Work Text:
The sun was setting over Stilwater, covering the streets with a beautiful, orange hue. They had survived another day.
The small team that was made up of around a dozen of Saints stationed in the heart of Brotherhood territory for the Boss’ barrios operation were on edge 24/7, worried about an attack by the red clad gang that could strike at any moment. They could never let their guard down, doing so would be fatal and jeopardize the mission.
The small lot that they had claimed after the deal with Maero fell through was lightly fortified using improvised cover such as cars and dumpsters. Nothing that would last long in a full on assault by their enemy’s superior numbers. Every now and then they would see a patrol pass by, but never initiate. They only drove by to observe and gather information. Any sign of weakness would likely lead to an attack.
Armed with pistols, submachine guns and shotguns, the handful of Saints took turns keeping watch. Now that it was dusk, they switched guards, waiting for the next shift to arrive before they would retire for the night, to assure there was no gap in their security.
But tonight would be especially difficult to hold their ground here. Normally, they received daily shipments of guns, ammunition, and supplies, but today, the shipment didn’t arrive. They had called the Boss about the delay. After several hours it had become clear that it wouldn't arrive, so they called their leader again, this time to inform her that the shipment was missing. The red haired woman assured them that she had people looking for the missing cargo, and that she couldn’t send a replacement at that moment, since their resources were limited.
The Brotherhood was suspected to be behind the lost delivery, which would mean that they knew the Saints were currently underserved.
When the night shift came out of the garage to relieve the current guards, the roaring engine of a large vehicle could be heard approaching.
The Saints knew that noise all too well, and prepared themselves for what was to come. They readied their guns, some of which barely had any ammo left in them, but they had to make do with what they had.
The sound drew closer, until it finally reached their location, crashing into one of the barriers they had set up. Metal creaked as the large truck sent the heavy dumpster flying across the lot, sparks flew as it scraped against the concrete. The massive headlights on top of the truck lit up the area, blinding some of the Saints.
When the red Compensator came to a screeching halt, the Saints trained their guns on the vehicle, but didn’t open fire yet.
Their small calibres might just bounce off the armored truck, and they couldn’t afford to waste a single bullet.
Two Brotherhood soldiers were standing in the back, but weren’t armed, so the Saints held their fire for now, perhaps they were only delivering a message or showed up here to scare them.
“Here, you can have that shit back!” The man yelled as he crouched down to grab something from the bed.
“We’ve had our fun but it got boring after a few hours,” the buff woman sneered, "so we figured we'd be so kind as to return him to you."
Before any of the Saints could get a word out, the rival gang members tossed a mangled body out of the bed, which landed on the concrete with a thud, staining the asphalt as a pool of blood began forming around him. His skin was missing in several places, exposing the red flesh underneath. The person whimpered softly, but didn’t even scream when hitting the ground.
“We’ll be keeping the guns though, thanks so much for your gracious donation,” the man laughed at them, making it clear that it had been them who had intercepted the shipment, then tortured the driver, and kept the goods being delivered.
“Get the fuck out of the barrio!” The woman roared at them, holding up a gold chain with a fleur-de-lis pendant hanging from it, which was covered in blood. It must have belonged to the Saint they had harrowed.
The truck immediately moved into gear after the message had been delivered. The group of purple wearing gangsters fired several shots at the retreating vehicle, but none of their shots managed to hit any of the passengers or tires. Once the Compensator was out of sight, they quickly turned their attention to the severely injured Saint on the ground.
It was a grisly sight, some of them couldn’t bear to look. They tried picking him up to bring him inside, but he let out an agonizing scream upon being touched.
Another Saint was yelling into his phone, “Boss, the Brotherhood is behind the missing shipment! Some of Maero's crew just rolled in and dropped off the delivery driver! He’s barely alive!”
They finally managed to get the injured man inside, leaving behind a trail of blood. They carefully put him on a sofa and provided what limited medical aid they could.
Several minutes later, more vehicles could be heard getting closer, but this time it wasn’t the ferociously loud engine from before, but a motorbike. Soon enough the Boss herself came speeding around the corner on her custom Estrada, her red hair waving in the wind behind her.
She was wearing her face mask, presumably to protect herself from the cold. She had two more cars in tow, a purple Hammerhead, and a white Bulldog.
The woman hopped off her bike and greeted the guards, “Where is he?”
“Inside,” one of them replied, pointing towards the garage.
The redhead sprinted past them into the building to meet with the tortured man.
Saint lieutenant Carlos Mendoza got out of his purple muscle car, accompanied by his friend, Katharina Jaeger, who had come here in her truck.
The blonde woman looked at all the blood on the ground, making her feel a little lightheaded, while Carlos loyally followed the Boss inside.
He found his leader kneeling next to a sofa, on which a disfigured and barely recognizable body was resting. She was holding his hand.
“Carlos, can you help him?” The woman asked without taking her eyes off the suffering man.
He got closer to look at the extent of the damages the Brotherhood had inflicted upon him, “I- I don’t think there’s much I can do.”
“Try your best,” she asked him as she got up and headed outside. Despite how hopeless it seemed, he couldn’t deny a request from her.
“Alright, give me some space,” he got to work.
They watched him clean the countless wounds on his body and apply bandages to him, but they got soaked with blood almost instantly.
“He’s losing too much blood too quickly,” Carlos stressed.
Kate entered the room, but wished she hadn’t when she saw the state the victim was in, “Jesus Christ…”
In the meantime, Velvet was back out on the lot talking to the Saints that witnessed what had happened, having them tell her exactly what occured to the tiniest detail. The Boss paid close attention to their words, making sure to remember the important pieces of information.
She now had a description of the Brotherhood members who dropped the man off, she knew what vehicle they had fled in, and in what direction they had gone.
“Boss…” Carlos’ voice called out from behind her.
She turned around to see him standing at the garage door, his hands and white tank top covered in blood. She didn’t even have to ask, his devastated face told it all.
“He didn’t make it,” he uttered.
Vivi went back inside to check on the situation. A group of mourning Saints had surrounded their recently deceased friend. Kate was not among them, she stood a bit off to the side, leaning against the wall. She couldn't stand the sight, chosing to distance herself a little.
The other Saints gave way when the Boss walked towards them, allowing her to get a better look at the body.
She looked at the corpse for a moment, “Take care of the body and funeral arrangements.”
“On it, Boss,” they did as they were told.
Her voice sounded cold and somber. The horned woman then turned towards Kate, “Katie, a word.”
The blonde woman followed her, unsure of what her leader wanted from her.
“I want you to continue the supply runs down here, we need capable drivers like you so that this sort of thing doesn’t happen again,” the redhead promoted the woman.
Kate, however, wasn’t so thrilled about the assignment, “After seeing what happened to the last guy, you seriously want to keep this going? This feels like a suicide run!”
“In a purple vehicle maybe, but not if you use your white truck and drive as well as you claim,” the Boss wasn’t up for discussions, “now, give me your gun.”
“My gun?” Kate retrieved the .44 Shepard from its holster, “What do you need mine for, don’t you have your own?”
“I need its unique properties,” Vivi took the revolver from her and turned around to leave without elaborating any further.
“Wait, where are you going?” The blonde called out, wondering what was going on, and if she’d get her gun back.
“I’m going hunting.”
The demoness slowly walked out of the lot, disappearing into the darkness of the night. A cold breeze blew through the streets, heralding the calamtiy that was about to be unleashed upon the Brotherhood.