Warnings: Swearing (but that’s a general given with this fandom)
Pairing: Gunny Wynn x Nate Fick
Tags; @msridcully @sempr-gumby @awkward-iguana (idk, you all expressed some kind of interest in this so I thought why not)
Summary: The one where Brad Colbert is a retired marine turned hitter-for-hire, Ray Person is a hyperactive motormouth hacker, Trombley is an unhinged kleptomaniac with little-to-no moral compass, Walt Hasser is a grifter who could get you to give him the last of your water in the middle of a desert and thank him, and Nate Fick is a retired Marine lieutenant who got sick of sitting around doing nothing and somehow ended up with four criminal masterminds on his hands to keep in line long enough to bring two corrupt but idiotic business men to justice.
(Click on pictures for better resolution)
“Ray, I need that exit,” Brad said, breathing heavily as he dragged the last security guard into a supply closet.
“Don’t get your panties in a twist, Bradley, this is a ten-digit passcode. It takes a delicate hand,” Ray replied, grinning as he watched the numbers spin.
“Yeah, well I can’t exactly stay here so I need that fucking exit,” he stressed, slipping back out into the hallway and moving quickly towards the door Ray was supposed to have open a minute ago. “I’m gonna be surrounded in thirty seconds if you don’t open that fucking door.”
“Well I don’t know, punch someone. Isn’t that what you normally do?” Ray sassed just as the door clicked open.
“Oh, I’m gonna punch someone alright,” Brad muttered to himself as he went through the newly-opened door.
“Guys, we don’t have time for this. Our window is closing,” Nate said, effectively putting an end to their bickering. “Walt, do you think you can get in there and stall for us? Trombley is still in the vault.”
“Yeah that’s a no-go, Boss. I know these guys. Schwetje thinks I’m a nephew of Raymond Patriarca from a money scheme a while back and I convinced his little toadie Griego that I was the grandson of the lost Grand Duchess Anastasia just last year. They may be stupid, but they’ll recognize me instantly. Sorry,” the grifter apologized, making sure to keep his back to the marks in question. Nate swore under his breath and drummed his fingers against his leg tensely.
“Ray?” He tried.
“No can do, LT. I’ve gotta be at my computer to get Trombley out of the vault when he gives the signal and I can’t do that out there. Plus, I can just feel my brain cells dying as I listen to you guys talk to them and I’ve only got so many,” the hacker said, only half-joking as he remotely opened another door for Brad. Nate sighed and wrung his hands but nodded to himself.
“Yeah, you’re right. Brad? You think you could get in there and keep them busy for a minute?” He was grasping at straws now and he knew it.
“That wouldn’t work. They already know me as Professor Alexander, and what reason would he have for being at this company meeting?” Brad pointed out and Nate groaned quietly in response. “Plus, my knuckles are a little bloody right now and I’m pretty sure even Hasser couldn’t explain that away.”
“Fine, I guess I’ll have to do it myself,” Nate said, tightening his tie and fixing his cufflinks ot make sure he looked presentable.
“Wait, really?” Brad asked, stopping short in the hallway at the prospect of Nate, their honest man, stepping out to grift.
“Shit, this client must be really important to you, LT. Hey, what was his name again?” Ray asked with a grin, knowing that even though no one could see him that Nate had a blush rising in his cheeks.
“Michael Wynn,” Walt practically purred into his comm, making the rest of them laugh.
“Oh, fuck you both,” Nate responded, too busy trying not to sound flustered to come up with something more eloquent.
