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Blackwatch Chapter 2: The Captain's Den

09:34 AM, Local Time

Kinshasa, Democratic Republic of the Congo

May, 2018

It was just a couple of days later before Ray was called in for his second mission. It was abrupt and direct when the Embassy called him while he was in bed during the morning. After their usual process; debrief, preparation and a flight in the C130 the night before, he and the team arrived at their destination for their mission. From what Ray’s heard, the team were in a town near Kinshasa to scout out their target who is a leader of a militia that runs this town.

The team positioned themselves at an abandoned warehouse built on the hills, 100 meters away from the bustling town. Their target was at a large, heavily guarded mansion placed in the middle of the town. Armed trigger-happy men with standard weaponry were found patrolling the mansion’s gate and the yards. Everybody else that wasn’t busy other than Reaper and McCree sat back and waited while some made some double checks with their guns to pass the time. Others did what they usually did.

“I bet he’s feelin’ real comfy living down there.” McCree muttered, holding the SOFLAM which was attached to a tripod along with a laser directed at the mansion.

“For a tyrannical nut job, he sure does like to hide behind innocent people.” Reaper replied.

“Least the blast radius ain’t near anybody, from what I can see.”

And he was right. There didn’t seem to be any sight of civilians, other than buildings that were around the mansion.

“Shadow 1, this is Pinball. Closing in on target. ETA one minute, over.” The drone pilot tasked in bombing the mansion said as if he was on a rush.

Reaper lowered the binoculars he was using. “Copy. Target’s still inbound, out.”

While the two kept watch, Ray wasn’t that enthusiastic of the current plan.

“I don’t understand,” he said. “Why can’t we just go in there and take him out right now? Would save us a lot of time.”

“Orders. That’s why.” Reaper answered.

“And we’re just gonna let these video gamers drop a bomb from a drone when there’s a possibility the target could still be alive?”

“Don’t be an idiot, rookie,” Sombra snapped. “The reason we’re not down there is because we weren’t told to go down there.”

Shortly, Reaper caught sight of a small missile from the sky, descending through the clouds and targeting right at the mansion. Not a second later, the missile landed on the mansion and everything went loud. The blast erupted and large puffs of smoke covered the mansion and around it. The shockwave radius reached the town but it wasn’t enough to hurt anybody. Nobody was guaranteed to survive such blast inside.

“Pinball, this is Shadow 1,” Reaper said. “Strike on target successful. I repeat, strike on target successful, over.”

“Copy, Shadow 1,” Pinball replied. “Drone’s pulling out.”

His communication with Pinball cut off. Reaper placed the binoculars and his HK416 into his gobag and got up.

“Alright team, pack it up. We’re leaving.” Reaper ordered.

The team started to gather their belongings while McCree disassembled the SOFLAM. As the team packed their things, Ray looked over to the window where the smoke made itself the spot of attraction. He still felt that uneasiness tingle his body. Ray still thought they should’ve just busted into the mansion and take everybody out. That would’ve saved plenty of time instead of sitting at the back and watching drones do the job. But if he had a say, he would take it up to the chairpersons. And it was not easy to chat with the tops about his complaints.

10:57 PM, Local Time

Rome, Italy

Via Margutta

After another long flight back to Rome, the team were dismissed once they arrived at the Embassy. Ray walked out of the building and hitched a taxi nearby. He stopped a few meters away, paid the driver and walked the rest home. The town was quiet as usual. The lamps illuminated the narrow street as Ray walked past the closed cafes and stores, alone while holding his backpack in the mildly warm night. The trees and the espaliers surrounding the street rustled to the quiet wind. If he had some free time, Ray would visit the Piazza del Popolo for some photos and maybe the Colosseum if he had further time. He arrived at the apartment he rented down at Via Margutta and opened the door, which let a rusty creak spread through the corridor.

The light inside was making Ray drowsy, especially with the jet lag. But he was already used to it by then. He had been thinking of his wife, Dahlia for a while. He hasn’t heard from her since his arrival at Rome. Maybe she had been busy at work. Who knows. She may have written a letter sent to him. Ray went up to the mailboxes and unlocked one of them open and to his surprise, there was something sent to him.

It was only an orange folder and nothing else. Ray took it out and looked at it. It was thin and soft to the touch. There was nothing written on it. No message, just a pasted sticker embroidered with his name and address of his rented apartment. He took it with him on the way back to his unit.

As he closed the door, Ray ripped open the folder while walking up the stairs. Tossing his keys into a small basket in the kitchen, he looked inside the folder. There was only an envelope inside. When he pulled it out, he noticed a folded piece of paper attached to the envelope wrapped by a yellow rubber band. He slipped the paper off and unfolded it, finding a written paragraph. And it was for him:

Ray,

Please understand this is for the best of our future. I can no longer be a wife to a soldier who would risk his life out in the field. Please don’t waste your time to call or look for me just to bring us back. It won’t work. I'm sorry for doing this to you but you must understand that you were never going to leave this life and you never will. I hope you find someone who would accept you as you are.

