Revised on the 13th of November 2017
The Saharan Desert, miles away from Giza, Egypt
2076
This place felt like a Wasteland.
Feeling of sand sloshing around his boots, no flora or fauna as far as the eye could see, and only the howling wind accompanying him as he traversed over tall dunes that broke apart under his feet. The only thing missing was the heat of the sun beating down on his duster. Instead, the moon and that city in the far distance bounced light off the sand. The seasoned wanderer wasn't going to complain about that, though.
This time the Courier was walking alone. One of the few times since being contracted that he was willingly, and knowingly, sent off on a mission by himself. The lack of an entourage felt a bit strange, but he was more than glad to not have someone hover over him. Still, walking through a long stretch of a barren landscape without anyone else at his side wasn't something he would normally do. Especially back home.
He was to be heading to some structure, a temple, in the middle of the open expanse of the desert to meet up with agents who have been stationed there. To check-up on things, see what they've found, and evaluate whether they needed some help. Nathan doubted they really needed help. He did also question why it had to be specifically him to carry out this mission. There were easily several candidates he thought of that would've been more suitable. Yet, Security-Chief Amari thought he would be the best option. Very trusting, as he could run away without the leash, but if that off-base stint with Bastion a few weeks back was any indication…
Besides, where would he go?
He wandered for what felt like an hour through the Sahara, the rock formation in the distance getting larger as time passed. Eventually, he was right at the bottom of the mountain and looked up to see the temple at the summit. Unfortunately, it didn't look like there was a pathway or trail that could lead him to it, at least where he was. He didn't want to spend more time walking around and just trying to find a trail. The wanderer be damned, he took the quickest way he saw: Going up.
Walking up to the rock face, he adjusted the slings on his back and fastened the straps of his gear before he grabbed a rock, gave it a good shake to see if it was sturdy, then lifted himself off the sand and started to climb up. Years of growing up in a canyon were being put to good use as he scaled the cliff face. Memories of being a bored child with nothing else to do, trying to find other outlets other than stick geckos with spears or watching old Pre-War holotapes. Memories of other places started to crop up in his mind, as well: Zion National Park, the Divide, Colorado, the Grand Canyon, and even some parts in Big Mountain. Expertly climbing up the rock, even with his size and all the gear he was carrying, Nathan made good time and had already scaled about half of it within ten minutes. Hastening his efforts while still taking care to be careful on his hike, he slowly lets one arm up after the other, his boots finding proper footing along the granite. Occasionally grunting or catching his breath with each strenuous movement, especially the little jumps across one crevice to another. His arms felt a bit strained but nothing too painful. If anything, he considered this a warm-up. He didn't want to look down, though.
Finally nearing the summit after about ten more minutes, he grabbed onto the ledge and was about to clamber on until he looked up and saw a man standing above him, decked out in drab-olive fatigues, and staring down at him dumbstruck with a cigarette in one hand and a rifle in the other.
The Courier leaped up and grabbed the muzzle of his rifle and pulled him down, making him plummet to the sand with a scream. He then scrambled onto the ledge and took cover by a rectangular, sandstone tomb. He pulled out his marksman carbine and racked the charging handle. He could hear more armed men scrambling to him, yelling something in their language.
'Great, now I have to clear this place out, first,' the Courier thought, grumbling that things just got more arduous.
As he heard boots thump against the sandstone, getting closer to his position, he was about to pounce from cover until he heard the register of another rifle to the north. Seeing the dark area around flash blue with every shot. He popped out of cover and began firing on the men who were now facing the other threat and let their sides be exposed. Emptying his mag, Nathan returned to cover and inserted a fresh one before shimmying to the other side of the tomb to engage the enemy from another angle. Just as he peers out from the corner the falling body of another armed man nearly falls on him, looking down to see there was syringe embedded into his neck. He looks out into the courtyard and sees men either being taken down by blue bolts of plasma and sniper shots streaking from atop the main building with deadly precision. The invaders falling after every shot. Nathan lifts an eyebrow.
'Maybe not,' he thinks to himself, adjusting his stance and casually leaning against his cover as he watches the entire thing unfold.
After about a minute, the show finally ended, and silence hung in the desert air again. Nathan lifted himself from cover and just walked around the courtyard, taking care to step over the bodies. Tracking some blood across the sand stricken floor. Halfway to the main structure, he heard something click and Ana Amari stepped out from a corner with a dart gun. The helmeted man stared at her in response. She sighed upon recognition, holstering the weapon.
"Oh, it's you," she remarked with a straight face, turning to wave at something in the North. Nathan looking to see the old man in the blue jacket standing on top of a structure before hopping out of view. "You're late."
"The Sahara has a bit more dunes than I'm used to, ma'am," the New Californian explained, despite being certain the older woman wasn't going to take that excuse. "Sorry, for the holdup. Who're your guests?"
"Just common mercenaries. Don't worry about them. I thought wandering deserts was your specialty? And was it necessary to scale the rock? While commendable, there is a pathway you could've taken."
