Taking this mission on had been, undoubtedly, a huge risk. They’d been low on options though. Who else would know the inner workings of a gang like Deadlock well enough to get the job done? And besides… it’s personal, in a way. Deadlock hasn’t been Jesse’s for a long time now, but his blood’s still in its foundations. And while he doesn’t like the route it’s taken over the years, he likes the thought of Talon worming their way into it even less. He knows Ashe could agree with that, at least.
So here he is. Maybe pulling off the last stunt of his life, if this goes badly.
The security is good, but Jesse has been at this for a good long while, and he’s got intel on top of that. He slips into Ashe’s suite with the patrol none the wiser, and he takes his time getting settled in. Last he heard, she was at a meeting. He has a while. First order of business: find out where she keeps the good booze.
His subsequent sweep of the room has less to do with snooping and more with the genuine concern of hidden cameras or bugs. His inspection doesn’t turn up anything, and neither do the devices he’d brought for this reason; but he does dig up a few other things by accident. A few photos, torn into pieces. Some of them taped back together, the edges carefully aligned. Old mementos too, stuff that looks worthless to anyone who doesn’t know what they are. It all makes his chest feel unexpectedly tight.
He pretends he didn’t see any of it, tucking them back carefully where he found them. Those early days feel like they came from someone else’s life. Like they’d been a whole century ago and not a few decades.
With nothing else left to do, Jesse settles in at Ashe’s table with a generous helping of Jack Daniel’s, Peacekeeper on the tabletop alongside the open bottle and a set of keys. He settles back in his seat, facing the door, one leg crossed over the other, and waits.
Ashe was tired, and she was getting older. Long gone were the days when this was nothing more than a joyride. Now it was a job and a tricky one at that. No matter how good she was at it, or how much she still enjoyed the power, fear, and respect, she was tired.
Now, she wasn't entirely oblivious to things being out of place regarding her network and the territories that were hers. She ran the southwest like the conductor of an orchestra; carefully making sure that each group did what they were supposed to do and stayed within range and tune. When they worked together they created beautiful madness, but if one instrument was squeaking, the other people started to falter. For awhile now, she'd known that things were happening under her nose. Despite the respect she'd earned over the years with her wit, knowledge, and aggression, there were always young upstarts trying to break in. She knew you had to contend with them or run the risk of them taking control, after all she and Jesse had been those kids. So far, the crown still belonged to her and she intended to keep it until she chose her own successor. Which meant figuring out just what was going on and she'd had less success than she liked.
She missed the thrill of the sport. It was harder to find and her last one had been interrupted. So when she escapes finally to the comfort of her own private apartment, she's eager for a hot bath, a bottle of jack, and a good night's rest. The dark circles under her eyes suggest it's been awhile since she's had a good one. What she doesn't want is company, let alone the company of Jesse McCree who has been repeatedly responsible for turning her life upside down and then running off to let her solve the pieces. When she turns on the small side lamp and finds him sitting at her table, coy as a cat and drinking the milk that belongs to her, exhaustion is replaced by irritation as she narrows her eyes at him.
"You've got some fuckin' nerve..." Her hand goes to the smaller gun at her hilt, prepared if need be. "Either that or a death wish."
It’s not a bad start, all things considered. He’d half expected her to aim right between his eyes on-sight.
“Nah, not a death wish. I don’t intend to see the inside of my grave for a good long while.” He looks up at her with that cocksure grin as he reaches over to pick up the keys. There’s a reason he’d put his gun on the table, and had posed himself with his hands in full view. He’s not here to fight.
“Here. Even brought you a peace offering. It’s out back with a full tank of gas.” He spins the keyring around his finger a few times, her custom-made keyring flashing in the light.
“I think you’ll want to hear what I have to say, so how about we keep the bullets from flyin’ just yet?”
It was a thought that had crossed her mind, aiming right between his eyes, but she also wasn't dumb and she was too tired to let her temper let her believe it would be anything else. She was smart enough to know that if he wasn't holding peacemaker that he figured he had something she wanted more than to kill him.
He wasn't entirely wrong either, because her eyes go wide with desire when she sees her keychain twirl around his fingers. That bike had been well missed and she hadn't gotten used to the one she'd been using as a spare, or found one she loved enough to purchase.
Her eyes narrows her eyes at him. Here is again just out of reach and taunting her, and she wants to charge across the room and slap that damn grin off his face. Every time he looks at her like that and acts like he knows what she wants and how to play her, it digs the knife into an old wound, because he stopped knowing what she wanted as soon as Blackwatch had whisked him away. But on the surface, yeah...she does want her bike back.
As she takes a couple steps forward towards him towards the other chair her glare grows stronger. "Returnin' it don't mean you ain't a thief. You've always been a thief, deep down to your core." She holds out her hand. "Give 'em back and maybe I'll listen to you."
"Says the woman who I last saw robbin' a train. You never heard that old saying? About stones and glass houses?"
Jesse’s eyes track her across the room, ready for the moment she changes her mind about pleasantries and goes to shoot. He doesn’t think she will though, not If she hasn’t already and not unless he provokes her further.
“Got some stipulations. Guns on the table, like mine.” He nods towards Peacekeeper. “And hands out where I can see ‘em. I’ll say my piece, and if you want me gone after that, then I’m gone.”
Looking at her now, he almost feels a little guilty about springing this on her. Not that he could’ve just made an appointment or anything, but… she looks significantly more tired than he’d last seen her. Long day, or something bigger than that? He wonders if it has anything to do with the rumors he came here to talk about.
Edited (I FORGOT A WHOLE PART AT THE BEGINNING aaaaah) 2020-02-18 00:10 (UTC)
There's a sneer on her lips when he calls the kettle black. "I never pretended I was anythin' else." Neither had he really, but Ashe saw things are certain way, in some ways to make it easier on herself. If he was out there stealing than it meant he was still doing the same as her, only...without her. There was a mess of confusing thoughts in her head and she wasn't in the mood to sort them out right then. Clearly they had bigger matters to attend to anyway.
Viper was on her shoulder and she very carefully made a show of removing the gun so that he could see she was hanging it up. By the door too. She still has her smaller gun on her but she pulls it out and walks over towards the table to set it down in the middle. She isn't sure placing them in the middle of her table will prevent this from ending up with them staring down the other's barrels, but if that's what he wants, because she wants her bike back. She's momentarily unsure about the picture.
Once the gun is down and while she's still holding her hands up she watches him with a sassy look in her eyes. "You wanna pat me down too? Or are you satisifed?"
“Maybe after we’ve had our talk,” he says with a wink, his tone light and casual. He’ll flirt, but he knows better than to do it seriously. Not with Elizabeth Caldonia Ashe and two firearms on the table between them. That’d be like holding an open flame up to a pile of gunpowder and gasoline.
“But for now, yeah—that’ll do.” He tosses her the keys, then takes a sip of his drink. There’s another glass sitting on the table, just behind the bottle, and he pushes it lightly so it skates over the polished wood toward her.
The wink only earns an eye roll. As coy as she'd said she'd hadn't meant it. The last thing she needed was him to pat her down, he was liable to get shot if he came too close to her, she was like a snake that way, one that had been previously trampled on and was spitting venom.
Taking a seat across from him, and catches the keys easily. It feels good to have them back in her hands and it's not hard to see how eager she is to be back in her bike's seat. Part of her wants to say screw this whole thing, because she just wants to get up and go ride. However, despite what many thought about thieves, there is honor among them, and Ashe is a woman of a her word. Unless it comes to shooting him on sight apparently. Pocketing her keys, she also goes to accepts her bottle of whiskey trying to recall where the line had been before so she could figure out just how long he'd been in her home. Giving up she pours herself a glass of whiskey. "Well, apparently so do you, because you broke into my good stuff."
The first glass is quickly knocked back, as is the second. The third however sits in her hands and she finally turns her attention back to him. "Give me one good reason I shouldn't just get up and walk through that door and go get reacquainted with my bike?"
Jesse raises both eyebrows as she readily downs several glasses of whiskey in the span of a minute. It’s impressive, he’ll give her that. He wonders if all the stress if from him coming back around, or if it can be attributed to the same thing as her sleepless nights.
“I’ll get right down to it then.” It’s like flipping a switch: the trickster is gone, replaced by a serious, no-nonsense man. “Gonna just go ahead and assume you’ve heard of Talon by now. Most of the big players have, and I know you’re one.”
