HitSpy: Absolution

Act 1, Scene 2

HitSpy could see why everyone was dressed so fancy; this was a very fancy train. Scout looked very uncomfortable in his newly acquired suit, which amused HitSpy to no end, but it made them stand out just a little. HitSpy had decided to forego his mask, as that would draw a ton of unwanted attention, but when he had searched his gear for his mask, he realized that he didn't even have it. This had come as quite a shock to him, but he supposed that it was probably for the best; Blu would be hunting for the mask, not the face, which gave him an edge.

This train was comfortably fashionable, but it still carried a small sense of dread on it, one that kept HitSpy on edge. He was trying to find a room to bunk in, as this passenger train had whole cabins, but he soon found that most passengers had paid for their tickets, which also opened their cabins, and that it was by sheer luck that the conductor had not asked them for theirs. HitSpy was going to have to steal one from one of the passengers.

HitSpy felt a lot better about stealing from innocent people. He quickly secured a ticket from a passenger, and had already developed a story that would explain why he was in their room with a teenage boy.

"The Conductor switched our rooms", HitSpy practiced saying, "and said that you should talk to him about securing one."

He had also made up a backstory for him and Scout, and it had already come in use, when a happy couple had asked him what was up.

"I am taking my nephew to go sightseeing", HitSpy had said, smacking Scout on the shoulder.

Scout glared at him, and rubbed his shoulder, but it satisfied the happy people, and they left them alone.

HitSpy had armed himself with a cloaking watch, and had taken his disguise kit as well, just in case. He also took the silenced pistol that he had procured, and gave the Derringer to Scout, asking for him to hold onto it until they had made it to the Engineer.

HitSpy had given his silenced dual-wield Ambassadors to Dell before he had left Red team for a time, so he didn't have those on him; Dell also had a large quantity of his gadgets, which was the main reason why HitSpy wanted to try and find him first.

Before Blu had taken over, Spy wanted to take a break from all of the action, and took a nice, lovely vacation. When he got back to the Gravel Pits, he found that Blu had taken over practically all of America. Spy was the man who went on vacation when his team needed him most.

But HitSpy was the man who would enact the final Absolution.

HitSpy walked into the room that he had secured, and Scout walked in after him. After scouring the room for bugs, he sat down at the coffee table across from Scout, and began discussing the plan.

"Look, even if we can make it past Oklahoma, we still don't know exactly where the Engineer is. We could probably ask Red soldiers, but the real challenge will be getting past Oklahoma. We are going to have to rely heavily on stealth, which means we aren't going to go out of our way to kill anybody, no matter how guilty they are."

"Alright, so nobody dies."

"Wrong. Anyone who gets in our way is a potential target; we're just not going to go out of our way to kill anyone."

"Ok, so we kill everyone we see?"

"No, we kill anyone who sees US."

"I'm confused."

"We just kill whoever sees us."

"But-"

"We're going to be stealthy, and if anyone sees us, we kill them."

"…I think I'm getting it…"

"Good. Just follow my lead, and if someone sees you, then we will kill them."

"What if they're on Red?"

"Wha- Scout. We're not going to kill anyone on Red team, they're our allies!"

"OH, ok."

A knock on the door drew HitSpy away from this brain cell killing conversation, and he walked over to the door, silenced pistol drawn, and cracked open the door, with the barrel of the pistol firmly pressed against the door, where no one would see it. The pale light of the moon gave a strange silhouette to the man and woman who stood before him.

It was the couple he had stolen the ticket from.

"Excuse me, sir", the lady said, straightening up at the sight of HitSpy, "but I do believe that you have the wrong room; this is the one assigned to us by the Conductor."

"I am sorry", HitSpy said, using his Chicago Commoner voice, "but the Conductor must have made a mistake in giving this room to you; it is already occupied."

Great; he was already deviating from the original plan. At least his argument made sense, though.

"Well, I don't believe it; the Conductor himself gave us this room!"

