"Wha--" He stopped speaking when he saw Char staring out the windshield ahead of her. He followed her gaze. "Oh...Oh crap...right." He paused to look at the lone figure coming toward the jeep for just a second before turning and scrambling in the back seat to find the duffel bag.

"Hurry up!" Char half whispered, half yelled at him.

"Give me a sec!" His muffled voice floated out to Char as he rifled through days worth of food wrappers and empty chip bags until he finally managed to pull the duffel into the front seat.

By now, the man had just about reached the window on the driver's side.  Char rolled down her window, all the while keeping her fingers firmly wrapped around the glock.

He grumbled a bit, clearing his throat until he finally spoke first.

"Got the money?"

"Yeah," Char replied.

"And the file?" He added.

"It's in the bag."

Char handed the bag out the window while Paulie sat next to her, silent as the grave. For once. Char thought, mercifully.

In less than twelve seconds, the exchange was over; the man in the glasses was retreating while Char pulled the jeep in reverse.

"That's it?" Paulie asked, his rapid breathing returning to normal.

"That's it."

They slowed and stopped at a red light.

"Hmp, this having-someone-killed thing is way easier than I thought."

Char rolled her eyes in the direction of the heavens and wondered why, in God's name, their boss had made her take him along.  He may have been her brother, but God help her if she didn't kill him herself before the job was finished.  All she wanted was her partner back; good ol' Moira; they had been one hell of a team.  Well, she thought darkly, that's all over.

"Where we going now?" He asked childishly.

"Headquarters." She was impatient now; flustered and bitter, not at all what she should have been feeling after such a smooth transaction.

"Cooool."

"Shut up, Paulie."

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