Pilot

Who the hell are *you*?

The muzzle brake stared at him across the narrow of the corridor, in the dark.

I was gonna ask you the same thing.

He grinned slyly, holding the pistol slighly askew towards her.

What are you doing here?

Same deal.

They stared at each other for a moment.

You're not helping yourself here.

You're pointing a gun at my face. Pardon me if I feel a little cagey.

The outside is quiet, save for whisper of the leaves.

Are you after the Glass House?

Yep.

Where's the rest of your team?

His expression turns serious.

Dead. — His voice is grave for a moment. — Yours?

Captured. A few miles from here. I was the only one to escape.

Are they alive?

Dunno.

Can you contact them?

No.

Are you gonna help them?

Of course.

A subtle gust of wind blew by the front of the house, clearly audible.

His sly grin crept back in.

I have an idea.

What's the idea?

How about we stop pointing guns at each other?

Good idea.

You first. — His eyebrows moved up suggestively.

I don't think so. — Her voice sharp like a knife.

The wooden fence creaked outside.

Alright...

He took the pistol down, then pulled his jacket aside and holstered it under his arm.

She pulled her rifle down in response, trigger finger still on the frame, her eyes fixed on him.

He took half a step forward and extended his open palm.

I'm Dapper.

She stood there for a moment, eyes briefly glancing at the palm.

May.

Dapper help his hand up for a second or two, then shrugged nonchalantly and gestured down the corridor, towards a half-open door.

I have a couple of cans if you're hungry.

I'm alright. — Tense, but a little less so now.

All the same, let's sit down. Seems like we have a matter of rescue to discuss.

Yeah, I'm doing it. No one else.

You're tough, don't get me wrong, but... — He titled his head a little. — Seems to me you could use whatever help you can get.

The trees by the road swayed quietly, moving shadows by the walls of the corridor, where the moonlight could still reach.

May gestured down the corridor with her rifle, and followed Dapper a couple of steps behind. His steps recoiled quietly across the narrow corridor, muffled by a worn carpet of indiscernible color.