HitSpy heard something in her voice; a crack, but not one that comes from overstraining the vocal cords. She was trying to cover up an accent. That struck suspicion in HitSpy, and he immediately put his finger on the trigger of the silenced pistol facing them behind the door.

In fact, if he looked at her right, this woman looked familiar…

"What is your name, ma'am", HitSpy asked the woman, keeping his facial features steady, "so that I may complain to the Conductor for you?"

"You do not need to know my name", the woman snapped, her accent showing further; French.

"But I must", HitSpy insisted, "I only want to help you, madam."

"Hey, don't talk to my girlfriend like that", the gentleman next to her snapped.

"Oh, this is your girlfriend?" HitSpy probed.

"Yeah, that's right, bub! And if you lay a hand on her-"

"When did you meet her?"

"EXCUSE ME?!"

"You are such an adorable couple; I merely wish to know when you two met", HitSpy said, as he fixed a glare on the woman. "She doesn't seem to be the kind that could hold a relationship for more than a week."

"Watch your mouth", the woman countered.

"Mine? You can't keep yours shut!"

"Hey, DON'T TALK TO HER LIKE THAT!"

"Keep mine shut?! Why, I'll have you know that I didn't tell Blutslauger a wor-"

She stopped, mid-sentence. Her boyfriend looked over at her, confusion rising on his complexion…

And then something clicked in his mind.

"W-wait, you know this man?"

"I used to", the woman replied, as she sent an angry glare at HitSpy and explained, "long before I realized that he was a coward."

"I was not supposed to run to your aid", HitSpy countered, "YOU were supposed to be self-sufficient! And now, look! Who do you work for now, hm?"

The woman clenched her jaw, but the man's face contorted in terror.

"Y-you're a hooker?!"

The woman turned around to face her boyfriend, and slapped him across the face.

"No, idiot! I am not a hooker!"

"H-hey! How was I supposed to know?!"

"You should not make such startling inferences about your woman", HitSpy offered to the gentleman.

"Yeah? Says the guy who… did… something bad to her!"

"I didn't do anything", HitSpy replied, as he glanced back at the woman, "and that was the point."

The woman stared at HitSpy for a while more, and then grabbed her boyfriend by the arm.

"Come on, Harold", she told her boyfriend, "let's leave. We'll find another room."

The couple walked down the hall together in silence. HitSpy lowered the silenced pistol, and replaced it to his suit. He walked back over to where Scout was, and HitSpy could already tell that Scout had used all his willpower not to interject into the conversation prior.

"To answer your question", HitSpy said to Scout, long before the boy even opened his mouth to ask, "In the final days of Red, I trained several Spies, hoping that I could cover more ground if I had more students; she was one of them. To answer your other question, no, she is not a threat. I doubt that she is actually working for Blu, and even if she was, she would not turn us in. And to answer your final question, yes, I may have to go talk to her, preferably before the night's end. I will leave you the silenced pistol, and I will take my knife."

Scout smirked, and opened his mouth to speak.

"And to answer THAT question", HitSpy interjected, "no, that was not a sexual innuendo."

After the two men… well, man and BOY… had had their discussion, HitSpy had decided that it was time to go talk to his student. Handing Scout the silenced pistol, he produced a Butterfly Knife. Confident that he knew what he was doing, he slid open the door, and stepped out into the hallway of the fancy train.

He took another moment to check on his surroundings; practically no one was out, since it was nighttime, so it would probably be odd if someone saw him. It was a good thing that he had taken the Stealth Cloak Watch, the Cloak and Dagger. He thought about how he would find his student, and suddenly realized that he didn't know where she was. If he was going to find her, it would be by sheer wit alone.

And his amazing tracking skills.

He got into the zone, remembering that his student had exited his doorframe to the left. Turning, he walked in the direction of which she had left. He noticed that there were several other passenger rooms, and he also noticed that not a single one of them (in this car, anyway), held his student.

