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໒꒰ྀི'🐍‧｡⋆

[ enlisted ]

𝐓𝐨 𝐩𝐮𝐭 𝐢𝐭 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐥𝐲, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐝. Just as Griggs had said, why would the government be employing you to go on some mission for their national security visors? Surely this would be suicide. 

You sighed, almost getting comfortable in the wheelchair as they pushed you pas the numerous tents, overhanging's and trucks of the military. 

Yeah. This was getting weird.

With a confused squint of your brows, you heard an uncanny growl to your right and although it was painful, you turned your head to the side, eyes widening at the sight of-

"Killer Croc?" you questioned. 

Your voice had found its way into his slotted ears and although he was growling, he offered a curt nod in greeting. You and the crocodile go way back, having been some of the most notorious villains that stemmed from animalistic tendencies. Something to bond over.

You took note of the three other people strapped to a wheelchair like yourself, but hadn't enough time to actually see who they were when an ensemble of men came forward.

"Alpha, Bravo team, on me."

Him. Rick Flag.

That colonel prick from the demonstration. Standing high and mighty, somehow pretentious in the fact that he was Waller's shadow. 

"What the hell, Flag?" you heard the man at his side mutter as he stared at Croc, before his eyes flitted to you. 

Although you were restrained and incredibly exhausted, you still managed a sultry smirk which caused him to clear his throat and glance away. 

"Unlock 'em," Flag ordered with a scowl.

You glared at the approaching man as he bent down in front of you, releasing the leather straps containing your hands and legs. You were almost compelled to kick him straight in the face but you controlled yourself. First impressions are necessary. 

You stood up, cracking the sores in your back as your gaze landed on the only woman. 

"Harley fucking Quinn," you murmured in disbelief, smiling slightly when she turned around and let out an ear-splitting gasp, before squealing like she had just won a prize big as she rushed towards you.

"My main town clown!" she giggled as she fell into your arms, her grip deathly tight around your neck although you shrugged it off, knowing she had quite an aggressive approach of affection. "Hi, boys! Harley Quinn. How do you do?" the woman greeted with a wave.

You hated the way the soldiers stared at you and the others, all with cold eyes and barely-hidden sneers. Sighing, you thumped your feet against the ground, a bored hum escaping your lips which caused Rick to look over at you. You were able to get a look at the other two present; Deadshot, an infamous hitman and another you didn't quite recognized. You liked the tattoos though.

"You got some explaining to do," you stated, drawing your attention back to Flag.

His eyebrows raised as he scoffed, "Do I?"

"Oh, hell yea-."

"Huh?" Harley suddenly spoke up, everyone's attention snapping to her. "What was that? I should kill everyone and escape?" A smile painted her lips as she apologized, "Sorry. It's the voices. I'm kidding! Jeez!" Harley chuckled with a pointed grin. "That's not what they really said."

"What do we got here?" Flag started, walking past you and the others to the three soldiers who had just entered the grounds. They were carrying a large, dirty bag and you cocked your head to the side at the sight of it moving. "Twelve pounds of shit in a 10-pound sack." Leaning down, he reached into his belt and pulled out a knife, using the weapon to slice open the bag. "Welcome to the party, Captain Boomerang."

A man wrenched himself out of the bag and you watched in mild amusement as he abruptly sent a punch at one of the soldiers before he was detained. 

"Hey, hey, hey, what's going on, man?" he questioned as he was held back against one of the cars. 

"Calm down," Flag ordered.

"Hey, one minute I'm playing Mahjong with me nanna, then this red streak hits me outta nowhere."

"Shut up! You were caught robbing a diamond exchange."

"I was not!" he frowned, sounding completely offended.

Sighing, Rick leaned back, allowing the thief to move to where you and the others stood. He smirked in greeting and you rolled your eyes, turning away slightly as he deflated with a sulk.

A black car suddenly peeled into the lot as the colonel spoke, "Here comes Slipknot, the man who can climb anything. Wonderful."

The passenger seat door was opened by a woman, and a man clad in black stepped out. "Have a good time, scumbag," she spat.

He suddenly punched her square in the face and as she grunted, there were a series of hissed mewling from yourself and the rest of the company.

"Straighten up!"

"She had a mouth," Slipknot tried to justify, Harley cackling in return.

"Listen up!" Flag called, urging your attention towards him. "In your necks, the injection you got, it's a nanite explosive. It's the size of a rice grain, but it's as powerful as a hand grenade. You disobey me, you die." Killer Croc growled as your nostrils flared in annoyance. "You try to escape, you die. You otherwise irritate or vex me, and guess what?"

"Oh, oh, let me guess!" You mocked enthusiasm as you raised your hand, Rick turning his icy cold stare onto your form. "We die?"

Harley giggled, twirling a piece of her hair as Boomerang huffed out a laugh through his nose.

"I'm known to be quite vexing. I'm just forewarning you."

"Lady, shut up!" Flag exclaimed, causing Harley's smile to drop, as did her arm. "This is the deal. You're going somewhere very bad, to do something that'll get you killed. But until that happens, you're my problem."

"Mmm," Deadshot hummed with a nod. "So was that like a, uh, pep talk?"

"Yeah. That was a pep talk," Rick confirmed with pursed lips before pointing to the side. "There's your shit. Grab what you need for a fight. We're wheels up in ten."

As he turned to leave, the hitman spoke, "You might wanna work on your team motivation thing. You heard of Phil Jackson?"