"Didn't see it. Didn't want to spend time trying to find it."
Ana narrowed her eye at the response, eagle-sharp gaze scrutinizing the red eyes. The more they worked together, the more unsure the Sniper was about her attitude towards him. Would've been simple to make up an opinion of men like him, but Nathan was an unusually tough nut to crack. She was wary of how her other colleagues have been growing somewhat lenient towards him. He hasn't done anything to compromise that thin veil of trust that seemed to be weaving between them. His willingness to scale a mountain and participate somewhat in a firefight just to meet-up with a contact showed the Old Sniper he was more committed than most, at least. Or stubborn.
"Well, you're here now and I guess that's all that matters," Ana conceded, pulling the hood down to reveal her silver, braided hair. "Come inside so we can get out of the cold. And take that helmet off while you're at it, please."
"Why?" Nathan questioned, his brow furrowing under his mask.
"Would you like it if I visited your home and wore a mask the entire time?"
He grumbled at her words, considering there were corpses around them but raised his hands to take his helmet off unless he wanted to incur more smarminess from the older woman.
Removing it and feeling the cold Saharan air bite his face, he followed Ana further to the temple, looking at the sandstone structures – some of them already crumbling. A pair of obelisks stood tall in front of the main structure that the Egyptian was leading him. Statues of a birdman carved into its front walls and hieroglyphics atop the entrance. These weren't the ruins he was used to, but the Wanderer still felt an impression of the old as his boots thumped against the sandy floor.
Leading him inside the main structure, it looked to be their main base of operations. Computers were set up along the main wall, a workbench for her gear and equipment on an opposite corner, and opposite of that corner was a makeshift kitchen complete with a dining table and a shelf of food. A couple dirty and non-dirty plates to the side of a blue bin filled with water.
"Help yourself to some tea if you'd like," Ana said, pointing to the big pot at the dining table. "I still have to wrap a few things up before I can give you the data they need, so feel free to walk around our humble abode. Just don't touch anything."
Nathan lightly grunted at her hospitality. He knows she would've preferred anyone else to have climbed onto that ledge. She did do a good job of hiding it, though.
While he wasn't thirsty for tea, he decided to at least off-lay some gear from his body. Going over to the table next to Ana's station, he started by planting his helmet onto it before unslinging his rifles, then his duster, and then the pieces of riot armor on his torso and chest. Until he was only in his white shirt and jeans. His M1911 still hanging around his waist and Pip-Boy around his wrist. After he had stripped himself of his gear, he looked to the workbench and saw her rifle under the light, recently clamped in place after the skirmish. Stepping closer to it, he bent down and took a good look at the weapon. His eyes glossing over its features and noting how unique it was. The Wastelander felt the urge to grab the rifle and see how it felt in his hands but shoved that thought away.
He turned around to see Amari still on the computer, her back to him. Watching her silently working on whatever he was there for. For a moment, he felt like walking over to her and asking her a few questions. To get some more context into what exactly he was picking up and delivering back to base. Maybe figure out what the hell they've been doing in the middle of the desert. And maybe… Just learn a little bit more about who the Sniper was. The drifter wasn't one to skip out on questions, but that thought was only for the moment before he turned and walked up the stairs that led to the roof. As Ana was typing onto her computer, she paused, her head slightly turning to watch the tall man go up the stairs. Only when did he go up to the roof did she stop looking and went back to her work.
There was a nice perch on top of the temple that gave a view of the entire cemetery. Quite ideal for a for anyone with a long gun. Although good enough for Nathan to puff away on some cigarettes, feeling the clouds fill his lungs before blowing it out into the open desert air. Watching the smoke go up into the sky filled with stars, not drowned out by the light pollution of the city. A sky full of lights, desolate atmosphere of the desert, and hiding out in old ruins gave the Wastelander a familiar sensation. The name of the place didn't help, either, thinking he was going to see a Ghoul shamble out into the open at any moment.
After taking another puff, he held the cigarette in his mouth as he looked down at his Pip-Boy. It was still operational, still reliable, but the sight of that crack on the screen was starting to bother him more than it should. It didn't feel right to see that on something built like a brick, and there weren't a lot of backups he could fall back on. Even then, it wouldn't feel right to get rid of it either. He still couldn't believe that the Old Doctor just gave it to him.
"Here," Ana's voice suddenly came up from behind him, accompanied by her hand appearing next to him with the data-drive he was sent to pick-up. "And since you were getting comfortable."
She then produced a teacup with her other hand, steaming hot. Nathan took the data-drive but hesitantly looked at the drink. His eyes switching back and forth between the beverage and her eye. Noticing she had changed out of her cloak and was now in a gray tank top and black cargo pants.
"Just drink it," the old woman adamantly suggested, nudging it closer. "It's healthier than that death-stick you're smoking."
Nathan glanced at her and looked at the cup, again. Finally grabbing it by the handle and bringing it to his nose. It smelled pleasant.
