Roadhog's motorcycle rattled unhappily as it rumbled to a stop in the snow just outside one of innumerable abandoned buildings lining Pripyat's crumbling streets. Even in the frigid late-winter air, his bike couldn't handle the pace he'd set on their mad dash out of Switzerland. It couldn't be helped. They had to get to safety as soon as possible, and he would run his precious chopper into the ground if that's what it took to keep Junkrat safe. Speaking of whom…

He reached over and ripped off the tarp that he'd strapped over the sidecar, an action that earned him an almost girlish scream from his passenger. Junkrat scrambled to try and snatch the tarp back, but he wasn't quick enough. Instead, all he could do was huddle down into the relative shelter of his sidecar and wrap his arms around his bare torso to hold onto as much body heat as physically possible.

"H-hooley dooley! It's colder'n a penguin's dick out here! Why's this hemisphere gotta be all backwards and have winter in February?! It ain't natural, I tell ya!"

Roadhog merely rolled his eyes behind his mask and proceeded to unload what little they had brought with them. Junkrat soon stopped his bitching long enough to get out and help by kicking down the door of the building they'd parked next to. He then hobbled over to a broken-down crate and dug out a threadbare canvas jacket that was probably older than he was. He shrugged the jacket on over his shoulders, relieved at what little protection from the cold it offered. With that taken care of, the lanky Junker turned to other comforts.

An old faded jukebox sat against a nearby wall, the glass face lying shattered on the ground in front of it. Junkrat gave the machine a good punch, at which point it turned on and began to play. Rather that the Soviet-era patriotic songs that the jukebox's catalogue suggested it contained, the familiar tunes of a pilfered Men at Work record began to play instead. The song had just barely changed off "Land Down Under" by the time Roadhog had come inside from hiding the motorcycle. The ex-Enforcer shook off the dusting of snow that had accumulated on his shoulders before joining his charge. He lumbered into the dining area of what was once some sort of communal cafeteria for the workers of Chernobyl and their families before the disaster, settling himself down into a rickety old chair that groaned under his weight, threatening to give out on him. He didn't really care at the moment. He was just glad to finally be off the road.

"Man, what a ride! Been a while since we crossed a whole continent in a day. I'm bushed!" Junkrat exclaimed as he flopped himself across a row of chairs, lounging on them as if they were some sort of hammock. Roadhog found himself rolling his eyes at his companion once more. He was the one that had done all the driving, Junkrat had just hunkered down in his sidecar the entire time. The little fucker probably even slept half the journey. However, he would fully admit that it had been an exhausting ride, and thus had no energy to argue about it.

"Oi, Hog…" Junkrat started up again soon enough, though in a slightly more subdued tone. Not much, mind you, but it was enough of a shift to hint to Roadhog that he was genuinely worried. "You think anyone followed us? I mean, I made sure those Overwatch drongos couldn't tail us, but what about all the rest of them? For fuck's sake, they even recruited the bloody Queen! You sure they can't find us out here?"

Roadhog could only respond with a gruff sigh. The younger man's concerns were valid ones. In fact, they were the same questions he'd been troubled with during their day-long trip. The Chernobyl Exclusion Zone had always been their last resort hideout, a sanctuary they could escape to should the civilized world prove too dangerous for them. Normally, even if they were followed, their pursuers always ended up fearing the radiation too much to trail them in. But now? Now they had other Junkers hunting them, the only other people on Earth too crazy not to follow after them in there.

The ex-Enforcer glanced down at Junkrat again, meeting the gaze of a pair of hazel eyes that were staring at him expecting an answer. God, that had to be the most terrifying look anyone had given him. He knew the younger man expected him to assure him that everything was going to be okay, that they would be safe out there. The problem was Roadhog wasn't sure he could honestly promise all of that. Still, he couldn't just say nothing.

"Quit freaking out. I'm not gonna let them get you."

