Chapter Text
There were pros and cons to working for a mercenary group that operated mostly outside the law.
One of the biggest pros, in Fox’s humble opinion, was the fact that she was making fucking bank. Information was both something everyone needed, and were willing to pay a pretty penny for. And information was her specialty. It didn’t matter what they tried to shut her out with -encryptions, firewalls, whatever- if there was a digital copy of something, she could get her hands on it. Fox had been doing these kinds of jobs for a while, long before she started working for KorTac, but either she had been way undercharging or KorTac was way overcharging because she was making significantly more than she had on her own.
Next was the security. Gone were the days when she would constantly bounce from city to city, always looking over her shoulder, always cautious of the eyes on her whenever she entered a room. Beyond simply having her own private work room/bedroom, the actual facility itself basically functioned as a small fortress. Not to mention the countless, highly skilled mercs living in its walls. KorTac only hired the best of the best after all.
Another was how much traveling she got to do. Occasionally she needed to leave the base in order to meet with a client in person, usually because they had a USB drive they needed cracked, which dragged her all over the planet. Like she said, everyone needed information. And that was just fine with her since she was basically getting paid to travel more than a middle-aged rich person. It wasn’t like she had to worry for her safety on these ‘trips’ either, seeing how KorTac always sent at least two or three operators with her.
Which led her to her last pro, and her first con: her coworkers.
The pro was that for a group of battle-hardened mercenaries, most of them were pretty chill.
Fox usually got paired with the same three people, Horangi, Hutch, and/or Stiletto, but she had met everyone on base at least once. Although, she could admit that out of everyone, she preferred those three.
And of those three, Hutch took the title of favorite. Mostly because he was the only one who could keep up with her when she talked tech. He even surpassed her in some ways. Fox may have the upper hand when it came to software, but Hutch was far more knowledgeable about the hardware side of things. He was even helping her build her own computer; something Fox had always wanted, but never had the time or knowledge for. Plus, since they were the only two people on base from America, whenever they got paired together they would start chanting, “USA! USA!” With the sole intention of annoying everyone around them. Which it always did.
Horangi and Stiletto were tied for second place, but for different reasons.
Horangi was quiet, but absolutely hilarious at times. Fox would never forget the time their heli got blown up during a firefight, and afterwards Horangi -who was also their pilot- had looked at the flaming shell of what was suppose to be their ride out of there, then turned to the group and in the most deadpan voice said, “Don’t worry guys, I think it can still fly.”
And whether it was the adrenaline wearing off or just the absurdity of the situation in general, Fox found herself laughing so hard she started wheezing. She quickly found out he was full of little quips like that, but it was his delivery that killed her every time; always said in the same dry tone, no matter the situation.
Stiletto was much more solemn, but it was clear she took the safety of those around her very seriously. She always made sure everyone was fully equipped before they headed out, and looked everyone over when they got back. And God help you if you had so much as a scratch.
Fox had been on the receiving end of her mother henning once, after a fight that broke out on a job.
She had cut her arm on a piece of glass when she crawled through a broken window to hide, and when she had gotten the all clear to come out, the woman had zeroed in on it like she could smell the blood. She then proceeded to clean it out using water from her own canteen, spray it with some kind of disinfectant, pack it with gauze, wrap it with a bandage, and practically dragged Fox back to the heli by her vest. Once back on base, she had herded the younger woman to the medbay and stuck around until Fox had been given the all clear.
At this point everyone knew better than to try and hide injuries from her. It was futile. She would find them, she would drag you to medical, and she would stare you down while the nurses looked you over, radiating dissapointed mom energy the entire time.
Thankfully a fight breaking out was rare. Usually it was because the group that hired them got pissy if the drive Fox cracked didn’t have the information they wanted -as if that was somehow her fault- or ended up starting shit due to their own paranoia.
Which led her into the con: being painfully aware that she was the weak link.
Where the others had been picked for their proficiency on the battlefield, Fox was a bit of a special case. She was a hacker, a damn good one, but that was really all she had going for her. That didn’t mean she was completely useless. If the people they were facing had anything automated -drones, turrents, UVs- she could either bring it down or take control within seconds. But anything with guns or actual physical fighting, she was kind of dead weight.
