Author's Note: Yo yo yo! This is PenGator3 with another chapter of 4Kids Does Team Fortress 2 up and at 'em!

Sanzo (rolls his eye): Really, is it just me or somehow the crap you are speaking is turning into a cliche?

Dominique (glares at Sanzo): It's just you...

Sanzo: I hope we cut to chase and get straight to the action shortly; after all, Lordriochi says the story needs soon and fast.

Dominique: Whateves, let's get to the disclaimer and cut to the story already: Team Fortress 2 belong to Valve!

Sanzo: You do realize that this will be the last time we'll be doing disclaimers you know...

Dominique: Exactly; as a matter of fact, this should be our official policy for our fanfics.

Sanzo: ...


At attention, it seems to be quite obvious that unsurprisingly such short notice was now at due, instantly being paid for to another part of the western seaboard itself, somewhere that was absolutely (in)conspicuous. The climate, despite being austere proved to be quite nice outside with the golden sun now rising and shining up into the sky today in place of its nightly counterpart sibling, the silvery moon of the fallen brilliance that hid itself on the other opposite side of the wonderful world. Rather than the buildings standing up tall and proud or even the tracks laid bowing before them like the subjects of majestic royalty now off to fight in a fateful and worst of all ill-fated war, there was an observatory with a few satellites poking out of there with a road leading to it surrounded by a tall metal fence with a wooden sign standing upright outside it all reading "AREA 51.1: DANGER!" Despite this, the place itself was nearly uninhabitable it was as the environment itself overall was now in the triple digit heat (only until afternoon that is); in other words, the current temperature was perhaps more or less hotter now giving the typical thought of how fierce it would have simply felt if one stepped in the desert for a while.

Inside it all at once, there was by far irrefutable proof that all was not well at it may seem despite the fact that the environment was compared to a silent hill but ironically less scary; this was amplified by how the heart of the observatory contained many things. First, there were a large set of screens flourished with an abundance of persons, places, things, and even ideas on display closely monitored on a strict basis. Secondly, there was a large round table capable of seating many people of all generations and ages whatsoever be if civilian, citizen, or soldier; even so, it would be main place for even the most loyal knights to hold discussions with their royal king. Then there was but a set of tall metal drawers standing in the background holding ambiguous amounts of whatever could be called confidential in its own way as its owners would see fit to do so. A scented mixture of big business and grand disappointment waivered around like an exotic dancer using her allure to please and quiet down the rowdy masculine crowd.

Out of all the people in attendance at once currently so far, the attention was now focused on two men beside each other at once whom aside from being a pair of attendants in black of the same stature and shape had their fair share of physical differences. For starters, one of them had bright platinum skin that was shining like the amalgamation of a thousand suns from countless galaxies abroad whereas the other had a shiny cupric bronze that bright like the stars that were lost upon the sounding of the daybreak's bell. Secondly, one was wearing his hair to be blond like Sanzo's hair as well and light like Mr. Test's hair in a neatly applied style whereas the other was black like the clothing itself, a silent night to be precise yet in the same style as well no less. Lastly, one had a nose that had the shape of a geometrical right angle underneath his sunglasses while the other had a triangular appearance with round ends instead of the very angles themselves underneath.

In the middle was an army general whose placing seemed right smack in the very middle of the two at once clad in a light olive green as proof of the garments that were worn by the individual in particular. The man had a cap with a visor sticking out of it and a golden eagle placed above it all, even neatly as so to the point where it was covered up so that his hair was nowhere to be seen by the people at all. His nose was pointing out downward to the floor yet it had remained as straight like an arrow to project such rigid posture, poise, and grace as proof of the uniform's significance and importance alike altogether. The general's chin was as round and soft like a ball compared to the keen and edged ones that the men in black had on their faces. The padding on his matching jacket was rife with stars with three on each side resting on his shoulders while the cufflinks were made of gold just like the eagle on his hat. The tetragonal laurels that were accumulated in a cluster on the upper left side of his torso were shown as proof of the many immeasurable tales of progress that all had his name on it, from humble beginnings to the modern days. The loafers on his feet were buffed to look as elegant as a black luster soldier heralding the envoy of the beginning.