Tracer couldn't remember the last time she was this nervous before a mission. It was no great mystery why, of course. She – along with all of Overwatch's members that were willing to come along on the mission – were currently sitting in the Orca on their way to one of the most infamous nuclear disaster sites on the planet. No one on the dropship spoke during the flight, which only served to increase the already thick tension in the air. Of course, the clear plastic masks they all wore to protect them from the radiation would have probably made it difficult to carry on a conversation.

The silence was finally broken when Athena's voice came on over the speakers.

"Now entering Ukraine air space. Arriving in Chernobyl in twenty minutes."

Tracer drew in a deep breath, letting it out in a shuddering sigh. This was it. There was no turning back now. She took this opportunity to double-check all of her equipment, making sure there were no leaks in her rad suit. Mercy had assured them that the special jumpsuits she had them wear could stand up even in the rough conditions of heavy combat, but she wasn't too keen on pushing it to the limits. Besides, if all went to plan, they wouldn't have to test the suits out in combat. Then again, when did anything ever go to plan for Overwatch?

Just as she thought that, the dropship suddenly lurched forward in a massive increase in speed. Tracer let out a yelp as she was pressed into her seat, the g-forces reminding her of her days as a test pilot. Before anyone had the chance to question it, the onboard speakers crackled to life once more. Instead of Athena's synthetic voice, however, it was Ray, the Orca's quiet and thankless pilot, that addressed them.

"Sorry about that, folks, but it looks like we're gonna have to bump up our arrival time a bit. Our little fieldtrip's just turned into a race."

Tracer zipped over to the window of the dropship door, pressing her face against the glass to peer outside. She spotted it immediately; the familiar black gunship of Talon, followed by two unmarked ships that were clearly of hard light construction. Her heart sank at the sight. How in the hell did they manage to find the Junkers so quickly?! Could they have some sort of tracker on them as well? No, if that were the case, they'd have been after the two outlaws long before Overwatch finally got into the air. Unfortunately, the only other explanation was far more disturbing; they must be able to track the Orca.

"Dammit!" Soldier 76 growled aloud, clearly having come to the same conclusion as Tracer. "That bastard let us lead him right to them! Everyone, at the ready! We won't have much time to secure the area before they catch up!"

Roadhog sat outside under the rusted awning of the building, puffs of fog wafting from his mask filters as he watched the powdery snow float down from the sky. He didn't have a jacket like Junkrat had, but he felt it was worth braving the cold to keep watch. Despite his best efforts, he felt he had failed to adequately cover their tracks. He could smell the danger on the wind, but he had no idea what he could do about it. There was nowhere left to run. All he could do was stand and fight until the bitter end.

And bitter it would surely be. After everything he'd been through, all of the fighting, all of that desperate effort just to survive, this would be how he died; a worn out old criminal who'd failed once again to protect the most precious thing in his life. Well, if this really was his last stand, then the least he could do was drag as many people down to Hell with him as he fell.

It seemed his opportunity to do so was fast approaching. The serene silence was broken by the low hum of hover engines, pulling Roadhog's eyes upward. Through the haze of the falling snow he saw the silhouette of a large dropship, though he couldn't tell who it belonged to. Honestly, it didn't really matter. Regardless of whether it was Talon or Overwatch, it didn't change the fact that they'd been found already. Roadhog cursed under his breath as he hefted himself up off the ground, not bothering to brush the snow from his clothes before rushing inside.

Reaper leapt out of the black gunship, landing with a crunch on the snow-packed streets of Chernobyl. He stared up towards the sky, watching as the Orca continued no towards the north. As expected, Overwatch was headed towards Pripyat. That was fine. He didn't want to deal with the hassle of fighting them for a parking spot on top of everything else. Luckily, they'd brought along a solution to the distance problem.

The two accompanying dropships touched down on either side of the Talon gunship. The large doors fell open, letting loose a twenty-strong squadron of fearless outlaws. The Queen was the first to jump out, shivering lightly as the frigid air hit her skin.

"Fuck's sake, why'd those two idiots come all the way out to this godforsaken place? I'm gonna freeze me tits off out here!"

