Law of Retribution

The good news was that Scout and Demo seemed to have given up on their pursuit. Perhaps stepping into the infirmary was a wise decision. It was as if that place was a repellent. However, Soldier still had a problem. He hated to admit it, but he was lost in the base again. Despite outside appearances, the base was large, filled with many dimly-lit hallways. He took the wrong turn and was now wandering. Soon, he came across a red sign with a white arrow pointing down a stairwell. Beside the arrow was an outline of a wrench within a circle – Engie’s class emblem. Perhaps Engie could point him to the right direction of the stairway leading to the roof. Soldier kept walking until he spotted the metal door with the same class emblem emblazoned upon it. About to walk into the workshop, he stopped himself. The last time he did that, one of Engie’s sentry bots fired missiles at him. It was a minor malfunction that never happened again, but Soldier would rather not risk respawning when there were no battles. It would be a dishonorable discharge. He knocked on the door and waited. “Come in!” Walking in, Soldier took a quick look around the workshop. The ceiling was lower than Medic’s infirmary, but higher than the RED-issued bedrooms. Tools hung neatly upon a wooden board with small hooks. Blueprints and graphing papers filled with scribbled calculations overlapped each other like a collage, taped against faded red walls. The air smelled like grease and heavy metals. There were no windows, and in a way, this room was worse than the infirmary. Not that Soldier would ever admit it aloud. Scanning the room for Engie, Soldier spotted him crouching behind a sentry bot. There he was. Taking a small step forward, Soldier tensed, waiting for the sentry bot to launch missiles at him again. When that did not happen, he relaxed, walking towards Engie. Engie stood up from his crouched position, adjusting his goggles before looking at Soldier. “Hey there, Solly. What can I do for ya?” “Where are the stairs?” Engie arched an eyebrow. “Hey now, didn’t you just come down from them?” “Not those ones! The ones that lead to the roof!” Glancing down at his sentry, Engie shook his head. “Sorry, partner. This sentry’s being a damned nuisance right now.” He then picked up his wrench from a nearby workbench. “But I bet our local firebug will be happy to help you.” Pyro? Soldier would rather not talk to them under most circumstances, but if they were the only option… “Fine. Where are they?” “Right in the boiler room. Never seen someone so happy to be in there.” Looking away, Engie crouched back down, whacking his sentry bot with his wrench. With a salute, Soldier left the workshop. He traveled further down the hallway towards the boiler room, marching to the beat of Engie whacking his sentry bot. When he arrived in front of the boiler room, he noticed the rusty door decorated with glittery unicorn stickers and detailed acrylic paintings of the BLU Spy on fire. Pyro must have decorated the door. Soldier doubted he would ever understand their way of thinking. Still, he could appreciate the amount of effort behind the vivid painting. It fueled him with the desire to target the BLU Spy during his next mission. He knocked on the door, then waited for a response. Pyro opened the door right away, sticking their masked face into Soldier’s personal space. Soldier stumbled backwards, dropping his riding crop. Then, when he recovered, he stood up straight and crossed his arms. “Look here, firebug! I’ve been on a goose chase all day, and I need you to guide me up the stairs. The one to the roof, not the one I just came from. Do I make myself clear, private?” Giving a thumbs-up, Pyro mumbled a response. It was too bad the gas mask filtered out the more important parts of verbal replies, leaving only mumbles behind. However, Pyro refused to take their mask off. They waved their flamethrower at anyone who made any attempts. Soldier knew from personal experience. He remembered that day. It was hard to forget what happened when his hand still had burn scars that respawning could not heal. After all, respawning only restored someone to their previous state, and Soldier had not yet been registered in the respawn system on the first day. The scars were a reminder of how dangerous the Pyro could be, should Soldier ever forget what he witnessed during battles. It was not the best first impression anyone ever gave him, but he had worse. None of the maggots on this team were even close to the worst first impression he ever had. Still, Soldier liked to keep an arm’s length between himself and Pyro. Pyro exited the boiler room, shutting the door. They proceeded to skip ahead of Soldier. After picking up his riding crop, Soldier followed them. After fifteen minutes, Pyro gestured towards a stairway, making jazz hands. It seemed as if they were mumbling, “Ta-dah!” Soldier looked to the side. “Thank you for your services, private.” Then, he bolted up the stairs. Within seconds, he saw the door leading to the roof. He kicked it open. The door swung aside, allowing him to exit on to the rooftop. Just as Medic guessed, Sniper was up here. He was facing the direction of the door, sitting down on a folding chair. He was cleaning the chamber of his sniping rifle with a rag. On a nearby wooden crate, Soldier could see the other disassembled parts of the sniping rifle. As he often used a rocket launcher and a shotgun, some of these parts were unfamiliar to him. However, the sniping rifle was still a firearm, and he did recognize a few parts. He recognized the magazine, the barrel, and the receiver scattered across the crate. He also saw a cartridge of ammunition, a toothbrush, a spray bottle of solvent, and a kukri knife. Sniper’s shoulders were relaxed, his slouch hat and aviators resting near his feet. Instead of wearing his usual frown, he wore a small smile. Soldier could not recall a time when he saw Sniper this content. He almost felt guilty for interrupting his peace. Almost. He had to continue this team-building project. Tensing his shoulders, Sniper looked up from his cleaning. “Can I help you, mate?” Gripping his riding crop with both hands, Soldier said, “I am going to push you off the roof now.” Under most circumstances, Soldier would tackle Sniper without thought or warning. However, that was a horrible battle tactic. Even though Soldier knew Sniper would have a difficult time defending himself. It was not because a rare feeling within his gut – certainly not guilt – told him that tackling Sniper right away would ruin any hopes of team-building. Sniper swapped the rag and chamber for his kukri knife. He stood up and took a fighting stance, his knees slightly bent. Soldier mirrored Sniper’s stance. A kukri knife may be a more conventional weapon than a riding crop, but it was a risk he was willing to take. He was not a coward! “Really?” Sniper grinned. “Let’s have a go at it!” “Prepare to have your organs shipped back to Australia in a soup can!” Another challenge began.