He’d even worried, for a time, that she’d get caught up with them. Deadlock does bad things, no getting around that. But they aren’t on Talon’s level. If Ashe were the type of woman to throw her lot in with them… well, he thinks he’d know, time and distance be damned.
“You’ve got a mole, and I’m here representin’ a… concerned party. One that’s got as much of a stake in rooting them out as you do.”
Ashe could some of the biggest men under the table, something she was proud of, but something her liver probably didn't appreciate. Thank goodness for updated health care. She runs her finger around the rim of the glass an act of nerves as she listens to him speak. She was as familiar with this side of Jesse as she was with the one that joked and flirted and acted like he was dumber he was. How many times had she sat next to him in negotiations with other gang members and watched him speak in this exact -to the point- kind of way? She had no idea, but she had preferred occupy the seat next to him rather than across from him.
As he speaks her face goes cold and she tips back the glass to down that shot, before switching to her other vice; cigarettes. She lights one and then inhales deeply before letting it out. "I'm well acquainted with Talon." And not in the good way. "I've pissed them off a time or two. They can't seem to understand that some people have limitations on how much filth they'll cover themselves in." She wouldn't work with them for a second. Her approach to things was anarchist in nature, but not to the same degree, and the last thing she wanted was to hand over a bunch of high end weapons to a group that wanted to take control of the world as far as she could see it. It went against her 'stay in your own territory' approach. Needless to say she was housing some weapons that she kept vaulted and refused to sell.
She rapped her nails against the table, taking it in. The mention of a concerned party made her angry in another way. "Overwatch you mean. Don't bother hidin' it. I know damn well you've hooked back up with their new little criminal gang. And don't bother denyin' it, rumors are everywhere and I got ears in all kinds of places." But this information also confirmed what she'd basically been thinking for awhile.
Running her hands back through her hair she took another inhale of the cigarette. "Fuck..." The heavy sigh that followed and the way she pinched the bridge of her nose was suggestive of the fact that she had already been suspecting as such. But neither was she sure that she wanted to give Jesse and Overwatch information about the weapons either.
So he’d been right about Ashe. It fills him with a rush of something almost like pride—that he’d called it, and that she had stood firm to some semblance of her morals all these years. Not that he’d had anything to do with any of that. Their paths had split irreparably the day he was taken.
His mood shifts quick, and he curses internally as she names Overwatch. His eyes narrowing is the only hint of his displeasure on the outside, though she probably remembers his tells. They’d hoped Deadlock didn’t know, but word travels fast in the underground. It’s only a matter of time before this becomes a problem.
Nothing to be done about it though. This problem though, Ashe’s problem, that he can help with.
“Bet you get a kick out of that, Overwatch being outside the law now.” He sighs and finishes off his whiskey before grabbing the bottle. He hadn’t meant to drink this much during this meeting. In retrospect, he should’ve known better than to even start.
“Yeah. It’s Overwatch, but it’s not what it was. We’ve got nobody to report to but ourselves. That’s why I’m even here to make a proposition.” He sets the bottle down and raises his glass, watching her intently as he takes another drink. “We want to keep Talon from spreadin’ much as you want to keep ‘em out of your business. Let me help you smoke this mole of yours out. I have intel and the tech you need, and none of what I see or hear gets passed along. We turn a blind eye.”
Those had not been popular terms, but Jesse had insisted on it. He knows well from his time in Blackwatch: you can’t keep your hands clean to get results. This will make them complicit in whatever dealings Deadlock is involved in, but it can’t be helped. Got to serve the greater good.
This was where she struggled on the concept of Overwatch, and his ideas surrounding it. One thing they'd argued about previously. The idea that Overwatch was only just now breaking the law. She leans forward towards him a pointed look on her face because this was exactly why she hated the idea of a wholesome organization that was led by heroes.
"Look, you can bullshit anyone else, but you can't bullshit me. That organization had its own fair share of corruptions. Just because for a time they had everyone fooled enough to earn medals and awards and what not doesn't mean that they weren't justifying illegal shit to get the 'job' done. Good people don't exist, there's just people who manage to do less damage than others. But Overwatch, yeah...they were swimmin' in damage and you and your little team whatever they were were at the heart of the corruption. Hell, I respect this little Overwatch uprisin' more now than I ever did before. Least now the lot of you stragglers are being honest about your intentions to work outside the law." But Ashe and her gang, they'd always be the villains, with no one ever knowing that they were sitting on weapons of mass destruction that they could use to destroy and didn't. Sometimes you had to be a villain to know how to stop one.
So he wanted to make a proposition. She'd always sworn against working for the law, but she'd just spat out one hell of a speech about how they weren't the law anymore. Still the idea of letting Jesse in to help her take care of her own problems was not one that settled well.
"So now, you want to what? Cozy up with Deadlock? Come in and rescue us from the big bad evil terrorist group? She had a feeling he was trying to serve the better good, and maybe in some way so was she, but letting him back in, it was laughable. She didn't want to share in any of the glory when she hung the Talon scum threatening her empire on a tree in the desert, let alone with Jesse McCree. "Thanks for the bike, but I'll have to pass."
You and your little team. He bristles at that, but he doesn’t argue the point. She’s right, isn’t she? Blackwatch had never been squeaky-clean. That was the whole point. They trudged through the mud so Overwatch never had to get its boots dirty, to the point where most of its members didn’t even know they worked on a foundation built out of blood and pieces of all the laws they’d broken. The only ones who had—people like Ana and Jack—knew better than to destroy the illusion of Overwatch as a monolith for good.
Lot of good it did them in the end.
“At least think about it,” he huffs, exasperated by the quick dismissal. “We know y’all can handle your own business. You’ve dealt with every other threat you’ve been up against before now. But Talon is different. We aren’t lookin’ to rescue you so much as keep ‘em from getting their claws into your assets and doing even more damage.”
He toys with how much to tell her about the big picture. About what’s brewing. Maybe she already has gotten wind of it: another omnic uprising. There’s more at stake than their pride, even more than the entirety of their respective organizations. He frowns down at his glass, swirling around what remains of the amber liquid inside.
None of this settled well with her. If he wasn't trying to stand up for the group that had stolen him from her, then he wouldn't even be here sitting across from her. Their relationship had never been easy to navigate, but whatever they'd been, he'd been her best friend and it was like a knife in the gut to see him once again across from her ready and willing to use her to accomplish Overwatch's goals. She was a means to an end and if that was it, she wanted to send him out of her home and just be done with him. Let the memories of him stay in the photos of better times.
She feigns shock when he mentions Talon being different. "Seriously? Talon is different?" She let the act drop as she tapped her cigarette against her ashtray. "If you think I am not well aware they are after my assets, you are still underestimatin' me." Talon was looking to take over the world, of that much she knew, whatever else was lost on her. Of course that meant she was at risk like anyone else. But she had pride and she had anger and in some ways more negative associations with Overwatch than Talon. Ultimately she knew it was a smart idea to get some extra help against this one, but she wasn't going to just cave.
Letting Jesse in though? That would mean sharing Deadlocks secrets with them and she didn't want that. Keeping her cards close was something she was good at, and it had made her successful. Besides, the only collateral that Overwatch had ever wanted was the man sitting across from her and they'd successfully turned him against her. She glared at him after she took another drag. "Overwatch has nothin' I want anymore." The anger she was feeling was becoming physical, her hands were trembling and she hated how raw his presence made her feeling. Ashe made have kept her cards close, but her feelings were another thing, and she was beginning to feel transparent. So she stood up and pushed off the table, needing to put some space between them.
Sliding the glass door to her balcony open, leaning in the frame. There was a great view of the moonrise over the dessert and took a deep breath to try and calm her nerves. She turned back towards him. "For Christ's sake Jesse, stop tryin' to use me. I am not your fuckin' steppin' stone to gettin' Overwatch what it wants." She steps out onto the patio, mumbling to herself. "First that damn box, and now this."
Jesse’s anger at the way his life was forced to change has long since been processed. Doesn’t mean he still doesn’t get riled up about it sometimes, particularly when he’s deep down in a bottle of something astringent. But what’s left of it can’t hold a candle to the anger he’d seen in Ashe the last time they’d spoken like this. He can see traces of it now in her hands. Hear it in her voice. Feel it in the way she looks like him, like he’s the scum of the earth.
