TOP SECRET
-High priority-
Situational military status update #2151, Central Europe – Austria and Germany
Follow up report to assessment-file #155, Central Europe – Third Omnic Crisis.
Lt. Col. Samantha Carter, U.S. Department of Homeland Security, Prometheus Project Division
At 1130 hours local time our surveillance satellites captured a sufficient amount of raw data to justify a preliminary status update regarding the Omnic situation in central Europe. As shown by the photos attached to this report the joint efforts of the German and Austrian forces are slowly starting to gain ground after their initial struggle to apply an effective strategy. Taking into consideration how many Omnics the illegal Omnium (reference previous report) was able to release at a moment's notice and without any warning, this is hardly surprising. What is surprising, however, is the fact that the use of an electromagnetic bomb was only sufficient for stalling the enemies' advance for barely 20 hours. After this time period their forces were fully functional again. A phenomenon which had been discussed before (See attachments 1. Technical proof of concept #210 - Area 51 and 2. Hypothetical worst case scenario catalogue #155 – rogue AI). As of now the bulk of the Omnic troops is forced into a slow retreat.
Based on the available data two assumptions can made:
The Omnium incident in Austria is with all statistical probability not an isolated event, but an unplanned, unscheduled activation, which was not meant to happen like this.
There is currently no active God-Program commanding the Omnics.
Current prognoses suggest that an activation of a God-Program is likely and should be expected in the foreseeable future. The existence of further illegal Omnic production plants cannot be excluded at this point and should be taken into careful consideration. A larger scale uprising is within possible parameters.
UN involvement seems unlikely at this point and wouldn't prioritize US interests sufficiently.
Recommendation: Immediate initiation of the Damocles protocol and preparation to conduct a complete internal defense system isolation. STRATCOM is advised to disable digital launch procedures and switch to the corresponding analog Damocles protocol procedures. SOCOM is to be placed under direct command of the Prometheus Project Division and will be tasked with taking the necessary preparation for another Omnic uprising as specified in the Damocles protocol.
It is advised that the general public should not to be informed of these actions. Media control laws can be activated under national security regulations 72 – 098.
Possible orders have already been drafted and need to be signed by the president.
-/-
France, unknown place, unknown time
Savant was enjoying his more than elaborate dinner. More exactly, he was relishing the second of what would be six more courses. A sophisticated dinner had always been of the utmost importance to the politician, for it reflected wealth and status in an elegant, non swanky way. He also quite enjoyed the ceremonial character of dining, sitting down on a large table with fine silken table cloths, golden candlesticks, silver cutlery with classy engravings and only the finest china. He liked how one of his new maids served him each course with devotion, while the other always stood next to him, waiting to refill his glass of wine. She did nothing else but stand there and wait.
The food was delicious, and Savant enjoyed it almost as much as the classical music playing softly in the background. Oh yes, everything was going so well these days.
Savant smiled to himself as he chewed on a piece of perfectly prepared shrimp on garlic-truffle sauce. However, his peaceful dinner was interrupted by the door to the dining room opening and another maid entering.
"Forgive the interruption, Master, but Mr. Schrödinger is here to see you." The maid said and bowed deeply.
Chewing and swallowing slowly, Savant reached for a silk napkin and dabbed it gently over his lips. He took his time folding the napkin and placing it next to his plate, before replying calmly. "Oh yes. I have been expecting him. Send him in."
The maid nodded and stepped aside for Abraxas Schrödinger to enter the room. He nodded a polite thank you to the maid, who retreated immediately, closing the heavy door behind her.
"Thiery." He smiled a cold, calculating smile, adjusting the large deep red tie on his charcoal three piece suit.
"Good to see you, Abraxas." Savant also smiled, his version a lot more refined, less obvious and a parade example of what a politician's fake smile should look like. "Come, join me." He gestured to the seat to his side, before snapping his fingers at the maid next to him "You! Bring us the other bottle of red wine. I will not be sharing this piss with my... dear friend."
"The one reserved for special occasions, Master?" the maid asked innocently.
"Of course that one, dumb cunt. Now hurry up!" he hissed with a glare, the maid bowed quickly and immediately hurried away.
Mr. Schrödinger meanwhile opened the button on his jacket and sat down. "I'm afraid I'm not the bearer of great news, Thiery."
"Oh?" Savant perked up an eyebrow, but didn't seem surprised at all. Then again, it was always hard to tell if Savant really expected something to happen or if he only took it well. His poker face was one of a kind. A short smirk flashed over his lips before he turned his attention back to his dinner.
