A/N:
AU prompt challenge from Tumblr - The Transporter. Requested by Focusas.
- Mercenaries -
Neon filtered through the blinds in his window and the heavy, rhythmic beat of the nearby nightclub pulsed through the walls and resonated through his body, chasing away the silence of his room. Partygoers cheered over the beat, celebrating the coming of night, freed from the day's grind.
To Sokka, it was just another night for him. Work didn't end with the setting sun and his clients always preferred the safety of the dark to conduct their business.
His phone vibrated on the nearby nightstand. He smirked in the mirror as he straightened his black tie and matted out the creases in his blue dress shirt.
First job of the night. Not a moment too soon.
Satisfied with his tie, he made his way over to the nightstand. Picking up the phone he checked the caller identification on the small, glowing screen. Anonymous, as always. The only kind of calls he ever received.
Swiping the lock on the screen with the flick of his thumb, Sokka pressed down on the green button and held the phone up to his ear.
"Hello?"
"I need a driver."
The voice. Cool, confident, feminine, all business, and all too familiar. His smirked widened. Her again.
"Tonight?"
"Yes."
Her tone was insistent. She had a certain knack for doing this kind of thing, cutting to business, never one for chitchat. Then again he took a measure of pride in taking on these spontaneous jobs from her. Not like he had anything lined up at the moment.
Sokka slowly strolled passed his bed, eyeing the neatly pressed black coat lying on the comforter. His pistol lay in its holster next to it, cleaned and loaded.
"Give me the details then."
"Only what you need to know."
He rolled his eyes, keeping his voice cordial, "Of course. What do you want me to do?"
There was a short pause on the other end and a sigh filtered through the speaker. Sokka rested his hand on his hip, gently tapping his finger.
"A simple job. Quick transport to a location on the other side of the city."
Sokka nodded his head, "What, or who, am I transporting?"
"I want you to get me to the abandoned industrial district. Once we arrive at the location, you are to wait until I return."
"Pick up point and destination?"
"North eighty-eight and Idlewild, south sixty-third and Kent, respectively."
His gaze slowly trailed up to the worn ceiling, planning out the route, anticipating the stops and turns.
He nodded his head, "Payment?"
"Your usual rate. In cash, half when you get me to the location, half after you get me out."
He grinned. A fairly simple job. One place to another and back. Knowing her a call like this usually meant she was employed and on the move, though he could only guess at who required her services.
Made no difference to him. Her business was her own. All she needed was a getaway driver.
Her voice filtered through the speaker, "Do you accept the job?"
Sokka lightly chuckled, "You got yourself a driver."
]|||[
Orange streetlights passed in the front window, illuminating a path along an empty road lined by decrepit apartments and dark windows. The lights were green at most intersections and he made turns when they were red, following the route he had made.
A low heat filtered through the interior fans and a hard beat played through the speakers, bass thumping in his ears and through the car. Briefly taking his hand away from the gear stick, Sokka reached for a glowing blue dial and turned the music up. His head rocked to the rhythm.
He glanced quickly at his passenger, anticipating a harsh remark. All he noticed was a gloved leather finger tapping to the rhythm. Her arms were crossed in front of her chest, eyes closed and head bowed, as if deep in meditation.
"Do you want me to turn it down?" he asked her.
"No. Leave it."
Sokka shrugged, turning his head to the road, dim streetlights and flashing neon signs glaring in his eyes.
A thought occurred to him, "Heat all right?"
"Yes. Its fine."
Gently putting his foot to the brake, the car slowed as it came to an intersection, a stale red light hanging over the road. Sokka turned the wheel, slow and smooth, making a right turn down an unlit street. The headlights burned a path on the uneven pavement, dashboard and radio glowing in the darkness. He put his foot to the gas petal and the car accelerated passed empty tenements and dark, grass-infested lots.
There was a light patter against the windshield as droplets of water hit the glass.
"Hm. Looks like its gonna rain," he said, flipping down the switch to activate the wipers.
She calmly breathed through her nose, "So it will."
"Might get soaked. They said there might be a storm. Umbrella could come in handy," he said, a light touch of sarcasm with his words.
She raised her head and opened her eyes, staring up at the orange lights catching in the little drops of water pattering against the windows.
Shrugging, she lowered her head and closed her eyes, "So what? It doesn't matter to me."
Sokka nodded his head knowingly, "Mm-hm. I suppose you're right."
She sniffed the air, "Hmph. You always talk too much."
"Its what I do, Red."
The rain came down hard against the windshield, the road coated in a tar-like sheen, buildings along the cracked sidewalks shrouded in a heavy, watery mist. A homeless man under a street light ambled to his makeshift shelter as Sokka passed by. He saw him shake a fist at the sky, cursing the storm.
