//------------------------------// // Interlude 3: This Life's Never Uneventful // Story: The Reaper // by Blade Trail //------------------------------// McCree walked into the room Athena had assigned for him, both his stance and his stride as proud as always. When the automatic door slid shut behind him, however, he let out a heavy sigh and slumped. He was exhausted. And he hadn’t even really done anything in that last mission! How did that work? Was it the travel? Was it just age? Shaking his head, McCree took off his hat and hung it on the nearby rack. As he did the same with his gun belt, his hand hit the Overwatch medallion pinned to it. The medallion fell to the ground and rolled a short distance before ending up under the bed. McCree cursed softly and bent to retrieve the medallion, a few of his joints popping as he did so. “As if I didn’t feel old enough already,” McCree muttered. A few moments of blind reaching later, McCree retrieved the medallion and crashed onto the bed. He let out a satisfied sigh as his head hit the soft pillow. He would have been content to fall asleep right then and there, but a symbol painted on the ceiling caught his eye. The symbol resembled the Overwatch symbol, only red, black, and white, and with a stylized sword in the center. It was the symbol of Blackwatch. McCree lay there for a while, staring at the Blackwatch symbol. His thoughts wandered back to the mission he had just been on. It hadn’t been the type he was used to. It hadn’t been a raid, or a capture, or even an assassination. No, it had been a negotiation. A brokering of peace. A non-violent arbitration of hostilities. Not the kind of mission Blackwatch had ever handled, but pretty standard fare for Overwatch back in the day. He’d fucked it up pretty quick. Three sentences in, and everybody in the room was just about ready to pull a gun. Thankfully, Mei had been there. The girl was a charmer. She’d taken over just before things got hot, and actually managed to get both sides to reach an agreement. All while McCree tried his best to blend into the background. In the end, McCree bowed out and went home while Mei stayed behind to make sure both sides honored their parts of the deal. McCree lifted the Overwatch medallion up so he could see it beside the Blackwatch symbol. Both symbols shared some similarities, but also had many glaring differences. Try as you might, you couldn’t really mistake one for the other. One was the symbol of heroes, the other, of killers. One was the symbol that McCree had spent most of his life fighting under, and the other was the one that wanted his help now. But did they really know what they were asking? Did he really have what they needed him to give? Not of the first time, he asked himself, “What’re you doing here, McCree?” Athena’s voice spoke over the intercom, “Excuse me, McCree. Is this a bad time?” McCree closed his hand around the Overwatch medallion and sat up. “No, it’s fine. Too tired to sleep anyway.” “I can recommend several relaxation techniques to help manage your stress levels, if you are interested,” Athena said. “We also have a few herbal teas in in stock at the pantry.” “We do?” McCree asked, raising an eyebrow. “When did that - no, wait. Tell me why you contacted me first.” “Very well. As you may be aware, I have been attempting to recover as much of Overwatch’s old records as possible. For the most part, this has consisted of official personnel files and mission logs. However, I have recently come across some Blackwatch recordings that may be of interest to you stored in a personal drive.” “Blackwatch recordings, huh?” McCree asked, rubbing his chin. “Can’t imagine there’d be all that many of those. And from a personal drive, too? That’s breach of protocol. You’ve definitely got my attention. Do you know whose drive it was?” “As there were no identifying marks or labels, I cannot say for certain,” Athena replied. “Although based on the drive’s size, level of encryption, and contents, I do have an educated guess.” After a few moments of silence, McCree asked, “Well? Don’t leave me hangin’ now. Who?” “My apologies, McCree,” Athena replied. “I was creating a copy of the relevant data on this room’s terminal. I am still unused to handling the base’s network, and this particular terminal was still offline, so I had to -” “I get it. I get it,” McCree interrupted. “Now, my question, darlin’?” The computer terminal on the nearby desk turned on. “See for yourself,” Athena replied. “I believe we will no doubt come to the same conclusion.” McCree sighed and pushed himself out of bed. “Not like you to be this cryptic,” he remarked. “Consider it payback for repeatedly ignoring my instructions on smoking,” Athena shot back. “Woah, since when did you start learning sass?” McCree asked, amused. “Any new mannerisms I have learned, I have learned from those around me,” Athena replied. “If you do not like it, blame yourself.” McCree chuckled. “Alright. Alright. I’m sorry, ma’am. Now, let’s see what you’ve got here, shall we?” As soon as McCree sat down in front of the terminal, a video began to play. It was surveillance camera footage, so