“Good work today, John.”
“Yeah, well…” he paused as he looked over those who remained from the fight. They’d been through hell and back and survived. They’d have another shot. “Yar’ow ain’t gettin’ ‘way, Christa. I’ll either tag ‘er, ‘r you an’ yer boys ‘re gonna. Either way, she just made life somethin’ worth livin’ fer just a little while longer.”
“Words like that, you should consider joining Interpol,” Christa said with a smile.
John Walker let out a laugh as he took out his flask and opened it. “I appreciate the offer, Miss Rayne. But I like what I’m doin’ right now. Maybe in a couple more years…” he took a swig and handed the flask to Christa.
She took it carefully, taking a swig of her own before replying. “A couple more years? John, you’re going to be ready to be put out to pasture by then.”
He shook his head and sighed as Christa returned the flask. “As long as there’s them like these, I ain’t restin’. Can’t put an ol’ dog like me down.” He pocketed the flask and looked directly at Chrlsta. “‘Sides, gotta keep ya on yer toes somehow, ‘Serge.”