Rooftop Rendezvous

The Parks helped Hana down off the table while she trembled like a leaf. The process of cumming in front of these despicable, perverted men filled her with shame, but, she reasoned, it was for a greater good, and she intended to get her **** on these 'benefactors' besides. They fetched her a towel to drape over herself and thanked her profusely for her efforts, then sat her down and begab to explain. What followed was a complex plan involving discrediting Overwatch's public image via disruptive 'PR bombs' like the campaign they'd enacted against Hana. The name Talon came up more than once, and those were the parts Hana took the most notice of. They talked of internal disputes and slow payment between the Parks and their 'benefactors' within the terrorist organisation, which Hana silently nodded her way through. Finally, after what felt like a very long time indeed, a specific name came up, and the mention of it made Hana clench her fist in rage.

"Widowmaker," Hana repeated. "She's your contact?"

"Indeed," Joon-Ku said. "She is the one you seek, if you wish to punish the truest culprit."

"She...recorded me at HQ...sent you that footage..." she shivered at the memory of herself, nude and dancing fifty feet high all around that square. Hana stared at the floor, mulling things over. This couldn't stand, she decided. With Winston's help, she'd set things right; in fact, she already had a few ideas. She raised her head, brushed her hair back out of her face, fixing the Brothers with a look of determination. "Where can I find her?" She asked. The Brothers exchanged another look, then nodded to each other. "The Seoul Hilton." Joon-Sup replied.

"She will be expecting you, though." Joon-Ku said.

"Good," Hana growled. "It won't save her, either way..."

                                    *
                       Fourty Minutes Later

She'd left the Park Brothers as cordially as she could, given what they'd seen of her. They'd given her an ill-fitting pair of slacks she had to cinch tight about her waist with a belt, and a loud paisley shirt whose sleeves she needed to roll up a dozen times just to make the thing wearable, but they were clothes, at the absolute least. While in no position to deal with them now, she made a mental note to come back for them with the full might of Overwatch at her back—they weren't exactly the masterminds behind this whole scheme, but they were still partially to blame for it. From there she returned to the car and drove downtown, stopping off to 'procure' a phone from a cheap third-party shop while the cashier wasn't looking and repeating the process of contacting Winston via Overwatch HQ's phone line. She didn't bother explaining the specifics of how the MEKA was destroyed and what came after, instead focusing on the situation vis a vis Widowmaker and Talon's involvement. "Can you really handle this alone, Hana? After all you've been through today..."

"Firstly: I can handle myself just fine, Winston. Secondly: I'm not alone, I have you."

"Me? Well, how can I help?"

"It's simple: Get in contact with every news org you can get hold of, tell them to be at the Seoul Hilton's roof within the next hour or so."

"O-of course, Hana...but may I ask why?"

"I'm gonna put on a show for them," she said. "Eye for an eye, Winston. Eye for an eye." With that, she hung up, then started the car back up and punched in directions for the Seoul Hilton on the phone's GPS app.

                                     *

One Hour, Twenty Minutes Later

Hana stepped out onto the roof, the moon high and sharply crescented far above. She looked around, and toward the northeastern-facing side, she spotted a silhouette, tall and statuesque against the glittering Seoul skyline. "I thought I'd find you up here." She called out.

There was a pause, then, in thickly-accented Korean. "The ideal Sniper's nest. Am I truly that obvious?"

"Always." Hana replied, walking closer. The figure turned—the hips, the legs, the hourglass proportions...all of it almost seeming to taunt her. Widowmaker smiled a thin, cold smile. "Bonjour, D.Va."