Rogues of Overwatch

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Rogues of Overwatch Page 31

by Dustin Martin

The rest of the week, Lydia caught snatches of the progress made with Heather. Sylvia left every training session promptly at the end of each for the interrogation session. And the deadline to hand Heather over to the FBI was fast approaching. Judging from Sylvia’s ever-increasing temper and frustration during the training sessions, things weren’t progressing. Most days she wore a sharp scowl and conducted the training more stringently.

  “Again, your opponent still has her weapon when she comes around the corner. You’re dead, Mr. Keyes!” Sylvia shouted when Aidan failed to disarm Lydia. She snatched the staff from Lydia’s hands and thrust it into Aidan’s. “Now, come around the corner.” He walked around the tall block in the agent training area, about-faced, and crept back to Sylvia. She grabbed his arms, flipped him high over her head, and slammed him on the ground, adding in a final strike that stopped short of his stomach. He flattened his body, wide-eyed and paralyzed in fear. “Now, we’re going to do this until you get it right!”

  “I think I’m going to be sick,” Aidan said, holding his stomach. Jando helped him to his feet.

  “Just be glad she didn’t aim lower,” he said.

  When it came to stealthy endeavors, Sylvia was strict with Lydia, who would practice keeping track of Sylvia’s movements throughout the Center all day and then report back to her. “I can see you following me from a mile away!” Sylvia often said, no matter if Lydia pretended to pass by like a normal pedestrian, watch her from a chair over a book, or was in deep conversation with others when Sylvia was around. “If I’m onto you, others will be onto you,” she’d tell Lydia. “You need to focus. Remember your training.”

  Finally, days before the estimated hand-off, Sylvia took Lydia with her to the holding cells after a training session. She said nothing until they arrived at the guard’s station, where Arthur, Gary, and Morella waited for her. Lydia looked around. “What’s going on?”

  The others faced Arthur, who rubbed his chin. “We’re in a predicament here.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Heather is willing to talk,” Sylvia said. “Presumably about her boss. And the sooner we take them and all their associates down, the better.”

  “That’s good,” Lydia said. “Why am I here then? Going to let me watch?”

  “No,” Arthur said. “You’re going to talk to her.”

  * * *

 

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