//------------------------------// // Chapter V: Intermission // Story: Team Fortress 2: Macintosh's Misadventure // by McSlendy //------------------------------// Elsewhere, over the skies of the Egyptian desert... A plane flew through the clouds at a dismally slow pace, the sun's rays of light reflecting from its hull. From below it would seem that nothing was out of the ordinary with it, but then again nobody from that distance would be able to see a lone man fighting not one, but two adult grizzly bears inside in the plane's cargo hold, excitedly baring his teeth as adrenaline coursed through his body - despite knowing fully well that the bears were attempting to eat him alive. The said man was having a really good time, alternatively dodging or trying to take down one of the furry threats. Once or twice he was nearly pinned down by the coordinating beasts, but he always prevailed in escaping their grasp at the last second and always returned the favor. Now this time he was over one of the bears, an arm wrapped around it's neck trying to suffocate it into unconsciousness while his feet kept the other bear at bay. Eventually, the bear he was strangling fell on it's chest, out of air, and so he focused his attention at his remaining foe, before he abruptly ducked to dodge the clawed swipe it sent to him. Without a second thought he grabbed the bear's outstretched paw, held on to it tightly, and with all his might quickly lifted the animal over his head to slam it's back hard on it's ally's belly on the floor, resulting in a comical 'oof' from both mammals, the wind in their lungs being knocked out. The bear on top rolled over to the floor, flopping on it's belly. The bears promptly groaned in pain. Then they fainted. A satisfied smile graced the man's moustached face as he put his hands on his hips, looking down at his fallen opponents in pride. The bears he fought lasted longer than he had expected, and he felt fulfilled that he had fought at least two worthy opponents today, winning the intentionally uneven fight only by the use of his bare hands and legs and without a weapon - and not even getting a fatal scratch on him the entire time. He patted the defeated bears affectionately on their bellies and turned around to face a lonesome applause. A Caucasian man in a black suit and tie was blankly staring at him as he continued to idly clap at the man's amazingly awesome achievement and accomplishment. He was in his 30's, and had black hair that was neatly parted to the right. But aside from that, he looked indifferent to the spectacle he'd seen - as if he had seen it happen countless times. Actually he had, because it happened he was a personal aide of the manly and muscled man across him. "Most impressive, sir." He complemented his boss curtly. "And before you ask, we are already at your stop." The man gave a thumbs up to him, unaware of his aide's boredom. He was shirtless, and his glistening with sweat muscles were toned - to the point that it almost seemed impossible to wound them. His chest hair resembled Australia. He wore short beige pants with a tight black belt, a brown arm band on his left wrist, and a pair of brown shoes that reached up to only his ankles. And finally, there was his ordinary leather slouch hat to describe. It was decorated with the teeth of each of the fallen, extremely dangerous animals he personally beat up to a bloody pulp. Everyone, meet- "SAXTON HALE!" The eponymous man bellowed his name as he bravely leapt out of the plane, his destination the Egyptian complex situated far below him. The mad rush of air he felt as he descended at an alarming rate cooled him from the unforgiving heat from the sun, not that he needed it in the first place - he was too cool for the sun to burn. Or maybe the sun didn't dare to burn him. Either way, still descending but now at a much faster pace, he enjoyed the feeling of falling weightlessness, but not as much as he enjoyed fighting rare, probably endangered animals on his own. He was now already half-way to the complex, his lips forming a grin as he closed the distance. He had jumped off the plane from quite the height and now that he had thought about it, he hadn't brought a parachute with him. But he didn't care. Saxton Hale was a man, or more importantly, an Australian. An Australian of his caliber wouldn't let something like gravity stop him from doing what he wanted to do, even if it appeared suicidal to others. What would they know, anyways? Now where was he? Ah yes, he was still falling. The complex was getting closer, but that only served to make Saxton Hale eager to make his landing very dramatic. He looked around, and to his relief, saw a glass window that he just knew belonged to the BLU base that was created there, where he was supposed to be going. Preparing, he defied gravity one more time as he swam in the air towards it, making sure that his clenched, unprotected fist was the first to connect with it. He smirked, knowing that he'd be surprising someone today. One could now count the seconds it would now take him to break through the window. 1... 2... 