The Mercenary

"Rachael, what do you think?" Yasmine asked.

"What do I think about what?" Anna glanced up, not realizing that she had tuned out the conversation a few minutes ago. "What are you asking about?"

"This season of Thundercunts," Yasmine replied. "We're taking bets on who wins the finale."

Thundercunts was a popular reality competition show in Arcadia. It followed a group of contestants who were forced to live together in a large mansion while completing a series of challenges. The contestants were selected from opposing ends of the social spectrum. Half were from lower-class sub-city dwellers, and the other half from the upper-class surface dwellers.

Anna shook her head. "I don't even watch that show," she said. "Don't care about that kind of crap."

She and the other interns were sitting in the break room, having their lunch. It was a Friday, and the office was buzzing in anticipation of the weekend.

"You don't watch Thundercunts?" Yasmine gasped. "That's like saying you've never seen War Stars or Game of Crowns."

Anna didn't reply and only shrugged her shoulders.

"Are you serious?" Yasmine looked shocked. "What do you even do for fun?"

"I like to shoot things, I guess," Anna replied with the first thing that came to her mind. "I'm pretty good at that."

"You mean that piece you carry around isn't just for show? You actually know how to use it?"

"Yeah, of course I do. Why wouldn't I?"

Yasmine truly had no idea the extent to which Anna was handy with firearms, or more ballistic pastimes in general.

"Other than that, not much," Anna continued. "I usually just hang out with my girlfriend."

Yasmine regarded Anna with a curious look on her face. "No real hobbies?"

At that, Anna had to stop and consider things for a moment. She knew that Yasmine was just trying to engage her with some friendly small talk, as she had been trying to do ever since they first started working at ACN together. However, Anna had trouble connecting with her coworkers on a level more than professional detachment. Simply put, there was just very little in common she shared with them, with how troublingly colored her life had been.

Her experiences were vastly different in comparison to much of the people who lived sheltered and safe lives in Arcadia.

Additionally, while she had plenty of things to keep her busy back on Earth, namely surviving until the next day, she didn't really have any idle pursuits to speak of. Anna never had much time for hobbies and interests before, and she hadn't enough time to develop any so far, so she was something of a blank slate. The things she used to enjoy, like visiting the Memory Palace to relive her painful past or trying to find answers at the bottom of a bottle of whiskey, she no longer did.

"Guess I'm just too busy with work and everything," Anna said, looking away from Yasmine as she wished for a speedy end to the conversation.

"But you do things with your girlfriend, don't you?" Yasmine kept pressing. "What do you guys do when you're hanging out?"

"I don't know, go on walks in the park, try new restaurants, sometimes we cook together," Anna said quickly, now getting a little irritated. "We go on dates and do normal things. Normal people stuff, shit like that."

Yasmine pressed no further and dropped the issue. Happy with the silence, Anna returned to her lunch.

However, Yasmine perked up again when another topic crossed her mind. "Okay, what about your arm?" she asked. "Gotta be an interesting story there."

"What, this little thing?" Anna raised her cybernetic arm. "Tripped and fell. Accidently jammed my whole arm into a blender."

Yasmine looked at Anna for a second and then she scoffed. "Come on, I'm really trying here," she chuckled dismissively. "You can at least make up something a little more believable."

"Fine. A mutated wolf used my arm as a chew toy and the whole thing had to be amputated. Really intense stuff. Happy now?"

"I said a little more believable and you went in the complete opposite direction."

Anna said nothing and only stared blankly at Yasmine. Mercifully, the conversation was ended when the doors to the break room opened up and somebody walked in.

"Raquel? Raquel!" Shang looked around until he found Anna. "There you are. Why the hell aren't you answering your pages? I must have pinged you twenty times already."

"It's Rachael, and because I'm on my break," Anna replied, scowling a little bit as her mood soured further.

"Not anymore," Shang put down a datapad on the table and gestured to it. "This expense report I asked you to draft for me is all wrong. There's no way I spent this much."

"It should be accurate, I double checked," Anna replied. "Besides, this is a job for accounting."

"You can do basic addition and subtraction, can't you?" Shang asked. "Just subtract my expenses and add them to the company expenses. Not hard. And I can't go to accounting because Courtney is still mad at me. She won't talk to me at all. It's not like I really cheated on her. I was paying back a favor to Rebecca."

"Rebecca in admin?" Yasmine asked.

Shang shook his head. "No, not that fat bitch," he said. "Rebecca in HR."

"What do you want me to do with this?" Anna asked, pushing past his lewd remarks and getting really annoyed. "I collected all your receipts. These numbers are right."

