It’s On

"My bar, Matilda's." Sam said. "Named the place after an old flame. Oh man she had the biggest..." He gave them a coy grin then chuckled. "...Personality... Ah... well this is my place. Let's get you inside."

Fly grinned, recognizing the shifting gears in Sam’s mind as he spoke. It didn’t matter to Johnny how big her assets were. She would never measure up to Quin.

He looked up at her and gave a weak wink. He thought he could endure the moving, but it had actually taken a lot out of him. He was feeling his temperature spiking again.

“I think I’m going to need some rest,” he confesses. “Doc?” he looked up at Quin, “what is your prognosis?”

She hoped he understood. It was bad enough she'd gotten Hank to work on the team, despite his personal involvement, which was already stretching things with the Bureau. If they got found out, odds are one or both of them would be sent to some nowhere shit job in Alaska. And you can't surf in Alaska the last time Val checked.

They were getting closer, Val could see the airfield getting closer through the window of the truck. She put her hand on her sidearm and steeled herself for the events to come...

Hank gave her a hurt look, then grinned. He understood the implications behind her action. He just wanted her to know she was his stability in this situation. He would stick close to her and follow her lead.

Sure, he had to pass testing from r carrying his weapon. He never thought they’d let a <i>squint</i> like him to be involved in a possible shootout. Johnson did want him to stay behind. Hank made the decision. He wanted to be there to protect Johnny, if need be.

As the SUV entered the airstrip, Hank could feel everyone’s tension. Or was it him? His hand instinctively pulled his handgun and made sure a round was in the chamber.

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