the quality wasn’t the best, but McCree still instantly recognized the two figures the camera was pointed at. “So you’re telling me your sword is magic?” Gabriel Reyes asked. Genji swiped his hand outward in a show of frustration. “For the last time, commander, it is just a sword!” Reyes nodded. “Yeah, sure, but when you pull it out, it becomes -” “It is not magic!” Genji interrupted. “For thirty minutes now, I have been telling you that it is not magic! Angela built it in this very lab!” “So Angela knows magic, then?” Reyes asked. “Of course not!” Genji replied. “Then how did she put the magic into the sword?” Reyes asked. Genji let out an angry cry. “She did no such thing! The sword has no magic! It is just a sword! How many times do I have to tell you that?” “Okay,” Reyes said. “But when you pull it out -” “The dragon comes from me!” Genji yelled. “I AM THE MAGIC!” “HA!” Reyes exclaimed, pointing at Genji with a wide smile. He reached to his ear and pressed his communicator. “You got that, Jesse? Tell me you got that!” Although his voice wasn’t recorded on the video, McCree murmured his response as he watched, “Uploading it now.” “Nice!” Reyes cheered. He turned back to Genji and said, “That’s going onto your profile, magic man.” “I hate you all,” Genji spat before turning around and walking away. As the video ended, McCree leaned back and chuckled. “It did go on his profile. Stayed there for years, too. Genji ‘I AM THE MAGIC’ Shimada. Complete with voice clip attachment.” “I was able to retrieve that as well,” Athena said. “Along with many others modified in a similar way. It all seems rather juvenile.” “Oh, it was,” McCree confirmed. “But all the same, it was pretty damn funny. And that’s not even the worst of it. Reyes was always pulling stunts like this on his downtime. Man had seen more action than just about anyone else alive, but somehow, he never lost his stupid sense of humor...not till the end, anyway.” There were a few moments of silence as Athena formulated a response and McCree thought back to the old days. “There are 57 additional clips of similarly light-hearted content. There are also numerous documents and files that have obviously been modified as pranks, and which I assume were saved for posterity before inevitably being reverted to their proper states.” Athena said, breaking the silence. “Given all that, I take it you now know who I believe once owned this drive?” “Yeah,” McCree replied. “Only one guy would have access to all of that...or be ballsy enough to keep a personal copy.” “Shall I send copies of the files to you terminal?” Athena asked. “Yes, please,” McCree replied. “Forget the tea, I think a trip down memory lane’s exactly what I need right now.” “I will proceed with the transfer momentarily,” Athena said. “And McCree? I am happy that this appears to have pulled you out of your slump. Please never doubt that you are a valuable and valued member of this organization.” “Really?” McCree asked lightly. “And here I was thinkin’ y’all were goin’ ‘round behind my back, tellin’ each other, ‘McCree? Fuck that guy!’” “I was not joking,” Athena said. “I know,” McCree replied. “And I appreciate it. Seriously. Thanks.” “You are welcome,” Athena said. “I will now begin the transfer process. It should complete momentarily. Feel free to watch at your leisure.” “Thanks again, Athena,” McCree said. “I think I’ll do just that.” ~~~ Hours later, McCree entered Winston’s makeshift laboratory carrying a portable playback device. He tripped on some wire as soon as he entered the door, but managed to catch himself before he fell over completely. “Who’s there?” Winston called out from somewhere inside the maze of machines. “It’s just me,” McCree called back. “Mind if I come in?” “Oh,” Winston replied, recognizing McCree’s voice. “Sure, just...be careful not to hit or touch anything in here. This is all very sensitive equipment, and given our current situation, pretty much all of it is irreplaceable.” “You got it,” McCree said. He began walking through the machines towards where he heard Winston’s voice originate. “The Shimada boys bring you all this? Wasn’t nearly this crowded last time I was in here.” “It was empty the last time you were in here,” Winston replied. “And yes, this is all thanks to Genji, Hanzo, and Zenyatta.” McCree let out a low whistle. “That’s impressive. Won’t even ask how they got the bigger stuff back to you in one piece. Or if they paid for it. Where are those boys anyway? Ain’t seen ‘em in a while.” “They’re out doing what they’ve been doing since they left here,” Winston said. “Collecting parts. They don’t even stop to eat or sleep at the base, only drop off parts and re-fuel. I can only assume they do their eating and sleeping during transit.” McCree turned a corner and finally found Winston. The scientist was hunched over an open panel, and had the look of one on the verge of collapse. “Doesn’t look like you’ve stopped to eat or sleep much either,” McCree pointed out. “Which...I really think you should.” Winston waved off McCree’s concerns. “This is nothing. All I’m doing is putting pieces together. You want to be worried about