The Last Abrams

A Contract

Hello there! It's Who's_Man. Sorry about the wait! High school just ramped up and I'm having trouble writing the chapters. Also, I may have been slacking off a tidbit with Tarkov. But finally a new chapter!

A Contract

Citadel, Indiana

January, 21st 2039

Jackson opened the store's door and was immediately met in the face by two men, toting M4s and wearing tactical rigs. They looked at Jackson and Wyvern with glaring eyes. "Are you the tank commander?" one of them asked.

Jackson looked straight into their eyes, "What if I am?" Jackson's hand slowly snuck to the holster on his waist, resting it on his M1911. Glancing to his left, he saw Wyvern subtly unholster her USP.

"The mayor has requested a meeting with you," said the soldier, "now if you will follow us." The two men then turned and started to move.

Jackson sighed as he lifted his hand off his pistol and Wyvern followed suit. "Couldn't they send less intimidating people?" Wyvern asked eyeing the path the soldiers were carving through the streets and citizens stood at the edges. "Where we going anyway?" Wyvern chirped. Jackson shrugged and soon enough they reached their destination. What stood in front of him was a familiar sight. White marbled sprawled out in front of him, holding up the large pristine white roof. Going inside the soldiers they been following suddenly split and stood guard at the front doors. The interior of the building was clean with marble floors and chandeliers covering the ceiling. In front of them stood a petite woman wearing a dark blue dress.

"Hello! My name is Gwen West and I'm the secretary of Mayor Travis. I'll take you to him right now." The woman lead them through a corridor lined with guards with high end and expensive gear.

"What's with the amount of firepower here?" Wyvern whispered eyeing the armed guards at every corner.

"That's because some people don't agree with the mayor's policies," the secretary replied overhearing Wyvern.

What types of policies can cause this response, Jackson thought, probably not very good. The woman brought the duo to a pair of large oak doors.

"Please go in he's awaiting you," the secretary said, leaving the two alone. Opening the doors Jackson saw a simple wood desk with files and maps piled on top of it. Behind it sat a man, about mid 40's, looking right at him.

"Welcome!" exclaimed the man standing up, "you must be those soldiers manning that tank. A pleasure." He shook Jackson's and Wyvern's hands, "The name is Travis Rook and I'm the mayor of this city. And yours is..."

"Jackson and she's Wyvern," Jackson said pointing to his companion.

"Wyvern. What an odd name..." Travis thought out loud.

Wyvern sighed, "Why does everyone say that?"

"Anyway. I want to thank you for saving that convoy earlier," he said.

Jackson narrowed his eyes, "You're welcomed, but I don't think you'll have us escorted here for that reason."

Travis smiled, "Glad you noticed. Listen closely." Jackson and Wyvern looked at him. "I want to hire you."

"Hire us for what?" Wyvern asked

"You see. We have a small problem with a bandit group harassing our city and our city doesn't have the equipment to take them out. They have old armored vehicles from a local tank museum and your own tank is perfect for this job!" he explained.

Wyvern and Jackson looked at each other, "What's in it for us?"

"I'll pay you. Let's say... 50 grand. Also, I'll give you free housing to work from," Travis explained putting his hand out, "how bout that?"