"Damn, late again," Aaron muttered to himself, riding in his black F150 down the back road. "Always gotta be out in the middle of nowhere. Why can't we just meet in a bar somewhere for once? Call in a damn air strike, no civilians to hit out here." Seeing a gated area up ahead, he pulled over a couple hundred meters away and killed the engine. He dismounted and grabbed his Benelli M4 shotgun and Mark 23 handgun, checking that both were hot before quietly closing the truck door.
Breaking into a slow jog, he constantly checked the area as he made his way to the door. He wasn't expecting trouble, since he normally didn't find any when meeting new bosses, so he kept his finger out of the trigger well as he stopped in front of it. His vest had shells shoved into all the M4 magazine pouches, as well as the plates inside, so bullets didn't concern him. Tapping the door with his foot to check for resistance, he confidently took his left hand off the weapon and began to open the door.
Breaking into a slow jog, he constantly checked the area as he made his way to the door. He wasn't expecting trouble, since he normally didn't find any when meeting new bosses, so he kept his finger out of the trigger well as he stopped in front of it. His vest had shells shoved into all the M4 magazine pouches, as well as the plates inside, so bullets didn't concern him. Tapping the door with his foot to check for resistance, he confidently took his left hand off the weapon and began to open the door.