* 2022-09-20

A new idea has formed. I'm not sure where I'm going with this but here's the premise.

Be warned that my stories contain mature subjects and are PG18+++. There is graphic violence, coarse language, sexual situations, and triggers as my characters deal with emotional, physical, or mental traumas. (I'll try to dim it to keep it M here on FanFiction, for 16 and older.)


Occupational Hazards

Chapter 01

The nauseating pain and discomfort that came with having your intestines push your liver and stomach against your diaphragm, forcing the air in your lungs to burst out, only to have those same organs drop a millisecond later, were not by her calculation and experience an exciting or fun pass time. Taking what steadying breath her lungs could conjure, she gripped the handle harder glaring unabashedly at her teammate who just punched the gas and turned the next hill into a jump-and-drop repeat.

"J. I get that we have full terrain Jeeps at our disposal. That they have the proper suspensions, off-road tires, frame reinforcement, body armor, and all the gadgets to handle this dirt road. If you can call it that. But what you fail to consider is that my insides do not have that same equipment, nor do my laptops. I suggest you ease off the gas before I or my equipment are incapacitated for the mission," her usual low monotone voice held an edge to it, betraying her frustration.

Of course, J's reply was preluded by a toothy grin. "Can't do that, love!"

Taking another chopped breath, she counted in her head to calm her mounting ire.

"J, I am not going to ask again."

"And I'll slow down when you agree to the pub. It's your birthday."

"Yes, it's MY birthday. Which means I get to pick. Hard pass on the pub."

"Merc. Seriously. I'm not asking for a club. Or a bar. It's just a little pub, in a small town that I've checked out. It's cute, log style and airy, modern. Their outside deck is literally on a spectacular lake! It's illuminated with fairy lights, but you can still see the moon and stars. From what I hear, they serve spectacular home-brewed beers! Best of all, there's barely anyone there during the week. AND, I'll be the designated driver, so you can let loose and have a couple of drinks," J pressed in her cheerful voice.

"You know how I get when I get drunk…"

"Who cares! So you'll blab facts that nobody can follow for the whole night. We're leaving tomorrow, no one's going to care or remember!"

"No."

"Fine. Then I'm revving this baby to the max before Mar has to torch it." The driver's jubilance momentarily dropped, an exasperated sigh escaped her clenched jaw. "Gonna suck watching this ride get torched. It's the sweetest thing I've driven so far!"

"You've driven a tank…"

"Yea… But this has more mobility! Hmmm… Could always add push bars! Or a cage. Or …"

Tuning out J's babble because communicating with Homosapiens often felt like interacting with nonsensical entities, Merc focused on her own reflection in the mirror. Her neon blue short hair revealed her shaved black sides with every bounce and contrasted even more than usual with her pale complexion. At least she could be grateful that her thick black mascara wasn't smeared from her bangs falling repeatedly into her indigo eyes. On the other hand, her right ear was firetruck red thanks to her multiple piercings hitting the window with the lurches.

Since J had the hardest head of them all, Merc knew she wasn't going to win their argument. The tomboy was trying to diversify her routine, loosen things up, and get her to have "fun".

All thanks to her team being worried over the fact she had planned the mission on her birthday…

Well, if it got them off her case, might as well cave in. She couldn't recall the last time she shut off her brain. It might actually take care of insomnia at least for one night. Although Merc was not looking forward to the hangover.

"Fine."

J turned her intense emerald stare to her for a millisecond before she eased off the gas.

"She finally agreed?" A melodic amused voice asked over their wireless earbuds.

"Yup," J grinned victoriously.

"About time! A minute more and you would've popped a tire," snapped another huskier voice.

"Down girl. Your trigger finger is needed elsewhere," J quipped, amused.

"We're five minutes out. Focus," the melodic voice ordered.

J got back to punching the gas, slightly less aggressively, as the two offroad Jeeps lurched and bounced over the muddy trail through the thick foliage of the early summer trees.

