Chapter Text
"I love this."
"What?!"
Gabe smirks, side-eyeing Cole. "Japan. The people, the culture, the food."
"Yeah,” Cole says, a single eyebrow raised in suspicion, “that's pretty good."
Gabe breathes in deep, the humid air fills his lungs. It reminds him of summers spent as a kid at his abuela's, running around in the drenching, oppressing humidity. It would be easier to deal with if they were in the middle of the rainy season but, in fact, Japan is in the height of the Sakura blooming period, and they've been hit with record-breaking heat and had their first monsoonal rain of the year; two months early. Not that the trees will be filled with very many flowers anymore, not after the downpour they got hit with overnight.
Having the balcony door open is probably not the best of ideas, but the air in the room had stagnated. While it has raised the humidity to unbearable levels, it's better than what it was—the stink of four people sweating like they’re in a sauna.
Sighing wistfully, Gabe gives Cole a little wiggle of his eyebrows. "The weather."
Cole tsks, sitting back in his seat. He’s dressed in a t-shirt and shorts, both of which are so soaked with sweat it looks like he just came back from a swim in the hotel’s pool. "See, I knew that's what you were talkin' about. Every damn time we're somewhere humid you get all doe-eyed."
"Just be glad it's not July."
"I don't care," Cole says with a groan so achingly tired, Gabe feels it in his bones. "This humidity can eat my entire ass."
Gabe snorts, his smile grows wider when he hears the hushed, angry German from the other side of the room. He glances over his shoulder at Dr. Ziegler, and if looks could kill, Cole would be dead before he hit the floor.
It's completely understandable—the poor woman has been confined to the hotel doing paperwork at the dining table, on standby in case something happens to their plant inside Shimada Castle. She initially joined them to attend a medical conference in Kyoto at the start of the mission, but since then, she’s been stuck inside for two weeks and counting, staring at the four sunflower yellow walls of the living space, all the while putting up with alpha team’s efforts to keep some level of respect with her in the room.
Well. That only lasted a week when Cole eloquently announced that he had ‘dropped the biggest shit of his life’ without realising she had gotten up for breakfast. Understandably she was mortified, and no amount of apology could take that back.
It’s been a slippery slope since then, a crude joke here or there that she's tolerated to a certain degree. Granted, Cole hasn’t been at his most vulgar.
Until now, that is.
Gabe elbows Cole, and Cole levels him with a scowl. The kid is the best asset Gabe's had on his team in a long time, but shit, sometimes he's oblivious. Gabe gives Ziegler a flick of his head, Cole's eyes flit to her, and he grimaces.
"Sorry, Angie," he says meekly. "Ain't used to keeping my language in check."
"Please, don't let me stop you," Angela retorts, sarcasm dripping off every word. "It's not like I could be out there saving lives or anything. But, you know what? I just love being stuck in this hellhole of a room, with no air conditioning, suffering from this brutal heat and humidity, and it can—" she huffs, closing her eyes and pinching the bridge of her nose. "It can eat my entire ass."
Gabe’s eyes flit to Cole, and they devolve into laughter. He glances at Ziegler and she rolls her eyes, but he does notice the upwards quirk of her lips that she is desperately trying so hard to contain. It just makes him laugh harder—she almost looks constipated.
“You’ve corrupted the good doctor,” Gabe says with a sigh. “What’ll Jack think now?”
“Jack will just add it to the list of shit he blames you for,” Cole replies, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. “I don’t care if this mission is bust, that just made this all worthwhile.”
“Happy to be of service,” Ziegler replies, standing and bowing. “Now, I’m going to have an ice-cold shower to cool off. Please don’t interrupt unless one of you is dying.”
“Fair enough.”
“Enjoy, doc,” Cole says. He looks down at himself. “I might just follow you once you’re done. I’m sweating like a pig.”
Ziegler beelines to the fridge, pulling out two bottles of electrolyte drink and walks them over. “I want these empty by the time I am done."