Another red light, another smooth turn, and another dark street along his route, going deeper into the city. Sokka casually glanced to the watch peeking out from under his jacket sleeve. He smirked. Still on time.
"I don't think you'll be late at this rate," he said.
"This is assuming I must be on time for something," she said, her tone flat.
He shrugged his shoulders casually, "I guess you could say that. If I needed to get somewhere important I wouldn't want some scrub driving me around and making wrong turns."
"In-directly patting yourself on the back. Careful, Driver, keep that up and your arm might break."
He mimicked an offended look as he kept his eyes on the road, "Ouch. That burned."
"Can't stand the heat? Pull over and cool the wound off in the rain."
He chuckled, "Lovely as always, Red."
"Thanks."
Shabby apartments with broken windows gave way to old factories and empty lots hemmed in by chain-linked fences. The roads were thin and rough and Sokka had to drive over the occasional deep puddle as the car lurched. Rusted metal walls and black smoke stacks climbed into the cloudy night, the rain pattering hard over the corrugated metal roofs.
Slowing his speed considerably, Sokka reached for the radio dial and turned down the music. Through the rain he spied an old warehouse, its massive doors left opened, its interior big enough to lay low in.
Bounding over the cracks and holes in the road he slowly drove inside, pulling up beside a wall with enough shadow to keep him concealed.
When he cut the headlights out he immediately killed the engine. Everything went dark and his eyes took a while to adjust. He left the key in the ignition.
"We're here."
Raising her head, she opened her eyes. Unfolding her arms she reached into her jacket, unclasped a strap, and took out her pistol. From the other side, hanging on a small, concealed bandoleer, she took hold of a matte-black silencer. She clasped it to the end of the barrel and tightened it.
"Red" she said, getting Sokka's attention, "Why to do call me that?"
He didn't answer her immediately, too pre-occupied as he unbuttoned his jacket and took out his own pistol.
Scanning the darkness around him, Sokka laid the pistol on his lap, gripping it firmly, finger off the trigger.
"Your sweater. The one you always like to wear under your jacket. I noticed you stopped wearing dress shirts when you got blood on them. Red's a good color on you."
With one last turn the silencer was secured to her pistol.
"You should learn to keep your eyes on the road more," she said, fixing him with a hard glare.
"Heh. Fair enough I guess."
She unbuttoned a covered pocket on her jacket. Reaching in, she then held out a sizable stack of crisp bills.
"For the ride. Stay here until I return. You'll get the rest once we're out of here safely."
Sokka took the stack from her hand and tucked them away into a pocket in his jacket.
"Safely huh? Expecting trouble?"
"Always."
He nodded his head, looking out through the rain-covered window, "You seem pretty calm for someone who might walk into a bloodbath."
She chuckled lightly, "When you are resolved from the beginning, then you will not be perplexed. You know what to expect and so there is no use in worrying about the inevitable."
Sokka blinked, his eyes widening, "Tsunetomo, right?"
She turned to him, a perplexed expression twisting her features, before nodding her head, "That's right."
"Huh. Go figure."
She said nothing, staring at him with a blank, unreadable expression. Without anything else to say she turned her head away, opening the door beside her and silently walking out into the cold night.
Her footsteps faded away as Sokka looked out into the dark, her silhouette merging with the rough-hewn shadows of the gutted warehouse.
All that was left for him to do was play the waiting game.
]|||[
At first, it was just the rain, the minutes passing and giving way to hours. As the storm passed, there was only silence, broken by the occasional groan of rusted support beams and squeaking leather as Sokka shifted uncomfortably in the driver's seat.
And then, like distant flashes of lightning out of the corner of his eye, came the gunfire.
Yellow sparks at the opposite end of the empty warehouse drew his eye, the patter of bullets ringing against the metal walls.
Through the brief flashes he saw a lone, shadowy figure rush across the puddle-strewn floor toward his car. He could hear her panting as she threw open the passenger door, the dull thud of an empty clip echoing through the warehouse as it hit the floor. The engine growled to life before she even shut the door and Sokka was already shifting gears before she loaded a fresh clip into her pistol.
"Go!"
Foot to the petal and engine roaring, the car sped forward as Sokka made a sharp turn through the warehouse opening, racing down the road.
Gunfire lit up his rear view mirror as bullets screamed by over the drone of the engine. He flinched as a bullet hit his rear windshield, the impact creating a small web of broken glass.
"Shit! The fuck did you do?!"
"Just shut up and drive!"
He pressed down on the gas petal hard, shifting gears again as the car bounded over the uneven road. He rocked forward and backward over every bump as she looked over her shoulder through the broken rear windshield, pistol at the ready.
The gunfire faded as the car sped passed rows of old warehouses and factories, the road getting smaller, the turns tighter.
