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We won't be broken hypocrites forever: Aleks Marchant

Part 1 of 4 Word Count: 4578 Summary: After your last crew fell to pieces you became a gun for hire, an assassin for whomever had the fattest payday. Somehow, you find yourself taking a hit you never should have and face to face with a man you thought you’d forgotten. Warnings: Gun mentions, swearing.

The Fakes Syndicate were a well known, and feared, entity in the city of Los Santos. What had started as four friends pulling small cons almost twenty years ago had grown into branches of different groups all working together to run the city. The Fake AH Crew was run by Ramsey who had stayed when the other originals retired and stepped out of the game. They were the go-to group when it came to heists and getting funds. They were methodical when they needed to be and worked like a well oiled machine to get through their elaborate plans.

Fake Pine 7 were unpredictable and were the ones who were called in to set up deals. If your terms weren’t acceptable or didn’t meet their needs, they definitely made sure that you knew. However, it was Fake Chop that definitely put fear into people’s hearts. Explosions and manic laughter echoed in the streets late at night and come morning there was destruction as far as the eye could see.

You’d had to brush up on every detail you could on all of these groups to figure out how they operated and who ran what. You’d been doing this for a long time. When you first started you were in a little ragtag crew out on the East Coast near Liberty City but when things got out of hand you all had to go your separate ways. From then on, you had pretty much been on your own; flying under the radar you’d travel around the country pulling jobs wherever you could for whoever was paying the most.

Which is how you eventually landed yourself in Los Santos.

A Motorcycle club that you’d had a run in or two with back in Liberty City was operating a drug ring out in San Andreas in the arid Blaine County area got ahold of you with a proposition. The Fakes Syndicate was making their lives a living hell and they needed some help to get rid of the competition. They’d given you an upfront payment of $25,000 to take out an individual who was working with the FakeChop crew. You were only given a first name and a list of places he was known to frequent from time to time, along with a promise of an additional $25,000 when he had been taken care of.

Apparently, this Asher was the one who found out all of the Lost MC’s contacts and had gone out of his way to sabotage a large number of deals that they had set up. The Lost didn’t care how you did it, they just wanted the job done.

You had been in Los Santos county for a few days, trying to locate your target and find his patterns. It had taken some time but you’d managed to find where he lived and decided to make your move. Normally, you were methodical when it came to commiting your hits. You’d plan everything down to the very last detail to avoid suspicion and detection. However, the longer it took for you to find Asher the more often you’d receive calls from the leaders of The Lost on your burner phone demanding you to hurry up or there’d be hell to pay.

Honestly, you knew for a fact that a group of poorly organized, drugged up bikers wouldn’t really be much of a challenge for you, but you needed the rest of the money and were beginning to feel more than a little anxious the more time that you took. From where you sat in the front seat of a car you’d acquired a few days past, you could see the lights in the apartment that you were watching turn on. You took a steadying breath and reached over to your passenger seat to grab your pistol. You turned the hardware over in your hands and made sure you had your suppressor attached as well as extra ammunition. You definitely didn’t plan on going through with the hit in his apartment considering that there was the possibility of neighbors and strangers either hearing or someone seeing you enter or leave the building. But, you knew it was better to be safe than sorry.

After taking a steadying breath, you opened the car door and slipped out into the cool night air, tucking your gun into the back of your waistband. You flipped your jacket out to cover your back and you started to make your way across the street. You walked casually as you ran over details in your head. From the intel that you’d gathered, this Asher guy was not the most skilled when it came to using weapons but he seemed to be decent at close combat. You subconsciously ran a hand over the front of your your jacket, the feeling of your knife tucked inside calmed you slightly.

You half-jogged up the steps leading to the correct floor and made a quick glance of the area, not spotting anyone around. Silently, you approached the door and made a swift test of the door. You’d often been surprised at how many people just didn’t lock their front doors, especially those who were involved in less than savory activities. At finding the door to be locked, you reached into the pocket of your jeans and pulled out a lock picking set. Over the years you’d grown quite efficient at using it and you knew that you would be able to pop the door open in a matter of moments.