And while you’re at it, please don’t get yourself killed.

Dahlia

Ray couldn’t express it but he felt heartbreak inside him. The hole was empty again. It was as if his life was being tossed into the ocean and left to rot on the bottom of the sea. But she was right. There was no way he could leave his life as a soldier on the field. He already made that choice and there was no going back. Ray didn’t know what was making him stay but he knew it was something about the rush.

Lowering the letter down, Ray looked at the envelope he was still holding. He placed the letter on the dinner table and opened up the envelope where he pulled out a single sheet of folded paper. After opening it up, he stared down at the contents of the paper, one word that stood out the most.

Divorce

11:04 PM, Local Time

Rome, Italy

Vicolo Cellini

A metallic tap as McCree clinked his glass of beer against Sombra’s, frothy layers of bubbles gushed around the rim before they both took a swig. After being dismissed, they both decided to go out together and get some drinks down at a bar around Vicolo Cellini. They’ve been doing this ever since she joined Blackwatch. McCree found her easy to get along as they shared similar pasts.

The bar was small but enough to fit a soccer team, especially during the brink of midnight. Around the two, bar-goers downed their drinks and mingled amongst each other or to themselves while Italian music blared from one of the portable speakers, loud enough to drown out the chatter. The lighting inside was as if it was a flashy nightclub. As they talked about the usual things, Sombra told him of a mission she did while she was in the NSA. From what McCree’s heard, the NSA was investigating a Mexican energy company for embezzlement, bribery, anything else that was dodgy as hell. McCree had heard on the news about the data leak which tainted its reputation but he never who did it. Until now.

“So let me get this straight. You were the one who exposed Guillermo Portero, the CEO of LumériCo for fraud, right?” He asked.

“Hell yeah, it was,” Sombra replied. “Leaked every dirt of that cabrón everywhere on the internet, including lawsuits on the company that have been buried for the past decade. I almost got chewed out by my boss for being reckless.”

“Instead you got a promotion or somethin’?”

“Yeah, you could say that. And guess what else I did once I was done?”

“What?”

“You know those videos of Portero doing the nasty on several Latinas in a yacht?”

“Yeah?” He replied. However, he began to realize something from Sombra’s tilting head and her growing smirk. “That was you? You leaked those videos?”

Sombra gives out a nod and McCree started to laugh.

“I’m starting to see why people like you a lot!” He said.

“Yeah, you should hear what the President of Mexico had to say about him!” Sombra replied.

The night passed and more drinks were downed, shifting from beers to some more intense drinks. McCree was surprised a girl like Sombra was able to take that much cognac and not get intoxicated. He knew her for two years and of all the women he knew, Sombra was by far the soberest drinking partner he ever met. Not to mention the number of drinks she had the first time he took her out for the night. As she took a swig of her cognac, McCree poured himself another glass of Jim Beam and downed it completely as usual.

"Hey, vaquero. Wanna bet?" Sombra asked.

McCree nodded. “Shoot."

"That the new guy won’t last another mission."

He chuckled, taking it as a joke. His face was just about red as a dust storm.

"You're pulling my chain, right?" McCree said.

"No, I'm serious," she replied. "I’m betting a hundred bucks that this idiota won’t be around by the next day.”

When McCree looked up at her, his grin began to fade. She was smirking but her face wasn’t flushed nor did she look drunk. She was enthusiastic about it but in a completely wrong way.

“Y-you’re for real?” He asked.

Sombra hummed, nodding. McCree was speechless at this point he couldn’t find the words he needed.

“I...umm…”

“Come on! Don’t tell me you like that new guy, do you?”

McCree let out a sigh and leaned towards her. Even though he was half-drunk, McCree still kept his sober ego together.

“I don’t get it, Sombra. Like, what’s your problem with the rookie anyway? I mean, he’s been doing a fine job so far. It’s not like he’s done anything wrong to you.”

Sombra suddenly went quiet. Her smirk faded away but her eyes tried its best to hide her grief. That gave McCree time to figure out what’s up.

“Unless...it’s about him. Isn’t it?”

Sombra sighed as if she already had this kind of conversation before.

“You wouldn’t understand.” She said, looking away from him.

“Well, I do understand wishing for someone who’s done nothing wrong to die ain’t no way to make things better.”

“It's just-” Sombra threw her arms up and flapped them onto the table in submission. “I just don’t get why we need a new guy for this team. Nico was already good enough. We don’t need anybody else to replace him.”

“Point taken but still, wishing for someone to die ain’t gonna fix anything.” McCree said.

