Molly pulled the truck up with a skidding halt, the tires screeching on the pavement. Quintus thought for a moment she would simply run Cho-Tyrek over, but he shook his head at himself when she managed to stop just before the truck would run right over him. Quintus slapped the dashboard twice and shoved the door open, holding his blaster out in a two handed, tactical grip. In the old days, men and women would scramble over themselves to get out of his eyesight, when 'Sweep' was on the move. Now he was in the business of money, not reputation.

He saw Cho was unresponsive, but his pack began to wriggle. [i]Definitely not a human child[/i], he thought, even before the thing turned and looked at him. Quintus eyed it incredulously. However, before he acted violently, Silas' voice picked up over the comm. "Copy, we were belted tight." He informed the older gentleman. Usually he refrained from using proper military terms on an outfit like this, but whatever the hell was in the bastard's pack had him creeped out. It took all his will power not to shoot it and spit on whatever counted for its corpse. 
 
He breathed a sigh, and flipped the safety back on his rifle, at ease. He knocked his knuckles against the truck's hood. "Hey Mall, get your ass here. You don't need to guard the seat." He remarked. "You can drive us back, I don't need a turn." Quintus said sardonically, dismissive of the fact the flames were spreading on the near-broken vehicle. 

Maybe he should have told her to back it up before she got out, but little miss smoke and lighting was already hopping out.