?" their Heavy chided. "That's all you've got?"
The enemy Engineer gave a breathy chuckle. "Hardly. We'll send bombs, and lots of them. Big 'ol bombs in each of them. One stray bullet, and," he clapped his hands together, causing a loud echo to crash through the room. "Boom!" He laughed, sounding more like laboured wheezing than sadistic glee.
He gave a snort. "The bastards deserve it, especially their pathetic little nurse."
Spy leaned in closer, daring to take a step forward. A ray of sunlight from one of the tiny windows near the ceiling shone down on him, causing him to smirk as he looked at the dusty floor and saw no shadow at his side. He then checked his watch, seeing that his cloak was going to fail soon. He ducked back behind the box and tiptoed to a further stack of crates.
"After he ran away like the little pussy he is, I can't wait to cave his face in," their Heavy continued. Spy mentally took note of the threat, telling himself to warn Medic when he returned. After getting to cover, he read the label on one of the boxes: Caution: explosive. Were these the bombs they were going to use, or did they have something else in mind? Spy skillfully swung his butterfly knife open, ready to pry open the crate. Just then, he heard the soft hiss of his cloak fading.
"What was that?" their Scout asked, peering about the room.
Spy gripped the handle. He knew he didn't have long; not enough time to tamper with the munitions.
Their Sniper stared right in the direction of the crates Spy was hiding behind. "Sounds like an Invis Watch to me."
Their Engineer twirled his pistol on his finger. "I think we've got company, boys."
"What the hell are ya waitin' for, then?" their Heavy barked. "Get him!"
Footfalls slammed against the floor, growing louder with every second. Spy swore under his breath, running as fast as he could.
"That's a bloody Spy!" their Scout called out.
Spy still kept his knife in hand, not so much as looking behind him. He heard a bullet whiz over his head, then another fly by his left shoulder. He had no choice but to keep going and hope he'd make it back before they caught up to him. Thankfully, age hadn't been the kindest to them because they were slower than he would have anticipated.
A shot pierced through the thin metal tubing of the pathetic costume piece wrapped around his arm, causing him to let out a grunt but continue on as if the shot had missed. Spy refused to let them take any pride in their minor victory. Much to his annoyance, he not only had blood on his suit but now there was a hole in it as well. He'd have to fix it when he went home and hoped no one would catch wind of it.
He practically leaped into the teleporter and was instantly transported back to his base.
Engineer's Workshop - RED Team Base, Badlands, New Mexico, USA. Sunday, April 1st, 1973.
Engineer saw a blinding red flash engulf the room for a brief moment as the teleporter whirled and brought someone back through it. Once the light faded enough to let him see again, he saw Spy stepping off of the device, clutching his tin-clad arm.
"Spy! Where the hell were you?"
He threw off the cardboard box head and yanked the tubing off of his arms, exposing a wound on the arm he was holding onto. He left the shoeboxes on.
"Oh God, you're losin' a lot'a blood there. You should see the doc right away."
"That's not important right now," he dismissed. "Destroy the damn teleporter!"
Engineer fumbled for his Destruction PDA and pressed the button then, behind Spy, the little red machine detonated, leaving behind a blackened spot and bits of twisted metal.
"Merci, mon ami." Spy said, dusting off the shoulder of his seemingly unsoiled suit.
"Now, what in tarnation is goin' on? Where were you and what hurt you?"
"I was spying on the enemy in their base and they caught me. But, no matter, I overheard what I needed to know and I got away."
Engineer pushed his goggles onto his forehead and rubbed his eyes, spreading the charcoal-coloured dirt on his face. "Ooh boy, that's a doozy. Tell you what, I'll call everyone to the common room. Wait right there and don't you worry 'bout a thing. I'll make sure Medic brings his Medi Gun." Heading to the door, Engineer chuckled. "Good thing he got more Medi Gun fluid when he did. Otherwise, you might of been in trouble there."
Spy gave a quiet sound of agreeance but otherwise didn't speak.
"Ah, relax, Spy. We destroyed the teleporter; there's no way they're going to follow us. Not right away, at least. We've got time to talk this out." Engineer waved goodbye and began his round-up.
Soldier paced back and forth outside of the door to his room: a place he still wasn't allowed to so much as set foot in. He knew knocking would be pointless since she would likely see who it was through the door's peep hole and ignore him. Apparently making up in front of everyone wasn't good enough. Somehow, the hall floor felt almost more uncomfortable because of that.
