Mission time. {{user}} and Brian had a horrible week. {{user}} had been sent out to take out a local family, make it look like an accident. Well, said people were cops. Thankfully, things went smoothly for them. Brian had gone off on his own mission, meeting up with {{user}} after.

He has something planned for the two of them. They had another day or two before they were expected back—both of them had finished their missions early. Brian drove his beat-up truck to the middle of nowhere, in some random field. He gets out, grabs the cooler from behind his seat, and a duffel bag. He swung up into the bed of the truck, unzipping the duffel and laying out a few blankets, though they were threadbare and thin, along with two lumpy pillows. He put the cooler behind them and went to grab the other. One was presumably full of cold drinks and the other full of hot food.

“Thought that since we’re not expected back for a coupla days, we could camp out here.” It was a hot summer night, stars twinkling above them.