However, just as you crouched down and inserted the torsion wrench into place, you heard the telltale click of a pistol before feeling the barrel press against the back of your head. You swallowed hard and slowly lifted your hands away from the door to hold them out at your side. Hopefully, this was just an over enthusiastic neighborhood watcher and you would be able to sweet talk your way out of this situation.

“Y’know, I honestly thought that the illusive merry murderess would be a little harder to catch in the act,” a voice spoke calmly from behind you.

You ducked your head down slightly to stare at the ground in front of you, silently cursing yourself. You’d gotten too antsy and didn’t secure the area, trusting only your quick scan. The barrel pressed harder against your skull and you felt whoever it was behind you reach under the back of your jacket to remove your gun from your person. You gritted your teeth and glared down at the stupid welcome mat that you were knelt on, trying to figure a way out of this scenario with your brains still firmly inside of your head.

Slowly, you lifted your head to stare straight at the door in front of you as you attempted to calculate just how fast you would have to move in order to not only grab your knife, but open it, turn, and embed it into the person behind you, before they ever pulled the trigger. However, no matter how sharp your reflexes were, there was no way you could move faster than a bullet coming from a gun pressed to your head.

You took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, “Okay, look…”

“No, you don’t get to speak,” the man behind you said, “You do, however, get to come with me.”

Before you could process what it was he was saying, you felt the gun against your head move away and an arm wrap tightly around your neck. You gasped softly in surprise and both of your hands shot up to attempt to claw at the arm around your throat as it began to tighten. As your brain began to grow fuzzy and your vision started to darken around the edges, you tried to lower a hand down to the front of your jacket. Your fingers struggled and groped for the pocket on the inside and just as you felt then wrap around the cool metal of the knife handle, the man behind you yanked you backwards and your hand fell away just as your completely blacked out.

When you felt yourself coming to, the first sensation you were aware of was the dull throbbing inside of your head. Your face scrunched up as you tried to work through the blackness in your memory. Inhaling slowly, you attempted to move your body from the strange uncomfort you felt settling into your joints but found yourself to be bound to the chair you were sat in. With a low groan, you peeled open your eyes to see that you were in a dimly lit open room. You sighed and squinted as you tried to take in your surroundings.

“Welcome back to the land of the living,” a voice from your right said.

Your head snapped in the direction of the voice and could only vaguely make out the shape of a person in the shadows. “Where am I?” you asked, voice low and slightly rough. The person in the shadows chuckled lowly and you heard the soft click of a knife opening, the sound of which set your heart rate into overdrive. “You’re in the Slaughterhouse,” the voice said, and you recognized it as the voice from the man who had come up behind you outside of Asher’s apartment.

In your head, you ran through every piece of information you had about the Fakes until you realized what was happening. The Slaughterhouse was what FakeChop called their base of operations, it was where they ran through their plans and oftentimes took care of business. You swallowed hard and tried to squint through the dark at the figure. “How long am I staying in the Slaughterhouse?” you asked, pulling at the restraints around your wrists. You knew full well that more often than not, people who visit the Slaughterhouse did not leave in one piece.

There is another chuckle, “That’s not entirely up to me.”

“Who exactly is it up to, then?” you asked with a slight grunt, pulling on your other restraints.

You watched as the figure seemed to stand up from a chair and walk around you. As he moved you could catch glimpses of him other than the darkness but he was quick to move away again out of sight. “My associates can’t quite seem to come to a consensus on what to do with you,” he drawled, circling around you, “So, we’re waiting for them to finish deliberating.”

“So, you’re on babysitting duty,” you asked with a slight smirk.

There was a slightly disgruntled noise from the darkness and you chuckled lowly. You’d learned after a certain amount of time of being in your line of work that you could more often than not talk your way out of a situation. You tried not to make it a habit of being captured but in the few instances that you couldn’t help it, you had managed to distract your captors enough to find a way out.