She had quit after she failed her third mission because of the emotional and physical strain that it put on her, on top of several of her family members dying while she was away. The French accent was one that HitSpy had drilled into her, so that she had an accent to disguise her normal voice; it seemed as though she only used it when she was angry, now.

Her third mission had been to steal the enemy intelligence, which should have been easy, but it didn't help that three Pyros, two Engineers, a Heavy, and another Spy were guarding it. His student wasn't ready for that kind of punishment. She had been captured, and beaten severely, before he had found her.

He had to fight his way out, carrying both her and the intelligence. How they made it out alive was beyond his comprehension. Nevertheless, his student held a grudge against him, figuring that he had left her to die. His argument had been that if he HAD left her to die, then she would be DEAD. She wasn't so easily convinced. He had tried to tell her about the bad intel, but she wouldn't have any of it, saying that it was far too late to make excuses.

She had left the program soon after. That may have been the only thing that saved her; when HitSpy had returned from his vacation, all of his other students were dead.

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of someone screaming, "Up-tup, Post!"

HitSpy immediately hugged the wall, arming his stealth cloak.

"About… face!"

HitSpy yanked his Butterfly Knife out. He could hear about seven soldiers, just around the corner.

"Forward… march!"

And they were coming right at him.

As soon as the sound of boots came closer, he activated his cloak. Because he was standing still, the Cloak and Dagger would stay on for as long as he needed it to. The soldiers, who wore blue overcoats, walked right past him; there were six Privates, and one Sergeant who had his sleeves rolled up, with a Sergeant's bars on each arm, an ace of spades and a pack of cigarettes strapped to his helmet, and a .45 holstered on his belt. All the Privates were armed with Reserve Shooters that had been modified with silencers.

The soldier's faces were all alike, their gazes steeled, but without the air of intelligence that a normal human held. These were clones, bred in a laboratory, made for war, and little else. They were the main infantry of the Blu's, cheap and easy to make, and even easier to maintain, and not much of a liability if they died. Blu had made them in secret, and used them to take over America in days.

They were headed for his room.

He couldn't let them reach Scout; the next part of his plan depended on him. He crept up slowly behind the Sergeant, his butterfly knife flipping around in his hand, the blade now protruding…

The soldiers stopped, and turned to their right, facing HitSpy's room.

Merde. HitSpy flattened up against the wall, right as the Sergeant bypassed his troops, and knocked on the door. Scout opened it.

He had forgotten to tell the boy not to answer the door; how could he have been so stupid? He knew that Scout would do something idiotic like that!

As soon as the Sergeant saw Scout, he clicked his heels together, and produced a piece of paper from his back pocket. Scout, with terror in his eyes, tried to close the door, but the Sergeant kicked the door back open, causing Scout to stumble back. The Sergeant entered the room, and the rest of the soldiers outside remained, covering the door without saying a word.

The Sergeant stared at Scout for a moment, and said, "Do you know what your mission is?"

Things began to click in HitSpy's mind; this Sergeant was under the impression that Scout was working for them, which could only mean…

Oh, no…

"Um… n-no?"

"Did you finish your objective, Spy?"

No…

"I, uh… yes?"

"Good! Then you will report to Field Commander Barns as soon as you can!"

"Um… what?"

"Yes, Maggot! Field Commander Barns is stationed in the ruins of a police station in Broken Arrow, Oklahoma! You will make your way to him, and tell him that you completed your objective… then, you will ask him what the next objective is… then, you will complete that next objective, and then, you will report to him again, and ask for another one, and then you will compete that, too! DO I MAKE MYSELF CLEAR?!"

"Y-yeah!"

The Sergeant stared at him for a moment, and mumbled, "That's odd…"

No. Please, not Scout…

"I thought that you were supposed to be blond!"

Scout, do not screw this up, was the silent plea of HitSpy.

"Oh, yeah, I am, actually! It's, uh… it's Sandy Blond."