"Is everyone accounted for now?" were the first words that the very general himself said for the many people inside with him to hear loud and clear at once in a booming voice. In a mere instant, the two men in his presence all said to him clearly unhesitant and free of fear whatsoever, "yes, sir." "Okay then; let us commence debriefing…" the general said as everyone sat down and look at the screen in front, "I want to start off by apologizing for having you all brought here at such short notice but it seems that perhaps that a great crisis has fallen upon America right here in our homes; in any case, it's time we get to the situation at hand already: ladies and gentlemen, it seems reasonable to believe that the rivalry between the clandestine organizations of both Reliable Excavation and Demolition and Builders League United has now reared its ugly head. Of course, we should be already be aware that many of those employers inside these organizations have a history of violence ranging from aggravated assault and battery with a deadly weapon to full-on first degree premeditated murder amongst other crimes including jaywalking and high treason. Soon afterwards, the syndicates have waged a full scale supposed indiscriminately aggressive war over territories against one another that was hidden from the public dating back to be all the way back from the middle nineteenth century to today. Well, about approximately two hours ago, they have made an appearance using locomotives on dual tracks and struck Porkbelly; unfortunately for us, it seems that the speed of the attack has passed by us in a lightning bolt speed, practically reducing any possible chance to give chase and put an end to their violent spree. The desert rules out a ground offensive due to the effects of magnetic storms have on our radar and tracking systems seeing that this is currently the time of year where thunderstorms are commonplace to pop up at any time. To add further to this catastrophe, about eighty minutes ago a roadblock setup by the California Highway Patrol tried to terminate the rampage confronting them head on seconds before destruction; based on the quickness of such abandon, we believe that the weapons used by the mercenaries have been perhaps of a superior quality. We can all say without a doubt that by taking it into account those people have unfortunately rendered the defending law enforcement officials' firepower absolutely useless; with this in mind, we can agree to send the neighboring Nevada Highway Patrol our military capability to assist the national law officials in their defense efforts. Considering our history with our disuse of such weaponry, it is perhaps reasonable clear to all of us that if they're to be of any use whatsoever, then perhaps it's the only way currently to bring those mercenaries to justice lest the other states will suffer gravely."

After making a declaration in a calm but firm tone, the general finished and was met with overall agreement from the others regardless of whatever reason they had that had compelled them to do this whatsoever. "Uh sir, I have a question here: shouldn't we send the Test kids over to confront the likes of them like we usually do?" the white blond asked the general quizzically earning him a pound on the shoulder from the black colleague in a mere instant. As the agent was rubbing his shoulder that swelled in a throbbing pain, he had been given a firm reason why this simple question was met this way albeit verbally, "it's because of two reasons, Mr. Black: Johnny was one of the people caught in the crossfire at the time of the attack so he had to be taken to the hospital until he can recover; plus, seeing that these girls are practically upset by this ordeal they're going through it would practically be wise not to call them at such short notice for help." "Point taken…" the general complemented on this answer, "the fact that this kind of thing usually never happens at all is kind of scary considering that these people practical have an arsenal worth taking over a tri-county area or two but no qualms about harming anyone around them; THE WHOLE THING MAKES ME FEEL SICK TO MY STOMACH!"

"At least we now know what separates us from them, right?" the dark-skinned agent spoke warmheartedly in a blind yet noble attempt to brighten the situation at hand only to be met with pairs of glowers from everyone around him. Not wanting to dwell on the simple comment that came from his bronzed page, the general rubbed his forehead and spoke clearly for everyone to hear what needed to be all said and done at once without raising his voice, "forgetting what they had been done earlier for a moment would be just as worse than simply allowing it, Mr. White, even though that something like this was such a long shot: a jillion to one to be precise out of all the countries in the world; in fact, this could be just as worse than perhaps that 'Millie Collins' movie I'd seen just in the last decade." "Truly it's agreed that such an act by such mercenaries from our own homeland is deemed a cowardly act of high treason; why, this is too high profile for any of us to handle!" said the copper toned agent who was name Mr. White, "this is even more worse than whatever scheme we had even thought of in our entire lives as government agents; this organization was meant for the defense against hostile extraterrestrials like that 'Art Arby' movie not one of those 'Speed McCool's Last Ditch' terrorists."

