Overwatch Morrison Novels & Stories

Levi Morrison was waiting in the service drive, just inside the first break in the perimeter. He had the posture of a man who’d done this at least a dozen times before breakfast: boots planted in frost-killed grass, arms folded, tactical duffel at his feet. If he’d noticed the cold, he didn’t show it. He looked me up and down. “I told you not to wear anything that would make you a target.” I glanced down. I was in black jeans, an old crew neck, and the kind of jacket you buy from an army surplus bin for fifteen bucks. “Pretty sure it’s a step up from the last time you saw me.”

'Here you are after destroying so many lives, still pretty and glowing with the resplendent history of bad deeds and torture. There had been an utter hatred in his voice as Morris could not help himself nut feel resentment. 'I wish you never wake up because you are no less than a monster who would just wake up to stir a huge chaos once again. My friend is so innocent, Kazen, he could not decipher your tricks before and look at him…." Morris turned around and grabbed his small bag to take out a stethoscope while in the process he encountered Ekai's anxious and eager face, sure enough the mafia lord wanted her to wake up as soon as possible because it was becoming hard for him to stay away fro

Roarke Mark existed and was still running, its access to the Aldrich records intact, the record of Lissa Heyden's discretionary expenditures accumulating in its files with the patient indifference of a system that didn't know it was at the center of anything. Morrison. He'd tried twice more before the clinic visit, the day the nausea had crested into something he could no longer manage without intervention. Both messages unread. The number still active — his contact had confirmed that much, the number was live, it was receiving signal — but nothing returned, nothing, three weeks of nothing that was its own form of communication but that he couldn't yet read cleanly. Morrison going quiet coul

Lena smirked as we approached each other. “I’m fine,” I replied. “It hadn’t exactly been a walk in the park.” “I didn’t expect it to,” she replied. “You guys got something?” “Not something enough to work with,” I replied. “But it’s something we can use. Elora said our guy’s name is Morgeaus. The one that runs the show.” “Never heard of the name,” she replied, then pressed a thumb on my forehead. “I need to establish a mindlink with you, and keep you from being detected. Watching you from the mirror is quite stressful.”

"Sorry to interrupt, but we've got company. Alpha Morrison is back and he's brought half his pack with him." "Tell him to wait." Ryder doesn't take his eyes off me. "We're not done here." "Actually." I square my shoulders. "Let's see Morrison. I need practice dealing with manipulative alphas before I face my father." Knox grins. "That's my Luna." We head to the conference room where Morrison is waiting with ten of his wolves. He stands when we enter, all practiced charm and political calculation. "Moonfire Luna." He bows slightly. "Thank you for seeing me."

He grinned at her in a way she could only describe as predatory. "Who are you?" Liv tried to stand, but was still unable to make it to her feet. Her head swam from the blow to her head. "Come now, beauty. Let me help you." The strange man lifted her by the armpits and walked her to a fur covered chair near a table. "I am Killian O'Mara of the Blackfoot Pack," he said with the slightest Irish lilt to his voice. He gave her a courtly little bow before sitting in the chair across the table from her.

“A woman who has chosen hiding rather than family, you came to play the good guy?” “No.” I tilted my head. “I came to warn you.” His wolf bristled. “About what?” “You’re playing a cold game,” I whispered, stopping his wolf with a flick of my finger. “And you’re losing. You are just failing to see it.” The silence that followed was thick, suffocating even for them. Lorenzo’s voice dropped, dangerous. “To who?” “Xavier Blackthorn.” I locked eyes with him. “And Valerie. The Luna you’re underestimating more than anyone. The weak pawn that you think you can play.”

He bellowed and she swallowed thickly. He dragged her into the woods and halted once they reached an old warehouse. Hunter noticed a dead body near the door and his posture shifted to lethal. He was holding her wrist, not letting go. Once he got closer his eyes widened when he realized that the dead body belonged to one of the warriors from his pack and that wasn't it. There was a scent of blood in the air as viciousness gripped his soul. An ominous aura radiated off of him in waves.

"The individual is someone you know." I sat very still. "Tell me," I said. Morrison said the name. I stared at the wall in front of me. Not the club. Not our program. Not anyone I had been watching. Someone in Morrison's own operation. Someone who had been in every significant meeting for the last eight months. Someone whose access to the investigation status had been entirely legitimate and entirely invisible because nobody had been looking at them. Agent Carla Voss.

With the wolfsbane in his system, he doesn't heal as fast. -"If you are here, who's the other guy?" I ask, confused. -"A copycat. I can't believe you guys got tricked by such a bad-looking copy. I am much handsome. Right, babe?" He forces a weak giggle. Now, this is the real Morris. His humor sets him apart from anyone else out there. He is injured yet still manages to pull out a joke. -"Can't believe they fooled us so easily, and you have been here captive all this time. I am truly sorry." I say incredulously, not knowing what else to say.