- Doomsday - Volume One: Gods and Monsters

Chapter 93: So Long, Cowboy

(AN: Hey all, slightly curious again, and don't feel like there's any obligation to answer. In this story what's either been your favourite and/or least favourite part, or more generally, what characters/places/themes have you liked or disliked the most. I'm quite interested because what I think works or doesn't work could be completely different to what you all think, so would love to hear any thoughts. In terms of the general story, I have a general plan for what's coming up, but a lot of what I write is dependant on my mood, and I often make changes on the fly. For example, I find it very funny how Chapter 62 (Reflection) and the most recent chapter (Chapter 92: Radiation) seem to have gotten far more votes than other recent chapters (not counting the first fifty or so), despite not having Doomsday in them at all (but being mentioned of course). Maybe it's because they focus more on the Overwatch side of the universe, or they act as a break from the main group of characters, or they might have simply been better written chapters in general. Junker War seems to have had ups- and downs, and I can certainly see parts of it dragging on a little, but other parts did get more highly voted, so if there were pacing issues, hopefully I can learn from that in the future. Besides that, I hope you enjoy the chapter as usual.)

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[Dorado, Mexico]

"VETE A LA CHINGADA, GRINGO!" Shouted a young revolutionary, covered all across his body with neon, luminescent tattoos that glimmered under the shoddy street lamplight. He couldn't move however, stomach pressed against the cracked pavement, hog-tied. This didn't stop him from resisting however, thrashing about on the floor, practically frothing at the mouth. A brassy chuckle responded, followed by the satisfying clink of metal against metal. "Wow. You'd give a buckin' bronco a run for their money. I like the gusto, kid. Maybe put it to good use after you get out of county." Scattered around the restrained revolutionary, multiple other unconscious bodies joined him, slowly being shuffled into large black trucks one-at-a-time.

The voice belonged to none other than Jesse McCree himself. Slamming his revolver back into its holster, he let out a tired breath of air. Who would have thought chasing these Los Muertos guys for the last few weeks would be so exhausting. Come to find out the revolutionaries had a far larger network of informants throughout the country then Blackwatch initially expected. It didn't help his mood much having been taken on a wild goose chase across the entire length of the landmass, under sweltering sun heat and through deserts, jungles and swamps. Fortunately, they had finally been able to capture a convoy, perform interrogations for information and successfully take down a large regional hub. There would be more to come in the future, but for now they had gained the advantage, making it much easier from here on out.

It wasn't that much different than the work he had been doing with the Deadlock Gang, but after now years of experience under Blackwatch, but specifically Reyes' tenure, Jesse had refined his craft down to an art. It reminded him of wrangling farm animals in his youth. You just had to give them time and eventually they'd break, all he had to do was exert pressure and not let up. Only difference was that people seemed to resist a lot longer, but McCree enjoyed it that way, there was no sport in chasing sitting ducks.

From his time hunting down crooks across Mexico however, it wasn't hard to see the divisions within the nation. Blackwatch's targets were the 'Los Muertos' gang, a band of organised criminals who styled themselves as 'noble' revolutionaries. The truth appeared more oblique than that, Jesse himself having conducted heavy investigation into the group, 'noble' was probably the last word he would have used to describe them. Kidnappings and blackmail, the trade of illegal weapons, drugs and even people, and countless murders. It would take years for them to dig up all the bodies buried across the country by their hand, and that didn't even include the mass graves.

Their fight was with the government, but more importantly, LumeriCo. Supposedly an 'energy' company, in reality it served as a front for the nation's rich to exert authority over the weak federal government. The Omnic Crisis, or 'La Medianoche', the Midnight, did just as much psychological damage to the nation's people as it did physically. Mexico was devastated by the conflict, just as most nations had, with thousands of orphans left behind, families torn apart, and a governing elite who turned a blind eye. An economic divide that would leave a bloody, festering scar for countless decades to come, and resentment was already building.