Finally, the man from the shadows stepped forward into the dark. He had platinum blonde hair and wore a pair of black Ray Bans on his face. As you watched him walk closer, you narrowed your eyes at him in a studious sort of way. Something about this man was oddly familiar but you for the life of you, you couldn’t place why or how. “I appreciate your attempt to rile me up,” he said with a slight laugh, “It’ll make this whole waiting period more interesting.”

He pulled a chair closer and turned it around in front of you before straddling himself over it, laying his arms over the back of the chair. He stared in your general direction, but you were unsure if he was looking at you due to the dark lenses obscuring his eyes. “So, who sent you after Asher?” he asked, head tilting slightly to the side. You raised both of your eyebrows at him and smirked just little back at him.

“You can’t honestly think that I’d tell you that,” you shot back.

He shrugged his shoulders, “Worth a shot.”

Staring back at him, you tilted your head as you narrowed your eyes at him once more. There was something about the way that he carried himself and spoke that definitely struck you as familiar and it was beginning to nag at the back of your brain now that he was closer to you. “How much did they pay you?” he asked, reaching into his back pocket. He pulled out a pack of cigarettes and beat the bottom of the pack against the heel of his hand before opening it to pull one out. He stuck the cigarette between his lips and, in a flash, pulled out a lighter to hold the flame to the end of it.

“Enough,” was your only answer.

He breathed in deeply and slowly exhaled a breath of smoke into your face. Your nose scrunched up as the smoke hit you directly but you made no other sign of discomfort, which just made him smile and raise a single eyebrow over the top of his sunglasses. He leaned back slightly in his chair and slid the leather jacket that he was wearing off of his shoulders. Underneath he wore a white baseball shirt with black sleeves ending at just about the middle of his forearms.

It was then that everything seemed to click in your head.

On his right arm you could see brightly colored tattoos and from where you were seated you could see an all too familiar design featuring satellites and stars in space. Your eyes snapped up from his arm to his face and you assumed that he must have seen the shock present on your face because he was slowly raising his sunglasses to rest on the top of his head. That was when you were met with a pair of all too familiar brown eyes.

“Aleks?” you breathed, “Aleks Marchant?”

It was his turn to look surprised. He seemed to be taken aback and leaned further from you in his chair, watching you with suspicious eyes. There was a long stretch of silence as he continued to stare at you until, finally, a look of recognition broke out across his face. “Holy shit… Y/N?” he questioned, dropping his cigarette to the ground in disbelief.

Your head suddenly swam with memories of your first crew; a group of misfits who had gotten too big, too fast and quickly found themselves in over their heads. You remembered car chases, explosions, and gun fights all with Aleks by your side. The two of you had been younger then, not as jaded. You recalled laughing with your hand out the window of a speeding car that Aleks was driving, raining bullets down on those attempting to follow. Most of all, you remembered the nights after a successful heist, wrapped up with Aleks in his bed.

Two members of your crew got taken into custody after a mishap with a deal and they were quick to sing when the cops pressured them. Everyone else had to scatter fast in order to avoid being taken in as well. That night was the last you had seen Aleks, both of you meeting in a dark alley, cars packed haphazardly, and kissing goodbye with whispered promises. The last you had heard, Aleks had made his way out to Colorado and joined up with another crew there. That was the last bit of information you’d heard on his whereabouts and that was quite a few years ago.

The air suddenly felt thick and you struggled to collect your thoughts to keep yourself in the present. You hadn’t ever imagined you would see Aleks again, but here you were in a less than ideal situation face to face with a ghost from your past.

Before either of you could formulate a word, two men came around the corner with hard expressions on their faces. The first, a man with a baseball cap on and looked to be very well built, came to a stop beside Aleks. “Has she talked?” he asked in a low voice.

The question seemed to catch Aleks off guard as his only response was to mutter, “what?”

“Aleksandr,” another man scolded as he approached, “has she said anything?”

The presence of the second man seemed to jar Aleks from his thoughts, and he quickly pushed himself up from his chair. He removed his sunglasses from their spot on top of his head and ran his finger through his hair. “No, but-“ he started to say but he was promptly cut off by the first man pulling out a gun and aiming it between your eyes.

