Wanderer 2.0, Book 1 Of The Wanderer Series

An Unexpected Introduction

A military hair cut, cargo pants, combat boots, and a grease-stained tank give off the vibe of someone who just left the battlefield. The thing about Hennessy, he never did leave. Not really.

He glowers up at their techie, Declan. The arrogant Irish slob is slouching for all to see as he taps away at his precious laptop. Declan is a mouthy bastard who chain-smokes worse than any of his old brothers in arms.

His brown hair falls to his neck in unkept waves. Those snarky grey eyes narrowing on his screen as he scratches his unshaven cheek in thought. He always looks like he hasn't shaved in a couple of days, often smells like he hadn't bathed in as long either. He's lanky and tall. Only his arms have any muscle and that's from lugging around his computers.

Hennessy turns to stare at the bench across the intersection where Gabriella sits prettily and at ease. Gabriella doesn't often join them on combative missions, preferring to use her sly tongue and mysterious intrigue to gather intel and recruits. She's merely here as a precaution, in case a distraction is needed. That'd typically fall to their boss or Benedict, but both are needed on the front lines this time.

Not much can be seen of Gabriella in her get up - a sultry black dress that clings to her olive skin and hangs off her shoulders in an enticing yet classy way along with a huge floppy black hat that hides most of her exotic face. That face has won wars before. Hennessy himself has fallen victim to her alluring smirk and butterscotch bedroom eyes. That Spaniard accent of hers doesn't hurt either.

He quickly looks away before the damn seductress can entice him into her claws again. She now has a couple of kids. Not to mention she's the boss's sister-in-law.

In a store window, a bit further down is Walter. He's hobbling along with his silver duck topped cane while scanning the items at leisure. He's a pleasant man with a gentle disposition, often seen as a father figure to the others. No one would second guess when they're told he's the boss. That's a farce, but kind of true as well. Their actual boss has a vendetta against paperwork and passes along the torch to Walter unless necessary.

Walter has known their leader longer than any of the others. Word has it that some serious shit went down in China when they were mere travel companions with the common goal of helping a small community. Apparently, it went downhill quick and together they built The Foundation from the ground up in honor of the horrors they went through and witnessed. They don't talk about it, but Declan did some digging.

Walter isn't that old, a few years over Hennessy's forty, but he'll walk with a cane for the rest of his days. A battle scar from that day long ago that's unspoken of. His grey streaked brown hair is brushed back from his face stylishly letting his kind green eyes scan without interruption. A black suit, he daily wears nowadays.

It's just as well the boss passes the torch to him so much. Walter use to be an investigative journalist. He has a knack for unearthing what needs to be unearthed and a way with words that grants the group diplomacy when needed. That's not exactly their leader's forte. She's more jump in first, ask questions later. She also tends to shoot first, which really puts a damper on the whole diplomacy thing.

Directly across from Hennessy, in an alley much like his, hides Benedict. Benedict is an alright fellow, or he would be if he'd quit being so optimistic and flirtatious all the damn time. He's a bit of a jack of all trades in the group, doing tasks as broad apart as saving the damsel to negotiating peace terms between two hostile communities. Negotiating is his strong suit though. He could convince a nun to buy a whore house. He takes full advantage of that British accent of his.