anyone, worry about the three doing the legwork.” “I can manage being worried about both at once,” McCree said. “You know you’re no good to us if you collapse, right? And operations are starting to pick up now. Everyone’s got to be at their best to do their part. Hell, I had to go out on a diplomatic mission today. That oughta tell ya how understaffed we are.” “Says the one who convinced me to take on this crazy project,” Winston said. “Ok, you got me there,” McCree said. “Sorry...guess this wasn’t such a good idea after all.” “No, you were right,” Winston said as he closed the panel he was working on and stepped back. “This needs to be done. Ignoring it goes against everything this organization stands for. But enough about that. Why are you here?” “Oh, right,” McCree said, bringing up the playback device. “Athena found some interesting stuff from back in the day. I’ve been looking through it.” “All night?” Winston asked, grinning. “It’s 3am, you know. What was that about getting some sleep?” McCree paused. “Fair ‘nuff. And I’ll get right on that. Just wanted to show you an old bet you had with Commander Reyes. Figured you’d get a kick out of it.” “No need to show me, I remember it,” Winston said. “Never forgot it, in fact. The things I could do with a year’s supply of peanut butter...” Winston’s stomach growled and McCree chuckled. “How about we settle for a day’s supply for now? I hear our pantry’s been stocked with herbal tea of all things, and I’m thinkin’ it’s high time I found out what else is in there. Care to join me?” “Well, I suppose I could afford to take a small break...” Winston mused. A nearby terminal screen flashed red. Winston furrowed his brow and went over to it. Upon closer inspection of the screen, Winston’s expression changed to one of shock, and he began to furiously type commands - several windows of reports appearing on screen in response. “What’s going on?” McCree asked. Winston roared and slammed his fists down on the terminal, smashing it. He then leapt up and over a nearby machine, disappearing from McCree’s view. McCree called out and chased after him, following him to what appeared to be a circular gateway to nothing in front of a metal cylinder. Winston keyed in a code on the cylinder and the top opened, revealing the Soul of the Wind. Winston gently pulled it out and examined it. What he saw caused him to sit down hard on the floor. “Winston, what is it? What’s going on?” McCree asked again. “See for yourself,” Winston said with a defeated sigh as he held out the Soul of the Wind. McCree examined the orb and found that it had lost practically all of its blue color. The orb was now mostly grey, with a few thin wisps of blue slowly drifting around. “I don’t understand,” McCree said. “What happened?” “We’re too late,” Winston replied. “And we were so close!” “Too late? What do you mean, too late?” Winston rubbed at his eyes with his free hand. “Simply put, the orb’s been losing power over time. Zenyatta attributes this to some sort of ‘darkness’ that’s feeding off of it and destroying the connection between our world, and whatever world’s on the other side of this thing. Whether that’s true or not, I need the orb to be able to output a certain amount of power to - if my theories are right - trace the way through and force open a path...But something just drained a massive amount of the orb's remaining reserves, and now it's just about to pass the minimum threshold.” McCree thought about Winston’s words for a few seconds. “That explains why you’ve been so hell bent on finishing this project as soon as possible.” “Yeah, but it didn’t matter in the end.” “Now hold on just a second,” McCree insisted. “You said ‘just about’. So it’s not past the minimum yet? You could still open the portal?” Winston let out an exasperated sigh. “Yes, if I had all the parts I needed, which I don’t.” “Well how many more do you need?” McCree pressed. “You said we were close.” “Two. Zenyatta and the Shimadas are bringing one here now. They should arrive within the hour. The other...I haven’t even found one that we could feasibly take,” Winston replied. His irritation flared. “It’s hopeless! We’re done! Wasted our time!” “That’s just the lack of sleep talking,” McCree said. “What’s the last part?” “Just let it go, McCree. We tried, and we failed. That’s just -” “Stop whining and answer me, damn it!” McCree shouted. “What is the last part?” Winston was momentarily taken aback by McCree’s forcefulness. “It...it’s the simplest one, actually. Or should be. A power source.” “That’s it?” McCree asked. “Can’t you use the the base’s power?” “If the base was completed to specifications and fully operational, sure, but it isn’t, and likely never will be. We’re talking about ripping open the fabric of space and time here, Jesse. The amount of power we need...well, in layman’s terms, it’s a lot.” “But it can be generated, right? Someone out there’s got a power source that could do it?” “I...yes, but...Jesse, we’re talking about an amount that could power - or level - a city! They don’t exactly make portable generators capable of doing that.” “Available to the general public,” McCree