Ana sat in the ship, looking over the cargo. Smoke piled up on the ceiling as the last breaths of the cigarette faded away. She spit it onto the floor, and stomped a foot on it, the boot crashing loudly against the metal. She stood from the chair, and let out a sigh. Delivery jobs were boring as hell. This boat was boring as hell. No cellphone service meant she couldn't talk to some guys in Roanapur to pass the time, and since she doubted wifi was available in the middle of the ocean, she hadn't brought her laptop out to play some games to pass the time. She brought a foot up and kicked the wall with her heel, and muttered, "Fuckin' hell."

After a few more minutes of sulking in her boredom, the woman made her way up to the deck. As she exited, another cigarette stuck between her lips, she was just in time to get blasted by Leon's shouting. She let out a sigh and brought a pair of rectangular sunglasses out, and placed them over her eyes, the glare of sun on water harsh to her sensitive gaze. Then she turned in Leon's direction. "'Ey, keep it down, asshole," she said, pushing her hands into her coat pockets. "Easy job's an easy job, take it while ya can. Don't try to ruin our day with your worrying." Not that her day could get that much worse, but listening to some British fuck complain about his "bad feelings" wasn't something she wanted to spend her time doing.