Law of Retribution

With a riding crop in hand, Soldier paced in front of the small boot camp he made for himself. His collection of decapitated BLU heads was situated upon a nearby wooden fence, lined up like new recruits. For some unknown reason, his teammates avoided this area, especially when he mentioned having a training session. It was convenient, as Soldier needed a place to get away from everyone else sometimes. Living with the RED mercenaries and their odd quirks could be grating, even for a seasoned veteran like him. As he tried to think, Soldier gritted his teeth and quickened his pace. Three days passed since Soldier accepted Sniper’s challenge. He still had no idea what to do, and considering he participated in tougher challenges in the past, it was embarrassing. However, he did manage to consider a few tactics. It was possible for Soldier to sneak up on Sniper in the midst of an intense battle. However, that idea struck Soldier as cowardly. That was a Spy’s job, and he was no Spy. In addition, distracting Sniper may lead to a great loss for the RED team. Sniper would never speak to Soldier again, which would be detrimental to his team-building project. Since this was the most substantial interaction he had with Sniper so far, Soldier wanted to win this challenge. However, he did not want to sabotage his own team in the process. What was he supposed to do now? “Argh!” Soldier swung his riding crop and whipped one of the heads on the fence. For good measure, he also kicked a nearby metal bucket. The bucket ricocheted off the fence and hit him in the face. He stumbled backwards, feeling dizzy. Spots dotted his vision, making him nauseous. Soldier shook his head until the spots disappeared. However, he now had a headache. This must be a sign to take a break. Too much thinking could only lead to increased frustration and accidents. It was a wonder how Medic and Engie managed to think for hours on a daily basis. Soldier marched back to the base for a tactical retreat. While marching, he decided to search for Sniper. Maybe he would get a more concrete idea if he found him first. He was unable to spend time with him again, as Sniper did his best to avoid the Soldier outside of battle. It was clear he still remembered the challenge. To cut down on time, a teleporter would make it easier for Soldier to track down the Sniper. One of the closest teleporters Soldier could think of was in the garage, which should be on the other side of the base. However, all entryways of the garage had a passcode, which made Soldier’s task more difficult. Ever since an accident involving a cactus, raccoons, and an undercover RED van losing half of its wheels, the rest of the RED team made the democratic decision to change the passcode. They also made the decision to not tell the Soldier of the new passcode. Whenever Soldier needed to visit the garage, Engie or Heavy needed to accompany him. Soldier thought they were all a bunch of wimps. They should know he needed no babysitters, despite what Heavy said. He would have to find a new way of reaching the teleporter. Entering through the back door of the base, Soldier arrived in the decoy hallway. The hallway led to a dead end, acting as a trap for infiltrators. Numerous fake doors lined the hallway, serving as distractions. Only one door led inside the base.  Having reached the middle of the hallway, Soldier knocked on the only door with a rusty handle. He hoped there was a teammate on the other side, or else he would have to walk all the way to the front entrance. He could not afford to waste any more time! To his relief, the door opened to reveal the Demo bracing himself against the doorframe. “Awrite, Solly!” Demo waved, holding a whisky bottle. “What are ye up to?” “I am going to the garage teleporter!” Demo stood straighter, as if taking a defensive stance. “Ye cannae do that without supervision, lad. Not after the raccoon incident.” He looked to the side and grimaced. “Why do ye need to go there?” “I’m on a highly important mission!” For emphasis, Soldier waved his riding crop. Demo’s impromptu interrogation was a distraction. “I’m walking there now.” Demo held up a hand. His heavy Scottish accent laced with incredulity, he said, “Does that ‘mission’ have anything to do with that cursed screaming last night?” “Yes! Well, no!” Soldier shook his head. “If I tell you about it, will you stop with this interrogation?” Demo nodded, swirling his bottle of whisky. He looked ready to chug down the entire bottle in case Soldier’s response was too outlandish. Soldier had no idea how to phrase his reply in a more tactful manner. It was best to be simple and blunt. “I need to push Sniper off a roof.” Then, he tried to squeeze past Demo’s broad frame. “I will go do that now.” Demo gripped Soldier’s shoulders, halting him. “Nae, ye humdinger! We’ve all known each other for only a few months, and who knows what Sniper would do to ye? I cannae stand by and leave my best mate to his doom. Even with the respawn system running.” The concern was touching, but Soldier knew his actions would be for the greater good of the team. Damn whatever consequences should befall him! “I am just returning the favour!” Soldier stomped on Demo’s foot, then tackled him in the shoulder. “American style!” Demo’s eye widened as he staggered backwards, no longer blocking the doorway. Soldier sprinted, passing the Demo. However, even at full-speed, he was still slow. Looking behind him, he saw that Demo was already recovering. Soldier needed a distraction. At that moment, Scout walked out of the inventory