gunsforhire | Log: sacrifice

Entry tags:

Log: sacrifice

Who: Oquirrh and Agent Florida
What: exchanging information for the life of a friend
Where: Oquirrh's safehouse
When: Friday morning
Warnings: language and possible violence

She only makes the call once she's in the safehouse by herself. Abby has hopefully found another spot for the night. It could be disastrous if she walked in on this.

She waits, curled up on the couch with her knitting and her mother's blanket. Not the yarn he bought for her. Yellow socks, with the yarn Wash bought her. She had hoped to give them to him when she finished. Now, she doesn't know if she'll ever see him again.

There's no way she walks away from this. Oquirrh knows it. Even if Florida lets her live, Control will hunt her down for her betrayal. She's okay with that. ...well, she's not, but there's no other way.

Louisiana deserves to be saved. She sold her soul to Charon once. Now Oquirrh will lose her own to get it back.

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Chances are this is a trap. Chances are she's the second blow of the day. The death Control wants of him.

He goes anyway. He goes because maybe he can save Lou. He goes because maybe he can spare her. He goes because he owes her the chance.

That doesn't, though, mean that he goes unprepared. He loads up his gear and even a good selection of heavier weapons.

And when he gets to the door, he even knocks.

The knock at the door makes her jump. At least he did knock this time, she thinks. Setting her blanket and her knitting aside, she forces herself to go to the front door and engage the airlock.

She's completely unarmed. Her helmet is locked away in the bedroom because she's paranoid it might be bugged. If he wants to kill her, this is it.

And yet when the airlock opens, she manages to say "Come in" with a voice that is completely steady.

Florida steps in cautiously, a hand hovering over the pistol at his side. He switches the helmet over to heat and infrared modes and, satisfied that there is no one else, he takes off his helmet.

"You must understand," he says slowly, "there is only one thing in this world that is more important to me than Mija. And anything that would hurt her I will destroy. Even you."

"I understand," she says. She doesn't bother to point out that hurting her would hurt Louisiana, too. That's not the point. It's the opposite of the point, in fact, because the point is that she doesn't matter. Only Louisiana.

"I want Control to stop hurting her. That's why I called."

She turns to walk into the living room. Showing him her back is the most terrifying thing she has done in recent memory, but she manages.

"You have no clue what they can do," Florida answers. "They... know who killed her father."

Which is worse.

Oquirrh nods. "They find out where you're weak and they lure you into a contract that you can never get out of," she says. "That's how they got her."

She wraps her arms around her waist because no, she is not going to touch her shoulder again.

"And you're right. I don't know what they can do. But I do have a vague idea what you can do.

"I have the contact information of dozens of Control spies and lesser mercenaries here in Gulch. I doubt it's all of them. But I will give them to you, if you want them. All I ask is freedom for Louisiana and a clean slate for Jersey."

"She won't leave," Florida says in frustration. "There is nothing Control can offer her that I can't beyond you and Jersey."

Fuck Jersey. But if that gets his girl safe, he'll figure something out. He's good enough, has enough of a reputation. Florida could set the trio up as a team in their own regards, subcontracted to the Captain.

"Give me a way to get her free.:"

"She can't," Oquirrh says. "They own us, Florida. If she leaves, there's nothing left to protect you. If she breaks her contract, there's no family clause left. If Louisiana tries to break away from Control? That protection is gone. Jersey went to your base tonight under orders not to hurt anyone. If she tries to leave, Control will go after you, everyone in that base, and everyone associated with it."

She shakes her head. "She stays with Control because she doesn't have a choice. You might be able to get her one. If you agree to those terms, I'll give you everything I know."

"He almost killed the Thief!" Florida shouts angrily. This is different. This isn't...

"If I leave her with them, they'll use me to destroy her. Or vice versa."

She flinches away. "I know," she says. "You think I don't, but--I'm dating Agent Washington." The words spill out of her. She blushes but it's too late to take them back. "So I'm not asking for clemency for him. Just a third chance. For Louisiana's sake."

"Wash might not be happy that your friend tried to strange his best friend to death," Florida answers.

But he sits down. He can't scare her, with what she's doing. "I'll do my best. To protect her and you."

"Exactly," she says. "I--I'm going to talk to him. Tomorrow, if he still wants to have dinner with me." She takes a deep breath because the thought terrifies her. "I haven't told him who I work for. He deserves to know, you know? And if he chooses to end things, then. . . then that's his right."

It's as good a promise as she'll get. "You don't have to worry about me," she says. She strides past him, both to get the information he needs and to have an excuse not to look at him when she says, "I'm a pretty lousy information specialist. I'm just trying to be a good friend."

"You're a good friend," Florida answers. "But I... don't know what to do with this."

Doesn't know in the slightest what he'll do with it.

"I don't either," she admits. "Take them out? Cripple Control's presence in Gulch? It's up to you."

She reaches the kitchen counter and the knitting bag she stashed there. Peeking out of the main pocket is her old datapad, the one she has had since Sidewinder. "This holds all of my knitting patterns," she says. "From one crafter to another. But if you hold this button and type in the password, it has all my data on Control contacts in the city." She demonstrates for him. "The password is 'Cierra,' with a C."

