In Need of Assistance? (TF2)

Twenty-Six: Fear

"Hur, mmfur-puhpheh," Pyro adds, sighing.

Sniper hums. "Round and round we go, where his bloody head will land, no one knows."

Pyro shoots out his ax sideways and I follow up with an impulsive swing, hitting the spy in the arm. He heaves, pulling a kitchen knife out of his pocket of all places and charging at me. I sidestep and he rushes Sniper instead, pinning him to the barrier. They struggle as Sniper pushes back on him, and Pyro runs up behind them. He gets smacked away immediately. Sniper leans backward, keeping his balance by using his free hand to tightly grip the bar. I muster all of the momenta I can and fling my arms to the side, getting the most bang for my buck and helping Sniper regain his bearings as the brother receives a pole to the neck with a chilling crunch! The cylinder flies out of my hand and into the great open, Pyro and I glancing at each other which the same idea. Pyro picks him up by the back of his shirt, and I lift his legs over my shoulders, bringing him to the edge.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Hey, hey!" He struggles in our grip, "Why- wh-why not just kill me?"

"What's the matter, can't swim?" I ask rhetorically, digging my fingernails into his calves.

"Listen, hey, don't you hate killing people?" He frantically pants. "You hate killing people, this would be you killing me, c'mon, Mona!"

"That's Miss Fredrickson to you, and you're not dead. Yet," I reason. "I'm not killing you, the impact of you hitting the water is. Even then, if you do survive, it could be drowning or whatever creature happens upon you at this time of night that does it. I'm more afraid of house foreclosure and the IRS than you."

"Don't worry you piker," Sniper brightly retorts. "I hear that the gulf is home to lots of lovely kinds of sharks. It'll probably be quick for you, hear they like fresh chum. That wound on your chest is defo a bloody dead giveaway, mate."

"I can, I can tell you things! Give you stuff! Just, just, just not the ocean, I swear," he pleads as Pyro puts his arms around his waist to help me with his weight.

"Whaddya got?" I question. "Make it quick, or else my grip just might slip. I am just a tiny woman after all."

"A tiny little woman," Sniper corrects.

"Yeah, sorry. A tiny little woman with bars of soap for hands."

"Okay, okay! Your friends in the brig? They're going to be killed tomorrow at the end of the day after the Peytons use enhanced interrogation." He breaks immediately.

"Torture," Sniper replaces his words.

"Why would they need to be tortured?" I continue our own enhanced interrogation.

"I don't know, those guys are sick fucks! They already thought it a good idea to double-cross Helen, I think they're just insane, now put me down!"

I glance at Sniper and his eyes dart to the water for a split second before back at me, widening with raised eyebrows. "Anything else you got for us, wanker?"

"No! That's all I have, I swear!"

"Mrr-hmmph huh heh puddah hah," Pyro says with varying degrees of anger.

"Pyro's right," Sniper crosses his arms. "So you just weren't gonna tell us about the undercover mercenaries that are on your crew?"

He shakes his head. I roll my eyes. "Alright, it looks to be the trenches for you, bud."