"Thank you, ma'am," he said, still unsure what to think of the gesture.
"You can lighten up, you know?" Ana said, leaning against the wall overlooking the cemetery. "With the formalities, I mean. I'd like to not be constantly reminded of how old I'm getting."
"I'll keep that in mind."
Shoving the data-drive into his pocket, he then pulls the cigarette out of his mouth and brings the teacup up to his lips. Taking a sip, the first thing he feels is the heat pouring over his tongue and burning it. A second or two later, he then feels tastes something sweet and bitter wash over. Before taking gulp and feeling the back of his spine tingle from the sudden warmth inside him. The bitterness was probably from the cigarette.
"Not bad," Nathan admits, his tongue clicking against the roof of his mouth. "Thanks."
"You're welcome," Ana responds, smiling a bit. "You know, I'm a bit surprised that Fareeha would be sending you to check up on us."
"Is that so?" he asks, but in a rather rhetorical tone. He knew what she meant by that.
"It shows that she's starting to warm up to you. Perhaps trust you, and I've heard she's not the only one to think this. You've been making quite a reputation for yourself back at Gibraltar. Seeing what you've done first-hand, I'm sure it's pretty well-earned."
"Where are you going with this?"
The Courier looks at the Sniper questioningly, noting how odd and sudden the conversation had turned. Preferring to call attention to it rather than beating around the bush. Ana's face grew more earnest, but not indignant. She appreciated his bluntness.
"All I'm saying is that I'm more trusting of the judgment of my daughter and of my friends than just you," the Amari stated, looking him straight in the eye. "Especially my daughter; She's a very capable woman, and I'll hope you'll be keeping that in mind. Don't know how long you are going to be stuck with us given your… Situation, but might as well have someone around whose proven useful. God knows this organization needs it."
"I feel like we've had this conversation, before?" Brin observes, though not completely doubtful. "I thought you hated my guts just a few weeks ago?"
"I didn't trust you, I didn't say I hated you. I still have my doubts, but they shouldn't be too much of a problem. For the both of us."
"I see. Thanks for being forward with that information, then. I hate it when people keep shit like that to themselves."
Ana chuckled a bit, pivoting her body to lean more comfortably along the wall, near her telescope and laptop.
"No problem," she said, turning to the screen. "I know what it's like-"
Her face lost its smile when she looked at the green-colored screen. Nathan noticed, watching as she goes over to the telescope and uses it with her eye. He looks up to see what the Sniper had spotted and notices something drifting along the dunes, leaving a cloud of sand in its wake. Very faint, not enough to make a storm. Ana lifts her head back up from the scope and only has an annoyed expression on her withered face. Not really phased by it.
"Everything seems to have the worst timing in my growing age," she remarks, her voice mirroring the annoyance. "It looks like we have a straggler."
Instantly, Nathan knew who she was talking about.
"I'll take care of this," he stated, placing the still steaming teacup on the stone and marching towards the stairs.
"What do you plan on doing?" Ana questioned, her tone now more cautious.
"Take him out. What else?" he turned, one eyebrow raised.
"Is that really necessary? The man fell a few hundred meters. I'm sure he's suffered enough."
"And let him go back to whoever sent them? They might send more mercs if word gets back to them. But I'm sure being set up in a place called 'Necropolis' kinda makes the precariousness of it all expected, doesn't it?"
Ana then just narrowed her eyes at Nathan but because couldn't deny the validity of that response. He had a point about their situation becoming more compromised if the last home invader got out of their grasp.
"Look," Nathan begins, holding up his hands. "All I'm saying is that he's my responsibility. And it doesn't feel right leaving a mess and not helping the person who just gave me tea clean it up. even when I didn't ask for it."
His response was just met with silence and a hesitant stare. Even with the one eye, he could feel her bore through him.
"Well, if you're serious about that then gear up," Ana advised, already heading downstairs. The tall man then following her.
As they passed the first set of stairs and were about to cross the second into the ground floor, Nathan paused as he looked down to see something blue flickering on top of a red bedding. The blue light is a hologram of a little girl with ornaments hanging from her bangs. The Wastelander then saw a collection of framed photos by the foot of the bed. Bending down to take a closer look, he sees three photos and saw that it was the Overwatch agents long ago. Some of them familiar faces, some of them not. Almost astounded by how young they looked. The photo of a young mother giving her daughter a ride on her back with their arms extended like wings keeping his attention longer than it should've.
'So that little girl is the serious, no-nonsense military woman who flies in power armor,' he listed in his head, becoming astounded at the details. 'And that beautiful lady is the old woman in the other room…? Holy shit, she was hot.'
He shook his mind clear before it could go to some weird places, making sure not to drool at how much of a looker Ana was back in her day. Climbing down the stairs then scrambling for his Mauser, bandolier, and Ranger helmet. Still, even as he went back out in the Saharan night, his mind ran with thoughts about the people he saw in those photos. Thinking how drastically different they looked and how much time must've passed in between then and now. Even Dr. Ziegler looked younger in the group photo, surprised that was possible.