"Director Volskaya turned up dead yesterday morning." Abraxas said calmly. "Just like you suspected."
"Bad news indeed. I had hoped that my suspicion would be wrong, but it cannot be helped. Reaper was the only one who knew about Volskaya?" Savant asked.
"Yes, he and your former maid, Gerda." Schrödinger replied while crossing his legs and making himself comfortable in the offered chair.
Savant only shook his head. "She has no choice but to be loyal. Which leaves only one option."
Abraxas carefully cleared his throat. "Don't you think you are maybe jumping to conclusions in this case? I know you have been suspecting Reaper might not be as loyal to the cause as we had initially thought, but that he murdered Volskaya? And to what end?"
Savant chuckled deeply, apparently very much amused by Schrödinger's idea. "Oh, no, no. He didn't kill her, he wouldn't have the time for that. But he surely passed this information along to someone who does have the time and the motivation to get rid of Volskaya. Reaper is a traitor after all. Shame."
"That is pure speculation, Thiery. We don't know that." Abraxas stated calmly, his smart eyes pinned on Savant. The man had a way of commanding attention like no one else the attorney had ever met in his life. It was both quite fascinating and pretty scary.
"We don't? Of course we do, it's only logical. Think about it. Who has been hunting us down ever since the first day Talon appeared?"
"The former Overwatch Commander. Jack Morrison, I presume?"
"Correct. Morrison has been on the hunt for us ever since they shut down his silly club of heroes. Do you honestly think it's coincidence that every source of information we had in Overwatch has turned up dead over the course of the last few years? He learned something it seems. There is only one way to deal with traitors. Which is why Reaper has to go." Savant concluded. To him the entire question was crystal clear. Otherwise he wouldn't have let Reaper know about a deal with Volskaya, which had never existed.
However, Savant didn't like the frown on Schrödinger's face.
"That's unfortunately where I have to disagree." The attorney said calmly. "For all we know, Director Volskaya committed suicide. I bribed the necessary sources in Russia and they confirmed it, she shot her lover and then herself. Even left a hand written farewell letter. It all checks out. No sign of a third party being present, no inconsistencies at the crime scene or with the body. The scene shows no signs of being altered or tampered with, there is no additional DNA at the scene, no questionable ambiguities, nothing. For all we know, it was just bad timing." Abraxas explained uncomfortably. He would have liked to give his boss a better answer, something more definite.
"But Overwatch was there to pick up Sombra, just as we planned, correct?" Savant wanted to know.
"Correct, they took the bait." Schrödinger nodded.
"So, you are telling me it was a mere coincidence that the director conveniently committed suicide on the very same day Overwatch was there to snag Sombra?"
"As unlikely as it seems, all hard facts and evidence we have point to that being the case, yes. What happened gives us no clues if Reaper is a traitor, like you suspect. There is nothing militating against him and personally I think he is too valuable an asset to get rid of because of a hunch. He achieved great things since he took over."
Savant only grumbled.
"Also, I have to add that Reaper did everything in his power to find Sombra before Overwatch could. Maybe we should have let him in on our plans. If he had managed to find her before Overwatch did, we would have been back to square one. We were lucky that Volskaya was actively helping Overwatch. Otherwise Reaper and his agents might have very well been faster. He is working very thoroughly. I don't understand why you would accept the risk of Reaper finding Sombra before Overwatch does, if your plan is entirely based on her being at their base? Or is it just one of your double-games again and you really don't have any interest in Sombra after all? Are you going for an entirely different goal after all, Thiery? Something I don't get at all? It would explain why you'd offer Volskaya a deal like you did if you never had an interest in Sombra."
Savant chuckled deeply, greatly enjoying how the lawyer was fumbling in the dark. "Oh, I have all the interest in the world in Sombra, you got that quite right. She needs to be at Gibraltar and with Overwatch and not here. The deal with Volskaya? It was only bait for Reaper and nothing else. Bad bait as it seems because we have learned nothing." Savant smirked, piercing some more food with his fork and eyeing it carefully before putting it in his mouth with care. He chewed appreciatively before going on: "You should know me better by now. I have a plan for everything. Had Volskaya really agreed to the deal we offered, I would have gotten a truly great arms deal. Reaper would have been told to stand down and let Sombra get away in the last minute, effectively forcing her into Overwatch's arms. He would have been clear of any suspicions then. But it didn't happen this way, and I am not ashamed to admit bad planning on my behalf." Savant said, finishing the current course of his meal just in time for his maid to come back with the bottle of wine he had sent her for. She expertly poured Mr. Schrödinger a glass, before doing the same for Savant.
