When a group of female mercenaries known as "The Fates" have a run in with an unknown group, they get roped into something larger than they bargained for.
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LOCATION: LONDON, ENGLAND DATE AND TIME: MAY 5TH, 2019. 10:45 AM
"Clotho, you've got loverboy hot on your tail," Amanda told Martha through her earpiece, letting out a single chuckle. Martha could tell she was smiling, as it was quite comical. Martha and the blonde young man they had dubbed 'loverboy', have been playing a game of cat and mouse since the day she saved him. His team seemed to be really fixated on finding out who their group was, but Martha knew they'd hit a wall each and every time.
To everyone else in the world, the three women didn't exist. They were never alive in the first place, just lost souls roaming the Earth. For the small few that did know about them, they were known as the Fates. Atropos, the unspoken leader of the small group, a red headed Russian woman whose bark is just as strong as her bite. Lachesis, the undercover woman who could outdrive just about anyone, quiet, calm, collected. Lastly, there was Clotho, their eye in the sky, observing everything through the scope of a sniper rifle. The rooftop runner, a sharp shooter with a sharp tongue. Together these girls were unstoppable.
"He's going to compromise the mission," Katya spat, getting annoyed at the opposing team's persistence.
"Don't worry," Martha told them, slinging her rifle behind her back when she saw the man coming closer in her peripheral, "I'll lose him."
She took off running, letting out a laugh as she heard him grunt in frustration, "Don't think you can get away from me that easily, Spinner. You're in my turf now!" He shouted after her.
Martha, giggling once more, leapt to another rooftop, "Is that so, loverboy?"
"The sniper's heading west," he told his team through his earpiece, "I know these buildings like the back of my hand, love."
"You'll have to show me around some time," She winked over her shoulder before making her way down a fire escape.
"If you'd stop running and we figure out where you're intentions are, I just might," The blonde man stopped on the stairs above her, looking down.
"You might?" She laughed again while staring up at him, "Why isn't that a definite yes?"
"Depends on your intentions," he grinned.
"With you or Russia?"
"Both," he told her. Martha smirked, quickly climbing over the fire escape's railing and jumping down to the alley below.
"You'll have to wait and see, but trust me we're on the same side, babe," she began to run, but he wasn't far behind her.
"That bank robbery two weeks ago and the one the month before, is that what that was? Being on our side?" He asked her, hot on her heels.
"Not all of us have an unlimited supply of money, genius," She said, running into another alleyway, she could hear him muttering to his team their location. She saw the perfect opportunity, a fence, and kicked it into high gear, sprinting to it and scrambling up and over it.
"You know, they should really give you a gun," she told him as he came running up to the other side of the fence, "this chase would've been over a long time ago."
He sighed, breathing out heavily from his nose. As soon as he saw the car pull up behind her he knew the game was over, and she had won, again.
Martha reached into her jacket pocket, pulling out a tiny pistol with her hand on the barrel, holding it out for him to take. The two stood there for a moment, "Clotho come on."
"What are you doing?" He asked narrowing his eyes.
"Take it," she shook the gun, "I can't always swing by and save your ass," she smiled.
"Martha, I swear to god, what the hell are you doing?" Katya shouted, proceeding to curse her out in Russian.
"I could shoot you, you know that?" He said, grabbing the gun.
"You could," Martha smirked, "But I know you won't. You need to take care of yourself," she told him, turning and jogging towards the car, "I don't want anyone else hurting you, but me," she laughed before hopping in the car.
When she got in the car she was met with a slap to the head, "What the hell was that, huh? You trying to get us killed?" Katya yelled, "Stupid, girl. Do I have to remind you of the rules?"
"No matter how sweet I found that to be, I agree with Katya on this one," Amanda said, trying to lay low and blend in with the other cars, "Rule number two-"
"No getting attached," everyone said at the same time.
"I know," Martha sighed, "I'm sorry, it won't happen again."
"You're lucky I got one before you pulled that shit," Katya said, holding up an envelope. The invitation for the Royal Ball, everyone who was important in European government was invited. That meant the Russian prime minister- who had ties to the Russian mafia, would be there. That would be the perfect time to get rid of him.
"And just because of that, you're doing the undercover work," Katya told Martha.
"Woah, wait," Martha gasped, "you know I'm terrible at it!"
"I can't trust you on the rooftops anymore," Katya told her, "So you better get good, you have a month."
"Don't worry," Amanda shook her head, "I'll be going undercover with you, Jesus, Katya don't scare her like that," she sighed, turning up the radio.
The White Stripes filled the car as they pulled up to the stoplight, Martha looked out her window and her heart dropped. "Shit, drive. Amanda, drive."
"We're supposed to be blending in, what do you mean?" Amanda turned confused, coming face to face with the other teams leader, in the car right next to them. He gave a small wave.
"Fucking, go!" Martha shouted, grabbing the pistol from the glovebox and shooting at the other car as Amanda sped off, dodging oncoming traffic to the best of her ability.
Martha looked up to the roofs above them, and there he was, loverboy, giving away their position.
"Tourist locations? We can ditch the car and escape on foot," Amanda suggested.
"If that's what you think will work, then punch it," Katya yelled.
Amanda took a hard left, making everyone jerk to the right side of the car, "I swear to god, the next time I see that boy I won't be as nice as you," Katya furrowed her brow before checking the bullets in her gun.
Martha glared at Katya before glancing up at the boy on the rooftops, "I should've shot him in the foot first."
