"Who's first?" I slam my binder down on the table, causing everything on top to shake. Everyone turns around to look at me from where they are in the common area.
Scout, who's sitting in front of me, points his spoon at me and swallows his food. "Mmm, for what?"
"Wait, we have cereal?" I mutter, Scout nodding but then shrugging to gesture for me to answer his question. "Oh right. Uh, for file update interviews."
"Mind explaining what you're on about, Luv?" Sniper speaks out from the couch, sharpening a moderately-sized sword that I just so happen to be vastly threatened by.
"Since you guys never turn them in- or even do them for that matter-" I snark under my breath, "one of the first things I have to do is update your personnel files for The Administrator. Once again, I'm here to organize you guys."
They all look at one other for any contenders. Sniper scoffs and picks up his blade to look at his reflection. "Is this like what that stupid bloke was doing with Miss Pauling?"
"Who did what now with Miss Pauling?"
"Bloody director," Sniper snarls.
"Baby man was very annoying. Did not want me to talk about Sasha," Heavy says unprompted, clearly irritated by the mention of this director character. The tone shifts to annoyance. No one looks very willing to volunteer after that, so I make an alternate proposal.
"How about we take on the personal stuff slowly, y'know?" Confusion creeps into the room again. "We'll get to it when you guys are ready to share that kind of stuff."
"Kinda prefferin' we just don't do it at all," Scouts adds, staring into his bowl of milk as he stirs with his spoon. "We've been doing just fine without 'em."
I nod. Of course you've been doing fine without them if you never took upon that responsibility. None of them seem pleased with me even mentioning the paperwork in the first place. Are they ever going to warm up to me? Medic and Engineer have been quite accepting of this change, but Scout, Spy, and Heavy have lost the excitement of possibly getting a new teammate because they more than likely sorted out that I'm not a mercenary like them. Sniper is the one I'm the most unsure about; he's a mixed bag of behaviors, attitudes, and temperament. Our eyes catch up with each other, and he sheathes his blade rather aggressively, picking up his gear and heading for the plaza.
"I'm going for a smoke before heading up," he informs bluntly. Spy follows him out, flicking his lighter in his hand.
It's time for me to go before I unintentionally start something. "Physical evaluations are unavoidable, but we shall plan that for a later date when I consult Medic. I'll be around... Call if you need anything," I quietly but sternly say, shaking my PDA in my hand before clipping it to my belt on the opposite side of my gun.
I turn away, but I can feel their looks piercing into my back like needles. They all observe me from behind as to not alert me of their visual judgment. My composure quickly dissipates as I feel I've gotten far enough away to take a breather. Air rushes in and out of my mouth to slow my heart down, a hand over my chest as if I'm trying to reach in and hold it still. Sinking to my knees, I set my binder down to alleviate my arms. Should I call Miss Pauling? She'd know what to do with them, right? Was this how it was for her when she first started coming into contact with them? I'm so under-prepared for this. Working with mercenaries? What was I thinking; going from a stupid, monotonous office job to fieldwork with a bunch of guys who kill people for a living? I think I'm legitimately brainless for believing this would all go as smoothly as filing paperwork does.
The phone I'm supposed to use to call long distance hasn't arrived in Resupply yet, and I think I'm going to go crazy if it doesn't come in soon. I haven't been able to contact anyone for the past 2 days; I was literally only given a PDA yesterday during the clean up by Engineer for the sole purpose of calling one of them over to deal with bread monsters since I'm seen as useless. My mouth is dry. I swallow hard. I did catch wind of there being a payphone around here, so the only thing left to do is find it. This could prove useful in the long run as I can also map out this entire fort's directory while I'm on the hunt. Obviously, I could just ask them, but it'd be awkward to make a reentrance and ask for something after making an equally odd exit. It'd be best not to bother them anyway, not without consulting Miss Pauling about how to ease my way into having working relationships with them.
Footsteps stop short behind me.
Shit. Okay, okay, play it cool.
Turning my head, I see Demoman, scrumpy bottle in hand. "Hey, Demoman," I sheepishly laugh.
"What're you doing sprawled on the ground, lassie?" He rings in his heavy accent, taking me some time to decipher what he asked.
"I-- I fell," I say, rapidly picking up my things to stand upright again. "It was just taking me a moment to get back up."
He peers at my bandaged ankle. "Medic take a look at ya today?"
I shake my head, and my ankle magically starts to bother me since it has been acknowledged. "I should get going."
"Where?" He begins to interrogate.
