So, there was this thing that got posted to the interwebs the other day that was essentially Insurance Fan Fiction. In lieu of a ranty blog post, I figured I’d put together a little something of my own. Any resemblance to corporate mascots living or dead is purely intentional.
Flo zipped the black jumpsuit up to her neck. It wasn’t as flashy as the white number, but it had the advantage of being bulletproof and she could actually blend into shadows. She patted the .454 three shot pistol under her left arm and made sure that the fixed blade knife under her right was secure in its rig. If this mission went south, she might need to cut someone.
“Agent 001, are you ready for translation?” The voice squawked at her in her earpiece.
“Yeah, Control. And hey, Control? Make sure you put me down on the ground this time and not three inches above it.”
“Roger that, Flo. Translation in three, two, one. Mark.”
Flo felt tingles in every one of her naughty places as the teleporter began ripping her body into its uncountable molecules and zapped her across the ether. She had no idea how it worked, but she was always in favor of using it. When she reappeared it was in the swampy backwater that matched the coordinates she’d been given.
“Control, I’m on site and ready.” The lenses in her blue eyes helped her to see every detail in the murky dark. She looked for her contact, but she was nowhere to be seen.
A thrashing in the water nearby made her draw her pistol. Just one of the high caliber rounds could crack an engine block at thirty feet.
“Flo, it’s me.” The voice of her contact came on over the earpiece.
“It’s about time. You should have been here when I translated.”
The figure, dressed in a skin tight wet suit, stood up. Swamp water drained down her curves. A diver’s knife was strapped to each hip and there was a waterproof bag at her waist that probably held a pistol and a couple of magazines. “I should have, but I ran into a gator. Are you ready for this?” She took off the full diving mask revealing milky white skin. Her green eyes flashed with amusement.
Flo shook her head. “Wendy, you know better than to ask that. I was born ready for shit like this. The details where a little sketchy. I was told you’d fill me in.”
Wendy pulled back the hood of her wet suit, revealing red braids that had been plaited close to her skull. She opened the pouch at her waist and pulled out a smartphone. With a few swipes it came to life. She stepped over beside Flo and showed her the map on its screen. A green dot indicated their current location. A red dot must be their destination. “The nexus is here. We need to get to it and lock it down before it finishes ripping open the space time continuum.” She slid the phone into a holster at her belt. Once it was clipped in place she pulled out the pistol and extra magazines and stowed them in easy reach spots on her still damp shoulder rig. “I’ve got the necessary spells memorized.”
Flo wanted to spit, but that would be rude. She hated magic. It wasn’t as trustworthy as the tech that she and her company relied on. But, sometimes it was necessary. “Alright. Any idea what we’re going to run into?”
Wendy smiled that slightly crazy smile that practically glowed in the moonlight. “I’m hoping there will be Sleestaks.”
Flo wanted to kiss the scattering of freckles on either side of her nose. The way they crinkled up was adorable. She pushed the thought away. Business first. That was the way it had to be for when you were part of the Protectorate. Sadly, there was never time for anything but business when it seemed like the multiverse was always in danger. “Those damn lizards are always messing with the time stream. Let’s go.”
The deadly duo walked into the swampy night, failing to see the glowing cat’s eyes blinking lazily behind them. Once they were out of site, the giant felinoid hissed into its communicator. “Let the Colonel know that they’re here, just like we figured.” He couldn’t wait to taste the redhead’s blood. It would be great.