A/N: I'm back! After a long month full of writing 50k words of a novel, I am back! And I've got a lot in store for this story and new stories to come!
I hope you guys missed me a bit. :) Here's Chapter 17 of "The Unexpendable". I hope you guys enjoy it profusely.
Oh! And yippee to the relase of The Expendables on DVD! Cross your fingers for me! I hope to get it for Christmas!
Erin crouched among the bushes and ferns, perched on the outside of Alexander Montoya's security system. Her SOG throwing knives pressed into her skin, strapped to various places for easy access. The cool night air stiffened her exposed fingers, made them rigid. She clenched and unclenched her hands, her eyes darting around, eyeing the security. A man passed close to her, Uzi in hand. Buff and brooding, the man could have intimidated any he came across.
Too bad it was only Erin.
She jumped the man, one knife sliding into his back, the other slicing across his neck. He gurgled, bucked, collapsed to the ground, the Uzi falling into the dirt beside him. Erin dragged the man into the bushes, picked up the Uzi. Slinging it over her shoulder, she stuck to the shadows, darting along the perimeter as quickly as possible. Clad in black, she blended easily into the darkened foliage that made up Montoya's expensive, elaborate landscaping. Only the bulkiness of her Kevlar vest – she never liked wearing it, but Ross had insisted – bothered her and impeded some of her agility. The Colt .45 on her hip weighed heavily on her belt, reminding her of its presence – and its job.
The second guard staggered, a knife jutting out of his neck. Erin yanked it from him, nodding to herself in appraisal of her accuracy, and kicked the gun away from him. He bled to death on the grass, fertilized the soil; Erin was already halfway to the house. The third and fourth guards, standing at the door, on the alert, took silenced bullets to the chest, their bodies slumping against the wall.
"This is too easy," Erin muttered to herself, stepping around the bodies. "Too fucking easy."
The front door, much to Erin's surprise days before when she had read the information Yang had provided, was the only door that wasn't hooked up to the alarm. She slipped inside, clicked the door shut quietly behind her. Her black combat boots made only the slightest of squeaky sounds on the floor, the marble resisting against the soles of the boots. Erin's hands slid over the Uzi, yanked back the safety. She heard a bullet slide into the breech from the extended magazine, a wicked grin crossing her face.
"This is gonna be fun."
She crouched, scurried along the walls. Another guard patrolled the corridor, his back turned to Erin as she approached. Her knife tore into his throat. The body hidden in the nearest room, Erin continued through the house, heading for the staircase. She took the stairs two at a time, a bit recklessly. A man stopped on the top landing, glanced behind his shoulder. His Uzi swung around towards the intruder.
A knife sliced through the air, nailed the man in the forehead. He dropped, his Uzi clattering over the marble stairs. Erin pivoted around, her own Uzi seeking the owner of the knife. Handheld flashlight in hand, Erin illuminated the newcomer's face.
"Christmas," she hissed, clicking the light off. "What the fuck are you doing here?"
"Saving your ass," he growled, hurrying past her; he yanked his knife out of the dead man's skull, wiped the blood off on the man's clothes.
Erin darted up after him, made sure the landing was clear. "Who else is here?"
"Ross," Christmas answered, unsheathed another knife. "Everybody except Tool."
"You guys are stubborn asses."
"I just saved your life."
Erin shook her head, glanced into one of the bedrooms. "I had it covered."
Christmas flanked Erin's right side. "Covered, my ass."
"Well, your pants came off so fast that your ass wasn't covered for very long, was it?"
"Same goes for your panties."
"You ripped them in half."
Christmas snatched the Uzi out of Erin's hands, grunted. "You ripped my boxers. That makes us even."
"You bit me."
"And you threw a frying pan at my fucking head." Christmas pushed open another door, glanced around. "Let's get this over with."
Erin beckoned Lee over, gestured to the double-doors at the very end of the hallway. Flanked by two guards, one milling aimlessly up and down the hallway, faint laughter trickled through the wood. The two mercs eyed the guards and pulled back, each trying to formulate a plan.
