Summary: Echo has been with the Black Dragon Clan for a little bit now and reflects on some interactions she's had with its members.
Author’s Note: Yes, the title is totally a reference to IASIP. Shout out to @chadillacboseman for the help with Alex and shout out to @obsess-much for the idea with Agnes.
Others OCs: Alex Demir @chadillacboseman Agnes Reed @obsess-much
If anyone else wants to be tagged, let me know please.
----
Echo knew fear.
But the fear she felt in the cement and fluorescent lights of the compound was different.
It wasn't the panicked fear she'd become accustomed to at the sight of a hallway light and the creak of her bedroom door. No, this was a creeping fear. A tide rising. Sometimes, it was seafoam lapping at her feet. Other times, it was thigh-deep and grasping. The slow, impending realization that this building was where she was to be indefinitely. Never again would she be able to return to normal life. She was indebted to Kano and she would die as a member of the Black Dragon. Often times, the compound felt like a mausoleum crafted of her own poor decisions.
But, Echo blossomed in adversity. She'd work as if her life depended on it, because ultimately, it did. And this was her life now, this building. Her filthy, sprawling domain. She'd learn every inch of it, every corner, every dusty shelf, every blood-stained floor.
Kano had made it very clear to her that she needed to be as useful as possible to the Black Dragon, lest he sell her to the highest bidder. There was no way in hell she would allow that to happen.
She didn't mind dying, as long as it was quick. But what those people had in store for her...she didn't want to think about it.
And so it began, her dedication to Kano, her boisterous, black-hearted, alcoholic boss. She became an indispensable silent partner. Always polite, always attentive, always precise, and never bothered. Well...most of the time.
Kano was difficult, to say the least. But he'd developed a trust in her abilities that gave her some small form of comfort, a hope that perhaps she would be too useful to sell out. But she wasn't holding her breath. In the mean time, she did what she always did: her best.
Working for the Black Dragon took some getting used to. She didn't mind doing the orders, she didn't mind hacking into whatever Kano wanted her to hack into. Hacking was second nature to her, and she knew she was one of the best. The torture, well, that was an acquired taste. She did her research on techniques, tools, what truly got into the human mind, and she grew accustomed to it. It was just part of the job. After all, what was torture but hacking the human body? Dig deep enough and you'd get the information you wanted.
Her degree in business management also came in handy, she learned. Problem-solving, organizing the storage rooms, keeping track of expenses, supplies, employees, files. Streamlining. She started doing it subtly, so Kano wouldn't feel threatened by her or offended at her suggestions. But once he saw results? Kano was thrilled. With Echo around, Kano suddenly gained a lot of time for drinking, fucking, and sleeping, while she gained dark eye circles and an increasing urge to throw things at his head.
-
However, Kano was not alone in running the Black Dragon. He had a second-in-command known only as “Kabal.” She didn't know if it was his first name or his last name, but she did know this: he was an asshole. Kabal was that guy who always had something to say and never ran out of breath to say it. He was a condescending, sarcastic prick to everyone because he knew he could get away with it. The man was inconceivably fast, zooming around in a violet blur, and could bisect you within seconds with his hook-swords. No one fucked with Kabal, and rightfully so. But Echo pitied him.
The first time Echo saw Kabal, she was puzzled. He looked like a villain from a horror movie: a metal mask with glowing red eyes, gnarled pink skin that reminded her of tree bark peeking out from his blood-stained armor, dangerous-looking hooked swords that crossed his back. He was deeply, truly intimidating.
During her first meeting with Kano, Kabal had been ordered to wait with her outside while Kano discussed her performance with Erron Black. It wasn't until they were alone that she could look at him properly. His forearms and neck were the only parts of him not covered, and upon closer inspection she realized the gnarled pink skin was burns. Severe burns. She had seen pictures of third degree burns before, mostly on medical and gore subreddits and in her roommate's medical textbooks. They met the criteria. Now that she had a view of his back, she could see there were also two tanks holstered to his armor. They were connected by ribbed tubes, almost like the kind you'd see on a vacuum cleaner, to his mask. Reading the fine print on the green tanks, she learned they were filled with oxygen. Did he need those to breathe? Burns. Oxygen. He must have been in a fire. What a terrible thing to experience.
By this point, Kabal had become acutely aware of Echo's penetrative stare and slowly turned to her.
“Got a problem, princess?”
“No.” She met his eyes as best she could, given his mask. “I like your swords. They're...a choice. Unique.”
Kabal huffed, crossed his arms, and leaned against the wall in annoyed silence. When Erron came to retrieve her, she gave the masked man a lingering look.
Poor guy.
When Kabal rolled in for ordering day, he was just as grouchy as ever. At this point Echo expected it. She saw him around the base, would meet with him for debriefings, run into him in the mess hall, and he was always a grumpy ass. Alex told her to not to pay any mind to it, and that he was an okay guy underneath the bravado, so Echo didn't take it personally. Perhaps, with time and effort, she could get into his good graces. When Kabal strode into her office, he greeted her the same way he always did.
“Hey, blondie.”