added. “What?” Winston asked. “C’mon, Winston, you know as well as I do that military tech’s far beyond that level at this point. Hell, look at the Omniums! That shit don’t run on AAA’s, that’s for sure!” Winston shook his head. “Even if that’s true, I still couldn’t tell you where to get what we need. And within an hour? Two, tops?” “There must be somewhere we can at least look,” McCree insisted. “I’m not giving up until the very last second.” Athena spoke. “The research centers located in Oasis, Iraq, are the closest locations where such a device may be found. They are also the most likely among the list of potential candidates Winston and I have been compiling.” “But we don’t know if they have something like that there!” Winston argued. “And even if we did, what would we do? Break into the most secure, most advanced research centers in the world and just take it?” “Sounds like a plan,” McCree said. He turned and started striding out of the room. “Athena, prep a transport. I’m heading to Oasis.” “Already done, McCree,” Athena replied. “Uploading a list of possible locations to the navigation systems now. You may choose one and search there. Be forewarned: you will likely have time for only one attempt.” “Then I just gotta get it right on the first try,” McCree remarked. “Easy.” Winston sat there staring at the Soul of the Wind for some time after McCree had left the room. Eventually, he placed the orb back into the cylinder and got up, shaking his head. “This is crazy,” he muttered. Louder, he asked, “Athena, what makes you think he even has a chance of succeeding?” “I do not assume success, Winston,” Athena replied. “I merely support the notion of stopping only when continuing on is truly impossible - and not a moment before.” Winston scoffed, but he made his way over to another computer terminal. “And pointing him to Oasis?” “Simply the most logical course of action,” Athena stated. “My subroutines finished a detailed analysis on Oasis and returned a list of potential locations within the city. I do not have the same information available for any of the other candidates on our list, nor do we have the time to travel to them.” “Fine, I’ll go along with this,” Winston said. “But a one-man raid is suicide - even for McCree. He’s going to need backup.” Winston brought up a map on his terminal screen and was pouring over the locations and statuses of their currently active agents. They had agents in the base, but none of them had the combat abilities necessary to help McCree. Winston’s gaze fell on a plane currently flying across the Mediterranean Sea, and his eyes widened as he saw who was on board. He opened a communications link to it. “Tracer? This is Winston.” “Heya, big guy!” Tracer’s cheerful voice replied. “Haven’t heard from you in a while! Athena told me you were busy. I left you some herbal tea to help you relax, did she tell you?” So that’s what McCree was talking about, Winston thought. Aloud he said, “No, but thank you. Listen, Tracer -” “Oi! I nearly forgot!” Tracer interrupted. “You’ll never guess who I picked up back in Germany! C’mon, guess!” As grumpy as he had just been, Tracer’s upbeat attitude still managed to put a small smile on Winston’s face. “I know who’s on board with you, Lena. Their IFF tags are still active in the system.” “Awww, but that’s cheating!” “No, that’s science,” Winston replied. He chuckled at his own counter, then caught himself and cleared his throat. “Anyway, like I was saying, I need you to do something for me…” ~~~ From her own personal room in an abandoned wing of the base, Sombra smiled and opened a communications link to her boss. “Heya, big guy,” she said in a mocking imitation of Tracer’s intonation. “Status?” came the curt reply. “Oh, you’re no fun,” Sombra said. “What if I was just calling to chat?” The line cut. Sombra rolled her eyes and called again. “Status?” the same voice asked again. “I planted the info in their AI. McCree’s heading to Oasis as we speak, and they still don’t suspect a thing,” Sombra said. “Excellent,” the voice replied. “I will inform Moira that her guest will arrive soon.” “Guests,” Sombra corrected. “As in plural. As in Winston’s sending backup.” “Noted, although it won’t make a difference.” “Not even going to ask who he’s sending?” Sombra remarked. “My, aren’t we cocky?” “We will proceed as planned,” the voice said, ignoring Sombra’s comment. “Continue to monitor the situation. Doomfist, out.” “Always so serious. He really needs something to help him relax,” Sombra muttered. She picked up the teacup on her table and took a sip of the chamomile tea she had pilfered from the pantry. “Mmm...I’ve always been more of a coffee girl myself, but Tracer’s on to something with this herbal stuff.” With nothing left to do but pass the time, Sombra brought up the clips of Reyes’ shenanigans from back in the day and hit play. “Gotta admit, even I never would’ve guessed old Reaper used to do crap like this in his spare time,” she said, smiling to herself as she watched Commander Reyes sneak a stink bomb into Strike Commander Morrison’s desk drawer. “I’ll have to ask him about it once Talon gets him back.”