@outlawunderahood
If there was one thing Frank didn’t do, one thing he goddamn refused to do, it was fucking team-ups. Other people, they only ever got in his way, only ever slowed him down. He’d rather face down an impossible number of men on his own than call someone to help him out, rather get shot and stabbed and punched over and over than accept help from anyone. Sometimes, though, he didn’t have much of a choice. Tonight, that was unfortunately the case.
The numbers wouldn’t have bothered him typically, but the firepower was something else. The guys in question were trained, and Frank knew if he went in on his own there wouldn’t be enough of him left to make his way to Claire’s clinic for a patch up. Part of him wanted to go alone anyways, part of him didn’t much care if he didn’t make it out so long as he took as many of those goddamn bastards with him as possible, but Frank knew it wasn’t viable. As much as he hated to admit it, he needed help, and he knew exactly who to call.
He asked Todd to meet him at the gang’s base, outside. Just because he was teaming up with the kid didn’t mean he was inviting him over for goddamn tea. Frank, always punctual thanks to the Marines, got there early, sat on a nearby hill and waited. When Jason arrived, he looked up to acknowledge his presence. “You bring your own gear? I’m not much of a sharer.”