It’s not lost on him either, the way she phrases that. She’d thought she wanted him back, right up until she realized the person he’d become. Seeing how different they were after the years apart had been jarring for them both.
So he doesn’t begrudge her the anger, but that last thing hits him hard, leaving him mentally reeling as he tries to recover. Shit. Shit, of course she’d think that. There’s precedent, why wouldn’t she?
“Ashe—” But she’s already outside, leaving him alone at the table. He curses out loud this time, pressing a hand to his face, the pressure of fingers on both eyes. Then he stands, leaving their weapons on the table behind him as he follows her out.
It really is a beautiful night. The sight of it catches him off-guard, and he takes a slow, deep breath in as he looks up at the moon. He’s missed the desert… but this isn’t the time to enjoy it. He turns towards Ashe instead, leaving plenty of distance between them.
“I’m not here to use you, Ashe. I know you’re still burnt from the train, but this… it’s different.” Not that he agrees with her reaction. He’d left them plenty of loot, hadn’t he? But that’s an argument that could cost him even an ounce of her trust. Which he needs. For both their sakes.
“If it was just about gettin’ Overwatch involved in your business, we have other ways to do that. But that’s not the point.” He folds his arms over his chest, studying her in the low light of the moon and the ambient light from inside. “Deadlock isn’t mine anymore. I don’t have a place here, but you think I want to see Talon use it any more than you do? You break the law, sure, but you’ve still got standards. And you fight for ‘em. I’ve seen you do it over and over again.”
He doesn’t know how she’ll take that. Knowing how closely he’s kept tabs on them.
“Talon doesn’t have standards. And they wouldn’t be above puttin’ a bullet in you, or worse, so they could get control over everythin’ you’ve built. I’m here because I don’t want to see that happen.”
Ashe had pretty much told Jesse that he was dead to their gang, no longer wanted and no longer needed, and it still tugged uncomfortably at her emotions to hear him say it wasn't his. It was easy enough to brush that off, because the bad blood had built between them since their first meeting after his time with Blackwatch. The train heist hadn't improved anything and she was still burned by it all. She'd argue that it was the principle of the matter that had made her not care about the loot he'd been willing to leave behind.
Then there was her bike and there was no excuse for that, except that Jesse was being a brat and trying to get her riled up. Some things never did change and his ability to get her riled up in a variety of ways hadn't changed. He could still ignite her anger faster than an explosive. No one had ever moved her or gotten to her the way he did, which was probably why it all still stung so much.
Her back remains to him as she takes in his words and tries to process them. While she was full of a myriad of uncomfortable emotions, she also wasn't so stubborn to put the wellbeing of Deadlock at risk because she wants to shut the door in his face. Ashe always had been headstrong and passionate, but she knew when to turn it off and listen. That was how she could make peace with rival gangs despite how much they'd burned her and Deadlock. Sometimes the enemy of your enemy was your best friend.
"I know damn well Talon doesn't have standards. I might not be Overwatch, but I know the power groups in this world, and I know that Talon is the worst of them. And if Talon is infiltrating, it's because they know they can't just put a bullet in me." She lets out an audible sigh. So Jesse hadn't been able to entirely let them go is what she was getting from his words. Exhaustion makes it difficult to want to try and assign meaning to why he'd keep such close tabs. She would maintain that she didn't need him. "But..." If he had information that could assist, maybe there was a deal that could be made. The fresh air and serene evening was calming to her temper. The least she could was hear him out.
Finally, she takes a seat on one of the patio chairs and crosses her legs.. Without looking back at him she gestured towards the table inside. "Fine. Bring the liquor and take a seat. I'm gonna need it, if I have to hear you out." It wasn't a yes, but it wasn't a no, either. It was just her opening the door enough to listen.
Jesse recognizes the offer for what it is: one last chance. He quickly goes and retrieves the whiskey, along with both their glasses, setting them all down on the patio table before taking a seat himself. He chooses a chair beside her, rather than across, giving them both a clear view of the desert beyond. Maybe not having to look directly at him will be good for her temper too.
“I want to help you find the rat.” He gets right into it before she can change her mind about hearing him out. “I’d stay on the ground with Deadlock, gettin’ a feel for the people you have workin’ hands-on with you. It has to be somebody here, at the center, and not one of your outposts. Again—” He holds up a hand, as if fending off a protest she hasn’t verbalized yet. “Not that I don’t think you couldn’t. But you’d be usin’ up a lot of resources, and anybody you put on the job might be your leak. And an all-out manhunt could spook 'em and prompt Talon into usin' desperate measures. I’m a third party—so not your mole, obviously—and I’ve got the trainin’ for this exact thing besides.”
His experience is two-fold, as a mole and an agent tasked with flushing them out. He's not sure if that information would make her trust him more, or less.
It's easier in someways to not have to him facing her. It's a gorgeous view and far easier to address than the man sitting next to her. All the same, she helps herself to another shot glass of whiskey and forces herself to think clearly about what he's saying. It's hard for her to think that she has a mole, they've been on her team awhile, and she knows them all so well. Then again, it wouldn't have been impossible for Talon to convince some of the folks in her network to get information on her, or her hidden showcase of weapons and artifacts she has not sold for various reasons. But that information was tight lipped and only one other person on her team knew about it, and he wouldn't be a mole since he was as deeply invested in Deadlock as she was.
That same individual wouldn't be any happier than she was about letting him come back around. Jesse hadn't just hurt her when he'd been taken and decided to stay away, other members of their family had felt the impact as well. She shrugged. "How can I be so sure. I'm damn near positive it ain't one of my guys, but for all I know you are sneakin' in under the cover of Overwatch to figure out all my secrets." She didn't really think so, after all he could have done that far more easily years ago, but she lived in uncertainties and possibilities rather than believing something completely. "Even if you aren't, I still don't like it. The idea that you will be feedin' information back to any group makes you feel like a mole. Makes you harder to trust, and we know how well I trust you already."
Leaning forward with her elbows on her knees she swirled her whiskey. "So let me get this straight. Talon is basically sendin' out its agents into every little power group it can, is your theory. You and the other vigilantes are stickin' your own players into these groups to smoke 'em out?" It made a certain amount of sense. You didn't charge into a situation, you weren't sure about. There were several big players. The corporation in Russia that might as well as been a criminal enterprise, of that she was sure. There was the gang in Mexico but she could guess that a certain Hacker was already playing both sides there. The Yakuza was in Japan and she knew that had connections everywhere. And she was the leader of Deadlock and their influence trickled out through most of the west if not questionably across America, through her more trusted connections. "And I suppose they sent you because you spoke Deadlock once upon a time. They do know you are wanted by just about everyone in Southwest, right? Criminal and Cop alike."
“They aren’t even botherin’ to infiltrate a lot of ‘em. They’re using a lot of tactics: bribery, blackmail. Straight up murder, if that’s more convenient.” He picks up his glass again but doesn’t drink yet, staring off at some distant point out in the desert. He’s seen how far they’ll go for an objective. What they did to Amalie… for all he knows, they could’ve done the same here. Used a sleeper agent to do their dirty work, someone Ashe knows and trusts. It’s one thing he’ll help her rule out, if she agrees to this.
“That’s part of the reason I’m here and not somebody else. One, it’ll be more believable than any of our other agents suddenly showin’ up and workin’ close with you. And two…” He takes a drink then, relishing the burn. “You could turn me in at any time. Power is in your hands there. You think I’m puttin’ you, your operation, or anybody on your team in danger? You call in a tip to the authorities and strand me out in the desert somewhere for them to find. It’s in my best interest to toe the line.
As for what I tell Overwatch, we agreed before I came here: you’d have control of the com. Once I give it to you, you can search me up and down. It’s my only way to communicate with the rest of the team. Once a week, I check in with ‘em, only after you give me the com and only with you in the room to hear what I say. But I meant what I said before: we aren’t after intel about Deadlock. Not much else matters right now aside from takin’ Talon down.”
His voice takes on a hint of steel with that last line. There can’t be another omnic war. And side from that… Talon has a lot to answer for, in what it’s already done to the world. To Overwatch. Brainwashing Amalie and killing Gerard, recruiting Reaper and Moira, killing off Overwatch agents one by one…
He’s a man with nothing to lose, and nothing he’d like to see more than Talon in pieces.
