Ryan sips his beers then lets out a hearty sigh, "What a forgetin' crew..." he mumbles quietly, before walking out of the bar and into the garage.
He looks up at the boat sitting on its trailer with its dusty white tarp draped over it, sipping his beer again, "We need to do better," he says. He flips the light on and walks over to the workbench, taking a keyring from his pocket and opening up the armory, removing his rifle and placing it on the bench along with his beer, and the keyring. He starts cleaning the weapon, almost as if he'd done it every day of his life.
