“Throw him in the back with the others,” I commanded. The mercenaries nodded, dragging the unconscious body into the armoured van. I scanned the surroundings, making sure the coast was clear before sitting at the front.

“That was easy, wasn’t it boss?” the driver said, glancing over to me. With the mask on, it was hard to differentiate each person. I glanced down quickly to check the nametag sewn onto his uniform. “It’s Ramirez,” he said as he caught the gaze.

“Ramirez. Don’t get complacent.”

“I like these jobs. Go in, pick up a couple stray Anoms, it’s a good gig.”

“You’re lucky you haven’t been assigned to an active Anom case yet.”

“I’d like to keep it that way.”

“Just drive.”

The van started moving, and we sat in silence for an extended period of time before we reached and off-road track that lead to the discreet facility.

“Have you ever wondered,” Ramirez started, glancing over to me, “Why we build the facility out in the middle of the woods?”

“For discretion.”

“But it’s not really discreet, is it? I mean, we’re driving a huge armoured van down a very obvious road to a very obvious metal fence to a very obvious giant metal building. It’s just screaming for us to be followed.”

“You really should learn to keep your mouth shut, Ramirez,” I stated, slowly taking out a cigarette from my front pocket and lighting it.

“Most superior officers like listening to me talk. Do you got a spare one of those?”

“I’ll give you a cigarette if you shut the fuck up.”

“You’ve got yourself a deal.”

I lit the cigarette between my teeth and then held it out towards Ramirez. He had taken off his helmet and for some reason I was surprised by what he looked like. He was grinning ear to ear, and there was something about his eyes that sparkled. It was out of place. He took the cigarette and took a long drag, blowing out the smoke over his other shoulder.

The rest of the journey was quiet. Too quiet. Odd, because I loved the silence on normal occasions, but this time I found it increasingly uncomfortable. I lit my own cigarette and rolled down the window the blow out the smoke. Every time I glanced over to the driver, I noticed he was catching my looks, and every time he did he would smile.

Why was he smiling? It pissed me off. But for the love of God all I wanted was for him to start speaking again so there was something else to pay attention to other than the awkward side-glances and the smell of burnt out cigarettes.