Fenrir's Fangs

Half a bottle of vodka, two cans of coke, and an empty pocket later, Flynn had began to get tipsy. Tratpan continued to sit quietly next to him, absorbing all that he could of the environment, while Flynn jabbered on about his life before the outbreak.

"Oh my god...you should have seen this woman...she had **** out to here!" Flynn signaled with his hands over his chest while Tratpan merrily nodded without making eye contact. Flynn paused momentarily and realized he was looking like a jack ass in front of his men. The last bit of his most recent drink swirled in the bottom of the dirty glass as Flynn rolled it in his palm. Approaching footsteps toward his table sobered his mood as he listened while continuing to appear unaware. An envelope was placed on the table and the zero agent slowly walked off. Flynn simply placed his hand on the bloodied paper and felt the hard buldge below it. A smile crept across his face as he looked up from the glass at Tratpan.

"You want another drink? Its on me."

Tratpan simply shook his head no. Flynn stuffed the envelope into his jacket pocket and pushed himself to his feet.

"Another round for everyone Jack!"