The thought of leaving him to deal with authorities if he betrayed her almost made her laugh. If she felt betrayed again, she'd jail him in her personal prison, or, she told herself, finally shoot him. "Handing you over to the cops would be a holiday vacation compared to what I'd do with you if you betray us." She was bitter and hurt and filled with anger over a past she couldn't control. It was a contrast to what she'd been with him when they were younger. While still angry, she'd been happy and warm and even outright affectionate. Sometimes she thought she would have preferred to have gone out together with him in a huge dramatic battle, rather than grow apart.
What he was saying though made enough sense, and they weren't the law so she wasn't breaking any of her guidelines. Jesse was still a wanted criminal so if she said her piece to the gang, they'd accept him. The idea still didn't settle well, but they could work it out under the guise of a trial basis. It wasn't like gang members never came crawling back and begging for forgiveness. Some might even be happy that the war between Jesse and Ashe was potentially ending.
Still, she could think of some issues. Finally she turned the chair towards him and looked at him with the same look she always entered into negotiations with; cold, calculating, but full of consideration. "There are a lot more issues that could arise that I don't think you are fully thinkin' about. Say I accept this little endeavor of yours and I let you back into Deadlock, it would be on a trial basis. Some of the team remembers the old days still, and they would be more welcomin' than I would, but you ain't stayin'. This is all a ruse you and Overwatch have crafted up and when you get what you want, you'll leave us behind again. Your absence caused enough damage the first time, you're willin' to break apart the family again? I know you and you're charmin' demeanor, they'll get attached, 'cause you manage to make everyone love you somehow. Will it mean anythin' to you to abandon us? Another thing, they can't ever know you're infiltrating, because then you'll make me look bad and I don't like lookin' bad in front of my family."
She checked off some of the issues on her fingers, thinking of each thing that he really needed to consider before jumping back into bed with them. "On top of the damage you could potentially do, you'd be making me go back on my rules, so how are we goin' to explain that one away? 'Cause people are gonna wonder what's so special about you that I'd forgive you after all these years and wrongs." Looking at him, she wondered if he even had it in him to be a Deadlock Rebel anymore. "You'll also be committing crime again, because you'll have to play the role completely. No stayin' at home if you're the best man for the job. Clearly you ain't worried about killin' to get what you want, but are you gonna be okay not playin' the hero?"
There was just one more thing that she could think of, though other questions would potentially crop up. "And finally, what's in it for me? Why should I let you back into my life and into the family we built together? And I ain't interested in money or threats, so leave those propositions off the table."
Far as Jesse is concerned, that look on her face is a good sign. Means she’s taking this seriously, and that she just might not blow him off after all.
“You wouldn’t want me to stay even if this wasn’t an Overwatch mission,” he points out. He got the message loud and clear the last time: you aren’t welcome here. Likewise, he’d made it clear he didn’t want to stay. But he knows what she means. “I’ll have to get in close with the team to find your rat. Can’t be helped, but what’s worse: a few hurt feelings, or the crew gettin’ assassinated or brainwashed into drones?” Harsh, maybe, but it’s the reality of the situation.
He considers the rest of her points, mulling it over as he keeps eye-contact with her. This is a negotiation, of a kind, and he can’t appear wishy-washy or unsure. Confidence, that’s always the name of the game.
“We can set this up like you’re the one usin’ me. Say you’ve got blackmail material over my head. Maybe you need me for somethin’ specific, and it was worth callin’ me in for.” He’s not afraid of any potential blow to his reputation, clearly. Hard to damage something already that beat to hell. “And I don’t know what you think I’ve been doin’ since I got roped into Deadlock, but I’ve been breakin’ the law just about every day since then. Look at my bounty: nobody thinks I’m any hero. Deadlock couldn’t ask me to do much worse than what I’ve already done.”
The news hadn’t gotten their hands Blackwatch’s files, and their reports on the black ops side of Overwatch had barely scratched the surface. Assassination. Kidnapping. Framing people for crimes they didn’t commit. Sowing political unrest. The list goes on.
The last question gets a raised eyebrow out of him, and looks away from her only to finish off his drink.
“The threat of losin’ Deadlock ain’t enough? What’s in it for you is your gang in one piece, but past that… I suppose it’s a matter of what you want.” He locks eyes with her again, dead serious. “Name it.”
Likewise, she stays neutral and doesn't falter much in her features or voice. This is one of the most important negotiations of her life, and she wanted to do it right. Ashe wasn't about to point out the fact that she only kicked him out because he was making it clear he didn't want to come back. It wasn't in her nature to give anyone an opportunity to break her heart, so she had cut the conversation and their relationship before he could. Silently, she still suffered with it, letting it fuel her anger each time he did something she felt was a slight against her honor.
"No, you don't want to come back, you made that clear." A fault of hers was refusing to own it. She held up a hand before he could argue. "But that's neither here nor there right now, so stay on task." As if he was the one at fault for bringing that piece up in the first place. She never had been an easy woman.
She gives the matter further thought and shakes her head. "No. I want you to beg, in front of people for forgiveness. Whether it's fake or not, I want a goddamn apology. I want you to make my team believe you can't think of anywhere else you'd rather be than with us. If you can convince them, then I'll let you back in to do your work under a few conditions." She began to check things off on her fingers. "One. I take the damn lead on this. You're right you are not a hero, and I will allow you to assist me in this issue, but you sure as hell won't be bossin' me around. You can make suggestions and offer guidance but I get the final say. Also, You will have contact with Overwatch like you said and only under my watchful eye. You will be cut off, unless I say otherwise. You do what I say, when I say it. Behave and I'll let you work with me."
The whole business hurt, especially when he was so critical of Deadlock yet so fond of Blackwatch. If he'd been doing such awful things with them, then why did he hate her and the gang so much. Whether these were truths or lies they were feelings that got lost in the mix and she believed that he had rejected her. When everyone she'd ever loved had done the same, it triggered a pain she did not know how to deal with through anything other than aggression and anger.
Then there was the matter of what she wanted. "I want a couple of things. One, you will not ever use me again the way you did with our last heist. You don't ever take my things again. And when I tell you to listen to me you listen. Finally, I get an IOU. I can call on you or your team whenever for whatever I may need. Tit for tat sweetheart. So do you want into the game, or is the price too steep."
Jesse isn’t pleased and his frown, though thoughtful, says as much. He’d known she’d make demands, had even suspected they’d border on outlandish. Him begging the team’s forgiveness isn’t something he’d imagined though when he pictured her using this to get even.
“Can’t argue with most of that. This is your turf, so we play by your rules.” Even if it sounds a little like he’ll be playing the role of one of her henchmen. He’s willing. His pride doesn’t matter in the grand scheme of things, so that isn’t the problem.
“Two speed bumps in those conditions though. This here, this agreement? It’s not between me and the whole gang. It’s between the two of us. You callin’ up Overwatch has to be the same, because the brass over there wouldn’t take kindly to you askin’ for a favor. But they can’t object to what they don’t know about.”
It’s hard enough for some of them to accept the existence of Blackwatch and Jesse’s presence with the newly formed Overwatch. If he starts bringing in outside criminal elements, it could fracture their fragile alliance even more. Things are rocky enough.
“And the second bump… you don’t think that’ll hurt the gang more, me puttin’ on that big of a show? I’ll do it, if that’s what you want. Though I don’t see what I’d rightly be apologizin’ for.”
Not coming back to Deadlock? The heist? Could be those or a half a dozen other things besides.
He had some points and she hated it. That was one of the things though that had made them so good together, they knew how to go back and forth until a proper plan was set in place. The issue they were facing at the moment wasn't going to have an easy solution.
It seemed he was on board with at least some of it. She didn't necessarily want him to be her henchman, she just wanted to make sure that he would allow her to be in charge, rather than come in assuming he could run the thing better. It was a pride thing for her and she always had been extremely afraid of losing control, and his loss had made her that much more afraid of having what she loved taken away. Though she couldn't really care less about the rest of Overwatch, she liked having Jesse owe her one. "You're sayin' that Overwatch isn't pullin' the strings of you bein' here? They didn't send you into my territory?" Then why would he come back to the gang then; certainly there were no more feelings on his end of things. She simply assumed that Jesse was chosen for this particular Overwatch mission because he knew how Deadlock worked.
