MV: Lying in Wait

It took a bit of practice with bits of trash for targets, and a recitation of the basic rules of gun safety: all guns are always loaded, trigger discipline is foremost, and you only aim a gun if you intend to shoot something. Veronica nodded along, and once Steve was satisfied they handed off a pair of weapons: a .38 revolver, and a pump shotgun with an under-barrel attachment that seemed to be a diving light or something similar.  

"Listen, kid-- Andy--" said Rodney, as he handed over the weapons. "Don't waste your time plotting against us. If you want us to cut you loose, we will. Of course, if you misbehave we might end up hunting you and I think we'd all regret that, but you're not a prisoner."

Andy gave him the most withering look he could manage. "I have three targets," he said quietly. "As disappointed as you might be to hear it, none of you qualify." He hesitated for a brief moment, then reached out and squeezed Rodney's shoulder. "And I keep my word."

Rodney managed a grin. "We won't have to make a hunter out of you," he predicted. "You've got the drive already."

Andy considered that. "You're just saying that because I know what I want and I have ideas about how to get there."

"Hunting can be done reluctantly, or joyously, but it should always have respect for the prey," Veronica said firmly. "Even Rodney acknowledges that."

Andy nodded. He had guns now. His maker did too, or his allies did. A wight, a werewolf, and a nightbringer. In theory, the strike team should be able to take care of them -- but they'd dodged the team once before, and rescued the werewolf from Andy and his rescuers. He didn't intend to underestimate them. He'd never expected to find himself in a gang war between monsters and monster-cops, but apparently that was where he was. 

It didn't matter if he lived or died. That made everything easier.