"Why pub?" Drumming her chewed nails on her folded laptops, Merc surveyed the landscape.

"Paintball, laser tag, axe throwing is Mar's thing. Cheese-gagging chick flicks and explicit erotica are definitely Cresc's cup of tea. Hiking, mountain climbing, and karaoke are V's main addictions."

"Bar fights, rock concerts, and driving are yours," Merc interjected. "Why not scuba diving, surfing, or even aquatic parasailing then?"

"We're by resorts' scenic lakes, not by sea or ocean. Sorry love." Turning swiftly, J glanced her way, her grin sliding. "Plus, the mission comes first. If it went south... Anyways, those activities need reservations. Names. Numbers. We don't go near that."

She nodded, her short-chopped hair falling into her eyes for the thousandth time in the past twenty minutes. Where it would drive her teammates ape-shit, as they called it, she ignored it. She would have ignored the rough ride too if she thought her equipment and organs could sustain the activity without damage. Thank God Merc hadn't eaten anything as her stomach had been intimately smacked against its adjoining organs. Although anatomically impossible, the visual was amusing. Just as amusing as the retribution the occupants in the following vehicle were plotting against J.

Seeing the planned clearing, Merc released her seatbelt. "Park there. Target's location is straight ahead."

"Bout time," nodded J, parking in the clearing by the dirt road.

As the camouflage-colored Jeep Wrangler parked ahead of the flat black one, Merc jumped out and hurriedly set up her gear on the trunk surface. Opening the programs on her laptops that hacked their target's security live feed, she watched out of the corner of her eye as her three associates got their gear on.

The chestnut with auburn highlights woman, referred to on missions as J, fixed her hair in a tight French braid. Her signature go-to for throwdowns; reminiscent of her years in the ring. Her fighter look emphasized by her sheer height, muscular figure, and perfected death glare. Donning a bulletproof vest, the brunette covered her brass knuckles with fingerless gloves before knotting her steel-toed combat boots.

"Tranqs. Taking them in alive," the long golden blond haired ordered in her usual melodic voice, forcing J to put back her favorite daggers and pull out two beretta's instead, strapping them to her thigh, Laura Craft style. J also copied the blond by adding a Sig at her back under the vest and concealing another at her right ankle.

"Regular tranqs?"

"Nah. Use the ones mixed with truth serum and ecstasy," the blond instructed, tying her Elsa-inspired braid around into a bun. Their second in command had a twisted sense of humor. Of course, it made sense for V to show up at an extraction/takedown mission looking like a Disney Princess. Thank God the bulletproof vest hid the line-up of her fav princesses on her ample t-shirt. Die-hard fan, check! Nothing revved V's engine like making her enemies underestimate her capabilities before completely decimating them.

"We're paid to make them talk. Get the list of accomplices and possible suppliers. Cresc doesn't want loose ends since we're handing them over to the feds," V added, checking the magazines of her 9mm before sliding it into her vest.

"This is not our usual M.O. Might go public. Are we ready for the fallback," the huskier voice came from the raven-haired woman as she slid her R93 onto her back, then checked the scope of her M24 sniper gun. A cap hung low covering her face, her long jet black hair tied with multiple elastics hung over her camouflage jersey and pants.

"Got the cover story ready," Merc replied, eyes flipping from one camera angle to another and back.

"Is Cresc in position? Do we have a go?" V peeked over her shoulder at the footage.

As if their missing leader heard them, she nodded slightly her head without looking at the camera. The punk-looking hacker looked up finally. "Affirmative."

Suddenly, Mar wiped up and aimed her M24 toward the road bend behind them, as V and J triangulated their Sigs at the noise of heavy sloshes and hard breathing just as a man in his late twenties jogged in their location. Covered in mud splashes to the waist, he froze in mid-stride, pulling his earbuds out, heavy rock music blaring as he raised a quizzical thick brow.