"Uh, what I told you to do, gonk-for-brains," Shang crossed his arms and leaned forward. "Fudge the numbers. Put it on the company balance. Whatever. I'm not paying back however much it says I owe here. Write it off as a business expense."

"You mean the shit like the porn subscriptions," Anna glared back at him.

"The porn, the fizz, that dinner at Hattori's, those hookers I hired," Shang counted off his fingers as he listed his business expenditures. "All of it. Off my accounts. Do it."

Anna sighed and tensed her jaw, picking up the datapad. In a huff, she ended her break early and made a swift exit. As she left, she could hear Shang turning his attention to Yasmine.

"You, Jasmine, sugartits," Shang started. "I need you to pick up some lunch for me. Head down to Twisty Dicks, get me my usual order. Daddy's hungry, so get going."

"Unbelievable," Anna grumbled and rubbed her temples, feeling a headache coming on.

"Oh, wait a minute," Shang caught up to Anna. "One more thing. I want that expense report done by today. Since you don't have any plans, you won't mind staying late. You don't leave the building until it's done, clear?"

Anna opened her mouth to protest, but Shang cut her off.

"Don't want to hear it," Shang gave Anna a slap on her rear and walked away, chuckling to himself. "And don't fuck it up again, or you can kiss your ginger ass goodbye."

Anna shut her eyes, balled her hands into fists, and took a deep breath. Her headache had worsened, but more than that, she had actually made plans with Elsa that she now had to cancel. Storming back to her tiny office, Anna sat down at her desk and leaned over it, banging her head repeatedly. When she was done, she cursed her boss a few times under her breath, and then brought up her omni-pad to call Elsa.

After a few seconds, Elsa picked up at the other end and appeared in the holo-display. "Hi, you," she smiled, but it quickly faded when she noticed Anna's sour expression. "What's wrong?"

"I need to cancel tonight, babe," Anna sighed. "My boss is making me stay late to work on some bullshit expense report. I have to start all over."

"Again? This is the third time he's made you stay late this week."

"Yeah, yeah, I know. I'm really sorry."

"No, don't apologize to me," Elsa shook her head sympathetically. "I know things can be chaotic for you over there."

Anna smiled, feeling her mood lift a little. "I'll just pick up some dinner on the way home and then we can cuddle up with a movie or something," she said. "How's that sound?"

"Sounds perfect," Elsa smiled

"Anyway, I just wanted to let you know so you don't wait up for me," Anna said. "I gotta get started on this thing if I want to get out of here."

"Okay, I'll see you at home then," Elsa blew Anna a kiss. "I love you."

"I love you too," Anna smiled and then ended the call.

… … …

The next week was more of the same story. Yasmine and the other coworkers tried to engage Anna in small talk, but didn't get much out of her. It had reached the point where none of the other interns cared to try anymore and were happy to leave Anna to her business. On the other hand, Yasmine was still persistent mainly because she and Anna sat closest together in the office.

If she wasn't enduring idle conversation about topics she didn't really care about, Anna was enduring her terrible boss who routinely had her putting up with menial, degrading work. It wasn't enough to the point that it was essentially slave labor, but it also wasn't enough to the point that it was rewarding or meaningful in any way. Anna considered searching for other jobs, but nothing seemed to scratch the itch that she didn't know how to reach.

In short, Anna's life had transformed into the everyday, humdrum, ordinary existence that was expected from a working-class civilian toiling under the system. A far cry from the life she was used to back in New York. The banality of routine and the constancy of having to put up appearances was grating on her mind, and she came to hate every second of it.

She was stuck. Stuck in the boredom. Stuck in the frustration. Stuck in same endless cycle, looping on itself, repeating over and over again.

Still, this was the life Anna once wanted, so she felt even more discomfort at her inability to embrace it. For reasons that she wasn't sure of yet, she desired something more along the lines of what she used to do.

So, after a particularly vexing day of work, Anna needed to blow of some steam. She didn't want to head back to the arcade and play the combat simulator again since she didn't have anything to prove there. Instead, she wandered into a local gun range to ply her trade.

… … …

"Hey there," the owner greeted Anna with a curt nod as she walked in. "Something I can help you with?"

"Yeah," Anna went up to the counter. "Looking to put in some range time. My first time here, so how's it work exactly? I have my own gun."

"Sure thing," the owner nodded. "I'll just need to take down your information, check your background info, your licenses, inspect your firearm, and then set you up inside."

"Alright," Anna brought up her omni-pad and transferred the relevant documents. "Here's my iron," she reached for her hand cannon and placed it down on the counter.

