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The visor whirred into place. A grim smile split across Amélie’s lips. The world around her slowed. The traffic, clanging and smoggy, went silent. The protester’s roar faded to a dull hum, a last rebellion against any form of silence, before evaporating into sweet nothing as she focused in on her target. She had forgotten his name. The old man was of importance to someone, important enough to make it on to her list. Through the scope she could see the panic in his demeanor. His shirt had a brown stain on the left breast, his hair was oily and unkempt unusual, his clothes, though of the highest quality, had wrinkled from days of wear, the lines around his eyes had deepened from lack of sleep, and his left hand kept a nervous tick that had resurfaced after many years. He’d been on the run for days. TALON let him catch wind of their plot while he was still lounging by a crystal clear pool two hundred yards from the stink of an oceanic bay. Since then, he’d hopped four cities, each time, breathing a sigh of relief before the hair on the back of his neck bristled once again. They’d driven him here like a wild beast rushing to the edge of a cliff.
Amélie took aim. took aim, relishing the quickening of her blood, an old feeling that shouldn’t go noticed at all. She targeted the stain on his shirt. How fitting to deliver his end through that well placed symbol of mediocrity and panic. Her finger moved to the trigger with an ingrained discipline. She was taking her time. She wanted to relish the moment. He was a minor kill, but she would enjoy it all the same. The man was laughing nervously while talking to a street vendor. Her finger started to squeeze.
> Widowmaker, your position is compromised.
She heard the grit move under his boot. With a wistful sigh, she relaxed her finger and raised her eye from the scope. Deftly, she flicked the switch on her rifle and took a slow, calm breath. The red visor flared to life in the shadow of the tower. The sizzling scent of ozone filled the air. Amélie rolled to the side, a burst of fire scattering across the wall as the man waded through the hail of bullets as though they were gnats. He closed on her quickly. She jammed the rifle forward, the barrel wedging between the man’s shoulder and socket. He grunted, not in pain, but exasperation. She took the moment to side step his grasp. Ducking low, she landed a hard kick to his knee. As he buckled, she rolled to the side, the grim smile returning. With expert agility she crossed to the tower door and pressed the mine’s activator. Toxic gas billowed into the room as she clicked down the hallway. He won’t die , she thought ruefully. Reyes gets to keep his pet a while longer, even if he’s a little worse for the wear.
Three flashes of light nearly blinded her. She fell backwards hard as the wave of heat struck her. Smoke rushed past and she knew the stairwell had collapsed. Regaining her senses, she turned, intending to get by the solider before he could recover. As she rose from the ground, her rifle was snatched from her grip and thrown into the smog beyond. The red visor gleamed brightly, cutting through the haze. “Some people never learn.”
“Try not to leave a mark,” she chirped. His plasma rifle raised and came crashing into her face. Amélie crumpled.
He slung his rifle over his shoulder. Bending down he rolled Amélie over and noticed a slight cut on her cheek. “To be fair, I tried,” he growled. She groaned quietly. Slipping a dart from his belt, he gave her the sedative. He pulled her up over his shoulder where she hung like a rag doll. Others would arrive soon. He shifted her weight on his shoulder, “Time to go.”
Amélie roused slowly. The worst part of her conditioning was how long it took for things to leave her system. As the clouds lifted from her mind, she assessed her situation. Her hands were restrained. A cuff around each wrist bound to a cable which ended at a bolt in the wall. The cable was long enough for her to move freely, but she saw no water or food. They don’t plan to keep me here long. The walls were made of sandstone. From the muffled sound, she was underground somewhere, but it was clean and well lit. A safe house of some kind. Maybe left over from the war. No gate barred her way. This isn’t a cell. A store room they’ve repurposed. Maybe the bolt isn’t fastened well enough. She tried to move and the numbness in her limbs rang through her body like a shock. Or at least what she could remember of how a shock felt. She’d been stripped of her gear and boots, but allowed to keep her tac-suit.
