Chapter Text
It wasn't supposed to be like this, at least that's what Vinny thinks to himself. The Boss had promised that this would be a customary meeting between "old friends" and that it would be uneventful. Sure, it was strange that the gang hired a high profile mercenary to provide extra security, but the Boss was a powerful man for a reason. Paranoid, but powerful. And he was fond of his subtle shows of power, so the low level thug hadn't given it any extra thought. Maybe that's why when the routine treaty renewal devolved into a fire fight, Vinny was immediately clipped in the shoulder.
The injured man huddles behind the bar, flinching when bullets riddle the surface, too close for comfort. He doesn't dare to pop up from his cover, having lost his gun in his panicked scramble. The gunshots and confused yelling within the enclosed space disorient him, making it impossible to tell friend from foe. The only people he can confirm are the mercenary kneeling beside him and the Boss tucked into the corner of the bar.
"Do something!" the Boss shouts at the mercenary.
The woman pauses, eerily still in the chaos surrounding them. She doesn't flinch even as a bullet pierces through the wooden cabinet near her shoulder.
"My contract states that I am to keep you alive," she states matter-of-factly, her voice distorted by the black mask covering the lower half of her face. "Killing will cost you extra."
A bullet ricochets off of the top of the counter and shatters a liquor bottle just over the Boss's head. The man covers his head to protect himself from the raining shards of glass. He gnashes his teeth in frustration.
"Fine! I'll pay double, just kill them!"
The woman nods, seeming satisfied with the amendment to her contract. Vinny watches in awe as she raises her hands and seems to conjure a pair of handguns from the skin of her palms. She clicks the safety off and gathers her legs under her. In one fluid motion she stands, heedless of the bullets flying around her. She fires off precise bursts, each hitting their mark with deadly accuracy. And then, just as soon as it started, the fight is over and the bar goes silent.
Vinny peers around the edge of the bar cautiously. He surveys the wreckage before him and does a quick body count. The other boss and his men are all accounted for, lying in their rapidly growing pools of blood. Unfortunately, he sees that their other comrades had not made it out alive.
"I expect the funds in my account by the end of the day," the mercenary says simply. The guns seem to sink into her hands without a trace and she brushes invisible specks of dust from her immaculate combat gear.
"Who are you?" Vinny whispers.
The woman turns to him, her eyes obscured by a mirrored visor.
"Most people don't survive very long after hearing my name," she answers, amusement seeping through the tinny voice, "But those who seek my services call me Renegade."