"I've got the one on the right," Lee said, double-checked the Uzi.
"Fuck no. I get the one on the right."
"Don't fucking argue with me."
"Ha! Like you haven't been doing that for the past week."
"Fuck you."
"You already did." Erin pulled the Colt .45 off her belt, checked the full magazine. "I get the guy on the right."
Christmas glared at the woman. "Fine. On three. One – "
Erin rushed forward, sprinted down the hallway. The guards looked up, startled. Christmas cursed, hurried after Erin, Uzi raised. Erin plugged the first guard in the chest, undaunted by his larger and much more powerful gun. She was at the doors by the time Lee emptied half the Uzi's magazine into the second guard, his brow furrowed with frustration.
"What the fuck!"
A bullet scattered the naked woman's brains onto the opposite wall, her body collapsing back onto the bed. Alexander Montoya, partially graying hair and all, hit the floor, reached for the gun in the bedside table's drawer. Erin leapt over the bed, slammed into the older man. Rolling across the floor, Montoya punched her in the stomach, knocked the air out of her lungs despite the Kevlar vest. His fist connected with her temple, white pain burst exploding in her vision. The gun was yanked from her hand, her trigger finger snapping and coursing with pain. Erin tumbled away from the man, taking refuge behind the dresser.
Christmas rushed into the bedroom, saw the Colt .45 come up too late. He crashed against the second door, his heart palpitating from the pain. His chest screamed at him, the bullet still burning in his Kevlar vest. The air punched out of his lungs, Lee felt the Uzi slip out of his hands and thud onto the carpet. A hand grabbed him roughly by the collar, yanked him to his feet. Nausea rose up in his throat; the cold steel of a gun pressed to his temple didn't help much.
"Show yourself," Montoya's voice cried, "or your buddy here dies!"
Slowly, Erin stood up from behind the dresser, her eyes smoldering. Montoya stared at her, widened his eyes in recognition.
"You," he snarled.
"Back from the past." Erin stepped around the dresser. "Let him go, Montoya."
"Why the fuck would I listen to you?"
"You're going to die anyway."
"To hell with that!" Montoya pressed the gun harder into Lee's temple. "I'm the one with the fucking gun."
"Let him go," Erin began, taking a step forward, "and I'll let you shoot me."
Christmas's eyes widened. "Fuck no."
Montoya arched an eyebrow. "How do I know he won't shoot me if I let him go?"
"He won't." Erin fixed Lee with a hard gaze. "I promise."
Montoya shook his head. "I can't trust either of you." He glared at Erin. "What is this? Is it because of your parents? Your brother?"
"Fuck you."
"I wish you that thought crossed your mind when you were sixteen," Montoya sneered. "Then we wouldn't be having this problem."
Erin swallowed thickly. "Let him go."
"Who? Baldy McBaldy here?" Montoya gave a harsh laugh. "No, I'm going to kill him first, and then I'll kill you."
Erin took another step forward. "You're making a bad decision."
Ross, Hale, Yang, Gunner, and Toll Road topped the landing, stopped at the double-doors. Ross's chest constricted, his eyes darting between Montoya and Erin. Montoya shot the merc team a glance, pulled Christmas tighter to him. Ross turned to Yang, who stood the farthest from the door.
"Can you get a clear shot?" he asked.
Yang shook his head. "Christmas is in the way."
Alexander laughed again. "You can't touch me without killing your friend. Who's it going to be?"
"You're making a mistake," Erin repeated, trying to ignore the pain in her finger. "Let Christmas go."
"Christmas?" Montoya shook his head. "Who the hell names their kid Christmas?"
"The Brits," Hale muttered, his hand tightened on his gun; he turned to Ross. "Can't we just fucking kill him?"
Erin shook her head slowly, her eyes never leaving Montoya's face. "I'm giving you one last chance. Let him go, and then you can shoot me."
The entire team stiffened. Ross wanted to throw himself into the room, knock Erin aside. Her stare kept him rooted in place, his mind racing a thousand miles per second and getting nowhere. Christmas swallowed thickly, his arms pulling on Montoya's arm.
