Overwatch: The Lost Soldier

Author's Note: First off, I need to say this, just so I don't tread on anyones toes; Overwatch, and all characters affiliated, are copyrights of Blizzard Entertainment and no copyright infringement is intended for this story. All rights belong to Blizzard Entertainment and this story is strictly a fan-fiction, meant for entertainment purposes only.

Now that that's out of the way, I thought I'd share a few things. This story has been tumbling around in my head for the last couple of weeks and I decided to finally craft it. Though it's not my normal cup of tea, I decided to write this because firstly, I'm an Overwatch fan and secondly, the whole idea was just too cool to let it die.

Just so people are aware, this is a no sex fan fiction, about a character that does not officially exist in the Overwatch universe. Though, when I wrote this, I did with full respect for the canon, as a means of creating a story that people could believe would exist in the game. If it did become reality and was put in the game, well, I think that would be awesome. Just thought I'd put that out there. Without further ado or speculation, let it begin.....

The transport ship soared through the cold Canadian air, its engines roaring with power. Lena Oxton, piloted the ship as it returned to home base, the crew having completed their mission. She chanced a look back, to see how her companions were faring on the long flight home.

Sitting in one of the built in benches that lined the transport's walls, was Jack Morrison, a.k.a. Soldier 76. His mask was off at the moment and he was currently leaning against the bulkhead, with his eyes closed, deep in thought. A couple of meters further back, sat Alexandra Zaryanova, whom everyone called Zarya. The brawny woman was busy tuning her Particle Cannon, making sure that it was still ready to fire when needed.

Opposite them, stood Mei-Ling Zhou, the very reason that they had gone up to North Pole in the first place. Despite being nearly forty years old, she didn't look a day over thirty-one. Tracer supposed that being frozen in cryo sleep for nine years would do that to you. She was busy fussing over one of the tablets she had brought, going over the climate readings that she'd taken.

For some unknown reason, the climate of the planet had been changing at an accelerated rate, and no one knew why. Mei had been chasing these abnormalities and anomalies since she woke up. She had made it her life goal, to find out why exactly these things were happening. Jack and Zarya had gone along with her on this mission, to ensure that there weren't any unexpected surprises up there.

Thankfully, the mission had been a success and everything had gone off without a hitch. Lena maintained her focus on her flightpath, the Canadian government granting them a flightpath though their airspace. Despite the Petras Act's political ramifications, they were granted safe passage though. Jack and much of the old guard from Overwatch, had some friends in high places and pulled some strings. As long as no weapons were being fired, the government would turn a blind eye to their presence.

"Come in, Snowhawk One, this is Hawk Nest. Snowhawk One, come in please," came Winston's voice over the comms line. The peppy British woman started in surprise, as it was unusual for any sort of contact to be happening when they were still so far out. Lena answered the call, flipping the switch, putting the call through to her cockpit.

"Snowhawk One here. I read you Hawk Nest. What's the trouble?" Tracer responded, as the holographic image of the intelligent ape, flared to life on her right. When anyone saw the Winston for the first time, they often thought of him as some sort of oddball gimmick gone wrong. Most people would be wrong in that assumption though, as he often would have a kindly disposition. He also possessed a great love for humanity and his friends, which was echoed in his actions. Though he was a kind being at heart, few would dare cross him intentionally, as his exploits in Overwatch were well documented.

"We just got some new information from a reliable source. There's a former Overwatch agent near your current position. Going on the intel we recently acquired, it seems like Talon is after him," Winston stated, his gentle face quite serious.

"Another agent? Who?"

"Michael Perun, a former JTF2 operative. He was recruited quite some years ago. Official records say that he's dead, but we've received documented proof that he's still alive," Winston replied. Moments later, an information packet was uploaded to the transport, the onboard computer pinging when the upload completed.

Lena set the autopilot and then brought up the file. Sergeant Perun had been a busy man when he served in the JTF2, even more so after he had joined Overwatch. With more than a dozen commendations for bravery from the Canadian military, he was the very exemplar of a good soldier. He had saved his team on more than on occasion, always managing to find ways out of impossible situations. He often cited that it was his instincts, that had gotten them out of scrapes that should have seen his whole unit K.I.A.