“Hello, Kabal. What can I do for you this week?”
“Same as last week.”
“The tanks? About that,” Echo began, “I noticed my predecessor only ordered one type of canister for you. Is there a reason for that?”
“I dunno,” Kabal shrugged, “What's it matter to you?”
“Sleeping with canisters that size must be awfully uncomfortable.”
“Thinking about me in bed, eh?” Kabal crossed his arms, and although she couldn't see his face, she knew he had a smirk plastered on it. The arrogance practically wafted off him.
“Anyway,” She began, pointedly ignoring the comment and continuing, “I was thinking I could start ordering two types of canisters for you. The larger ones for missions, and the smaller ones for sleeping, bathing, and so forth. There's also a special type of holster for the smaller canisters that's much easier to move around with.” Echo pointed to the screen. “See? It clips on to your belt and attaches to the thigh, almost like a gun holster.”
“Huh.” Kabal sounded mildly interested but a little confused by the kindness. “Thanks, I guess.”
“You're welcome,” Echo said, “And do you need more of your scar cream?”
“...yeah.” The sharp sting of embarrassment pierced through the bravado.
“Noted,” Echo said, clicking away on her computer, “I might be able to find something better for you in that regard as well, but do give me time.”
“Uh, sure,” Kabal said, shifting uncomfortably.
“Is that everything?” Echo asked.
“Yeah.”
Echo turned to face him, but just like that, he was gone in a blur of violet.
-
If Kabal was second-in-command, Echo supposed Erron Black could be considered third-in-command.
The cowboy.
The cowboy perplexed her.
There was something off about him that Echo couldn't quite put into words. Something different. Not bad different...just...different.
That night out in the woods stuck with her. How could it not, after what she did?
It was that night where she she noticed immediately the way he conducted himself. The slow stride. Every action, every move with purpose. The collected and polite, but rather dismissive, demeanor.
The pet names.
Usually she'd find that kind of behavior mildly condescending, but he didn't seem to be doing it in any malicious or belittling way. He seemed to respect her on some level. That was just how he talked to people.
He kept to himself, as far as she could tell, minus hanging out at the bar to drink and play pool with the other agents. He liked whiskey and he was shockingly good at pool, she learned. He was polite to Echo when they spoke and always gave a small tip of his hat to her when they passed each other in the halls of the compound. He almost always wore a mask unless he was eating or at the bar, so all she could see were his eyes most of the time.
On ordering day, he needed very little, just many, many boxes of bullets, cleaning supplies for his guns, and whiskey stocked at the bar. That was it. He would give his order to her on a scrap of paper written in the weirdest, scrawling handwriting she'd ever seen, give her a little nod and a tip of his hat, and then leave, the sound of spurs resounding in the stairwell. He always left her office smelling like gunpowder and aftershave.
He said things like “reckon” and “mighty kind.” Sure, any Southerner could say those things. But there was something about his presence. How he said it.
It was like he was plucked straight from the Oregon Trail game her father used to have on their family computer. Or he walked off the screen from one of those old PBS Wild West documentaries.
What was his deal?
Echo decided she would keep an eye on him.
She needed to know.
-
One thing Echo did know, for a fact, was that Alexander Demir was a surprising breath of fresh air in the base. She genuinely liked Alex, which was more than she could say for anyone else there. Alex was well-spoken and very polite to her on the rare instances that they spoke. Unlike the other members of the Black Dragon, Echo felt an overwhelming pleasantness emanating from the man. She often wondered what on earth he was doing here. He seemed woefully out of place, but Echo liked having him there.
When ordering day rolled around, Alex always appeared after lunch. He'd quietly knock on the door before entering, greet her respectfully, and have his list ready to go. She appreciated all of it.
Echo was in the middle of making tea when he arrived this time. One of her first purchases after a month at the compound was an electric kettle specifically for tea. It lived on her desk, next to a post-it note holder full of tea bags and a squeezable honey bear.
“Just the usual, Alex?” Echo asked, as she poured some water into her mug.
“Yes. Could you also get an extra box of C4 this time? I have a big job next week.”
That boy and his C4.
“Yes, of course.” As Echo typed that into the computer, her curiosity finally got the better of her. She needed to know. “Alex, may I ask you something?'
He looked a little surprised. “Sure.”
Echo turned and looked up at him. “Where are you from?”
Alex looked...uncomfortable? Although she couldn't see his face completely, she noticed his brows drew together slightly and his shoulders stiffened, but he answered her regardless.
“Istanbul. Turkey. Why?”
Echo realized she may have offended him, somehow. “I've never heard an accent like yours before. It's very musical? Very pretty. I was just curious. That's all.”
She watched as the tension in his face and shoulders melted away, his pleasant demeanor returning.
“Oh. Thank you.” He sounded a little embarrassed.
Echo flipped through the tea-bags on her desk and pulled out a packet of Earl Grey. Alex chuckled for a moment.
Echo turned to him as she ripped the packet open.“What's so funny?”
“Picard.”
The words slipped out before she could stop herself. “...you mean, like, Jean-Luc?”
