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EXTRACTION AT 10 PERCENT
Gabe grimaced underneath his mask at the loud announcement. Who designed this thing? It wasn’t exactly stealth-friendly. The big, obnoxiously bright loading bar on the screen was enough as it is.
Then again, Gabriel thought looking behind his shoulder for a quick scan of the room, is it really stealth if you just kill everyone that stands in your path?
[No signs of life]
Well, what’s important in the end that there’s no witnesses. Gabe would rather keep under the radar as long as possible and everyone knows that dead men tell no tales.
EXTRACTION AT 22 PERCENT
Gabriel traced the keys of the console watching the steadily rising numbers.
It’s been six years since the explosion. Six years since the roof caved in over their heads and buried their bodies beneath the crumbled walls. Six very long, very exhausting years since someone stole Gabriel’s life, destroyed everything and everyone he loved and he still had no answers.
But not for long now.
EXTRACTION AT 34 PERCENT
He had been observing this Talon base for a month, memorizing the patrol paths, looking for weak points and waiting for the best time to strike. When Widowmaker left the site 6 hours ago with two squads accompanying her - almost certainly on their way to interfere with another mission of the newly recalled Overwatch - Gabe got ready to attack after the sunset.
The thought of his former teammates brought a frown to his face. Fools, all of them.
The plan was simple. Get in, get the data, destroy security footage, get out. And kill everyone you meet because fuck those guys. They had it coming for getting involved with Talon. Gabriel will not rest till everyone paid for what they’ve done to him. To them.
EXTRACTION AT 49 PERCENT
As the digital voice pulled him out of his thoughts, Gabriel realized that he was… cold? All the Kevlar layers he was wearing made it difficult to notice the changes in the temperature unless it was drastic enough. He turned around once again giving the room a scan, this time more thorough. Darkness engulfed the whole place. The only source of light was the console screen and half-way open doors to the hallway. His tactical visor gave no signs of life and Gabe felt a shiver go down his spine. He breathed out through his mask to see it condensate in front of his face, the glow of his visor tinted the mist red.
Calmly, he reached for his shotguns, putting his fingers on the triggers, ready to fire at the first sight of movement. He took a step forward and glanced down when it suddenly kicked up a puff of white smoke. A thick layer of fog hovered just above the floor. It was dense and his visor helpfully told him it’s temperature was below zero. Great. How did they know that Gabe just loved freezing to death?
Putting his disdainful thoughts aside, Gabriel made his way to the middle of the room. It felt like walking in a soup of dry ice, unpleasant and unnerving. Even worse, every step launched more and more smoke into the air, slowly filling up the room and rendering his thermovision completely useless.
EXTRACTION AT 65 PERCENT
Something flashed neon blue in the corner of his vision and Gabriel swung around to face it. Nothing. A whirlwind of smoke coiled around him before quietly settling again. Despite his armor absorbing most of the chill in the air, Gabriel felt himself starting to shiver. He was getting more annoyed with each passing second of nothing happening. His fists clenched around his guns. He won’t be played with like it’s some kind of twisted game of cat and mouse.
“Come out, fucker,” Gabriel called out, voice distorted by the mask and echoing in the empty space. “I don’t have time for your bullshit.”
The silence following Gabe’s outburst was almost deafening. Nothing moved. The fog seemed to grow even thicker. He understood now why this mysterious agent of Talon put dread into hearts of so many. No one ever saw them coming until it was too late. Ghost, they’ve called it. Gabriel himself only ever heard rumours but his heartbeat was beginning to speed up. How was he supposed to fight with a ghost? Looking at it probably won’t do the trick.
There’s a hand on his side.
Gabriel froze. How long had it been there? He didn’t feel it before. Just smoke, cold and thick, surrounding him, drifting between his legs, coiling around his arms and waist, and now it was a hand, sharp points digging into the black leather of his jacket.
Another hand appeared at his other side and this time he felt it right away. He spun around, firing twice but his shots only met smoke as the hands and whomever they’ve belonged to disappeared even before he finished turning. Gabe cursed aloud, still feeling the phantom pressure of the claws, and started shooting all around, loud bangs echoing through the room, empty shells dropping to the ground, bullets cutting through the fog as if it was nothing, and it was, it was nothing, just smoke, fuck, what was he even doing, wasting ammo like that?
