Agent with a History

"Thank you mister?" I asked hesitantly.

"Tyre, at your service Ma'am." He said touching the tip of his hat brim, before he turned and headed back out toward the street. I broke out of my trance and quickly stepped over the fallen gang members to follow after the man. Another book character of the same mysterious international private agency it would seem. Tyre may have lacked the physical presence of raw strength that Flint manifested, but he lacked nothing in lethality of skill. As we made the street he drilled three more gang members, who came rushing up with guns, before I could even raise mine halfway.

He stood there in the street and appeared to be waiting for someone, as he calmly reloaded his small cannons.

Hesitantly I asked, "Do you have transportation out of here?"

As if I had touched on the source of some private pain he grimaced and said, "Yes, unfortunately I do."

I didn't understand his apparent pain at the thought of transportation out of here. Why would that be a bad thing? I heard a screech of tires followed by the throaty roar of an engine with horses left over to spare. I turned to see a short bed black dodge pickup peel around a corner a block down from us. Tyre didn't seem concerned so I stayed beside him even though it looked like the truck was going to hit us.

The truck swerved to the side at the last moment and came to a screeching halt. The passenger side door swung open, as the driver leaned across the middle and pushed it open. A blast of an old country music ballad in full swing reverberated out of the cab of the truck to be heard over the sound of the engine.

"Hop in babe!" Came the salacious statement of the capable looking driver.

I complied quickly as I began to sense what some of Tyre's pain emanated from. I had no sooner gotten in then the driver stomped on the gas, flinging me back against the seat.

Turning to see that the door of the cab had slammed shut I in a panic turned back to the driver, "What about Tyre?"

"Oh, he likes the open spaces." Said the driver gesturing with a hand to the back.

I glanced through the back window to see Tyre crouched with a semiautomatic rifle across his knees beside the truck's tailgate. "Shouldn't we stop and let him up here?"

"What? Oh he'll be fine! Speaking of fine, you're every bit as hot as the boss described you! Names Galloway." He said reaching his hand over to me for the purpose of a shake.