In Loving Memory

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Agent 47 watched the funeral proceed via binoculars from his second-floor apartment. Hours passed, but there were no signs of Ana or Overwatch. The hitman waited as the day fell to night, and those related to Pharah hesitantly left.

Some workers picked up the coffin, loading it into a truck and forcing 47 to follow. He packed his sniper rifle into a black suitcase, speeding out the door faster than the receptionist could question.

They brought Pharah to a cemetery, entering the funeral home and out of 47's sight. He located a nearby building to stake out from, taking the room and unloading his sniper rifle once more.

Two hours passed, the street lights all went out in, and he saw it. In the dark of the night, several silhouettes walked around the surrounding buildings and out of alleyways. In the dark windows of the other buildings, snipers positioned themselves overlooking the graveyard, marked by red dots, being their laser sight. Vehicles drove steadily in the darkness as if trying to creep.

Some of the cars stopped at the entrance, and someone with four guards got out. The person in the middle looked around, her mask's visor glowing blue with the logo of Shrike, confirming Ana's identity.

Agent 47 lowered the sniper rifle, disassembling it into the briefcase. Finding his Silverballers and fiber wire, he left the building.

"Hello, 47. If you are hearing this message, then Ana has appeared at one of the two locations. The mission is fairly straightforward: extract as much information as possible, such as their main base of operations, and then eliminate the target. Good hunting."

...

Ana chose to wear her Shrike costume that night. As she left the vehicle, the four fully armored and geared soldiers stuck to her like mashed potatoes and corn kernels. She looked back at the empty apartment building, looking for anyone who may be awake at this hour. All the rooms were pitch black, though, and she continued her march to the grave.

At the other entrances, the separate squads marked their surroundings. They had their weapons raised at all times, fingers forever on the trigger. They put on night vision alongside a thermal vision.

"Morrison to all units. Follow the advanced protocol. Keep close and report the smallest of suspicions you get. Protect Ana at all costs, never leave her side. That is all." From the makeshift command center, an abandoned building far from the cemetery, Soldier 76 and some agents watched through the cameras they had set up in the graveyard.

Soldier 76 tapped into Ana's comms. "We've set up three snipers in the surrounding buildings, each trained on you. They each have two guards, and we have them checking in every 30 seconds. Once you have located Fareeha's grave-"

"Jack," she said, "I want to be alone with my daughter."

"We both know that's not happening, Ana. It's too risky."

In the windows where each sniper set up was a small, red dot. To any passersby, they wouldn't notice it, but Ana spotted them as soon as they lit up. She walked between graves of all sizes, some mausoleums, some regular graves. Some had an abundance of flowers, and others had worn down with only a dirt pile to speak for it.

Ana's comms scratched, Jack's voice following suit. "The funeral home doesn't keep its archives on a computer, but on paper. As such, we're having a team extract it for you."

Shrike groaned. "I'll jump in and see if I can find it, too." Before the strike-commander could protest, Ana muted her comms.

Entering the funeral home felt like walking into some highly advanced training regime. All was pitch black, the only source of light being the soldiers' laser sights and night vision goggles. Except for this time, the enemies were the funeral workers, lying dead with multiple gunshots.

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