The door opened. Amélie hopped to her feet and put her back to the wall. Draw him in. He’ll underestimate the length of the tether. The broad chested man with white hair strode in and the door slammed behind him. The scar rising up from his visor looked brutal in the dim light. He threw a water bottle to her. Amélie let it clattered to the ground. Let him think you’re weak. After retrieving the bottle, she looked at it skeptically. “You think I brought you here to trick you into drinking poison?” he rasped. His voice was haggard and weary, but she could hear the strong tone underneath. How much of this is an act?
“I hear you do not play by ze rules any more, Jacques.” She uncapped the bottle and drank down the cool liquid. Giving me this was a mistake. Mercy — her nose wrinkled at the word — is a mistake. I would have expected an old soldier to know better. “If I am not ‘ere to be killed. ‘Zen why am I here?”
“Information,” he stepped forward leisurely until he stopped at an invisible line. She couldn’t see his eyes, but she sense him marking his location, like she would mark the angle for a shot. “Why would TALON go to the trouble of making Xavier Meads run around like a damn fool, just so you could pop him in a slum town.”
“I haven’t the slightest idea. I go where zey tell me and take the name off of my list.” She took another sip of water, letting it cool her parched lips. The toxic gas had caught her on the way out. Glad he didn’t drag me through it any slower. “If you want to know the ‘why’ then you should visit votre vieil ami.”
“Or maybe I could take it out of your hide,” he answered quickly.
“Oh, Jacques, I can’t say I never thought about giving you ze chance. But you were too like Gerard, giving all that time to Overwatch. A girl gets lonely after all.” She saw him shift uncomfortably. “Would you have done that Jacques? Left a young wife to her own devices to go save ze world?”
“That’s not my job any more,” he growled.
“Careful, Jacques, if you’re not a hero any more, you must be a villain.” She moved back closer to the wall and bent over to put down the water bottle, making sure he got a full view of her. The tac-suit held few secrets. “And I know what a villain would do with a girl like me all tied up in his dungeon. If you want me to talk, then zere is only one way to make me.”
He laughed. “I’ve got a bet running with an Omnic in London. He thinks your skin is a gimmick. I think you’re that color all over.”
She pursed her lips, “Why not find out for yourself. You’ll have to help me. I’m a little tied up.”
Jack didn’t move. Instead he stuck his hand out and pointed at the ground in front of him. “Get over here.”
Shit. She swayed her hips as she approached, the tether trailing behind her. It pulled taught as she reached him. He’s smiling under that damned mask. Mocking me. She hadn’t been this close to him in years though. Part of his chest was visible through his jacket. It was scarred, but otherwise looked young. His body held no sign of age other than his shock of white hair. “Commander Morrison, you seem to have aged quite well.”
“All that stuff they pumped into me had to be good for something,” he chirped back. “Now, we were discussing pumping something into you, I think.” With strong hands he spun her around. The tac-suit was in two parts, her vest and her tights which ended around her mid calve. Without hesitating, the old soldier hooked his thumbs in the waist of her pants and pulled them down. Amélie felt the warm night air rush over her skin. “I’ll be damned. That bolt head owes me some credits.” He slipped off his gloves and threw them aside. His bare palms pressed greedily into her ass. “Now, about getting you to talk.”
Get him closer. Amélie tried to focus on her escape, but the true nagged at her. The feeling of a man’s hands on her woke up something. Not just any man. This man. She pushed back into his touch, urging him to keep exploring. His hands cupped under her ass and squeezed again before delving between her legs. A small gasp escaped her lips and his finger slid against her pussy. Her ass pressed back against him harder, desperate to feel him slide a finger inside of her, but suddenly pleased to feel the bulge in his pants. Seems I might be in the presence of a villain after all.
“Guess you’re not cold all over after all. I think it’s time to start asking some questions.”