As he rounded another difficult corner, gritting his teeth, he pressed down hard on the brakes just to make the turn. Gaining control, he quickly shifted his gaze to all his rear view mirrors.
A pair of yellow lights trailed behind him, gaining speed.
"We've got a tail," she said, rolling down the right hand window.
"I see 'em, I see 'em," he muttered, gripping the wheel as he struggled to switch to the proper gear.
"Then loose them!"
Sokka gunned the engine hard as he pressed down on the petal, speed dial spiking, RPM rising.
He could feel the grip on the tires slip against rain-slick surface of the road, every little correction to keep his car steady throwing him off, zigzagging and turning as empty lots gave way to apartments. Streetlights and telephone poles rushed by as he sped through empty intersections and over bumps, the bottom of the car grinding against the cement, the cold air blowing through the opened window.
Their tail stubbornly kept pace, getting closer.
"Its a fucking van, you can't outrun it!?" she yelled, looking back through the opened window as she reached out and attempted to aim her gun.
"Just watch me," he retorted, gripping the wheel as he sped passed another intersection, a stale red light passing over him.
"Then do it quick! They're bringing out the heavy gun!"
"Wait, what!?"
Before Sokka knew it, his rear view mirrors lit up, white-hot tracers racing passed his view as bullets tore up the road. Sparks, mud, and water scattered into the cold air. A terrible crack, like the high-pitched drone of a buzz saw, deafened his ears and he pressed his foot down on the petal, trying to out pace the bullets.
"They have a fucking machine gun!?" he yelled, barely catching a hint of the long barrel jutting out of the van's sliding door in his left rear view mirror.
Gunshots rang out in Sokka's ears to his right, flash flames glinting off the glass. Another thunderous volley from the machine gun in the van ripped through the air as a succession of metallic pangs rocked the car.
"German MG-3," spat his passenger, emptying her pistol as she reached into her jacket and loaded another clip, "It'll tear us to pieces if you don't shake them off!"
"What do think I'm trying to do!?"
Another blinding flash from the side of the van, bullets finding their mark as his left rear view mirror shattered to pieces, chunks of the rear windshield chipping away under the intense fire.
"Trying to get us killed apparently!" she yelled back, turning back to shoot through the massive hole in the window behind them.
Flashes blinded Sokka and spent casings nicked his suit and skin. He blinked, gritting his teeth as he tried to swerve out of the gun's line of sight.
The arrow on the speedometer climbed and he could feel the massive strain on the engine through the frame of his car as it hummed through the steering wheel to his palms. If this went on…
At the end of the road he spied an intersection through the dark, yellow flashing to red. He quickly glanced in his rear view mirror, the van hot on his tail as sparks licked off its bumper, bullets careening off the metal.
The intersection drew closer. His sweaty fingers drummed against the gear stick, hand twitching on the steering wheel as his eyes darted from the rapidly closing intersection to the van.
"Reloading!" she yelled over the wind blowing through the car, ducking forward in her seat as she reached for another clip.
Sokka's nostrils flared, heart thumping in his ears, "Hang on tight!"
Her eyes shot open as he hastily switched gears. She barely had time to take hold of the passenger handle hanging above her head when in a sudden, violent move Sokka brought the car into a sharp left turn. Rubber drifted across the slick pavement, a deafening screech tearing into their ears, the car lurching at a dangerous angle as the world blurred into a black and orange haze.
Shifting gears once more, Sokka stepped on the gas petal, the engine revving to life as the tail of the car skidded back into place. The RPM meter and speedometer spiked and Sokka raced down the darkened road, a wet and rubbery scent heavy on the cold breeze.
Through his rear view mirror he could see the van. It toppled over on its side, wheels lifted into the air as the gunner in the opened door was flung across the slick road like a rag doll. Screeching metal slid against the pavement and the van finally came to a violent stop, its hood crushed against a wooden telephone pole.
His eyes widened, chapped lips twisting into a wicked grin, "Yeah, did you see that!? Fucking perfect! That's what they get for fucking up my car!"
"For Christ-sake, just shut up and drive! We need to get out of here!" she yelled, sitting up in her seat as she looked back over her shoulder toward the receding van.
"Oh were gone, Red, we're gone!"
As he sped down the empty street, all lights green, Sokka could feel the cool air whip at his heated skin, the rush still humming through this bones, as if he had crossed a finish line.
He never felt more alive than after moments like those.
]|||[
It wasn't what he was expecting as far as a place to lay low. Then again she specifically asked to be brought here as part of the contract. He couldn't really complain. She even allowed him stay for a bit to rest up.
All things considered, it was a pretty good decision.
"Here y'go!"
Sokka never thought that the scent a hot, steaming bowl of ramen could be so enticing. When the shapely waitress with the big, lively gray eyes finally laid the tray in front of him he practically salivated. Tenderly cooked sliced pork, thick golden wheat noodles, dried seaweed, two boiled eggs, and chopped green onions. A meal fit for anyone.