She made sure to hide somewhere if shit did go south so the others could focus on fighting instead of worrying about her, but always felt a small pit of guilt gnawing at her stomach when she did. She hated hiding away while they were risking their lives, but it wasn’t like she had a whole lot of options. She didn’t have the same military background as the rest of them, hadn’t so much as held a gun before, and it wasn’t like KorTac offered free lessons.
Thankfully, her little group seemed unbothered by her lack of combat skills, or at the very least, they never said anything about it. Not to her anyways.
The second con was their, for lack of a better term, working conditions. The way it worked was that everyone was basically on call at all times. If KorTac accepted a job offer, you needed to be ready to ship out within the hour, with a few rare exceptions. Which meant no one could really be off base longer than a day, and even that was frowned upon. Which was completely ridiculous in Fox’s opinion. They bounced from job to job, and were constantly in danger of dying, but couldn’t even leave for a long weekend?
You also couldn't really deny a contract. KorTac filtered through all the jobs to make sure they wouldn't be sending anyone into a trap, or sending them somewhere that might start world war three, but beyond that they would operators just about anywhere, as long as the pay was good enough. She had heard more than a few horror stories from the others about some of the horrific conditions they had been forced into, or the injuries they had gotten because the people they were working for were idiots who didn't know what they were doing. It was ridiculous.
She was honestly considering trying to get the others to unionize or something. They didn’t even get dental.
The third and last con was the annoyance that came with sharing a space with other people. There was already a small army living on the base, and KorTac was bringing in more operators consistently. Everyone had their own rooms, but shared spaces like the showers, common rooms, and the kitchen were lawless wastelands. Normally it didn’t bother Fox -she had been bounced around one to many too-full foster homes growing up- but recently someone had crossed the line.
See, Fox usually pulled all-nighters while she was working. The way most of these contracts worked was that the faster she got them done, the more she would get paid. And normally if she was just trying to crack something, it took her no time at all. However, Fox would occasionally get contracted to locate someone, which meant planting her butt in her chair for hours and hours while she and her programs dug through security footage, traffic cams, and ATM recordings to try and spot them.
Fox hated those kinds of jobs, but they always paid exceptionally well.
But anyways, for that very reason, she had invested in a coffee machine. One of those super fancy expense ones that rich people had. It could even make espresso shots. It had been a bit of a gamble to leave it in the kitchen, but thankfully everyone had quickly agreed on a few rules with it.
Rule 1: If you use the coffee maker, then you make damn well sure to clean up after yourself.
Rule 2: If you used up anything -flavored syrup, coffee beans, creamer- then you had to replace it. No. Exceptions.
And Rule 3: All the supplies were to be kept on the counter next to the machine. No one wanted to play the ‘Let's dig through the cabinets for twenty minutes to find where the last person who used the machine put everything’ game at three in the morning.
Unfortunately, some asshole had been breaking that last one, packing everything but the machine itself up onto the highest shelf of the cabinets. Which meant that Fox was currently stuck playing the 'Where the fuck are the coffee supplies' game, slamming through the cabinets while muttering threats and swears in kind under her breath.
She had no idea which one of these assholes was doing this, but she silently vowed to make their life a living hell once she found out. They didn’t seem to realize she had access to every inch of this building. She could lock them out of the bathrooms. She could make the speakers blast music whenever they came or left a room.
Or she could go the more subtle route and make their smoke detector always beep right when they were about to fall asleep, slowly driving them to a sleep deprived insanity.
Wait, did this building even have smoke detectors?
No, no, focus. Coffee.
A little more digging finally revealed the supplies sitting up on the top shelf of the third cabinet, hovering cruelly out of reach. Exhaustion fogged her brain as she just stood there for a moment, trying to figure out what to do. At 5 '3 Fox wasn't exactly short, but she sure as hell wasn't tall, and she definitely wasn't going to be able to reach the supplies. Not without some help anyways.
She debated dragging a chair over before deciding that was too much work and just clambered up onto the counter instead. She stretched as high up as she could while staying on her knees -unwilling to put her shoes on the counter like some kind of psychopath- and let out a sigh of relief when that put everything just within reach.
