AN: Let me know what you think. Again these are going to come slow, so have patience :) Let me know about any mistakes as well. Thanks!
Barney Ross found himself in the large countryside of Bowie, Arizona which was far away from his New Orleans home. He had decided to make a trip out of this, driving his restored 1955 Ford f100. After it had been fixed from the time Gunnar had tried to defect from the group, it was in some desperate need of being driven. He drove with the windows down for the last forty miles, which gave him the chance to enjoy the difference in the smells that wafted into the window from the countryside. Many miles back he had passed a field of wild flowers. The sickly sweet smell had been overwhelming, but he found himself enjoying the way it clouded his senses. It was a lot different from the New Orleans smell that he was used to that was for sure.
Ahead on the left he saw another mailbox and he slowed down. He checked the address and found that it was the one he had been waiting to see. This was the place. He turned onto the dirt road and kept the pace slow as he found himself making his way deeper on the Dixon property. The smell of cattle and horses passed through the window which was a drastic change from the field of wild flowers he had passed.
He glanced to his left at the pasture that he drove next to. There was a mixture of Red Angus and Black Angus steer in the pasture, all grazing together in harmony. There were some horses in the same pasture, two of which were literally "horsing" around. At the pace he was driving he was able to watch as they chased each other through the grazing steer. Each time they got close to each other, they would nip each other playfully.
The road was long and he enjoyed the scenery of the ranch. He could tell that real work went into the upkeep of such a vast property. Just from the driveway leading to the heart of the ranch, he could tell that this particular farm stretched on for a long way. He honestly couldn't imagine owning so much land. At first he had thought he would be looking for a small farm, he shouldn't have underestimated the Dixon residence.
Finally the dirt road led to a house that was very similar to that of a stereotypical farmhouse. It was white and had seen better days in this time. He parked the truck, killed the motor, and stepped out of the vehicle. It was hotter than it looked. The sun was at its highest point in the sky, and bore down on him. Already he could feel the perspiration beading on his brow. From the vantage point he looked around one last time. He placed his hands on his hips as did so. There was a 1975 Chevy pickup next to his own truck where he had parked with fresh tracks leading to where it was parked. So there had to be someone there.
Finally he made it up to the house and knocked on the door. No one answered though, and he didn't hear any movement from inside the house. Just maybe they weren't in the house. He started to scan the property again from his spot on the porch, trying to see if anyone was nearby. To the left of the house there was a sizable barn and from inside he could see someone tending to a horse.
He stepped off the porch going towards the barn, all the while wondering why whoever was in the barn hadn't heard him. As he drew closer he heard the music and understood it had masked the exhaust roar of his truck. He stopped right before entering. It was right at the time the person looked up to see him. He held up a hand saying hello as he did. It was a woman and she put down the brush before turning to turn off the music.
"Can I help you?" she asked as she turned to look back at him. The sound of her voice was a raspy drawl, the way he imagined Janis Joplin spoke. He didn't miss her tone though, she clearly didn't appreciate his presence. He understood how it was unnerving for him, a sizable man, intruding onto her land. The way she stood was like a woman uncomfortable being alone with a male stranger. He was quick to try to offer a reassuring smile, but it didn't seem to ease her. She stood with her feet set apart as if she was standing her ground against him.
"Actually yes, I was hoping to find Sean and Sidney Dixon," he stated as her met her unwelcoming dark gaze. Her eyes were a light shade of green but despite the light coloring her gaze was dark, intense. "This is their residence am I correct?" he asked feeling small under the scrutiny of her stare. He wasn't sure what she was doing when she put her hands on her waist and sized him up. Her shaped brows drew together and it was as if she was gauging if she wanted to help him or not.
"Sean is dead."
That certainly was not what he expected to hear. He opened his mouth to offer his condolences, but she spoke first, "And I am Sidney."
He had expected that even less, but now he could see the rigid way she held herself upright was not of a woman standing her ground against an imposing stranger. The way she held herself was characteristic of a soldier. He looked into her eyes again and that thousand yard gaze told him more about her than the way she stood nearly at parade rest. The only problem with what she was saying was that they didn't allow women in the military the positions she had. Yang had procured as much as a military record of Sidney and Sean and they had both been in special warfare positions. That would be a conversation for another time he presumed.
