*Disclaimer: The following is a work of pure fiction based off the
Universal Pictures film, 'The Mummy'. All copyrights belong to them as
well as the character of Rick O'Connell. All other characters are the
creation of the author. It is rated PG-13 for languge, violence, and some
implied sexual situations.*
New Author's Note: Well, as I said in the original author's note, this was my very first attempt at writing a fan fic and well, writing in general really :) I reread it as I was about to pick up another fic that takes place after this one and it struck me that my writing really has improved (I hope) since I wrote this almost a year ago. But then, that's one of the wonderful things about computers: you can go back, and change things :) So here it is, 'Occupational Hazards : the Second Edition'
************************************************************************
Original Author's Note: This all started as a character for an RPG, Hannah Leone, a kind of special agent for the Foreign Legion. In trying to work out her backstory, especially her history with O'Connell, it just kept getting more and more elaborate until it became a whole story in and of itself. Since this started from an RPG, there are certain elements of Rick's character that come directly from PrincessZeldaBelle's writing of him. This is also not based on historical events in the strict sense. The gereral campaign movements described are based on information from WWI, but the specific events described never happened, at least, not that I or anyone else knows :) Also, I would hope it would go without saying, but there is no offense intended towards anyone of German desent, but in this particular war, the French (and thereby, the French Foreign Legion) were fighting against Germany and several other nations. At any rate, I do hope you enjoy it, or can at least fight off boredom :)
************************************************************************
"Just leave the money on the bureau on your way out," Hannah tossed nonchalantly over her shoulder in an undiscernible accent that hung like smoke in the room. She finished knotting the ties of her bodice and moved to a small mirror nailed on the wall of her sparsely furnished room. A little annoyed, she picked up a comb, raking out the tangles from the long mess of blonde hair. Looking past her own reflection, she could see her latest customer's hands slip into the top drawer where she usually kept her very modest income.
Damn Legionnaires! "I think you've got this in reverse," she smiled, folding her arms over her chest. "You pay me. If you think I'm paying you for whatever that was, you are sadly mistaken."
"Maybe you should have enjoyed yourself more then," the man sneered, pulling out the small roll of paper bills.
"Are you hard of hearing? I said to get your filthy hands out of there right now!" Hannah leapt at the money in his hand, but the man twisted her arm and using her own momentum against her, sent her sprawling to the ground.
"I guess you're just going to have to step up business," he grinned, leaning down and taking her chin in his hand. "Here," he added, tossing a couple of coins at her as he turned to leave, "thanks for the good time."
"That's it," Hannah hissed under her breath. She had taken all she was going to take from these worthless assholes. Taking aim, she threw the coins at the head of the retreating figure.
"Bitch," the man cursed as the coins sounded sharply against his skull. He raised his foot to send into her face, but she ducked out of the way and grabbing hold of his boot, twisted it, throwing him off balance. As he tottered, she threw him backwards against the wall.
"You want to see bitch?" she menaced, sending a foot into his stomach, "Just try that again."
The man made a short groan of pain and she seized the opportunity to dive into his pocket for her money, but he took hold of her wrists and threw her up to the wall. "Looks like someone needs to learn some manners," he muttered through gritted teeth.
*Far too easy,* Hannah thought to herself and seriously considered not taking advantage of the situation. Her momentary lapse into kindness lasted for about two seconds before she sent a carefully aimed knee to a very sensitive target. "Funny, I was thinking the same of you," she smirked as he staggered back in pain. He regrouped and lunged at her again, but she dodged to the side and planted her elbow into the small of his back. He hit the ground again with a sharp moan.
As she stood over the crumpled form gloating, Hannah could make out the sound of heavy feet running up the stairs. "Damn," she whispered running to lock the door. One legionnaire she could handle. She doubted how long she could hold off a group of them.
As she pulled her hand from the key, she felt an arm close around her throat and another pull tightly against her waist. *Shit* She tried to break away, but he held on tight with a vice like grip. God, she couldn't breath. He pulled tighter and gasping desperately for air, she clawed at his face. Her vision was starting to blur, but still, she struggled against him. Finally, with the last of her strength, she pushed with her feet against the door, sending them both careening backwards. A sharp thud hit her ear before she fell to the ground half conscious. She rolled over and saw the man lying beside her with blood seeping out in a pool around him. The large gash in his temple showed where he must have hit his head on the bureau as he fell. Had she been able, she would have laughed at the irony.