"Now I'll get to that long list of things you should be apologizin' for in a minute, but before that, I need to know whether Overwatch is involved in this matter or not. Because if they are, then it ain't just you and me, it's Deadlock and Overwatch. If they want to use my resources to capture some Talon agent, then the brass over their ain't that bothered by workin' with me."
It’s complicated, just like how it had been back in the day with Blackwatch. They’d been Overwatch’s shadow, had worked on their behalf, but they did it their way and kept their own secrets. The fact that he’s doing much of the same thing now doesn’t sit entirely well with Jesse. Isn’t this all he’s ever done, moving from one group to the next, walking that razor’s edge between independence and subservience? Oh, but it is not the time for thinking like that.
“Overwatch is involved, though comin’ here was my idea. What I mean is…” He holds up his hands, palms up, lifting and lowering them as if they were part of a scale. “Way we’re comin’ to you now, it’s me on behalf of Overwatch. Deadlock doesn’t know except for you.” He lowers one hand, then raises the other. “It’d have to be the same the other way around to be balanced, right? You comin’ to me on behalf of Deadlock. Overwatch doesn’t know.” He lets his hands drop.
“They’d help you out within reason, but some of our team… they don’t realize what it might take to neutralize Talon. And if they won’t do dirty work for that, I can’t guarantee they’ll do whatever it is you want them to. Some of ‘em wouldn’t have any problem helpin’ you secure a route for runnin’ guns through Arizona. Some of the others wouldn’t have it. But again—what they know won’t hurt ‘em. I’ve got more security clearances than most of them anyway. I can get you whatever you ask for.”
If she knew the full extent of it, she may have had a little more compassion for him. It hangs in the air unaddressed though and she keeps her focus on the negotiations. The clarification helps, and she can see his side of things regarding that. "Okay, fine. I hear what you're saying, and I agree to that." The other part is something that's at the heart of the issue she's having with Jesse. Overwatch is willing to turn a blind eye to their crimes so long as they don't fully realize what it takes. She's never had trouble taking the burden of the heat, but there was a reason that many of the cops kept a distance from her and that's because half the time she's taking out the other trash.
"Hypocrisy at its best, right?" It was making her start to crave another cigarette. It could get exhausting doing the dirty work, while others received praise. At least Elizabeth Ashe was no stranger to taking the blame. "If your little group of vigilantes wants to accomplish anything, they'd better start understandin' that you can't protect without gettin' as ugly as the enemy. I seem to recall you understandin' that though. If they want to prevent an all out world war, they'd better start expectin' a Talon war. No wonder you decided to show up and get into the mud, you never minded gettin' your hands dirty. I'll be better off goin' through you for whatever I may need anyway."
With that matter handled, she moved on to the next question he'd brought up. "I don't know whether that would hurt my team more or less. I don't think it would matter too much in the end. I just want to see you beg to come back." The scenario she'd held a glimmer of hope for in her subconscious. "And the list of apologies you owe us is endless. For the heist, for stealin' my bike, for leavin' me behind and never lookin' back. For doin' worse acts of crime, but judgin' what I did in your absence to survive. For rejectin' your family. For rejectin'..." me but she trails off on that one because she can't say it and tries to think of something to add. "...Deadlock and our way of things. The very things you helped create. I may have become leader, but I followed you into this life and now you think you are better than us..." She was starting to feel emotionally, and finally she had to stand again and get another nicotine hit.
Once she breathes in the smoke on her new cigarette she closes her eyes. "It doesn't matter what, you gotta let them know you're sorry. You hurt them. I can tell them that I'm usin' you if you want, but they'll only accept you if they think you're one of them. And this has to look natural for you to get friendly with Deadlock again. Not to mention the other gangs. Even if you don't fuckin' mean it, you gotta make them think you do." She wanted to believe it. Believe that he cared enough to feel sorry for all the pain he caused her, and it pissed her off that he could so easily brush off the things he'd done either willfully or accidentally to them.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Before Deadlock
Early Deadlock
Before Reunion
Post Reunion
Family Stuff
AU Timelines
Post Deerington
Ashe in Blackwatch
Jesse staying in Deadlock
Other
she gets me deep in the chest // straight through my bulletproof vest
Taking this mission on had been, undoubtedly, a huge risk. They’d been low on options though. Who else would know the inner workings of a gang like Deadlock well enough to get the job done? And besides… it’s personal, in a way. Deadlock hasn’t been Jesse’s for a long time now, but his blood’s still in its foundations. And while he doesn’t like the route it’s taken over the years, he likes the thought of Talon worming their way into it even less. He knows Ashe could agree with that, at least.
So here he is. Maybe pulling off the last stunt of his life, if this goes badly.
The security is good, but Jesse has been at this for a good long while, and he’s got intel on top of that. He slips into Ashe’s suite with the patrol none the wiser, and he takes his time getting settled in. Last he heard, she was at a meeting. He has a while. First order of business: find out where she keeps the good booze.
His subsequent sweep of the room has less to do with snooping and more with the genuine concern of hidden cameras or bugs. His inspection doesn’t turn up anything, and neither do the devices he’d brought for this reason; but he does dig up a few other things by accident. A few photos, torn into pieces. Some of them taped back together, the edges carefully aligned. Old mementos too, stuff that looks worthless to anyone who doesn’t know what they are. It all makes his chest feel unexpectedly tight.
He pretends he didn’t see any of it, tucking them back carefully where he found them. Those early days feel like they came from someone else’s life. Like they’d been a whole century ago and not a few decades.
With nothing else left to do, Jesse settles in at Ashe’s table with a generous helping of Jack Daniel’s, Peacekeeper on the tabletop alongside the open bottle and a set of keys. He settles back in his seat, facing the door, one leg crossed over the other, and waits.
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Now, she wasn't entirely oblivious to things being out of place regarding her network and the territories that were hers. She ran the southwest like the conductor of an orchestra; carefully making sure that each group did what they were supposed to do and stayed within range and tune. When they worked together they created beautiful madness, but if one instrument was squeaking, the other people started to falter. For awhile now, she'd known that things were happening under her nose. Despite the respect she'd earned over the years with her wit, knowledge, and aggression, there were always young upstarts trying to break in. She knew you had to contend with them or run the risk of them taking control, after all she and Jesse had been those kids. So far, the crown still belonged to her and she intended to keep it until she chose her own successor. Which meant figuring out just what was going on and she'd had less success than she liked.
She missed the thrill of the sport. It was harder to find and her last one had been interrupted. So when she escapes finally to the comfort of her own private apartment, she's eager for a hot bath, a bottle of jack, and a good night's rest. The dark circles under her eyes suggest it's been awhile since she's had a good one. What she doesn't want is company, let alone the company of Jesse McCree who has been repeatedly responsible for turning her life upside down and then running off to let her solve the pieces. When she turns on the small side lamp and finds him sitting at her table, coy as a cat and drinking the milk that belongs to her, exhaustion is replaced by irritation as she narrows her eyes at him.
"You've got some fuckin' nerve..." Her hand goes to the smaller gun at her hilt, prepared if need be. "Either that or a death wish."
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“Nah, not a death wish. I don’t intend to see the inside of my grave for a good long while.” He looks up at her with that cocksure grin as he reaches over to pick up the keys. There’s a reason he’d put his gun on the table, and had posed himself with his hands in full view. He’s not here to fight.
“Here. Even brought you a peace offering. It’s out back with a full tank of gas.” He spins the keyring around his finger a few times, her custom-made keyring flashing in the light.
“I think you’ll want to hear what I have to say, so how about we keep the bullets from flyin’ just yet?”
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He wasn't entirely wrong either, because her eyes go wide with desire when she sees her keychain twirl around his fingers. That bike had been well missed and she hadn't gotten used to the one she'd been using as a spare, or found one she loved enough to purchase.
Her eyes narrows her eyes at him. Here is again just out of reach and taunting her, and she wants to charge across the room and slap that damn grin off his face. Every time he looks at her like that and acts like he knows what she wants and how to play her, it digs the knife into an old wound, because he stopped knowing what she wanted as soon as Blackwatch had whisked him away. But on the surface, yeah...she does want her bike back.
As she takes a couple steps forward towards him towards the other chair her glare grows stronger. "Returnin' it don't mean you ain't a thief. You've always been a thief, deep down to your core." She holds out her hand. "Give 'em back and maybe I'll listen to you."
