Number 06 │ A Leverage Fanfiction

The Beantown Bailout Job │Part 1

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"You're late," came Nineteen's voice, sharp and familiar on the other end of the line.

"What?" I blurted, caught completely off guard.

A soft laugh followed, warm and amused. "Yeah, we took out the bastards like a month ago. You're late, buddy."

I froze, my mind racing. A month? It was already over? they didn't need me after all.

"You serious?" I managed to say, though my voice cracked slightly.

"Dead serious," Nineteen replied, her tone teasing. "But hey, if you still wanna swing by, we can call the others over. Make a whole thing out of it. A reunion."

Her words hung in the air for a moment. My lips twitched into a smile, the weight in my chest easing just a little.

"Yeah..." I said, the tension slipping from my shoulders. "I'd like that."

"Cool," she said brightly, "I'll text you the Base's new coords. Don't keep us waiting this time."

"See ya," I replied softly, but she was already gone, the call ending with a soft beep.

For a second, I just sat there, letting the sound of her voice linger in my mind. Then I pocketed the phone, took one last drag of my cigarette, and flicked it away. The engine of my bike roared to life beneath me, the vibrations thrumming through my body.

I revved it once, twice, then sped into the night, the wind whipping past me as the road opened up ahead.

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Laughter rippled through the compound, filling the air with warmth. Two was in the middle of one of his infamous stories, his hands flying wildly as he animated every detail.

"And I swear to you," he said, eyes wide, "he deadass dropped to the ground and yelled, 'Please! I have the goat!'"

The room erupted, everyone doubling over in laughter. Tears streamed down my face as I clutched my stomach, struggling to catch my breath. Around me, the others were the same—Nineteen wiping at her eyes, Four nearly tipping her chair over, and Twenty-One slapping the table as if that would stop the ache from laughing so hard.

For a moment, I just sat back and let the scene wash over me. Nineteen, Two, Four, Twenty-One, Eleven, Sixteen, Thirty-Five, Twelve—all of us. Happy. Content. Alive. Laughter echoed through the room, a sound that had once felt impossible. For the first time in what felt like forever, we weren't looking over our shoulders or bracing for the next thing to go wrong. We were just... here. Together.

From the start of the Program, there had been a hundred of us. Now, all that was left was us nine. Nine survivors from the program, the experiments, the missions, and the losses. The weight of it all—the years of pain, of fighting for & against the Program, of watching friends and comrades fall one by one—felt lighter somehow in this moment. Not gone, but no longer suffocating.

They'd done it. The fight was over.

And...I had nothing to do with any of it. Which kinda makes one feel like shit doesn't it? But hey, we're free.

I raised my beer, taking a slow sip, savoring the moment. "Now that everything's over," I said, my voice cutting through the laughter, "what are you guys gonna do?"

Twenty leaned back in his chair, his face thoughtful. "We're gonna continue the work," he said firmly, glancing around the table. "This time, the mission is for the greater good. No more orders from corrupt organizations. No more manipulation. Just... helping and protecting people. Using what we've got to make things right."