Unfortunately, at that moment, the door gave way with a splintering crash. Hannah tried to scramble to her feet, but something pushed her back down flat against the ground.
"Damn whore!" a voice she could not see growled. A large wad of spit ran freely down her neck.
Trying to hold on to some shred of dignity, Hannah tried once more to get up, only to be rewarded with a boot into her stomach. She doubled over in pain and barely caught sight of the riffle butt before it connected with her head.
************************************************************************
A horrible stench filled Hannah's lungs as she opened her eyes. God her head hurt. She couldn't make out anything in the darkness but the soft scurry of little feet somewhere nearby. Where ever she was, it wasn't the run down hellhole she had come to call home. Even at it's worst, the rats had known enough to stay out of sight and the stench had been limited to the occasional cheap cologne. Slowly recent events came back to her and she let her head fall back against the plaster wall. She let out an involuntary wince and tried to rub the sore spot, but found that one arm would not move independently of the other. *Great,* she thought staring at the heavy manacles, *they really mean business.*
How much time passed, she couldn't say. Time really had no meaning in the pitch black, but finally the sound of metal turning inside of metal drew her attention. She recoiled as light poured inside and the outline of a tall man appeared in place of the heavy wooden door.
"Good, you're awake," the man said as the door closed behind him. After a short cough, he added, "Now, would you mind telling me why you felt the need to nearly kill one of my men?"
"So he's not dead?" Hannah queried in an ambiguous tone. She really wasn't sure how she felt about it.
"No, he'll live," the man answered, either oblivious to her mixed emotions or ignoring them. "Though there was a while when we weren't sure. Now, would you like to answer my question, or shall I give you some time to think it over."
"It doesn't really matter, anyway, does it?" Hannah asked in a detached voice. "They are going to hang me, aren't they?"
She almost thought she saw something like the trace of a grin in the other's face. "Yes," he nodded at last, "they do want to hang you. Can you blame them?"
"Blame is a funny thing," she answered looking away. "Anyone can blame someone for something. If you ask me, people waste far too much time trying to place blame."
"Quite right," the man laughed. "Though there are thousands of men out there in the trenches that might argue with you on that one."
"Did you just come here to talk philosophy?" she snapped a bit on edge. Somehow, his cheery attitude didn't suit her at the moment.
"No, no I didn't," he said stroking his chin. Again, she thought she saw the slight flicker of a grin. "I am assuming you would prefer not to be hung?"
Hannah looked up at him suspiciously. "Actually, I thought it sounded like a lot of fun," she muttered sweetly, sarcasm dripping from her voice. "What is this? Some kind of game? Of course I would 'prefer' not to."
The man turned from her, again tactfully ignoring her curt attitude. "As I said, there is a whole war going on right now and before you say it doesn't concern you, it does. The fate of the entire world is hanging in the balance on this one. The Suez canal is key to the allied effort, without it, it will be virtually impossible to transport supplies or troops."
"I'm sure it is," Hannah said carefully, "so what does it have to do with me?"
"A few days ago, some important communications were ... removed from our Embassy and are on their way to the central offices in Germany. From there, they will be delivered to the Turkish army and the Suez Canal could very well fall into their hands."
It was Hannah's turn to smile. "Looks like you guys really slipped up, doesn't it?"
A cough was her response. "The man who took the papers has to return to France first before heading to Berlin. We were able to block the sea routes and he was forced to go to Morocco and up through Spain. If we act quickly, we can try to intercept him in Grenoble."
"Again," Hannah sighed disinterestedly, examining her nails, "all this is wonderful, but why are you telling it to me?"
"I need someone this man won't know. Unsuspicious, resourceful, and capable of defending themselves if the need arises. Besides," he paused grinning again, "if you were caught, there is precious little information you could give them."
"Hold on, you want me to go after this guy?" Hannah asked somewhat bewildered. This was not exactly what she had expected.
"Unless you had other plans," the man shrugged.
"You think you are so damn cleaver, don't you?" Hannah spat out.
"Of course, if you would rather stay here and be hung," he said turning to go, "I just thought I'd offer you a fighting chance."
"So I do this," Hannah said carefully, restraining her frustration, "I get to go on my way?"
