Tyr’s offer

Tyr’s brother was sporting some pretty thick stubble on his chin and was clad in a pair of worn khaki trousers and a faded white t-shirt with a few holes in it.

The apartment was pretty small, consisting of a kitchen and a combined bedroom and living room, and there were a few empty beer bottles lying around, while the narrow bed looked pretty beat-up. There were not a lot of furniture there, nor were there any posters or photographs decorating the walls.

“You alone?” Tyr asked his brother.

“Yeah, and hung-over…” The two brothers seated themselves by the kitchen table.

“Frank,” Tyr began, “mom said you got out of the army a while back.”

“Uh-huh. Did she tell you where to find me?”

“Yes. What happened, Frank?”

“Nothing much, my second tour was coming to an end, and my old LT got in touch to tell me he had a job for me.” Frank got into the army in order to use the GI bill to go college, but had ended up signing up for a second tour at the end of his first one.
The Special Forces business had begun during his first tour, or at least that was how Tyr had understood it.

“A job?”

“Yeah, I…” Frank stopped himself and let out a tired chuckle, “I was a consultant to Dunkelzahn’s campaign.”

“What?”

“You heard me. I got to go to the worst places and set up strategies to keep the campaign-workers safe.” Political campaigns were not without danger, as quite a few of Dunkelzahn’s volunteers had ended up dead at the hands of Brackhaven’s thugs, “It stopped being on the level of a few civil rights workers ending up dead down in Mississippi a long time ago, Jimmy.”

“You’re still a hopeless idealist, aren’t you?” Tyr teased his big brother.

“It’s better than being a prissy little bitch that goes through life pretending to be a fucking cynic.” Frank’s voice suddenly had a hard edge to it, and Tyr could see that his brother was bracing himself for a fight.

“Frank, let’s not do this,” Tyr tried to talk him down, “I didn’t come here for a fight.”

“Oh yeah? Well, it sure seems like it when you come here and start pissing on everything I’ve ever done. I don’t need the opinion of someone who’s never found anything worth fighting for.” Frank hadn’t been in a fight since last night, and he was beginning to long for it as he felt his head throb from his hangover and his ribs ache from the hit he took the night before. The news about Dunkelzahn’s **** had sent Frank into a four-day bender which was just coming to an end.

“Frank!” Tyr was beginning to lose his temper, “I came here about a job.”

“What kind of job?” Frank had gotten up on his feet, and as there didn’t seem to be a fight happening in the near future, had settled for pouring himself a glass of juice.

“It’s in my line of work, that’s all I know for now,” Tyr explained, “you know the District, which is useful for us, and having a sniper on your side is never a bad thing.”

“Yeah, alright,” Frank grunted, “I’ve got nothing better to do.”

“Good,” Tyr was slightly surprised by how quick his brother had been to accept his offer, “just one thing though, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t call me Jimmy if we’re going to work together.”

“Huh? What the hell else am I supposed to call you?”

“People call me Tyr,” Tyr announced, feeling quite sheepish.

“You got a nickname? Do I get one? Will I get to learn the secret handshake and get a silly hat as well?”

“Frank…”

“Yeah alright, just give me a few minutes to get dressed and gather up my stuff.”