The Last Old Men

As I got off the bus, he was sitting on a bench, staring at me. The face was lined, what hair that was left was grey, and he had a cane in his hands, but those eyes, I knew instantly who it was, I never forgot those eyes.

“I know it’s supposed to be served cold, but forty years, really?”

He laughed wheezily.

“You did a good job of hiding, plus taking out everyone else took time.”

I raised an eyebrow.

“The entire team is gone, apart from you and me?”

He nodded.

I smiled, then drew my gun first.