I shrug my shoulders. "I don't know. To explore? I have to find out where everything is eventually." He doesn't look satisfied with my answer. "But I'm going to my room right now to... do... some more unpacking?" I ask myself more than him. It's enough to cause him to take a swig of his bottle and walk past me.
I can't let my nerves get the best of me just yet and allow me to chicken out on this opportunity. I worked for this position and had Miss Pauling do a lot to convince the Administrator to let me do this, so I can't just waste all of her efforts just because the team and I haven't clicked yet. Have to have a little hope, right? Pathfinding to my room gets easier and easier with each time I do it, which is sort of depressing to admit since I have gone to my room an unhealthy amount of times for two days worth of me being here. Following through on what I said earlier to Demoman is the smart choice, as dumb as it may have been of me to take that one laying down. Assertion apparently no longer exists in my function catalog. I'll look for the phones later, I just need some time to recuperate and collect my thoughts.
A gunshot rings out through the whole building, shaking me to my core. The echoes bring waves of worry over my body. Are we being attacked? Is there a BLU Spy within our ranks? I don't even think twice before dashing off. Where? I don't care. The common room? I turn the corner and see everyone gathered around something in the plaza outside.
"Guys! Guys, what happened?" I pant as I approach the circle. Heavy and Engineer make a hole to have me take a look at what they're surrounding.
A drone.
"Did Sniper shoot it down?" I ask.
Engineer taps the drone with his toe. "I'd like to think so, hasn't come down from his tower to tell us anyth--"
More shots ring out, presumably from Sniper's tower. I cover my ears from the blasts, dropping my binder once again and having papers slide out. Tires squeal from outside the fort's wall, and then a crash ensues. It's quiet for a moment. I remove my hands when I see Sniper step out onto the balcony and lean over the railing. "Oi! We've got a bogey!"
"Bogey. A bogey, what does bogey mean?" I question as scramble I pick up my things.
"Typically means trouble. Scout, come with me," Spy insists. He looks at me as he passes by. "You, too. Bring the drone. Perhaps there's intelligence inside." I stutter minimal protests, looking around at the rest of the group. I end up shoving my papers into Heavy's hands and lug along the contraption. "I hope you know how to use your gun properly."
"Why wouldn't I?" I scoff, trying to keep up with the two. They're both taller than me by a bit. I'm closer to Engineer's height but still shorter by an inch or two with hells on.
Spy views my holster and lights a cigarette for himself. "Your gun seems too big for you."
"C'mon Spy, it's just a tiny little handgun," Scout interrupts. "You didn't say anything special about me holdin' a scattergun."
"I mean that as in you look rather inexperienced with a firearm."
I huff and toss the drone up a bit to readjust my grip. "I've only ever shot it two times. Three if we count yesterday. I'm better with melee weapons and short-ranged combat."
"Yeah, we're gonna hafta change that," Scout says. "We pretty much use nothing but guns around here."
"Good to know." We arrive at the entrance, the sentries beeping and turning to us. I flinch, Scout snickering.
"It does that to everyone, checks for enemy spies," he tells. "Don't sweat it. Unless you're a spy."
I deny being a spy, the sentries confirming as we make it past the curtain. A van with BLU's logo is turned over on the side of the road. Approaching the wreckage, we come across two mercs in the front with bullet flares on their temples. At least we know Sniper is accurate when it comes to moving vehicles. Spy brandishes his revolver, and Scout his scattergun as they go to inspect the back of the van. I stay near the front end and go around to the broken windshield, peering inside at the soldier and medic within. I look down at the drone and realize it's like a robotic head of Spy. Amazing how the entry of the bullet is its eye. Sniper is a force to be reckoned with, that's for sure.
Shaking it a few times, some wires and debris either rattling inside or falling out onto the sand. A vial comes out, and it has a piece of paper inside. I pick it up and store it in my shirt pocket, for the time being, salvaging a few scraps to take to Engineer. The van rustles as Scout starts swearing, punches landing as the victim grunts.
As I circle around the crash, I happen upon a BLU scout tussling with ours. He's even scrawnier; he's very lanky and totally like a kid even I would have bullied in school... And I was a usual candidate for getting picked on. That's apparently not the case, though since he turns the fight around and starts to whale on Scout, throwing one punch after another. Spy stands by, lighting another cigarette.
"Are we not going to help him?"
"I'd like to interrogate him." Spy says, taking a drag.
I shrug. "Then why not stop him?"
"I'd kill the poor fellow if I did. Also, the drone is useless to us here, there's nothing in there. It would be best to surrender it to the laborer."