Alex's mismatched eyes widened and Echo realized she'd said too much.
Goddammit...
“You like Star Trek?” Alex asked.
GodDAMMIT. How could she be so stupid? She could throw herself into the sea right now, but unfortunately, there wasn't one anywhere close to the base.
“Do you have a favorite?” Alex sounded borderline giddy.
“I was always partial to Deep Space Nine and Next Gen,” Echo admitted, sipping her tea delicately.
“Deep Space Nine is my favorite! Do you have a favorite season? Mine is season 7.”
“Season 6. In the Pale Moonlight was an incredible episode. That season also had the escalation of the Dominion War.”
“That one was so good!”
His enthusiasm was infectious, but she had a long day ahead of her. She felt a twinge of guilt as she said, “Alexander. I would like to discuss this more with you, but unfortunately, I have a lot to accomplish today. Can we continue this discussion another time?”
He looked a little disappointed at first, but when he heard the last sentence he perked up. “I would like that. Whenever you'd like to, that is.”
“Is there anything else you need me to order?”
There was a short silence. Echo waited patiently for an answer and watched Alex closely. He looked deep in thought for a few moments, eyes darting from the floor to the door behind him. After he made sure no one was around, he got slightly closer to her and leaned down to her level. “Ineedfiltersformymask.”
Echo blinked. “I'm sorry, what was that?”
“I need filters. For my mask.” He pointed to the black cloth mask with the skeletal mouth design. He was almost never seen without it, unless he was eating or drinking, similar to Erron.
What was with this group and masks, anyhow?
“It's practical? I thought you wore it for the aesthetic. What's the purpose, if I may ask?”
“I have a condition. Don't tell anyone, please.” There was worry in his voice.
“I won't. As long as you don't tell anyone I like Star Trek. Understood?”
He gave her a thumbs up.
Echo turned to her monitor and began typing again. “I'll buy you the high quality filters. Come see me to get them. I won't let anyone see what's in the box.”
“Thank you, Echo. That's all I need.” He turned towards to door and began walking away.
She shifted in her seat and sighed. It was just Alex. She could trust him, couldn't she?
“If you're around Thursday, we could talk then. I should be free in the evening.”
He stopped in the doorway and turned around, and hesitantly offered, “We could eat and then talk after? If you want.”
“Sure.” Echo nodded, made eye contact with him briefly, and then faced her screen once more.
“Cool. See you Thursday, then!”
Alex gave a little awkward wave and disappeared up the stairs.
-
Echo knew if she went to dinner with Alex, it would appease Agnes for a little while. Every time Echo went upstairs for coffee, she could feel Agnes watching her pointedly.
Agnes was an interesting person. That was putting it mildly.
Agnes had the mouth of a sailor. Several sailors. An entire boat's worth, perhaps. But Echo found it kind of charming, in it's own way. Agnes had zero qualms telling people about themselves, at a loud volume, with ample profanity. Echo envied that kind of freedom.
Despite her mouth and attitude, Agnes seemed to care deeply for the agents, particularly Alex and Kabal. She had a motherly presence about her even though she wasn't much older than most of the agents. They enjoyed her stories and took in the advice she gave whether they wanted it or not, and they stayed out of her way otherwise. Echo had heard a rumor about a thrown cast-iron pan once, and for her own safety, she stayed of Agnes' kitchen as much as possible. It was unwise to piss off someone like that.
It was around 3:30pm on ordering day. A few more agents had come and gone. Echo was typing away her keyboard, enjoying the brief reprieve, when she felt a presence in her doorway. She looked up to find Agnes, arms crossed, hovering in the threshold.
“Hello, Agnes,” Echo began, polite as always, “Do you need help with something?”
Agnes approached the desk, her eyes narrowed and arms remaining crossed. “Well, it's ordering day, ain't it?”
“Indeed it is,” Echo replied, “What do you have for me?”
“A question.”
Echo raised an eyebrow, but remained pleasant. “Ask away.”
“What the hell do you eat?”
Echo eyed her. “...Food, presumably.”
“Smart-ass,” Agnes rolled her eyes, “You barely come up for food. The only time I see you up there is when Alex makes you. Otherwise you only get coffee or piece of fruit or something and then I don't see you for hours, sometimes not even the rest of the day. What the hell do you eat?”
This again. Echo pinched the bridge of her nose. “Agnes, this really isn't necessary. I come up for food when I need it.”
“Bullshit,” Agnes slammed the notepad she was holding onto Echo's desk. “I ain't leaving til you answer me. I will stand here all fuckin' day.”
Echo's gaze went from the notepad, to Agnes' face, back to the notepad. She knew that arguing with Agnes was fruitless. Agnes would stand there all day, glaring at her with those piercing blue eyes, holding the notepad like a weapon. Echo knew when to pick her battles and when to surrender. This was a time to surrender.
“If you insist,” Echo said, “Do you...want a list?” She gestured to the notepad, which already had Agnes' kitchen order scribbled on it.