"Excuse me… Ladies? Do you have permits for those guns?"

Looking over her shoulder, Merc examined the man. He looked familiar… But where? He had milk chocolate brown wavy shoulder-length hair pulled back into a messy man bun, shaved on the back, with a strong jaw, slightly crooked long nose, and deep hazel eyes. His sweaty loose white sleeveless shirt clung to his pecs and multiple abs as his muscular arms crossed over his chest while he glared, seeming unphased by the multiple guns pointed in his direction. Recognition clicked at the sight of the local firemen's department logo on his muddied shorts. Of course, she had seen him when she'd screened the town. Her fingers moved swiftly over the right laptop's keyboard looking him up as V cursed.

"Seriously? Wasn't this an unused trail? A secure location?"

"Secure, my ass. Merc you should have chosen a better location," muttered Mar.

"Maxfield Stanton, age 29. Also known as Neph, short for Nephrite. Former three-time UFC champion; retired due to injury to shoulder. Local fireman now, runner up for chief of department. Co-owner and manager of local MMA gym. Parents divorced. Father, Michel Stanton, former multiple boxing champion. Mother, Milla Petrova, CEO of Petrova Cosmetics Inc. Step-mother, Mary Hansford, deceased. Step-brother, Andrew Hansford, airline pilot. Step-sister, Elizabeth Hansford, international model. Brother-in-law, Jay Rumblay, fireman, deceased in line of duty. Niece, Joy Rumblay. Close conn…"

"I didn't ask for my bio. I asked if you had permits for those weapons?"

"Yea, we do." J grinned, lowering her gun at the man's growly demand. "He clear?" At Merc's nod, J forced V's gun down before their second blew a hole in a civilian's head for fucking up their plans.

"We're a private security firm here to take down an underage porn ring. As there's a politician's daughter involved, I cannot disclose more information. If you need proof, I have the warrants for the arrest of all the people involved." The warrants appeared on Merc's computer screen, before switching back to the security live feed. "However, this needs to remain under wraps to prevent a possible hostage situation. So please remove your hand, slowly, from your pocket before my sniper clocks you."

The newcomer's scowl didn't waver, nor did his don't fuck with me stance relax.

"If there was such a ring, the local police, mayor, and my circle would have been made aware of it. Not to mention that the police would have been called in to create a perimeter."

The fact that the guy held his ground made J laugh. "Guy's got balls. Give'm that." But just as swiftly, she replaced her gun, before doing a peripheral check of their surroundings.

"They would have if this mission was not sensitive and they weren't completely ignorant idiots. As there are minors and a senator's daughter involved, this needs to stay out of the headlines. You will remain here until our leader confirms what to do with you. Or, you can leave and never mention this again. Either way, I can locate you and we'll deal with the fallback. Clear? As it is, we are three minutes past our window to keep this under wraps."

V didn't bother to wait for his reply. "J, M, double time." Her three companions jogged into the forest in a tight formation barely making any noise as they disappeared in the foliage.

Turning back to her screens, Merc adjusted the com in her ear as she felt the man approach slowly. "I suggest you stop inching your hand toward that cell in your left pocket. I can incapacitate you as easily as the rest of my team."

"What do you mean by do with me?" Neph asked as he closed the distance between them, pulling his phone out of his pocket only to pull out the earbuds and turn the music off. Which she caught in her periphery, just as she caught everything that was happening on both her screens.

"See if you need to sign a non-disclosure document. Now shut up and don't interrupt. Mar, perimeter check?"

Having climbed into a high maple tree near the front gate of their target, Mar looked through her scope at every angle of the modern colonial mansion on the huge fenced-in lot. No one would imagine that their rich neighbor was up to no good in this swanky weekend getaway destination.

"Contained, quiet," the muffled answer came.

"J, V, status?"

"On-site," both replied

Checking the left screen feed of security, she caught their leader lounging by the window. Cracking her neck, Merc started hacking the security system as Neph looked over her shoulder, with his arms folded and scowl back on.

