HITMAN: Aftermath

Poisoned Chalice

The director looked on gravely. The agency had advanced back into the station after no contact, and the first sight that greeted them was the bodies. After the building was swept, and the all clear was given, an official investigation was being held.

He stepped over a body bag, escorted by two guards.

"How many casualties?" he asked his female assistant.

"Out of the 50 stationed, 39 are dead, 8, including Agent 47, were out on a mission, and 3 are missing. We—"

"Sir?" an armored agent interrupted, his voice deepened and scratchy due to the helmet he wore. "We found a survivor in a closet."

The director then ran off to view the survivor, his guards and assistant staying close behind.

They first heard the mad, incoherent ramblings of a woman. Then as they got closer, was the woman, pale as the moon and surrounded by two doctors. She was sat down, hyperventilating about how she was going to die.

One of the doctors moved towards the director. "Her name is Fersa Abrams. The handler of Agent Smith, who is also missing."

"Is she in any condition to tell us anything?" the director asked.

The doctor slowly shook his head. "She witnessed everything go by. I doubt her mental health is stable enough."

The director looked pitifully at her. "The surveillance system?"

"Destroyed. Based on our current analysis, though, we know that there were four intruders, and they somehow had extensive knowledge on the layout of the base."

The director nodded. "Anything else?"

"Based on the markings we found on the walls, the weapons they used had consisted of a rivet gun followed by remnants of a turret, a large hammer, and dual automatic pistols. The fourth invader must've been a type of support."

The doctor was then sent back to the poor, traumatized woman.

The director put his hand on his chin. "Jade, bring me my database analyzer, or whatever it's called. These certain weapons, together. It rings a bell, but it may be a long shot."

The assistant gave him the phone-like device. He swiped around, opening four files in small windows.

"When I was a child, Overwatch was the greatest inspiration for me. I read up on all of their famous agents. The strike team consisted of Mercy, Reinhardt, Torbjorn, and Tracer."

He zoomed in on the first profile, swiping through each as he spoke. "The rivet gun, and the turrets? Torbjorn Lindholm specializes in that area. Giant hammer? Reinhardt. Tracer, the cadet, blinked around with said pistols. Mercy was there to revoke any damage taken."

"But sir, Overwatch was disbanded by the Petra's Act years ago!" the assistant argued.

"I know. That's bugging me the most about this."

The director looked at the doctor in sudden realization. "What if the Overwatch agents weren't done yet? What if they all came back secretly... like a recall?"

"But that would be going against the international Petra's Act!" the assistant said.

"Clearly. But that strike-commander of theirs was always the stubborn one."

"Boss!" the doctor shouted. "Boss! The handler told us something!"

He stopped in front of the director, failing to contain his adrenaline. "She saw them take Diana Burnwood. She saw her take a tracking device with her as she was captured!"