Spy chuckles. The BLU scout pushes him down and gets on top of him, both of them yelling at each other as it turns into a petty schoolyard fight that's not worth idling by and watching anymore. I sigh and walk up behind the BLU scout. If all scouts act the same, I shouldn't have too much problem with deescalating the situation enough for Spy to interrogate him. I set the robot head down and take my time straightening out my shirt while Scout gets his ass handed to him.
"Excuse me?" I sweetly hum, the opposing mercenary turning to look at me with his hands tightly wrapped around Scout's neck. He wheezes for help, I ignore him. "Could you get off of my friend?"
"Now tell me why I'd do that." I can tell he hails from New York. A Yorker beating a Bostoner senseless. Great.
"It's just sad seeing him like this," I forcefully mope, Scout coughing and writhing now. "I mean, you've already proved your point."
The BLU scout looks confused. "Point? Was I making a point?"
"I mean, you were trying to prove you're the better scout, right?"
Scout claws at his assailant's arms and his eyes look as though they might-- Nope, they're definitely rolling into the back of his head. BLU scout lets go at the last second, standing up and immediately getting fresh with me. "Why, of course I am! Glad someone finally s--"
I sock him in the jaw and grab his shirt collar, slamming him down on the asphalt next to Scout. He tries to get up, but I stomp on his crotch, making him cry out and shrink into a ball of pity. Scout gasps for air and stands up next to me, beginning to trash talk the other guy and falling from the lack of oxygen to his brain. He eventually has to lean on me for support.
"Why the hell didn't you just do that in the first place?" He slurs his words slightly as I hold him up with his arm around me. "I could've died."
"I'm trying out new avenues. I'm not the best at negotiating and even worse at acting," I sigh.
"Then why didn't you beat his ass from the start?" Scout reiterates. I roll my eyes.
"To be honest, I would've killed him if I fought him outright, too. I can snap him like a twig."
Spy puts his hand on my shoulder and picks up the other merc by his ankle, the kid still whining. "Scout, stop complaining. It was an interesting approach, to say the least."
He passes out from asphyxiation and becomes a dead weight. I let him fall to the floor as to not be inconvenienced by putting on a few pounds. I sigh and look over to Spy, the Frenchman throwing our new hostage over his shoulders to carry him in. Looking at the drone, and then over to Scout, I'm presented with a predicament. I ask Spy to carry the drone for me and am pleasantly surprised with polite compliance, leaving me to lift Scout from behind and drag him back in with my arms around his chest. He's much lighter than I anticipated for someone of his height to be. I think I might actually weigh more than him.
The skinny bastard.
The back of his shoes skid across the asphalt road and make ruts in the sand. I can't maneuver him around the bush cut out, Engineer needing to lower it and move the curtains for me and my unconscious pal. The sentries have to be deactivated for a short time as we bring the BLU scout in to prevent becoming swiss cheese. Engineer comes out and accepts the drone from Spy, and I hand over the items I collected. Gently laying down Scout on the dirt, I dig through my shirt pocket. My finger grazes the vial but I don't pull it out. Depositing the extra chips and wires with him, I continue dragging Scout back to his room.
This tiny bottle I have feels important, but I don't want to share it with the rest of them just yet. If it's useless information, I'll be brushed off from the action again. If I'm the one managing them, should I not be in the know of current campaigns? However selfish my reasons may come across as, I'll have to work with whatever I can to get to smooth sailing. The journey to the barracks is taxing, eventually resorting to giving Scout's limp body a piggyback ride the rest of the way there. I open his door and groan as I turn my back to the wall, dropping him onto his bed. While moving his limbs around, I realize that he looks a little too dead with his hands over his chest. After readjusting his position, he almost looks like a peaceful baby while he sleeps. Compulsion washes over me, and I find myself removing his shoes, hat, and headset before leaving him. Medic stands in the doorframe without his lab coat and gloves, possibly here to check on Scout.
"Is he dead?" He asks.
Did I even check his pulse? "No?"
Medic does just that and sighs dejectedly. "Could've used der Dummkopf for some truly revolutionary things."
I'm taken aback by his comment. "What do you mean by that?" I cautiously venture.
"Organs aren't cheap you know. I also could've revived him from complete brain death, I haven't done that one before."
Okay so, Medic isn't as normal as I originally thought he was. Suddenly, my brain switches to having him as a mad scientist type as opposed to your typical doctor. He stands and ponders something as he watches Scout slumber. I shake him out of it before he gets any ideas. "Actually, there are two dead BLU mercenaries outside that I'll have to get rid of in a few hours... would that suffice?"