Sombra didn’t respond. Normally, she was more comfortable with McCree ever since she joined two years ago. Something was up with her but McCree couldn’t figure out what it was and why. But from what he’s seeing, Sombra didn’t look to be in the mood to protest or listen to anymore from him. She downed her cognac and stood up, pushing the chair back.

“I gotta go. See you around, McCree.” She said while turning away.

McCree watched Sombra head out to the front door before disappearing outside. As the loud Italian music continued to play and bar-goers droned on, McCree looked down at the bottle of Jim Beam placed near the unfinished cognac. He sighed as he poured himself another glass. By the next morning, he probably wouldn’t remember the number of drinks he had.

06:30 AM, Local Time

Rome, Italy

Embassy of the United States

Unlike everybody else, Genji was sharply earlier than his team. He didn’t blame them. He was still used to the usual routine during his time at the yakuza. How long was it since he talked about his life as a son of a brutal yakuza leader? Genji never wanted to talk about it, especially about that time when he tried to stop his brother from killing him. Any question that was related to his past, Genji would shut it down before they could even finish.

He sat down on a chair with his mug of tea and his phone, sinking down onto the seat’s cushion material. Straightening his posture, Genji set his tea on the table and opened up the messaging app on his phone.

Genji [6:31]: How did the self-defense lesson go yesterday?

It took a moment for his friend to respond.

Angela [6:33]: pretty well, thanks for asking. Me and Fareeha sparred to wrap up the day.

Genji [6:33]: that’s good to hear. You always wanted to learn how to protect yourself.

Angela [6:34]: yeah, a doctor’s gotta have a hobby, right?

Genji softly chuckled to himself as he grabbed his tea from the table and took a short sip.

“How’s it that you’re always the first one here?”

Genji looked up and noticed Marvel standing near the doorframe, wearing a navy polo shirt with matching jeans and a black cap on top. A jacket was draped over his right forearm. He didn’t hear him open the door, let alone know he was there.

“When you’re a warrior, you follow the rules that apply. Being tardy is one that is not taken lightly.” Genji said.

Marvel nodded slightly. “I see you live up to some strict rules. ”

“That’s how it is when you’re raised as a Shimada.”

Genji placed his mug back on the table and looked back to his phone. The door closed as he looked away. Once he checked, there was a new message.

Angela [6:35]: still in Rome, I assume?

Genji quickly typed up his reply.

Genji [6:35]: Yes. Might have to stay for another month.

He pressed send. It let out a high pitched tone from the phone, loud enough to catch someone’s attention.

“Who are you texting?” Marvel asked.

“A friend.” Genji replied without looking up.

“Friend? Never knew you had friends.”

Genji glanced up, facing his eyes. “Everybody has one.”

“Makes sense.”

Genji looked away from Marvel and drank his tea. At this point, he wasn’t up for a conversation. He was always that kind of person who preferred the silence.

“Guess I’ll just grab myself a snack,” Marvel said. “I’ll leave you with your friend.”

Genji drank his tea as Marvel walked away with his hands in his pockets. Once the door closed, he looked up from his phone. The room was once again empty except for Marvel’s jacket draped over one of the chairs. Genji looked around briefly before facing the screen of his phone, finding another message in front of him.

Angela [6:36]: got to go. Patient just got admitted in

Genji [6:36]: alright. See you soon.

He slipped his phone back into his pockets when there was no response.

8:11 AM, Local Time

Reaper entered the meeting room with Widowmaker where Major Salvatore waited for them. There was another operation for them, although they already completed one yesterday. The desk that was in the middle had two folders placed for the two. They sat down and opened up their folders. The photo attached to the papers showed a black and white picture of a man in his mid-50s with a plump head topped with a black beret and a short sleeve cargo shirt sitting on his wide shoulders. The same man from Kinshasa.

“What’s this, Major? We already killed this guy.” Reaper asked, holding out the folder.

“That’s what I’m about to explain, Reyes,” Salvatore said. “As you can see, your target has cheated death. Mwikiza Bodho AKA. Captain Congo was supposed to be taken out by the drone strike yesterday morning. However, our team managed to dig into the reports from the Kinshasa police and no documents related to his death can be found.”

“So he was never at the mansion?”

“No, he was but we believe he managed to slip away with a severe amount of burns.”

“Did you check again?”

Salvatore nodded. “Yes but to no avail. As I was saying, intel analysts has picked up some satellite images and found him getting his wounds treated at an elementary school several miles away from Kinshasa which was abandoned during the Second Congo War and is now being used as the militia’s stronghold.”

“How many men are in there protecting him?” Widowmaker asked.

“Seven or more. There’s a possibility there’s going to be more men to pick him up once he’s finished treatment.”

“Let me guess. Another drone strike?” Reaper sunk back and crossed his arms.

“No. This time, your team is going there to kill him in person so you can remind Bodho nobody’s untouchable.”

“That shoulda been the final decision in the first place, rather than a damn drone.”