"Mar, signal floor level, second east window."

Using her snipper lens to beam light at the ash blond, Merc waited for Cresc's reply. Their leader stretched her arms over her head and yawned. Some of her fingers elongated and twitched with the move.

"We have a go. Two in back. Five in front. Four upstairs. Count down now. Five, four, three, two, one."

Merc and their uninvited witness watched on her double screens as V and J infiltrated the house as she unlocked the back door. Wasting no time, the two women knocked out the men lounging and drinking in the kitchen. One of the underaged victims squealed, startled by the skirmish, alerting the inhabitants of their presence. Thinking the cops had arrived, the perpetrators tried to flee the house through multiple exits.

That's when the shots started. There was no silencer on Mar's sniper gun. Nope. She preferred to make things loud once the situation escalated. Intensifying the fear and desperation of the perpetrators, causing them to make stupid miscalculations or fatal mistakes.

As Mar tranquilized all the escapees, J infiltrated each room, knocking out or shooting whoever hid or tried to escape while V covered the back and contained the victims. When her team was almost done their sweep, Merc concentrated all the security feed onto the left computer, while she took over the mansion's network on the right, hacking their porn webpage, loading the spoof site in its place, and unleashing a virus on anyone who accessed it.

Warnings appeared on the left screen as she was finishing up.

"J, V. Transport underway. ETA seven minutes. Police have been notified due to shots fired. ETA ten minutes. Engage clean up."

"Affirmative," several voices answered.

"Fuck, J. Did you really have to knock all of them out? Now we have five bodies to haul from inside." V continued cursing and complaining while holding a stuttering man in a hand lock and pulling two others by a chain cuffed at contortionist angles across the house to the front.

"Sorry, got carried away with the adrenaline. What did you expect? They're all breathing, no," answered J as she threw a body over her shoulder. She dumped the man in the driveway before heading back to collect the others.

"Yea, but they're fucking heavy to carry and haul during clean-up."

"Paaalease!" Drawled J, dumping the second body, "at least I was quiet about it, unlike Mar."

"Yea, I heard her wasting ammo. You made them dance, didn't you Spitfire?"

"I got bored. You didn't send many my way. And what fun is it to tranquilize these asshats? I couldn't even shoot their dicks. Not even their knees or feet! Nope. Just had to put them in dreamland. And why are you reprimanding me? Merc electroshocked the ring leader when he tried to jump the fence when I wanted to make him sweat and run."

Merc shrugged indifferently, avoiding the stranger's quizzical gaze. "What? You didn't have to go through all the video material or watch over those sick bastards. Since when do you guys get to have fun hurting them and I'm supposed to play nice? Yea, fuck that."

"I see you guys had fun." A calm but commanding voice called behind V and J.

The Second in command turned to hand a com to their leader who was sporting provocative juvenile clothes before jogging back in. J barked a laugh at their commander whose ash blond hair was tied in bun pigtails, her beautiful features hidden under heavy make-up and deep cherry lipstick. She looked almost as young as when they met instead of her twenty-eight years.

J's eyes latched on the stab wound on Moon's side. "Are you fucking serious?"

"It's just a scratch wound. Don't pull a hissy fit. I'll be fine."

"Nope, that ain't nothing! Your side is soaked."

"It's not all mine. Took a little more effort to take down the security guy. The ring leader was only the funds and voyeur in the mix. But got the distributor's info."

"That all?" J asked, ripping her sleeve and pressing it under her leader's midriff shirt over the stab.

"Yup and then some. Clean house? Merc, online footprint clean?"

"Affirmative." Several voices replied. Only Merc continued. "We have a witness."

"Complications?"

"Doubtful," she replied while giving the stranger an appraisal. "But I'm mistrustful. He took this situation way too calmly."

