Chapter Text
The large, leather suitcase hit the cushiony sand with a quiet “poomf!” Medic wiped the sweat from his brow with a sigh, relieved that the long walk up from the winding dunes was finally over. Just at the edge of the bay’s cusp was a charming beach house, far enough away from town to give him plenty of privacy but close enough to not need a car to get anywhere.
It was absolutely dazzling.
Palm trees swayed gently in the hot, salt-tinted breeze—bringing with it the call of gulls and the tide gushing over the brink. The bright sands were bejeweled with sparkling shells, gleaming like polished pearls beneath the evening sky. Looking out onto the red and orange horizon, Medic could see the slow-chugging boats making their long journey to the mainland of Australia.
He was impressed by none of it.
Of all the places he could have been contract-bound to, why did it have to be here?
The man would’ve much preferred being assigned to his homeland of Germany, giving him some time to perhaps visit the old trotting-grounds of his youth or savor a pint of famous lager, but that ended up not working out for him. Yes, while that was the original destination planned for him during the long ceasefire, The Administrator had a sudden change of mind last-minute.
See, normally she couldn’t be bothered at all with what the mercenaries did during their ceasefires. She would oftentimes just unleash them back on their homelands or wherever they wanted to go and just focus on her own business matters for a while, but something unexpected had come up. One of her many hired “eyes and ears” from around the world had mentioned in passing that there was quite a bit of uneasiness stirring in a small island off of Australia. The residents seemed like the superstitious variety, blaming the sudden influx of extreme weather and unfortunate happenings on supernatural forces rather than the ongoing climate crisis. The island went by the name of “Botany Bay”, an idyllic land mainly inhabited by Irish immigrants who brought the folklore and mythology from their country with them.
”They’re convinced there’s monsters,” the informant told her, shaking his head with wide eyes.
The Administrator stamped out her cigarette, unamused by the rather childish change of subject.
”And why would I care about something like that?” She muttered, flicking her lighter beneath a fresh smoke.
”I think I’ve seen one,” The man said, his voice shaking slightly. He didn’t dare challenge The Administrator, but he was desperate for someone to believe him.
”They’ve got magic. Weird properties. Everyone says they’ve seen them. Ships have gone missing. People have gone missing. There’s just something not right about that place,” he pleaded.
The man hesitantly reached into his back pocket, placing a crumpled up newspaper article onto The Administrator’s desk with quivering fingers.
”Please,” he whispered, “Just look.”
The Administrator raised an eyebrow, her lip curling upward with disgust as she eyed the piece of paper in front of her. Rolling her eyes, she slid the paper into her hands and crossed one leg over the other as she read its contents.
Slowly, her features began to change. Her finger stopped clicking impatiently against the arm of her chair and her posture went rigid. When she was finished, she dropped the newspaper back onto the table and closed her eyes, deep in thought. When they opened again, a wicked smile spread across her face and she nodded to the informant still standing expectedly in front of her.
”I’m very happy you’ve brought this to my attention. This is good work,” she said, still nodding to herself as she formulated her next move.
The man only nodded firmly in return, not wanting to show just how happy he was that his boss had not only acknowledged his work, but believed in him.
The Administrator’s cunning eyes flickered up to him before she stood, suddenly growing rather serious as she delivered her official order.
”Don’t let this get out to the press. The last thing we need is cheap tourists interfering with my investigation. News of these creatures are not to leave Botany Bay, do you understand?” A sharp fingernail clicked against the cover of the news clipping.
”Yes ma’am!” The man said, his back straightening.
”Very good. For your sake, may you not disappoint me,” She said, dismissing him with a wave of her hand as she sat down once more in her chair.
The man couldn’t leave fast enough, growing uncomfortable under his boss’ gaze as he scurried out of the room. Left alone in the silence, The Administrator exhaled another stream of cigarette smoke. Her fingers grazed over the small red button on her armrest, and it buzzed faintly. A voice echoed from the small speaker within.
”Ma’am?” It asked.
”Pauling,” The Administrator hissed, “I need you to fetch me The Medic. I’m changing his assignment.”
”Yes ma’am.”
Click.
And just like that, Germany was no longer in the cards for our poor, poor Medic.
He tore his longing gaze from the evening sky and picked his bag off the sand, dusting it off with his hand before unlocking the sun-bleached door to his temporary ocean-side residence. It was spacious, with a full kitchen, a luxurious bathroom and bedroom, and a modest living room. Plus, nothing could beat the view of the water lapping at the coast just an arm’s length away. Medic left his stuff at the door, making his way as instructed to the small end table nestled against the hallway connecting the bedroom and living room. On the table was a simple rotary phone and a slip of paper with a number written on it.
The Administrator picked up on the third ring.
”I take it you’ve settled in?” She asked, not really caring that much either way.
”Ja,” he replied, masking his displeasure as tiredness.
“Good. You’ll find the file detailing your assignment on the bed. You’ve brought your equipment as instructed, yes?”
Medic glanced subconsciously towards the suitcase still lying by the door. As well as his toiletries, the bag was full of the same razor-sharp tools that he had come to love.
”Ja,” he said again.
”Alright then. I’ll leave the rest to you. Your new civilian clothes are already organized in the closet and dresser in the bedroom. Your doves should be finished shipping over by tomorrow.”
Medic brightened slightly at that, hoping to himself that they were alright and managing the trip without problems. He insisted on taking his precious pets with him, but they had to be mailed over separately.
“Ah, right,” Medic said, “Goodbye then.”
Click.
The Medic trailed listlessly up to the window, staring out at the churning waves with his arms held primly behind his back.
It was going to be a long summer indeed.