“I’m with Gabriel on this one but the drone strike took a big toll on Bodho’s army.” Widowmaker said.

“Well, now’s your chance to retire Bodho for good,” Salvatore replied. “This is a six-man-team mission, on the ground and as always, keep it as quiet as possible. This must not be traced back to us.”

02:43 AM, Local Time

Kinshasa, Democratic Republic of the Congo

Arriving at Kinshasa was no different from yesterday. The team geared up on helmets fitted with night vision goggles, plate carriers and suppressed UMP-45s for their mission. Widowmaker however brought her personal rifle while Marvel took a Glock 17 with an Osprey suppressor and a flashlight attachment with him. They boarded the MI-24W stationed for them with their pilot inside and flew off to their destination. The helicopter hovered over the barely lit streets loudly but their altitude was high enough to avoid disturbing the peaceful night.

As time passed, the helicopter flew past the quiet houses a few meters near the forest. The team was mostly quiet throughout the flight. Ray stared at the ground of the helicopter, listening to the muffled rotors flapping from above. Out of all the team, he was dead quiet for the entire day. It was unusual for him. Maybe he was feeling down throughout the entire day. Maybe it was the divorce papers he had to sign while sustaining painful emotions.

“Hey, rookie.”

Ray looked up, back into the real world and turned to McCree beside him.

“You good?”

Ray nodded, trying his best not to blurt out his dejection.

“Listen, if you’re still pissed about not going in and killing that Congo pal in person, this mission will make it up to you.”

He nodded again and looked away. “I’m okay. Just wanna concentrate on the mission.”

Ray didn’t hear from McCree afterwards. He didn’t want to let personal matters get in the way of his job. He had a mission to do and thinking about something too personal would endanger not only him but his team. Ray may feel like he let his wife down but if there’s one thing he can try to do, he would keep himself safe.

Few minutes later, they arrived at their destination near a deserted village. The helicopter slowly lowered down to the ground, sweeping dust and dead grass with the rotors. The headlights shone upon a rusted sign planted near the gates: Numbani Elementary School. The doors slid open and the team hopped out with their weapons ready. Ray got out last. Shortly, the helicopter lifted up and flew away from their sight.

“Let’s go.” Reaper ordered, leading the team.

Ray jogged after the team past the front gate, taking them to a long, narrow path with trees and bushes surrounding them. As they trekked up a small hill, faint chirps and croaking noises echoed through the bush. Shortly, they arrived at the main gate of the school with the sign next to it bigger than the one from the entrance.

The school’s entrance was completely empty and poorly lit, the team had to put on their night vision goggles. The schoolyard at the front was filled with dead trees and overgrown grass. Several tents, weapon crates, power generators with scattered cords and banners were placed at the playground. A couple of vehicles were parked around the yard. Some of the scribbled drawings and paintwork of the school buildings have outgrew itself, degrading its colour and any soul it once had. As the team advanced through the yard, they closed in towards one of the classroom buildings with their weapons raised.

“Shadow 2, take the Overwatch position by the classroom building to your east.” Reaper ordered.

“Copy.” She replied and moved away from the team.

While Widowmaker headed towards the other classroom building, the rest of the team went up the stairs leading to the door entrance. McCree and Marvel approached the door entrance and stopped. McCree pushed the door open, letting out a typical creaking noise. The team passed them by, entering the school building. McCree and Marvel entered last once everybody else was in.

“Genji, take point.” Reaper said.

The masked Japanese nodded and moved past Reaper, leading the way. The hallway was pitch black empty with small chunks of rubble scattered around each corner. There were several classrooms on each side with broken windows, rusted lockers and overturned furniture. As they moved cautiously, the team heard muffled voices above them, through the thin ceiling. Ray noticed a blood trail on the floor which lead to the left in front of them.

The team followed Genji who was tracking down the blood trail, taking them up the half-paced staircase. Ray looked around and discovered a bloodied handprint stamped on the wall next to him. While they made their way to the upper floor, Ray looked behind his shoulders with doubt before turning away.

The team approached down the hallway of the upper floor where there was a hanging pipe on the ceiling. Shortly, Genji stopped by the classroom to their left where the blood trail ended. Muffled voices were heard from the room. The team stacked up beside the door slowly to avoid applying pressure to the creaky wooden floor. After a countdown to three by Reaper, he moved aside and kicked the door open.

The team stormed in one by one, opening fire on the surprised soldiers. They gunned down several of them who were unprepared. Ray didn’t notice any sign of their target. Two remaining soldiers managed to dive away from the gunfire and entered another room to their right. Reaper and McCree quickly ran up to the door and stacked up next to it. Ray was just approaching the door when he heard something assemble loudly. And then there was a kachunk. Reaper was quick to realize what it was.

“Incoming!” He yelled.

Ray had just heard him before he was suddenly pulled away by the collar. Before he knew it, .50 cal bullets penetrated through the door. It shredded the wooden door apart within minutes.