He stopped.
EXTRACTION AT 81 PERCENT
His breathing was ragged, temperature still low enough for it to come out in white puffs. He didn’t dare lower his shotguns just yet, even though they were nearly empty. The fog was settling, dropping down to lay on the floor again as if it suddenly gained weight. When the room was mostly clear again, a column of smoke rose directly in front of Gabriel, just a few meters away.
And right next to the console.
Smoke formed into a figure in one fluid movement. They were facing away and all Gabriel could see was a long coat that seemed to melt into the fog on the floor, Kevlar-covered arms and a back of someone’s head that was 80% smoke and only 20% hair, everything bone-white and metallic black like the rest of the room.
“And what do we have here, hmrrr?” a voice spoke up. It was low and gruff, with an inhuman growl in its undertones. It was as if two beings were speaking at the same time, one of which was ready to eat Gabe alive while the other was content to just watch it happen.
EXTRACTION AT 96 PERCENT
Fuck. He had to do something.
“It’s not an everyday sight when a sheep walks into a wolf’s den,” the Ghost continued. Their hands moved above the console, their back blocking Gabriel’s vision but he could fucking guess what they were doing.
Gabe strode to the figure. One shotgun raised to strike and–
His wrist caught in a vice grip, the rest of his body yanked harshly forward, smoke rushing in to keep his body still and Gabriel found himself face to face with a blank mask, empty dark holes where the eyes should be, tiny dots of cyan blue drilling into his soul, visor flashing messages of no signs of life, no heat signatures, no targets, no threats.
“On its own.” Snarl. Grip around his wrist tightens, clumping down like a jaw of wild beast. “Free.” Growl. Claws piercing through armor with a sickening crack. “Will.” A roar loud enough to mask Gabriel’s yell of pain, the clattering of a shotgun hitting the floor, the ringing in his ears.
EXTRACTION AT 98 PER–
EXTRACTION CANCELLED.
Gabriel opened his eyes just in time to see Ghost taking their hand off the console. Did they really just calmly turn off the downloading program instead of smashing through it like they did to his poor wrist? Gabe hoped the glare he gave them when they turned to face him again conveyed all the spite he felt at the moment.
“Should have stayed with your little flock of Overwatch has-beens,” Ghost purred, reaching for his visor.
No. Over his dead fucking body.
“Fuck you,” Gabriel hissed and slammed his head straight into Ghost’s mask.
It worked. His vision glitched for a second but the smoke released its hold on his body. He yanked his wrist free and swung with the hand still holding his second shotgun, slamming it into the side of the stunned Ghost’s head and sent them sprawling on the floor.
He immediately followed it with a shot but the body already dispersed into the fog. Gabriel sneered. He was getting too old for this shit. Gabe picked up his discarded shotgun and checked it over for any damage.
“Not my flock anymore, Boo, but it’d still be better than being Talon’s lapdog,” he said, glancing towards the console. The most logical option would be a quick tactical retreat but that would mean letting that walking vaping machine win and Gabriel still had some self-respect left, okay?
“If you are not with them, little sheepy, then why are doing this?”
He aimed his guns at the source of the voice. Ghost stood there calmly, a big crack bisecting their mask. Now that they were facing him, Gabriel could see that their coat was wide open with lapels framing their chest in a painfully familiar way.
That coat.
That frayed, bleached thing was once a piece of Overwatch Strike Team uniform.
“Who the fuck are you?” Gabe snarled.
He tried to calm himself. It didn’t mean anything. That coat could be stolen. Recreated. They could be wearing it in mockery, just to spite him, just to fuck with him, anything but–
Ghost tilted their head slightly to the side. A moment passed when they both just stared at each other.
“Why don’t you tell me that?”
Gabriel frowned but before he could say anything, Ghost raised his clawed fingers to their mask and Gabe fell silent in anticipation. It went away with ease, dissolving into smoke half-way through. The hand hovered for a few second before pulling away and finally exposing their face.
Gabriel took a step back.
It was… It couldn’t be. It had to be a trick. There was no way that–
“Jack?”
