Chapter Text
The BLU Team received the same Top Secret orders from the Administration through their own fax machine. Miss Pauling's message was simple, but oh so devastating. And this close to Smissmas?! The absolute NERVE!
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OPERATION TWO CITIES
OBJECTIVE: Neutralize Mann Co. robotic threats in close proximity to civilian populations.
LOCATIONS:
- Mannhattan, USA
- Rottenburg, Germany
PERSONNEL:
- Demolition Man: Tavish DeGroot (RED)
- Engineer: Dell R. Conagher (RED)
- Heavy Weapons Expert: Vladislav Nikitin (BLU)
- Medic: Gustav Schmidt (BLU)
- Pyrotechnics Specialist: "Pyro" (RED)
- Scout: Connor Farrow (BLU)
- Sniper: Lawrence Mundy (RED)
- Soldier: Jack Bryant (BLU)
- Spy: "Phillipe Delacroix" (BLU)
Await further instructions.
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They sat around the common room, equally in disbelief. Not only were there more robots to fight, but the team from last time was switched up. There were only two robot-killing veterans within the mix: RED’s Sniper and BLU’s Medic.
Now, Builders' League United would be sending their Heavy, Scout, Soldier, and Spy. It was almost a perfect mirror of RED’s previous lineup.
"L-lemme call Ma real quick..." Connor Farrow, their Scout, kept biting his nails as he wandered over to the phone. He tried to dial the correct number several times before being ultimately successful. “...hey?! Hey Ma! It’s Connah! ” He nervously fidgeted with the phone cord as he tried to break the news to his mother. "W-wrong? Nothin's wrong! Well...?"
"Poor kid..." Dell B. Conagher of Team BLU spoke with a heavy heart. "...his mama lives in Mannhattan now, don't she?"
"..." The rest of them all nodded.
"Dammit..."
“Give us a moment.” Spy walked over and offered to help Scout break the news.
“Huh- hold on Ma… Pops, it’s ok….” Scout shooed him back over to the others.
“...nonsense.” Phillipe stayed by his side regardless.
Some of them listened in to Scout’s conversation with his mother. When it seemed like Scout wasn't getting through to the proud Bostonian woman, Spy was handed the phone. Dammit, he was speaking French! But some of them guessed that Mrs. Farrow was starting to understand how grave the situation was.
Others turned their attention to their Medic. The man looked far too pale for comfort.
"Doc?" Jack, their Soldier, spoke next. "Are you alright? Talk to us, soldier!"
"Dude! Of course he's not...!" Pyro hushed them all after pulling off their mask. The young Californian burn victim sat next to Dr. Schmidt on the long couch. Their damaged, gravelly voice quietly commanded respect among the rest. “Gus? I know, it’s totally bogus…”
"I cannot go back zhere. Please." Dr. Schmidt looked down at the list in his hands again. "Zhey must send Herr Ludvig to Rottenburg. Not me."
"Luwig is too much like the other guy." Pyro shivered. "It’s gotta be YOU, man. Come on...”
"Nein. I barely handled Halloveen. Vhat happened in Rottenburg? I-i can’t do zhis."
"Da. Was bad part of Doktor's life." Vladislav nodded solemnly. "But, team can help-"
"I CAN'T!!" Gustav jumped to his feet and let the report fall from his hands. Cold breath started to leave their Medic’s lips, as if winter had settled into the room with them. It hadn't. “...s-sorry, I’m sorry! Ughhh not again!”
“Ees OK. Take deep breaths weeth Vlad. We do together.”
"Nein!!" Frost started to creep up his spectacles and across his fingers. "Pizda!"
"Come now, Doktor. Een? And out... Een? And out..."
Heavy led by example until their magically-inclined Medic had no choice but to follow his instruction. They breathed together. Slowly, the frost receded.
None of the BLU Team blamed Gustav for the outburst. Based on what their Polish Medic had shared with them, they wished Dr. Schmidt didn't have to go either. The Schmidt family had been taken from the sleepy town of Rottenburg. No one helped them. Not one villager opposed those Schutzstaffel fuckers.