“Breakfasts. Lunches. Dinners. From now on you're getting food twice a day whether you want it or not. You're gonna fuckin' waste away if you keep this up. Kano already works you too hard anyhow.”
At least someone noticed.
“Yes, ma'am,” Echo took out her pen, gave it a click and flipped to a blank page of the yellow legal pad. Carefully, she wrote out a sample menu of what she ate, and then handed it back to Agnes. “Is this to your liking?”
“Good enough,” Agnes said, a satisfied smile appearing. “If you don't come up for dinner by 6pm tonight, I will find you.”
“Yes, ma'am,” Echo repeated, “I will see you at 5:45pm.”
“Good. Now here's my list for the week.” Agnes tore the top sheet of the legal pad off, and handed it to her. “Clementines are in season. They're extra sweet right now so make sure to get two crates. I noticed you take all of them from the fruit basket.”
Echo cleared her throat and sipped her tea. Agnes had been watching her more than she realized.
“...I will do that. Thank you, Agnes. Is this all?”
“Yep. See you at 5:45, kid.”
Echo sat, holding her mug of tea, and sighed to herself as she began reading Agnes' order. Agnes left Echo alone at her desk, returning to the kitchen for prep work.
Echo supposed it was nice to know that someone cared.
Much thanks to @roofgeese and @chadillacboseman for the confidence boost to post this.
Real name: Agnes Reed
Nicknames: Ness, Nessie
Age/Date of birth: Unknown but she has been turning 39 this year for the past 4 years
Place of birth: Upper Peninsula Michigan
Height: 5’1”
Weight: 135lbs
Eye color: Blue
Hair color: Was black, now becoming more salt and pepper
Languages: English
Affiliation: Black Dragon
Job: Cook, also good with knives and whatever else is lying around the kitchen.
Not much is known about Agnes and her years before the Black Dragon other than she wanted to attend culinary school but could not afford it. Instead, she worked in various diners and small restaurants across the United States. She has mentioned she never stayed in one place too long, mostly because of her temper. She can be quite grumpy and does not tolerate any nonsense in her kitchen. (She has been known to throw things and hit people with various kitchen items) The day she was hired by Kano, she was working in a small diner when one of the customers grabbed a waitress and almost broke her arm. Agnes jumped the counter and hit the customer in the face with a cheese grater. Facing assault charges, she decided to take Kanos offer to work for the Black Dragon.
Even though her attitude is poor, she gives off big mom energy. Whenever someone has a bad day or is feeling down, they go to her kitchen where she will make them some comfort food and (with her favorite members only) gives them a kiss on the top of their heads. Everyone loves her food; it reminds them of home in each of their own way.
Kano has been afraid of her ever since she threw a cast iron skillet across the kitchen when she caught someone making fun of a recruit. The hole is still there, and he will not enter her kitchen unless invited. That was the one thing she asked of them when they hired her, that the kitchen was HER KITCHEN and her rules. Kabal visits when he’s feeling down about his scars/accident. She gives him the whole backroom to eat in peace with his mask off and will not let anyone interrupt him. Its his one space he has that Kano will not bother him. Sometimes after he’s done eating, she sits with him and they talk for hours. She has a massive crush on him.
She has a foul mouth and almost every sentence contains some version of the word fuck. Everyone makes fun of her resting bitch face, which she says, “it’s not resting bitch face, its just my fucking face.” Someone bought her a Top Chef coat (that came with the cookbook) as a joke, and she wears it all the time unironically. Certain members love making up new nicknames for her that all pertain to cooking in some way.
Summary: Alex (me) and Tigue (@mintspider) go on a smash and grab mission that goes wrong. Echo (@roofgeese) and Kate (@elligatorrex) are concerned in the aftermath. Agnes (@obsess-much) and Jo (@onesillybeach) are involved in the schemes.
Word Count: 2.5k.
--
“In and out,” Kano shouted over the roar of the jet, “Twenty fuckin’ minutes- grab the package and blow that fucker sky high, got it?”
Alex nodded and hooked his jump lead to his vest. Beside him, Tigue glanced up and offered him a warm smile. He liked working with her- she was efficient, and her powers had saved his ass more times than he could count.
“See you on the ground!” Tigue called. She sprinted to the ramp and leaped, gracefully, before turning and offering a wink as she fell backward into the darkness.
“Show off!” Alex yelled after her with a grin; she had no need for a parachute- a fact that she never let the others live down.
Alex waited for the red light above him to turn green and jogged to the end of the ramp; he felt his chest swell with fear for a moment before he hit the point of no return and jumped. His jump lead disconnected and he felt the air whip past him, roaring in his ears as he dropped rapidly.
“Count to five, then deploy your chute-” Jo demonstrated the motion of pulling the ripcord, “Simple as that.”
Alex yanked on the ripcord and felt a tug when his chute deployed and his fall slowed. When he finally opened his eyes, he glanced down to see the twinkling lights of the city between his feet. He swallowed, hard, to quell the nausea welling in his stomach as the ground rapidly approached.
He landed, catlike, on the roof of the target building and discarded his harness and chute.
