R.E.D.

'How had it come to this?'

Sniper peered over edge of the wooden watchtower towards no-mans land, his eyes shifting from left to right, looking out for the tell-tale flash of blue that would reveal his enemies position.

'What went wrong?'

He sighed as he took a sip of coffee from his favorite mug. A gift from his mother.

He hadn't seen her in a long time, not since dad had found out about his, 'special talent'. There wasn't a day that went past that he didn't think about her, how much he missed her.

Another sip.

Not his dad though. As polite as he acted to him on the phone, he couldn't care less about the stupid tosser. He could go to hell for all he cared.

He sighed again.

Sniper had never asked for the life of a professional assassin. When he was young, he was always interested in books. He loved the way they could carry him to a different world. A world of magic and wizards, perhaps. A world of crime and mystery, maybe. A world without his dad's stupid rants. He always enjoyed his own company, a trait that would come in useful later in his life.

However, no-one can make a career out of reading books. Sniper had never really been very good at conventional subjects, subjects that got people good, honest jobs out of. Despite his interest in literature, he was no good at English, he couldn't tell his elements from his compounds, and as for maths, well.

However, if there was one thing he was good at, it was marksmanship. He first found his talent at his local boy scout group, getting 88 points from 10 shots on his first go with a training rifle. He perfected his skill round his mate's farm, eventually taking up a career as a tracker of dangerous game in the unforgiving Australian outback. There, his companionship with his own mind flourished, loosing many of his emotions for other people in the process.

That was why he was such a good assassin.

And here he was. 40 years old working, for a mysteriously aggressive Demolition company called RED, and stuck in the middle of nowhere with:

-A Black Scottish cyclops, who is always drunk.

-A crazy German doctor.

-A masked psycho with a flamethrower.

-A lanky Frenchman, with an unsettling habit of appearing from nowhere.

-An overweight Russian, who is in a relationship with his gun.

-A mad soldier with a collection of fake medals.

-A Texan with a strange fetish for advanced mechanics.

-And a kid from Boston, who apparently loves himself.

Trying to capture a briefcase full of 'vital intelligence' from a group of blood-thirsty, heavily armed, and equally insane group of mercenaries. Who just happened to be working for a company called the 'Builders League United'. Seems that the global construction industry is a lot more competitive than it first appears.

"Hey, Sniper"

Sniper took his gaze away from no-mans land to look straight down at the ground below him. Standing there was the huge form of Heavy weapons guy.

"Where is Engineer?" his voice was demanding but friendly at the same time. Heavy was one of the friendliest guys sniper knew even if he was a little slow, but heaven forbid if you made him angry. You weren't coming out of that without at least one broken face.

Sniper groaned. "Well how the bloody hell am I supposed to know? I'm supposed to be keeping watch for..." He froze as he noticed a flash of blue out of the corner of his left eye.

'Shit'

The wooden planks above Sniper's head exploded into splinters as a bullet tore into the roof, forcing him to duck down.

"I know bullet when I hear one!" Heavy said, snapping from his relaxed stance to one of high alert.

"Quickly! get that bloody Engineer down here right now! He should be in his tinkering shed!" Shouted Sniper, keeping low inside the frail structure of the watchtower. Heavy nodded.

"Right away! Come, Sasha" the huge man ran off towards the shack that Engineer had decided to set up shop in, carrying his huge weapon as if it were merely paper. 'Practical Solutions' he called it, as if it was some kind of convenience store. Bloody hell, what was wrong with that man?

A rocket whistled past the watchtower, slamming into a nearby shack and reducing it to sawdust. This place really wasn't designed to withstand an attack the magnitude of the one that was being launched against them now.

But what could they do? They had only arrived here last night, under the cover of darkness. A ghost town, situated only a mile from Blu HQ. It had seemed a little to convenient, especially to the saner members of the team. These suspicions had been proven to be true when mortar shells begun to rain upon their heads at 5am in the morning. Luckily, they had a thing up their sleeve that the blues certainly wouldn't be expecting.