The owner whistled in appreciation as he appraised Anna's firearm of choice. He picked it up in his hands, inspecting the clean and well-maintained frame, and nodded in approval at the additional attachments.

"Beautiful piece," the owner said. "In good condition too. You must know your way around guns. You military? Active service members and veterans get a discount."

"No."

"Police?"

"Definitely not."

"Mercenary then."

Anna made no further comment and waited patiently while her credentials were verified.

"Okay, almost done here," the owner typed in some information at his terminal. "You'll be needing ammo today?"

"Yeah, just one box of the fifty action express," Anna pointed to the relevant item inside the counter display case. "That ought to do it."

"Need me to fill up speed loaders for you too?" the owner set down a box of bullets for Anna.

"No, I can do it myself."

"Then you're all set," the owner pointed towards the entrance to the gun range. "Talk to the range officer, Meridia, she'll treat you right."

"Thanks," Anna picked up her gun and the bullets, then made her way over.

Near the entrance to the range was a rack with ear protectors and safety glasses. Anna put them on, then entered the range.

Immediately, she was greeted by the acrid scent of gunpowder and the sound of clinking shell casings on the floor. All at once, Anna felt at ease and in her element. Sporadic gunshots echoed out as other shooter were already at the firing positions inside the range, some amateur and some professional. Anna paid them no mind as she walked further inside.

As she walked, a woman with bright blue eyes and dazzlingly scarlet hair caught sight of Anna and approached her. She wore black jeans and a turquoise shirt with the sleeves rolled to the elbows. Strapped to her belt was a gun holster which held a classic six-shooter revolver.

"Alright there, how are ye?" the red-haired woman spoke with a Scottish accent. "Got word from Fergus that ye'd be headed my way. The name's Meridia, I'm sort of the main gaffer 'round here," she extended her hand and smiled. "Who might ye be?"

"Rachael," Anna returned a polite smile and accepted the gesture with her metal hand since her other one was holding the bullets.

"Ooh, cold grip ya got there," Meridia chuckled. "Enough bletherin' about though. Ye came here to shoot targets, not the breeze. Follow me."

She turned around and started walking towards an empty firing position. Anna followed along, not flinching at all when she passed within proximity of the other shooters who fired their weapons.

"Okeydoke, then," Meridia paused by a firing position and turned towards Anna. "Now, ye dinnae look like an amateur to me, so I suppose ye won't be needin' the safety talk?"

"No, I know all the basics," Anna said. "Finger off the trigger until ready to shoot, muzzle pointed downrange at all times, always treat the gun like it's loaded even if it's unloaded."

"Aye, that's the stuff," Meridia nodded, and hit a button to activate the firing position. "She's all yours then. Range is hot. Ye be needin' anythin' else, ye come and let me know. I'll be around, checkin' on the other shooters. Just give a shout," she did a final check on everything to be sure, then went away.

Anna set down the box of bullets and drew her hand cannon, inspecting it in the light. As she ran her fingers over the cold metal gun frame, she felt familiarity and comfort. Everything about her surroundings put her mind at ease. The smell of the gun smoke rising from the barrel, the explosive report of firing pins striking the primers on casings, the ballistic residue hanging in the air.

With her gun in her hand, Anna felt safety and security in the knowledge that she was in control. That if she was ever in danger, she had the means to protect herself and to protect the people she loved. Her hand cannon was a weapon, a tool, a memento, and a symbol all at once. It destroyed her enemies, it defended her livelihood, it reminded her of who she was, and it exemplified what she fought for.

Anna opened the cylinder and spun it slowly, satisfied at the steady clicking of the spokes within the internal firing mechanism. She slid in six fresh rounds then snapped the cylinder shut with an easy flick of her wrist. Then, she raised it to her eye level and took aim.

Six rounds were cracked off in short order and six rounds found their way home in the chest of a holographic target. Red marks appeared over it, indicating lethal shot placement in vital organs.

"Not bad," Anna smirked at her handiwork. "I still got it."

She reloaded, then repeated the process. Again, striking the center mass of the target dead on.

"Hmph," Anna hit a button and moved the target further away. "Let's make it a little harder."

This time, her shots were a bit more inaccurately placed given the distance. Anna wasn't a crack shot by any means, but she had enough practice in real world situations that she understood the physics and the mathematics behind shooting. Ample experience and a steady hand guided her bullets home to their targets more often than not, and that was good enough for her.

Over the next little while, Anna carried out her shooting drills, emptying her hand cannon each time before reloading it. To vent her frustration, she imagined the target she was shooting at was actually her boss, Shang, and the experience proved to be cathartic for her.