Lena zoomed in on his picture, getting a good look at the man. The large man would have been the poster boy for recruitment, if his operations hadn't been so secret. The soldier stood at six foot three, weighing in at two hundred and thirty-five pounds of solid muscle. His solid jaw line and high cheekbones was indicative of his Euro-Slavic ancestry. He had a wide frame, brown hair and brown eyes, which seemed to twinkle with a sense of mischief.

Cycling through the photos, she found the more recent ones that had been taken and she did a comparison. The newer photos showed a man who was well into his thirties, a few pounds heavier, with some gray at his temples and a hardened look about him. After a brief computer scan comparison, the match correlation was over ninety-six percent. The man in the photos was indeed, Michael Perun.

"I remember him," Jack said from behind Lena, as he leaned over her right shoulder to get a better look at the image. "A good man and an outstanding soldier. He was transferred to Blackwatch, as a means of putting his skill set to good use."

"I don't think I've ever met him," Tracer said, scrutinizing the image.

"Few people did. He was a very private man, played things close to the vest. He was every bit as boisterous as Reinhardt though, when he had a few drinks and loosened up," Jack said, his brown eyes looking over the newer images. "Are you sure the source is reliable?"

"It is. The intel came from the Olive Branch," Winston clarified, making Jack and Lena's eyes widen. The Olive Branch, was an online personality, or personalities, but no one truly knew. They had offered the reformed Overwatch group much needed intel from time to time. Though the price he/she/they asked was sometimes steep, the information was usually spot on the nose and invaluable to them.

"What's the price tag?" the white haired soldier asked, his face already wincing at what they may have asked for.

"That's the only real oddity about this piece of intel. They offered it to us, for free."

"What?!?" Lena responded incredulously. Jack's face was equally stunned and bewildered, as hers. It was practically unheard of for the Olive Branch to offer such information for no cost.

"Did they give any reason why?" Jack continued.

"None, but they did say that Talon is likely to have their boots on the ground shortly, if they don't already," the kindly ape said worriedly. Nodding, Jack turned back to see if either Mei or Zarya had heard. Seeing them standing behind him, it was evident that they had. Jack opened his mouth to speak, but the Russian woman beat him to it.

"He is a soldier who could help us rebuild and a man who will need our help. Never leave a fallen comrade behind," the big woman stated as she offered her hand to the battle scarred American. Reaching out, he clasped her arm, as one soldier to another. He looked over to the Chinese climatologist and though she seemed nervous, there was also the look of determination on her face.

"I may not be able to help much, but I will do what I can in order to help out. Overwatch needs to rebuild, if there's ever going to be any chance of hope for this world," Mei said ominously. Her little droid, Snowball, chirped an affirmative, fully behind his friend.

"Send us the co-ordinates Winston. Though it may cause trouble, we need to get there before Talon does. They've been too far ahead of us by half. It's past time that we finally pulled ahead," Lena said, her resolve solidifying.

"Co-ordinates sent. Good luck Snowhawk One. Hawk Nest out," Winston replied before he cut the transmission.

*******************************

Snow kicked up from the sleek, ethereal looking transport as it touched down in a remote area of the Canadian Rockies. The jets were still gushing out hot exhaust when the rear loading hatch opened, slamming the ramp into the frosty landscape with a crunch. Heavy armored boots clunked down the ramp, as the black figure took in the snowy forest around him.

Though he didn't need it here, Reaper still preferred to wear his mask, rather than not. It also helped that it kept him warm, as he wasn't one for this climate. He was used to sunnier venues whenever he was out in the field, but he didn't complain. No one ever heard the man, who had once been Gabriel Reyes, complain. Since his change, he had become a shadow of what he once was. Some people called him a demon, though it never seemed to bother him.

Further up the ramp, the clicking of three different sets of feet sounded, each one far smaller than Reaper's. He sighed wearily, as all three women lined up behind him, each one in their usual tactical stance, with some added cold weather gear.