"I saw the warrants and what was going on in the house, you're not going to get any trouble from me. And after being in rings and burning houses, I'm kind of unphased by weird or dangerous situations. However, your friend looks like she needs medical attention. I can have a doctor check her out right away," he offered as explanation.

"Not necessary, I'll treat her myself," Merc's replied monotonously as she pulled her medical equipment out of the back of the Jeep.

"Merc. It's your Bday. As of right now, you're officially off duty and as soon as I get stitched up, I'll join you at the next town's pub. Just let me deal with the senator before we head back."

Knowing there was no arguing with a direct order, the punk-styled girl swallowed her frustration, keeping her expression blank.

Just as she started to pack the medical equipment back, three federal black-tinted SUVs followed by an armored truck parked in the driveway. Two muscular military men jumped out of the truck and started hauling the unconscious or chained men into the back. Cresc walked confidently to the middle vehicle which lowered the window a fraction. She slid a USB through the gap and started to turn before rethinking and folding her arms.

"My second is bringing her out. She had a nice little chat with your kid. You know, instilled the fear of God in her by sharing some anecdotes of our missions." As if on cue, a shoulder-length redhead stumbled out of the house, holding both her mouth and belly, looking sick to her stomach followed by V.

The girl dashed toward the SUVs as if the hounds of hell were after her as soon as she caught sight of them. Before she could open the door, Cresc grabbed her arm forcing her to stay still.

"You know she wouldn't have done stupid shit like this if you hadn't ignored her and then pressured her. She doesn't have the backbone to run for politics, with all due respect, mam. However, she has a good and smart head on her shoulders. Send her into business and you won't have to worry about her and how she'll affect your image. And provide adequate support to the three girls left inside. My comrade is going to make sure you follow my instructions, as we want to make sure the girls we rescued get the help and support to get them past this mess. Are we understood, Senator?"

"And if I do not agree to your terms?" a cold frustrated feminine voice answered.

"You know whom you hired."

"Why business?" curiosity won over indignation.

"Because from my observation, she has a natural knack for it and the eye for good jewelry. Molly took less than four seconds to realize my supposed knockoff diamond earrings were real and the necklace was a tracking device. Good day to you, mam."

The long-legged leader left as a federal-looking woman exited the last truck to head into the mansion as sirens filled the air. Wasting no time, Mar got down from the old tree she had been perched on to join the team as they headed back into the property's forest and through the hole in the fence.

"Should she be walking so much with a stab wound? Couldn't you pick her up?" Neph questioned as Merc closed her laptops and packed the Jeeps.

"She has had worst. They're making sure they are not followed."

"Okay… The pub you were talking about, was it the Twin Lakes pub by any chance?"

"Yup," came J's reply as she stepped out of the dense foliage first. "Why?"

"I'll get the doctor to come there. I know the owner. If we go through the back, you'll have privacy. You don't want anyone to know, right? Beats going to the hospital."

Cresc appraised the guy. Taking an envelope from her bag on the dash, she handed it over to him. "Read, sign and we'll be fine. Talk about today and you'll have to deal with that crazy politician. I wouldn't suggest it."

Taking the documents, Nephrite started to read them as Cresc unzipped a large bag left by the side of the car. Pulling out a black camisole and three-quarter jeans, she then proceeded to take off her super short ripped-off jeans. J stopped her before she could put on the new shirt to clean the blood and bandage her wound. Once the man handed the documents back to her, the ash blond sat on the front passenger seat of the second Jeep, only flinching slightly before using make-up removal tissues to clean all the makeup off her face and take down her hair which fell slightly past her ass.

Her team hurriedly changed as well into civilian clothes, not caring that a guy was trying hard but failing to watch them in various forms of undress.

"Cat got your tongue?" J quipped before pushing him toward the black Jeep. "Stop gawking and get in. Bet you know the fastest way to the pub?"

"And make your call," added Merc, sliding in behind him.

"Just like that? We're cool?"

"You're wasting time."