Deciding to switch it up a little, Anna hit a button and made three targets appear at varying distances. She prepared herself, and with a switch, she made the targets rapidly close in on her position to simulate a real scenario she might find herself in. In a flash, Anna's killer instincts took over and she easily double tapped each of the targets, hitting them in the chest and the head.

Meridia whistled behind Anna. "Now that's some shooting," she said, clearly impressed. "Almost as good as me. Yer grouping could use a wee bit of tightening up."

"That sounds like a challenge," Anna turned around.

"Nay, it'd be no challenge for me," Meridia scoffed and made a dismissive gesture. "No contest at all, aye."

"Then you won't mind entertaining me."

"Ach, no mind at all," Meridia stepped up to the position next to Anna and set up their range targets. "Better load up then. Let's see what yer made of."

They each loaded their respective weapons and when they were ready, Meridia cued up the targeting system.

"Six bullets each, six targets," Meridia hovered her right hand over her revolver, flexing her fingers in anticipation. "Hit 'em as fast as ye can, no misses. Try to keep up."

Anna snorted.

"Are ye ready?"

"Ready."

"Do ye need a count?"

"No."

A buzzer sounded off and in front of them, six targets appeared in each of their lanes, moving quickly in erratic patterns. Just as soon as they all appeared, Meridia drew her revolver and fired from the hip, fanning the hammer with each shot. All six of her targets were hit dead on in the center.

Anna was slower on the draw, taking only a second longer than Meridia to dispatch of her targets. By the time she was done, Meridia was already looking at Anna.

"Dinnae say I never warned ya," Meridia dexterously twirled her revolver around her finger before slotting it back into her holster.

"Goddamn," Anna muttered. "Nice shooting, Tex."

"I'm actually from Glasgow."

Anna chuckled and unloaded her hand cannon, ejecting the spent rounds. "Long way from home then, aren't you?"

"What gave it away? Was it my accent?" Meridia laughed. "Reckon yer not from around these parts here either. Thought ye'd have been Scot as well, based on yer hair, until I heard yer yankee accent. Where ye hail from?"

"California," Anna partially lied. "Stateside. What's left of it."

They both shared a chuckle as they cleared their firearms and put them away. As Anna packed up her things, Meridia fixed her with a shrewd look.

"Ye know, yer better than most shooters that come in here," Meridia said. "Have ye ever considered mercenary work? Could suit ye."

At that, Anna stopped what she was doing and stared off into space. "No, not really," she said. "I'm not looking for that type of thing."

"Ach, that's a load of gobshite," Meridia snorted. "I can see fire in yer eyes, lass. Dinnae let it go to waste. Ye and I both know that what ye really need isn't here, shootin' at holographic men. What ye need to do is keep that fire burnin' or ye will wind up gettin' slow and sloppy," she walked past Anna to return to her duties. "But feel free to come back here anytime and I'll whip your arse again and again if ye want."

Anna frowned in thought as she considered Meridia's words. She may have had a point, for getting slow and sloppy meant losing to an opponent with a quicker draw. Anna's idle time in Arcadia was the longest, unbroken period of lasting peace she had ever known in her entire life. The last thing she wanted was for peace to dull her senses or cost her strength and vigilance. Anna couldn't drop her guard because if she did, she already knew well of the consequences that followed.

Now that she had a lot to think about, Anna left the gun range.

… … …

A few hours later, close to sundown, Anna was sitting alone on a bench in Elysium Park. Her mind was clouded with uncertainty and she needed time to clear it. She had spent the last little while wandering the grounds aimlessly, mulling over her life, trying to find answers she didn't know about to a question she couldn't grasp.

Her meditation was broken when a notification appeared on her omni-pad of a message from Elsa.

Ice Queen of My Heart: Where are you? Are you still at work?

Anna frowned and hesitated to respond straight away. Usually, she'd have been home by now, which was why Elsa was checking in on her. Not wanting her to worry, but not wanting to divulge the nature of her predicament, she replied.

Me: Just out getting some groceries before I head home. Don't worry, I'll be back soon.

It was a lie. More than that, Anna didn't know why she lied then and there. It was innocent enough since she wasn't actually doing anything that warranted greater scrutiny, but just the same, she didn't feel like she could freely discuss everything that had been on her mind as of late.

And what had been on her mind of late was the simple fact that even now, after spending nearly an entire year in Arcadia, Anna still felt out of place in this new world.

What am I doing? Anna asked herself as she observed the light of the setting sun, casting longer shadows over the park. I should be home with Elsa. What am I doing here?

She started bouncing one of her feet up and down restlessly. When that aggravated her, she stood up and started pacing. Her old anxious habit that she hadn't done in quite some time.