Delicately, he took the spoon lying beside the bowl on the tray and dipped it onto the soup. Steam rose up into his nostrils and a warm, salty scent put the inescapable feeling of divine comfort into his very soul. He took a long sip, savoring the flavor of the meat broth mixed with soy sauce as it left a long warm trail down to his stomach.
He sighed, "Perfection."
Giggling, the young waitress smiled at him, "Thanks! Y'know it means a lot you saying that. My wife's been working hard to get just the right amount of soy sauce."
Sokka smiled back, lifting his thumb up while holding the spoon to his mouth, "She's a great cook then. Give her a kiss for a job well done."
"Oh, don't you worry about that. She gets lots of kisses!"
Opposite of him, leaning back against the seat in the tiny dining booth, Sokka's long time client rolled her eyes, "That will be all Ty Lee, thank you."
The waitress's smile faded a bit, masking something Sokka could only interpret as contempt.
"Sure thing, Azula," she said, trying to regain the sincerity in her voice, "I'll be out with your soup in a minute. Jin should be finishing up with it."
"Fine. Go then."
Ty Lee lingered for a moment. Narrowing her eyes, she walked away toward the front counter.
Sokka's eyes followed her as she made her way into the kitchen before turning back to his soup. Taking a mouthful of noodles, he swallowed hard and wiped his lips with a napkin.
"Azula huh?" he said, staring at her, "So, that's your name."
She sighed, "Yes. What of it?"
"Nothing. Just observing the fact I know your name."
Azula folded her arms in front her chest, leaning back in her seat as she fixed him with a steely glare, "My friend has a big mouth. You do well not to say that name outside this place."
Sokka chuckled, "Relax, will ya? Not like I have anything to gain from telling anyone. Breaks my confidentiality clause, y'know? I don't ask for names, clients don't give them, and what I know I keep to myself."
"Good. I would be well within my right to kill you if you did tell anyone. Breaks my reputation for discretion and secrecy."
"Oh, I'm shaking. My fucking sphincter just tightened."
"Ugh. Just eat your damn noodles. I shouldn't have let you stay."
"Sucks to be you. And I have no idea what the hell you're talking about, this ramen is phenomenal."
"Fool. There is a reason why this place gets few customers you know. The cook is horrible."
Sokka smirked, "You've obviously never tasted this ramen then. I'm sensing a bit of jealously here too. So, what, you got a thing for the waitress or something? Mad she didn't pick you or something?"
Azula's eyes narrowed, lips twisted into a grimace, "I don't swing that way, you little shit. If I did, then I wouldn't fuck former whores like her."
There was something in the tone of her voice that compelled Sokka to take her seriously.
His eyes widened, "Jesus. Way to bring down the fucking hammer, Azula. What do you have against people making a new life for themselves, huh?"
"Do you ever stop asking so many stupid fucking questions?"
He rolled his eyes, "Ugh, fine. Too tired anyway. Plus, I'd rather enjoy this soup in peace-"
"That makes two of us."
Sokka grimaced, pursing his lips, "… anyway, to make things even, how about you ask me question? If I answer, then I shut up after that. I swear it."
She stared at him for a moment, her expression unreadable, clouded by fatigue. The night had taken its toll on her.
She smirked, "Make things even, huh? Fine. What's your name?"
He blinked, unexpectedly surprised, "Uh. It's Sokka."
She sniffed the air derisively, "Huh. Sokka. That name sounds stupid enough not to be a fake one."
"… Its Aboriginal Canadian. Inuit."
"Well, no wonder."
"Oh, you fucking bi-"
"Ah! What did we agree on?" she stated, a smug smile twisting her lips.
Sokka growled under his breath. Narrowing his eyes at her he then turned his attention to the steaming bowl of ramen in front of him. Using the chopsticks he inhaled a mouthful of noodles, eating in relative silence.
They never said anything else for the rest of their meal, Azula getting her bowl shortly after him, failing to even thank the waitress. Before they left, she slid the last of his payment across the table and he accepted it without a word.
When they were done they parted ways, Sokka walking toward his car and Azula walking the opposite direction.
He heard her voice call out to him when he turned away.
"Thanks."
Taken back, Sokka pausing for a moment. He then turned on his heels, smiled, and waved her goodbye. She turned away, walking under the flickering streetlights until she faded into the night.
Sokka knew he'd see her again. She was tough. She had to be in her line of work.
As for him - he'd be around. Everyone needed a driver to get out of a tight spot and he was just crazy enough for the job.
A/N:
Mixed in a bit of "The Hire" as well. Those short movies are surprisingly good.
Hope you enjoyed and I'll see you in the next installment.