The first woman, who stood to his right was Amelie Lacroix, a gorgeous woman who went by the callsign, Widowmaker. Her skin was a cold, ice blue, but not nearly as cold as her golden eyes, which shone in the late day sun. Widowmaker's black hair, which normally hung in a loose ponytail, was done up in a bun this time, primarily to keep it out of her face. Her sniper rifle/assault rifle weapon of choice, Widow's Kiss, lay comfortably in her grip as she surveyed the area for any threats.

Moira O'Deorain, was a modest looking ginger haired woman, who no one would have picked out of a crowd. Were it not for the metal plate that gleamed on the left side of her face, she would have been unnoticeable. A brilliant geneticist in her own right, it was her advancements in genetic research, that gave Reaper the abilities that he possessed today. Though she tried to look cold and disinterested, she was as giddy as a school girl, as the mission they were on was one of great interest to the disgraced scientist.

The third operative who joined them was not one that the black clad team leader would have chosen, but orders from Doomfist cemented her position on this op. The violet eyed woman, known to him only as Sombra, shivered at the cold. She danced about in the cold weather to keep warm, clearly not used to the frigid atmosphere. Falling snowflakes peppered her purple and brown crest of hair, that she kept flipped to her right side, framing her beautiful face.

Ever since he came back from the failed attack on Volskaya Industries, he was distrustful of the woman. Reaper was of the opinion that Sombra actually had their target at her mercy, but he couldn't prove it. He kept his suspicions to himself, as the enigmatic hacker had proven to be of great use before.

Despite what anyone else said about the Hispanic woman, he kept a close eye on her. If she made another questionable move, Reaper would get to the bottom of it and nail her. He hated working with wild cards, but was left with little choice, as Talon's hackers couldn't hope to match her skill level.

"Are you certain that they are here?" Moira queried, her enthusiasm apparent.

"Chica, I told you before and I'll tell you again, I made absolutely sure that they're here. You know how it was. Both Vince and Mike were part of Blackwatch under Senor Muerte here," she said, jerking her thumb at the foreboding team leader. Reaper sighed in annoyance, but Sombra only laughed, enjoying her teasing of the cowled man. "So it would only make sense for the two of them to stick together after things went all Ka-boom!"

To punctuate her point, Sombra then up loaded the digital photos that she had managed to procure and showed them to the rest of team via her digital display. First was several of Michael, out and about in a nearby town procuring supplies. The others were of some sort of feral man, who looked to be part animal, which Moira knew was Vincent McCready.

"As long as you're certain. Well Gabriel, shall we get moving?"

"My name," the name in black growled out dangerously, "is Reaper!" He then drew and cocked his shotguns, loading and readying them, making his position to the rest of them known.

"Right. Of course. After you good sir," Moira gestured with her arm, doing her level best not to mock the man. He had an axe to grind and wasn't shy about using it on anyone who pushed him too far. He gestured for both Moira and Sombra to fall in behind him.

"Widow, head to your vantage point. We need to draw them out," Gabe ordered Amelie. Nodding, the assassin melted into the forest, silently moving towards her destination. The Talon strike team, then moved through the trees, silent as wraiths, fully intent to get the drop on their targets.

*******************************

Moira couldn't believe that two other men, both of who volunteered for her experiments during their time in Blackwatch, were still alive. Though, truth be told, she was only interested in Vincent McCready, as he was the only one who was classified as a success. The lean, ebon haired soldier was the only one in which Moira had managed to make significant changes to the human genome. It mimicked the very experiments that were done to both Gabriel and Reyes and Jack Morrison.

Though the initiative was highly controversial, the super soldier program was responsible for producing the two former friends, into such outstanding specimens. The both of them were faster, stronger, more durable and resilient than the average human being. She had hoped that her tests on Sergeant Perun would have worked, but it turned out to be a dud, the serum having no discernable effect on him, aside from killing him. She wondered how it was that the man was still alive, but that would be a question that would soon be answered.