Aleks inhaled sharply and held his hands out as he got to his feet, “Brett, man, wait…”

“Wait for what?” Brett scoffed, cocking the gun, “She was sent to kill Asher and we all know her reputation. She’s the goddamn Merry Murderess, Aleks.”

“No, she’s not. I mean, she is but that’s not all. Put the gun away, dude,” Aleks all but pleaded, eyes wide.

The second man placed a hand on Aleks’ shoulder to draw his attention. “What are you talking about, Aleks? You’re not making any fucking sense,” he said, raising his eyebrows in a questioning manner. Aleks sighed and shook his head as he carded his fingers through his hair. He dropped his sunglasses to the chair in front of him and stared back at you.

“James, man. She’s… she’s Y/N,” he said softly.

While the revelation seemed to make sense to James and he looked back at you nearly flabbergasted, Brett only made an annoyed sound in the back of his throat. “What the hell is that supposed to mean, Aleks? What does it matter what her damn name is? She was going to kill Asher,” he grunted, gesturing at you with his gun. Aleks ignored Brett’s questions and rounded the chair in front of him to step in front of you and crouch down to your level. He locked eyes with you and for a moment it was as if you were both eighteen and fresh faced again.

“If we let you go, we’ll help you get out of your contract and you can join our crew. We can protect you,” he offered in a single breath.

From behind him, both Brett and James made very disgruntled noises in protest to his words. You let out a soft sigh and slowly shook your head as you blinked back at Aleks. “It’s not that easy, and you know it. For how much money that they’ve already paid me, it’s not a simple get out of a contract,” you said with a low, humorless chuckle, “It’s more of a kill or be killed thing at this point.”

“So we kill them, whoever the fuck they are. You act like that’s something we’ve never done before,” he argued, his expression growing slightly more deranged.

Brett’s grunt from behind him finally seemed to catch Aleks’ attention and he looked over his shoulder at the man to his right. “Aleks, what the actual fuck is going on? You can’t just offer to let go the fucking assassin who was hired to fucking murder Asher,” he said through gritted teeth. His hand tightened around the grip of the pistol in his hand and for a moment you were a little worried he would just pull the trigger to lose a bullet in your skull. Aleks very nearly snarled and stood up to his full height before turning around to fully face Brett.

“Look… we can kill her but we know they’ll find someone else to do the job, or we can use her to help us get rid of the assholes who put a hit on Asher,” Aleks explained, shrugging slightly.

James shook his head and rubbed at the back of his neck with a hand, “Aleks, dude, just tell him who she is.”

“Someone better fucking tell me something,” Brett said, his voice raising slightly with each word.

You let out a huff of a breath and tugged uselessly against your binds. “Look… Aleks and I used to run together in a crew back when we were kids on the East Coast. We were… together for a while,” you started, quickly glancing at Aleks before looking back at Brett, “Some shit went down and everyone pretty much fled to their own corners of the Earth. Hell, I haven’t seen him since the night we all ran off. Last I knew, he was in Colorado. But here we are, together again after I took a job to take care of one of your guys.”

There was an uncomfortable silence that settled over the four of you as Brett took in all that your had to say. After a few moments, he slowly lowered his gun and you could feel the tension that you didn’t know you that you were holding release from your shoulders. He locked eyes with you and for what felt like a goddamn lifetime, the two of you held one another’s gaze. “Untie her,” he muttered, motioning to James and then you.

Your eyes widened in surprise as James walked behind you and began cutting at the ropes the were holding you to your chair. Once your hands were free, you brought them in front of you and rubbed at the indents at your wrist to try and expedite the blood flow to your fingers. “Who sent you?” Brett asked, putting away his gun. You took a slow, deep breath and looked between Aleks and Brett before you shrugged a shoulder.

“The Lost MC,” you answered after a moment.

Brett cursed under his breath, “How much did they promise once the job was done?”

“Twenty-five,” you replied, licking your lips.

