Author's Note: This is an unfinished fic/test chapter that I thought you'd enjoy. Based upon Taylor Swift's Bad Blood.

'Cause, baby, now we got bad blood

You know it used to be mad love

So take a look what you've done

'Cause, baby, now we got bad blood

Now we got problems

And I don't think we can solve them

You made a really deep cut

And, baby, now we got bad blood

"You've got talent, call me."

Everyone in Los Angeles knew what happened if you were scouted at a gym, a boxing club, and simply work. Everyone also knew who and what Gail Abernathy-McKadden was. People were beginning to train their children, purely so they could be scouted by the ex-professional boxer.

"I will make sure your family stay safe."

False promises, some people called them. Simply syllables that dissipate and leave behind a sweet scent; unless you fell for them. As the stories went, Gail changes people, not necessarily for the better. She takes them and she gives them a persona, a new identity.

"I hope your punch is not particularly good purely because you're acting on liquid courage."

It didn't matter who you were. If you could throw a punch, and hold your own… Gail wanted you. The rich and powerful would boast if their children had been enlisted by the veteran fighter - America had accepted that there were people out there who would defend and fight for what they believed in. Even the President of the United State's daughter had been seen as worthy, at the tender age of 19.

"Call me, or they will call on you."

The man boasted that fact; his daughter was worthy, he was proud of her. Whenever he got the chance, he would thank the woman who had turned his 'failure' of a daughter into the most amazing 23-year-old he had ever met.

"I hope you make the right decision."

It always went like that, a story of them simply packing up and moving, taking on their new lives as if it were nothing. They were still allowed to visit their families, let them know that their new lives were going as promised. As of Knockout joining Gail's organisation, the total went up to 10.

"You would be a great addition, Mitchell."

Everyone saw them on the news, they knew who they were. But no one outside the organisation had any idea of what was carried out in the top secret, high security, building. If you asked anyone, they'd be able to name the nine women easily.

"First, there's obviously Catastrophe, the President's daughter, and Gail's clear favourite."

"Crimson Fury, with the crimson hair."

"Homeslice, that 17 year old."

"Dilema, is she one? I'm not really sure, she doesn't do much."

"Domino, with the motorcycles."

"The Trinity, apparently she's a trained Korean spy."

"Cutthroat, with the massive hair."

"Frostbite, the tall brunette."

"Mother Clucker, the Australian."

'Seven more found dead after unexplained explosion in San Francisco.'

"Jesus christ." The small brunette readjusted her sunglasses, the sun glaring right into her path of vision. The headline at the top of her phone was explaining exactly what kind of a world she was venturing into - a dangerous one. "What the fuck are you doing Beca?" Her question was left unanswered as the DJ reached the door of the gym she regularly worked out at.

'A statement from the police department says, "we cannot pursue this case, there is no evidence left on the crime scene at all." we think there's more to this story than they're letting on.'

The brunette's eyes moved from the screen of her phone when a car pulled up. The windows were tinted, but Beca matched the number plate to the one in a picture Gail had text her. Now or never, right? Beca opened the rear door and slid onto the back seat of the Mercedes, recognising the woman driving as Catastrophe, Gail's supposed favourite out of all nine of the trained women.

"Where are we going?" Beca leant forward so that her head was just behind the blonde's seat. "Is this car yours?"

"Shut up." Catastrophe's voice was hard, one you certainly didn't want to mess with. "You will find out as soon as we reach our destination."

Beca's eyes rolled to the back of her skull, "that's a bit hyperbolic of you."

"Shut up DJ, you may have millions of Twitter followers, but that isn't getting you anywhere once you're with us." Catastrophe shifted the car into second gear and began their journey towards wherever their destination was. Beca didn't know, neither did most of America, but she was intrigued to see what life was really like within one of the most well-respected organisations in the country. "You're new meat, and I could kill you right now if I wanted to."

The blonde pressed a button, causing the windows to become several shades darker than they were before, completely obstructing Beca's view of the city that they passed.

"Dude! I want to actually see the route." Beca looked over the outfit Catastrophe was wearing, a black all-in-one that hugged her curves perfectly, her small waist being accentuated even more. Her knee-high boots were heeled and black, hugging her calfs and making those, too, look magnificent. "Don't you dare say that isn't allowed."

"That isn't allowed." Catastrophe ran a hand down her long ponytail, pulling the blonde locks so they rest against her right shoulder. "I've done this nine times now, and you have got to be the most annoying person I've met yet."

"You're the very first?"

"Yes. But you won't be the very first person I've ever strangled, that's for sure."

"That's cold, man."

Catastrophe scoffed, "you haven't met cold until you've met Frostbite."

"Sounds hot."

"Shut up before I have to taser you."

Beca smirked, catching the blonde's eyes in the rear view mirror, "now that is fucking hot."