Hammershield — Jared McVay

IT WAS A BEAUTIFUL DAY. Tyrone Brewster walked out of the station; confident this was going to be an easy job. At five foot eight inches, average build, brown eyes, brown hair, brown suit and brown derby hat, with no scars or distinguishing marks, he looked just like any other drummer riding the train. Only, he was no drummer. He was a bringer of death, an assassin, and Hammershield had met his price. Mister Clay Brentwood, Texas Ranger, would be dead long before he reached Dallas.