He further shook those thoughts away, noticing the bodies that were on his path were now gone and was now at the cliffside of the plateau. Putting the Ranger helm on, he then looked down at his rifle and flipped the safety off. Looking towards the horizon, his eyes bright red eyes scanning the horizon and trying to find where the straggler had gone. Eventually, they landed on a figure staggering through the dunes and kicking sand up. Some of the sand was discolored.
The Courier crouched, his right knee to the ground while his left knee was up in the air and provided a rest for his supporting arm's elbow to help stabilize his aim. Peering through the scope, the crosshairs glided over dunes before until he caught the sight of crimson stained sand being kicked up. Finally getting a good look at the man. He was covered in blood and grime, his fatigues torn, and looked like one of his arms was pointing in the wrong direction. Watching him trying to stumble and limp across the sand. To the wounded man's credit, he got quite far in his state. A couple hundred meters at most, but he still had an entire desert to cross.
'I guess I'm doing you a favor,' the Courier thought, steadying his breathing. 'You wouldn't last long like that.'
After a few more controlled, even breaths, steadying the crosshairs on the staggering man's torso as best he could. Following him with the muzzle for a while. Suddenly, the man tripped again and fell to the sands. He now had a view of the man's bruised face, seeing his target stare up at the night sky. Even though the features were still somewhat faint given the distance and the light, he could see the man's eyes shut close and his mouth open as if to let out a scream into the desert. The Courier didn't hear it but watched him as he slowly placed his trigger finger into the trigger guard. Regulating his breathing to steady the scope. Ready to fire off a shot. Until the sound of approaching boots interrupted him.
"You won't be needing that old rifle for this," Amari stated, bringing with her the telescope and a rifle. Not the same one he saw in at the workbench. It was fairly worn and had red tallies on the side of its receiver. However, the scope on it looked clean and wasn't scratched up. Looked like the newest addition. "Here, this should land the shot."
Nathan disengaged his low-light vision and put the older rifle down, before standing up to be handed her rifle. The first thing he felt about the long gun was its light size, the composite materials making it feel like a feather compared to the wooden stick he was holding earlier. Its design was very reminiscent of the rifle at the workbench. Probably the closest he'll get to touch it.
"That rifle is a Kinamura-.338 or K-338 for short," the Sniper began to explain. "It takes .338 Lapua rounds. It is accurate up to 2000 meters and has a velocity of up to 980 meters-per-second."
"What's with the scope?" the fellow sharpshooter asked, noting there was some damaged where the scope was mounted. "Seems new."
"A replacement. The last one I lost the same day as this," she explained, pointing to her eyepatch.
"Ouch… You ever got payback on the bastard who did it?"
"No… Not yet."
Not how her tone changed upon saying that, Nathan went ahead and grabbed one of the magazines she had then inserted it into the rifle after some fumbling. Next, shouldering the rifle and trying to feel the best position he could place his hands on. It felt rather awkward, the rifle's "stock" not really accommodating for the tall man's long arms and the foregrip being close to the actual grip. It was a strange design, the lack of a cheek rest and a trigger guard making him forget all the eager curiosity he had earlier. At least the scope was decent, illuminating the target with a calm blue and having a pretty astounding zoom.
"Shall we move on?" the Old Sniper said, wanting to get to the task at hand.
The younger man complied by taking his earlier stance and pointing the rifle towards the horizon. Ana lying on her stomach next to him and peering through her scope. It wasn't long until the two found the man again, Nathan now able to see him in greater detail than with the Mauser.
"Eyes on target," the Courier alerted, slowly drifting the muzzle.
"He's a person, not a target," Amari corrected with a stern tone. "We might as well leave him with that much."
The Courier's eyes peered to the left in their sockets, before staring straight ahead, again. With his right hand, he pulls on the charging handle and watches as a round pops up into view and rests against the bolt. Noting another strange design choice for this rifle.
"Open-bolt?" Brin questions. "Really?"
"Are you going to put him out of his misery or not?"
His lips thinned when she said that, before his mouth exhaled and went back to regulating his breath. They could only hear the air softly blowing around them as the Courier trained the scope's crosshairs on the back of the wounded man, who was limping away at a much slower rate than earlier. The Sharpshooter slowly guided his finger to the trigger and squeezed it – crisp and easy. The bolt slammed the .338 round into the chamber and the rifle kicked, but not much. Expecting a cloud of blood, the powerful instead kicked up a cloud of sand next to the man. Startled, he quickly looks back at the cemetery. Nathan now able to see the man's scared expression as he pulled on the bolt to let another round up. Could even make out the scars and cuts on his face.
"You're hitting just to the lower left of him – Adjust your aim," his spotter instructed. "We're trying to put him down, not scare him in his final moments."
"I'm aware of that," the sniper responded, his crosshairs now following a rapidly moving target.