"I can't honestly say that I understand. It seems like an awfully complicated plan for what reason? Only to see if Reaper was loyal to us? Surely there would have been easier ways? I mean, you tested him before and he always passed. You are up to more, aren't you? Thiery, may I ask why it's so important for Sombra to be with Overwatch? You never shared that." he said, reaching for his glass.
Savant raised his glass and they clinked them together. Schrödinger took a sip, but Savant only smiled before placing the filigree crystal cup back on the table.
"I suppose I can tell you now." He smirked sinisterly. "She has no other choice but to go there. I've ordered her to do so after I forced her to upload the next god-program into her neural network. She has a surprise for their ridiculous AI. If you like drama, you could call her a Trojan horse if you want." He laughed at Schrödinger's expression. The lawyer was blinking rapidly, trying to loosen his tie. It was suddenly getting very hot, wasn't it? And why was his vision suddenly so blurry?
After he started wheezing, a choking sound and some unhealthy convulsions, Abraxas Schrödinger fell off his chair with bloodshot eyes and froth covering his mouth. He didn't move anymore.
Savant only glanced down at the dead body.
"I don't like underachiever." He said, turning his attention back to the next course his other maid had just served him. "Clean up the mess." He said easily "And when you're done, I want you two to go and get me the files on possible replacements for this..." he looked at Schrödinger's dead body "... disappointment. And my speech for my next public event. I want to say something about the decisiveness of Chancellor Adenauer and Kurz. Those two are doing great work for us without even knowing it." He said, glancing at his two maids. "What are you waiting for, better times? Get going!"
"Yes, Master." They said without hesitation, before they got to work. Savant smiled to himself, putting a piece of roast beef on his fork. He would have to think about what he would do with Reaper. His mind told him that Abraxas had made a valid point, but his gut still told him something was not right. And his gut was usually not wrong. It seemed that the time to contact Akande Ogundimu again had come.
-/-
Orca shuttle #21, four hours later, final approach to Watchpoint: Gibraltar
Silence was seldom comfortable. True, there were the rare occasions of tranquil quietness some people tended to share when they were completely comfortable around each other. But the deafening silence inside the Orca shuttle was nothing like that. No one in their right mind would have considered this to be comfortable. It was heavy, hanging over the shuttle like an all consuming veil.
It had been like this from the moment Widowmaker returned to the shuttle and the team was ready to leave St. Petersburg. Before that there had at least been some conversation. Sombra trying to wind up Zarya while she was being placed in one of the chairs and Zarya securely tied the hacker to the support bars, to prevent her from escaping. The insults Sombra came up with while Zarya had been trying to take all of the technology the Latina had handy away from her were almost hilarious. The hacker hadn't really protested, she just made sure to let Zarya know about her opinion. That, however, rapidly changed when Zarya was about to take Sombra's gloves away. The teasing undertone in her voice all but vanished and Sombra had tried to fight back fiercely, but ultimately was no match for the taller, stronger and not tied up weightlifter, who ripped the glove off from Sombra's fingers. The Latina had screamed and kicked, as it turned out not out of spite, but because the removal of her gloves caused her unimaginable pain. Her gloves were connected to her neural system and ripping them off caused her immense pain, numbing her skin and sending her nerves into a state of shock. No one knew about that.
Zarya had uttered something which could have both been an insult and an apology, before she stomped away, leaving Sombra in her chair, clutching her arm to her body.
In the end it had been Hana, who managed to talk Sombra into giving her the other glove, though Tracer didn't hear what her friend had said. She spent quite some time talking to the hacker though. Typically for Hana, she had been almost too kind.
That was the situation Widowmaker had walked into when she returned to the shuttle. With a raised brow and a reproachful look on her face she had told DVa to never make the mistake of lowering her guard around Sombra. At least not if she didn't want to get herself seriously hurt.
Sombra's playful smile froze in that moment, not that Amélie would have noticed or cared. She had already stalked off into a quiet corner of the shuttle, her heels clicking loudly on the metal floor until they were gone.
Ever after that it had been silent.
Zarya has been doing her workout, making no noise apart from some strained grunts every now and then.
Sombra was still seated in her seat, refusing to speak.
DVa chose to sit next to the hacker, but didn't talk either.
And Widowmaker? Well, she had moved to the couch in the corner of the shuttle, her legs crossed on top of the table and gazed out of the window. Her face was void of any expression or even a hint of emotion. There was nothing. For everyone else she might have been her usual regal self, carrying herself with an air of superiority and grace, but Lena knew better. Something was off about her girlfriend. Very much off.