“Tigue?” he whispered. There was no response. He flipped his NOD over his eyes and with a high-pitched whine, the goggles came to life, illuminating his surroundings in bright hues of green.
“Tigue-”
“I’m here!” Tigue’s whisper nearly sent Alex back to the jet and he cursed in Turkish.
“What’s the sitrep?” he pulled out his GPS and Tigue leaned over it, pointing at the screen.
“Asset is here,” she pointed to the center of the building, “Eighth floor. I can grab it, easy. Weak points are in the basement,” she gestured to the four corners, “support beams there, plus one in the center. If you plant the explosives, I’ll get the asset. Ten minutes, tops.”
–
Alex dropped his backpack to the concrete floor with a thud and began pulling out the charges. The basement was almost pitch black, save for the light generated by his LED headlamp. He worked quickly, placing the semtex on each beam until he had covered all five.
“Charges placed-” he radioed to Tigue and waited in silence for her answer.
“Copy. I have the package. Six minutes until dust-off.”
Alex pulled out his phone and began programming the timer, fiddling until he had set it for seven minutes. A narrow window, but that’s how Kano liked to play it.
Alex’s finger hovered over the “START” button when he heard a sound somewhere behind him; he scrambled for his shotgun and turned on his heel, brandishing the weapon in the direction of the noise. His headlamp fell on the frightened face of a small child, no older than seven, dirt-covered and trembling.
“Hey- hey what are you doing here?” Alex jogged over to the child and knelt down to his level, “You have to get out of here, bud- it’s not safe to play right now.”
The child sniffed and glanced over his shoulder; Alex adjusted his gaze and his headlamp illuminated the faces of several more children in the darkness. Behind them, he could see the dim glow of what looked to be flames and a few more, older faces hovering around it.
Shit.
“Do you…do you live here?” Alex knitted his brows and the child nodded.
Shit.
“Tigue-” he hissed her name into his radio, “We have a problem. Get down here.”
There was a pause, no more than a few seconds, and Tigue phased through the ceiling, landing gracefully on the concrete in the center of the room. Her eyes widened when they fell on the child, illuminated by Alex’s headlamp.
“Oh-” she looked fearful as she spoke, “How many?”
“I don’t know…maybe a dozen.”
“Alex…dust-off is in four minutes-” Tigue fidgeted with the silver briefcase she clutched in her hands.
Alex cursed and fumbled with his radio, “Kano- I…I’ve got people down here. In the basement. At least a dozen. I can’t blow the place.”
The radio was silent for a moment before it crackled to life, “Like hell you can’t. Get to the roof for fuckin’ pick-up and blow the charges, Demir!”
“Kano, there are kids here-” Alex was pleading as he released the call button.
“You heard me. Blow the fucking charges or I will have your fuckin’ head!” Kano snapped and the line went dead.
Alex took his thumb off of the call button and threw the radio against a nearby wall. The plastic shattered on impact and Tigue flinched as shrapnel phased through her form.
"Alex," she paused before continuing, weighing her next words carefully. She had never seen him like this before- he looked as if he was about to erupt. The entirety of his hulking figure was tense, vibrating with an emotion she couldn’t place, "We have to move."
Alex finally met her eyes and she instinctively took a hesitant step backward.
"No," he sounded calm, but his expression betrayed him, "We have to get them out."
Tigue knew it could be done- with her powers and his strength they could have the whole encampment out within ten minutes.
Ten minutes too many.
"Alex, we can't," she pleaded, "Kano will-"
"Tigue, listen to me," he fumbled with her hands for a moment before clutching them in his own, "I will not let these people die."
Tigue squeezed her eyes shut and sighed in defeat. Her own moral compass wasn’t skewed enough to let this happen.
"Okay. Let's go."
–
“What the fuck were you thinking, you fucking idiot?” Kano was yelling, his teeth bared as he berated Alex, “Do you know how much your little humanitarian effort cost me?”
Alex was silent, staring at the tiled floor at his feet as the Aussie’s voice boomed through the compound.
“I don’t pay you to go on your fancy little rescue missions. And on top of that, you roped one of my best agents-” Kano gestured at Tigue and she averted her gaze to the floor, “into your stupid little side quest!”
Something in Alex snapped and he took a step forward, closing the gap between himself and Kano in a fraction of a second.
“Choose your next words carefully.” Alex shoved a finger in Kano’s chest and the Aussie sputtered on his words, taken aback at the sudden burst of bravery.
“The fuck did you just say to me?”
“I will not kill kids for you, you piece of shit!” It was Alex’s turn to yell, and the others in the room flinched at the sound of it. Kate blinked in surprise and the compound’s lights flickered; she had never so much as heard him raise his voice- at least not like that.
Erron turned to Echo and cocked an eyebrow; Echo shook her head almost imperceptibly, her sage-colored eyes never leaving the spectacle in front of her.
“You’ve got some nerve, Turk-”
“Fuck you,” Alex snarled, his face twisted into an expression that looked foreign on his soft features.
“You talk to me like that and I’ll gut you like a fish, mate,” Kano rested his hand on the handle of the buck knife on his waistband.
