Flint listened to the others, he would rather not have to go into a nightclub, too much loud electro music that didn’t have [i]any[/i] jazziness to it. Of course another reason he couldn’t go in was because everyone knew who he was, and he didn’t blend in to the modern social norms. Flint bent down and began to unlock his trunk, making sure no-one could see within from the angle he was opening.  Smudge felt braver, and so began to walk around the room, smelling and rubbing her scent on anything and everything. 

As he rummaged he heard Beth address him, “…. Alternatively, with some form of back up. You're familiar with that term, right, Flint? Oh, no, you like to work alone” The others couldn’t see Flints un-amused face from behind the trunks lid, but if they had they would see a scowl that stretched across his face.  The group continued chatting and Flint finally rose when Parry volunteered to enter the establishment.

The Thompson submachine gun in his hand, commonly nicknamed the ‘tommy gun’, looked old and well used, the receiver’s blueing had almost completely come off, the fore end seemed like it was barely held together, and tape covered half of an engraving on the stock. The gun had a fifty round drum magazine and despite how much weight this puts on the front of the gun, Flint held it as if it was an extension of his own body. 

“I will be back up” Flint said finally, glaring at Beth for her previous comment. Sure he preferred to work alone, but it was not like he hadn’t worked in groups. Your squad was your family in the world wars and this held strong with Flint. He had worked flawlessly with his group and despite the many losses, his team could withstand attack after attack. 
 
"There are two people outside." Rikive said slowly, Flints hand went to the receiver on his sub machinegun, he racked the well-oiled bolt and looked to the others “Maybe we should go say hi?” Flint smirked, resting the gun on his shoulder as he span on his heel. “I’ll show them why they used to call this the trench sweeper… unless anyone thinks it is just a random passer-by who just [i]happens [/i] to be here accidentally” The sarcasm flowed through him like some sort of magical energy, it might even be  the only thing that kept him alive, maybe it was even the source of all his power.