I have a normal job now and I have a normal life. Everything should be perfect, so why doesn't it feel perfect? Why do I still feel like a stranger here? Who am I supposed to be?

Technically, Anna was two people in Arcadia. To the law, she was Rachael Deckard, American expatriate who recently moved from New York. To Elsa and herself, Anna was still Anna. The orphaned street kid who watched as her sister was murdered before her very eyes at far too young an age. The heartbroken survivor who persisted through a life she once thought was not worth living. The hardened private detective who did whatever she had to just to get by.

Anna was all those people, and yet, she couldn't really fit any of those definitions any more. Not in Arcadia, a different world than the one she grew up in. Tried as she might to fit in, breaking her mold was no small task, and one that she still had no idea how to do. Despite Elsa's assurances that they could move on, on a deeper level, a part of Anna was beginning to doubt if she could really ever change.

She had simply seen too much, done too much, and been through too much to ever go back to the person who once innocently hoped and naively dreamt.

Who am I kidding? I could never be normal, just look at me! Why am I still pretending to be someone I'm not? I can't run from who I really am.

Anna fought and carved her own way through her life, mostly by her own merit in the ruins of a morally compromised world. She didn't pretend to be anyone else back then. She didn't pretend that good still existed, that people were still pure, and that there were brighter days ahead. When she did believe in all that, it cost her everything.

You don't get to live a bad life and have good things happen to you. You don't get to do bad things and still call yourself a good person. I'm not good and I never was.

Beneath the layers of trauma, beneath the layers of suffering, and beneath the layers of tragedy that made her who she was, Anna was still just a little girl who was terrified of being alone again. Her loneliness was once her whole meaning, and it was the inner disharmony between different ideas of who she was supposed to be that motivated her now.

I'm a killer. That's who I am. I can't change that, because if I try to change that, it means having to face all the evil shit I've ever done. I've gotta blame somebody else for that. Otherwise, it was all my fault. Fuck that.

In her own story, Anna may have been the hero. To others, she may have been the villain. As it stood, she simply had far too much to atone for and perhaps not enough time to do so. She was never religious or believed in anything other than her own ability to survive, so she needed no validation from a higher power. If the task was doomed to fail from the beginning, Anna saw little point in trying at all.

Anna started pacing more and more quickly, getting caught up in her head, feeling amped up for no reason. She had lots of energy that had been reawakened by her recent venture at the gun range as well as the outing to the combat simulator at the arcade with Elsa. In either case, it took no time at all for Anna to fall back into her old form.

And her old form, even though it came with depressive episodes of anxiety-ridden, self-destructive tendencies that bordered on suicidal aggression at times, was familiar to her. Anna no longer drank, which was a big step up, but now, she was manifesting those old habits and behaviors into different pursuits.

Finally decided on what to fill her idle time with, Anna pulled up Mulan's contact on a whim and dialed it. A minute later, the fixer picked up.

"Been a while, Rachael," Mulan said. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Anna stopped pacing and she felt calm with a sense of newfound purpose. "That job offer you made? A while back?" she asked, skipping right to the point. "Is it still on the table?"

"Ah, you mean the mercenary gig. Yeah, it's still on the table. What do you want to know about it?"

"Well, the pay, first of all. Job description, what I'd be doing. That type of stuff."

"Hmm," Mulan smirked. "The credits pay better the more dangerous the gig is, and there's a lot of credits to be made. You'd be a gun-for-fire, a bodyguard, an enforcer, and muscle wherever muscle is needed. You deal directly with me, never the contact. I'm the go-between. Pretty simple stuff all around and you get out what you put in. Work for me for a while, I'll hook you up with juicier gigs. Keep doing that, you'll build reputation and street cred. And then, who knows? You may even hit the big times. Earn contracts with the corps. Chill at the top as a legend of this city."

Anna nodded as she took all that information in. "Sounds pretty solid," she said. "Gotta admit."

It really wasn't that much different from her career as a private detective, and that, she knew she was good at.

"The mercenary life can be a good one, but you need to be aware of the risks involved too," Mulan continued. "Namely, getting into gunfights, street brawls, tangling with the gangs. You may make some powerful enemies. Success depends on what you're willing to do and what you're willing to lose."

"I think I could live with all that," Anna said. "No need to do anything crazy. I can just keep it lowkey. That way, nobody has to know about what I'm doing and no other feathers get ruffled. What they don't know can't hurt them, right?"

"You're referring to your partner, Joy?"

"I would prefer it if this little biz stayed between you and me. We don't have to get her involved."

"Say no more," Mulan said. "Discretion is my utmost priority."

"Alright," Anna hardened her expression. "I'm in."