There was a pregnant pause, bloated with tension. The whole room was silent as the others watched, eyes darting between Kano and Alex, waiting for their next words.
Alex finally broke the silence- his voice was barely more than a whisper-
“You can try.”
A sudden realization seemed to wash over Kano. He wasn’t looking directly into Alex’s eyes- no, he was looking up into his face. Alex had him by at least 30 pounds and four inches- he was covered from the neck down in body armor.
And every single person in that room was on his side.
The tension was palpable. Erron was the first to rise from his seat and move across the room; he was amused by the display, but he wasn’t stupid.
“Break it up,” he sauntered between the two of them and shoved his hands into their chests, moving them apart. Kano moved easily, but Alex planted his feet and glared at Erron, “I said, break it up-” Erron nodded his head pointedly and Alex finally backed down, turning on his heel and storming out of Kano’s office before any of the others could catch him.
“Wise move on his part-” Kano drawled as Alex disappeared into the hallway; his voice was calm, but devoid of his usual cockiness, “I’d have killed him.”
Erron scoffed and raised his eyebrows, “No you wouldn’t have.”
“The fuck you mean?” Kano folded his arms and leaned back against his desk.
“That boy would have ripped you in half. And I think everyone in this room might’ve helped him.”
–
“Alex?” Kate rapped gently on the door to his bunk and called to him through it. She could hear movement on the other side, but got no response, “Alex, please let me in.”
Inside, Alex ignored her. He hadn’t left his room in two days, and he had no desire to start now. He was still furious at Kano, and the rage was taking longer to subside than he expected.
Kate wasn’t the first to stop by- Agnes had dropped off food without a word and even Kabal said he’d “break the fucker down” if Alex didn’t come out.
“Alexander Demir. Do not make me get Tigue over here,” Kate pressed her ear against the wood and heard the muffled sounds of Alex moving across the room toward the door. She straightened up and felt her heart sink when he opened it.
Alex looked terrible. His hair was disheveled and there were large halos of darkness under his eyes. The t-shirt that was draped over his broad form was wrinkled and full of holes; she could see one of the large cuts from the mission on his chest- it looked red and angry, the start of an infection.
“Alex, I am taking you to the infirmary,” Kate grabbed his hand and he yanked it away, “What is wrong with you? That cut is going to make you go septic.”
“I don’t care-” he tried to swing the door shut and Kate jammed her foot in its path. There was a sickening crunch as several of her bones were snapped by the motion, “For Christ’s sake, Katie-” he stopped, he never used that name for her, not when he was in his right mind.
Kate pulled her foot back and waggled it gently, grimacing at the way her boot flopped like a limp fish, “Ah, give it a couple hours- but you, we have to get you to the infirmary. Please.”
“Fine.”
The two of them wandered toward the infirmary, Alex looming over Kate like a stormcloud as she limped along on her broken foot.
“You know, if you’d have punched Kano, we probably all would have joined in,” Kate glanced up at him with a grin. He didn’t return it, “Everyone is worried about you. Echo even came up with a rotation schedule for us to check on you.”
Alex exhaled through his nose and Kate caught the slightest glimpse of a smile before it disappeared.
"I tried to get Tigue to phase me through your door in the middle of the night, you know, ninja-style," she paused to make karate motions with her hands, "but we didn't know if you had set booby traps."
The half-smile bloomed into a grin and Alex stopped in his tracks, "You know, you're something else, Kate," he finally met her gaze and she returned his grin.
"Yeah, I know, now come on," Kate pulled his arm and dragged him toward the infirmary.
Doctor Mikhailov was bent low over a bed when they entered, speaking quietly into a tape recorder.
"Cause of death is...exsanguination," the Doctor murmured in his thick Russian accent, "Extensive bites from a serpentine creature in Outworld-" he paused and looked up when Kate and Alex entered.
"Yo doc, we need some help here," Kate called and Mikhailov rolled his eyes.
"Have a seat, Murphy-"
"No, not for me," Kate sighed, exasperated, "For him." She gestured at Alex and the doctor's eyes widened.
"Ah, Mr. Demir. Come, let's get those wounds looked at, hm?"
The doctor completed a thorough exam and cultured Alex's wounds while he stared at the floor like a chastised child.
"He will have to stay off of his feet for a while," Dr. Mikhailov handed Alex an orange bottle with no label and tapped the lid, "And take one of these with food, twice a day."
"Roger that, Doc," Kate mock saluted and steered Alex out of the infirmary, "Come on, let's get you back to your bunk."
--
"I don't need an escort, Kate," Alex protested as she walked with him down the hall.
"Nonsense, yes you do," Kate replied cheerfully, "Alright, here we are-"
Alex put his key in the lock and turned the knob, ready to be back in his bunk and free from Kate and her good intentions. He blinked and raised his eyebrows when the door swung open to reveal his bunk full of people.
"What-" he paused to take in the occupants- Erron, Kabal, Echo, Jo, Tigue, and Agnes were all packed into his small living quarters, "What are you all doing here?"
