Chapter Text
“Don't get yourself killed, pumpkin.” Johnny tells you, patting your shoulder lightly.
“You know me,” you smile warmly, “I'm hard to take out.”
He chuckles and hums in agreement, before exiting the armory and leaving you alone to contemplate the hundreds of weapons before you. You choose the usual ones – two pistols and a hunting knife – before exiting and heading for the helicopter landing zone.
You have been assigned another job. This time the loot to be retrieved is a serum worth a lot of money, apparently. You haven't asked many questions about it. You don't care what it’s for; the important thing is the money you'll make after you recover it. The best buyer will know what to do with it.
The serum was developed by a major pharmaceutical company whose name you don't remember. All you know is that a scandal had broken out after one of their experiments went wrong and somehow got into the town's water supply, making hundreds of people sick and even killing some. The victims sued the shit out of them, and they were forced to shut everything down for good.
Or so people think.
They just moved to a laboratory believed to have been abandoned for decades across the border with Canada. In short, they have given themselves a fresh start in another country to continue with their borderline-legal experiments. And you're going there to bring one of those experiments back to the dear old United States.
You get into the helicopter and prepare for the trip. You never talk, you and the pilot. Every time you get in, he hands you the headset, and the rest of the trip you spend in silence. It's an unspoken agreement between you. You made pointless small talk the first time you had to take the helicopter for one of your missions, and it was so forced and awkward that you never talked from then on. You just enjoy each other’s company in total silence.
It was different before, though. You have been doing this work for several years now. When you were a newbie, you were never assigned to missions alone. You never really liked working with others, even when you were still inexperienced. The one person you always got along really well with and looked forward to working with was Johnny.
He’s like a father figure to you. He was the one who taught you the secrets of the trade. He was there when you struggled to keep up with your training, when you couldn't hit the target at the range, and even when you had a panic attack the first time you had to kill someone.
“You have to close your heart, pumpkin. You’ll see that with time it gets easier.” he told you, as tears streamed down your face and clouded your eyes, making it harder to look at the blood that painted your guilty hands.
Ending a life is never easy. The only thing that consoles you is that – usually – the people you kill are just as rotten as you are.
This is not the life you wrote about in your secret diary when you were a little girl. You don't even have a cool backstory like comic book villains to justify the terrible person you've become.
It just… happened.
You took an illegal job once, realized you weren't that bad, and got deeper into this messed up world until you got to where you are today; one of the most sought-after mercenaries for high-level missions.
You often wish you could run away and start over, but then you realize that this is the only thing you're really good at, and that your soul is so corroded that there's no longer a place for you amongst normal people.
The pilot raises his hand and starts counting down. You sigh, before putting on the parachute. You check that your guns are loaded and open the hatch when the helicopter is stationary in mid-air.
You never liked this part. You're not afraid of many things, but you've never been a big fan of heights.
You take a deep breath and close your eyes before jumping. Your heart races and your hands shake as you pull on the string to open the parachute. You go down slowly for a few minutes until you touch the ground. You take it all off and hide it behind a tree.
You take the radio from your jacket pocket and turn it on, looking for the right frequency. “I landed. I’m about to enter the laboratory.” you say.
“Good,” a male voice replies. Michael Raven, the mastermind behind your every mission and the most unsufferable man you’ve ever stumbled upon, also known as your boss. You hate the bastard, but the jobs he offers pay well, so you don't complain. “Are there other people?”
You look around briefly. The place really looks like it has been abandoned for decades, you almost find it hard to believe that the laboratory inside is still functional. “Not on the outside.”
“If you find someone, kill them. And bring me that serum.”
“What's the magic word?”
“What the hell are you talking about?” he replies, annoyed.
“The magic word. Starts with P and ends in Lease. You know, you should use it once in a while.”
Raven doesn't answer, and after a few seconds you hear the static sound of the radio disconnecting. You chuckle softly before putting it away.
You love to mess with the son of a bitch, even if he's one of the most dangerous people you’ve had the misfortune to meet, you’re well aware that as long as you keep filling his pockets with money he’ll deal with your shit, so you just have a little fun.