"Well, I could certainly make the argument that we have better uses for you alive," the man smiled, turning back around to face her. "You are welcome to wait and see if you get any better offers."
As much as she didn't trust him, she knew this was the only chance she had. He knew that, too, had counted on it. Hesitantly, she accepted his offered hand. He lifted her up carefully from the ground and called for the guard to open the door.
************************************************************************
Hannah walked a little unsteadily into the Major-General's office. She had never had much use for the European style of dress and she was definitely not used to European shoes! "What possible purpose could these serve?" she muttered to herself examining the high heels.
"You'd be surprised," came the response from a young man sitting in the corner of the room. He flashed a subtle grin as she once more stumbled towards a chair.
Hannah's eye's floated quickly over him. Tall with chestnut bangs drifting into his face. That grin, though. Far too self-confident.
"Sergeant O'Connell, Miss...what was your last name?" Major-General Renaut asked suddenly looking up from the menagerie of papers on his desk..
Hannah shrugged as she sat, crossing her legs. "I really don't know, the question never came up."
O'Connell's grin got wider as Renaut coughed.
"Well," the general began, "I suppose we will need something." His hands began to shuffle once more through the papers, though his voice continued almost of its own accord. "It should be general enough, Jones, Smith..." but O'Connell's snickering cut him off. "You have something to add, Sergeant?" Renaut lifted an eyebrow as he peered over the document in his hand.
"Sir," O'Connell sat up suddenly trying to be very serious, "no sir, it's just that, well, those don't seem to suit her very well."
"And what would you suggest, Sergeant," Renaut remarked, clasping his hands on the desk in front of him, almost daring O'Connell to answer.
"Well, I," O'Connell began, hesitantly.
Hannah sat back and amused herself with the arrogant young man's sudden flash of discomfort. A hint of a smile played gently on her lips as O'Connell's eyes darted about the room.
"How about Leone, sir?" O'Connell answered at last as he read the name off of a box of cigars behind Renaut's desk.
Hannah opened her mouth to object, but Renaut nodded before she had the chance.
"Leone...yes, that will do nicely," he agreed and went back to the papers.
Hannah clenched her teeth and shot O'Connell a look full of all the ice that could survive in that desert climate.
"Well then, Miss Leone, meet Sergeant O'Connell," Renaut smiled oblivious to what had just transpired.
"Charmed," Hannah said less than enthusiastically.
"The feeling is mutual," the other replied with that same arrogant grin.
"Sergeant O'Connell will be joining you on your journey," Renaut added, still unaware of the veiled animosity.
"Him?" Hannah choked, more than a little disconcerted. "Great. I get to be stuck with a babysitter."
O'Connell raised an eyebrow at her, then turned back to Renaut, "Sir, if she would rather not have my help..."
"The matter is not up for debate. You," Renaut said looking sternly at Hannah, "should be glad for anything you are given at this point, and you," he turned his attention to O'Connell, "try cooperating with someone besides yourself and don't just barge in, guns blazing." He stood and pulled yet another stack of papers out of the cabinet in the corner. Picking up a pen, he began to carefully fill in the blank spaces. "You will leave today for Toulon by ship and assuming you aren't attacked by a German u-boat, head north about 200 kilometers to Grenoble. That's where you should find our Mr. Carter. He will pass on a phony report to the embassy office there before heading to Berlin with the actual documentation." After what seemed an eternity of listening to the scratching Renaut's pen made against the cheap paper, he looked back up at the two of them. "I think we can pass you two off as brother and sister."
Hannah looked a little distastefully at her new family.
"Oh, come on, lil' sis, it's not that bad," O' Connell smiled halfheartedly.
"Just try not to talk too much," Hannah shook her head. "I can't imagine trying to explain that horrible accent."
"Oh look who's..." O'Connell started before Renaut coughed.
"I would advise both of you to put your personal feelings in check. This really is of the most serious and important nature." Renaut's voice was deep and somber as he leaned across the desk, "All of our efforts up to this point could be totally wasted if those documents aren't recovered." He sighed heavily sinking into the depths of his chair. "There is a lot riding in this, do not make me regret my generosity." His eyes raised slowly to meet Hannah's.