"Hey, asshole," he yelled, "don't listen to her!"
The muzzle of the gun gouged into Christmas's temple, scraped his skin. "Shut up." Montoya pulled the hammer back on the Colt .45, looked back up at Erin. "How does it feel to lose everybody close to you? It's like you're fucking cursed."
Erin stood motionless, thin-lipped, hands limp at her sides.
"This would be the fourth person I've killed because of you," Montoya said. "See what you do?"
"Hey," Christmas yelled again, "don't do that! Just let her go!"
"Shut – "
Erin pulled the knife from her belt, snapped her arm forward. Montoya's head jerked back, his words dying in his throat. His back slammed into the floor, the Colt .45 tumbling out of his hand. Christmas sagged to his knees, gasping for air. Erin lowered her arm, her hands shaking. She swallowed thickly, took a deep breath. The Expendables, Christmas included, stared at her, mouths gaping. She stumbled forward on shaky legs, heart pounding against her ribs. She paused by Christmas's side, her eyes on Montoya's wide, lifeless eyes. She picked up the Colt .45, clicked the safety on. She yanked the knife out of his forehead, wiped his blood off on his silk robe. Her hand came to rest on Christmas's shoulder. She gave him a firm squeeze, finally faced the rest of the team.
"Hi."
Ross hurried forward, pulled Erin into his arms. The other Expendables turned away, startled by the unusual display of emotion on Ross's part. The constriction in Ross's chest relaxed, his nose buried into Erin's hair, taking in her scent. She hugged him back briefly, disengaged herself from his arms, and smiled.
"Told ya I had it handled," she managed to say, her voice surprisingly feeble. She reached down, pulled Christmas to his feet. "We need to get him fixed up," she said. "He took a bullet to the chest."
"Rehab's a bitch," Toll Road called from the hallway, breaking into a smirk.
"You would know," Hale retorted. "Rehab's the only bitch you could ever lay your hands on."
"Fuck you! I'm up to my eyes in pussy."
"You fucking wish."
Erin shook her head. "Why don't you guys get your asses over her and help Christmas?"
"We don't take orders from you," Gunner joked.
"Fuck you."
"We all wish."
The men burst into laughter. Even Christmas cracked a smile through his pain. He clung to Erin as he waited for the other guys to help him out of the house, unable to think of anything else but the feel of her arms around him. Toll Road and Hale propped Christmas up between them, Gunner being too tall to help carry Lee, Yang being too short. Erin gave Ross's hand a comforting squeeze, her other hand snapping the SOG knife back onto her belt.
"Can we go now?" she asked. "The guards'll be here any second."
Ross nodded.
On the plane back home, Christmas bandaged up and lying down in the back, the men celebrated and popped open a few beers. Erin grabbed two and headed towards the back of the plane, the other men too caught up in their laughter and enthusiasm to notice her leave for a moment. She shut the big metal door behind her, faced Christmas. He grimaced up at her, the light overhead shining right in his eyes.
"I brought you a beer," Erin said, handed him the bottle; she sat down next to him, popped open her own, took a deep, long swig.
Christmas held the beer in his hands, pulled himself up into a sitting position. He gazed at Erin over the top of the beer bottle, his eyes searching the profile of her face. He frowned, stared down at his hands.
"Back there," he began quietly, trailed off.
Erin faced him, one eyebrow arched high on her forehead. "Yeah?"
"When you told that asshole to let me go and kill you…"
Erin nodded, understanding dawning on her. "I meant what I said." She took a sip of her beer. "I'd give up my life for any of you guys – all of you guys, if I had to. If it were The Ravenous, I would do any and everything to protect them, even if it means I have to die. They were my family." She paused. "The same applies to you guys. I can't afford to lose another family, can I?"
She gave Christmas a weary smile, held up her beer bottle. "To The Expendables."
After a moment, Lee lifted up his bottle. "To The Expendables."
They drank in silence.