A triumph grin plastered itself across her face as she transferred the coffee beans, flavored syrup, and grinder to the counter, then shimmed backwards and hopped down, swaying slightly once her feet hit the ground. She braced herself on the counter, waiting for the dizzy spell to pass.
Seemed the lack of sleep was finally catching up to her.
As if to drive the point home, Fox let out an ear splitting yawn, having to fight the overwhelming urge to curl up on the floor and nap. Instead she headed over to the fridge, sleepily rubbing one eye, and accidentally bumped into it, smacking her hand along the side until she found the handle and pulled it open. She squinted as the light from the fridge temporarily blinded her before swiping her favorite creamer and heading back to the counter. The exhaustion must have made her coordination worse than usual though, because on the way back she tripped over…something. Probably her own foot. She didn’t really have time to think about it as she let out a small yelp and shot a hand out to break her fall. But rather than hitting the ground, Fox was stopped halfway by some kind of bar. She clung to it, feeling even more disoriented when the bar gently pushed her back upright.
Fox glanced down in confusion, that confusion only growing when she realized that it wasn’t a bar that caught her, but a hand. It was a rather large hand -almost cartoonishly so, nearly spanning the entirety of her waist- gloved, so she couldn’t see if they had any scars or tattoos. Slowly, Fox let her eyes drag over a sleeve covered arm, across a broad shoulder, and up to a pair of eyes staring at her from beneath a sniper hood.
The eyes blinked at her. Fox blinked back.
Her first thought, embarrassingly enough, was that they had been attacked and that this guy was an enemy soldier. In her defense she didn’t recognize him. Fox may not be close with most of the operators, but she was pretty sure she’d remember working with someone like this. It also didn’t help that he was fully kitted out. Like, he looked like either he had just come back from a job, or he was about to go on one; wearing everything except body armor.
Although, she couldn't be too sure he wasn't wearing any under his hoodie.
His sniper hood certainly looked like he had just stepped off the battlefield, even in the low lighting she could see questionable stains dotted across it, including some odd streaks running down the fabric below his eyes; like a mimicry of tear tracks.
Before she could panic too bad, logic pointed out how unlikely it was that the base had been attacked without her noticing, or that an enemy soldier would be chilling in their communal kitchen in a hoodie, or that said enemy soldier would catch her when she tripped instead of, you know, putting a bullet between her eyes.
He must be a new hire then.
That set Fox’s teeth on edge almost as badly.
She had been in the world too long to not know that there were assholes everywhere. People with all their little comments about her age (how she couldn’t possible know what she was doing despite the fact that she was arguably one of the best hackers in the world), or her gender (the same type of remarks one of her middle school teacher used to sneer at her about how computers were for boys), or better yet both. Fox really didn't feel like rolling the dice on whether or not this guy was a dick, which meant she was going to have to get out of this situation as quickly and painlessly as possible.
She weighed her options carefully.
Fighting was absolutely not an option here, sniper hood looked like he would be able to pick her up and squish her like a grape, so flight it was then. She was going to run, maybe throw the creamer as a distraction -a good, solid plan- but found herself hesitating. Was she really going to leave here without her coffee? The entire reason she came out in the first place?
Fox didn’t even have to think about it.
She had been staring at her computer screens for the past 22 hours, her brain felt like a pile of mash potatoes, and she had god knows how many more hours of work ahead of her. She was getting her damn coffee and by jove neither god nor this large, terrifying stranger were going to stop her.
Sniper hood cleared his throat, dragging her back to the present, and that was when she realized she was still holding his arm. As soon as she let go, he took a few steps back, wringing his hands together almost nervously. “Forgive me, Fräulein”, He said in a surprisingly soft voice, a thick German accent hanging off every word, “I wanted to make sure you would not fall.”
Fox blinked owlishly at him, casting a brief glance towards the floor before looking back up and nodding. It would be rather bad if she fell, she might hit her head. She needed her head not-damaged for things like hacking. Or coffee making.
“Thanks.” She mumbled, feeling her shoulders relax a fraction at the apology. It wasn’t like she thought he needed to, but most people managed to shove their foot in their mouth within the first sentence they said to her. Mr. sniper hood here was already doing better than most.