When she asked her if something was wrong, all she got as a reply was an ever so faint smile and a weird "quite alright, chérie."
Luckily Tracer wouldn't have to wait much longer until she could go off to the side with Widow and ask what was bothering her. In a few moments they would land in Gibraltar, give Sombra to Morrison, maybe have a short mission debriefing and then do whatever they wanted.
Maybe some dinner. Lena sighed deeply at the thought of a warm, proper meal. That sounded rather heavenly as of now. She had only eaten sandwiches the last couple of days for some reason. She'd have time to change that soon.
The Orca smoothly completed its landing maneuver, touching the ground with a barely noticeable shake and stopping the engines. As the whirring died off, the pilot opened the shuttles loading bay door, while DVa was working on untying Sombra from her chair. Outside there were already a few soldiers clad in the dark blue Overwatch uniform, ready to escort the prisoner to the holding cells.
"So, what are you all going to do with me, now that you have me?" Sombra asked while the soldiers boarded the Orca, one of them taking out a set of zip-tie handcuffs from his belt.
"You'll have to wait and see." Tracer replied with a shrug. She could feel Widowmaker walking up behind her and noticed how Sombra's sight left her face and peered over her shoulder somewhere behind her. At least she did until the soldiers turned her around, cuffed her hands behind her back and were about to push her out of the shuttle.
"Honestly, I would have taken any bet you're dead, spider." Sombra said, trying to shake the strong hand of the soldier behind her off her shoulder, but failing.
"You watch your mouth." Amélie snarled as she walked past them, quickly leaving the shuttle. Tracer only stared after her, taking in the sight that was her girlfriend. Everything about her was gorgeous.
"Ma'am?" One of the soldiers sent to escort Sombra started, catching her attention. He was obviously waiting for something and Lena had to blink twice before she realized what it was.
"Oh, yes. Sorry. Take her to holding. We'll see what we do with her after debriefing."
"The Commander told us he is waiting in the command center for you and your team." the soldier informed her, and Lena nodded her understanding.
She turned to leave the Orca, walking down into the busy hangar with all the technicians running around, the flight personnel going about whatever business they had and of course the cargo crews driving around boxes of whatever stuff was inside.
Widowmaker was leaning on an ammo crate, her face still entirely void of any expression past annoyance and a tiny flicker of disgust. Where that came from was beyond Lena. She joined her pretty girlfriend, crossing her arms over her chest and trying to figure out how to best coax Widow out of the shell the French assassin had retreated into. They had to talk about what was bothering Amélie, sooner better than later.
"Sooo..." Lena started, not looking at her lover. Despite her being there, right next to Amélie, she felt so far away at the same time. Like there was an unscalable Wall starting to rise between them. "Want to hang out after the briefing?" she asked hopefully. Lena could only pray that Widow wouldn't decide to push her away now.
Widow merely nodded without saying so much as a word.
"My quarters?"
She nodded again, and Lena suppressed the urge to sigh. Her girlfriend was not in a talkative mood today. Which was nothing new, Widowmaker never was and would never be a chatterbox, but today she was uncharacteristically quiet. Even for her standards. Which was honestly starting to worry Lena more than she wanted to admit to herself. She thought they were long past the stage where Amélie would shut Lena out. It felt like she had been wrong about that. And that hurt.
"I'll need to talk to the Commander in private afterwards, though. I will join you when I am done." Widow stated, and Lena resisted the urge to ask her any questions, no matter how much she wanted to.
"Do I need to be jealous, hmm?" Lena asked with a badly suppressed giggle, trying to lighten up the mood a bit.
Amélie looked at her like someone just stole her favorite meal from right in front of her eyes. "Wha-"
"No worries, luv. I know you have to discuss your super secret mission with him." She smiled poking her girlfriend in the side as they both watched how Sombra was taken away by the guards with DVa hot on their heels, ranting about something. One of the soldiers was trying to get a word in, but the ever headstrong Ms. Song wouldn't have any of his interruptions. She was giving the poor guy hell for no apparent reason other than them doing their job. A part of Tracer thought it was kind of endearing how fierce DVa could be.
"I'd have slapped her by now." Widow stated coolly and only got a perked up eyebrow from Lena as a response.
"Hana!" Tracer yelled across the hangar. "Leave them alone, they know what they are doing. Go and get Zarya, we are meeting the Commander for debriefing."
"But, Unni, they are-"
"Haven't you heard your superior, little girl? You are wasting your time on that Mexican piece of trash. Do what Tracer said!" Widow hissed loudly and in a way only the scary assassin could ever pull off. Her voice was cutting through the hangar like a razorblade.
