Overwatch
From Goggleheadarchive
Allrevan, the city on the eastern border of Riscana and the western border of Leyandra falls under the classification of no man’s land. It’s a contested city that changes hands of ownership every few hundred years to the point that whether you say ‘Allrevan, Riscana’ or ‘Allrevan, Leyandra’, it didn’t really matter. During a time of peace though, both flags flew high from house to house, during times of war, all flags are torn down.
It’s amazing to read about a city such as this whose people normally get along in their everyday lives just degrade to bitter enemies the moment the banners of war rise. It’s nothing personal, rookie soldiers say as they kill strangers and sometimes even former friends, but if there’s something I’ve learned from my experiences; is that it becomes personal the moment you pull that trigger and take someone’s life. The dead never forget who kill them, and you never forget who you kill. Sure, war has not happened in this generation, and I hope that it continues to be peaceful, but the reality of the matter is that the thin threads of peace are not dictated by the people; but by their governments and those willing to get their hands dirty to keep other hands clean.
I arrived here at four hundred hours this morning thanks to my associate and checked into a middle class hotel as one George Miller, a worker for a dummy corporation called ‘Blackwater’. By five hundred hours, I was on the roof of the hotel, using my binoculars to scout the immediate area as I reviewed the mission data. By six hundred hours, I was in disguise and out on foot. The disguise was a simple one; a hoodie and slacks, much like the common teenager and young adult wore at this time of year. By seven hundred hours, I was in position. The target is a man under the alias of ‘Smith Raphael’. I remember reading a file on him when I was part of Task Force 845, until last year. Wanted for acts of treason against Riscana, and acts of extremism, this guy is a religious nut who believes he was put on this earth to wipe out anyone his god believes are lesser beings. He’s been generally untraceable for years, but according to intel that the Riscana Army Rangers received recently, he is supposed to be making a move here in Allrevan.
So, why am I here, and not the army? Like I said before, peace is not dictated by the people; but by their governments and those willing to get their hands dirty. Bounty Hunters like the Phantom Moirae Company are there to make a profit on the wars that the governments cannot, or will not fight.
Since Allrevan is a city with both elves and humans, for an army from either side to stage an assault to capture the bastard would be bad for politics. One side accuses the other of invasion, the first side denies it, things would just spiral downward, and the banner of war is raised. Furthermore, from a strategic standpoint, if a militia were to stage an assault to capture, there is an almost certain chance at panic from civilians which can lead to both friendlies and civvies becoming wounded unnecessarily. The most strategically sound plan is to send a single person to take down the target, while keeping civilian interaction as limited as possible. Furthermore, by making the single unit a neutral such as a bounty hunter, the government keeps their noses clean, regardless to whether I succeed or screw up.
The time is now eighteen hundred hours in the evening when I finally see the target. He is a handsome gentleman, brown hair, blue eyes, and black suit with a silver metallic briefcase in hand. He looks like a true business type, but looks can be deceiving. The operation was simple on paper. Shadow the target, take him down, recover the briefcase and gather proof of terrorist activities. The challenge is that since this is a neutral city, I have to complete the operation without the use of any weapons so as to not gather any unwanted attention. I exit the alley and slip into the crowd. “This is Marshall. I’m shadowing the target now, radio silence is go.” I murmur quietly into the headset microphone before I shut off the device and shove both hands in my pockets.
The man doesn’t seem to notice me as he walks along the promenade. It’s a high end part of the city that’s directly in the center, so it’s not peculiar to see humans or elves of all social standings there. The rich just often ignore the poor, and the poor often mock the rich, and all are blissfully unaware of the battles that take place beneath their eyes. In fact, the people are so concerned with their own lives that no one seems to notice as the target breaks off from the pack and slips into an alley. I silently break away from the crowd and slip into the alleyway as well. I hide behind a dumpster and peek around it to see the man opening the briefcase to reveal what looks to be explosive putty and wires sticking out of it. I flip on my commlink and whisper “Moirae 1 to Phantom; situation has changed. Target has an IED (Improvised Explosive Device). I repeat; target has an IED. If I don’t respond in ten minutes, proceed with evacuation pattern delta. Make sure the civilians are led to safety.” I glance again to notice the target is busy doing something with the briefcase.