Stopping outside the door, he crouched and slid the copy of Animal Farm he had been holding under the door, then waited. Much to his surprise, the door swung open. Zhanna looked down at him, now holding her book in her metal left hand. "Hmph. Was looking for this everywhere." Soldier stood and offered a smile, yet she narrowed her eyes, huffed, and went to slam the door shut. She was interrupted when Soldier abruptly said, "Zhanna, wait!"
She stopped, but not without flicking one of her ponytails over her shoulder.
"Can I come in? Please? I just want to talk to you."
Zhanna pensively rested her index finger on her chin as she weighed her options, narrowing her eyes at him as if deciding whether or not he was a spy. Finally, she said, "Da, come in."
"Thanks." She held the door for him and he sat on the bed right away. Smiling at her, Soldier said, "Have I ever told you that you look ravishing wearing that necklace of ears?"
She brushed the ones near the front of her necklace, the corners of her eyes crinkling. "Thank you." Putting the book down on the bedside table, she settled down beside him and asked, "So, where was my book?"
"I, uh, borrowed it. You left it in the intel room."
"Oh."
"I read it; I read a book! I mean, Heavy did. He read it to me; I couldn't figure out what the first page said." Soldier chuckled. "You should've seen the look on his face. He was so confused!"
Zhanna blinked. "You… had Misha read it to you?"
"Yes, sir! Those pigs were as un-American as Canadian back bacon! And to think those animals were British, too; everyone knows democracy is American, and it's what makes this country as perfect as it is!"
She chuckled at his reasoning, yet her joy was short-lived. "I'm surprised. Brother does not say much to me or anyone. He hardly talks to me now." She let her eyes trail off to the floor. "He is quiet, but never like this."
"He's probably mad at me for the same reason you were." Soldier took her non-metallic hand and said in a much softer tone of voice than usual, "Zhanna, I'm sorry for being a 'stupid man'. I never should have guessed you were a traitor. Or your family. I'll apologize to Heavy and I'm sure that'll whip that soldier back into shape!"
"You will not say stupid things about team too, yes?"
"You have my word, sweetheart." He brought Zhanna's hand to his face and kissed it.
Her expression brightened like the sky after storm clouds part. She practically tackled Soldier with a hug, sending them both down onto the bed in each other's arms while kissing him passionately.
Coming up for air, Soldier said, "God, I love you."
There was a knock on the door. After both of them silently willed the other to answer it, Soldier finally said, "I'll get it." He kissed Zhanna on the forehead then did as he said.
Engineer stood on the other side, fiddling with the edge of his yellow, rubber glove. "Oh, there you are. I wasn't expectin' you'd be in here."
"We made up and I got my bed back!"
"That's great, Soldier." He cleared his throat. "Listen, there's been a bit of a problem. Emergency meeting in the common room, so now would be a good time to make your way on down there."
Soldier saluted stiffly. "Sir, yes, sir!" Ducking back into the room, he said, "Zhanna we're moving out! That's an order!"
"Da." Without delay, she joined him by the door, seeming as though she were already mentally preparing herself for battle.
"Woah, there!" Engineer held up his hands placatingly. "This ain't no fight, fellas. It's just a meeting in the common room."
"Hmm. Why did you not say so?"
"I, uh… did," Engineer said. Had he been wearing his dark-lensed goggles, he would have rolled his eyes. "Anyway, we'd better hustle on down there now."
"Onward, men!" Soldier barked, jogging ahead with Zhanna following closely behind him.
Once Engineer caught up to them, the rest of the team was already seated on the couches and chairs, murmuring amongst themselves about possible reasons for the meeting. After he took his place, Spy cleared his throat to get the room's attention.
"Gentlemen," he began. "It appears we have a problem."
"Well yes, you seem to be losing a lot of blood," Medic said. "I could fix that with the Medi Gun; problem solved."
Spy pinched the bridge of his nose using his right hand. "I noticed, and you can deal with it after. But that's not the reason I've gathered you here." After pausing to ensure no one else would interrupt him, he continued. "After yesterday's meeting, I took the liberty to investigate; it's worse than I thought."
"What did you find?" Miss Pauling asked, clicking her pen open.
"They have bombs; lots of them. They're sending them to our base."
"Crikey," Sniper mumbled.
"How long do we have?" Engineer asked.
"I don't know, but I don't imagine it would be very long."
Frantically scribbling, Miss Pauling said, "So, they could invade at any time and we wouldn't be ready."
"Now, don't you be worryin'," Engineer said, reclining in his seat. "I'll think of something. We'll be prepared."
"I'll help," Medic offered. "With our combined efforts, we'll be unstoppable."
"Let's say we have… until tomorrow before they attack," Spy said. "Do what you can in that time. As for the rest of you, get ready for battle. This won't be easy."