Team Fortress 2 The Scout Novels & Stories

If my academic trajectory hadn't been derailed by the pack alliance, my wolf would be directing Skyfang Rift Engineering today. Scout units had become the single most dominant strategic advancement of our era, vital for territorial warfare, border defense, and tracking migratory game across the wilderness. Winters ago, my master professor had only agreed to sign my recommendation to the elite research sector because I had single-handedly designed and calibrated the internal core for the integrated Wraithfang Recon Unit, model U.N. It unified long-range endurance, heavy runic payloads, lightning speed, and automated celestial navigation—a breakthrough that had already altered the tide of real

“Like a present.” “Viking?” Zoe paused next to his work area, and he looked up from the butterfly tat that he was inking on a woman’s lower back, his red hair as wild as ever. “Can you listen for Keira? She’s sleeping, and I think she’s out for at least two hours, but can you just stay alert? I’ll be back in a few minutes.” “Two minutes,” Scars corrected her. “Scout’s Honor.” “You were a Boy Scout?” Zoe asked him skeptically. “Tidy little uniform and badges and making fire by rubbing two sticks together ?”

Yet, I was so wrong. When I saw Jackal that day, I saw something in him that made me back out and depart the room. A ray of light, though not a dazzling one, united Scarlet and Jerk. Looking into my clairvoyance, I realised I had underestimated my enemy. Not only was he linked to Scarlet, possibly someone she had known when young, he was also not an ordinary human.

— Pilot: Tourniquet Role: Advanced Reconnaissance Loadout: Federal Shipyards “Prowler” Light Scout Chassis [B] Myrmidon Technology “Longbow” Modular Rifle Platform [B] Federal Shipyards “Adjudicator” Electromace [B] Federal Shipyards “Eagle Eyes” DeepScan Sensor Suite (SM) [A] — Tourniquet advanced forward cautiously in the Dark Forest, hyper aware of his surroundings. He was, after all, deep in enemy lines. His sensors were on full blast, but in a very narrow cone aimed straight at Xylo.

"The sweeper. What's he packing?" "Concealed piece under the uniform jacket," the scout said, adjusting his lens. "Small frame. Probably a subcompact." "How's his movement?" "Predictable as hell," the scout snorted. "He’s been sweeping the same ten yards of asphalt for twenty minutes. Checks his watch every four minutes on the dot." Takahashi’s operatives were getting sloppy, acting like the pavement already belonged to them. "They're staring right at Dominic," the scout whispered. "Good. Let them eat the bait," Hugo said, leaning over the concrete ledge. "We learn their habits, we map their spots, and then we erase them."

"This is scout gear. High-level scout gear. Who taught you to use this?" "I taught myself while I was busy not being dead." Joshua shoved the kit into his pack. He didn't look at Richard. He walked to the edge of the road, where the asphalt turned into a muddy slope. He knelt, his fingers tracing a deep indentation in the sludge. "What is it?" Richard was behind him, his hand hovering over his own hip where a silver-burn was still pulsing red. "Look at the depth," Joshua said, pointing to a set of paw prints. "Four inches deep. Wide splay on the pads. That’s a lead scout from the Northern Tundra pack. They’re heavy, built for snow, but they’re fast in the mud."

Some kind of gravity urges me to lean into him, but I don’t dare. Eventually, he clears his throat and meets my eyes again. “When we scout, we go in pairs,” he says. “We could do that. We could be scouts together.” I understand what he’s saying. If we’re going to do this—and we have to do this—it can’t be like before. There can’t be a bad guy. So we’ll be in it together. “Okay. How do scouts work?” Some tension leaves his body. “Well, usually, one of us keeps an eye out for threats while the other looks for signs of prey.”

"No contact?" The lead scout shook his head. "No rogues." A pause. "But we found more tracks." The atmosphere tightened immediately. "Same area?" The scout nodded. "And another marker." Silence. The Hollow Alpha again. Always watching. Always reminding. As though he wanted the territory to know he remained there. Waiting. The scout handed over a small wooden piece. Unlike the previous marker, this one had broken away from a larger sign. Words had been carved across its surface.

The Friction of the First Strike Ethan met the first scout in the "Labyrinth" of the kitchen. The scout was a "Functional Asset" of the Russian Syndicate, trained in "Subway Violence" and "Total Sector Purges." He lunged with a "Kinetic" combat knife, his movements a "Calculating" blur.

Her eyes stung from all the dust and crying and she looked to Omar for help. "Tawaqaf! (Stop!) What are you doing?!" Omar desperately wanted to put a thousand bullets into Taheem's robotic head. He was so angry that he felt his eyes begin to tear up. "Taheem is only holding back, doesn't mean he wouldn't. You've seen what he can do, haven't you?" Omar knew, he had seen the man kill without emotions and without remorse. One word of approval from the Sheikh and Taheem would not hesitate.