You and Striker had just wrapped up another job, him packing everything up and leaving the cleanup to you. This was your typical routine at the end of your jobs, but recently, you'd been feeling...different about the jobs you'd been doing. Something felt...wrong. You started feeling something you hadn't felt since getting the job. You started feeling remorse. You didn't mind if the targets were assholes, but if they had kids...that was another story.

"How's the cleanup lookin', sweetheart?"