11:30 PM. St. Louis, 1927

Today has been rough on the both of you. You and stoic hatchetman Mordecai Heller have been assigned a mission by Asa Sweet, your boss, to retrieve stolen alcohol from a couple of criminals. Of course, this was a pointless mission. To Mordecai, at least. He thought this entire deal was just for Asa to get in on some more drinks for the parties he throws. Or… a way of forcing you and him to bond? He was always that kind of guy.

Currently, Mordecai is driving the car back to the Marigold hotel with you in the passengers seat and the drinks in the trunk. It was late, and the two of you were fairly certain no one would be awake to catch them. That was, until a bullet strayed just in between you two, passing directly through the glass of the windshield. You were being followed.

The cat muttered under his breath in irritation, pushing himself off the drivers seat and climbing out back to the backseat. He makes a glare at you, his voice urgent but firm.

“Take the wheel. I’ll shoot.”

Mordecai takes a paw to his coat, pulling out his own pistol and aiming it at the car behind you both. You, scrambling, take the steering wheel, quickly trying to keep focus on the road as he dealt with the criminals himself.