His voice was disbelieving but how could he doubt it when proof was right before him? He would know this face anywhere, badly scarred as it was. The jawline his fingers knew by heart and the nose he used to kiss every morning. Eyes with the most striking shade of blue Gabriel had ever seen that now glowed in the dark, their color wrong, unnatural, the sickly blue-green of electricity. There were shadows underneath them and crow’s feet like lightning strikes stretched over his temples. The scars, though, were new. Three diagonal slashes covered his face, with the biggest one going from his forehead, down the bridge of his nose and onto his right cheek. Burn scars littered the skin on the left side, disappearing beneath the skin-tight material of his shirt and Gabe could only guess they continue down his neck and collarbone, maybe even lower.
Still, there was no mistake. That face belonged to Jack. His Jack.
“Jack,” Ghost repeated, over-pronouncing, as if tasting the word for the first time. When he opened his mouth, Gabe saw the same glow his eyes had, only more intense, the enlarged teeth a beacon in the surrounding darkness. “Was that my name?”
Gabriel lowered his guns. He was shocked, he didn’t know what to think beyond holy shit, Jack is alive.
“What are you–? Of course, that’s your name! What the fuck! You are supposed to be dead! How the hell are you alive? And what the fuck are you doing with Talon?! I cannot believe, you son of a bitch, that you–“
Suddenly, Jack was right in his face, his claws clutching the chin of Gabe’s faceplate. Fog rose around them.
“You knew me, didn’t you? You know who I am.” Jack’s eyes bore into him. Their glow was weaker at such a close distance but it didn’t help one bit. They were blank. Glazed over. Dead. Gabriel felt dread settling over him and grabbed at Jack’s arm. Something was wrong. Of course something was wrong, Jack would never work with Talon on his own free–
Will.
Gabriel felt his eyes widen.
Widowmaker. Was Jack like her? But she still had her memories and Jack appeared to have lost his. Still, if Talon took Jack– When? When had they taken him? After the explosion? No one ever found their bodies. Not Jack’s and certainly not Gabe’s. Fuck. All this time? Jack has been alive all this time? Six fucking years? In Talon’s hands, at their fucking mercy, being turned into this- this thing? Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!
“Jack,” Gabriel rasped, trying to pull him closer. “¡Dios mío! Jack, please.”
Jack stared at him, unfazed. His hand loosened its grip on Gabe’s masked chin and reached for the release switches. After a moment of feeling around, he found them, taking both the mask and the visor off Gabe’s face.
Gabriel blinked at the change of light. Or rather at the sudden lack of it. The shine of Jack’s eyes was still enough for Gabe to see him clearly but that vacant expression made him wish he couldn’t. Gabriel’s very expensive tech clattered on the floor. One sharp claw touched his exposed skin. It traced the curve of an old scar on his cheek in a surprisingly gentle manner.
“What’s your name, Soldier?” Jack asked, still staring blankly at the scar.
Gabriel debated with himself whether he should tell an agent of Talon out of everyone his closely guarded true identity but sentimentality won in the end.
“Gabriel.”
“Gabriel,” Jack repeated, finally looking into Gabe’s eyes again. “Gabriel…”
He glanced away, seeming deep in thought. Gabriel willed himself to stay still. Had hearing his name caused Jack to remember something? He tightened his grip on Jack’s arm.
“Gabriel.” Jack breathed out heavily and a huge amount of smoke poured out from his mouth. It danced around them in a swirly pattern. “Gabriel… Reyes?”
“Yeah,” Gabe nodded, feeling relieved, almost giddy. Fuck, what a day. “Yeah, that’s me. And you are Jack. Jack Morrison. Gabriel Reyes and Jack Morrison.”
The hand on his face shifted, moving to lay on the nape of Gabe’s neck. The points of the metal claws felt like icicles even through the layers of his clothes.
“Well, Gabriel Reyes. I have some questions I was waiting a really long time to ask.”
Gabriel nodded. It’s not like he would just walk away after learning his freaking husband was alive.
“Yeah, okay. Ask away.”
Jack tilted his head again and for the first time since he took off his mask, Gabe saw a flicker of emotion in his eyes. Curiosity? Confusion over Gabriel’s quick agreement?
“Not here,” he said, shaking his head. He put his other hand on Gabe’s side. “Take a deep breath.”
There was nothing in Jack’s expression that screamed trust me but Gabe did anyway.
He took a deep breath.
A tiny quirk of Jack’s mouth and a flash of blue was the last thing Gabriel saw before white smoke swallowed him whole.