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Jesse’s eyes track her across the room, ready for the moment she changes her mind about pleasantries and goes to shoot. He doesn’t think she will though, not If she hasn’t already and not unless he provokes her further.
“Got some stipulations. Guns on the table, like mine.” He nods towards Peacekeeper. “And hands out where I can see ‘em. I’ll say my piece, and if you want me gone after that, then I’m gone.”
Looking at her now, he almost feels a little guilty about springing this on her. Not that he could’ve just made an appointment or anything, but… she looks significantly more tired than he’d last seen her. Long day, or something bigger than that? He wonders if it has anything to do with the rumors he came here to talk about.
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Viper was on her shoulder and she very carefully made a show of removing the gun so that he could see she was hanging it up. By the door too. She still has her smaller gun on her but she pulls it out and walks over towards the table to set it down in the middle. She isn't sure placing them in the middle of her table will prevent this from ending up with them staring down the other's barrels, but if that's what he wants, because she wants her bike back. She's momentarily unsure about the picture.
Once the gun is down and while she's still holding her hands up she watches him with a sassy look in her eyes. "You wanna pat me down too? Or are you satisifed?"
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“But for now, yeah—that’ll do.” He tosses her the keys, then takes a sip of his drink. There’s another glass sitting on the table, just behind the bottle, and he pushes it lightly so it skates over the polished wood toward her.
“You've still got good taste in whiskey."
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Taking a seat across from him, and catches the keys easily. It feels good to have them back in her hands and it's not hard to see how eager she is to be back in her bike's seat. Part of her wants to say screw this whole thing, because she just wants to get up and go ride. However, despite what many thought about thieves, there is honor among them, and Ashe is a woman of a her word. Unless it comes to shooting him on sight apparently. Pocketing her keys, she also goes to accepts her bottle of whiskey trying to recall where the line had been before so she could figure out just how long he'd been in her home. Giving up she pours herself a glass of whiskey. "Well, apparently so do you, because you broke into my good stuff."
The first glass is quickly knocked back, as is the second. The third however sits in her hands and she finally turns her attention back to him. "Give me one good reason I shouldn't just get up and walk through that door and go get reacquainted with my bike?"
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“I’ll get right down to it then.” It’s like flipping a switch: the trickster is gone, replaced by a serious, no-nonsense man. “Gonna just go ahead and assume you’ve heard of Talon by now. Most of the big players have, and I know you’re one.”
He’d even worried, for a time, that she’d get caught up with them. Deadlock does bad things, no getting around that. But they aren’t on Talon’s level. If Ashe were the type of woman to throw her lot in with them… well, he thinks he’d know, time and distance be damned.
“You’ve got a mole, and I’m here representin’ a… concerned party. One that’s got as much of a stake in rooting them out as you do.”
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As he speaks her face goes cold and she tips back the glass to down that shot, before switching to her other vice; cigarettes. She lights one and then inhales deeply before letting it out. "I'm well acquainted with Talon." And not in the good way. "I've pissed them off a time or two. They can't seem to understand that some people have limitations on how much filth they'll cover themselves in." She wouldn't work with them for a second. Her approach to things was anarchist in nature, but not to the same degree, and the last thing she wanted was to hand over a bunch of high end weapons to a group that wanted to take control of the world as far as she could see it. It went against her 'stay in your own territory' approach. Needless to say she was housing some weapons that she kept vaulted and refused to sell.
She rapped her nails against the table, taking it in. The mention of a concerned party made her angry in another way. "Overwatch you mean. Don't bother hidin' it. I know damn well you've hooked back up with their new little criminal gang. And don't bother denyin' it, rumors are everywhere and I got ears in all kinds of places." But this information also confirmed what she'd basically been thinking for awhile.
Running her hands back through her hair she took another inhale of the cigarette. "Fuck..." The heavy sigh that followed and the way she pinched the bridge of her nose was suggestive of the fact that she had already been suspecting as such. But neither was she sure that she wanted to give Jesse and Overwatch information about the weapons either.
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His mood shifts quick, and he curses internally as she names Overwatch. His eyes narrowing is the only hint of his displeasure on the outside, though she probably remembers his tells. They’d hoped Deadlock didn’t know, but word travels fast in the underground. It’s only a matter of time before this becomes a problem.
Nothing to be done about it though. This problem though, Ashe’s problem, that he can help with.
“Bet you get a kick out of that, Overwatch being outside the law now.” He sighs and finishes off his whiskey before grabbing the bottle. He hadn’t meant to drink this much during this meeting. In retrospect, he should’ve known better than to even start.
“Yeah. It’s Overwatch, but it’s not what it was. We’ve got nobody to report to but ourselves. That’s why I’m even here to make a proposition.” He sets the bottle down and raises his glass, watching her intently as he takes another drink. “We want to keep Talon from spreadin’ much as you want to keep ‘em out of your business. Let me help you smoke this mole of yours out. I have intel and the tech you need, and none of what I see or hear gets passed along. We turn a blind eye.”
Those had not been popular terms, but Jesse had insisted on it. He knows well from his time in Blackwatch: you can’t keep your hands clean to get results. This will make them complicit in whatever dealings Deadlock is involved in, but it can’t be helped. Got to serve the greater good.
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"Look, you can bullshit anyone else, but you can't bullshit me. That organization had its own fair share of corruptions. Just because for a time they had everyone fooled enough to earn medals and awards and what not doesn't mean that they weren't justifying illegal shit to get the 'job' done. Good people don't exist, there's just people who manage to do less damage than others. But Overwatch, yeah...they were swimmin' in damage and you and your little team whatever they were were at the heart of the corruption. Hell, I respect this little Overwatch uprisin' more now than I ever did before. Least now the lot of you stragglers are being honest about your intentions to work outside the law." But Ashe and her gang, they'd always be the villains, with no one ever knowing that they were sitting on weapons of mass destruction that they could use to destroy and didn't. Sometimes you had to be a villain to know how to stop one.
So he wanted to make a proposition. She'd always sworn against working for the law, but she'd just spat out one hell of a speech about how they weren't the law anymore. Still the idea of letting Jesse in to help her take care of her own problems was not one that settled well.
"So now, you want to what? Cozy up with Deadlock? Come in and rescue us from the big bad evil terrorist group? She had a feeling he was trying to serve the better good, and maybe in some way so was she, but letting him back in, it was laughable. She didn't want to share in any of the glory when she hung the Talon scum threatening her empire on a tree in the desert, let alone with Jesse McCree. "Thanks for the bike, but I'll have to pass."
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Lot of good it did them in the end.
“At least think about it,” he huffs, exasperated by the quick dismissal. “We know y’all can handle your own business. You’ve dealt with every other threat you’ve been up against before now. But Talon is different. We aren’t lookin’ to rescue you so much as keep ‘em from getting their claws into your assets and doing even more damage.”
He toys with how much to tell her about the big picture. About what’s brewing. Maybe she already has gotten wind of it: another omnic uprising. There’s more at stake than their pride, even more than the entirety of their respective organizations. He frowns down at his glass, swirling around what remains of the amber liquid inside.
“You want some collateral from me? Name it.”
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She feigns shock when he mentions Talon being different. "Seriously? Talon is different?" She let the act drop as she tapped her cigarette against her ashtray. "If you think I am not well aware they are after my assets, you are still underestimatin' me." Talon was looking to take over the world, of that much she knew, whatever else was lost on her. Of course that meant she was at risk like anyone else. But she had pride and she had anger and in some ways more negative associations with Overwatch than Talon. Ultimately she knew it was a smart idea to get some extra help against this one, but she wasn't going to just cave.
Letting Jesse in though? That would mean sharing Deadlocks secrets with them and she didn't want that. Keeping her cards close was something she was good at, and it had made her successful. Besides, the only collateral that Overwatch had ever wanted was the man sitting across from her and they'd successfully turned him against her. She glared at him after she took another drag. "Overwatch has nothin' I want anymore." The anger she was feeling was becoming physical, her hands were trembling and she hated how raw his presence made her feeling. Ashe made have kept her cards close, but her feelings were another thing, and she was beginning to feel transparent. So she stood up and pushed off the table, needing to put some space between them.