She heard the flap of straps as his pants were undone. Amélie looked over her shoulder to see his cock being withdrawn. “My goodness, Jacques, they really did give you something with all those supplements.” His cock throbbed in his grip. He slapped it against her ass and both of them marveled at the sight of his flesh pressing against hers. The contrast of color or the thrill of being about to fuck his old friend’s wife excited him further. She felt his cock throb as he rubbed it between her ass cheeks. He angled it further down and she felt it pressing against her folds. How long has it been? He nudged forward, the head of his cock pressing insistently at her pussy lips, and his feet inching closer to the invisible line.
Morrison didn’t know what to expect as he pushed his cock into her. Pure warmth surrounded his cock and drank him in. Specialists said that the assassin Widowmaker had no heartbeat and felt nothing but the joy of the kill. What do the French call it? La petite mort. The Little Death. He started to put caution aside. He stepped forward to grab her hips better. The feeling of his hands pressing into her flesh delighted him and elicited a slight response from her. The long strands of her hair swayed from one side to the other as she started to meet each of his strokes with her own. He hunched over her, his cock sliding deeper with each stroke. His hands slid forward, following the curve of her hips and up her sides until he tentatively pushed against the suit’s fabric to feel the soft, apple sized breasts.
Her walls stretched. My god, I should have fucked him years ago. Gerard was never this big. She knew she should feel nothing. Amélie was dead and with her died any real emotion. Then what is this? Why am I hungry for his touch? Why do these moans escape my lips. Why can he push me so close to the edge? She kept the chain pulled taught, quickly wrapping any slack in the tether around her wrists. Not that he would notice. Even hidden behind that mask, she knew his focus was entirely on the perfect curve of her ass. He started to pick up speed. She grunted in time with him as his hard body started to slam into her supple ass. The old soldier smiled at the sight of her cheeks rippling from the force of his strokes. The pleasure started to spread suddenly. Goddam it. Her skin flushed from head to toe, darkening slightly as her heart sped up. Her eyes fluttered shut. Oh god, he’s so big. He’s fucking me while I’m tied up like some common slut. It began in ripples which grew faster and stronger with each of his strokes. Her body started to tense and he kept thrusting. He knows. He knows I’m quivering around his cock. It broke over her in an instant. Waves of pleasure cascading as her heart thumped in her chest. She moaned loudly and her pussy clamped down on the invading cock. Jack Morrison just made me cum. Fuck.
Jack wasn’t done. Watching the notorious sniper cream around his cock gave him a bitter pleasure, but the primal feeling of his own orgasm was at hand. He pulled out of her warm pussy and aimed his cock at the beautiful dark blue orbs of her ass. Instantly, his cum rocketed out and splattered on her ass. She shuddered as each rope coated her rump, forcing it to jiggle slightly and coax out a little more cum from the spurting cock. As his orgasm subsided. He gave her ass a hard slap. “Now then, about those questions.”
Her mind snapped back to action immediately. The tether was slack. In a flash, she whirled around and looped the tether around him. For half a second she was once again distracted by the feeling of his cock pressing against her naked body. He was surprised, but quickly regaining his composure. Widowmaker leaned in and kissed the visor. She pushed forward with all her strength. Her weight was nothing to the tether, but their momentum and weight combined was too much. The bolt in the wall gave way as Jack slammed onto the ground with a grunt. Widowmaker rolled off of him and jerked the tether free. As he started to get to his feet, she whipped it back at him, the bolt cracking against his head with a precision that would have killed a lesser man. Morrison only winced, but it gave her the time she needed.
She searched him quickly and found the keys in one of the pouches on his belt. The manacles fell away as Jack’s hand shot out for her ankle. She nimbly leapt aside. She posed for him as she pulled her tack suit back up over her cum covered ass. “It’s been charming mon ami, but I must be going.” She lassoed the tether around his arms and legs. It wouldn’t hold him long. She raced to the door as he started to growl angrily. With one last blown kiss, she flung the door open and disappeared down the hall.
Within minutes she had retrieved her gear and made it to the streets. As she disappeared into the shadows she had one final thought. That was fun Jacques. Next time, I’ll be the one to catch you.