She in turn dropped her gaze. Gritting her teeth, she raised her head and looked back up at O'Connell. This was going to be far more difficult than she had bargained for, but as the major-general oh so tactfully pointed out, she really didn't have a choice in the matter.
New Author's Note: Well, as I said in the original author's note, this was my very first attempt at writing a fan fic and well, writing in general really :) I reread it as I was about to pick up another fic that takes place after this one and it struck me that my writing really has improved (I hope) since I wrote this almost a year ago. But then, that's one of the wonderful things about computers: you can go back, and change things :) So here it is, 'Occupational Hazards : the Second Edition'
************************************************************************
Original Author's Note: This all started as a character for an RPG, Hannah Leone, a kind of special agent for the Foreign Legion. In trying to work out her backstory, especially her history with O'Connell, it just kept getting more and more elaborate until it became a whole story in and of itself. Since this started from an RPG, there are certain elements of Rick's character that come directly from PrincessZeldaBelle's writing of him. This is also not based on historical events in the strict sense. The gereral campaign movements described are based on information from WWI, but the specific events described never happened, at least, not that I or anyone else knows :) Also, I would hope it would go without saying, but there is no offense intended towards anyone of German desent, but in this particular war, the French (and thereby, the French Foreign Legion) were fighting against Germany and several other nations. At any rate, I do hope you enjoy it, or can at least fight off boredom :)
************************************************************************
"Just leave the money on the bureau on your way out," Hannah tossed nonchalantly over her shoulder in an undiscernible accent that hung like smoke in the room. She finished knotting the ties of her bodice and moved to a small mirror nailed on the wall of her sparsely furnished room. A little annoyed, she picked up a comb, raking out the tangles from the long mess of blonde hair. Looking past her own reflection, she could see her latest customer's hands slip into the top drawer where she usually kept her very modest income.
Damn Legionnaires! "I think you've got this in reverse," she smiled, folding her arms over her chest. "You pay me. If you think I'm paying you for whatever that was, you are sadly mistaken."
"Maybe you should have enjoyed yourself more then," the man sneered, pulling out the small roll of paper bills.
"Are you hard of hearing? I said to get your filthy hands out of there right now!" Hannah leapt at the money in his hand, but the man twisted her arm and using her own momentum against her, sent her sprawling to the ground.
"I guess you're just going to have to step up business," he grinned, leaning down and taking her chin in his hand. "Here," he added, tossing a couple of coins at her as he turned to leave, "thanks for the good time."
"That's it," Hannah hissed under her breath. She had taken all she was going to take from these worthless assholes. Taking aim, she threw the coins at the head of the retreating figure.
"Bitch," the man cursed as the coins sounded sharply against his skull. He raised his foot to send into her face, but she ducked out of the way and grabbing hold of his boot, twisted it, throwing him off balance. As he tottered, she threw him backwards against the wall.
"You want to see bitch?" she menaced, sending a foot into his stomach, "Just try that again."
The man made a short groan of pain and she seized the opportunity to dive into his pocket for her money, but he took hold of her wrists and threw her up to the wall. "Looks like someone needs to learn some manners," he muttered through gritted teeth.
*Far too easy,* Hannah thought to herself and seriously considered not taking advantage of the situation. Her momentary lapse into kindness lasted for about two seconds before she sent a carefully aimed knee to a very sensitive target. "Funny, I was thinking the same of you," she smirked as he staggered back in pain. He regrouped and lunged at her again, but she dodged to the side and planted her elbow into the small of his back. He hit the ground again with a sharp moan.
As she stood over the crumpled form gloating, Hannah could make out the sound of heavy feet running up the stairs. "Damn," she whispered running to lock the door. One legionnaire she could handle. She doubted how long she could hold off a group of them.
As she pulled her hand from the key, she felt an arm close around her throat and another pull tightly against her waist. *Shit* She tried to break away, but he held on tight with a vice like grip. God, she couldn't breath. He pulled tighter and gasping desperately for air, she clawed at his face. Her vision was starting to blur, but still, she struggled against him. Finally, with the last of her strength, she pushed with her feet against the door, sending them both careening backwards. A sharp thud hit her ear before she fell to the ground half conscious. She rolled over and saw the man lying beside her with blood seeping out in a pool around him. The large gash in his temple showed where he must have hit his head on the bureau as he fell. Had she been able, she would have laughed at the irony.