Sliding the glass door to her balcony open, leaning in the frame. There was a great view of the moonrise over the dessert and took a deep breath to try and calm her nerves. She turned back towards him. "For Christ's sake Jesse, stop tryin' to use me. I am not your fuckin' steppin' stone to gettin' Overwatch what it wants." She steps out onto the patio, mumbling to herself. "First that damn box, and now this."
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It’s not lost on him either, the way she phrases that. She’d thought she wanted him back, right up until she realized the person he’d become. Seeing how different they were after the years apart had been jarring for them both.
So he doesn’t begrudge her the anger, but that last thing hits him hard, leaving him mentally reeling as he tries to recover. Shit. Shit, of course she’d think that. There’s precedent, why wouldn’t she?
“Ashe—” But she’s already outside, leaving him alone at the table. He curses out loud this time, pressing a hand to his face, the pressure of fingers on both eyes. Then he stands, leaving their weapons on the table behind him as he follows her out.
It really is a beautiful night. The sight of it catches him off-guard, and he takes a slow, deep breath in as he looks up at the moon. He’s missed the desert… but this isn’t the time to enjoy it. He turns towards Ashe instead, leaving plenty of distance between them.
“I’m not here to use you, Ashe. I know you’re still burnt from the train, but this… it’s different.” Not that he agrees with her reaction. He’d left them plenty of loot, hadn’t he? But that’s an argument that could cost him even an ounce of her trust. Which he needs. For both their sakes.
“If it was just about gettin’ Overwatch involved in your business, we have other ways to do that. But that’s not the point.” He folds his arms over his chest, studying her in the low light of the moon and the ambient light from inside. “Deadlock isn’t mine anymore. I don’t have a place here, but you think I want to see Talon use it any more than you do? You break the law, sure, but you’ve still got standards. And you fight for ‘em. I’ve seen you do it over and over again.”
He doesn’t know how she’ll take that. Knowing how closely he’s kept tabs on them.
“Talon doesn’t have standards. And they wouldn’t be above puttin’ a bullet in you, or worse, so they could get control over everythin’ you’ve built. I’m here because I don’t want to see that happen.”
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Then there was her bike and there was no excuse for that, except that Jesse was being a brat and trying to get her riled up. Some things never did change and his ability to get her riled up in a variety of ways hadn't changed. He could still ignite her anger faster than an explosive. No one had ever moved her or gotten to her the way he did, which was probably why it all still stung so much.
Her back remains to him as she takes in his words and tries to process them. While she was full of a myriad of uncomfortable emotions, she also wasn't so stubborn to put the wellbeing of Deadlock at risk because she wants to shut the door in his face. Ashe always had been headstrong and passionate, but she knew when to turn it off and listen. That was how she could make peace with rival gangs despite how much they'd burned her and Deadlock. Sometimes the enemy of your enemy was your best friend.
"I know damn well Talon doesn't have standards. I might not be Overwatch, but I know the power groups in this world, and I know that Talon is the worst of them. And if Talon is infiltrating, it's because they know they can't just put a bullet in me." She lets out an audible sigh. So Jesse hadn't been able to entirely let them go is what she was getting from his words. Exhaustion makes it difficult to want to try and assign meaning to why he'd keep such close tabs. She would maintain that she didn't need him. "But..." If he had information that could assist, maybe there was a deal that could be made. The fresh air and serene evening was calming to her temper. The least she could was hear him out.
Finally, she takes a seat on one of the patio chairs and crosses her legs.. Without looking back at him she gestured towards the table inside. "Fine. Bring the liquor and take a seat. I'm gonna need it, if I have to hear you out." It wasn't a yes, but it wasn't a no, either. It was just her opening the door enough to listen.
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“I want to help you find the rat.” He gets right into it before she can change her mind about hearing him out. “I’d stay on the ground with Deadlock, gettin’ a feel for the people you have workin’ hands-on with you. It has to be somebody here, at the center, and not one of your outposts. Again—” He holds up a hand, as if fending off a protest she hasn’t verbalized yet. “Not that I don’t think you couldn’t. But you’d be usin’ up a lot of resources, and anybody you put on the job might be your leak. And an all-out manhunt could spook 'em and prompt Talon into usin' desperate measures. I’m a third party—so not your mole, obviously—and I’ve got the trainin’ for this exact thing besides.”
His experience is two-fold, as a mole and an agent tasked with flushing them out. He's not sure if that information would make her trust him more, or less.
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That same individual wouldn't be any happier than she was about letting him come back around. Jesse hadn't just hurt her when he'd been taken and decided to stay away, other members of their family had felt the impact as well. She shrugged. "How can I be so sure. I'm damn near positive it ain't one of my guys, but for all I know you are sneakin' in under the cover of Overwatch to figure out all my secrets." She didn't really think so, after all he could have done that far more easily years ago, but she lived in uncertainties and possibilities rather than believing something completely. "Even if you aren't, I still don't like it. The idea that you will be feedin' information back to any group makes you feel like a mole. Makes you harder to trust, and we know how well I trust you already."
Leaning forward with her elbows on her knees she swirled her whiskey. "So let me get this straight. Talon is basically sendin' out its agents into every little power group it can, is your theory. You and the other vigilantes are stickin' your own players into these groups to smoke 'em out?" It made a certain amount of sense. You didn't charge into a situation, you weren't sure about. There were several big players. The corporation in Russia that might as well as been a criminal enterprise, of that she was sure. There was the gang in Mexico but she could guess that a certain Hacker was already playing both sides there. The Yakuza was in Japan and she knew that had connections everywhere. And she was the leader of Deadlock and their influence trickled out through most of the west if not questionably across America, through her more trusted connections. "And I suppose they sent you because you spoke Deadlock once upon a time. They do know you are wanted by just about everyone in Southwest, right? Criminal and Cop alike."
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“That’s part of the reason I’m here and not somebody else. One, it’ll be more believable than any of our other agents suddenly showin’ up and workin’ close with you. And two…” He takes a drink then, relishing the burn. “You could turn me in at any time. Power is in your hands there. You think I’m puttin’ you, your operation, or anybody on your team in danger? You call in a tip to the authorities and strand me out in the desert somewhere for them to find. It’s in my best interest to toe the line.
As for what I tell Overwatch, we agreed before I came here: you’d have control of the com. Once I give it to you, you can search me up and down. It’s my only way to communicate with the rest of the team. Once a week, I check in with ‘em, only after you give me the com and only with you in the room to hear what I say. But I meant what I said before: we aren’t after intel about Deadlock. Not much else matters right now aside from takin’ Talon down.”
His voice takes on a hint of steel with that last line. There can’t be another omnic war. And side from that… Talon has a lot to answer for, in what it’s already done to the world. To Overwatch. Brainwashing Amalie and killing Gerard, recruiting Reaper and Moira, killing off Overwatch agents one by one…
He’s a man with nothing to lose, and nothing he’d like to see more than Talon in pieces.
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What he was saying though made enough sense, and they weren't the law so she wasn't breaking any of her guidelines. Jesse was still a wanted criminal so if she said her piece to the gang, they'd accept him. The idea still didn't settle well, but they could work it out under the guise of a trial basis. It wasn't like gang members never came crawling back and begging for forgiveness. Some might even be happy that the war between Jesse and Ashe was potentially ending.
Still, she could think of some issues. Finally she turned the chair towards him and looked at him with the same look she always entered into negotiations with; cold, calculating, but full of consideration. "There are a lot more issues that could arise that I don't think you are fully thinkin' about. Say I accept this little endeavor of yours and I let you back into Deadlock, it would be on a trial basis. Some of the team remembers the old days still, and they would be more welcomin' than I would, but you ain't stayin'. This is all a ruse you and Overwatch have crafted up and when you get what you want, you'll leave us behind again. Your absence caused enough damage the first time, you're willin' to break apart the family again? I know you and you're charmin' demeanor, they'll get attached, 'cause you manage to make everyone love you somehow. Will it mean anythin' to you to abandon us? Another thing, they can't ever know you're infiltrating, because then you'll make me look bad and I don't like lookin' bad in front of my family."
She checked off some of the issues on her fingers, thinking of each thing that he really needed to consider before jumping back into bed with them. "On top of the damage you could potentially do, you'd be making me go back on my rules, so how are we goin' to explain that one away? 'Cause people are gonna wonder what's so special about you that I'd forgive you after all these years and wrongs." Looking at him, she wondered if he even had it in him to be a Deadlock Rebel anymore. "You'll also be committing crime again, because you'll have to play the role completely. No stayin' at home if you're the best man for the job. Clearly you ain't worried about killin' to get what you want, but are you gonna be okay not playin' the hero?"