"This gonna be a problem?" Reaper hissed out. He would be rather annoyed to have come all this way just to have the Junkers chicken out because of the cold.

"Nah, she'll be right. We'll be plenty warm once we get the blood pumpin' a bit. They're just north, yeah?"

The wraith replied with a nod, to which the Junker Queen gave a grin that was uncomfortably reminiscent of their main target.

"Alright, boys!" she began, raising her voice to address the gathering of Junker Enforcers behind her. "Saddle up and get ready to bust some skulls! The only one ya can't kill is Junkrat!"

The response to her order was a raucous explosion of adrenaline and petrol. The Enforcers whooped in excitement, the engines of their cobbled-together dirt bikes roaring to life. The Queen herself hopped onto her own motorcycle and led the charge to the north.

Tracer could feel her skin crawling already as the Orca lowered itself down in the woods on the outskirts of Pripyat. She knew she wouldn't be able to feel it if she was exposed to the radiation that purveyed the area, but that didn't stop her paranoid mind from playing tricks on her. The dropship itself seemed to shudder as it touched down on the snowy, untamed land. Before the door could open, however, Ray came on over the speakers once more.

"I'm seeing a lot of movement coming from the south. I've gotten us as close as I can to the targets, but you guys better book it if you want to beat Talon to them."

Soldier 76 gave a nod, hitting the release switch for the door. As the door opened and the chill winter air rushed in, the commander turned to the rest of his team.

"Alright, you all know the mission: get in, grab the Junkers, get out. If they're uncooperative, use whatever means necessary to retrieve them. Junkrat is your top priority. If you can only grab him, do it and get out. Everything else is secondary."

With that, Soldier 76 led the way out into the radiation-tainted landscape. Tracer dashed out just behind, easily blinking up to the front of the pack. She knew full well that she was the only one fast enough to get there in time, and she wasn't about to let her fear slow her down. She only hoped that she would be enough.

Roadhog stood on the edge of the ruined street, his Scrapgun loaded and ready in one hand, his hook gleaming menacingly in the other. Junkrat was set up further back, ducked behind a concrete barrier from where he could safely lob his grenades. He could hear the loose rattle of the younger man's prosthetic limbs as he shivered, though whether it was from the cold or in anticipation of the coming battle, Roadhog couldn't tell. A glance back at his charge was met by the intensely focused gaze of a pair of bright hazel eyes. Even Junkrat knew that this was the end of the road. As grateful as he was to see his eccentric employer taking the matter so seriously, it struck him as intensely wrong seeing such a deathly grave look on his face.

Roadhog's attention snapped back to the road ahead when the faint rumble of a pack of motorcycles faded in from the distance. He knew the sound well. The Queen was coming, and it sounded as though she had about four other bikes carrying her Enforcers following behind. He knew the formation they were in just by listening to how the engine sounds played off one another. They'd be rushing through, aiming to do as much drive-by damage as possible on their first pass, then coming back around to finish the job. It was a strategy right out of the Enforcer's playbook, most of which he wrote himself.

"Jamie," he called out softly, the thundering deepness of his voice carrying it through the air despite his almost-whispering, "You remember the plan, right?"

Junkrat seemed to hesitate a moment before replying, peeking over the edge of his concrete barrier.

"S-sure thing, mate! Everything's in place and ready to blow!"

The fact that he was willing to joke around about the situation was little comfort, especially with the panic-ridden laugh that followed. Roadhog let out a bitter sigh.

"Good. Go."

"Wh-what?!" Junkrat squeaked out in utter horror, "B-but they ain't even here yet! I thought that plan was only in case you couldn't—"

"Just do as I say," Roadhog interrupted, never turning to look back at his companion.

"But—"

"I said go! Now!"

Junkrat let out a yelp at the thunderous roar that cut him off once more. He stared for a moment at his bodyguard's broad back, ignoring the small fleet of bikes emerging over the horizon past him. He could feel his chest growing tight, his breaths coming out in quick, panicked puffs. No, he couldn't just leave! Not yet! They could still stand and fight!

