#sniper problems

Jack’s lips compressed into a thin line of annoyance or amusement. Ana wasn’t sure which. “And Rodriguez?” 

“Nobody likes him,” Ana countered without missing a beat. The man was insufferable and overbearing, everything she hated. “He’s a know-it-all who refused to back down. I gave him multiple warnings, then when he refused to move, I took the shot anyway.” 

Chuckling under his breath, Jack lifted a report from his desk. His eyes scanned down the document. Ana assumed it was a list of names, and while she couldn’t read them, she saw the damning black ink through the pale paper. “What about Smith?”

Frowning, Ana tried to conjure an image to match the name. When she offered a blank look, Jack sighed and shook his head. “The new agent in Cairo? It was his second mission.”

“It was through and through,” Ana interrupted, fighting to suppress a smile at the memory. The boy had been so young and eager, dangerously so. He needed to learn to listen to his superiors. “He bled a little, and we bagged the Talon operative. That was a victory, and you know it.” 

The smile that Jack had been fighting against finally tugged at the corners of his lips. Then, he raised a hand to brush fingers over his left shoulder. His eyes took on a far away look, undoubtedly recalling some memory. “What about Paris?” 

Ana flashed her most ingratiating smile, remembering Jack’s grunt of pain in her ear. “Honestly, I thought you’d move. Besides, with all those chemicals they pumped into your bloodstream, you and Gabriel hardly count. If I recall correctly, you were completely healed before we got to evac.”

Jack nodded and laid the report back on his desk. Ana wondered why it had been printed instead of sent digitally, then decided that it didn’t matter. Obviously she’d had enough friendly fire incidents that someone higher up than Jack had finally noticed. Either that, or Angela had complained about having to patch up Overwatch soldiers after missions with their sniper. Either way, Ana’s record spoke for itself: the ends justified the means. She was hardly careless with people’s lives and had saved far more than she ended. . 

Jack steepled his fingers together, looking far more serious than Ana had seen in a long time. “We brought your rifle in for some modifications--”.

“You did what?” Ana thundered, momentarily forgetting to keep her voice to a respectful level. Nobody touched her gun without her permission. Jack knew that; they’d had plenty of conversations on that subject over the years. 

Jack held up a hand to settle the angry words and the building fury before they could explode. Ana bit her tongue as the explanation stumbled out. “What I meant to say is there’s been an adjustment to your ammunition. Someone with a much higher IQ than mine created rounds that recognize the difference between friendly and hostile targets.”

“I--wait, how is that even possible?” Science had expanded significantly over the past ten years, but Ana couldn’t imagine that level of intelligence being imprinted into a bullet. It seemed like a terrible idea to make weapons even more powerful than they already were. 

“No idea,” Jack admitted with a self-deprecating laugh. “It has something to do with biotic markers injected into Overwatch agents before missions? The explanation was far above my pay grade.” 

Ana hummed, wondering if anything was really that far above Jack’s position. Of course, he didn’t have to understand the details of something to approve of the concept. He offered a printout that detailed the new weaponry. Ana skimmed over the explanation, then grinned. “So basically, you’re encouraging me to shoot everyone without prejudice?” 

“I--no, that’s not what we’re saying at all.” Jack frowned, clearly trying to determine if the words were a joke. Deciding to err on the side of caution, he continued. “We are minimizing our damages in the field by introducing a healing mechanic to your rifle.” 

“Angela explained it to you, didn’t she?” Ana guessed, hearing the medic’s words clearly coming from Jack’s mouth. She waved him off before he could answer. “It's fine, I don’t care who came up with it. What really matters is have they made similar ammo for my handgun yet?” 

Jack started to speak, then stopped as he considered the question. The frown lines around his  mouth deepened as he tried to figure out the angle. “Why would you need something like that for close range combat?”