James finished cutting away at the ropes around your ankles and you let out a sigh of relief as you stretched your legs out in front of you. The telltale tingle of your appendages falling asleep ran up your legs from ankles to knees and you groaned lowly and you bent over to rub at the muscles there. When you looked up again, Aleks was holding out the gun that he had taken from you with an all too familiar smirk tugging at his lips.

“Let’s go get you your money.”

You took in gun in hand and quickly checked it over to make sure that it was in the same condition it was when Aleks had lifted it off of you. When everything checked out, you got to your feet and winced slightly as all of the blood began flowing once again. You looked up and locked eyes with Aleks who was watching you with a slight smirk ghosting over his features. Cocking a single eyebrow at him, you put your gun back in the waist of your pants.

“This is going to be more than a pistol job, dude,” you said, shaking your head, “There’s gonna be a whole lot of guys out there.”

Aleks smirked and slid his sunglasses back onto his face, “Oh, I’ve got you covered.”

He turned around and motioned for you to follow him but made no attempt to look behind to make sure that you were. You glanced at both Brett and James before hurrying off after Aleks who was leading you to a ladder on an inside wall which lead to the top of a small area. He climbed up without a word and you simply followed behind him, knowing it was easier to not question him. He made his way over to a few sizable trunks along a wall and knelt down to pull one of them open.

As you approached, you had to take in a breath of surprise. Within the trunk you could see quite a few grenades, explosives, and, other means of destruction. You crouched down next to Aleks and glanced over at him, letting out a low chuckle. “Still a pyro, I see,” you said, clearly amused. Aleks gave you a look and shook his head slightly as he began to pull out different explosives to stow into a bag he grabbed from beside the trunk.

“As impressed as I am with your collection here, I don’t know if just blowing the place the hell would be the most practical course of action,” you offered to him with a low chuckle.

Aleks only rolled his eyes and closed the trunk. He stood upright and shouldered the bag as he started to make his way back to the ladder. “I’ve got that taken care of too,” he answered as he turned and began to climb down. You followed behind him and found him back on the ground slipping into a room to your left as your feet touched the concrete floor. You sighed and shook your head as you followed his path into the room but stopped almost immediately upon entering.

“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph,” you whispered in astonishment.

Every wall in the room held a such wide array of weaponry that made in next to impossible to even see the wall behind them all. You had been proud of your little collection of faithful pieces that you toted around with you but it only paled in comparison to this treasure trove. The sound of Aleks’ laugh was the only thing to draw you out of your stupor. You blinked a few times and shook your head to clear away the fog before looking to the center of the room where Aleks was standing.

“What’s the plan?” Aleks held his arms out to gesture around the room, “Do we go into their compound guns blazing, taking out as many as we can, or do we try and be discrete?”

You raised a single eyebrow, “Aleks, since when has discrete ever been our style?”

His eyes crinkled around the edges and he let out a loud laugh as his left hand wrapped around his middle and his right hand went to his face. You started to slowly walk around the room to take a look at everything that was displayed, occasionally letting out impressed sounds as you passed certain guns. “Even if we don’t do this quietly, I don’t think just charging into the Lost’s base of operations would be the most prudent decision we’ve ever made,” you said, stopping to remove a special carbine rifle.

Aleks watched you carefully and raised his eyebrow curiously, “So, what do you want to do?”

“Get me something of Asher’s,” you said absently, turning the rifle over in your hands with a grin, “I’ll call them, tell them it’s done, and I want to meet for the exchange… then we fight our way out.”

Almost as quickly as he walked out of the room, Aleks walked back in carrying a jacket and a pair of sunglasses, which you almost didn’t notice as you were too busy pulling out some bulletproof vests. When you looked up at Aleks you couldn’t help but smile. Preparing for some stupid, incredibly reckless stunt brought back so many memories that you were beginning to feel giddy inside despite what it was you were getting ready to do.

You stood upright and chuckled as you took the items from Aleks, “Do you think Asher will mind if I shoot this full of holes?”

“We’ll buy him a new one,” he immediately answered.

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