The Sergeant stared at Scout for a good minute, and Scout stared back, with the same look on his face that he had when he had informed Mrs. Pauling that they were both busy.

HitSpy opened his knife, and crept over to the nearest soldier, prepared to strike them all down if necessary…

"Well, then", the Sergeant said, as he straightened his coat, "that clears up everything for me! Men! About-face!"

All of the soldiers turned around, pointing in the direction of which they came. HitSpy flattened himself against the wall again, hoping that they wouldn't touch him.

"Forward… march!"

They all began marching in unison, the Sergeant following close behind them. They marched away, and as the sounds of marching got quieter, Scout breathed a sigh of relief.

"Thank God", Scout said, as HitSpy materialized in front of him. Scout screamed like a girl, and jumped back a few feet, raising his hands defensively, until he realized who it was.

"You've got to stop doing that!" he scolded at HitSpy.

"Naturally", HitSpy commented, as he held out his hand. "I am going to need the silenced pistol for this."

Scout relented, yanking the pistol from the waist of his pants, and handing it to HitSpy. HitSpy accepted it, and walked back out of the room, trying to shadow the soldiers. Following them wasn't very difficult; they seemed oblivious to almost everything.

Eventually, HitSpy followed the soldiers to the next car, and could see, just ahead of the column, his former student entering another cabin.

I can sneak around these soldiers and talk to my student, HitSpy thought to himself, but by the way those soldiers were talking to Scout, it sounds like she's working for Blu. I may very well have to kill her by the night's end, but… I need to build up the courage to do so. She was my Protégé, after all. I'll follow those soldiers for now, and deal with them accordingly.

They walked on, for a little while longer, and they finally reached a car that looked like a barracks. Inside, the soldiers all placed their silenced shotguns onto a gun rack, and the Sergeant walked over to a radio sitting on a table pushed up against the wall. Upon turning a few nobs, static began emitting from the radio. Suddenly, a voice broke through the white noise.

"Sergeant, report."

The Sergeant visibly straightened, and said, "Good evening, Field Commander! Your spy is on his way!"

"His", the Field Commander said, confusion bubbling in his voice, "I thought my spy was female?"

"Maybe he was trying to protect his identity, sir", the Sergeant replied, "or maybe he just forgot what gender he was."

"That last idea was stupid", the Field Commander said, "but the first might be insightful. Good idea, Sergeant."

"Yes, sir! I have been called the Forrest Gump of smartness, which I can only assume means that I'm really fast!"

"Forrest Gump was a mentally retarded person", the Field Commander informed the Sergeant.

"Oh", the Sergeant replied, visibly shrinking.

"Anyway, good work, Sergeant. I've got business to attend to, so don't bother me unless it's an emergency!"

"Yes, sir!"

"Over and out", the Field Commander said, as the channel returned to static.

The Sergeant twisted the nobs back into their original place, and walked over to where four Privates were playing cards. He quickly sat down, intent on joining them.

First thing's first, HitSpy thought to himself, I need to destroy that radio. If things go awry, I don't want them calling for help.

Letting his cloak recharge, he slipped into the barracks, and walked over to the radio. When he was certain no one was looking, he quickly ripped the cords out of the back of the radio, and hid them where he thought no one would notice.

He stood still, letting his cloak regenerate, and then turned around to check out the rest of the barracks. The silenced shotguns had mostly been stocked on the gun rack that set just before the beds. No one would notice if one of those went missing, mainly because there were so many of them. HitSpy quickly grabbed one with a sling, and slung it over his shoulder. His cloak enveloped the shotgun. Above the shotguns, on the same rack, sat boxes of shells. HitSpy ignored them for now. Turning, he saw a bandolier full of grenades not far from the rack, just lying on the ground. He picked them up as well, thinking of all of the uses grenades had.

He was about to grab another shotgun, when suddenly, a Private yelled, "No!", and quickly rushed over to where HitSpy was standing. HitSpy moved out of the way, and pulled out his knife, preparing for a close quarters battle, when the soldier ran right past him, and examined the gun rack.