“Holy shit!” Ray heard Marvel say through the gunfire.

For a band of working class goons, the militia were quite stacked. That machine gun was strong enough to outnumber a small convoy in an open area. Suddenly, the firing ceased and loud clicks followed up. There was then desperate voices from the other room. Guess not every African militia knows how to handle a machine gun and the fact they’re taking their sweet ass time fixing their gun gave the team a chance to retaliate.

Reaper took a grenade from his vest, pulled the pin off and threw it through the gap of the shredded door. As the grenade rolled down, the voices rocketed from struggle to panic accompanied by frantic footsteps. Then, an explosion erupted and the noises stopped. Reaper and McCree stormed in and cleared the area, taking out the remaining soldiers hiding behind desks with several weapon crates on it. Ray followed Genji and Marvel inside as they checked the corners. Ray found the DSHK machine gun on the ground with the bipod scattered around the plastered floor.

“Clear!” McCree called out.

“Any sign of the HVT?” Reaper asked.

“Negative!”

Ray walked past McCree and went out of the classroom, stopping by the hallway. He glanced to his right to where the staircase was and then turned to his opposite side. He caught sight of a small figure down the hallway. Ray aimed his UMP-45 and opened fire. The bullets slipped away, causing the figure to run off.

“Got eyes on possible HVT!” Ray called before making his chase.

He ran after the figure down the hallway, eager to take him out. He was definitely the target. There was no reason for any soldier to run away. Ray caught up with the figure running down the stairs and without hesitation, he pulled the trigger. Just in a second, the figure fell over and rolled down the stairs loudly before slamming onto the wall. But Ray was done with him yet. He emptied his entire mag on his body as he walked down the stairs and once it was empty, he switched to his suppressed Beretta 92 and continued to shoot his lifeless heap. The pistol clicked and Ray was about to eject the mag before a hand appeared in front of him and held onto the slide off his gun.

“Easy, partner, easy,” Ray looked up and noticed McCree beside him, urging him to lower his pistol. “He’s already a goner.”

He looked back at the corpse which was now filled with bullet holes as well as his blood-soaked clothes and loosely wrapped bandages.

“Just making sure.” Ray replied, flipping the safety back on. He felt a sense of satisfaction from this.

Reaper then bent down by the body. It wasn’t easy to tell since he was completely pelted with bullets. Maybe Ray went a little overkill with the corpse. After a moment, Reaper reached out to his go-bag.

“Yep,” he said as he pulled out a camera. “That’s Bodho.”

As he took the photos for NATO’s confirmation, Ray glanced back and noticed Marvel and Genji catching up to them. Once Reaper was done, his earpiece buzzed.

“Shadow 2 to Shadow 1. Status.” Widowmaker said.

“Shadow 1 to Shadow 2, HVT has been eliminated. We’re moving out, over.” Reaper replied as he stood up.

As the team walked down the hallway towards the door, there was another update from Widowmaker.

“Shadow 2 to Shadow 1, I’m detecting multiple vehicles approaching the school gates.”

The team stopped once Reaper froze. Ray could hear a faint engine rumble from outside. He looked over towards the entrance of the school by the end of the hallway. Reaper remained silent.

“I’m counting approximately fourteen armed hostiles exiting the vehicles. Several of them are about to head into your location, over.”

From Ray’s view, there were only five of them and a large group of soldiers heading their way. If they were to take every single one of them out, the team would merely have pure luck on their side. And it was not easy for Reaper to explain a messy shootout with one of the dangerous militias of Congo. Reaper turned towards his team and gestured them to follow him, leading them into one of the classrooms to their right.

“Shadow 1 to Shadow 2, hold your fire. We’re letting them pass, over.” Reaper said.

He lifted his finger off the earpiece and waved the team down while crouching under the window.

“Keep your heads down. Now.” He whispered.

The team began to hide behind anything they can fit. Ray hid behind the right side of the door while Reaper shuffled into a prone position. Shortly, the doors swung open and Ray caught sight of armed soldiers with bare arms and chest rigs from the corner of his eye. Some of them had loose cargo shirts and dirty bandanas. The men chattered amongst each other while passing by the classrooms, unaware of the team’s presence.

Once they were in a safe distance, Reaper got up and peered over the windows for a moment before cocking his head sideways.

“We’re clear. Move.”

The team ran out of the classroom and back to the yard. By the time they were out, the soldiers would’ve found their leader’s body by now and would be relentlessly hunting down anyone responsible. But it would be too late.

“Shadow 1 to Shadow 2, we’re in the clear, over.”

“Copy, Shadow 1. Moving out.”

As the team went past the basketball court where it was now filled with Jeeps, Ray glanced over to the building where Widowmaker was. There was no sign of her but earlier, he heard she was experienced in using the environment to her advantage during escapes. They made it to the front gate where they walked back down the hill.

