Tension between Angel and the girl. I choose not to get involved.

The girl is about to say something, but Angel cuts in harshly. “Shut up, you stupid bitch!” His voice causes some vibration in the small space. “Don’t you know to keep your mouth shut when the men are talking?!”

The girl, unlike what Scarlet would have done, shuts her mouth and looks bewildered by his outburst. Even Oldfield seems uncomfortable. All this commotion makes the others come out, too, investigating the yelling.

Now that you’re all assembled, Angel places his hands on his hips and nods. “We are in some serious shit. It seems that we all have hunters or whatever attacking our emplacements for pickup.”

Oldfield slowly nods. “Yeah, about that. Those guys that attacked last night were bounty hunters– probably hired by one of the…you know… Families that we took from.”

You shoot a glance at Angel. Oldfield just admitted thievery– admitted to kidnapping. Oldfield doesn’t waste his breath, though. He continues. “We got a radio call from one of the pickup teams that was all garbled–”

“Yes, yes, yes… That’s why I’m here. Our friend Warren and his partner were attacked last night, too. Only, unlike you fellows, they weren’t as lucky. That whole hardpoint was smashed.”

Oldfield’s green eyes flutter with dismay. “Fuck. There is a buddy of mine working there. Is he dead?”

“Yeah,” you say, not feeling much sympathy for him. “He’s gone.”

“Goddamnit,” Oldfield shakes his head, turning his back entirely away from you and Angel. “Son of a bitch owed me money still. Not to mention I gave him some of my fucking gear. Goddamnit! It was probably Benjamin’s Group.”

“Who’s Benjamin?”

“No, it’s called that. Benjamin’s Group. Caravan guards and contract mercs. Only damn people out here that aren’t raiders, contractors, or ARS. I hitched up with them last year and was planning on my return trip with them. No uniform, no nothing to tell them apart, but… “

“I thought I shook them off,” Angel grumbles. “Did you at least kill any?”

Oldfield shrugs. “We had one hell of a firefight, but we didn’t go out and investigate what happened to them after seeing what happened to us. It was dark, and we were sitting in the shack with no reasonable cover. No offense, Angel, but we’re not paid to go searching for dead bodies.”

“You won’t be paid at all unless you live. Go out there with someone and find the bodies.”

“Do we need to check on the others?” You ask Angel. He waves you off, annoyed.

“No, this is it. We only had the two teams out here for pickup. I don’t need to tell you how this all works because you won’t be with me long enough to learn the ins and outs of this,” he points at the girl. “You. Heat up and water. My friend and I are going to relax.”

The girl does as she’s told, but you have a feeling she’s going to spit in the water she serves you.

Oldfield rallies up the two others, and they gear up. They don’t dress in white but instead seem to focus on agility and extra ammo. You wonder how close you danced with death when you approached this shack with Angel or if you were in danger while traveling with Scarlet. Whatever the case, you figure that everyone besides you considers Benjamins Group to be a larger business body than it is. Scarlet’s gamble didn’t include last night’s attack, but tensions have greatly intensified.

Oldfield leaves with the others, and the girl returns with two steaming mugs with dark liquids in them. You smell coffee and smile slightly. “Thank you,” you say with a grin. The girl rolls her shoulders, ignoring you the best she can as she stumbles into her bedroll.

Angel curses when he tastes the coffee. You aren’t picky and don’t share his complaints. “Tastes like dog water,” he groans. “These people have no class.”

“Fuck off!” The girl shouts. “How about you and I swap places and see if you can do anything about the standards!?”

“I am LITERALLY ALONE taking care of snot-nosed brats. I suspected better from full-blown adults, allegedly used to working off the land,” Angel jabs his finger. “You’ve fucked off with all concern with standards.”

This time, she doesn’t hold back. “Maybe if you were smarter, you could do this during the warmer months and get your life stock moved along quicker instead of moving like some coward—“

Angel launches himself forward at the girl, wrapping his fingers along her neck to strangle her. You shift your legs, not willing to get involved.

One eye bulges as the girl struggles and attempts a gag. Angel bashes her head on the ground as he sends his retort. “I paid good money for professionals! So how the fuck did you get wrapped up with my pack mules?! You stupid, ugly, little bitch!?” He doesn’t restrain. In fact, you’re sure he’s just snapped entirely.

“That's why I can’t deal with girls! You always feel like you have something to prove! Well, why can’t you fight me off?! Huh!?” Angel holds her down, both hands around her neck. Her struggle wavers in less than 30 seconds. She’s gone purple, and her mouth hangs open in a scream no one can hear. “One…less… mouth to feed for the boys!”

He lets go, but if he intends to leave her alive, it’s far too late. She is as limp as a wet sock. Your coffee, still steaming, grabs your attention, and you sip from it. Considering the last few weeks with Scarlet, it’s not the worst you’ve seen, but you’re still surprised by Angel’s lack of patience with women. He wipes his hand over his scalp and throws his coffee at the corpse before he looks at you. “I’m amazed you can drink this garbage.”

“It’s warm,” you say. “Warmer than that girl’s body will be in 20 minutes.”

He laughs loudly and claps his hands, thrilled by your response. “Your humor knows no boundaries, does it? Shall we celebrate one less girl with a fuck?”