“Thanks.” Cole takes the bottle, cracks the lid and just about chugs all of it.
“Take your time,” Gabe says. “Asa’s not set to check in for another hour anyway.”
With a nod, Ziegler turns her back on them. Gabe adjusts in his chair, peeling his sweat-stuck legs away from the wooden seat and looks out the door of the balcony. They’ve got a decent-ish view of Shimada Castle, as best as they can manage at the very least without arousing suspicion given how deep into Shimada territory they are. They can’t see much, about a quarter of the compound itself, but proximity to it was key.
He's got a good soldier on the inside—Ben Asa. They waited months for a job opening, and it came in the way of a new gardener. Ben was vetted six ways from Sunday, but he ended up getting the job. It worked better than they could have planned given the castle’s numerous indoor gardens; he has full access to the compound and has gotten friendly not only with the other hired help, but he has befriended the youngest Shimada.
Ben’s bringing back some juicy intel regarding the inner workings of the clan and their plans moving forward after Shimada senior’s demise. Turns out their plans to expand their territory not only in Japan but establish a US base of operations is still on the cards, but most curiously, there is heavy infighting between senior clan members, as well as friction between the brothers. So far though, Shimada junior hasn’t revealed anything groundbreaking despite the hints he’s dropped about his extreme dissatisfaction with being affiliated with the clan.
Ben is confident, though, that with a little more time, Genji will open up. Things aren't exactly peachy there at the moment and every day, the brat reveals a little more.
“There,” Cole says with a groan, capping the now empty bottle, “all done.” He places it on the floor beside him, and when he sits up, lets out an ear-splitting burp.
“Good thing Zieger wasn’t here for that,” Gabe mutters, taking a good couple of gulps of his drink.
“Provided the check-in is positive, we should go out for dinner.” Cole crosses his arms over his chest, looking at Gabe. “Angie deserves it.”
“Does she ever.” Gabe stretches his neck from side to side, tilting his head enough to the left to crack it. He sighs in relief; that crick has been bugging him all day. “It’s been an uneventful week mission wise, and she’s had to put up with your bullshit for all of it.”
“Don’t quite know what you mean,” Cole says, looking at him from the corner of his eye. Gabe knows that mischievous tone and the accompanying shit-eating grin to mean trouble. “I’ve been the perfect gentleman.” He then leans to the side, let's rip a fart, and the moment that wall of putrid air hits Gabe’s nostrils he pushes Cole away and retreats to the balcony.
“Far from it,” Gabe says, scowling at Cole when he joins him outside.
“She ain’t in the room, is she?”
“No, but I am.”
“Don’t pretend you’re any better. I learned from the best, after all.”
“Don’t pretend you’re not the same shithead I picked up three years ago,” Gabe replies. He opts to leave the door open to let Cole's stink out, leaning against the cool wall and pulling out his packet of cigarettes from his pocket. Gabe offers Cole one and he turns it down.
With a shrug, Gabe places a cigarette between his lips, plucking out the lighter beside the last two in the packet and igniting the end. The smoke fills his mouth and he relaxes, exhaling, returning the lighter to his pack and placing it back in his pocket.
There is a gentle breeze, on the cooler side which cuts through the humidity. Despite reminding him of home, this relief is more than welcome. “Should open up the apartment fully, air it out from the humidity and your foul odour.”
“It’ll be welcome,” Cole says. “What’re you thinking for dinner?”
Gabe hums, taking another drag. They’ve stuck with the sushi place downstairs over the last couple of days thanks to the storm, but now that it's passed, all he’s been craving is a good, hot noodle dish. “Ramen.”
“Yeah, I could smash a bowl of ramen.”
“Then it’s settled.” Gabe ashes into the ashtray sitting on the ledge of the balcony. "Message Fio, she'll want in—"
There is a quick knock at the door to the room. Gabe’s heart pounds in his chest—housekeeping haven’t been bothering them thanks to the do not disturb sign they’ve left on the door handle, and right now, they're not expecting anyone to show. He narrows his eyes at Cole.
