HITMAN: Aftermath

All For Nothing pt. 1

A/N: Wow... I've taken so long that Hitman 3 got released, and Overwatch has... pretty much lost its mainstream popularity. But alas, I've finally gotten through with a chapter I'm happy with, plus the rest of the fic! If you're still here after so long, thanks for reading!

"Clera here. Welcome to Gibraltar, 47. Your targets are Jack Morrison, more infamously known as Soldier 76, and Winston, a genetically modified ape hailing from the Horizon Lunar Colony following the escape of all test subjects. These two are the core leaders of Overwatch, and they have been bunkering in the old watchpoint since the beginning. Watchpoint: Gibraltar is heavily refitted and refurbished, filled to the brim with security. They are on strict orders to hunt you, and will question any soldiers not in a pair."

"So no disguising?"

"Not exactly. We have intel that a contingency of Overwatch agents are making their way towards the watchpoint. They are disorganized and won't suspect you. Once you reach the entrance of the watchpoint, proceed through the checkpoint like normal; we have a man inside who will act as your partner. Then, I will give further instruction."

The feed cut off, and 47 diverted his focus. From atop a hill, under the cover of pitch black skies and blankets of light rain, Agent 47 peered through a sniper scope. He found the gate leading into Watchpoint: Gibraltar. He made out the several snipers that watched from above. Going through were rows of smaller buildings, acting as the checkpoint.

47 turned away, finding a lit spot on the ground among the night. Scoping on the light, he found an encampment of Overwatch soldiers. They were filing in and loading up humvees and other vehicles, aimed at the watchpoint.

Not wanting to run late to the camp, he took aim at the frontmost jeep. He focused the rifle through the darkness, holding his breath. The bullet flew through the silencer.

Barely, he could make out the vehicle's silhouette. It tilted forward after the shot.

Agent 47 packed the rifle into the suitcase, leaving it at the hilltop. Then he began his descent and walk to the encampment. Raindrops struck his head and drenched his raincoat, which covered his formal suit and tie.

At the camp, lit solely by floodlights and the headlamps built into each soldiers' helmets, they ran in and out of the dozen military tents dotting the camp. Everyone was carrying something, be it a small crate of supplies or a rack of weaponry. When their superiors wanted something done as fast as possible, they had to go as fast as possible.

"How long until we can move to Watchpoint: Gibraltar?" one soldier shouted through the lashing sheets of rain.

"They're still changing out the tire! The weather's slowing everything down, but we're set to move as soon as the tire is fixed!" someone yelled back.

Among the rushing crowd, one soldier parted ways, trying to catch his breath. He ran behind a tent, finding a concrete barrier put up to mark the perimeter. Behind the barrier was some thick grass and shrubbery. Sighing, he leaned against it to regain his bearings.

But as he tried wiping his visor, something lurched out and grabbed him from behind. It reached around his neck, pulling him above the barrier and into the foliage. He felt his entire body go over the barrier as 47 kept him in an armlock.

Soon, he leapt back over the barrier and to the encampment. 47 returned to the chaotic sight, walking among the rushed soldiers. The tent he was behind just moments ago was taken apart and folded by a group of soldiers. The encampment was being dissected for transportation through the convoy. Soon, it was the barren land it once was.

"Everyone move to a transport vehicle!" the commanding officer shouted through his comms. The tire had been repaired, and 47's entrance into the watchpoint was secured. He found a truck with five other soldiers and took his seat.