"My shotgun", he cried out, drawing everyone's attention. HitSpy began inching towards the door, careful not to move too fast.

"Someone got hotdog grease on my shotgun!"

Well, at least they didn't notice the missing shotgun.

"Noooooooo", the soldier cried dramatically, falling to his knees, and putting his head in his hands.

"Get a hold of yourself, Maggot", the Sergeant screamed from across the room, "and clean your firearm! You Maggots are nothin' but a bunch of cowards! Crying over spilt hotdogs!"

HitSpy was fairly certain that he could take seven soldiers no problem, but he didn't want to cause too much commotion. He would pick off the two standing around, and then go for the five at the card table. That was a simple plan, and would cause the least commotion. He slipped out of the barracks, finding a bathroom stall just outside. Perfect.

Pulling some coins out of his pocket, he threw one next to the soldier by the gun rack. It caught his attention, and he went to look at the coin. Picking it up, he quickly put it in his pocket, proclaiming, "Mine!"

HitSpy threw another coin, unsatisfied with the events prior. This time, the Private had seen where it had come from. Without telling anyone, he went over to HitSpy's location, in order to check it out.

After he cleared the door, HitSpy grabbed him by the collar, and yanked him out of sight of the others. He brought his knife into the soldier's palette. The soldier twitched once, and then went limp.

HitSpy waited for a moment, to make sure no one heard or saw the clone disappearing. After a moment, he was confident that there was no reaction. He opened the bathroom stall, and quickly shoved the soldier in. HitSpy reactivated his cloak, and crept back into the barracks.

He quickly located the other soldier who was standing around; he was playing with a grenade, tossing it back and forth between his hands. HitSpy was tempted to shoot the grenade in his hands, but that would attract a lot of unwanted attention.

Instead, he armed his disguise kit, and disguised himself as the soldier he had dispatched. He walked up to the other soldier, saying, "Follow me, comrade!"

The other soldier looked confused, then shrugged his shoulders and nodded, saying, "Okay!"

HitSpy led the other soldier to the same lavatory, and turned to him, saying, "I never really was on your side."

He took the soldier's head in his hands, and quickly twisted it around. A snapping sound met his ear quite nicely. He stuffed the soldier into the lavatory behind the first, content that he was ready to make his move.

Silenced pistol in one hand, and silenced shotgun in the other, HitSpy armed his cloak, and walked back into the barracks. He walked right up to the card table, and disarmed his cloaking device.

"Spy!" the Sergeant cried out, as he reached for the .45 on his hip.

HitSpy unloaded the silenced shotgun into the Sergeant's face, making a plunk noise, turning his head into a red spot on the wall behind him. He dropped the shotgun, and used the pistol to fire a round into each of the four soldiers.

He walked over to the card table, noticing that two of the soldiers were still moving. He turned the pistol on the first one, who was leaning back in his chair, clutching his bleeding trachea, and decided that he would not be a problem, and turned it on the other soldier, who was clutching his gut. HitSpy put a round into his right lung. The soldier twisted in his chair, falling over onto the floor. He clutched at the ground, probably trying to crawl away. HitSpy put a round into the back of his head, and he moved no more.

The wall was splashed with blood, and a blood puddle was beginning to form on the table, as well as underneath it. HitSpy admired his work. He had no reservations about killing clones even slightly, mainly because they weren't really people, and the primary purpose of their creation was the destruction of people like him; rebels.

On a second thought, he turned the silenced pistol on the soldier with the throat wound, and pulled the trigger. The only sound that met him was a click. The silenced pistol was out of ammo. Such was his luck.

Leaving the silenced pistol in the Sergeant's lap, he took the .45 off the Sergeant's hip. Then he yanked two shotguns off the rack, and a twenty shell box of ammo as well, and trekked back to his room.