“Ray.” Marvel said.

“Yeah?” He replied.

Marvel pointed to his forearm. “Your arm’s bleeding.”

Ray looked down at his right arm and noticed a cut on his forearm. Small portions of blood was seeping out of it. It appeared to be there for a while. Must’ve been a graze from the DSHK. Ray shrugged it off.

“It’s just a scratch. It won’t kill me.” Ray replied.

Reaper turned around and noticed Ray’s wound. He looked at it for a moment before flicking his eyes to him.

“Remind yourself to get that arm checked out by Moira once we get back.” he said.

“Yes, sir.” Ray replied.

Eventually, the team jogged their way down the path and towards their LZ where their pilot would be waiting at. For the first time, Ray didn’t look back.

12:07, Local Time

Rome, Italy

Embassy of the United States

Once the team returned to Rome, Ray took his leader’s word and stopped by at the Embassy’s medical office where he got his wounds treated by Moira herself. But of course, he used some of the medical supplies from the helicopter to prevent his wound from infecting during the trip.

Moira was easy to get along although something about her unsettles him. Maybe it was the fact she’s so into the human anatomy and the nature of science. She had just finished up on his wound.

“Here you go, good as new. You should be fine for a few days.” She said, tearing off the latex gloves.

“Thanks.” Ray replied.

As Moira stood up from her stool, Ray looked at his arm where the bandages were laid. There was still some small amount of blood on it but since the wound wasn’t too deep, Moira only had to apply some water and antibiotic cream afterwards with bandages wrapping around the forearm.

“Is something bothering you?”

Ray looked up to his right where he noticed Moira staring at him while washing her hands.

“What makes you say that?” Ray asked as if he’s fine.

“I’m not just a medic,” Moira replied, wiping her hands with a paper towel before tossing it into the bin. “I have a Major in Psychology and Sociology before I joined the military and I’ve noticed that your wedding ring has been missing ever since you arrived at the Embassy yesterday.”

Ray looked down to his hand where he realized his wedding ring wasn’t on his ring finger since he left it back at his apartment. He was perplexed he had forgotten about it.

“Something happened between you and your partner?” Moira deduced.

Ray sighed. If she already figured it out, there was no point in denying it. “Yeah. She sent me the divorce papers for me to sign.”

There was a brief moment of silence. Moira leaned onto the counter with her left hand while her other laid in her hip.

“Well,” Moira said. “I personally am not one to give proper advice since I have absolutely no experience in marriages. But if Reyes trusts you, he may help you move on. I know he was once happy.”

Ray looked up. “Really? He doesn’t seem to be that kind of guy who smiles a lot.”

“True. He’s been through a lot during his time at the Delta Force. But take my word for it. You’ll be feeling much better once he tells you his story. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have some business to attend to.”

Moira swiped off her coat from one of the chairs nearby and walked out of the room. As the door closed shut, Ray sighed and shifted his feet, positioning himself to a slightly comfortable spot. There was still issues going on around his head. Ray wanted to whisk it off his memory. It was plaguing his mind. Who knows what would happen if he let it consume him while at the field. But he couldn’t help but sense something empty like a large hole waiting to be filled. Ray thought of Dahlia’s last few words that hit him the most.

You were never going to leave this life.

And you never will.

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swisstadrc · 4 years ago

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michaelfallcon · 6 years ago

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Where To Drink Coffee In Brussels

A walk in the park, Brussels is not. In the Belgian capital, contrasts between the well-off and those in need can be stark. Street names and signs are given in two languages, though neighborhoods and their inhabitants tend to identify as either Francophone or Flemish-speaking, sometimes leading to notoriously nationalist identity politics and social strife. Majestic though they are, many of the monumental buildings look like they are forever in need of a power wash.

Despite these complexities, not to mention the city’s Eurocratic solemnity—it is known as the European Union’s “de facto capital” (the title itself evoking bureaucratic provisos and red tape)—Brussels’ mascot is the Manneken Pis. That this simple little statue of a naked boy urinating into a fountain attracts so much attention and celebration reminds us that humor and joie de vivre also exist here. So do chocolates galore, among many other famous local sweets (waffles, nougat) and treats (mussels, beer). Meanwhile, a contrast to all the traditionalist Belgian gastronomy is the novelty of specialty coffee. The scene is still young and the cafes are still very much countable, but that makes it all the more exciting. Here, then, are a variety of venues worth a visit.

OR Coffee

Its name is a conjunction connecting choices, but visiting OR Coffee should not be a matter of choice when in Brussels. Many would agree that this brand brought specialty coffee to the Belgian capital, over a decade after Katrien Pauwels and Tom Janssen founded their own roastery in 2001. Today the couple has two cafes in Brussels, two in Ghent, and the OR coffee school and roastery in Westrem.