The lab hummed with the sound of fluorescent lights. Angela craned her neck to the side, stretching out the same knot that had irritated her from the first time she looked into a microscope. Her eyes ached and her lower back was stiff from too many hours of work. She had barely seen daylight for the past few weeks, but she had made progress. She moved over to the lab’s main terminal. The shift clung to her and she pulled at it while eying the Valkyrie suit docked at the far end of the room. Her fingers clicked quickly over the terminal keyboard.
“Dr. Ziegler, you have instructed me to activate Freyja. Spinning up the centrifuge and auxiliary systems will require more power than what is currently available. If we disable perimeter security, this will free enough power to begin the process. At 40%, the power requirement will be lowered and security can be restored.”
She frowned. “Can the security systems be powered down without anyone else noticing?”
Athena’s soothing voice answered, “Personnel in the barracks will likely not notice. Dr. Zhou, on the other hand, is currently working in Lab-32. As she has been granted facility access level clearance, she will receive notification of any system wide events.”
Angela had discussed her work with Mei in the abstract since the other researcher had arrived. Angela had even hoped to take a few samples from the only available survivor of long term cryostasis, but Mei had been cool to the idea. The climatologist’s focus remained on solving her own crisis and didn’t concern herself much with Angela’s research. She understood. All scientists covet their own niches in a world of expanding knowledge. Angela would have likely felt insulted as well if Mei asked her to abandon her work in order to focus on solving the growing climate problems. And that’s without the confusion of waking up in a world that moved on ten years without you. Still, she had tried. With Overwatch in exile and its resources being heavily monitored, Angela needed any allies she could find. Things were starting to happen. Mei couldn’t deny that, especially when Angela told her about Gibraltar. Yet still, her fellow scientist insisted on focusing on the climate problem.
More immediate threats should take precedent, Angela reminded herself. Reyes survived, somehow. Not as a man, but as a wraith. After Gibraltar, she had tracked the shade by finding other TALON sites. The sight of his victims haunted her and drove her through sleepless nights of work. Through it all she had come to believe one thing: the creature known as Reaper could not be stopped by anything other than its creator. “Athena, proceed with Freyja.”
Mei looked up from her tablet as the terminal in her office flashed. Finally, a distraction. Catching up on ten years of history seemed like a small task at first, but she’d misjudged how quickly things had progressed. The chance to get away from it all at a new Eco-point base had been a golden opportunity. Angela had been kind enough to set her up and was always available to discuss anything Mei had questions about. Everything except what Dr. Ziegler was working on. Mei knew it had something to do with the TALON operative known as Reaper and that it was somehow connected to Blackwatch. She had enough on her plate without diving head first into new intrigue.
“Athena, what’s the notification?” she asked. Her small robot, affectionately referred to in the facility as Snowball, whirred, ready to be of assistance.
“Security has been disabled in some sectors,” Athena responded in her usual, emotionless voice.
Curious. Mei stood up and Snowball chittered at her. “I am only going to see if I can help.” The robot buzzed into the air. “No, you stay and keep running those tests. I won’t be long.” Snowball again buzzed in irritation, but returned to his station. Mei turned back to the terminal, “Athena, where is Dr. Ziegler?”
Angela hunched over the terminal as the Crucible in front of her churned away. She didn’t understand how the marvelous machine worked any more than she understood the mind of the little man who built it for her, but her heart leapt as she read the numbers. For the first time in weeks, she felt hope. “Athena, report.”
“Freyja is proceeding above all expected parameters. Odds of producing a viable serum are 83%. Crucible pressure is within acceptable range, though mildly increasing.”
All of her simulations had come out at a barely forty percent success rate. A pang of doubt stabbed at the back of her mind. The numbers, while good, were wrong. She had not expected anything like this. Don’t question a good thing.
“Dr. Ziegler? What’s going on? I thought the Crucibles were all decommissioned?” Mei’s soft, kind voice asked. Kind but with a barb of accusation.
“Mei! I didn’t expect you. I have wonderful news. I think I may have perfected my technique for rapid cellular
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