Yet, even though he couldn't see Roadhog's face, his body language spoke volumes. The slope of his shoulders, the way he held his weapons… He was expecting to die here. What little heat his body still held onto seemed to drain from him in that instant. This was it, wasn't it? This was where it all came to an end. It didn't seem fair. Roadhog had fought so hard to keep him safe, how could he just leave him there to fight on his own? How could he possibly go on without the big lug at his side?

Of course, Junkrat knew better than most just how unfair life could be. There was nothing he could do about the current situation other than doing as he was told. After one last longing look back at his bodyguard, he finally left the safety of his concrete barrier and sprinted around to the side of the building where they'd stashed their motorcycle. He ripped off the tarp covering it and vaulted into the saddle. Sitting there in Roadhog's spot felt so wrong, but he didn't have time to dwell on it. The engine roared to life, spurred on as he operated the gas pedal added specially for him to be operated with his peg leg. He twisted the throttle, the rear wheel spinning for a moment in the snow before it found traction and rocketed forward, away from where his dearest friend stayed back to fight.

Roadhog let out a sigh when he finally heard the rumble of his chopper's engine start to grow more distant. This was the last thing he could do for his young charge, and he prayed to whatever god would listen that it would be enough.

He kept his prayers short, his attention soon returning to the danger fast approaching from ahead. Five motorcycles of the same salvaged construction as his own came barreling down the road towards him, each carrying a Junker Enforcer brandishing chains and clubs and other such weapons. Central among them was the Queen herself, her massive axe held effortlessly in one hand. Roadhog's finger tightened around the trigger of his Scrapgun, his hand squeezing at the handle of his hook. He was ready for them. He wasn't sure if he could keep them all at bay, but he sure as shit would make their life hell.

The attacking group drew ever nearer, yet Roadhog didn't so much as twitch a muscle. He stood still as a statue even after the Queen and her Enforcers got close enough for him to see the battle-hungry looks on their faces. If his plan were to work, he had to wait for the perfect moment.

Finally, over the deafening roar of the five motorcycles just meters in front of him, a roar greater still exploded into life behind him. He watched as the Enforcers' expressions shifted to that of utter shock as a huge yellow chopper vaulted into the air from somewhere behind Roadhog. All eyes were averted skyward as a mad cackle erupted from the driver of the bike.

"Surprise, fucksticks!" Junkrat cackled as the Enforcers broke rank in a panic, each swerving wildly to avoid being crushed by the renegade Junkers' vehicle. He landed with a rattling thud, zooming off towards Chernobyl before his pursuers could recover.

"After him, you daft cunts!" the Queen bellowed out, pivoting her own bike around to give chase once more. However, the words had hardly left her lips before a ball of scrap whizzed past her head to bury itself into the skull of one of her men. The poor fuck's body hardly had time to fall to the ground before she felt herself being yanked backwards off her bike.

She barely managed to get her feet under her in time to avoid the massive fist aimed for her head. She ducked under the blow, swinging her axe to slash upwards at her attacker. Roadhog was not so swift, but he managed to back away just enough to receive only a glancing blow across his stomach. It would probably screw up his tattoo a bit, but it wouldn't kill him. He was able to bring his Scrapgun up to bear before the Queen could get another strike in. The only thing stopping him from firing then and there was the blade of her axe held at his throat.

"This has been a long time coming, Mako," she began, staring down the gaping barrel aimed at her face as though it were nothing, "I dunno how that annoying little shitstain ever roped you into all this. You used to be the best damn Enforcer Junkertown ever had. Why throw that all away for some broken git like him?"

Roadhog stared down into the fierce eyes of his former boss, listening silently she made what he was sure would be the only chance she'd give him to end things peacefully. He probably would have rebuked the offer on principle, not being the type to take the pacifist route. Now, however, he had a slightly more substantial answer than a blunt "fuck you."

"Because broken gits like us deserve each other," came his rumbling reply before he finally squeezed the trigger.