Unfortunately, at that moment, the door gave way with a splintering crash. Hannah tried to scramble to her feet, but something pushed her back down flat against the ground.
"Damn whore!" a voice she could not see growled. A large wad of spit ran freely down her neck.
Trying to hold on to some shred of dignity, Hannah tried once more to get up, only to be rewarded with a boot into her stomach. She doubled over in pain and barely caught sight of the riffle butt before it connected with her head.
************************************************************************
A horrible stench filled Hannah's lungs as she opened her eyes. God her head hurt. She couldn't make out anything in the darkness but the soft scurry of little feet somewhere nearby. Where ever she was, it wasn't the run down hellhole she had come to call home. Even at it's worst, the rats had known enough to stay out of sight and the stench had been limited to the occasional cheap cologne. Slowly recent events came back to her and she let her head fall back against the plaster wall. She let out an involuntary wince and tried to rub the sore spot, but found that one arm would not move independently of the other. *Great,* she thought staring at the heavy manacles, *they really mean business.*
How much time passed, she couldn't say. Time really had no meaning in the pitch black, but finally the sound of metal turning inside of metal drew her attention. She recoiled as light poured inside and the outline of a tall man appeared in place of the heavy wooden door.
"Good, you're awake," the man said as the door closed behind him. After a short cough, he added, "Now, would you mind telling me why you felt the need to nearly kill one of my men?"
"So he's not dead?" Hannah queried in an ambiguous tone. She really wasn't sure how she felt about it.
"No, he'll live," the man answered, either oblivious to her mixed emotions or ignoring them. "Though there was a while when we weren't sure. Now, would you like to answer my question, or shall I give you some time to think it over."
"It doesn't really matter, anyway, does it?" Hannah asked in a detached voice. "They are going to hang me, aren't they?"
She almost thought she saw something like the trace of a grin in the other's face. "Yes," he nodded at last, "they do want to hang you. Can you blame them?"
"Blame is a funny thing," she answered looking away. "Anyone can blame someone for something. If you ask me, people waste far too much time trying to place blame."
"Quite right," the man laughed. "Though there are thousands of men out there in the trenches that might argue with you on that one."
"Did you just come here to talk philosophy?" she snapped a bit on edge. Somehow, his cheery attitude didn't suit her at the moment.
"No, no I didn't," he said stroking his chin. Again, she thought she saw the slight flicker of a grin. "I am assuming you would prefer not to be hung?"
Hannah looked up at him suspiciously. "Actually, I thought it sounded like a lot of fun," she muttered sweetly, sarcasm dripping from her voice. "What is this? Some kind of game? Of course I would 'prefer' not to."
The man turned from her, again tactfully ignoring her curt attitude. "As I said, there is a whole war going on right now and before you say it doesn't concern you, it does. The fate of the entire world is hanging in the balance on this one. The Suez canal is key to the allied effort, without it, it will be virtually impossible to transport supplies or troops."
"I'm sure it is," Hannah said carefully, "so what does it have to do with me?"
"A few days ago, some important communications were ... removed from our Embassy and are on their way to the central offices in Germany. From there, they will be delivered to the Turkish army and the Suez Canal could very well fall into their hands."
It was Hannah's turn to smile. "Looks like you guys really slipped up, doesn't it?"
A cough was her response. "The man who took the papers has to return to France first before heading to Berlin. We were able to block the sea routes and he was forced to go to Morocco and up through Spain. If we act quickly, we can try to intercept him in Grenoble."
"Again," Hannah sighed disinterestedly, examining her nails, "all this is wonderful, but why are you telling it to me?"
"I need someone this man won't know. Unsuspicious, resourceful, and capable of defending themselves if the need arises. Besides," he paused grinning again, "if you were caught, there is precious little information you could give them."
"Hold on, you want me to go after this guy?" Hannah asked somewhat bewildered. This was not exactly what she had expected.
"Unless you had other plans," the man shrugged.
"You think you are so damn cleaver, don't you?" Hannah spat out.
"Of course, if you would rather stay here and be hung," he said turning to go, "I just thought I'd offer you a fighting chance."
"So I do this," Hannah said carefully, restraining her frustration, "I get to go on my way?"
"Well, I could certainly make the argument that we have better uses for you alive," the man smiled, turning back around to face her. "You are welcome to wait and see if you get any better offers."