And he knew it hadn't been the Ludwigs that tipped them off. Of course it wasn't... The Ludwigs had been run out of town. Again, according to Gustav's story. One of the Luwigs decided that implanting a wolf liver in their patient was a good idea.
"...schmidty?" Spy spoke after he had snuck up on their Medic. The man did not flinch, even as a slender pair of gloved hands rested on his shoulders. "We are not blaming ourselves, are we?"
".........neeeeein." Gustav crossed his arms. "But do not expect me to be HAPPY about zhis! I AM ZHE OPPOSITE OF HAPPY!"
"Good man." Medic received a gentle pat on the shoulder before Spy walked back towards Scout.
Gustav was still frowning for a good long while, but eventually let his animosity fade. He wasn't mad at his team. Heaven's no. They were basically family at this point. Or at least the closest thing he had to a family in decades.
Meanwhile, Connor spent another few minutes debating with his mother over the phone. When he came back, he sat next to Rodric and leaned into him.
"Ma won't leave..."
"What? Ees dangerous!" Vladislav was shocked.
"Heh! Try tellin' HER that!" Scout crossed his arms.
"She tell ye why?” Rodric wondered.
"Yeah Roddy, says those’a us goin’ can stay at her place." He looked away. "What th' hell, man!”
"Really? She vould risk her safety to shelter us?" Gustav wondered. "Zhat's coo-coo crazy talk."
"EX-ACT-LYyyy!" The younger man threw his hands up in the air. He was truly at his wit's end.
“She is one tough woman.” Phillipe added. “She can handle her own. But I agree, this is pushing it.”
“...yeah.” Connor looked over towards his father, their Spy.
"Eez there bed for Katerina? At leetle Scout’s Mother’s house?" Vlad worried for his mini-gun.
"...what the fuck, Vlad. Ya don't get a bed for ya gun!"
"Katerina eez classy gun. Weell not put her on floor like heartless baby-man."
"Then bring a cot!"
"NYET!"
The rest of the conversation got derailed by the Katerina debacle. Would she get her own mini-bed? A cot? Or would Heartless Baby Scout be forcing his teammate to treat his honorable, classy gun like some common grenade? This pissed off the others, who were clearly trying to focus on the actual mission.
Spy soon set things straight. There were no guarantees with the lodgings. There were no guarantees, period. These were desperate times they would be facing. War against an enemy without flesh and blood! Scout confirmed this was not the house he grew up in. Who knew if there would be anything even remotely tenable!
Putting it into those terms seemed to do the trick.
Lawrence "Mick" Mundy packed up the remainder of the gear he would need. He would be foregoing many luxuries on this mission, including the privacy of his camper van. That wasn't new to him, exactly. He was more worried about other matters as he packed.
For that reason, he packed a reliable rifle and his best knife. Maybe some more empty jars for good measure...
"Feels loike the last mission was a bloody cake-wolk..." He shook his head in bewilderment as he spoke to himself inside his van. "An' we even fought Merasmus at th' end...holy dooly."
It was only a few months ago. They had been fighting the robots out in the desert, among the buildings of abandoned Mann Co. assets.
Now, they were targeting densely populated areas. That was something he was not looking forward to. Civilians were unpredictable at the best of times, and these were about to be the worst of times.
"Well, one silvah loinin' is we get t' foight togethah again...?" He sighed wistfully as he thought about his boyfriend of two months: Dr. Schmidt. Thinking about the handsome doctor always made his heart feel lighter. "We can get though this, t'gethah. Just...gotta convince th' rest'a RED, is oll."
Those being sent for the mission met in the briefing room. Sniper, Demo, Engie, and Pyro scooted their chairs in and got down to business.
"Goiys, listen-"
"We get it, Mickey: Play nice." Dell R. Conagher patted his arm. "We can handle a lil ol' cooperation, can't we fellas?"
"But...?" Mick was confused. "Y' ain't worried?"
"Look. Ay ain't thrilled," Tavish shrugged. "But anno Jackie. An' anno how they work." He took another swig of scrumpy. "Cannae be as bad as yer makin' it soond, Mick."