“Probably housekeeping asking if we need fresh towels again,” Cole says with a nonchalant shrug. “I’ll check.”
Gabe nods, taking a deep drag of his cigarette as Cole enters the room. Keeping his hand and cigarette outside, he steps back in to keep an eye on Cole.
There's another knock, louder, more desperate. Gabe glances at the handgun sitting on the coffee table. He can get to it in under a second if he needs to.
Hand on the handle, Cole looks through the peephole. “Fuck,” he says, fumbling with the lock.
Gabe snuffs the cigarette against the balcony wall and leaps for the gun, aiming at the door. When Cole opens it, Ben steps through, holding a very bloodied, very dead person in his arms.
“What the fuck is this ?" Gabe growls, lowering the gun as Cole quickly closes the door and locks it. He hovers there a moment, no doubt making sure Ben wasn’t followed. "Have you lost your goddamn mind—”
“Where’s Ziegler?” Ben asks, gently resting the person onto the couch.
Gabe glances at Cole, flicking his head towards the back of the apartment.
“I’ll get her,” Cole says, racing off.
Gabe tucks the gun into his pants at the base of his spine and stands over the dead person, resting his hands on his hips. “Who the fuck did you drag in here like a cat bringing in a mouse?”
“Genji.”
“Genji,” Gabe breathes, looking at the kid. This isn’t just an ordinary person, no, Ben dropped a fucking dead Shimada on his couch, and it'll only be a matter of time before the rest of them come looking for him. His heart hammers in his chest; they need to leave. Now. “You’ve compromised the mission, I hope you know that.”
“I couldn’t leave him,” Ben says, looking up at him. His eyes are watery, blood and tears and stain his cheeks. “He’s not dead.”
“He’s not…” Gabe moves in closer to get a good look at the kid. His face is slashed, so bad Gabe can’t even recognise him. He has a jacket draped over him and Gabe pulls it back, Genji’s right arm is missing from just below the shoulder.
“Jesus Christ,” Cole mutters, standing beside Gabe.
Gabe hums, looking at the rest of Genji’s injuries—he’s got deep lacerations to his torso, his legs have been slashed down to the bone . There is no way this kid should be alive, but as he focuses on his chest again, he sees it rise, ever so slightly as it's accompanied by a wet, sickly drawn in breath. “How the fuck is he still alive?!”
“I gave him biotics.”
“That won’t get him very far—” Gabe pauses, his eyes narrow when he sees a green glimmer radiate off the kid. He blinks and it's gone, he glances at Cassidy who looks just as confused as Gabe feels.
Ben leans forward, whispering something in Japanese to Genji. Gabe's Japanese is at tourist levels at best, but whatever Ben is saying, Gabe can't hear nor understand it.
“Move,” Ziegler says, elbowing past Gabe, and he steps out of her way. She kneels on the carpet, her hands hover above Genji’s torso as she eyes him up and down. “He needs a hospital, I can’t treat him here.”
“You have to do something,” Ben says, barely a whisper.
Gabe looks at him. He’s covered in blood, from head to toe, his clothes are soaked in it. His eyes are vacant though, and Gabe's been in this job long enough to know the signs of shock. “You did good, son,” he says softly, placing a hand on Ben’s shoulder. “We have to get him out of the country. If they get an inkling that he’s alive—”
“They think he’s dead,” Ben says. “They told me to dispose of him and return at once.”
“You specifically?" Gabe asks. "Or your garden crew?”
“We were packing up for the afternoon, they called me by name to—to...” Ben looks down at Genji and rests his hand on the top of his head.
Gabe’s stomach drops. There is every possibility that Ben’s cover was blown, and that this is a message. It’s most likely the reason why Genji is within an inch of his life, for feeding information to the enemy. There is absolutely no way he’ll be sending Ben back in there, not when he’s a loose end.