"Once Kate got you out, Tigue busted us in," Jo gestured to Tigue, who smiled sheepishly, "We were worried about you."
"Your behavior was unusual," Echo piped up from next to Erron, "We needed to make sure you didn't consider anything reckless."
"Yeah- very few of us have ever stood up to Kano like that," Kabal grinned, "And lived to tell the tale."
Alex felt a tightness in his chest as he looked around at the others in the room- they were a mess, a rag-tag group of fuck-ups working for a clan run by a maniac.
Summary: Kano welcomes Echo to the Black Dragon and Echo makes Clerks references.
Author's Note: Sorry this took so dang long. Writer's block and stress, you know how it is. Drabbles and Session 3 in the coming weeks. Alex may make an appearance shortly.
“Well then, Echo...welcome to the Black Dragon. Let me show you around.”
Kano rose from his chair and walked over to her, his heavy steps the only sound in the room. He was massive, taller than her by several inches and very broad. He gave her a long look with his organic eye as he passed her and pushed the door open.
“Come on then, girlie. Let's get to it.”
Echo followed him, her bags in hand. Kano began to lead her through the compound rather briskly, gesturing apathetically at things as they went. The compound was home to some of the full-time BD employees, she learned, and had amenities to suit their needs. Besides the practical spaces required for the operation to run such as storage rooms, the loading bays, the offices, the base also had bunks and lockers, and some fancier rooms for the more privileged members of the group, such as Kano himself, Erron Black, and Kabal. Additionally, there was a mess hall with a bar attached to it, bathrooms and showers, and a laundry room. It was like a college dorm for the morally corrupt.
Kano began to lead her down a metal staircase to the basement, every step they took resonated loudly in the stairwell. Not far from the staircase was a gray door. The chill down here made Echo suddenly very grateful that she was wearing a sweater.
“This is where you'll be staying,” he said.
When the door was pushed aside, it revealed what looked like a server room with an office at the forefront. The servers twinkled and hummed in the back of the room, big bundles of cables snaking from their ports and weaving across the floor. There was a large wooden desk with a double-monitor computer set-up, a very nice gaming chair, some sort of phone/intercom, and a lamp. To the side, there were two more doors. Kano booted the first door open, revealing a sparsely decorated bedroom. The former IT and cybersecurity person's room, she assumed.
“You can toss all of that shite,” Kano said, “He won't be needing it.”
Echo nodded, understanding the implications. She added that to her to-do list.
He kicked the second door open, revealing a bathroom, and then went to the center of the server room and leaned against the desk with his arms crossed.
“You can leave your bags here. This is your domain now, love,” Kano declared, “Once we're done with this tour, I want you to scour every fucking inch of the work that drongo did. Fix it. I have the passwords and security codes you'll need, but we'll be changing them shortly after. Any open port, any fucking flaw, however the fuck you found us, I want it fixed. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Kano.”
“You'll also be handling the ordering of supplies and shipments for us, just as your predecessor did. We have multiple drop-off locations and you'll arrange the pickup of the shipments. You'll be auditing them and making sure everything is there. Any discrepancies, you come straight to me. You'll be doing some orders weekly, some monthly. I'll show you the ropes. Think you can handle that?”
“Yes, Kano.”
He grinned wolfishly. “Good. Now, for the terms of your deal. I'll pay you a monthly salary to cover any personal expenses, but you ain't getting the percentage from jobs like the others. Deffo not as much, anyway. Just consider our protection your compensation. Maybe if you do well enough, I'll give you a bonus, yeah?” He chuckled, then continued, “Since you can't leave the base, any basics you need you can just order like everything else and take it out of your stipend. I'll give you half of your salary this week to get you started, the rest at the end of the month. That work?”
Echo nodded.
“Well, then, now that the terms are out of the way, follow me. We have something to take care of.” He stood up again and made his way to the door.
She dropped her bags to the floor and followed Kano out of her room, up the echoing stairs. They were back on the main floor, in the midst of all the hustle and bustle. He lead her down the hallway, passing several storage rooms, lockers, and bunks until they reached another gray door at the end of the hall.
“Ah, here we are.” Kano shot her a toothy smile, cracked the door open, and lead her inside.
The room was cold and bare with the exception of a single dangling light bulb and a grate in the center of the floor. The was a chair in the corner. The floor was intermittently stained. That told her all she needed to know about the purpose of this room.
There was a man lying on the cement, his hands bound behind him, and a gag in his mouth. He looked dirty, as if he'd been there for a while and there were deep purple bruises on his arms and face already. Some bruises were already fading to a sickly yellow-green, which confirmed for Echo that he had been there for at least a week. When Kano entered, the man's eyes went wide with fear.
“Looks like we just found your replacement.” Kano sneered, jerking his head in her direction.
Echo looked down at the man, her expression placid.
Not satisfied with the beatings the man had already received, Kano landed a few kicks to the man's stomach and laughed. Kano seemed to be enjoying himself a bit too much, Echo noted. The man dry heaved a few times and coughed fitfully, curling in further on himself as a defensive measure. Kano leaned down and grabbed the man by the back of his shirt and pulled him to his knees easily, his strength far outmatching the injured man's.