There was just one more thing that she could think of, though other questions would potentially crop up. "And finally, what's in it for me? Why should I let you back into my life and into the family we built together? And I ain't interested in money or threats, so leave those propositions off the table."
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“You wouldn’t want me to stay even if this wasn’t an Overwatch mission,” he points out. He got the message loud and clear the last time: you aren’t welcome here. Likewise, he’d made it clear he didn’t want to stay. But he knows what she means. “I’ll have to get in close with the team to find your rat. Can’t be helped, but what’s worse: a few hurt feelings, or the crew gettin’ assassinated or brainwashed into drones?” Harsh, maybe, but it’s the reality of the situation.
He considers the rest of her points, mulling it over as he keeps eye-contact with her. This is a negotiation, of a kind, and he can’t appear wishy-washy or unsure. Confidence, that’s always the name of the game.
“We can set this up like you’re the one usin’ me. Say you’ve got blackmail material over my head. Maybe you need me for somethin’ specific, and it was worth callin’ me in for.” He’s not afraid of any potential blow to his reputation, clearly. Hard to damage something already that beat to hell. “And I don’t know what you think I’ve been doin’ since I got roped into Deadlock, but I’ve been breakin’ the law just about every day since then. Look at my bounty: nobody thinks I’m any hero. Deadlock couldn’t ask me to do much worse than what I’ve already done.”
The news hadn’t gotten their hands Blackwatch’s files, and their reports on the black ops side of Overwatch had barely scratched the surface. Assassination. Kidnapping. Framing people for crimes they didn’t commit. Sowing political unrest. The list goes on.
The last question gets a raised eyebrow out of him, and looks away from her only to finish off his drink.
“The threat of losin’ Deadlock ain’t enough? What’s in it for you is your gang in one piece, but past that… I suppose it’s a matter of what you want.” He locks eyes with her again, dead serious. “Name it.”
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"No, you don't want to come back, you made that clear." A fault of hers was refusing to own it. She held up a hand before he could argue. "But that's neither here nor there right now, so stay on task." As if he was the one at fault for bringing that piece up in the first place. She never had been an easy woman.
She gives the matter further thought and shakes her head. "No. I want you to beg, in front of people for forgiveness. Whether it's fake or not, I want a goddamn apology. I want you to make my team believe you can't think of anywhere else you'd rather be than with us. If you can convince them, then I'll let you back in to do your work under a few conditions." She began to check things off on her fingers. "One. I take the damn lead on this. You're right you are not a hero, and I will allow you to assist me in this issue, but you sure as hell won't be bossin' me around. You can make suggestions and offer guidance but I get the final say. Also, You will have contact with Overwatch like you said and only under my watchful eye. You will be cut off, unless I say otherwise. You do what I say, when I say it. Behave and I'll let you work with me."
The whole business hurt, especially when he was so critical of Deadlock yet so fond of Blackwatch. If he'd been doing such awful things with them, then why did he hate her and the gang so much. Whether these were truths or lies they were feelings that got lost in the mix and she believed that he had rejected her. When everyone she'd ever loved had done the same, it triggered a pain she did not know how to deal with through anything other than aggression and anger.
Then there was the matter of what she wanted. "I want a couple of things. One, you will not ever use me again the way you did with our last heist. You don't ever take my things again. And when I tell you to listen to me you listen. Finally, I get an IOU. I can call on you or your team whenever for whatever I may need. Tit for tat sweetheart. So do you want into the game, or is the price too steep."
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“Can’t argue with most of that. This is your turf, so we play by your rules.” Even if it sounds a little like he’ll be playing the role of one of her henchmen. He’s willing. His pride doesn’t matter in the grand scheme of things, so that isn’t the problem.
“Two speed bumps in those conditions though. This here, this agreement? It’s not between me and the whole gang. It’s between the two of us. You callin’ up Overwatch has to be the same, because the brass over there wouldn’t take kindly to you askin’ for a favor. But they can’t object to what they don’t know about.”
It’s hard enough for some of them to accept the existence of Blackwatch and Jesse’s presence with the newly formed Overwatch. If he starts bringing in outside criminal elements, it could fracture their fragile alliance even more. Things are rocky enough.
“And the second bump… you don’t think that’ll hurt the gang more, me puttin’ on that big of a show? I’ll do it, if that’s what you want. Though I don’t see what I’d rightly be apologizin’ for.”
Not coming back to Deadlock? The heist? Could be those or a half a dozen other things besides.
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It seemed he was on board with at least some of it. She didn't necessarily want him to be her henchman, she just wanted to make sure that he would allow her to be in charge, rather than come in assuming he could run the thing better. It was a pride thing for her and she always had been extremely afraid of losing control, and his loss had made her that much more afraid of having what she loved taken away. Though she couldn't really care less about the rest of Overwatch, she liked having Jesse owe her one. "You're sayin' that Overwatch isn't pullin' the strings of you bein' here? They didn't send you into my territory?" Then why would he come back to the gang then; certainly there were no more feelings on his end of things. She simply assumed that Jesse was chosen for this particular Overwatch mission because he knew how Deadlock worked.
"Now I'll get to that long list of things you should be apologizin' for in a minute, but before that, I need to know whether Overwatch is involved in this matter or not. Because if they are, then it ain't just you and me, it's Deadlock and Overwatch. If they want to use my resources to capture some Talon agent, then the brass over their ain't that bothered by workin' with me."
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“Overwatch is involved, though comin’ here was my idea. What I mean is…” He holds up his hands, palms up, lifting and lowering them as if they were part of a scale. “Way we’re comin’ to you now, it’s me on behalf of Overwatch. Deadlock doesn’t know except for you.” He lowers one hand, then raises the other. “It’d have to be the same the other way around to be balanced, right? You comin’ to me on behalf of Deadlock. Overwatch doesn’t know.” He lets his hands drop.
“They’d help you out within reason, but some of our team… they don’t realize what it might take to neutralize Talon. And if they won’t do dirty work for that, I can’t guarantee they’ll do whatever it is you want them to. Some of ‘em wouldn’t have any problem helpin’ you secure a route for runnin’ guns through Arizona. Some of the others wouldn’t have it. But again—what they know won’t hurt ‘em. I’ve got more security clearances than most of them anyway. I can get you whatever you ask for.”
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"Hypocrisy at its best, right?" It was making her start to crave another cigarette. It could get exhausting doing the dirty work, while others received praise. At least Elizabeth Ashe was no stranger to taking the blame. "If your little group of vigilantes wants to accomplish anything, they'd better start understandin' that you can't protect without gettin' as ugly as the enemy. I seem to recall you understandin' that though. If they want to prevent an all out world war, they'd better start expectin' a Talon war. No wonder you decided to show up and get into the mud, you never minded gettin' your hands dirty. I'll be better off goin' through you for whatever I may need anyway."
With that matter handled, she moved on to the next question he'd brought up. "I don't know whether that would hurt my team more or less. I don't think it would matter too much in the end. I just want to see you beg to come back." The scenario she'd held a glimmer of hope for in her subconscious. "And the list of apologies you owe us is endless. For the heist, for stealin' my bike, for leavin' me behind and never lookin' back. For doin' worse acts of crime, but judgin' what I did in your absence to survive. For rejectin' your family. For rejectin'..." me but she trails off on that one because she can't say it and tries to think of something to add. "...Deadlock and our way of things. The very things you helped create. I may have become leader, but I followed you into this life and now you think you are better than us..." She was starting to feel emotionally, and finally she had to stand again and get another nicotine hit.
Once she breathes in the smoke on her new cigarette she closes her eyes. "It doesn't matter what, you gotta let them know you're sorry. You hurt them. I can tell them that I'm usin' you if you want, but they'll only accept you if they think you're one of them. And this has to look natural for you to get friendly with Deadlock again. Not to mention the other gangs. Even if you don't fuckin' mean it, you gotta make them think you do." She wanted to believe it. Believe that he cared enough to feel sorry for all the pain he caused her, and it pissed her off that he could so easily brush off the things he'd done either willfully or accidentally to them.