"So...none'a ya are worried?"
"Nope." Dell R. admitted.
"Nr hrr." It was hard to tell if Pyro was genuinely unbothered, or if they were putting on a brave face. (None of them could see their face, for a start.)
"Wut 'bout Spoi? Huh?"
“Hehe, don’t worry ‘bout Spah. He ain’t gonna mess with us. Trust me.”
“…roight.” Sniper was a little perplexed with that answer. "Whoi ya say tha', Truckie?"
"Well. A-ah mean...he needs us t' win, don't he? The Spook can't take on them robots all on his lonesome."
"That's true."
They looked over the specifics that had been faxed over. Maps showed them areas that the robots were most likely to strike. Where to take shelter, where to restock supplies.
It still felt like this was staged, again. That's what made Sniper squirm. Their own Spy had warned him to not look too far into it, but this was getting ridiculous. How did they really know where Mann. Co. would strike? Had they made a strike already?! None of this was normal. Well... Their jobs weren't considered normal, either.
"Hrr drr dm mddrk?"
"Nah, ma'e." Sniper reassured his gasmask-clad teammate. "Thei' Medic ain't gonna troi nothin'. Promise. He was solid, last toime..."
"Snrrpr? Rrh wr gnnr frrt -L Nrck?"
"W-wot?! No. No, we ain't foightin' Ole Nick. He's dead."
"......aye. Fair enough." Tavish took another drink to that.
The four mercenaries heard a knock on the door.
"Come on in," Dell R. invited their visitor in.
"Ah! Zhere you all are." Dr. Ludwig entered the briefing room. "Ve have an update to zhe marching orders!"
"Really...lemme see?"
"Here."
Ludwig handed him yet another top secret fax message. The others were thrilled with the news. Their Engineer tried not to look concerned. These changes were about to cause a whole helluva stink...
~~~~~~
Meanwhile, At Headquarters...
"Both teams have headed out."
"All of them?"
"Yes, Ma'am. All of those selected are headed to the plane. Even the new additions." Miss Pauling reported to her boss.
"Very good." The Administrator blew another puff of smoke as she observed the cameras in the team vans. "They're relatively early for once. Make sure it stays that way."
"Of course."
Miss Pauling ventured further into the office and offered the Administrator a file she had requested. Helen took them and sifted through in silence. Then she chuckled aloud.
"Oh-ho, so they did finish testing after all?"
"Yes. I mean, no. They only tested with a medi-gun, not-"
"Approved." Helen's eyes gleamed as she signed the form on the front. "Fax that to Acquisitions."
"....right away, Ma'am."
Flo Pauling took the file back. Before leaving, she quickly switched out the coffee pots. Helen waved her off with a non-committal hum. The young assistant's heels clicked down the hall as she returned to her own desk.
She faxed the information over, then called it in to be sure the new gear was on that plane.
Each of the BLU mercenaries tried to appear calm as they waited near the small runway. They waited to board the plane, as directed, until all of the mercenaries were present.
"Admin's makin' us fly with 'em?" Connor wondered nervously.
"Ja, zhey are." Gustav nodded as he checked the horizon again. "Vhere are zhey? Ve'll be late..."
"Why."
"To save on cost, no doubt." Phillipe took another drag of his cigarette. Scout looked especially worried by that. He adopted a knowing look as he selected a cigarette from his disguise kit and offered it up to his son. "For your nerves."
"Thanks, Pops. But, uh..." Connor shook his head. "Ma'd kill me if she smelled smoke on me..."
"Good point." Phillipe nodded and put the cigarette back. "Until Germany, then?"
"Yeah. Yeah, until then."
Further away, Heavy and Soldier were putting on their worst attempt at acting normal. They whispered to each other so the rest of their allies couldn't hear.
"...hey comm-rad, do you think they're onto us?"
"They weell be eef you keep lookeeng like that."
"Like what?"
"Your smile looks like constipated mule. Stop that." Vlad shoved Jack in the arm.