I stay crouched and creep my way toward the target in silence. When he’s in reach of me, I quickly bring an arm around his neck and pull him into a sleeper hold. The enemy struggles in my grip, but I tighten my arm like a vice grip. His motions slow down and I keep the pressure on. He wildly swings his arm at me and sensing danger, I force him away from me quickly. I shift my weight to enter a fighting stance, and a sharp pain fills my side. I don’t need to look at my side to know that I am bleeding from a gash on my side; I can see the bloodied knife in his hand.
My eyes lock with my enemy’s, and all I can see is a blind desire fuelling him and nothing else, I know experience wise, I am light years ahead of him. I keep my eyes locked with Smith Raphael and watch him. He gives a sickeningly bright smile and asks “Why do you fight me? You’re a human, one of my divine one’s chosen people! You should embrace our lord’s love and glory.”
I answer him by punching at his face. He quickly shifts to the right, but I redirect my fist to hit him in the shoulder and make him stumble. He growls lightly and lunges at me with his weapon. I ignore the pain in my side and shift my weight onto my hips. With a quick pivot and arm snap, I grab onto the hostile’s arm and flip him over my body. I pivot my body as my arms move and slam Smith Raphael to the ground.
He wildly swings his dagger at my leg and I move my leg into the attack. As I feel the dagger tear through the pant leg and across my flesh, I bite my lip and slam my foot down as hard as I can at his throat. The target raises his free arm and blocks my attack before trying to stab my leg once more. A desperate move, but a smart move nonetheless. Taking out my vertical base would possibly even the field for him.
I quickly bring up my boot and block the oncoming knife attack before stepping back to catch my balance. Ralph quickly gets to his feet and laughs at me. “You fool! I’ve already set the bomb! You’re running out of time before it goes off, taking the promenade with it! It will start a holy war of the likes which you have never even imagined!” Raphael taunts me, and I know he isn’t bluffing. I drop to the ground and sweep my legs across the ground at his, but he jumps over them with ease as he lunges for my face. I allow a smirk to play on my lips as I stop my legs and bring up my arm into Raphael’s wrist, deflecting his dagger arm. I grab hold of his deflected wrist and use his momentum to slam him into the ground beside me.
The dust settles and Raphael is grinning lightly. He brings his free hand toward my chest and I move my hand in to deflect his attack. His arm is just a little bit faster as the dagger pierces through my palm. I bite my lip and slam my forehead against his roughly. Finally, with a last gasp, Raphael falls limp on the ground.
I pull the dagger from my hand and check his pulse. He’s only unconscious. Main objective cleared, two to go. I turn to face the briefcase bomb and am greeted with the grinning face of one Connor Murphy who is dressed like a paramedic. “I figured you could use some help disarming the IED.” He says as he holds a wire in his fingertips. “I can see why, too. She’s a beauty in regards to these sorts of things. As it stands, the bomb is disabled.” I nod and turn to the body of the fallen enemy. “Cole and I will extract the target; you return to the hotel and get your stuff. We’ll meet you outside of Allrevan in one hour to head to the rendezvous point.” Cole takes out some bandages and tosses them to me.
“Acknowledged, thanks” I answer and start wrapping up my wounds. “Hey, Connor, did they explain why they wanted this bogey alive?”
“Less bad blood to clean up with the locals, I presume.” Connor answered as he picked up the unconscious body. “You think something isn’t right with this.” He stated when I didn’t answer him right away.
“Call it a bad feeling.” I say thoughtfully before I turn to leave. “Never mind it, extraction orders are go, meet you on the outside.” I leave the alley and slip back into the crowd as the sky is darker now. By nineteen thirty, I am back at the hotel and changed into my second disguise; a black suit. By twenty hundred hours, George Miller’s identification is destroyed and any record of his existence is deleted from the hotel’s database, via computer skills of Connor Murphy. By twenty thirty, thanks to Cole Murphy, I am extracted not far outside of Allrevan. Twenty three hundred hours, the package is delivered to the Riscana Army Rangers and we receive a credstick for ten thousand Ts. They don’t see my face behind the mask I wear. By two hundred hours, we are back on Phantom Moirae and disappearing into the sea.
Peace is not dictated by the people who want it, no matter how hard they try to control it; power is still left to their governments and the people willing to get their hands dirty. Like an overwatch, bounty hunters can provide the distraction fire needed to keep peace alive during the rough times. End Mission Log
Operation: Overwatch
Mission Complete
(Note: Overwatch: Essentially, a soldier giving any form of covering fire for another soldier.)
