Deckard

24.

Let Bygones be Bygones

"Hello, sexy," Megan purred as she walked up into the grand mansion in Russia. The sounds of gunfire and people screaming as they were being tortured were music to her ears.

The beautiful woman in front of her dressed in leather with multiple weapons strapped to her legs as they met in the grand entrance was slightly taken aback by the small, unusual, group before her.

"Password," she smirked.

Both woman stepping closer to one another and connecting their plump lips in a heated kiss.

Hobbs gawking and casting his head back and forth between the two women making out in front of him and the smirking face of Deckard. Deckard having know what was to come. But to his sister and her new fancy man it was a bit of a shock.

The intensity. The familiarity of lips against lips. Lipstick still in place as they pulled apart. Wicked grins on both the women's faces as they took in the appearance of the other.

"Lovely to see you, Margarita," Megan purred as she takes a step back and follows her inside. Deckard striding up to beside his wife and taking her hand as they move further inside the Russian mansion.

Megan's heeled boots tapping on the floor as she moved elegantly along. Having changed from the skirt into jeans and a warmer coat for a more weather-appropriate outfit. At least she wouldn't feel the cold now that Deckard had wrapped his tartan scarf around her neck when they had exited the car a few moments ago.

"I got your list," Margarita called over her shoulder, "Its... long." She said unamused as she rolled the long strip of paper up in her hands. Leading the group through the chaotic mansion. Multiple bodies hung from the ceiling and pillars as her lackeys broke fingers and suffocated those idiotic enough to stand in their way.

"It's what you get for ignoring my husbands' texts," Megan's red-painted lips crawling into a devilish smirk as she lets go of Deckard's hand and brushes past the thief.

"Well give me more than three hours notice and I won't have to resort to such extremes," Madam M huffed back as she strutted after the tall woman. Motioning with a pointed finger to the blood and crying men around them; Megan noticing how one unfortunate man was swinging from the atrocious chandelier by his ears.

"Gosh, your ass must be really jealous of all the shit that comes out of your mouth," Megan called over her shoulder as she strode further into the open planned room.

Margarita making a nose of agreement as they collectively moved into another room. A smart table in front of them and stores of weapons and gadgets straw across every surface.

Deckard smiling slightly at the joyous twitch in Megan's face at the advanced technology. This was her expertise; he loved to watch her work.

Tapping the surface of the sensitive table, Madam M began pulling up the blueprints for the building they would be ambushing. All of them noticing the heavy security and the advanced structure that would be almost impossible to get in un-noticed.

Almost.

"Eteon," Margarita raising a perfectly plucked eyebrow at the group. The neutral mask that Megan now wore was infuriating to the woman. She knew that this was a death sentence and she might as well be giving the children the keys to the car. She was sending them to their death. "You couldn't have picked a harder place to get into,"

Yet the face emotionless face Megan had given the other woman a small amount of confidence. Whenever Megan put her mind to something, she usually demolished any obstacle in her way to get it.

"We're looking for a C-17 viral extraction machine," Megan said. Her eyes scanning and analysing the detailed diagram before them. She could feel the stares of Hobbs and Hattie itching against her face as they watched her work. Her mind flashing full of possibilities and strategies.

"That facility is three square miles of research labs, it could be anywhere," Hattie disputed. Still entranced by the way Megan was moving the screen around in front of them, she was onto something and they all knew it.

Hobbs opened his mouth, ignoring the raven-haired woman beside him as she removed the scarf from around her neck, "Yeah, and it's a powder keg packed with ammunition,"

"We've got to pull a Mick Jagger," Hattie smiles at her brother.

"Really?" Megan huffed as she looked between the two siblings that seemed to have a gleam in their eye, "That's a pretty shít name and who the fúck says you're going on the inside?-"

"-No," Deckard puts his foot down, "No way in hell are either of you going inside,"

"- You're not my mother, I'm going in whether you like it or not sweet cheeks," Megan argued as she patted Deckard's cheek. He quickly swiped her hand away as he glared daggers at her. She knew exactly what he was thinking. The risk was too great and she's still recovering from the last job they pulled with Hobbs. He didn't care what it would do to their relationship, but he would sideline Megan and keep her there. She was too much to him.

"We'll talk about this later," he ground through his teeth. Megan rating an amused eyebrow as she crossed her arms across her chest and shared a knowing look with both Hattie and Margarita.

"Okay," she agreed. The calm manner that she replied with had Deckard going cold. He knew right there that she would do anything in her power to make sure she was on this job, regardless of what he did to stop her.

Hattie quickly jumped in to avoid the explosion she knew Deckard was about to give. She could see his balding head-turning red at just how infuriating his wife was being,

"We need an inside man. They need to use the extraction machine so they'll take me right to it. I can do it," She gave a knowing look to her sibling and his wife, "We can do it,"

Deckard knew he wasn't winning this fight and so he let finally lat the women have what they wanted, "So now the only question is how do we ring Eteons dinner bell,"

"Oh I can handle that part," Margarita smirked before meeting Megan's eyes, "But first, let's get you geared up,"

Megan ignoring Deckard as she strides after the Russain mobster. A small skip in her step barely noticeable to anyone not looking carefully at the thought of the gadgets and knives she could get her hands on.

"These are your halo parachutes," Margarita begins. Megan stopping in her tracks and the small smile fading instantly from her face,

"Parachutes? Are you having a fúcking joke, Sunshine," The scowl she was sending the mobster had her nearly regretting ever agreeing to this task. Deckard gently stroking Megan's elbow as he moved past her, the emotional woman snatching her arm away as if his touch burned her.

"Earbuds for encrypted communication," Megan catching these with a smile at the thought of getting to the real stuff now. Stuff the fúcking parachutes.

"Scorpion Evo-3 with optical sights,"

"Come to mama," Megan smirked as she snatched the heavily loaded gun away from Deckard's fingertips. The scowl he sent her was ignored as she assessed the calibration and practicality of the weapon.

"Ultra-thin, bullet resistant, kevlar, infrared cameras for seeing through walls. Last but not least-"

"Compact hydrogen detonators," Megan whispered as she threw the gun against Hobbs broad chest and snatched the detonator from the bruised fingers of Margarita. "I've been trying to get my hands on these babies for a while now," she awed as she ran her hands over the smooth surface of the explosive.

"Put it in the right spot, it'll blow the place sky high,"

Hobbs eventually had his kevlar strapped around his pecs, hitting them for effect as he turned to his balding friend, "How do I look?"

"Like, it's a little tight," Deckard wasn't even kidding as he teased. These suits were made for people who had leaner, more efficient muscles that the walking boulder that was trying to squeeze into them.