Letting out another sigh, he steadied the crosshair and made the adjustments but now trying to lead his target. After what seemed like a minute of watching his target scrambled desperately across the dunes, he fired off another round and lit up the area around them in a fiery flash. He watched as the magnum round, practically instantly, nicked the man on the side of his head. Making the already wounded man bring his working arm to his ear. He was close, but the Courier wasn't aiming for his head. No self-respecting sniper ever did. They were too small of a target at this range.
"Looks like the wind picked it up," the spotter informed, still gazing through the telescope. "Sure you don't need me to take him out for you?"
The Courier was silent as he brought the bolt back for a third time, hearing the round clicking in. His eyes still trained on the running man, who was now practically dashing across the sand and trying to evade the blue crosshair on his back. After only a few moments of deliberation, he felt the rifle fire off another shot and watched as the fiery ball flew towards his target. Only to then graze his shoulder, ripping some clothes up but possibly not the flesh.
"All right, give me the rifle," Amari sighed, her eye still on the telescope. "I'm not getting any younger and you're just wasting ammunition-"
She suddenly heard him growling as the Courier released his eye from the scope and set the Kinamura down. He then swiftly brought up his Mauser.
"Wait, what are you do-?"
She didn't finish her question as the Courier fired off another round, this time an 8mm Mauser. Ana brought her eye to the scope and tried to reorient herself to find the man. She finally did, seeing a figure slumped against the hill of a dune and him with blood seeping out of a wound on his chest to the sand around. He was motionless.
"No offense, but I don't like that rifle," Nathan honestly admitted, referring to the Kinamura as he lowered the Mauser.
Ana just looked up at him, her one eye squinting at the man and her mouth slightly agape. Not sure what to think of what just transpired, other than be slightly perplexed.
"Sure, that sniper's better than this old ass relic. I'm just saying, I'm not really feeling it. 'Practiced hands make for short work', but not when the tools are uncomfortable to use. I'd take this or a .50 BMG any other day."
"Whatever works best for you," the Old Sniper relented, getting up from the ground and dusting off her clothes. "A .50 BMG seems excessive, though."
"For people, maybe," the Courier said, already heading back to the main structure, the Mauser slung over his back.
Ana watched him go, standing there with one hand on her hip and a slight frown on her withered face. She lets out a little scoff and shakes her head as she bends down and picks up her telescope and rifle. Approaching footfalls make her look up to see Jack coming to her, his masked face looking at Nathan go before addressing his old friend.
"What was that all about?" Jack asked, taking his mask off to look at her with his own eyes.
"I don't know," Ana sort of answered, looking back to the main structure. "I might've learned something about him."
"And what is that?"
"He kind of reminds me of you."
The sun was already rising when Nathan had left Amari and Morrison at their sandy hideout, the morning following him all the way back to Gibraltar on his short trip. Getting off the transport, he saw the landing area had a few personnel roaming about, the day only beginning to start for the rock.
The Wastelander even felt himself dozing off as he walked across the asphalt, cursing himself for not taking a nap on the return trip. He couldn't wait to get back to his quarters, wanting to strip himself to just his skivvies and plop down onto his bed. Feeling the refreshing, cool embrace of the sheets on his skin. Another nice place to relax on the off time.
Suddenly, an alarm started blaring throughout the base, red lights along the walls flashing to life. Nathan and the other personnel near the landing pad looking around and wondering what was going on.
"Alert! Unidentified aircraft incoming!" Athena provided the answers over the intercom. "Repeat: Unidentified aircraft incoming! Approaching landing zone three!"
Nathan's ears perked at that, looking to his left to see a big number three spray-painted along the walls of the area he was at.
He pulls out All-American and points the rifle to the sky, scanning for the possible threat. Eventually, his sights land on a ship moving through the sky. It had a white, almost clean exterior and floated with thrusters that seemed to emit a gentle blue light rather than a fiery propellant. It was angular, sleek, and smooth with its design. Though, as it got closer to the ground, it revealed a graphic on its hull. A white and blue stylized "V" with a diamond shape above it.
Security teams were scrambling around him and began taking up position around the landing zone. Taking cover behind some crates, Nathan kept his carbine trained onto the aircraft as he heard metallic footfalls approaching his side. Turning to see someone in blue, winged power armor running up to him with a rocket launcher in her hands.
"Brin, what's the situation?" Captain Amari questioned, her eyes concealed by that golden visor.
"Some white ship is dropping in," he informed her, looking back at the aircraft. "Don't know who it is, but they ain't bombing us. Yet."
"Okay, stay here! I'll get to my men and make sure the situation doesn't escalate."
"Good luck, Chief."
The Security-Chief then rocketed to the sky, flying over to the security teams. After a few more moments, the zooms of blue flashes and the clinking of spurs not far behind made him turn around once more to see Oxton and McCree coming up. The Brit still in a tank top and shorts and the Gunslinger in his outfit but without the poncho and leather leggings.
"Oi! What's going on?" the Brit asked Nathan.
"I think you're about to see for yourself," he answered, looking at the ship to see it has landed on the ground.