"She isn't trash!" DVa replied
"Hana! We haven't got all day." Tracer yelled again, putting a stop to the argument which was about to explode.
"Urhg, fine!" DVa shouted back, rolling her eyes. She just wanted to make sure that Sombra would be treated with the respect any human deserved. Not that DVa doubted this to be the case, but she still wanted to make sure. She didn't even know why. It was unnecessary, she knew and so, with a deep sigh, she turned and searched for Zarya. Still, she thought Sombra could have used some company. At least company which wasn't pushing her around and treat her like... well, like trash, as Widow had put it so bluntly.
Smiling, Lena pushed herself off the crate and turned to leave. "You coming, Blueberry? The sooner we are done with this, the sooner we have time for us." She said with a wink, actually managing to get a small smile in return from her lover. There was no teasing reply, no witty and slightly snide remark, nothing of the usual way Widow reacted. Yes, something was definitely bothering Amélie and Lena would find out what it was.
All the way to the command room Widowmaker followed silently, only one or two steps behind Lena. Like a dog following his owner. Their steps where echoing down the hallway as they both walked toward Lena's quarters. It was still dark outside with the moon shining brightly on the sky, dipping the world outside in a cool silver glint. Only far outside where the horizon met the edge of the world, the first few rays of a new sunshine could be spotted, bringing in some very dark orange colors. The ever so gentle early signs of yet another day. When Lena looked over her shoulder she found Amélie looking outside, but not really taking in the scenery. She was totally out of it.
Seriously, what is going on with her?
Lena groaned, reluctantly putting the thought to the side for now. First things first. She greeted the guard positioned at the entrance of the command center, and walked inside, closely followed by the former assassin. Navigating through the busy crowd of people working on their assigned projects Lena quickly found the meeting room in the back.
It was easy to see the Commander was already there, since the entire front wall of the room was made of glass, facing the command center. Morrison was sitting on a large wooden conference table in the middle of the room and drinking a cup of hot coffee. Lena had to admit that the Commander did in fact look a little tense the last couple of weeks. Even more tense than he usually did. She shook her head ever so slightly, not wanting to worry about him too, before she opened the glass door and entered.
"Welcome back, Agent Oxton." Morrison nodded as a greeting, before briefly acknowledging the second woman entering right behind Tracer. "Widowmaker."
"Boss," Lena saluted quickly before she took a seat on the table. Her girlfriend didn't react at all, she chose to stand right behind Lena.
Morrison perked up an eyebrow, words visibly forming on his tongue, but he didn't get to say them, as the door opened again. Zarya and DVa came in, greeted the Commander properly and seated themselves on the table.
"I take it the mission was a success?" Morrison wanted to know, reclining in his leather chair. The Commander looked tired these days. Worn. Like the years of hardship and struggle he had put into his work finally chose to show their signs.
"Absolutely. We have Sombra, she is currently being placed in the holding area." Lena informed the Commander, choosing not to say a word about his tired look. It wasn't her place after all. Maybe she'd ask Mercy to have a look at him one of these days? Would that be right?
"Any complications?" he wanted to know, turning his mug of coffee back and forth in between his hands.
"None." Tracer replied, scratching her chin in thought. "Well almost. She did try to run away, but didn't get far. We contained the situation quickly."
"Any damages resulting from that?" Morrison wanted to know, now leaning forward in his chair, making it creak just enough to be annoying. It wasn't like he could have done anything about eventual damages, but he still wanted to know.
That was when Widow snorted. "Other than her broken face? Non."
"You broke her face?" Morrison blinked in disbelieve. What was wrong with that Woman, seriously.
"What was I supposed to do? She ran against my heel." Widowmaker shrugged. "And then fell off a ramp. Her stupidity is not my fault. She tried to get away. I stopped that."
Morrison sighed audibly. "Is she hurt?" he asked, not really believing that he actually had to give voice to that question.
"Not from the beating Widowmaker gave her, Sir. Sombra is mostly unharmed apart from a few bruises. She is actually kinda nice, if you don't insult her all the time. Or rip her gloves off and hurt her in the process, yes?" DVa cut in, giving her Russian colleague a meaningful look.
"Gloves?" Morrison sighed. "Someone care to explain that?"
"Da. I stripped the prisoner of all technology she had on herself. That included her gloves. The prisoner didn't want to give them to me, so I took them from her. I was unaware her gloves were connected to her nerve system. " Zarya said stoically, standing perfectly still.