Right now, Ben’s career is likely over. He’ll probably need to go deep underground for a while, if not the rest of his life. If he doesn’t return, the clan won’t stop looking for him. Hopefully, they’ll eventually get bored and he can have the chance of a normal life.
But that’s a problem for later. Right now, the only thing that matters is they get the hell out of here before they're swarmed by Shimada grunts.
“Dead or not,” Gabe says, “it doesn’t matter. Shimada junior’s popular enough that despite this," he gesticulates to Genji, "someone will recognise him. If he survives and that information gets back to the clan, they’ll stop at nothing to finish the job.”
“Reyes,” Zeigler pleads, “he needs a hospital now .”
“And we’ll get him one. In Switzerland.”
Ziegler looks down at Genji. “I… I don’t know if he’ll make it.”
“Doc,” Cole says. “Surely you can use your healing staff or something.”
“Yes, but it won’t be enough.”
“Do what you can,” Gabe says. “I’ll call Fio for an emergency evac and bring round the van. Cole, clean up here. Everything must be gone, no trace of us or him,” he gives Genji the flick of his head, “being here must be left.”
“Got it,” Cole replies. He sprints off to the bedroom.
“Ben, what happened?” Ziegler asks, activating her staff. Golden light radiates off it, localising on Genji’s chest. “Who did this?”
There is a moment of silence, and Gabe turns his attention to Ben. His eyes are wide, unfocused, welling with tears. Gabe knows that face, he’s seen it countless times during the war.
While this isn’t the first time Ben’s seen death, this is his first solo mission. He knew Ben was cosying up to Genji, but now, he wonders if there was something more between them. Either way, this will be a trauma that lives with him for the rest of his life.
Gabe squeezes Ben’s shoulder gently. “Son, who did this?”
Ben blinks rapidly, tears spill down his cheeks as he looks at Gabe. “Hanzo.”
The gravity of that revelation slams into Gabe like a truck. There was friction between the brothers after Shimada Senior's death, yes, but murder? It’s unfathomable, unbelievable, and he would be questioning it if Ben hadn’t dropped the name.
Genji wanted nothing to do with the clan, but that’s not grounds for fratricide. At this stage, the only thing that makes sense is that they knew Ben was undercover and that Genji was feeding him information. This had to be done out of necessity to protect the clan rather than a spat turned deadly.
“Ben, have a shower,” Gabe says. “Give your clothes to Cole. He’ll deal with them. We’ll debrief on the shuttle. Got it?”
Ben nods, slowly making his way to the bathroom.
Sighing, Gabe looks at Genji on the couch. Well, what’s left of him. How he is still alive after this is a miracle. “Don’t lose him. I want to know everything that happened in that compound, from that drunken argument on the street last week to now. I don’t think Hanzo did this. It had to be someone else.”
“I will do my best,” Angela says absently, looking at Genji’s readings on her tablet.
With one final nod, Gabe leaves the room. He plucks his phone from his pocket, typing a message to Fio: Sorry to cut your shopping trip short but we need an immediate evac. Medical emergency.
“Well. This is as big a shitshow as it gets.”
Gabe rests on his elbows, closing his eyes rubbing his temples. Now that they’re safely on the shuttle, the stress has left a migraine in its place. “You’re telling me.”
“Do they know you were there?”
“Don’t think so,” Gabe replies, looking at the image of Jack on the holoscreen. “If they suspected, they would’ve followed Asa and killed us all while we were cleaning up. Asa said that they think Shimada junior is dead.”
“It could still be a ploy. Of all the people on the grounds to deal with the body, they chose Asa. The only member of our team on their payroll. It’s suspicious.”
“It’s suspicious as fuck,” Gabe mutters. He takes a deep breath and his fingers twitch; he would kill for a cigarette right now, but Ziegler would have his ass if he smoked in proximity to her patient. “We just wait this out, I suppose. Activate Asa’s retirement plan and have him live the rest of his life as far away from Blackwatch as possible.”
