[identity profile] x-deadpool.livejournal.com posting in [community profile] xp_logs
This is how an ex-spy and a sort-of-still-mercenary work through their issues after the end of the world as they knew it.


Peering through the scope of his sniper rifle, North watched the titillating view of their mark's living room curtains fluttering in the night breeze. His back was going to hate the prone position he had adopted on the roof, but their mark had driven up to the house five minutes ago, leaving half his bodyguard entourage to skulk about the perimeter.

Most of the armed guards were smoking and conversing amongst themselves, so with Wade taking watch, North felt... safe enough. Mostly the marksman just wanted to finish this job so that they could retire to their dingy safehouse and knock back a few bottles of beer.

Wade watched the security detail from his spot below North's vantage point and considered their options. The other man could take out their mark easy peasy, no trouble at all. But that didn't leave him with anything to do. Flicking a throwing knife into his palm, he paused a moment and then flicked it back into its sheath. "When you take the shot," he murmured, knowing their comms would pick it up, "I'm going after the security guards."

His companion merely hummed, hardly surprised. "All yours, dummkopf."

North would take the shot when it came, clean up, and be waiting in the car parked in a driveway a quarter mile away once Wade was done slaking his bloodthirst for the night. Simple. Quick. In and out. It was almost routine by now and the German found that it was easier to let the other mutant deal with his anger on his own terms. Sometimes North joined in, but tonight he was happy playing sniper from afar. The man's family was inside and he had vetoed the idea of storming the place.

Their mark was a disgusting man North had no qualms killing. The packet of information Wade had tossed him the night before had identified the man as a major source of funding for the purchase and training of children to be used in the war. So when a thin face with a cruel sneer obligingly stepped into his crosshairs, he inhaled softly and pulled the trigger.

One shot to the throat. Two seconds for him to gurgle.

Exhale.

One shot through the eye.

Brain dead.

Wade was moving before the second bullet hit home. While the guy in the house was the brains and money behind the operation, his men outside took no small pleasure in acquiring and abusing the children they trained before sending them off to die. So Wade took a great deal of pleasure out of killing three of them before the screaming inside started. It was just the wife - she was probably smart enough to make off with whatever she could once she got over the shock.

Blitz attacks were so much more fun than shoot-outs.

Five minutes later and Wade met North at the car, proof of death in hand. "Man, I could use a beer," he said, sliding into the passenger's seat as he wiped a few specks of blood off his knuckles.

A large square of dark cloth was tossed at him as North started the car and drove away from the job site. He really hated getting blood on rentals. "Bought a couple dozen and stowed it in the cooler this morning." All the beers Wade would need for tonight. "Also some whiskey if you are inclined."

"Sure I'm inclined," Wade said, using the rag. "But are you? You know what they say about drinking alone." And he wasn't inclined to screw up North's... recovery or whatever. Make him fall off the wagon. If the German was even on a wagon.

"Beer is fine," even if it killed the whiskey-lover in him. But North was not one to let go of his iron control. At least not until the recent demons in his head quietened down. Nice, planned violence had worked wonders with the both of them, but North suspected that it would take some time before the horrors of world-destruction stopped featuring in their nightmares. Beer was enough of a concession for now. "You have our next job yet?"

"Yep," Wade confirmed. "We'll need to move safehouses but our window's open in two days so we have time. I'll give you the file once I get it from Patch. I think we're meant to break the military's back here, though. That's always fun."

North snorted. "Just do not put me in front of a tank again." Not that he had not enjoyed the ride on the main gun before breaking in the driver's optics.

"Oh, c'mon," Wade said, letting himself slouch a little so he could check for tails in the side view mirror. "You enjoyed that. Take the next left." They were nowhere near their safehouse but it was better safe than sorry.

The spy shot him a sideglance and maybe took the left turn more sharply than he should have. It was night time and given the state of unrest in South Sudan, North did not want to spend too much time exposed on the road. He kicked the speed up a notch. "I enjoyed it as much as I did hanging off that cliff you swore had the best vantage point of the camp."

"Well," Wade said. "I wasn't wrong about it being the best vantage. My intel just didn't mention the fact that it was ten meters down the side of the cliff." The car he'd spotted drove past the turn they'd made but another took its place and that was tailing 101, wasn't it? "Anyway, you had fun. Proved you were pretty spry for an old guy."

Shaking his head -- whether in exasperation or disagreement, no one could tell -- North took a right and then another left onto yet another dusty road, not worried enough for his powers to kick in, but sharp enough to pick up on Wade's paranoia. The vehicle fell out of sight from his rearview mirror and they were alone on the road for a while.

"I will need to head back soon."

Wade just grunted his response. It wasn't really agreement but it did acknowledge the truth of things. While Wade was 'rebuilding contacts' in Africa, North should've been doing something productive somewhere in Eastern Europe. Instead, they were just killing people and getting paid. It'd been a nice vacation.

"You still have people to live for," North quietly reminded him later as they pulled up behind the safe house. But he left it at that, as he alighted, retrieving his gun from the backseat and popping the trunk for Wade. "Biscuits and beer for supper?"

"Sure," Wade said, grabbing his bag from the trunk. "Sounds like a plan." And once they'd had their biscuits and beer, he'd have to figure out if he was going to keep doing what he was doing here in Africa once North left. But that was for later. For now, he needed to get inside and clean his gear.
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