Summary: It started out as a job. A simple, clean, easy as pie job, despite the fact that she had been blackmailed into it. Now suddenly, she was hanging upside down under a plane at 5,000 feet... WHAT?! How the hell did that happen?!
Hi, everyone! So this isn't my first fan fiction, but it is my first Expendables story. I have the first few chapters already written, so updates should be pretty consistent. I'll try to update often.
As with any author, I do love reviews. Constructive criticism is always welcome, but please no flames. If you absolutely hate my story, then simply don't read it.
Rating is M for language and sexual content in later chapters.
Disclaimer: I do not own The Expendables. If I did, there would be a lot more shirtless fighting scenes.
Chapter 1
You know those days where nothing goes wrong and the world is all sunshine and roses? Sami was having one of those days. She'd woken up to the fantastic smell of freshly brewed coffee, courtesy of her amazing new coffee maker. Upon running her fingers through her hair and stretching, she discovered that the neck pain that had been plaguing her the day before was gone. Even better was the fact that she had slept through the night without waking up, not even once.
All throughout the morning, little wonderful things kept happening. Her new shampoo and conditioner smelled amazing, her scale told her that she had lost a few more pounds, and even her fuzzy slippers were exactly where she had left them the night before. Her cat had a strange habit of taking them and hiding them all over the house.
The absolute icing on the cake, however, was when she opened her laptop, checked her bank account, and saw that she had received her payment in a magnificent row of a 2 and four 0's. She did a little happy dance, careful not to spill her mug of coffee, and pointed a finger at the black and orange calico cat next to her laptop.
"Betty darling, we're getting that awesome five tier cat tree. I don't care if it weighs a ton, we've got the funds to hire movers." By the end of her declaration, the tell-tale 'POP' of her toaster could be heard from her kitchen. Sami sauntered happily into her modest kitchen, coffee cup in one hand, her laptop in the other, and a calico at her ankles. Grabbing a small plate and setting her newly toasted pop tarts on the kitchen table, she started thinking about the different charities she was going to donate to this time. After her previous job and subsequent payment, several children's charities received sizable anonymous donations. The time before that, battered women's charities and shelters had received well over $50,000 in combined donations. That had been a particularly fruitful job, with a creep for a client and a satisfying payday. Sometimes you just have to take the bad with the good.
"Veterans' hospitals and foundations this time, I think," she finally decided. It was one of the first places she had donated to when she started this line of work, and it was due on the roster. With that settled, she started to get ready for the day. She was meeting a potential new client for lunch right at noon, and she wanted to make an impression.
Browsing through her extensive closet, she ran what she knew about the guy through her head. After being contacted by Mr. Emilio, Sami did an extensive background check and search on him. She didn't work for gangs, the mob, or the government, and she had to take extra care to avoid spooks when accepting her clients. Her initial search came up clean, but she did a secondary search to be safe. By the end of her investigation, she'd learned that Mr. Adam Cornelius Emilio had been married twice, had three children, had an honest job as an engineer at a rather brilliant design firm that specialized in airplanes and helicopters for the military, and was seriously addicted to online checkers. All in all, he looked completely harmless, and Sami was curious as to why a seemingly squeaky clean guy needed the type of help she specialized in. She had a reputation in the cyber underground for utter destruction of her targets.
Figuratively, of course. Whilst proficient enough in combat to take care of herself, she wasn't a mercenary. She was more of a cyber Robin Hood. She would work a job for some big wig client, take out the target financially or some such, and when she got paid (usually an outrageous amount of money that she insisted on and they had no choice but to accept) she would keep around 5% - 10% for herself and donate the rest. She especially like to take jobs where the target was immoral in some way, (I.E. corrupt judge or politician) and give back all the money that they had managed to squeeze out, to the people who'd been squeezed. On the occasions when there were no direct victims, she would donate to the charity of her choice. It made her feel good to give back to the people who needed it the most. She had been one of those people; she knew what it was like. Slipping into her heels, she looked herself over in her big floor length mirror.
"Not bad Skyhe," she murmured. A professional looking black blazer with the sleeves rolled up over a casual pink cotton cowl neck blouse, black stretchy skinny pants, and black velvet pumps completed her ensemble. She wanted to appear professional so Mr. Emilio would take her seriously, but casual enough to put him at ease. She helped people, and she wanted him to see that. Deciding that leaving her mid-back red hair down in its naturally wavy stated would work the best, she went to her bathroom to smooth over the few stubborn places that never wanted to lay right.
After digging into her own past when she turned 18, she knew she could thank her birth mother for her hair. It was as dark and vibrant as a candy apple, and grew at such a rate that she had to learn how to trim it herself to save money on salon fees every few weeks. Luckily, it didn't need much styling thanks to the semi-new trend of wavy hair. She knew tons of women spent a small fortune on hair products to get hair like hers, and it gave her a small amount of prideful satisfaction.
Tasteful makeup consisting of subtle black eyeliner in a cats eyes style, nude and light brown eyeshadow, simple mascara, and slightly shimmery nude lipstick came next. The last few touches were a simple gold, feminine watch, pink enamel rose stud earrings, and a small oval-shaped gold locket completed the look. Satisfied with her appearance, she checked the time. Her alarm clock read 11:22, giving her more than enough time to get to the cute little cafe on the other side of town. She didn't like how close it was to where she lived, but Mr. Emilio had insisted that time was of the essence, and that was the midway point between them. After rolling a lint brush over her pants, (thanks to Betty being adorably affectionate whilst getting fed) Sami grabbed her purse and keys, set her alarm, and walked out the door.
She unlocked her black four door Nissan and settled herself in. After making sure none of the neighborhood kids or dogs were behind her, she backed out and headed into town. She didn't live in the suburbs, but she lived close enough to them that she wasn't overly worried about petty crime. She decided to take the scenic route around the park to kill a little time. The sun was shining brightly, glinting off the small lakeside visible from the road. Sami desperately wanted to open the sun roof to let in some of the warmth, but she also didn't want to be swarmed by the enormous Louisiana mosquitoes. Self preservation won out, so the sun roof stayed shut. She'd have to take a short vacation to the beach to soak up some of these gorgeous sun rays after this job. Not that she'd turn any color other than red without some heavy duty sunscreen, but she loved the sunshine.
It took a pleasantly long time to get to the cafe, the car's radio playing nothing but her favorite classic rock the whole way there. As soon as she pulled into the parking lot, however, her good mood started to quickly deteriorate. There were three big black SUV's parked outside the cafe, and not a civilian car in sight.