A door slid open, the collective sound of everyone's weapons charging as it did before a ramp fell to the ground and provided a walkway for the passengers. Then, two figures began to descend the ramp in clothes that match the vanity of their own ship. Nathan peered through his scope and got a closer look at the figure. One a man and the one behind him a woman. He instantly recognized the woman.
"…Vaswani…?" he let out, almost in disbelief.
He watched as Satya Vaswani and Sanjay Korpal, he now remembered, stepped onto the asphalt, and stood there, looking around. Apparently not fazed by all the small arms pointed in their general direction. Remembering what Vaswani could do back at the banquet, he doubts they would be in that much trouble. Then, the sound of something thumping hurriedly against the asphalt made them look back again to see Winston barreling to the landing pad. Dr. Ziegler with him, as well, in her doctor's coat. The gorilla rushed right past the three and continued towards the ship.
"Stop! Hold your fire! Hold your fire!" Winston pleaded, waving one arm around.
All the security personnel and agents lowered their weapons, looking at each other with confused expressions.
"Don't shoot! Vishkar is here for a meeting!" the ape further explained. "They are simply here to discuss something with us!"
"Hold on a tick – Vishkar?!" Lena angrily exclaimed, in disbelief. "What the bloody hell are they doing here?!"
Nathan looked at her then back at the ship. He rose from cover and started walking towards the landing site, his carbine still in hand. Lena and Jesse followed right behind him. They stopped around 15-20 meters away from the aircraft, now watching the interaction between the Vishkar employees and Winston. Dr. Ziegler, still at Winston's side, looked back to see the group gathered behind them. Nathan nodded at her. Angela smiled at him, before addressing the visitors.
"I must say, Mr. Winston, this is not the welcome we were expecting," Korpal said, looking around with a calm demeanor. "I thought we contacted you to inform you of our arrival?"
"Y-yes y-y-you did!" Winston responded, nervously laughing. "I received your message, but I didn't see it until it was already too late. I'm not going to lie; your visit is rather sudden! You've caught everyone here off-guard."
"We are pressed for time, Mr. Winston, and any earlier notifications of our visit could lead to some… Unwanted attention from malicious parties. Necessary precautions. If you'll please, sir, may we find a place to discuss this further? Somewhere more private, as well?"
"Yes, of course! Uh, this way, please."
Winston gestured with one arm to the direction he came from, the two Vishkar employees walking straight ahead. All eyes on them. Both Korpal and Vaswani kept their eyes focused on the path ahead as they walked past the security personnel. The red eyes of Nathan's helm being one of the sets that tracked them as they walked, mainly directed at Satya. She ignored their stares, but as she passed the tall man, her eyes darted to him – first his helmet then something at his side, before snapping them forward. Soon, they were out of sight, making their way to Winston's office.
"Well, this day just got more interesting," Angela stated, sighing as she moved a strand of loose hair across her forehead. "It barely even started."
"I don't like having those corporate lackeys here," Lena seethed. "I wonder what they're even going to discuss?"
"Well, whatever it is," Nathan joined in, taking off his helmet and yawning. "I'm going to fuckin' sleep. Rather deal with this shit with a couple hours of rest."
"I'm with you there, I'm knackered," Lena admitted, walking alongside him as she stretched her arms high into the air. "We're both going to need it for the mission that Winston's going to send us to."
The tall man stopped in his tracks and immediately began to pinch his nose. Letting out a tired groan.
"Whoops! Sorry…" the Brit sheepishly said, shrinking into her shoulders. "I probably should've let the big guy tell you that?"
"Where is the mission, at least?" the Californian demanded.
A day and a half later…
Nathan was sent to Africa for the second time this week, but further south of the Sahara than he's been before. The desert wanderer, dressed in a dark short sleeve dress shirt and beige cargo pants, looked out of the large window in the airport terminal he was standing in. A sizable piece of luggage sitting next to him and a large duffel bag over his shoulder. Looking out onto the African landscape surrounding the city, not seeing a vast and open desert but a vast and open grassland. A few trees and shrubs dotting the endless plains of beige. There are certainly worse places to build a city.
"Oi, Brin!" he heard Oxton call out to him over the terminal's noise, turning to see the spiky-haired brunette in an orange tee and jeans. Trying to blend in with her signature colors. "I got my stuff. We all set?"
"Yeah," he answered, as he picked up the luggage roller. The roller feeling having some heft to it, as it carried delicate equipment. However, even after grabbing those, he still felt something was missing as he kept looking for something in the terminal. "Wait, where's Zenyatta?"
They got their answer in the form of a crowd of people gathered in the center of the terminal, humans and Omnics forming a circle around someone. Nathan and Lena exchanged glances before hurriedly walking over there. The taller man broke through the circle, first, parting people to the sides as Lena followed close behind. Getting to the center, he sees the robotic monk just chatting with an Omnic. Electronic and non-electronic laughter then erupting from the people gathered.
"…And that is why it is better to bend than break," Zenyatta said, chuckling slightly at the end.