room, carrying his aluminum baseball bat on his shoulder. He looked as if he were heading outdoors for batting practice. Unfortunately for him, his plans would have to change. With Demo pursuing him and the Scout in front of him, there was only one logical action that Soldier could take. When Scout was within reaching range, Soldier whipped him in the shoulder with his riding crop. Dropping his baseball bat, Scout rubbed his shoulder. “Ow! Sols, what’s your freaking problem-” There was no time. Demo was already right behind him. Soldier grabbed Scout by the shoulders and shoved him towards Demo. Although Soldier did not look back, he heard Scout screaming as he collided with Demo, knocking them down to the floor. The stream of curses and confused yells that followed fueled Soldier to keep running. When he arrived at the heart of the base, he reached the white door with the outline of a medical cross within a circle – the Medic’s class emblem.  It meant he was now at the infirmary. With nowhere else to go and with the certainty that Scout and Demo would never follow him in here, Soldier entered the infirmary. Pushing past the door, Soldier stumbled into the cold room. The smell of blood and bird droppings was overwhelming, making him want to vomit. To distract himself, he stared at the high ceiling, where white doves roosted upon the rafters. When he adjusted to the smell, he looked around. This infirmary was large enough to contain three beds, various medical apparatus, an operating table and a Medi Gun hung from the ceiling. The only saving grace of this room were the windows, even if some of them were cracked. Upon the operating table was Heavy, bathing under the healing red light of the Medi Gun. He held his ribcage apart, exposing his internal organs to the dusty atmosphere. He was looking up at the Medic with a tilt of his head. Medic was looking down, poking through Heavy’s organs with a butterfly knife stolen from Spy’s knife collection. He was humming a cheerful tune, muttering a few German words.  While he never attended medical school – or any type of post-secondary education – Soldier was certain this was not standard medical procedure. Then again, none of the mercenaries adhered to any type of standard procedures. What did it matter, so long the Medic healed them? Although, it did not mean the Soldier would like to spend time with the Medic. He already had nightmares of that man. However, he knew he needed to eventually try bonding with him. For the sake of securing the team’s victory. He suppressed a shudder. Soldier had to applaud Heavy for being the willing test subject for Medic’s curiosities. After all, if he had refused, the ÜberCharge would have never existed. The RED team would have been suffering a terrible losing streak against those BLU team maggots. It would have been humiliating. Another positive effect of Heavy being the willing test subject for the Medic was that the Medic was less active in his efforts to perform surgeries on the rest of the RED team. It was a striking difference from his actions during the first week at work. Although, the Medic did still make efforts to sought out other test subjects. So far, nobody else agreed. “Herr Soldier, unless you are bleeding to death, please get out.” The Medic did not look at him, but he did pick up his bonesaw, pointing it at Soldier's direction. “That or stay silent.” He then  looked up at the Soldier, flashing an unnerving grin. “Unless you’re interested in seeing our dear Heavy Weapons Guy explode?” Heavy frowned. “Doctor, you promised!” Medic shrugged. “It would only happen if Herr Soldier decides to be a dummkopf.” He looked down at Heavy with a look that was almost tender. “You do not think I would purposefully make you explode, do you?” Heavy made the wise decision to say nothing. However, his frown lessened. “Good! All possible explosions are very unlikely to happen, in any case. So long the Übervalve in your heart is still working, yes?” Heavy nodded. “Doctor did good work on those.” “Of course.” Soldier shuddered, holding tight to his riding crop. He no longer wanted to be in the infirmary. He would rather take his chances with an angry Scout-Demo pair possibly finding him. He started to walk backwards to the exit, then stopped. Of course, why did he only think to ask now? “You maggots know where Sniper would be?” Medic stared back. “Why do you expect me to know?” Then, he paused, as if remembering something. “Although, knowing the gunman, he’s probably up on the roof.” This was too perfect. Soldier chuckled in a way that was reserved for BLU mercenaries and enemies of America. It was Heavy’s turn to stare at him. “Why does little man want to know?” “I need to push him off that roof.” Heavy and Medic kept staring at him at a more intense level. Although Soldier was unable to read their facial expressions, he felt the heavy weight of judgement. The faint humming of the Medi Gun accompanied the soft coos of Medic’s doves. Looking back down at Heavy’s ribcage, Medic said, “Alright.” Once the Medic returned his attention back to him, Heavy also looked back into his ribcage. Perhaps it was a side-effect of being a mercenary for RED. With the constant shenanigans occurring in their everyday lives, it would be useless to care about a possibly homicidal teammate. So long respawn was running and the homicidal tendencies were not targeted at them, there was no cause for concern. Soldier proceeded to sprint back out of the infirmary. As he ran down the hallway, he heard the Medic yell, “Whatever happens, don’t expect me to heal you, dummkopf!”