Jennifer Morgan got out of Vought's grasp in the mid-90s and has been under the radar ever since, turning into a mercenary for hire to make ends meet. When Hughie Campbell and Billy Butcher break into her apartment and pitch to her the notion of kil...
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───── ❝ I've done things no young woman should do ❞ ─────
《☆》★《☆》★《☆》★《☆》★《☆》
Static filled her head. Something beeped rhythmically off to one side. Lights flickered overhead through her eyelids. When she forced her eyes open, it was immediately obvious that it was a hospital room she was laid up in. A clock on the far wall ticked with a monotony that made her skin crawl. From somewhere outside of her room, voices approached, so she let her eyes shut again and settled back into the flat, uncomfortable bed.
"- Looking promising, given the circumstances."
"I'll be the judge of that..." The door swung open and Jennifer tried to keep track of the stranger's position inside the room. Everything was amplified tenfold; her senses were far stronger than they had been. She could hear their pulses, the way one man had a slight, almost imperceptible lisp. the other one smelled of cigar smoke. Jen knew it was cigars and not cigarettes because she'd always noticed the same smell on her father.
Her father. What had happened to him during the crash?
"Lighten her sedation, keep observing. If she shows even the slightest implications of the V working, alert me immediately."
"Yes, sir." One set of footsteps retreated and the other stayed put—the scratch of a pen on paper grated on her nerves. Jennifer drew in a deep breath and opened her eyes. Immediately she was on her feet, the doctor in the white coat was now up against the wall by his coat collar.
"Who are you? Where am I?" The panic in his eyes fueled her aggression and she pushed harder, making the plaster behind him crack and crumble slightly.
"You're at Sage Grove. Lucky to be alive."
"Where are my parents?" A feral light in her eyes had him trembling under her hands.
"Where are they?!" she demanded, louder and more frantic.
"Dead! They were dead on the scene. I - I'm sorry -" The door swung open, and three armed guards hustled in, pulling her off the terrified doctor and pinning her to the bed, though Jen put up one Hell of a fight.
Her joints ached and cracked as she stretched out and sat up.
"Rise and shine, Jenny -"
"Fuck off," she yawned and pulled her hood up over her head. She watched everyone else move around her through bleary eyes, packing bags and taking stock of weapons for their road trip to snowy Russia.
"Everything alright, Jennifer?" Hughie extended a hand with a coffee to her, which she accepted with a loose-lipped smile.
"Peachy. You seen my bag anywhere?" She sipped experimentally at the cardboard cup as Hughie looked around for the bag in question. It slid across the floor with relative ease and with shaking fingers, Jen dug through it to find that orange bottle.
