Chapter Text
Ever since she was young, Sombra had followed the power.
Those with power, those who could give her power, assets that made their owners powerful, and especially secrets that made her hold power over others; she had her hand dipped in all of it.
It helped that where the power was, the money often followed. politicians wanting to keep their affairs secret, their embezzlement secret, their double dealings secret, and those were the easiest and least profitable targets.
companies were where the real money was. greedy, greedy corporations. They were all the same too.
lots of money coming in and no money going back into the company circulation, so in other words, minimal cyber security investment.
If Sombra wanted a quick credit, she'd just start siphoning money. simple, easy, untraceable and made her rich. Four of the best things in the world.
but when a girl does those things following those four things over and over and over again, well it betrays the best thing in the world on top of all that. fun.
And that, friends, was where Talon came in. Sombra hated getting scouted by organisations. She would vow it was because it went against her anarcho self-serving ideologies of ‘the rich have never deserved their money unless the rich is me (then it's okay)’. but in a more simple, primitive sense (and one that Sombra accepted as the real truth although she could never say it aloud) was the fact she couldn't deal with the idea anyone saw her as their inferior. she couldn't, just couldn't deal with anyone bossing her around. She was not part of a system, she was the exception to the rule and she will keep being the anomaly in every situation she is ever in because dios mio she is a God and will be treated as such.
…
but back to Talon.
Sombra had her eyes on Talon for a while, but not nearly as long as Vishkar, Lumerico or Helix, which is really what made the org so interesting. She knew everyone important and had done so for a very long time, especially the old Overwatch agents. She knew where every single one of them was hiding after Petras bar two.
One Doctor Moira O'Deorain and a Gabriel Reyes.
Gabriel Reyes was officially dead but Sombra obviously had to make sure of the fact. The other two Overwatch commanders pronounced dead were alive and well but mister Reyes was simply a little data void.
Was he dead? maybe. Was he alive? also maybe.
But the doctor was the really interesting part, seeing as Sombra thought a little genetics doctor would be easy to track down, but for some reason that just wasn't the case.
Interesting people were plentiful, and in a lot of cases they weren't too easy to find. Useful people however were another story entirely.
It wasn't until she learnt of a breach in the defunct overwatch watchpoint Gibraltar where a Talon operative only just failed to steal the locations of the old overwatch members only to be foiled by the gorilla scientist living there, did Sombra start putting the dots together.
First off, it meant the recall of Overwatch, something that Sombra was ready to exploit.
Second, it meant she had something Talon wanted.
and third off, she now knew where Gabriel Reyes went.
—
The next few weeks she started getting to work. She knew that Doomfist the successor was trying to break out of his prison, it was pretty well documented after all. All she had to do was hack into the security system, take the cameras offline and sit pretty on his namesake weapon. If she was being honest to herself she thought it would have been bigger, even though the gauntlet was still massive, sitting on it was less cinematic than she thought it would be.
She heard the slam of rubble onto the floor deep below her in the prison proper. She had already put bullets in the heads of all the guards, just to spell it out in bold for the big brute if he decided it would be easier to simply snap her in half, but her sources informed her Doomfist was an intelligent man.
She waited for her new best friend a slow, dragging and excruciating 20 minutes which felt like two days on this uncomfortable ass gauntlet, but soon enough he walked through the door to the high security evidence room.
Doomfist was far larger than she expected, and she expected him to be massive. He was shirtless wearing only orange prison slacks that looked like they were in a damn 4xl, barefoot with bloody footprints trailing behind him. He spent quite a bit of time surveying the room, seeming like the reason he had taken so long was a methodical analysis of Sombra's gifts to the leader of Talon.
"At least tell me my people have been and gone." He smirks, stepping over a body. Sombra expected an accent, but his was somehow both heavier and lighter than she thought it would be. There was a clear indicator his English was not his first language, or perhaps even his second, who knows. But the sheer performance and clarity with which he spoke almost demanded Sombra's attention, each word carefully thought out and spoken with power even in a casual tone.
"Your special hand here was delivered this morning, it was 'recovered' from Talon custody a few days ago and immediately put on a transport somewhere safe! Of course I'm sure there are other maximum security facilities with the staff to handle it but there was no time you see, so it was sent here for safekeeping." Sombra recounts the absolutely sound cover story Talon was sticking with to Doomfist. "with the manifest files of course was a virus that was uploaded to the main database, but a few boops in the right places and my own much better virus was doing the heavy lifting for you."
Doomfist smiles at her, nursing his wrist as he looks out the nearest window into more interconnected rooms. "A lot of people have gone to much less lengths to get my attention. I expect your next words to be very interesting."
"There are three overwatch agents– the same ones that actually put you in! what a coincidence– on their way to meet you. I stopped all the in house alarms but radios have been silent for too long, higher ups have noticed and we’re being closed in on–" She brings up a holodisplay for nothing more than dramatic effect "--pretty rapidly. I have my escape plan mapped out but a magician never tells her secrets, so I'll let you find your own magic door out of here."
Doomfist walks towards her, heavy footsteps hitting the ground methodically until he leers over her, one hand on either side of her on the table. "I will be needing this then, no?"
Sombra winks, standing up from her very uncomfortable seat on the trademark doom fist and hopping off the ledge, his arms now bracketing her on either side.