Speaking of doing better, Fox would be doing a whole lot better if she could get some caffeine in her system. The thought of flooding her veins with that sweet, sweet nectar of the gods had her eagerly hurrying back to the counter, filling the machine with water, cracking open the bag of beans, and dumping them into the grinder. However, her plans were cut drastically short once she realized she was missing something important.
She forgot the filters.
Shooting an annoyed look back up at the cabinet, Fox let out a huff and planted her hands on the counter, getting ready to haul herself back up, but before she could, sniper mask intervened. “Perhaps I could help?”
Fox paused, having kind of forgotten he was there, turning to face him only to be met with a torso. She craned her neck as she looked up and up and up to meet his eyes. For some reason, she hadn’t really registered just how tall he was. Because he was. Tall that is. Tall enough, in fact, to reach the highest shelf of the cabinet with ease.
Perfect!
“The filters.” She made sure to point up at them, unsure if her request would get lost in translation. Thankfully, sniper hood seemed to know exactly what she was talking about, grabbing the filters and lowering them to her. Fox couldn’t stop the grin that swept across her face, patting his forearm and muttering, “Good man.” Before grabbing them.
With everything ready, Fox started the coffee maker up, and then turned her attention on making an espresso shot. She usually put two or three shots in with coffee, then dumped enough flavored creamer and syrup to drown out any bitterness. One might think that was too much caffeine; that she was an animal, a manic even, for drinking that much in one go. Those people were what Fox liked to call cowards and weaklings.
She wondered if sniper hood liked coffee. He was German, right? Europeans loved espresso. Maybe she could give it as a peace offering. A 'welcome to the team' type of thing. He had prevented her from eating shit after all. And even apologized for grabbing her.
It suddenly became incredibly important to Fox's sleep-addled mind to repay his kindness.
“You like espresso?” She tossed over her shoulder, sniper hood having backed up again.
“Espresso? Ja, I like. But you do not have to go out of your way…” He trailed off as she waved him over.
“No worries, man. You helped me out, it’s the least I could do.”
Sniper hood mumbled something in German, which Fox was going to assume was his undying gratitude, shooting a look towards the door, but obediently stuck around as she ground the beans and then packed them into the cup, sliding it back into the machine.
She fished around for some mugs, grabbing two of the bigger ones, placing one under the machine and hitting start. Even if sniper hood only wanted a shot of espresso, he would probably want a bigger mug so he could hold it more comfortably.
Mentally patting herself on the back for being so considerate, she slid the now espresso filled cup out from the machine and handed it to him. Sniper hood took it with a quiet, “Thank you.” And then proceeded to just stand there holding it while Fox cleaned out the basket and re-packed it with fresh grounds.
She slid her own mug into the machine, staring unseeingly at the wall as she waited for it to finish before mechanically repeating the process of tossing out the old ground and packing more in. Once her second shot was done as well, she started to assemble her sugary, caffeinated monstrosity. She added three pumps of caramel syrup, two shots of the creamer, and then poured coffee in until it was nearly to the top, mixing everything together. Then, she set it off to the side, and started cleaning everything up while waiting for it to cool, wiping down the counters, cleaning out the grinder and the espresso basket, and neatly tucking everything back against the wall. She debated leaving a note telling whoever had been moving the stuff to knock it off, but didn't have a pen and paper. Whatever, she could just check the cameras later. Or one of the others would find out who had been doing it. Fox had a feeling that poor fella was about to learn a very painful lesson on what happened when you messed with the coffee in a base full of mercenaries.
After double checking to make sure everything was clean, she picked her cup back up and then proceeded to chug about half of it in one go.
Coffee in hand and kitchen left clean behind her, Fox turned to head out, stopping short when she realized sniper hood was still here. He was still clutching his own cup, wide eyes staring at her with a mix of terror and sheer awe.
Fox, for lack of a better response, just tossed up a peace sign and shuffled out of the room, bumping into someone (something?) and muttering an apology out of habit before continuing on her way. She walked through the winding hallways in a haze, waiting for the caffeine to kick in and completely unaware of the massive shadow that followed her until she was safely back in her room.