Jack inhales and exhales deeply. He wasn’t on board with this plan, he tried to talk Gabe out of it several times but Gabe insisted, writing reports and risk assessments to get Jack to agree. Gabe can't help but huff a sardonic laugh. Fratricide wasn't on that list.
Despite the reprimand that Gabe deserves for this fuck up, Jack doesn't press on. He gives a small, subtle nod. “How is Shimada?”
“Ziegler has done what she can without a hospital at her disposal. She’s stemmed the bleeding, she’s got him on oxygen. He’s critical, could go at any moment, but he only needs a couple more hours before he’s in the best care he’s likely ever had.”
Jack hums, picking up his pen and clicking it. “And what happens after? If he survives, do we send him on his way? Watch on as he goes home, either likely ending up dead for real or as he slaughters the entire clan?”
Gabe huffs a sardonic laugh. “Then the problem solves itself, doesn’t it?”
“Gabe—”
“Jack.” Gabe stares at Jack's image. His eyes are droopy, his hair is a mess. He’s stressed, possibly the most stressed Gabe has seen him since the Crisis. It's not unsurprising; this is the closest Blackwatch has gotten to being discovered by someone who could do real damage to them. If word got out that Overwatch, the shining beacon of this world had a black ops division, doing the dirty work they refuse to touch with their pristine hands, it would cause chaos.
Ultimately, hindsight is twenty-twenty, and if Gabe could have a do-over, he’d leave this mission off the table. Ben’s career is over, his life changed for the worse. On top of that, if they hadn't intervened, Genji might not be on death's door. This kid's life hangs in the balance, and he's likely responsible for that. Both of their lives have been upended in the worst ways, and no one deserves to go through that.
But the damage is done, and they have to pick up the pieces and salvage what they can.
“What if we kept him?” Gabe asks. “You’ve seen the surveillance footage. He’s skilled. Deadly. Imagine that power in our hands.”
Jack scoffs. “You want to take in an ex yakuza ?”
“Think of the potential. He was trained for assassination.” Gabe folds his arms across his chest and stares Jack down, tsking when Jack raises an eyebrow. “He’s a fucking ninja , Jack. They invented assassination.”
“They didn’t,” Jack intones.
“If he makes a full recovery, he could be a useful asset.”
“Ex. Yakuza. ”
Gabe rolls his eyes. “I remember having this same conversation when I took Cassidy in. ‘Ex bikie, would stab you in the back the second it was turned and return to that life of crime.’ Well, look at how well he’s worked out!”
“Can you handle him?”
“He cannot be worse than Cassidy.”
“Yes. Or. No?”
“Yes,” Gabe hisses. “I’ll just feed him the ‘we saved you, we’ll help you tear down your old clan in exchange for your services’ spiel. Keep him on that leash.”
“If he survives.”
“He’ll likely be bedridden for the next six months at the very least,” Gabe murmurs. “And once he’s out of the woods, he’s got a long, hard road full of prosthetics and cybernetics. Plenty of time to get to know him, figure out what happened, offer him the opportunity of a lifetime. His second lifetime.”
“You keep him on a tight leash and I’ll allow it.”
Gabe cannot help but grin. That was easier than he was anticipating. “He won’t set a single toe out of line, I can guarantee it.”
“See that he doesn’t,” Jack grumbles. “Keep me apprised of his situation.”
“Will do.”
“Morrison out.”
The screen goes blank, quickly replaced by the Blackwatch logo. Gabe closes the feed and leans back in his seat, picking up his tablet and reading Genji’s file. All the kid wanted was to live a normal life, to be himself and do his own thing absent his criminal family, and it got him killed. There is sadness in that, a rigidity that Gabe is truly unable to understand. He wanted nothing to do with his family’s restaurant, passed down over three generations, and he is incredibly fortunate that his parents gave him the opportunity to forge his own path in life.
Genji might be an acquired asset, doing Blackwatch’s bidding when he’s recovered, but at the very least the kid will have a life that doesn’t involve family breathing down his neck with every step he takes.