Transistor's eyes darted back and forth again. The glare of headlights pulling in and out of the truck stop bounced off the front of the windshield and temporarily blinded him from being able to see what kind of vehicle it was. @Fiend was trying to read the newspaper by the soft glow of the neon sign above the diner attached to the truck stop. It wasn't working.

Transistor consults his watch before turning to Fiend.

"She said 10:45 did she not? I swear that's what I heard." His obsessive compulsive was showing.

Transistor pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket to wipe away the condensation on the inside of the windshield as a bigger vehicle turns into the parking lot. Leaning forward to get a better look, he sighs disappointed.

"That's not it either." He stuffs the handkerchief back into his breast pocket.

Fiend was already staring at Transistor with a slightly annoyed look on his face. He lowers his newspaper to draw attention to his stare.

"Your watch is fast. It's 10:43. I've been doing this for a while, if @Morgaine said the load will be here, it will be here. You need to relax, it's all set up. He's on the payroll." Fiend smiled as he finished speaking before tilting the newspaper back up and cocking it to the left to try to catch the beams of a car passing on the highway.

"Alright, can we just go over the plan one more time?"

Fiend forces air through his nostrils, snapping the paper into its fold and dumping it on the dash.

"It's easy. Simple in 'n' out. They know not to give us much of a struggle. Just swing your gun around a bit. Look a bit scary. I'll take the truck, you follow on behind. Trust me, it'll go smooth. The guys know what's going on. All we gotta do is get the truck home."

With the end of his sentence, headlights appeared in the rear-view mirror.

"This is them. Masks on."

Fiend clenched his piece firmly in his hand and pulled the blackness over his pale skin, leaving only his blue eyes visible. He nodded at @Transistor and exited the vehicle. Before he could even make it across the road to the truck, he was waving his gun around and barking orders,

"OUT. OUT. OUT. NOW. GET THE FUCK OUT. ON YOUR FACE."

The passenger exited the truck and made his way around the vehicle. With a knowing look, he nodded and proceeded to lower himself to the ground before taking a turn shouting at the driver,

"Don't be a hero, Luka! Get out the truck!"

Fiend's attention suddenly turned to the passenger, "Luka? Who the fuck is..." - before he could finish his sentence, a gunshot echoed from inside the cab, a bullet ricocheting off of a nearby vehicle. As quick as a cat, Fiend dived to safety under the truck and screamed at @Transistor in panic,

"KID, WE GOTTA WASTE THIS FUCKING GUY..."

He continued his sentence muttering to himself,

"On the fucking payroll, they said..."

As Transistor approached the cab and opened the door, he met a unfamiliar face that seemed inversely just as alarmed to see him as he was to see the passenger.

"Don't be a hero, Luka! Get out the truck!" The sounds of the arranged passenger bounced softly over the leather interior of the truck.

Soon after the end of the sentence, Transistor was rocked by the sound of a gunshot.

"BANG!"

Time slowed, almost as if he could see the sound resonating through the air, out into the highway and up the rolling hills of the outskirts of Detroit. Was this it? Did he just fucking get done in on his first heist? God, @Morgaine and @Flash-Fire would be so upset if all this training was wasted just for him to get capped on his first real night out. Muffled, Transistor could vaguely hear the comforting sounds of @Fiend's voice yelling out. Shaking out of his stupor he recognizes the words:

"KID, WE GOTTA WASTE THIS FUCKING GUY..."

Transistor came to kneeling next to the fuel tank of the truck. The bullet missed him- either that or hell was just a construct that mimicked the life he had already been living.

The time for discussion was over the minute the gun discharged.

"You piece of shit."

Transistor raised his gun and fired two shots. The first one entered the arm of the outspoken driver, Luka, and exited downward in the direction of the obedient passenger. The second penetrated the gut of Luka, causing him to topple forward and out of the truck. His gun still in hand.

"Fuck, Luka! I told you. Fuck!" The driver shrilled.

"This is belly up boss!" Transistor looks toward @Fiend. "What's the play here?"

Transistor kicks Luka's pistol out toward the rear of the truck and looks toward the diner where the patrons were already staring out the windows toward the commotion.

Fiend dived from beneath the truck and threw his foot into Luka's heavy body.

"You scumbag son of a bitch, you nearly killed the fucking kid!"

He spat on the ground and placed his hand on Transistor's shoulder, his grip firm and comforting,

"You okay? That was some quick thinking. You're right, we gotta get out of here. We need a distraction."

Fiend ran to the back of the car they arrived in and rattled through the boot in search of something. Even he wasn't sure of what he was looking for just yet, but he'd know when he saw it. As he continued his search, he called out again to @Transistor,

"Check the back of the truck, kid! Make sure it's all there! If anything ain't right, kill the passenger too. Luka wasn't here by accident."

The man rolled around the floor whimpering in fear before plucking up the balls to beg, "No, Mr. Fiend.. Honestly.. It wasn't me."

Fiend turned and gave the man a stern look before breaking eye contact slowly to continue his search for a distraction. After a few moments, his eyes fixed on the passenger again and his first hand appeared from inside the boot, holding a can of fuel. His smile grew wry and evil as he held his firm look on the sweating passenger - looking far more fearful than just a moment ago.

"How's that loot, son? We good to go?"

As he waited for a response from the young @Transistor, he turned to look at all the peeking faces of the diner. In the meantime, his other hand had collected an old rag and an empty glass wine bottle (probably one of @Dopamine's, seeing as it was empty) from the back of the car. As he soaked the cloth in fuel, he began walking slowly towards the diner before exclaiming at the top of his voice,

"YOU SHOULD ALL GO ON HOME, NOW. YOU DIDN'T FANCY DINNER TONIGHT, AFTER ALL." He paused, his face growing more serious, "LEAVE."

He waved his gun around in the air hoping the on-lookers would show some respect. However, most of them couldn't even identify what was happening - and those who could just proceeded to cower behind the seating they were on.

Fiend muttered to himself, "I could've just stayed indoors tonight... Easy fucking job..?" His patience began to wear thin.

He placed his gun back into it's holster as calmly as his tension allowed and revealed a shiny lighter from his pocket. With the third flick of his thumb, the spark ignited the doused rag and his petrol cocktail was healthily-alight. He released a burst of maniacal laughter as he waved the ticking disaster around a little in his hand. He was a daring creature and the excitement of fire only made him worse. Once he'd played with danger long enough, he leaned the top of his body back and lunged forward to launch the explosive through the diner window. With the loud explosion, the panicking civilians oozed from the buildings exits, screaming as they hurried down the road to their fancy vehicles.

"That's it.. Go on home, now. You didn't fancy dinner tonight, remember..." He spoke only loudly enough for himself to hear as he wiped his hands off, shaking his head and making his way back towards the truck.

"ALRIGHT SON, NOW WE'RE IN A RUSH. WHAT'S THE WORD ON THE GOODIES?" He called out at @Transistor once more.

Out of breath, Transistor jogs to the back of the truck, stepping over Luka and past the frozen passenger.

"Fiend, something's not right here. There's no lock on the back." Transistor pops the latch and the back door roars open.

Empty.

"Fuck, Fiend, you better come take a look at this."

Transistor pops his Zippo out of his pocket, lights it, and leans into the cargo area of the truck. He peers around the driver's side of the truck and approaches the "payrolled" passenger.

"You're gonna have to start talking, pal. We're short on time, and Fiend over there is very, very short on patience. My information tells me you know what this is, so where's the fuckin' loot?"