"So, is she injured? Yes or no?" Morrison demanded.
"We aren't sure, Sir." DVa replied and the Commander had to fight the urge to roll his eyes. They had no professional medic with them. Of course they couldn't be sure if Sombra was seriously injured or not. It still annoyed him.
"Alright, I'll have Ziegler give her a check-up and a little rest and then prepped for interrogation. Since you seem to get along with her, that will be your responsibility, Ms. Song." He informed the youngest member of Overwatch.
"Uhh... Sir, I don't do interrogation. I wouldn't even know where to start, even if I wanted to do it." Hana said firmly.
"I can do that. Just tell me what you need to know." Widow said, her voice lacking emotion in a more than creepy manner.
"NO!" DVa almost screamed, much to everyone surprise. She had almost jumped up from her seat and slammed both hands on the table. Noticing all eyes were on her, Hana's face turned pink and she immediately sat back down again, her hair falling into her face without her wiping it away. She was awkwardly hiding behind it.
"It would only take a few moments." Widowmaker stated with an uncaring shrug.
"As much as I do not like unjustified interruptions," Morrison glanced at Hana, who muttered a very quiet sorry, "I do have to agree with Ms. Song. Thank you for the offer Widowmaker, but we do have our own specialists for that." He said, now turning his full attention to DVa "As for you, Miss Song, I wanted you to oversee Sombra's time here. Not conduct the interrogation. You are responsible for her."
"U-understood, Sir." She replied, nervously playing with her fingers.
"Good. Anything else?" Morrison glanced into the group of his agents.
No one spoke up.
"Alright. Then you are dismissed." Morrison said and watched as the three agents who sat down got up and turned to leave. Widowmaker, however, didn't seem inclined to move even an inch, fully intent on staying where she was.
"See you later, luv?" Lena asked at the door and Amélie gave her an ever so faint smile and an equally unnoticeable nod.
"Oui." She replied for only Lena to hear, which caused Tracer to grin.
"Widowmaker still has business to discuss with me. I'd appreciate it if you wouldn't keep her distracted, Agent Oxton. You are dismissed."
"Uh, yes, boss. Didn't mean to." Tracer replied and closed the door behind her. The second she did, the glass got opaque, obstruction the view into the command center. It hadn't done that before.
"Any complications with Director Volskaya?" Morrison wanted to know, cutting straight to the chase. He knew that Widow wasn't one for small talk or beating around the bush and neither was he. They had business to talk about and nothing else.
"She is dead." Widowmaker stated with an eerie air of indifference around her. They were talking about the death of a human being, yet it sounded like they were discussing the weather. "Clean kill, her and her lover boy. It will look like murder suicide."
The Commander nodded in understanding. He hadn't really expected anything else. "Are you sure no one will suspect anything?"
"Oui. I did that dozens of times. It always worked. There are no witnesses, the police will think it was exactly what we want them to believe. The suicide note you provided me with will really help. Given that her handwriting is flawless in the fake, there won't be a doubt."
"The fake is perfect. Good job, Widowmaker. I have to say, I am impressed."
"I'm not." Amélie snorted with a shrug.
"Excuse me?"
"I said, I'm not impressed. You told me Volskaya had ties to Talon. That she double crossed you?" Widow asked, crossing her hands over her chest in a defiant manner.
Morrison nodded, interested where Widowmaker was going. "That's the intel Reaper passed along to me. He is usually right about these things."
"Not this time." Amélie stated firmly. "Volskaya had no idea why I was there. She didn't expect Talon at all."
Morrison blinked. "What makes you so sure?"
"Oh please. I know when people lie. And I know that they usually tell the truth when they are about to die." She said easily. She had heard many last words, more than she cared counting for. Most of them were nothing but the hard, cold truth.
An annoyed groan escaped Morrison's throat and he rubbed over his face with his palm. "If you suspected she hadn't contacted Talon, why did you kill her?"
"Because, Commander," Widow pronounced his title in such a mocking manner that Morrison actually felt a bit insulted. "You need to understand that once you point the finger at someone and say kill I will do that. No matter what, it will always happen." She hissed, not willing to explain why there was no other outcome to this scenario. "I do not change the objective, I do not make last minute adjustments, I will not get back to you and tell you about tiny details to make you reconsider. All I do is removing the target you gave me. No exceptions. If you send me to someone, you better be absolutely, one hundred percent sure that someone is guilty. Because when I come back, that person will be dead. That was our deal. I agreed to help you bring Talon down by killing whomever you need dead. I didn't agree to be your personal detective. You do that work. I just carry out the final blow." Widowmaker hissed, leaning onto the table and staring the Commander down. "I won't get involved beyond that point."
