Origins (Overwatch Ashe x Male Reader)

027

The rendezvous spot was about an hour outside of Bellerae, at an outcropping of rock locally known as "The Hopper" since it resembled a crouching rabbit with its ears pressed back. The sun was getting low and the shadows stretched out, drawing dark lines across the landscape.

We were here early and this time, with B.O.B..

It hadn't been easy, figuring out a way to bring the omnic without the help of a truck, but finally, Frankie and Ashe had modified a pair of hover-transport platforms that could be hitched to the back of their bikes.

One for cargo, one for B.O.B.

Problem solved.

"Frankie, that your guy?" Ashe hands the hacker her field glasses, but Frankie waved them away.

The tint on her holo-glasses shifted slightly. "Yup, I'd know that truck anywhere. Right on time."

Like Metal Mary, the buyer was someone Frankie had worked with before; he'd offered a fair price on the whole lot with the plan of selling them (at a respectable profit, of course) through his East and West Coast city contacts. A nice, clean transaction to complete their latest heist.

The truck rolled to a stop about ten meters away, the setting sun behind it. A tall, skinny man wearing a spotless white jacket and leather pants exited. Despite the fading light, he had on a pair of dark sunglasses and flashed them a toothy grin as he approached.

"Frankie, baby." He pulled off the shades and held his arms out in a wide, welcoming gesture. "Great to see you again."

"Hey, Liu," said Frankie. "Thanks for meeting us out here."

"Not a problem," Liu said. "What's a little drive when there's good business to be had?" He turns to Ashe.

She had her Calamity persona on— red wig, with a bandanna pulled up over her face—same as all the others, save Frankie. He lingered on her for a moment before moving on to Cole and Julian, then back to Frankie.

"I see you've made some new friends. I'd ask your names, but are those really important?" He snickered at his own joke. "Those the goods there? May I inspect them?"

"Of course." Ashe went over and opened one of the crates.

Inside were rows of field glasses, nestled neatly in a bed of protective foam.

"Oh yes," said Liu, drawing out the s sound. "That's the kind of quality I like to see. Now, how about getting a hand loading these crates?"

Ashe snapped her fingers at B.O.B., who lumbered over and picked up a crate. "Not a problem. We're happy to provide a full-service experience for our customers."

"Fine goods and prompt service." Liu sounded pleased. "This is a very different operation from your last one, Frankie."

"Day and night," said the hacker as B.O.B. continued to load the crates into the truck.

When that was done, Liu raised the wrist device he wore. "Complete transfer," he spoke the command into it, "Authorization code: purple polka-dotted glitter toads."

Frankie's holo-glasses flickered briefly. She nodded the confirmation at Ashe. "It's all there."

"Nice doing business with you, Mr. Liu. Maybe we can work together again sometime."

But instead of looking pleased, Liu's confident demeanour suddenly shifted. He looked around furtively, fussing with the sunglasses in his hands.

"If only that was possible." He turned back to Frankie. "Sorry, Frankie, baby. Look, the money is good, but, I— well, they gave me no choice."

"Frankie, what is he talking about?" Ashe locks her gaze onto him.

I lift myself to my feet and ready myself for whatever may come next.

"Who gave you no choice?" Frankie demanded, shocked. "Liu, what did you—"

It was then that they heard the engines—lots of them. The sound came from all around, echoing off the stone formations surrounding them. Cole's face turned serious, more so than the times we could have died.

"We need to go."

"We need to go now," Julian punctuated, starting his hoverbike.

Too late.

A dozen riders on bikes appear and surround us like a pack of metal wolves, blocking every avenue for escape. Despite the dusk, enough light shined from their headlights to illuminate their insignia as clear as day: Diamondbacks.

Frankie swore. "Fuck. Ashe, we have a problem."

"No kidding," Ashe says through her teeth.

So what was this?

There was one bike that was more decorated than all the others, with the gang logo emblazoned on the front, along with what looked like a splash of red paint.

The rider of that bike dismounted, swaggering over to where Ashe and the others were corralled in the centre of the Diamondbacks' circle. As he walked, he removed his helmet, revealing a youngish man, maybe six or seven years older than myself. He had dark brown hair trimmed in a severe, almost military style and sharp features. Another Diamondback followed him, keeping a few deferential paces behind: Bez.

"Frankie!" the young man said, sounding faintly amused. "Long time no see."

"Marco. What are you doing here?"

Marco looked playfully pained. "What kind of greeting is that? Especially after we came all this way. I see that you've found some new friends, but have you forgotten your old ones so quickly? Speaking of which," he turned to Liu, "take off. You're done here."

The dealer wasted no time. He fled from the gathering, climbed into his truck, and sped off, disappearing into the falling night.

No one else knew they were meeting with Liu; he'd betrayed us. A part of me wants to shoot him as he drives away but that wouldn't solve the current situation... only escalate it further.

"Can we help you ... " Ashe crossed her arms, glaring. "What was it? Marco? As I'm sure you can see, we're trying to conduct business here."

"Don't," hissed Frankie.

On the other side of her, Cole gave her a nudge and a none-too-subtle shake of his head. Ashe ignored both of them as Marco took a step forward, looking her over. He got uncomfortably close, so near that she could have reached out and touched him.

I instinctively step closer, making sure to stand between him and her.

"I see that." The Diamondback's leader sounded less than thrilled. "Which would be why I'm here. You're the one called Calamity, right?"

Ashe nods.

Marco sniffed derisively, seemingly unimpressed. "My buddy Bez here says you raced down at Cutthroat Trout's, and that Frankie is helping you build a bike. Isn't that right, Bez?"

"Yeah, that's what she said." There was a hit of bitterness in Bez's voice.

"Which," Marco continued, "sounded a bit suspect, given what Frankie is usually involved with. So I asked around a little and—lo and behold—here we are. Conducting business that is most definitely not of the bike-building sort."

He locks eyes with me. Narrowing his eyes at me I keep my posture, returning my calm expression. He only smirks at me before shaking his head.

"So," Marco holds his stare, "the five of you are the mysterious gang who has been working so hard around Bellerae lately. And from the way you talk, it sounds to me like you're the one in charge, Calamity."