"Normally, my suggestion was to send out a few men of ours to follow them and strike back but for now we should wait until we get word about the men being captured when it will be complete," the general responded with a firm commanded tone in his stern voice and an outlook in his visage. Mr. Black soon then questioned his superior, "would it be okay that you should send either any one of us to even find, capture, and punish them?" "No, our past experiences will practically make things worse than it is thanks to its expectancy rate of failure to rise," he answered, "we'll have to wait and see until they stop at the next train yard nearby sooner or later before we ever get the chance to do that; in the meantime, we must up with some ways to keep the news from spreading throughout the rest of the country for civilians to get all panicky and what not." "Umm, sir shouldn't people be warned about it anyway concerning those armed men in question?" Mr. White inquired out of a sense of rational logic for his employer to hear clearly at once along with everyone else who was there. The general answered him quickly at once without hesitation, "don't worry about it; as far as I'm aware of that in an instant this detestable display of violence will cease at once when it all over here and there, when it will be… complete."


Meanwhile, it seemed quite clear that somewhere in another part of the country itself all had simply looked a bit too similar to the train yard where the mercenaries had departed from earlier before striking Porkbelly. The climate, despite being just the same as that desert proved to be quite fairly nice and tame with the same golden sun in place of the silvery moon thanks to the double digit. Rather than the buildings standing up tall and proud or even the tracks laid bowing before them like the subjects of majestic royalty now off to fight in a fateful and worst of all ill-fated war, there was an abundance of cacti regardless of shape and size that hadn't seem uncommon in the eyes of travelers due to the environment they were all in at once since the naissance of their subsistence. What was deemed an uncommon presence however, were the scores of tanks (pre)arranged in what had appeared to be the way a line of scrimmage is drawn on the football field as their cannons pointed in a specified direction like for some reason they now know where the enemy was going to arrive. Above them were but a()mass fleet of fully furnished helicopters hovering over them as the whirring of the rotors drowned out the screeching and squawking of the native vultures that waited for the next living being to collapse and feast upon its remains concentrated in that same direction.

The simple fact that such vehicles and aircraft were gathered accumulatively at once was grounds for automatically being considered uncommon wasn't without reason; in fact, it would all be too similar nonetheless compared to such current events in either a foreign or a domestic land. As such, a battle was about to commence shortly that was unannounced earlier by either the ragtag military or even the vague opposition yet nevertheless inevitable due to the tragedy that had occurred over back in Porkbelly; in fact, this was perhaps unknown to call it nothing compared to a war if there ever was one. Considering that the mercenaries were all veterans that had worked hard in past assignments, it was like that they'd knew the rules very well and studied the details of the mission very diligently yet unaware that this was just merely a simply front given to them by Helen herself: the real reason was that it was involving 4Kids and the takeover probably out of personal frustration and defiance; oddly enough, it seems like that aside from viewing each other as enemies they have yet to face a common denominator that could threaten to divide them by zero. Regardless, the countdown was starting to tick on down shortly for that there were at least a bit of uncertainty from the start about why she hadn't tell any of them about the whole thing sooner to the mercenaries whom would never know, for when no more of the seconds would be completely deprived, there would be nothing and they all were to face the first phase of the united opposition.

In the midst of the mobile weaponry was an officer and a gentlemen rolled into one person of a bright membrane whose placing seemed right in this very moment of it all at once clad in what had appeared to be a law enforcement uniform as an explanation for the presence of such artificial surroundings yet dark like a thief in the night. The man had a hat with a smooth-edged flat brim with an eagle in front just like the general but darker as is along with a metallic badge, even neatly as so to the point where it was covered up so that most of his hair was nowhere to be seen by the people at all. Still, his hair was there nevertheless dull and gray to serve as proof of the many immeasurable tales of progress that all had his name on it, from humble beginnings to the modern days. His nose was a bit somewhat shorter than the general yet it had the rigid posture, poise, and grace of the general in between the eyes that displayed a calm oceanic hazel that was earthbound like a (second) mother. The man's chin was as round and soft just like the general but had a somewhat flat edge and stayed in place like his nose. The matching shirt had a collar that was rife with stars with two on each side while the breast pocket displayed a similar badge just like the one on his hat. The man's khakis were complete with a duty belt that held it in place tightly but snugly containing many things attributed to the fitting job such as weapons, manacles and the means of communication along with everything else like the pricelessness of experience and diligence from days on end. The loafers on his feet were buffed to look as elegant as an accursed pearl being sought out in the sea by eccentric pirates with minds set on adventure and treasure.