"Yeah."

"He's like the gold standard, okay? Triangle, bitch. Study."

You were beginning to feel the irritation creeping up your throat so you grabbed Harley by the hand, dragging her to the black boxes which had allocated painted initials for each. Harley had H.Q written with a crown over the second letter, whilst yours was a single V with two fangs hanging off of the sides of the letter.

She screamed in delight when she opened it, revealing her black and red playsuit, holding it up to her body for measure.

You grinned when you saw the arrangement of both clothes, weapons and general trinkets used in the name of the Viper, holding up your twin set of sleek black pistols. 

Drawing out of the bullets, you clicked them open, revealing the empty hatchet. Holding it up to one of your fangs, you made quick work of filling them up with your venom. They were custom made to adhere to your poison, opting for both the pain of a bullet wound and the instantaneous death of your biological toxin. 

As for your clothing choice, you always did try to blend in with your outfit options, given that most of the time, your missions happened throughout the day. So, you pulled out a simple pair of dark washed jeans, tightened with a thick brown belt and a cargo buttoned shirt.

Turning around, you had no shame as you took off your prison garb, thankful to take off the clothes that only got washed once every three weeks. Fastening the jeans and tightening a leg strap over your thigh where you placed one of the venom-instilled guns, you locked eyes with Colonel Rick Flag. 

He was stationed by one of the cars, surrounded by his group and was listening intently to one of his men. Trying to listen. Flag watched as you peeled the orange shirt off, revealing a simple grey bra and the thin vined tattoo that stemmed from the center of your breasts and finished at your belly button. 

With a smile, you chuckled as he swiftly looked away when you unclipped your bra. Within a few moments, your shirt was on and you were clicking in the buttons. You made small talk with Harley as she too undressed, speaking of the harsh treatments you both endured during your time at Belle Reve. 

"I'm gonna kill that asshole Griggs," you muttered, filling up another of the bullets. 

"Oh, but he's so much fun!" she giggled, shaking her head. You tilted your gaze at her with question in your gaze, watching as her smile dropped slightly as she stroked a hand over a golden choker. 

You never did know how to process such a relationship like the Joker and Harley Quinn. You had only met him twice, the first time being when he interfered with a client, and the other being when Harley introduced you to him. You weren't going to deny that you were scared shitless of him, but you hid it with a raised chin and a poised smile. 

From that point on, you hadn't seen or heard from the pair since you had been put into Belle Reve.

Sighing, you turned, a frown of confusion painting your face at the sight of the nearly entire compound watching you and the clowness. 

"What?" you questioned, the word causing Harley to look up just as she pulled her shirt over her head and adjusted it. 

Immediately, the soldiers went back to their duties, though some of them were as red as a cherry as they busied themselves.

Harley lifted a compact mirror to her face, holding a bright red lipstick to her lips as she looked over at Deadshot. He was eyeing the white leather mask with a conflicted gaze as she questioned with a rake of her eyes, "Won't fit anymore? Too much junk in the trunk?"

"Nah," he sniffed. "Every time I put this on, somebody dies."

"And?" she smirked.

"I like putting it on."

"Goody." She pulled out a wooden sledgehammer from her case, twisting it in her pale fingers. "Somethin' tells me a whole lotta people are about to die."

"Yeah, it's us," the tattooed man spoke up. You had learned his name was Diablo. "We're being led to our deaths."

"Speak for yourself, mate," Digger denied, before chuckling and pointing at Diablo's face with one of his sharp boomerangs. "Hey, what's that crap on your face? Does it wash off?"

You couldn't help but huff out a small laugh at the bluntness of his question, Killer Croc joining in with a rumbling echo of his chest. 

"Hey, if you like a girl, can you light her a cigarette with your pinkie?" Harley wondered. "Cause that would be real classy."

"Hey, y'all might wanna leave old boy alone," Deadshot advised, gesturing to the lot with his finger. "He could torch this whole joint. Ain't that right, ese?"

"Ain't got nothing to worry about from me," Diablo shook his head. "I'm cool, homie."

You and the rest of the group moved towards Rick and his two closer soldiers. You eyed all three with a mischievous glint in your eyes, placing a hand on your hip as Harley sidled up to your side.

"Behold the voice of God," Flag said, holding up a tablet to your vision where a clear image of the woman sat.

"For those of you who don't know me officially, my name is Amanda Waller. There's an active terrorist event in Midway City. I want you to enter the city, rescue HVT-1, and get them to safety."

"I'm sorry, uh..." Deadshot waved his hand to gather her attention as he continued, "For those of us who don't speak good guy, what is HVT-1?"

"The only person that matters in the city, the one person you can't kill," she answered. "Complete the mission, you get time off your prison sentence. Fail the mission, you die. Anything happens to Colonel Flag, I'll kill every single one of you."

"There goes my fun," you muttered, Digger chuckling as he moved the toothpick to the other side of his mouth. 

"Remember, I'm watching. I see everything."

The video call ended, and Rick handed the tablet to one of his men. "There's your pep talk," he said, glancing at Deadshot.

"Compared to your shit, she killed it," he shrugged. "So, that's it? What, we some kid of Suicide Squad?"

"I'll notify your next of kin," Flag muttered, shoving past the hitmen and Boomerang as he called out, "Alpha, Bravo team. Mount up!"

"Well, isn't this exciting?" you murmured with a scowl.

"You and me both, dollface," Deadshot nodded, clapping your shoulder.