"That could be a problem." Morrison sighed.
"Your problem. Not mine." Widowmaker turned to the door and was about to leave, when she stopped. "Oh, and if I were you, I'd talk to Reaper and find out where that information of his came from. Because from what I remember thanks to dear Angela's therapy, Talon flushes out traitors with intel-baits like these. Just so you know. And now I'm gone, you know where I am should you need me the next time around. And be sure who you send me to, then. Au revoir." Widow waved and was gone.
The door clicked shut and Morrison had no way of seeing how badly Amélie started shaking once outside. She needed a moment to calm herself, pressing her hands together tightly to force them to stop shaking. A soldier walking past made the mistake to stare for a moment longer than Widowmaker liked, so she shot him one of her nastiest glares, one that clearly said fuck off or die. He got the message and hurried along.
Widowmaker groaned, she felt sick.
How was she going to explain this to Lena?
What had she done?
What should she have done?
She shouldn't have killed Volskaya. But it had been her assignment. Her job. She had to. Morrison didn't get it. She had to do it. He didn't understand. He gave her the job. She had to do it. Never disobey an assignment. Never change it. Do what you are told.
Widowmaker bit her lip hard enough to taste the familiar metallic taste of blood in her mouth.
Fuck, what was she going to do?
-/-
Office of Commander Jack Morrison, Watchpoint: Gibraltar, next day
The moment he entered his office Morrison went straight for his phone and slammed a number into the device. He had dialed it so often in the past that this particular combination of numbers would have been more than eligible for a quick-dial button, but the Commander didn't want to risk someone accidentally pressing the button. Not that anyone apart from him would ever be in this office when he wasn't around. But better safe than sorry.
Pressing the phone to his ear with his shoulder he sat down in his office chair, opening the bottom drawer of his desk. The dial tone was still beeping into his ear as he took a bottle of whisky out of the drawer and poured himself a generous glass. Internally he cursed Tracer for this particular habit, despite knowing full well that it was hardly her fault. He took a swig from the glass, before a clicking sound and a grumpy voice on in the phone made him put the glass back down.
"Finally I get a hold of you." Morrison said hoarsely, the liquor burning down his throat.
There was a deep snort of annoyance on the other end. "You must mistake me for someone without work." Reaper replied. He must have rolled his eyes behind his mask, his voice betrayed that much.
Morrison was slowly starting to get tired of Gabe's antics. "No, I apparently mistook you for someone who takes his responsibilities somewhat seriously." He snapped. "I just wanted to give you an update. We have Sombra, all according to plan. A team is already interrogating her."
"Good. Go straight for the big boss, we are rapidly running out of time. There is something going on and whatever it is, it will be bad. And it will happen soon."
"You don't need to tell me how to do my job, Reyes. I know we have little time." He sighed and, without really knowing why, added: "Say, am I the only one who thinks it's strange that Talon seemingly picks their speed up with the upcoming elections?"
There was a snort on the other end of the line "Are they really?" Reyes asked, forcing his old brother in arms to think again. "We are stressing out, Morrison. And even if they are, it doesn't matter we have our deadlines. There are a lot of reasons that Talon could be speeding things up. Maybe that Savant guy is on their payroll? His politics would be aggressive enough. But I am speculating. We can check that later, it's not our priority right now. I don't need to remind you that there are more important things to do. Like, you know, beating the bosses' identity out of Sombra." Reaper growls.
"We are working on it." Morrison said firmly, clutching the glass of whisky in his hands.
"Yeah, work faster."
"You say that. As you can imagine, to our shocking surprise she is not exactly cooperating." Jack rolled his eyes this time. Sometimes he wondered what his friend thought that they were doing at the Watchpoint. He sure as hell made it sound like it was all one big vacation.
"We were expecting that. You aren't losing your touch, are you?"
"Don't worry about it. She will talk eventually. What's another few days at this point."
"Possibly game-breaking, but whatever." Reaper grumbled. "In the meantime, I have been checking some older Talon Project. Especially our Biotech Division. The talk we had with Royce got me to that idea, you remember what I mean?"
"The moment you just ran off and left me hanging there? How could I forget. Great friend you are."
"You'll get over it. Thing is, Talon had a brilliant scientist working for them. She was a little bit like your stupid angel, just not so annoying. Actually got shit done. Her name was Moira O'Deorain. After she had fixed me up as good as she could she had been re-assigned. That alone is not the interesting part. The project she had been assigned to, however, is."