Several cars and no awkward encounters later, he made it to his room. He decided to hold off on talking to his student until later, mainly because he figured it would involve a lot of noise. When Scout opened the door, HitSpy threw Scout a shotgun, and went to the two beds in the room, placing the other shotgun underneath it, as well as the box of shells, and the grenade bandolier. HitSpy was beginning to have reservations about bringing the grenade bandolier with him. It was hard to hide, and would be harder to move around with, especially when he inevitably had to leave the train.

Turning to Scout, HitSpy said, "If anyone other than me comes to the door, do not hesitate to shoot them. I'm going to have a talk with my former student."

To this, Scout grinned, and made a hand gesture that was so childish, that HitSpy actually slapped his own face.

"No, Scout. Nothing like that."

He turned to leave the room, .45 now in his hand, and held behind his back.

"Hey, if you ain't gonna do it, I sure as Hell am; that dame is hot, man!"

"You wouldn't get within two feet of her, and neither would I. That's why I'm bringing the gun."

He left his room, his confidence leaving him already. He put on a brave face and continued on anyway, intent on ending his problems with this train tonight. He took a few steps outside his door, and decided to disguise himself as the Sergeant he had dispatched earlier.

As he walked the train corridor, he could hear almost perfect stillness, with the occasional mumbled talking. HitSpy was fully aware that silenced firearms were not exactly silent, but he had hoped they would be quiet enough for his actions against the squad of soldiers to go unnoticed by any curious passengers. Judging by the fact that no one was running up and down the halls screaming, he was pretty sure that the silencers had done their job to the extent necessary of the situation. Trains were loud, so any noise would have probably been shrugged off by bystanders as something the train had run over.

All of these thoughts came to a close as he reached his student's car. Standing up straight, he quickly knocked on the door.

His student answered, her face as unreadable as a dead man's.

"Sergeant", his student said, with a hint of mockery creeping into her voice, "where are all of your soldiers? In these hard times, one can never be too careful."

"Desperate times. Field Commander Barns wishes to speak with you via radio. Since it's too heavy, you're going to have to go to it. Please follow me."

"Indeed", his student said, stepping out of the room. "My boyfriend is asleep. Let us keep it that way."

"Roger that", HitSpy replied in Soldier's voice once more. The two walked down the hall in silence, finally coming to the barracks. When HitSpy opened the door to let her through, she stepped in without question. HitSpy quickly walked in and closed the door behind him. The room was still, given that the soldier with the neck wound would have bled out long before anyone could have gotten to him.

"I would have expected no less amount of carnage from you, Spy", she said, as she scanned the room.

"What gave me away", HitSpy asked, his voice returning to normal, and his disguise falling around him.

"Well, you act nothing like a Soldier, you're far too polite; you had no soldiers under your command, and the dead bodies and all the blood certainly don't help the façade you've created."

"I see. Do you think I'll need the pistol for our next conversation?"

"I won't stop you if you think it's necessary."

HitSpy decided that it would be necessary. He pointed to one of the not so blood-soaked beds, and his student obediently took a seat. HitSpy grabbed the unoccupied foldable chair from the card table, and pulled it up closer to the bed. He sat down, the pistol trailed lazily on his student.

"So", his student began, giving a lazy yawn, "I guess now is the time that you tell me I'm going to end up like them?"

"Now is the time when I start asking questions."

"If you're wondering to my allegiance, I'll have you know that all of my Blu handlers have a track record of mysteriously turning up dead."

"I have no doubt that they do, and I have no doubt that Field Commander Barns will meet the same fate."

"Right you are. So, what were these, 'questions', you had to ask?"

"Since my time with Red", HitSpy said, his voice never wavering, "my only friends have been mercenaries, psychopaths, and mentally unstable people who throw jars of piss at one another for their own amusement. During your time on the outside, you've undoubtedly met good people. Tell me… how does a good man… know when to kill?"

Author's Note: I would just like to impress the fact that this is from almost ten years ago, when I was still a youngster, and quite cringe.