Florida takes it, frowning.

"I'll do my best. But she won't listen to me, Oquirrh."

Not now. Not after he...

"I'm the weight they hold over her."

"She's afraid to listen," she says. "Listening means caring, and if she listens to you, they can use you against her."

She stops. "That's not what you mean by weight, though, is it?" She shakes her head. "She doesn't care about that anymore. She gave up her revenge a long time ago. Now it's the contract that weighs her down, really."

"Can--can I work with you to help break her free of it? She might listen to me. I promise to do what I can."

"You know about her father then?" Florida asks quietly. No. He doesn't want to know. So he shakes his head.

"I want your help. I need it. Give me that, and I'll give you whatever you need."

She does know, and the weight of what he has just told her just. . . hasn't hit her yet. She's running on two hours of sleep and the adrenaline of the moment.

"You have it," she says. "Whenever you need it. That's my job, no matter who I work for." She somehow manages to make that last sentence somewhat light-hearted. "Tell me what to do and when, and I'll be there!"

"I need you to talk to her. She... doesn't want to hear from me," Florida answers. "You need to tell her... you're done with Control. And you need her and Jersey at your side if you're to survive."

The demand strikes low in her stomach, and for a moment, Oquirrh is afraid she's going to be sick.

"Jersey won't go," she says. "He's more loyal than we are. Without us, he'll be recalled to Armonia. But L?" She takes a deep breath, bracing against the nausea. "I'll tell her."

"I'll watch out for you," Florida promises. "I swear it."

"Really?" she asks. The nausea eases some. She wants to say that she doesn't need it, that she isn't worth it, but what she says instead is "Thank you."

"Unlike me, you're not a bad person," Florida assures her. "And the trouble you got in with me is entirely because of Control. If it wasn't for them I would have offered you a job."

"I would take it," she says. "I could have a life here. A good one. But they won't let me."

Hear him say as much warms her. It's certainy more validating than their previous meeting.

"I won't let them keep it from you," Florida answers. "Especially if you make sure flails-a-lot smile."

It's nice, seeing the level of domestic he and his team are getting toward. He never would have thought it.

"Wait, who? Oh. Wash." She covers her mouth to keep a giggle from escaping. It doesn't work. "I've promised him not to talk about work. I guess this all changes things, doesn't it? I'll still avoid the base or talking about it. For safety's sake. Unless he wanted to kidnap and blindfold me and steal me away. I might be okay with that."

She has said too much. Her blush deepens. "Thanks," she says, "for not assuming that I'm trying to steal Recovery."

"AS if you could," Florida laughs. "Where York is, Wash is. They're good friends. But suggesting he kidnap you is good."

He thinks he could like her.

"You know, that wasn't the case when York stole my wallet," she says. "Though I should have been suspicious that he left Wash's number for me. I haven't told him that idea yet though. I--it didn't feel right, suggesting it when I am--well, was--on the other side."

"Is York all right? I heard what happened."

"He's having trouble breathing," Florida answers quietly. Things weren't good.

But yes, she is on the other side, and he doesn't want to deal with that.

She winces and presses her eyes closed. "This needs to stop," she whispers. Violence happens in the mercenary world, but this recent attack is Control's fault.

She seems... dependable. Trustworthy. Good.

"Control is going too far. They tried to kidnap me. They would have killed me without Lou."

"Yeah. . . I know," she admits. "I'm supposed to spy on you two for them. I'm really terrible at it."

She shakes her head. "We aren't people to them. We're tools. We can't have lives or relationships or even friends outside of our teams, for fear that we'll want to leave the organization. It's despicable. They find us when we're hurt and they force us into contracts that they will never let us out of."

"Together we can get you free," Florida promises. Things that are, well, no better than slavery, piss him off.

"Talk to Maine. He'd help you too."

"Louisiana first," she tells him. "Maine is another member of your team, right?"

She's still getting to know all these people. How Louisiana could tolerate being told to treat them like enemies, Oquirrh will never understand.

"Maine is, effectively, her brother," Florida answers. "And trust me, anything that even SOUNDS of slavery will get him on your side."

"We'll probably need all the help we can get," she admits. "I don't know how I would meet him, though."

"I'll make sure of it," Florida decides. "You... you should come and meet our team."

"Are you sure?" she asks. "I mean, I would love to meet them, if there's a way to do it that's safe."

"Soon," Florida promises. "I'm going to do this for you, Oquirrh. Because doing this for you is doing it for her."

"I can't argue with that," she says. "I'll talk to Wash. Make sure he's--make sure he thinks it's worth all this. And I'll stay in touch. I can send you copies of my previous reports and get a clean helmet."

"If you need help, I know someone who can set you up."

"That would be great," she admits. "As long as it's cheap. I wouldn't put it past Control to be monitoring my savings."

The money she had saved up to leave this planet. Something that she--well, she isn't sure she wants to do anymore.

"I'll see you have a helmet. It will be delivered here," Florida informs her. "Pick a color and a style."

Oquirrh blinks. "You're sure?" she asks. "You're serious?"

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Log: sacrifice

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