"What's that got to do with anything?" Morrison asked, not in the mood to listen to Reaper rambling on about history.
"Well, it had to do with the alteration of cloned DNA. We are talking about the parts that make us look the way we do. Like how our faces are shaped, how tall we are, our body type, eye color. Do you need me to continue why this could be relevant information to us?"
"No. What did you find out?" Morrison asks, taking another swig from the whisky.
"Apart from the fact that it was important enough that it almost ruined Talon's finances? Now who could be important enough to start an absurdly expensive gene-therapy program obviously set to change someone's looks?"
"Bossman?"
"It would be the obvious choice. We already suspected our mole from Overwatch might be the boss from Talon. If that is true, we have won."
"Let's not get ahead of ourselves just yet. We don't have anything to work with." Morrison said, not allowing himself to get his hopes up.
"Wrong. I know where the project was based." Reaper paused. "And it was right under our noses the entire time. I overlooked it the first time. But if you go to Ecopoint: Antarctica, you will find a secret basement. A gene-lab will be inside."
"Antarctica?" Morrison gasps.
"Precisely. And guess who is listed as a lab assistant? Let me answer that for you. Mei-Ling Zhou."
"Oh. She was the only survivor... of course she was. Good thing we took her out of the picture already." Morrison sighed. "I'll look into that lab thing." He said with a smile. It would seem that they were finally making some progress.
"You do that. But don't forget Sombra, we don't know if we find anything at the lab."
"You don't worry about that, I got it covered." Jack said. "Oh, there is something else I wanted to ask you."
"I'm tight on time, Morrison, make it fast. Gerda has been in my hair about whatever stuff she needs my attention for." Gabriel grumbled, trying to sound annoyed, but failing. Jack heard the badly hidden nuances in his old friend's voice but chose to say nothing about it. It wasn't his place.
"You told me you learned about Volskaya's deal with Talon through some protocols your maid-"
"She is not my maid, idiot." Reaper grunted.
"No? Well, whatever she is then." Morrison said before quickly continuing. "Anyway, she gave you the contracts Talon has with Volskaya and some extra protocols from their interactions, right?"
"Yeah? What about it?"
"Can you be certain that those were legit?" The commander asked, resting his elbows on his desk and staring into the dark brown liquid in the glass next to him.
"Why wouldn't they be legit? What are you talking about?"
"Well, I just talked to Widowmaker about her job. She killed Volskaya as instructed, but she insists that our dear director had no idea about any deal with Talon, that she didn't even know why Talon would be there."
"What are you talking about, where else would-" Reaper paused mid sentence, a less then welcome idea forcing it's way forward from the back of his head. "Shit." He uttered.
"Shit is a good word." Morrison agreed. "Listen, are we sure your cover is still in place? Did you send a team out to collect Sombra?"
"Of course I did, you hold me for an idiot? I did everything to make it seem like I am actually working toward that goal. They didn't find anything of course, we weren't actually tipped off about Sombra's location. Now it makes so much sense why Volskaya would make a deal with us but wouldn't send us a location to meet at. They never had a location in the first place. I always assumed we would be told last minute."
"And you notice that is a little strange now? Where is your head these days, brother?"
"It's not like I suspected it might be a test. Gotta go Morrison. Thanks for the heads up, but I'll need to lay low for a while and make sure my cover is undamaged. Are you all set on your end?"
"We are. Reyes, you could always pull out now, no one would think less of you. Royce certainly wouldn't. And neither would I, the risk was always high, but it just tripled."
"No. I will see this through till the end. I can still be useful."
And with that the connection terminated. Morrison sighed deeply, a wave of worry overcoming him for his best friend's wellbeing. That stubborn son of a bitch would one day get himself killed. But Morrison had no way of stopping him. He could only hope that this day would be in the far distant future and not one of these days.
He jugged down the rest of his whisky.
-/-
A/N:
Alrighty boys and girls, here we go for this chapter!
I know it was a little shorter than usual, but I am currently also writing (or not writing as much as I should tbh) term papers for this semester and I am a bit short on time.
Don't tell Amélie, she'll just be angry with me.
"Don't tell me what, hm?"
-nothing, nothing. I just said you always look out for me.
"Pff, if you get into trouble, I get into trouble, too."
-And here I thought you might actually like me.
"What gave you that idea? And it's not like anyone else would keep an eye on you."
And she is gone. Tsundere much? Oh well.
Thank you to everyone who left Favs, follows and Reviews! You guys rock and I love you. Really, I do. The amount of feedback I am getting for this is blowing me away!
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