3... PROPERTY DAMAGE!! Through the shower of glass after landing on his feet, Saxton Hale slowly stood up to face the BLU Spy and Miss Pauling. + Earlier... Miss Pauling didn't go back to the Administrator after her visit to team RED. Instead of immediately reporting back to her, she went straight to the BLUs' base as per her orders. The interiors of Builder's League United's base were cool in color, more modern in design, and reminded the Assistant of the halls of Teufort where all the mercenaries had started their first battle in, as she quietly walked through the concrete corridors, her footsteps echoing through them. It's been a long while since that time, but Pauling didn't come here to reminisce about days long gone - no, she was coming to the BLUs to inform them of recent events. Recent events which involved a civilian turned RED. Yes, sometimes being the Assistant was hard, informing both sides of the conflict about everything. Though, it was funny to see how no mercenary from both teams managed to put two and two together during the years they spent fighting for their respective companies - that nobody ever seemed to realize that their Administrator and her Assistant were also the bosses for the opposite team. Being fed half-truths and good lies as time passed while being paid a salary that reached at least seven digits must have helped, since they all never bothered to ask around, namely why were they fighting against another team and killing each other pointlessly. But lying was still something the woman didn't like. Miss Pauling remembered helping to set up Jane Doe (the BLU Soldier) and Tavish DeGroot (the RED Demoman), two men who were formerly the best of friends, to fight each other over something that either man had claimed the other had done. That was one of the worst things that she'd done during the course of her career - not counting the time she murdered the idiotic Director in cold blood after he interviewed the RED mercenaries - because, despite her neutrality which she learned to embrace in her line of work, it was still depressing to see them tearing each other apart in misguided revenge, no matter how many times they exploded into giblets of themselves. But orders were orders, and she had no choice but to follow them. And besides, she was being paid quite the fat paycheck too. Eventually, she reached the door to the BLUs' infirmary. She put her ear to the door, making sure that someone awake was at least inside. However, she could hear the gentle snoring of most of the BLU team. Peeking through the keyhole, she saw that everyone was practically asleep. She wondered if now was a good time to bother them, but upon recalling the Administrator's orders, decided that it was and that she had no choice but to carry them out. She knocked on the door, hoping that someone would be able to answer it. Within a minute or so, it was none other than the Spy who answered the door, looking as if he had been awake for hours. "Ah. Bonjour, Mademoiselle Pauling." He greeted her with a nod as he opened the door wide enough. "Hello, Spy." She greeted back, then glanced at the occupied beds behind him. "My goodness. Is everyone okay?" "They are now." The Spy glanced too. "The Medic and I worked together to bring them back to full health." "And the Medic?" "He's currently sleeping, but he'll be right as rain once he wakes up with the others." The Frenchman replied, tilting his head curiously. "By the way, I know you haven't come here to check up on our health, Mademoiselle. I believe you have new information you wish to share with us?" "Yes, I do." The Assistant nodded. This was what she liked about Spies - they were often straight to the point. "It's about the new RED member that defeated your team." "I remember that man as clear as day." The Spy said with a wince, but his expression immediately changed to a more pleasant one. "Would you like to tell me all what you know about him over a cup of hot tea?" "Yes, thank you." Pauling was grateful. "But shouldn't we wait for the others?" "Oh don't worry, Mademoiselle Pauling. I will tell them all what I'll learn from you later. I promise you." The Frenchman, leaving his teammates behind, gently closed the infirmary door behind him and led Miss Pauling to the BLU's kitchen and dining room combined. It was a big room - on one side was the kitchen where every utensil, both for cooking and for eating were being kept and stored, and on the opposite side was the dining room. In that part of the room there was a large flat-screen TV, and a round table big enough to fit nine fully grown men with nine matching chairs. There was also a nice view of the desert through a large glass window not too far away too. The Spy immediately began to rush through the cabinets, getting and preparing what he needed for two cups of hot tea - boiling the kettle for hot water, setting up the tea bags, etc. Miss Pauling in the meanwhile took a random seat at the table as she set down her documents for the Frenchman to read (she replaced the note board she used at the RED base with dossiers fresh off a printer) across the dull, spotless metal table's surface. After a while or so the Spy returned with two steaming cups of tea on a tray which he gracefully put down in front of her. Nodding her thanks, the Assistant took her cup of tea and sipped first. She breathed a sigh of relief as the Spy took his. "Now, let's get down straight to business." Miss Pauling said as the Spy sat across her. "I assume you don't know anything else about this man, other than what he looks like?" "Oui." "Well then, here's what I all know about him." She handed the Spy her dossier. The Frenchman gingerly took it, carefully opening the file. His eyes meticulously scanned through the pages one word at a time, his face unreadable even after he finished reading and closed it. Just as carefully, he handed it back to the Assistant. He then clasped his hands together and put his chin on top of them, falling into a contemplative mood. He was slowly absorbing all what he learned. Meanwhile, he stared at his tea in concentration. Suddenly a smirk formed on his lips, and he looked over at Miss Pauling. "What an interesting man." He mused to himself, before sipping his tea. "Dare I say acquiring this information was harder than it sounded?" Miss Pauling nodded, sipping of her tea as well. "Yes, it was. I can attest to that." "Hmm-hmm." The Spy hummed. "Shall I repeat to myself what information I've learned from you, so you can correct me if you find my knowledge lacking?" "Go ahead, Spy." The Assistant shrugged; it's not like she had something more important to do now until she finished doing what she came to the BLU base for. Which reminded her of something that she was sure was important, but now that she forgot about it... "Okay. Right..." The