Xavier's ass was numb from sitting. He shifted, trying to find a more comfortable position against the van's metal side. His hands were folded in his lap, head lolling forward as he dozed off.
"Yo, sleeping beauty!"
He jerked awake, blinking. Roman was in front of him, all six feet of tattooed muscle topped with a shock of green mohawk. The guy was loading a rifle.
"What's up?" Xavier mumbled, rubbing his eyes.
Roman flashed a grin. "Just making sure you haven't forgotten why we're here."
"Infiltrate a warehouse at the docks, right?"
"Good boy," Roman chuckled. "Glad to see your brain cells are still firing."
Xavier scratched his chin. "So, what's in this warehouse anyway?"
Roman snorted, slinging the rifle over his shoulder. "That's on a need-to-know basis, rookie. You'll see when we get it."
A beat of silence passed between them, broken only by the moving van.