“Now then, mate. About your severance package.” Kano pulled a handgun from the holster on his thigh. The man flinched.
Kano flipped the gun in his hand and held it out to her by the barrel.
“Why don't you do the honors?” He turned and smiled down at her. It was not a friendly smile.
Kano watched as her pale, thin hand wrapped around the grip and tightened. He let go of the barrel and Echo looked down at it, feeling the heft of it in her hand.
“You know how to use a gun, don't you?” Kano asked.
Echo nodded once.
“Then show me.” He folded his arms and took a step back. He was smirking.
Echo leveled the gun at the man's forehead, her cold eyes meeting his fearful eyes. After a moment, his expression shifted to one of resigned acceptance. He knew this was coming. It was just a matter of when.
“My apologies. It's only business," Echo said flatly.
She fired the gun, the sound ringing painfully in her ears. The body collapsed backwards, blood and brain matter hitting the concrete in a grotesque display that reminded her of an abstract painting. Echo handed the gun back to Kano, her eyes not leaving the corpse in front of her.
Her first kill.
It took a moment for that to sink in. One of many to come, she suspected.
Killing was just part of the job, wasn't it?
He looked down at the body, “We'll take care of that later. By the way, this is our room for torture and body disposal. You'll be spending a lot of time here, too. Heard you've got a talent for it.”
Echo blinked, but otherwise did not show her confusion. The cowboy must have said something.
Torture and dismemberment were part of the job now, too, she supposed.
“Whatever you need done, I'll take care of it.”
“I like your attitude, blondie.” Kano laughed and turned towards to the door. “I'll introduce you to the crew and then you can get to work.”
He took her back upstairs to the main room and yelled for everyone to gather around. They stopped their work and wandered over to their boss and the new girl. The crew was a collection of...unique individuals. A fair mix of men and women, rough and tumble types, piercings and tattoos abounded. All shapes, sizes, colors and creeds united under the idea of unimaginable wealth and Kano's false promises.
“Listen up, you lot. This here's Echo. She'll be taking over security and logistics from now on. The other guy was...fired, you could say.” A few in the group chuckled. “Anything you need ordered you go to her. She'll also be auditing anything we bring in, so make sure everything's top notch, or you'll have me to answer to. Now, get back to work.”
The Black Dragon agents scattered, going about their business.
Kano looked down at her. “Get yourself settled. I'll call you when I'm ready for you.”
“Yes, Kano.”
Kano left her in the loading bay, making his way back up to his office to do who knows what.
Echo paused and assessed the situation. She'd been up for well over 24 hours now. She'd already accrued several items on her to-do list, and it seemed she'd be working with Kano at least part of the day restructuring their security and computer systems.
She needed a cup of coffee. Or two.
Possibly three.
To the mess hall she went.
The mess hall was part bar, part dining area, with the bar to the right and dining tables in the center. At the farthest end, there was a table with buffet-style food warmers, and the object of her desire: a coffee pot. A wave of relief fell over her so strongly that she was was able to ignore the lingering looks from the other Black Dragon agents as she crossed the room. There was a stack of clean mugs perched next to the coffee pot, so she grabbed one and poured herself a cup. She reached for the cream and tried to add some to the steaming mug, only to discover the container was empty. With a frown, she examined the room and saw a door leading back to the kitchen. She approached, empty container in hand, and knocked on the door.
After a moment, the door whipped open, revealing a short woman with striking blue eyes and salt and pepper hair pulled back into a ponytail. She was wearing a chef's coat.
She eyed Echo suspiciously, “Who the fuck are you?”
“My name is Echo. Do you have more cream?”
She huffed. “Echo, huh? Yeah, let me grab you some.”
The woman took the empty container from Echo's hand, disappeared into the back room, and soon reappeared with a carton of half and half.
“I'm Agnes,” she said, handing the carton over.
“Agnes,” Echo repeated, “Thank you.”
Agnes gave her a second suspicious look, complete with a raised eyebrow, and then she vanished behind the door once more.
Echo finished making her cup of coffee, promptly chugged half of it, and poured herself more. Mug in hand, she made her way down to the cold basement once more, seeking the solace of her new room. Once the door was closed and locked behind her, she sank into the desk chair, cradling the coffee in her hands like it was the only thing anchoring her to the earth.
Reality was careening towards her as she stared at her coffee mug: She was now part of an international crime syndicate. Job duties included: cybersecurity, logistics, torture and dismemberment, and murder.
Her CV had taken an interesting turn, to say the least.
Desperately, she wanted to make light of her situation to comfort herself, to poke fun at the Man in the Iron Mask, the Australian Terminator and goddamn Tombstone upstairs. Was this a mercenary group or a nineties video store?
I'm not even supposed to be here today.
She wanted to laugh, she really did. But she couldn't. She was too busy realizing her life as she knew it 36 hours ago no longer existed. The humor wasn't going to work this time.
This was her life now.
She was Echo, a member of the Black Dragon. And that's all she'd ever be again.