Spy muttered as he closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and then focused. "Here I go." "The newest RED member. His real name, or alias, is Macintosh Apple. His place of birth is unknown; as 'Ponyville' doesn't exist on the face of the world - therefore making his nationality a complete mystery in itself. Where is he really from, I wonder? His exact date of birth is also unknown, but however, he has claimed that he is of the age of thirty-four - therefore making his birth date at least somewhere between the years of 1933 and 1935, give or take a few months. His blood type is O, and his DNA is quite unique." "By unique, I mean that it has been discovered that there are strands of something unidentified in them that has left even Mann Co's top scientists baffled. Currently, his DNA is the only one of its kind in the world - attempts to extract it and other similar events done to it have always ended in failure. Complete, utter failure, even when the most strictest and safest protocols known to science has been put in place." "It is unknown if he has family, living or otherwise; if he does, then they are doing a good job pretending not to exist, like he had done before he joined the damned REDs. He is physically stronger than the average man, as my poor cheek and my teammates can prove - he is also taller than the average man as well, even taller than the Snipers and Heavies of both teams. His chosen class within the ranks of RED is unknown as of now. It is unknown what weapons he favors as of now. However, it seems that he is a master at fighting unarmed, being able to beat the whole of team BLU with only his bare hands and on his own even under unfair circumstances." "What I say next is not part of the dossier's provided information, so please, do not interrupt me Miss Pauling. This is from the theories of my allies. It has been speculated amongst ourselves that Macintosh Apple has been exposed to possibly a small amount of Australium before, as his strength is highly unusual in the fact that he was able to defeat my dear friend the Heavy with a single punch to the unfortunate man's face, not to mention his considerable endurance and surprisingly fast speed." "Even after he was restrained by two of our strongest men and beaten up by the others, especially our own Engineer, he was still able to fight the Scout - our fastest and most unpredictable teammate - one-on-one, and unbelievably, win. He even proceeded to defeat the rest of team BLU to rescue his comrade the RED Scout, landing us in our current predicament of having all of us BLUs reeling and resting from our unofficial defeat." The Spy took another deep breath to replace the air he lost during his non-stop talking, and opened his eyes. "In conclusion, Macintosh Apple of RED is a major threat to BLU. He must be dealt with. Immediately." The BLU Spy took his time to take a well-deserved sip of his tea as Miss Pauling sat there in silence, going over the Frenchman's recall of all the information she shared to him, and of the information that she already knew of - as well as his team's speculations about the new RED mercenary. She made a mental note to herself to update and upload the information she gave the Spy into the record concerning Macintosh Apple in their databases, once she was able to. "So, Mademoiselle Pauling..." The Spy broke through her thoughts, asking thoughtfully. "Do you find my knowledge lacking?" "No, Spy. Not at all." She shook her head slowly. "Not at all." The Spy chuckled light-heartedly, finishing his tea. "Looks like I still got it, then." Miss Pauling was about to say something when she stopped. She had remembered what she forgot about earlier. Images of a muscular man wearing nothing but short beige pants and a leather slouch hat accompanying the screaming and the howling of endangered beasts being beaten up were swimming and echoing in her mind. How in the world did she forget about it? The CEO of Mann Co. was going to pay a visit today. "Uh, Spy?" "Oui?" She glanced at the window, seeing the human-shaped speck behind it growing bigger in size. Then she looked back at the Spy. "Duck." Through the shower of glass, the BLU Spy and Miss Pauling turned to face a rising Saxton Hale. + Present time... Saxton Hale smiled at Miss Pauling as he brushed glass off himself, unaffected by the laws of physics. The Spy, after composing himself, holstered his revolver as Saxton Hale approached them, casually crushing more glass under his feet into fine dust, and then some. The bewildered Spy couldn't decide what was more surprising - that Miss Pauling didn't flinch when the Australian burst through the window overlooking the desert all of a sudden, or that Mann Co's CEO was in the same room as he was, but albeit smelling faintly of sweat, tears, blood, and animals to his extreme distaste. His face even scrunched up at the horrible smell. "Hello, Mr. Hale." The Assistant greeted him warmly. "I trust that you didn't have a hard time getting here, I hope?" "Nonsense, Miss Pauling." Replied the Australian with a friendly wave. "The animals weren't too much trouble." "I see." She replied with a knowing nod. "Has Bidwell by any chance told you why the Administrator asked for you?" "Yes, and I'm curious about it." Saxton shrugged, folding his arms. "Helen said she found an endangered animal for me to beat." "Well, not exactly..." Pauling frowned, then glanced at the Spy. "I'll explain later, Mr. Hale. Can you please follow me for now?" "Alright." Miss Pauling grabbed hold of her documents, and after thanking the BLU Spy for the tea, left with the Australian who was waiting for her by the door. Alone with his thoughts again, the Frenchman shook his head and looked back to the broken glass and its crushed pieces on the floor. He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose when he realized he'd have to clean up the mess his company's CEO made. "Putain. I do not get paid enough for this."