As much as she didn't trust him, she knew this was the only chance she had. He knew that, too, had counted on it. Hesitantly, she accepted his offered hand. He lifted her up carefully from the ground and called for the guard to open the door.
************************************************************************
Hannah walked a little unsteadily into the Major-General's office. She had never had much use for the European style of dress and she was definitely not used to European shoes! "What possible purpose could these serve?" she muttered to herself examining the high heels.
"You'd be surprised," came the response from a young man sitting in the corner of the room. He flashed a subtle grin as she once more stumbled towards a chair.
Hannah's eye's floated quickly over him. Tall with chestnut bangs drifting into his face. That grin, though. Far too self-confident.
"Sergeant O'Connell, Miss...what was your last name?" Major-General Renaut asked suddenly looking up from the menagerie of papers on his desk..
Hannah shrugged as she sat, crossing her legs. "I really don't know, the question never came up."
O'Connell's grin got wider as Renaut coughed.
"Well," the general began, "I suppose we will need something." His hands began to shuffle once more through the papers, though his voice continued almost of its own accord. "It should be general enough, Jones, Smith..." but O'Connell's snickering cut him off. "You have something to add, Sergeant?" Renaut lifted an eyebrow as he peered over the document in his hand.
"Sir," O'Connell sat up suddenly trying to be very serious, "no sir, it's just that, well, those don't seem to suit her very well."
"And what would you suggest, Sergeant," Renaut remarked, clasping his hands on the desk in front of him, almost daring O'Connell to answer.
"Well, I," O'Connell began, hesitantly.
Hannah sat back and amused herself with the arrogant young man's sudden flash of discomfort. A hint of a smile played gently on her lips as O'Connell's eyes darted about the room.
"How about Leone, sir?" O'Connell answered at last as he read the name off of a box of cigars behind Renaut's desk.
Hannah opened her mouth to object, but Renaut nodded before she had the chance.
"Leone...yes, that will do nicely," he agreed and went back to the papers.
Hannah clenched her teeth and shot O'Connell a look full of all the ice that could survive in that desert climate.
"Well then, Miss Leone, meet Sergeant O'Connell," Renaut smiled oblivious to what had just transpired.
"Charmed," Hannah said less than enthusiastically.
"The feeling is mutual," the other replied with that same arrogant grin.
"Sergeant O'Connell will be joining you on your journey," Renaut added, still unaware of the veiled animosity.
"Him?" Hannah choked, more than a little disconcerted. "Great. I get to be stuck with a babysitter."
O'Connell raised an eyebrow at her, then turned back to Renaut, "Sir, if she would rather not have my help..."
"The matter is not up for debate. You," Renaut said looking sternly at Hannah, "should be glad for anything you are given at this point, and you," he turned his attention to O'Connell, "try cooperating with someone besides yourself and don't just barge in, guns blazing." He stood and pulled yet another stack of papers out of the cabinet in the corner. Picking up a pen, he began to carefully fill in the blank spaces. "You will leave today for Toulon by ship and assuming you aren't attacked by a German u-boat, head north about 200 kilometers to Grenoble. That's where you should find our Mr. Carter. He will pass on a phony report to the embassy office there before heading to Berlin with the actual documentation." After what seemed an eternity of listening to the scratching Renaut's pen made against the cheap paper, he looked back up at the two of them. "I think we can pass you two off as brother and sister."
Hannah looked a little distastefully at her new family.
"Oh, come on, lil' sis, it's not that bad," O' Connell smiled halfheartedly.
"Just try not to talk too much," Hannah shook her head. "I can't imagine trying to explain that horrible accent."
"Oh look who's..." O'Connell started before Renaut coughed.
"I would advise both of you to put your personal feelings in check. This really is of the most serious and important nature." Renaut's voice was deep and somber as he leaned across the desk, "All of our efforts up to this point could be totally wasted if those documents aren't recovered." He sighed heavily sinking into the depths of his chair. "There is a lot riding in this, do not make me regret my generosity." His eyes raised slowly to meet Hannah's.
She in turn dropped her gaze. Gritting her teeth, she raised her head and looked back up at O'Connell. This was going to be far more difficult than she had bargained for, but as the major-general oh so tactfully pointed out, she really didn't have a choice in the matter.