"Oh, let me take a look!" He grows giddy and grabs my wrist to pull me down to his lab. I didn't expect for him to take up my offer so nimbly, giving me a tinge of fear for if he just so happens to find me unconscious and unresponsive. He suits up, bringing along his bone saw, and has me push along an iron cart full of tools and coolers while he takes a gurney with him.
Miss Pauling would be looking at me like I'm insane for playing around with dead bodies instead of disposing of them. Granted, I could argue that this is a forensic countermeasure so that clean up and burying is a lot easier. Before we can even leave his lab, though, the intercom comes on and some feedback squeaks out.
"If, uh, the assistant could mosey on over to my garage," Engineer starts out in a worried tone, arguing going on in the background, "that'd be much appreciated. Just put the tape over his mouth!" His voice sounds farther away from the microphone before the feed cuts.
Medic motions for me to go with that same smile from before, still going to go out and get those bodies regardless of my help. I warn him on only taking what he needs so I can get rid of the rest, unsure that he heard anything else other than "body parts." I sigh and make a light jog down to Engineer's workshop, walking in and seeing that the area has been rearranged. Soldier, Spy, and Pyro all stand around the BLU scout who's tied to a chair with duct tape over his mouth. He protests and screams out through his nose.
"I see we've tapped into our inner interior designer. Love the accent piece," I joke in a low whisper to Engineer, motioning to the captive.
"He said he'd only talk to you, referred to you as 'the pretty one.'" He whispers back, glossing over my quip. I glance back at the scout before turning around again. "We had to shut him up since he howls like a wolf on a full moon."
"Hey, Engineer--"
"Please, call me Engie," he chuckles as if we're making casual talk. I blink a few times.
"Engie, am I allowed to hit him?"
"I don't see why not." He shrugs.
I take the wrench from his right pocket on his overalls and tap the head of it a few times to gauge its weight. Standing in front of the scout, I tap the wrench a few more times and stare him down. "Could you bring me that chair over there, Pyro?" He drags it over, and I thank him as I sit down. Folding my legs, I carefully remove the tape from his mouth. I put my finger over my lips just as he's about to talk and lean back in my seat. Tapping into my inner Miss Pauling is going to be hard, I'm not as much of a badass as she is. "Now, I'm much better at dealing with dead bodies, so let's hope that I don't make you into one."
"Watcha gonna do with that wrench, hardly think you know how to use one," he snarks.
I sigh and chuckle. "What I'm going to do with this wrench, pal o' mine, is make you talk. You're used to seeing men like the ones in this room, so they wouldn't be able to get a single word out of you. I'm on a tight schedule, so we're going to do a lightning round for intel."
"Is that so?"
"What was the drone for?" I start abruptly. He smiles and I don't even give him 5 seconds before I slug his knee in with the wrench. A shrill shriek erupts out of him. "I remember mentioning that I'm not very patient."
"Whoa, slow your roll there, sister!" Soldier interjects. "You're supposed to interrogate the maggot before you start torturing him."
"Then I'd suggest you leave if you're going to interrupt me. I still have to bury his buddies by the day is out and get rid of the van so you guys don't get arrested," I huff.
"Wait they're dead?" The scout cries out in between groans of misery. "You killed them?"
"I'll kill you, too if you don't talk."
He yells out and struggles against his restraints. "You ain't gettin' nothin' outta me! Ya hear? I ain't talking."
"I don't know why I thought I could get information out of merc," I scoff and blow out his other knee. He screams out again and sobs after the initial hit. "Spy, Solder-- I don't care who, but one of you take him out and then hand him over to Medic. We need this done before nightfall."
"Don't ask him any other questions, I presume?" Spy takes a drag of his cigarette.
"If he has dying words, let me know." I hand Engineer his tool back and leave the garage. Running through my list of tasks; I need to:
-Retrieve the remains from Medic
-Dismember what is left
-Take out their teeth
-Burn off their fingerprints
-Secure a ride out into the desert
-Dig shallow graves
-Dump the scraps
-Bury them
-And make it back to clean off my tools and burn the clothes I'm wearing right now.
I'm sure Engineer will take their van in for scrap, and we could change the plates and repaint the side. "Wait!"
The scout calls out, and I turn around. He looks at me and keeps moving around as they try to load him onto a hand truck to keep him in restraints. I place my hands on my hips. "Make it quick, my guy still has to take your organs before I can even begin with you."
"These mercs have no problem throwing ya to the dogs," he snickers, sounding delusional. "Watch your back, they soon won't know who's doin' the stabbing to who. It'll almost be like a spell was cast on them."
"Weirdo," I express. He starts giggling, keeping it low and sinister until Soldier snaps his neck to make him shut up. "Make this quick, men. I don't have all day."