//𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 (Lee Christmas x Reader)

three.

Barney expected everyone to meet at Tool's at breakfast. He had all the intel he needed for the next job and he wanted to get it started and finished before the next month was up.

You and Lee showed up together, last. This wasn't an uncommon occurrence now, so much so that the rest of the guys didn't even bat an eye at the way Lee's hand lingered on your waist in the doorway, or the way he watch you cross the room with a gentle smile pulling at his lips. Barney just rolled his eyes and shook his head. Tool chuckled to himself, lost in a daze, bent over a tattoo design he definitely cared more about than whatever else was going on.

"Morning," you said, ruffling Gunner's hair as you moved by him. He jumped, still half-asleep. He hated early morning calls. He grunted in response but didn't move.

Caesar had a small cup of coffee made and slowly cooling in front of him, his special blade held firmly in one hand while the other rested behind his neck.

"How's that gut?" Barney asked, motioning to Lee.

He shrugged and pulled up a chair. "Had worse."

"Alright then," Barney said, slapping the files down on the table. Everybody reached out and plucked one for themselves, skimming through the pages with mostly bored faces. Toll was a bit more precious with his reading, but that was just his way.

"Shit," you muttered, furrowing your brows as you read the file. A small time militant group was functioning around the Kalahari Desert. They were particularly ruthless in their endeavors, slaughtering people to prove their point; some of the photos in the file showed examples of their handiwork. They were growing in numbers, and had recently acquired hostages of the American variety. They weren't political or government hostages, but they did want a ransom- a ransom that the families could not afford to deliver on. The next best step was, of course, Barney Ross. He didn't ask for as much as the militant group did. You flipped over a page in the file and viscerally cringed, seeing the heads laid out on pikes in the searing desert sun. You had to cover the image.

"They call themselves the Yena Tribe," Barney continued, flipping through the photos without a second thought. "They want to overtake the area by any means necessary. We're not going there to play politics. We're going there to get the hostages and get out."

"Yena?" Lee asked, thumbing through the photos.

"Means Hyena," Gunner grumbled, looking down at the gory mess in his own file, "was a god, I think, in Ethiopia. Enemy of man."

You raised a brow at Gunner but just shrugged, tapping your fingers along the file.

"You expect this to be fast?" You asked, looking up at Barney.

"If we play our cards right," he said. "Do a little bit of recon when we get there. I've got a contact in the area, local wildlife guy, who'll help us with the cover story. This group has been scaring people away for a little while now. They recruit like any terrorist group would."

"Hm," you said, sitting back, running through it in your mind. "How'd these Americans end up with them?"

"Big game hunting," Caesar said, reading from one of the pages. "Imagine taking down a goddamn elephant. What the hell would you even-"

"It doesn't matter," Barney said, bracing himself against the table. "The job is the job. Are we in it?"

You nodded. Everybody around the table nodded. Nobody ever really said no to a job, but this time, you thought about it. You didn't particularly like the desert, and that feeling in your gut was still there and weighing on you. But you said yes anyway, looking down at the closed file in front of you. At least it wasn't fucking Russia.