He took out his cell, dialed, and barked a demand without wasting time with small talk.

"Darien, I'm bringing a stab wound to the pub."

"Would be better at the hospital."

"Can't. Explain later. Emergency. Patient stabbed in lower left side, over hip about ten minutes ago, bleeding slowed, but not stopped. Doesn't appear fatal or deep as she walked after. Female, late twenties."

"Blood transfer."

"Negative," answered Cresc, closing her eyes and resting her head back. "Didn't lose that much."

"I'll be there in fifteen minutes max." The line went dead.

"I can have you stitched up by then," countered Merc, frustrated with her leader's silly beliefs about birthdays.

"Yes, I know. But I want your hands blood-free when you pick up your drinks tonight. I'm fine, sis."

"So, what does J stand for?" the guy asked as he buckled in the front seat while J got the vehicle moving at a slower, steadier pace that didn't jolt the cars too much.

"Guess! Direction?"

"Continue until you see a small road on the right. Leads to the main road. Your Jeeps can handle it and it's the shortest way, unless you want to turn back?" Thinking over their names, Nephrite tried to think of what their initials stood for. "Private security… Right. Is Merc short for mercenary? And Mar for ammunition?"

"Good try but not even close! J is short for Jupiter."

"Are you guys serious…" the guy looked completely dumbfounded, his whole on-guard demeanor dropped as he shook his head, and choked an incredulous laugh. "Why planets?"

"Mercury's brain is basically on speed like the planet, and she doesn't flip even in the most extreme situations. A scowl is the most you'll get out of her. V. Well that's simple! Her looks say it all. Mars has the God of War temper, and the storms of Jupiter have nothing on the shit I bring."

"And Cresc…"

"The ever-changing, shifting, watching Moon." As the break appeared in the trees, J's brow rose. "The fuck!? This is an ATV path."

"It's a pretty flat trail. Your paint might get scratched but you wanted the fastest way."

"Fuck if I ever ask a man for directions again," cursed J.

"We're torching these anyways," recapped Merc.

"Still not sold on that plan…"

"Cresc passed out! Gun it J," V ordered from the camouflage Jeep over the coms.

Merc's frustration escalated, knowing Cresc would have her ass if she treated her and got her hands bloodied. Who cared about a birthday anyways!? It didn't matter because there wasn't much worth celebrating. It was just another year. Twenty-six was just another number. And today had been just another mission.

Well, not precisely. It was her baby. After crossing the child pornography site on the black web, she formed a plan and talked her team into it. Maybe that's why she felt on edge. Maybe overseeing was what had been nagging at her emotions. Eating away at her indifference and remoteness.

While that emotional detachment had allowed her to learn hacking and programming in middle school. Tackle military tactics by senior. Not that she had been at school by that point. Master first response and field medicine by twenty after too many close calls. Learn seven languages and read more encyclopedias and facts than normal human memory could process while managing their group's finances, administration, and intelligence. It seemed, that distance wavered when left to oversee the security of her team and the outcome of a mission.

With her extensive knowledge and solution-driven mind, she had been often compared to Tony Starks, except without the whole narcissistic or egoistic complex. No. She had the wallflower complex mixed with anti-social tendencies. A real cocktail when mixed with dark and disturbing childhood life experiences that left no room for trust.

How was it that the idea of approaching the big three-oh could potentially destabilize her? It couldn't be a middle-age crisis; she wasn't even out of her prime. The relatively new restlessness was not welcome.

Maybe it was the toll of the work they did. Maybe it was the childhood trauma that she hadn't processed, just buried under the surface. Maybe it was just that the missions were bleeding one into another at this point. Maybe she should do what her companions were constantly pushing for. Take a break. Find another passion. One that didn't include a screen or book. Celebrate her birthday.

But how can one celebrate a birthday, when said birthday was a trigger for her and her best friend's life going to shit? And that was putting it lightly.

Cresc better be fine or she didn't know how she would deal…