"Most men do not like being made a fool by women they do not know." Doomfist chuckles, low and probing, checking for a response.
"Most men don't need much help looking foolish." Sombra smirks, hiding the scowl at the idea her actions were solely to make men feel bad about themselves. she didn't give a shit what men thought of her at the best of times.
"You are correct, which is why most men are not worth my time." He smiles too softly for comfort, searching her face for emotion and not giving away to her if he finds any.
"Good to know you only speak with the best then. It means my time isn't being wasted." Sombra smirks, a long nailed finger running up Doomfist's throat, flicking his chin, something Sombra was amazed he let happen.
"I believe I have some Overwatch agents to kill, if I could be allowed my weapon."
Sombra smirks at him one last time, walking under his armpit since he was that large and tracing his side with her long nails as she goes.
"You strike me as the sort of woman I'll only meet again if she chooses to seek me out." He smirks, looking down at her as he picks up the gauntlet, placing his whole right arm into it. Machinations wirr as soon the gauntlet is fastened to his fist, moving like an extension of himself.
"You survive, I'll know you're the real deal." Sombra gives a thin lipped smile, arms folded as she brings a hand up to wave. "I'll see you later then, maybe."
With that, she was gone, transported back to her temporary apartment two blocks away.
Now all that was left to do was wait. And perhaps evacuate the building depending on how wild the ensuing battle would be.
She couldn't see the prison from here, but it was still too close for comfort. No matter. She's stayed in worse situations before.
Despite her blase attitude for her personal safety, her gear was fucking expensive and money was one of Sombra's greatest motivators. As such once the first earth-shattering rumble was heard promptly followed by screams, everything Sombra cared about was neatly tucked away in her chic little dufflebag, along with her suit which had been exchanged for more casual ware.
The next few minutes had Sombra flex her acting skills. She was so scared! And frightened! and running for her life! But hey, it worked well enough to get her into a relief camp set up by Numbani officials and now she was on a train to the airport. All in all, a great success.
—
Upon being asked by the flight agent where she was headed to she picked somewhere at random, which is why Sombra’s now in Morocco. Of course sipping a very fruity cocktail in a bikini far too small for any sane person, beside a pool with a floppy hat on working on a tan.
In front of her she nurses a tablet, propped up with her knee and displaying first responder footage of Doomfist’s attack on Numbani and the brave ex-overwatch agents taking him on. Why these three very publicly known former overwatch members were overtly and unabashedly fighting Doomfist together was a strategic play that made Sombra absolutely baffled. Surely one would think Overwatch would hide their resurgence until they were large and well equipped enough but hey, they want to shoot themselves in the foot that’s on them.
Sombra shifts her knee up, smiling as she bites down on her cocktail straw. Doomfist was winning. Three against one. A bioginetically enhanced gorilla, a space-time warping speedster and a cyborg ninja against a bare-chested man with a fancy glove.
And dear God was it brutal. Doomfist was delivering punches that were downright dirty, sending the ninja into the side of a building that buckles and creaks under the new dent in its side. He hits the monkey so hard he stays put in the wall he’s slammed into before trying his hardest to get back up again a few seconds later. The ninja throws three shurikens into Doomfist’s back that stick out of his flesh before he simply swats them away, turning to face the man as he charges up the gauntlet again for another hit. This time the swing misses the ninja, the initial blast just slightly off and hitting into a building before the shockwaves catch up with him, blowing him back. The ape gets up finally, running into Doomfist with his full bodyweight but the man simply didn’t budge, standing tall as he turns to face the beast with an unamused look on his face.
Whilst all this is going on he’s been completely ignoring the bullets being shot into him by the tiny zipping woman.
“A refill, ma’am?” Sombra looks up at the waitress looking down at her with her tray of tropical drinks and a bikini uniform she might’ve appreciated if it wasn’t painfully obvious the decision for such uniforms was made by a 50 year old man.
“Of course, linda,” She chuckles, kicking out one of her legs to cross it over the other in a subtle way to obscure the waitress’ view of her tablet. “These are so good and I will not stop anytime soon, baby.”
“Good to know.” The waitress winks, pouring her a mimosa. The eye contact lingers for long enough to signal Sombra’s flirtation had not gone unnoticed.
Sombra simply blows her a kiss as she walks away to tend to other patrons of the lounge bar.
By the time she looks back at her tablet the fight was over and he eyes go wide. Doomfist steps over the gorilla he had just defeated, using his face as an unnecessary step-pad as he walks off down the streets of Numbani. Where he was going was anyone’s guess, but it seems the news helicopter at least had no intentions of letting him go.
Sombra’s interests had re-piqued. Defeating the professional superheroes that came to put him back in his hole was one thing, but escaping this situation? He couldn’t just walk away, that wasn’t viable by any metric.
That was when the car pulled up. Unassuming in every metric, a small mazda that looked like the driver could be anywhere from a 16 year old learning to drive to an 84 year old who had been driving longer than Sombra had been alive. Truly the John Doe of cars.
Doomfist gets in the back seat calmly, paying absolutely nothing and no one any mind, since he had no reason to. And with that, the car drives off.
The helicopter is of course in swift pursuit, but after the five minute mark in the chase, some impressive ducking weaving and all sorts of manouvers obviously made by a professional had let them give it the slip.
Sombra smirks, taking a sip of her drink. Not many people impressed her, she was happy to finally find someone who did.