"You're pretty funny for a Shambali," the Omnic he was talking to said. "Will you be visiting Numbani long?"
"We will see how far my work will take me. Of course, I wish not to rush things while I am here in your wonderful home. The Iris knows this place needs it."
The Monk's metal head looks back at a wall where a construction crew was posted at, working to mend a huge crater in the wall. Nathan then placed a hand on his metal shoulder.
"We should get going, Zenyatta," the human said.
"Of course," the Omnic acknowledged, before turning back to the crowd. "My deepest apologies, but I am needed elsewhere. Peace and blessings be upon you all."
The crowd returned similar exchanges and gestures, Nathan looking back as he parted through and exhaling an amused scoff. The three eventually made their way to the streets of Numbani, already distancing themselves from the "Adawe International Terminal" as they roamed the sidewalk. The Waster, looking around at the tall buildings and architecture, just seeing the African city as another advanced hub in this world. Though, it had a certain character to it that the others did not. It was odd to see what seemed like more primitive decorations and symbols planted right onto the wall of a curvy skyscraper. Some of the buildings shaped to look like animals. Even seeing what appeared to be spears and shield through some of the window shops.
"So, this is the 'City of Harmony', huh?" he asked, eyes high to the sky as he watches a tram car drifting along a railing. "The aesthetic feels a bit more… Tribal. And I'm speaking from personal experience."
"Yes, the city is certainly bursting with the local culture," Zenyatta added, also looking around as he floated. "But tribalism wouldn't be an apt description of the people here. Human and Omnic, obviously."
"So, I've heard. What was that big crater in the wall, though?"
"Doomfist…" he heard Lena growl in front of him, as they neared a tall building with the words "Chancellor Hotel" holographically stamped on it. "I'll explain who he is later as he isn't important and is unfortunately long gone by now. Let's check into the hotel and drop off all our luggage. Then, we need to head to a club to meet up with our contact."
Nathan's hairs on the back of his neck stood up and felt his body get colder when she uttered the word "club", his ears starting to ring as he remembers the last time he went to one of them. He then mentally shoved that aside to try to maintain a neutral expression.
"Why a club?" he questioned, for his sake really.
Lena then, oddly enough, just smirked.
"Our contact has a thing for music," she answered, still maintaining the smirk. "I just hope the place is playing some of his tunes."
That only made the Wastelander narrow his eyes at her, wondering what the Brit meant as they went to the hotel, back onto the streets, and now outside an establishment that had a repetitive, electronic booming erupting from its insides. Already, Nathan was starting to get irritated while Lena and Zenyatta didn't seem to mind the noise. Zenyatta, he could understand because of the lack of ears, but he couldn't understand how the fellow human didn't seem phased by it. Walking further into the building, they head towards a doorway flanked on either side by two guards in suits. Lena, who was leading the group, stopped in front of them and spoke. She seemed giddy and happy in her speech - more apparent the closer they got to the club - contrasting the two rock-solid men staring at her.
"Name please?" one of them gruffly asked.
"Lena," she declared, beaming. "And these two are with me. He should be expecting us."
The two bodyguards exchanged looks before one of them left his post and went inside into the room that was glowing blue. A few moments later, he returned and gave a nod to his colleague.
"Go right in," he merely said. "He's waiting."
"Thanks!" Lena gratefully, going through the door as the other two followed.
Though, the guards eyeballed Nathan as he walked by. The tall man returning the gesture.
Now inside, the Wastelander took on the full brunt of the electronic music and blinding visuals of the club they were, but still able to make out the features of the room. It was a medium-sized, square room with the tiles emitting a constant blue hue and providing the main source of light around the room. There were fancy pieces of furniture lined against the walls, some of them occupied by human and machine. The music, while a much gentler and bearable beat than he expected, still wreaked havoc on his psyche and gave him the urge to turn his Pip-Boy's speaker on to dilute it.
"There he is!" he barely heard Lena as she began to bounce over to a couch to the left of them.
He saw a few people on the couch and chairs surrounding a table but saw in the middle of the couch a dark-skinned man with long tube-like dreadlocks, a green tank top with a white frog face on it, and blue shorts. However, Nathan did a double take as he could see the man manipulate disk-shaped holograms that waved and contorted with the beats of the music that was playing. Playfully bobbing his head up and down, his eyes closed, and waving one arm around. His entourage was in the moment as well. When Lena approached, did he finally open his eyes and look up, his face lighting up into a bigger smile than when he was jamming.
"Oh yeah! Look who's here!" the man declared, standing up to greet the woman. "The one! The only! The-"
"Shh!" Tracer shushed the man, though with a coy smile. "Y'know I'm not really supposed to be here, right?"
"Oh? Yeah! Sorry, I'm new to this."
"Don't worry, it's not every day we get to meet somebody amazing. I'm speaking from my point of view, of course."
"Aww, you are just too kind! Please, sit down and-"
His face lit up again as he saw Zenyatta float closer.