Going in through the main entrance is like going into the wolf's den. You head towards the back of the building to look for another way in. You keep looking around for some sign of other people, and for a moment you think that Raven got screwed and sent you on a wild goose chase and that this really is simply a laboratory that has been abandoned for years.
When you reach the back, you notice a broken window. It's the only way in, and even if it’s on the first floor, it's too high up for you to climb. You look around for something and notice an old trash can. You sigh and drag it towards the wall, shaking it a few times to make sure it's stable.
“You better not make me fall on my ass.” you say, climbing slowly and carefully.
You manage to reach the window and jump down. Jumping from high points without hurting your ankles and knees has been one of the hardest things to learn in your training.
When you stand up, you take a look inside the laboratory and, witnessing the macabre scene in front of you, you take out your gun.
“What the fuck.” you say, looking at the slaughtered bodies of dozens of people wearing white lab coats. If before you had any doubts that you were in the wrong place, the carnage ahead of you has confirmed that you’re exactly where you need to be.
You walk slowly, the sound of broken glass under your boots breaks the eerie silence that hovers in the room.
The corridor lights flicker. You keep your gun pointed in front of you as you round the corner, following the blood trails.
Your breathing stops for a second as you feel something cold press against your head. It has happened to you several times now that you know exactly what it is. You have a fucking gun to your head.
“Where do you think you're going?” a male voice says behind you.
You put your hands up and holster your gun. “I’m taking a walk, nothing much.”
The man laughs. His hoarse, slimy laugh makes your nose turn up. “Sorry to break it to you, sweetheart, but I really think it's the last one you’ll ever take.”
You sigh, before hitting his arm with your elbow, the gun fires the shot that was meant for your head. You turn towards him, positioning yourself by his side. You pin his arm while with the other hand you steal his gun and hit him over the head with it. The man grunts and falls to his knees, his temple starting to bleed.
“I think I'll finish my walk.” you say, before pointing his own gun at his head and firing a shot. Blood splatters on the wall and on your clothes. The man falls to the ground with a thud, and you throw his gun at him, snatching yours from its holster.
“That was easy.” you mutter.
You continue walking down the corridor and reach the source of the blood trails that lead you into a strangely empty room except for a computer. A man is lying helpless on the ground. You observe him carefully.
“You came all this way with a bullet in the stomach. What did you want to hide?” you ask, well aware that you have to find the answer for yourself.
You press a button on the keyboard of the computer and the screen lights up. A recorded voice fills the silence, making you jump slightly. “Enter identification code.”
You sigh, before moving your gaze back to the man at your feet. You kneel next to him and start searching his pockets. In the pocket of his coat, you find a badge with his identification code written on it. You smile, looking at his foggy open eyes.
“If you wanted to hide something, coming to die here wasn't a great idea, was it?”
You put yourself back in front of the computer, typing in the numbers written on the badge.
“Identification code recognized. Welcome back, Dr. Tucker.” the voice announces.
You open all the kept secret files in search of something that will lead you to your goal, until you find a digital blueprint of the building with a flashing red dot in the center of the janitor’s room on the east side of the third floor. You frown, before realizing that's exactly where the serum tubes must be.
“What's the point of pretending that’s an actual janitor’s room if you put a fucking flashing red dot in the middle of it? Not a very smart move.” you say out loud.
You close the files and shut down the computer, before making sure you have the doctor’s badge with you.
“Thank you, Dr Tucker.” you say, looking once more at the man.
You make your way to the stairs, ready to go to the third floor and end the mission. When you get to the second-floor hallway, you hear voices in the distance. You sigh in frustration, before slowly walking over to see what's going on. As you get closer, the voices are replaced by gunshots and grunts. You're a few steps from the door and are forced to back away as a man dressed exactly like the one you killed minutes ago is thrown out, dead. You look at him for a moment, baffled.
You look through the door, making sure nobody can see you. A man is fighting alone against three people. His movements are fluid and calculated. You see him draw his knife and strike a man in his neck and leaning against him as he kicks another. The three try to react, but the man foresees their every move and leaves them no room for attack. The guy is built like a tank and is clearly stronger and more experienced than those fuckers, including the piece of trash who tried to kill you before.
“Fuck.” you whisper as you walk away slowly towards the stairs again. You lean against the wall, sighing. “This guy is going to be a fucking problem.”