Most of the men had chosen to drink and play cards during this time, INCLUDING the one who should've been hard at work, making sure those teleporters were completely safe and fully functioning.

Sniper, however, was out surveying the town. Finding the best sniping spots, stashing supplies in convenient locations, and enjoying a bit of piece and quiet to read his new book, 'of Mice and Men' by the American author John Steinbeck. He was used to isolation from his previous job, and had taught himself to enjoy his own company.

"Better find a better spot" he said to himself. Important rule of Sharpshooting: when spotted, get the fuck out of there.

He tossed a grenade in the direction of the attacking forces.

"That should keep em' busy" He waited for the explosion of the grenade before jumping through the trap door in the floor and sliding down the ladder, bullets whizzing past him on all sides from the mercenaries who were brave (or stupid) enough to keep their heads up during the storm of shrapnel.

'How had it come to this?'

He grinned.

'What more could a bloke ask for?'

"Hurry, schweinhund!"

Engineer hurried after Medic, one hand on his head, trying to stop his hardhat from flying off, the other holding the packed up teleporter that literally could decide the fate of the entire team. If this didn't work, they could be trapped here and overwhelmed by the blues, who outnumbered them a hundred to one.

Or worse. They could end up being teleported somewhere completely unexpected. Into space, deep under the sea, 30 thousand feet up in the air. Even inside solid rock.

He decided it was best that he didn't voice his worries to his comrades. No need to unnecessarily panic the team about something that they had no control over. Anyway, he had complete confidence that it would work.

The two men ran down the narrow streets, the sound of gunfire and explosions growing louder and more defined as they neared the front lines. They heard the sound of heavy footsteps behind them.

"Ah! there you are" came a cry of delight from behind them. Rather than stopping, the two men slowed to a jog to allow the chunky Russian to catch up.

"Hallo Heavy, what a pleasant surprise" Medic frowned.

"What are you doing here, though?"

"I am here to fetch the Engineer!" he shouted over the explosion of a stray sticky bomb. They must be getting close. Either that or Demoman needed some serious help with his aim.

"Well, I'm afraid I've beaten you too it!"

"Howdy" Engineer waved sheepishly at Heavy.

Medic skipped round a large crater that was blocking his path. It seemed that Blu's mortar teams had done an exemplary job of re-constructing the landscape of the town.

"Now hurry friends! too the town square! that is the agreed meeting point!"

"Too the rendezvous!" shouted Engineer and the three ran down the ash choked street, towards death, glory, or whatever else awaited them in the smoke.

"And, Calibrate"

Spy's fingers drifted gently over the large red button on the side of the now humming teleportation device. The rotary fans spun softly and the machine began to hum delicately. He pressed his finger down and quickly stood back, watching the device with a mixture of excitement and curiosity.

Slowly, the fans began to spin faster. The device began to emit a gentle red glow and the low hum began to grow louder.

"Go, go, go!"

Spy looked up at the now vibrating ceiling as another squad of Blu soldiers scrambled about on the upper floor. He scowled. Such thoughtless noise, such inelegance. Maybe they would be acting differently if they knew that there was a Red Spy in their base.

Spy had managed to sneak into the base disguised as a Blu Engineer, who's job was to fortify the base against a possible Red counterattack. That had made the chunky form of the packed up teleporter on his back easier to explain, especially to some dumb heavy who wouldn't know a nut from a bolt. The real Blu Engineer was lying face down in a drainage ditch with his throat cut open. The work of a true professional.

The teleporter was now humming furiously, the gentle glow had advanced to a furious level of brightness that hurt his eyes, and sparks began to fly off in every direction.

"Engineer never seemed it relevant to mention that the device would get this loud" muttered Spy too himself, looking nervously around the room.

'If the Blue's don't manage it, I'll kill that drunk bastard myself'

"Hello?" came a voice, echoing down the maintenance stairs.