"Well, if it ain't the wandering monk himself! I've heard so much about you! We gotta discuss the meaning of life sometime, bro."
Zenyatta chuckled at that, his metallic head bobbing in place.
"If that is what you wish, then I can't deny," he said, holding one of his metallic hands in a fist towards to the elated man, who then bumped it with his own.
"Now we got a party, how 'bout we start it and-"
The man turned around and stopped when he saw Nathan, towering over him. He was quite short compared to the Waster, and his smile was then replaced with a surprised gape.
"Wow, I knew they were going to send in some muscle, but man!" the shorter man observed, his eyes going up and down Nathan's body. "You gotta show me your regimen, man!"
"Uh…" the Courier could only perk an eyebrow. "Who…?"
Lena then jumped in between them, placing a hand on Nathan's shoulder.
"Oh, I should've introduced you guys, first," she said, a bit sheepish. "Nathan, this is Lúcio. One of the best musicians alive!"
"Lúcio" smiled at that, holding a hand to his chest to contain the pride.
"And Lúcio, this is Nathan. He's our… Well... He good at what he does."
"I can respect that," Lúcio says, before holding out a hand to shake. Nathan then taking it with some hesitation before they all finally sat down. "Welcome to the party."
Lena and Lúcio started to break the ice first, casually discussing some things while Nathan sat there in one seat, watching them. Occasionally looking around and trying his best to bear the noise. Watching the small crowd of people dance and flail their bodies around to the music. Their moves as erratic as the beat.
"Well, Lúcio, I'll get straight to it," the undercover Overwatch agent stated. "Why did you want to contact us?"
"For starters, I wanted to know if you guys could provide some extra security for a concert I'm hosting here. The last concert I'm hosting here before I leave the city," the musician explained, pouring her a drink. "Ever since Doomfist attacked, spirits have been a bit down around here. So, I'm sure having you guys around will make everyone feel more at ease. Even if you guys aren't technically 'here'. Besides, a lot of stuff has been happening around the world lately and I don't think Numbani is clear of it, yet. But… That's not the only reason I called you guys here."
"What's the other reason, then?"
Lúcio looked at her before closing his eyes and taking a deep sigh. Addressing her again after the air escaped his lips.
"I want to join Overwatch."
Even with the music blaring, Nathan's ears perked and snapped to the man musician on the couch. Tracer also had an adverse reaction to his wish.
"Woah, that's quite a big commitment," the Overwatch agent observed, wide-eyed. "Are you really sure about this?"
"Have been since I heard about you guys' stunt at the museum," the musician said, with a serious face. "And your stunt at London. Egypt. Germany. China. And I could go on but I don't think we have the time… So, what's it gonna be?"
Before Lena could even voice her opinion, she felt a large hand grace her shoulder.
"Oxton, can I speak to you for a moment?" he requested, obvious that it was about the dreadlocked man in front of her.
She excused herself before following Nathan to the opposite corner of the room. One look on his face showed he wasn't very excited about they're possible recruit.
"You can't seriously be considering this, are you?" Brin discussed, scarred, muscly arms crossed over his chest.
"I don't know," Oxton admitted, her eyes peering back at the couch. "But I do know that Lúcio is an amazing individual and can do a lot of good. He's done so, before."
"Sure, but are you certain he'll fit right in with a military organization that employs a hulking German in power armor to a cybernetic ninja? You told me he's a musician."
"Are you worried about him?"
"I'm worried letting in him we'll cause something down the road. If Overwatch was the best of the best back in the day, what makes him qualified?"
"I'm sure Vishkar can answer that for you," they heard him speak next to Nathan, looking to see he had gotten off the couch and was next to them, his arms also crossed but with a smirk on his face. "Since I helped the people of Rio to evict them from our home; Leading a citywide rebellion, a pretty undertaking, you'd imagine. Would I have preferred a more peaceful solution? Sure. Was I willing to fight for the freedom of my people? You bet. Am I willing to prove myself to help the world by joining you guys? One-Hundred Percent."
The two just looked at him, Lena widening her eyes as Nathan narrowed his eyes. After a couple of moments of relative silence, the three then heard cheering erupting from the back of the room and looked to see Zenyatta amid a crowd of onlookers, cheering him on as he dances in coordination with the music. Robotic mannerisms and fanciful manipulation of his orbs. The Courier then looked back at Lúcio.
'A robotic monk, a time-jumping Brit, and a psychotic Wastelander…' he mused in his head, listing off the individuals in this room alone. 'What's another oddity to our ranks?'
"Y'know what? Whatever," he relented to the musician, deflating. "I'm not a part of the employment process anyway. I hope we're not just here on a recruitment drive…"
Hey guys, PoeticPillock here! I'm sure some of you have noticed that this takes place a couple week after the last chapter. I did that because I felt the story was progressing a bit too slowly than I would've preferred, as there are a lot of cool ideas I have in mind that I really want to show you all, but it felt like forever just getting to that point. I may have to do it again in the future, but we'll see. Thanks for reading!