Flanked by a Marriott Hotel and a Bobbi Brown store, the Brussels’ city-center location, which opened in 2012, attracts a cross-section of clients, whose Flemish, French, and English conversations bounce animatedly off the bi-level brick walls. Coffee orders—taken at the counter but delivered to tables—might range from traditional espresso-based milk beverages to the most pronouncedly pampelmousse Kenyan à la Kalita this reporter has ever experienced. And in the Dutch and Flemish tradition, drinks are served with a little sweet on the side: here, a chocolate in OR’s signature forest green and gold packaging.

An estimated 95% of OR’s coffee is “direct fair trade,” says the company’s head of education, Wouter Helsen. This choice is facilitated by the close working relationship with Pauwels’ other business, Cup-A-Lot green coffee sourcers, and she and Janssen’s ability to personally travel to origin countries.

For equally appealing offerings and service, visit OR’s second Brussels branch in the municipality of Etterbeek. This cafe attracts the darker-suited set with business in and among the nearby European Commission and provides, for the coffeecrats among us, the cool sight of a Pentair water filter system with customized copper tubing wall-mounted like an objet d’art.

OR Coffee Roasters is located at Rue A. Ortsstraat 9, 1000 Brussel. Visit their official website and follow them on Facebook and Instagram.

MOK

Like OR, MOK has its roots, roastery, and first coffee bar in Flanders, but its Brussels outpost has become the company flagship. Though founder and owner Jens Crabbé says he once felt namer’s remorse for the obvious choice—mok means “mug” in Flemish—he acknowledges it was an ode to filter coffee, experiencing a renaissance in the Low Countries when his business began almost eight years ago. And it remains fitting considering the scrutiny with which Crabbé develops his roasting profiles and brew recipes; unsurprisingly, he is Belgium’s reigning Cup Tasters Champion.

“It started off maybe quite small and cute and then, as I grew as a person,” says Crabbé, now just shy of 30, “my style started to change, and the brand kind of followed.”

With high ceilings, a communal table, a custom-designed shelving-cum-blackboard unit, and an open kitchenette producing vegetarian-friendly cold and hot breakfast and lunch, MOK is progressive in its aesthetics and taste. Being situated on the fashionable Rue Antoine Dansaert—from A.P.C. to Kartell, stylistas can shop in a straight line—is fitting, though MOK deftly balances chic and geek.

Jens Crabbé

Riffing about MOK’s reverse-osmosis system and the different hardnesses for espresso and filter, Crabbé notes: “When people buy coffee we even encourage them [by saying], ‘Hey, take half a liter of water home from the tap, try it at home with our water. Water is really important, and we really try to like tick all the boxes to give you a good coffee experience.’”

Inasmuch as Crabbé enjoys living and working in his hometown of Leuven, he is seeking a new roasting space for MOK in the Belgian capital. “There’s a lot of work to be done still in Brussels in coffee, and we really want to be a part of that,” he says.

MOK is located at Rue Antoine Dansaert 196, Brussels. Visit their official website and follow them on Facebook and Instagram.

Fika

From light roasts in specialty coffee to clean lines in interior design, Scandinavia has contributed much to contemporary cafe culture around the world. In Brussels, however, Scandic style has yet to become big. And when Joana Soulard opened her homage to the Swedish coffee break in fall 2016, it was simply a commonsensical melding of two of her interests: specialty coffee and Scandinavian culture.

For filter preparations, Fika uses coffee roasted by April (founded by, indeed, a Swede), and is known to include Swedish favorites among its on-premise-baked pastries. “We have some Swedish [customers], but they come for the semla,” admits Soulard.

Of Fika’s city-central neighborhood, “it’s very mixed,” she says. The Matongé, as it is commonly known, is named after a district in Kinshasa, DR Congo, recognizing the many Congolese immigrants who have settled in the area over the last half-century; these days they are joined by other African communities and European Union-employed expats.

Fika does a lot of weekday morning takeaway, though during the day provides a peaceful spot to sit and sip. The venue, like its owner, is relaxed yet engaging; characteristically light wood and soft lines create a sense of holding space and hygge. That said, a non-Nordic nod goes to Café Capitale, the Brussels brand that supplies Fika’s espresso beans and a company whom Soulard credits with teaching her “everything about coffee” during her four-year employment there.

“For me, it’s important to use and to have some local products,” she adds.

Fika is located at Rue de la Paix 17, Brussels. Follow them on Facebook and Instagram.

Café Capitale

Café Capitale is a crowd pleaser. Perhaps this is because founder François Lafontaine established his company in 2001 with ambience very much in mind, aiming for “cool places to drink coffee,” as he put it in a Coffee with April podcast. But fast-forward a dozen years, after inspiring visits to Sydney and Melbourne—having discovered “places where you sell only classic basic milk drink and filter coffee, with no whipped cream, no syrup and no topping and a huge line of customers”—Lafontaine rebranded and renamed his business. His focus turned to specialty coffee and he plunged into SCA courses, eventually becoming a certified roaster and Q grader.