It was just so surprising. He hadn't expected this woman to be one of the twins, but he searched her face and under her eye was that mole. It nearly blended into her tanned skin. For a moment he wondered about her ethnicity. The way her skin tanned from working outside made him think she had was American Indian. He took a moment to take her in. She was around 5'10", tall for a woman. She wasn't exactly slender, her old t-shirt and dust covered jeans couldn't hide the sinew muscles that she tried to hide with the too big clothes. Yet her muscles fit her frame in a feminine way. This was the body of a woman who was accustomed to hard labor. She had brown hair which he couldn't tell in the shading of the barn if it was dark or a light color, but she also had it pulled back in a braid down her back.
"What do you want?" she asked, drawing his attention back to the reason he was there.
"I came here to offer you and your brother a job," he said. He extended his hand and introduced himself. She just stared at his hand and he watched as she sighed visibly. He withdrew his hand when he realize she wasn't going to be cordial and extend the courtesy back to him.
"Mr. Ross, I don't want your job, and as you now know my brother ain't around to decide if he wants it."
"Ms. Dixon, I understand but at least give me a chance to better explain before you turn me down."
"You don't have to do that. You are in charge of a Mercenary group called the Expendables. Trust me I know more about private sector than you may think I do. I know why you are here and I am telling you the same thing I told the others: no. I am retired and I plan on staying retired."
As she spoke she went back to brushing down the horse who stood lazily there, dozing as she ran the brush over his sleek coat. He watched her work, trying to think about what he could say to convince her.
"I was retired once, you can see that didn't last. This is a lifestyle that you can't give up, you have to know that."
She stopped what she was doing to look sharply at him. Somehow he knew he had offended her. By the look she was giving him, he knew that she was about to throw him off of her property too. The muscle in her jaw flickered underneath her skin and she turned back to stare at the horse. She reached out to pet the freshly brushed coat and stayed quiet. She started to brush again, working lower on the belly of the horse. He hoped she was considering his words, but he really couldn't tell, and the silence unnerved him. It almost seemed like brushing the horse was her anger management therapy that was equivalent to counting backwards from ten.
"I understand why you are here, every other person who has stopped by my ranch has had the same concerns. If you don't recruit me who will? The thing is I am just one person, I don't have the desire to keep living the way I was. My brother is dead and he was the one who lead our team. The tree you are barking up ain't nothing but a husk of what it used to be. So I would advise you to not push my patience on this subject. My answer is no, and it ain't going to change."
He couldn't help but sigh. It was as if there were nothing he would be able to say that would sway her.
"Wish I could convince you, but I understand. If you ever change your mind though..." He started digging around in his pocket for a business card to the tattoo shop. She stopped him though.
"Barney Ross, New Orleans resident. 1917 Lou Bayou road. If I need to get a hold of you I will know how."
That unnerved him. The address she had given was not the tattoo shop's. It was his personal address. She had already known he was the lead of the Expendables, which hadn't surprised him overly much. Her knowing where he lived did surprise him. Yet it only seemed fair because here he was standing on her property.
"I hope one day you change your mind, and I hope when you do, that you choose us to work for," he said. For some reason he felt as if what he said was very empty. He hadn't even pitched his people to her, nor had he had to tell her they only took jobs where they made a positive difference. This was not going the way he had expected it to go, not one bit. Mostly he was still floored by the fact that they hadn't known that Sidney Dixon was a woman.
"If I ever decide to join a merc group, then I will consider yours. If it is good enough for Lee Christmas, then I am sure you guys are good people. He always had a good moral compass."
"How do you know Christmas?" he asked. She knew more about his group which meant she had done her homework. But that also meant that she had better resources than they had thought she had. And if she had known Christmas how hadn't he recognized her name when they were all speaking about her? Then again her name wasn't all that uncommon.
"I served one tour with the unit he was in. I wouldn't have called us friends, but I remember he was a good guy."
"Well then I do hope when you decide to return to being a soldier you will find me," he said.
She turned to stare at him. "If..." She whispered the correction to his statement. He kept saying when, she kept saying if. The way she narrowed her eyes at him he knew she wasn't at all happy about the way he kept assuming he could tell her future. She didn't say anything and he decided to just keep staying silent because if he kept offending her he would never get her to join their side.
"As nice as it was meeting you Mr. Ross, I think it is time you took your leave," she said as she just went back to caring for her horse.