When Moira had used the procedure on Lieutenant McCready, there were several notable differences that had indicated that it worked. The once narrow man had started to fill out, adding heavily corded muscle to his frame in virtually no time at all. His abilities and enhancements were all reminiscent of Reaper, before his change. The only drawback was how he seemed less inclined to take orders and had a more..... feral disposition than most people.

Since the attack that had destroyed the Overwatch headquarters, nearly all of her research results and notes were lost. Though she retained most of them in her head, having her notes and results mattered, if Moira hoped to successfully duplicate her experiments. Shaking her head from the past, the ginger haired woman focused on the present, picking her way behind Reaper and ahead of Sombra, doing what she could to maintain silence.

*******************************

Amelie Lacroix picked her way through the dense forest, her vantage point just ahead of her by five hundred meters. Though she had maintained her façade to the rest of the team, she remembered a few things from her past life. Things that came from the time before she became Widowmaker. Things that her husband, Gerard had told her, about Overwatch's newest recruit.

"You should have seen this man Amelie! He fought with a sheer ferocity that I have never seen before!" Gerard exclaimed, going over what he had seen that day. He had just walked into their apartment and after greeting his dear wife, he launched into the first thing on his mind. Literally, the only thing on his mind that day.

"So the man can fight? That's always a good thing, if he hopes to fit in with Overwatch," she had mused disinterestedly, sipping a glass of wine. Fixing his wife with a look, the dark haired man knew that the next few words would certainly catch her attention.

"He beat down Reinhardt."

Head snapping to stare at her husband, Amelie's eyes nearly fell out of their sockets.

"H-h-how-w???"

Shaking his head, Gerard replied simply. "I honestly don't know Cheri. It's almost as though the man refused to be beaten by anyone. It was like the force of his will was beyond that of even Commander Morrison."

Amelie couldn't help but gape at what she had heard. Someone with the strength and fortitude to put down Reinhardt was rare. The amount of willpower that he possessed must have been staggering.

"What is his name?" she asked her love.

"Michael Perun. He's a Canadian man, though truth be told, I didn't know that they made them that tough out there," Gerard replied, still shaking his head in wonder.

"I suppose that great things will come of this man, considering the kind of men that are now his mentors," Amelia said warmly, fixing her husband with a loving look.

The memory had surfaced upon hearing that name and she shuddered. She had gone over every personnel docket after the dissolution of Overwatch, and was relieved that this man had been counted among the dead. Facing a man that her dead husband had found to be fearsome was not something she relished.

Clearing her mind with an angry shake of her head, Amelie brought herself back to the present moment. She had reached her sniper perch and though she should have gotten down into position, she couldn't help but admire the view.

Tall pine trees dotted the shores of a now frozen river, every one of the laden with heavy snow. Mountains provided a solid backdrop against the clear blue sky, while the wind whipped some small gusts of snow about. What appeared to be a small waterfall, was frozen over and its crystalline beauty was easy to appreciate. Widowmaker could hear the near silent movement of animals moving nearby, but not a one chittered noisily.

"So peaceful," she mused to herself as she dropped into position. As she adjusted herself to lay down comfortably, she understood the idea why anyone would want to live out here. The peace and tranquility was like a balm, one she had not fully understood, until today.

Shifting her focus back to the mission, Amelie looked through her scope. After adjusting for the glare of the sun, she caught sight of her team, making their way across the ice. Reaper stood at point position, with both Sombra and Moira flanking him, as they moved. Her ears pricked up at another sound that was carried on the wind. It sounded like....an aircraft of some sort.

Quickly, she looked about, searching for its source. Eyes shot skyward and she did indeed spot a plane. It was one of those passenger liners, no doubt on its way to Vancouver or some other city within reach. Shaking her head, she mentally chastised herself for allowing paranoia get the better of her. Amelie Lacroix was unaware though, that the very thing she had feared, was actually happening.

*******************************

Tracer had flown low, barely skimming the treetops in stealth mode, in the hope that the transport wouldn't be detected. She had put them down, approximately two kilometers away from the GPS co-ordinates. As far as the whole team was concerned, there was no need to alert Talon to their presence, or spook the man that they had come to retrieve.