Nowadays, Lafontaine owns and runs an atelier and bakery in nearby Uccle, the Brussels-based Belgian Coffee Academy, which has a roastery and a training center, and two cafes in Brussels.

The Café Capitale on Rue du Midi, which dates back to 2001, occupies a busy corner near the city’s iconic square, the Grand-Place. Vinyl spins on a turntable behind the bar and illustrations of coffee apparatuses act simultaneously as wall art and a visual education.

Alongside espresso-based drinks and filter coffees—V60 is the default, though AeroPress and Chemex are also available—the menu lists “three aromatic coffees from the past,” as Lafontaine terms them: “the mochaccino, the caramel macchiato, and the cappuccinut.” This reporter found the last—a syrup-sweetened hazelnut crunch-topped cappuccino—a perfect pre-prandial pick-me-up. And for those who prefer not to nibble from a drink, but rather, a dish, there is breakfast, lunch, and snack fare, with many of the carbohydrates produced by Café Capitale’s own bakery.

Less spacious but no less enticing, the branch on Rue Ernest Allard is in Sablon, just a 10-minute walk south.

Café Capitale is located at Rue du Midi 45, 1000 Bruxelles. Visit their official website and follow them on Facebook and Instagram.

Aksum Coffee House

At Aksum Coffee House, do not expect an array of filter choices—in fact, on a recent visit, there was none on the menu, though a barista happily obliged when asked for one—nor conversations about water hardness and fruit-forward roast profiles. Be prepared, however, for a fine selection of espresso beans exclusively from Ethiopia, teas, chocolate, and baked goods, as well as a cost-free feast for the eyes in the form of rotating wall art by local street artists.

The Aksum brand has been around for a decade, but investor Vinod Gautam took it over about five years ago and, with the avid help of manager Fatima Boulben, began focusing on what Gautam calls organic, mainly small-cooperative-sourced Harar, Sidamo, Yirgacheffe, and Limu coffees roasted by Aksum’s own roastery. Though neither is Ethiopian—he is from India; her parents are from Morocco—the duo is intent on sharing Ethiopian coffee with the masses, and have ambitions to one day host Ethiopian dance and coffee ceremonies in Brussels.

Aksum Coffee House currently has three Brussels locations, though the most spectacular is in the renowned Saint-Hubert Royal Galleries, a 19th-century European shopping arcade (read: proto-mall). The Embassy of Ethiopia’s quarterly magazine called this branch, which opened in July 2017, “the temple of Ethiopian coffee in the city.”

Amidst the arcade’s Old World boutiques and high-end chocolatiers, it radically offers a hangout spot, with friendly staff and room enough for small groups to share a table or solitary laptop workers to concentrate.

As Boulben describes her vision of Aksum: “It has to be a place where everybody should feel comfortable. From the high social level to the normal social level, they should all feel comfortable, because you know when you say ‘specialty coffee’ people straightaway feel afraid this is expensive.”

Aksum is located at Rue des Chapeliers 17, 1000 Bruxelles. Visit their official website and follow them on Facebook and Instagram.

Karina Hof is a Sprudge staff writer based in Amsterdam. Read more Karina Hof on Sprudge.

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Where To Drink Coffee In Brussels published first on https://medium.com/@LinLinCoffee

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Where To Drink Coffee In Brussels

OR Coffee

OR Coffee Roasters is located at Rue A. Ortsstraat 9, 1000 Brussel. Visit their official website and follow them on Facebook and Instagram.

MOK

“It started off maybe quite small and cute and then, as I grew as a person,” says Crabbé, now just shy of 30, “my style started to change, and the brand kind of followed.”

Jens Crabbé

MOK is located at Rue Antoine Dansaert 196, Brussels. Visit their official website and follow them on Facebook and Instagram.

Fika

“For me, it’s important to use and to have some local products,” she adds.

Fika is located at Rue de la Paix 17, Brussels. Follow them on Facebook and Instagram.

Café Capitale

Nowadays, Lafontaine owns and runs an atelier and bakery in nearby Uccle, the Brussels-based Belgian Coffee Academy, which has a roastery and a training center, and two cafes in Brussels.

Less spacious but no less enticing, the branch on Rue Ernest Allard is in Sablon, just a 10-minute walk south.

Café Capitale is located at Rue du Midi 45, 1000 Bruxelles. Visit their official website and follow them on Facebook and Instagram.

Aksum Coffee House

Aksum is located at Rue des Chapeliers 17, 1000 Bruxelles. Visit their official website and follow them on Facebook and Instagram.

Karina Hof is a Sprudge staff writer based in Amsterdam. Read more Karina Hof on Sprudge.

The post Where To Drink Coffee In Brussels appeared first on Sprudge.

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