Spy froze.

Youtube Video

"Whas' goin on down there?" came the voice again. footsteps.

"Merde!" Spy's eyes flicked around the room, looking for an escape. He could disguise himself as an Engineer again, but he doubted it would be enough. Regardless of what he was wearing, if he was caught down here with that thing, he was dead.

'Damn you, you single minded fool'

More footsteps.

"What is problem?"

"I think something fishys goin' on down there"

"Ha! do not worry, little man. It is just Engineer. I let him go down earlier"

"You idiot! didn't it ever cross your mind that he might be an enemy spy?"

"He was acting a little strangely...Oh! this is bad!"

The footsteps became louder and faster, as it begun to dawn upon the defenders that their defenses had been breached.

'Come on, where are you?' Spy became more urgent, lifting boxes and throwing over tables, looking for any possible opening he could use to escape.

He had to get back and warn the team not to use the teleporter. It wasn't safe to use, not anymore. As soon as the Blu team found it they would shut it down, and if there's one thing you never do, you never, EVER enter a teleporter with no exit node. No one knows what happens, because, well, whenever someone goes through one, they are never seen again.

"The teleporter, of course! how could I be so stupid?"

"INTRUDER ALERT! RED SPY IN THE BASE!" the sharp voice of the administrator screeched as alarms rang out across the base, alerting every single mercenary assigned to it of the presence of the sharp-suited interloper.

How had he not thought of it before? While the 2 nodes were still functioning, he could use the teleporter for a quick escape.

'Maybe your hair-brained experiment has not completely gone to waste, Engineer'

BANG! The door to the staircase shuddered.

'But if he hadn't calibrated it yet, it wouldn't make any difference'

"Open this door!"

Spy ran over to the teleporter. Shielding his eyes, he searched for the small green light that would tell him if the device was synched with the one on the other side. It was like looking for a needle in a haystack, what with the light show that was the distracting side affect of Australium powered device.

BANG!

There it was! ready for operation.

'I take it all back. god bless you, my hard-hatted friend'

Spy stepped onto the device, and drew his revolver, pointing it directly at the door. He drew a cigarette from his pocket, lighting it on one of the many sparks flying round the room. If he was going to leave, he was going to leave in style. A Sudden realization popped into his head.

'What about the briefcase?'

The door burst into splinters as a Blu Heavy elbowed his way into the room. Following in his shadow was a Scout. As soon as he saw Spy, he recognized him. Not even that mask could hide his distinctive lanky physique and his sharp, matching facial features.

"YOU!"

Spy fired his revolver, hitting the Heavy squarely between his eyes, killing him instantly. He fired another shot towards the Scout, but missed as he dived behind a wooden crate.

'To hell with the briefcase'

Slowly, Spy's vision became filled with red swirls as the teleportation process began to take affect. He began to laugh uncontrollably at the thought of meeting Junior in a place like this, I supposed he always reckoned himself to be a tough guy. Once again, he had stared death in the very eyes. Once again, he had returned its gaze with a one-fingered salute.

The Scout left the relative safety of cover as he began to fire his pistol repeatedly at the de-materiaising Spy, but it was too late. The bullets just passed through him. The Scout screamed at him in frustration.

Oh! It was all coming back to him now. The Brooklyn apartment, the cheap wine, the beautiful woman.

'Ah, Mon petit chou'

And not to forget the insults and anger from the 5 year old infant who had just found out that the strange man with the strange voice had just made sweet love to his mother. He began to laugh even harder.

"Goodbye, Junior" he wheezed. He thought he was going to die of laughter

"YOU CAN'T ESCAPE ME, YOU BACKSTABBING FREAK! I'LL SMASH YOUR HEAD IN!" Screamed the scout, dropping his empty pistol to the floor. He drew a baseball bat from his back and lunged crazily at Spy, who was now almost completely surrounded by crackling red energy.

"Send my regards, to your mother!"