"I do not look like that."
"You do. Feex eet."
"But we are going to meet Scout's Mother. And we have to pretend we never saw her going at it with-"
"SHHH." Vlad covered Jack's mouth. "We CANNOT say that."
"Oh...right..."
Jack Bryant was released from the Russian's grip and tried to fix his not-so-cheery smile. It was more like when a horse chewed at its bit. Those scandalous photographs came back to the forefront of his mind. It was impossible to forget! Sun Tzu made misdirection sound so easy, but it was actually really hard!
Jack tried to focus on the horizon instead. Keeping watch for enemies was easier. He started to see dust kicked up into the air.
"Look alive Maggots! Team Ladies is fast approaching!" Jack pointed at the approaching truck.
"....wait. What the-" Connor heard something through his earpiece. "Guys. GUYS! It's Bell!"
"Nein. He's too far avay, Connor." Gustav disagreed.
"No, Doc! I really heah 'im! He's sayin'...-wait repeat that, Bell? Yah what?"
It looked like a white and red truck was approaching. It was leaving behind a wake of red dust in the desert sand. Then, a beat-up blue motorcycle pulled out from behind it and sped far ahead. The rider of the motorcycle reached them and skidded to a halt. A tall Aussie with hair down to his shoulder blades had a backpack with him. Why did he have that?
"Hey! HEY!" Bellamy yanked off his helmet. "DON'T freak out!"
"Vhat? Vhat is going on?" Dr. Schmidt got to him first. "Vhy are you out here? Und vhy did you-?" He focused on the backpack. "Vait. You're joining us?"
"Yup. Oi'm afraid it ain't just me joinin' the fun, though..."
A 'Red Bread' company truck approached their end of the runway. While Mr. Mundy as behind the wheel, it was Dr. Ludwig waving hello in the passenger seat. All members of Builders' League United were set on edge as the van slowed to a steady halt.
"~Hallooo!~" Dr. Ludwig put the van in park and stepped out first. "Are ve all ready to go?"
"No. No!" Scout backed away.
"Uh...jes?" Herbert seemed amused by the surprise his presence was bringing. "Didn't you hear zhe news, mein freunds?"
"New ordahs..." Bellamy held up a freshly-printed fax from admin.
"GIMME that!" Connor ripped the paper from Bellamy's hand. He skimmed the contents, then balled it up in his hands. "Sonnuva- NO FREAKIN' WAY!"
All passengers exited the RED Bread van. The others lingered near the BLU Bagels van and motorcycle. After a few uncomfortable stares, someone finally worked up the courage to speak.
"Come on, Men! We cannot enter into alliances until we are acquainted with the designs of our neighbors!" Soldier walked forward. "Hey! Tavish!"
"...aye?" Mr. DeGroot looked over at him.
"State your business!"
"Kickin' robot arse, laddy."
"GREAT! SO ARE WE!" That's all it took for Jack to be satisfied. He quickly embraced his long-time friend and started walking them over to the airplane to board first. "Hehehh. Come on! Let's go get the good seats, pal."
"Awright. Lassies first!"
"Hahah! No, you!"
"No, YOU!"
"Fils de pute- Out of my fuckeeng way." Phillipe pushed both men aside and actually boarded first.
The others began filing into the plane. This wasn't some refurbished commercial jet-liner. It looked more like a private aircraft! This thrilled Soldier, who had already staked out his and Demoman's seats together. It still seemed to be divided into two sections. Dr. Schmidt doubted it was for their benefit. He also doubted he would have a chance to sit with his boyfriend.
Instead, Vlad requested Gustav sit nearest to him.
Before anyone could get too comfortable, a screen towards the front of the jet came to life with the image of Miss Pauling.
"HR-DRR!" Pyro waved excitedly.
"Hello, Pyro. Eh, and everyone." She nervously smiled before continuing. "Are you all there?"
"Yeh." Mr. Mundy nodded.
"Good."
"Just how bad is it?" Phillipe asked.
"...pretty bad." She readjusted her glasses. "I'll explain on the way."