"Sir…!" a voice echoed from nearby as the distinguished male turned to find a woman of a different complexion clad in an analogous regalia to be the source of it, "I just got this back from headquarters concerning the armed train conductors from earlier." "Okay, give it to me straight madam; I am sensing them to be over there in an instant…!" the commanding officer responded gruffly as a show of such impatient expectation of results. Pulling a makeshift scroll from her possession, she had unfurled it quickly but assiduously to reveal a map showing where they were as of now along with the environment surrounding their presence speaking, "Chief, as it is possible that the mercenaries we are facing off against are presumed to be potential domestic terrorists the whereabouts concerning them appear that they were last seen in Humboldt County shooting at one another with at least casualties spanning up to a total of twenty dead and seventeen wounded so far. It's perhaps obvious that these are the same men that have caused chaos in Porkbelly, California about two hours ago and that it's imperative that unless we stop them here from escaping Elko County Stateline, their rampage will continue on into Utah, then perhaps Wyoming, then Nebraska, following Iowa, and finally maybe stop at the Chicago metropolitan area; even if their pathway changes, it will all end in bloodshed nevertheless. Luckily with the military stockade put out in front of them, we can stand more than a chance against the likes of those monsters and maybe the nightmare will be over for now." "Hmm… to think I wouldn't be able to hear of this in my entire life; this is perhaps a nightmare indeed…" the man said as he removed his hat at once before continuing on, "a time like this for example makes wish that I should have never quit the California Highway Patrol."

Just as he was about to put his hat back on his head from before, the Chief had his auricles standing on endwise in reaction to the sounds from the distance of what he was quickly treated to other than the whining airfoils above: rather than the environment being the natural place for the sound of music it was a volley of salvo. The two individuals faced the source of the newfound din and see some clouds of dust within their visages rustling about like a stampeding herd of loose cattle; soon, that alarming image had turned into something else much more ominous within a small moment: it was them, the mercenaries that left their playground of destruction and are starting to leave the world in flames behind them. The Chief using a pair of binoculars in his possession now started to see the many menfolk in the locomotives charging onwards in their direction emerging from the dashing dust from further ago but what had really caught their attention was the fact that the gunfire was solely aimed and directed at each other. This was something that he could not even fathom judging by his age and the dearth of something like this: "why was this, a group of mercenaries fighting against each other with little to no regard for their lives along with those around them that made some form of what was deemed contact with them, unfolding before him?" was the question floating into his mind like a bryony out above the deep after being guided by the airstreams throughout the dying forest at autumn's end. Nevertheless, the fact that remains was that a battle was about to commence shortly and this was exactly no time to just simply stand idly by and watch as such horrors are committed by the likes of them when something could be done about it anyway. "Madam, I suggest you better get everyone into position quickly; I sense a storm coming along…" the man said as his aide took the order in heed for the maelstrom that was fast approaching.


Author's Note: I hope this hold you peeps 'til chapter eleven is produced at once; now, please excuse me while I come up with chapter thirteen for Re: Yin Yang Who? or Yin Yang Yo! Forever to be read by the long awaiting crowd.

Sanzo: Well you better go do it, right now while there's still time, I bet the crowd might be restless over it. (Sanzo sees the crowd in the distance)

Crowd (shouting vigorously): WE WANT MORE YIN YANG WHO! WE WANT MORE YIN YANG WHO! WE WANT MORE YIN YANG WHO!

Dominique (sweating): Okay, OKAY; WE'LL BRING YOU MORE YIN YANG WHO! Just please hang tight already!

Sanzo (smirks): Heh, for such a writer you seemed to suck at deadlines.

Dominique (sceaming): Just shut up and help me with the next chapter already.

Sanzo: Fine then; not getting any younger anyway so let's just hobble on back over.

Dominique: Okay... and to those reading the story, PLEASE READ AND REVIEW! That's all we ask, okay...?