"Hey, Boss... You expecting company?" John Doe asked McCree through his comms.

"Not really. Keep your sights on 'em. Don't want them pulling anything."

"That'll be a problem. There's a fuckin bus load of them. This here gauss rifle can blow a few apart, but..."

"How far out?"

"A minute or two... Damn are they armed... I'm guessing government."

"Slow them down."

"Fuck yeah." Suddenly a few large blasts were heard, followed by the sound of screeching brakes, then yelling. "They'll be callin a wrecker, but they're still comming."

"Damnit. Let's go."

"Boss! More are coming from the south! It's a setup!" More blasts can be heard. "Swapping batteries!"

"John! Get out of here!...John?"

"...Little late for that boss... Run."

_Later that day_

John sat in a blank room with one-way mirrors around on three sides. He was sitting at the table, a fairly regular looking teenager, dirty blonde hair, piercing in one ear, dirty brown leather coat, pair of denim jeans, a pair of decent work boots, and cuffs on his hands hooked to the table next to his tattered cowboy hat.

A man in a suit entered and closed the door behind him. He tossed a folder of documents on the table. A few pictures slipped out, one a satellite image of John on top of a Mesa, looking through the scope of his rifle. Another, McCree teaching him how to shoot with revolvers, yet another with Ashe doing the same with a rifle.

"So, John Doe, real name John Wagner, age 14, parents deceased, father in combat, mother in mugging, sniper for the Deadlock gang. Am I missing anything?" John stared at him blankly. "I'm here to make an offer, one that you really can't refuse."

"I'm listening." John said, doubtful look spreading on his face.

"Instead of spending the rest of your life in a maximum security prison, which is no problem with your rapsheet, you could join Overwatch as a sniper, where you could put your skills to the test and do some good for the world."

"Really? Just like that?"

"Just like that."

"The catch being?"

"If you join and try to escape, we leave you in the middle of the ocean."

"...damnit... Fine."

"Is that a yes?"

"Yeah."

"Good. You'll need a code name... Oh wait, you already have one, don't you, Longshot?"

_A few months later_

John was stepping off the transport with his hands still in cuffs. "Longshot, you son of a bitch!" McCree said as he wandered over and placed an arm around his friend.

"They gotcha drug into this mess to, eh Boss?" John asked with the first smile on his face since he was captured.

"Yep, looks like they know where all the talent is. They're still finding people to do their dirty work."

"Heh, watch as we end up taking the fall for anything they fuck up with."

"McCree! Wagner! Get over here!" Commander Reyes shouted at them.

"Time for the briefing, kid." McCree said as he led John to the briefing tent.

"Took your time... Now that we're all here, the mission is extraction. We will be pulling out a group of civilians and doctors, including a Dr. Angela Ziegler from a medical facility. Priority is Dr. Ziegler. Under no circumstances is she to be injured or killed, or I'll see all of you put where you belong. Wagner, you'll be on top of the local antenna doing overwatch. If you so much as think about putting this mission in danger, I will..."

"Leaving me in the middle of the ocean is the go-to threat." John said before Reyes could finish. The entire room looked at him in surprise, save McCree who put his head in his hand.

"Go. Leave and get your gear." Reyes said with malice dripping from every syllable. The rest of the room looked completely astounded as John got up and walked off.