I'm always early for things that excites me. So, this one was no exception. I arrived at the freight facility in Bennett Street, Ardwick by a quarter past 7.00 am, feeling as pumped as the day before. Although the cold autumn wind blew fiercely on my face and its chilly air pierced through my bones, the flames inside me had kept me warm.

The compound looked deserted as though I was the only one here. The caretaker must have arrived earlier to open the gate, otherwise I won't be able to come in. But I couldn't find him or anyone lingering around this compound at this hour.

I spotted few vehicles including Nick's Mercedes Benz-McLaren SLR lined up in a row at the car park area in front of the office building, suggested that they were left here a night before. I peered through the building's entrance glass door like I did yesterday, seeking for any signs of life inside but all I could see was a dark hallway beyond the door.

Where the hell is Nick, anyway? I wondered.

I took my chance buzzing the intercom for somebody to answer, but no one responded to it just as I anticipated. I texted Nick, informed me of my arrival but I received no reply from him even after 10 minutes of waiting. So, I rang him up, but it went to voicemail.

It was already quarter to 8.00 am with no Nick or anyone in sight. My patience was wearing thin from the excessive shivering for waiting outside unattended. Then, I began to question Nick's intention of asking me to be here. Was this part of his test? Or was he pulling a cruel joke on me?

As I was occupied by these thoughts, the sound of Nick's SLR door swung open gave me the flinch. I turned towards to car to find Nick emerging out of it, sipping a beverage from a takeout cup in his hand. He walked towards me with a broad grin on his face.

"Y-you've been inside your car all this while?!" I grumbled as I shivered. "And you didn't even bother to let me in?"

"Haha! The sight of you trembling like a silly girl amuse my gloomy morning," he giggled. He walked past me, leaving a memorable sillage of Creed's Aventus mixed with a tinge of tobacco. He took out an access card, tapped it on the security pad and pushed the door inwards.

"After you," he held the door and gestured me in.

Before he led me to his office, he briefed me about ShipGoUK, the freight business he was running and showed me around the property especially the essential rooms such as the toilet and the pantry. Along the way, a common meeting room surrounded by glass panel walls on my right side, while on my left was another shipping office called UniPar Express.

I learned that Nick operated ShipGoUK during the day, while he had an illegal team as organised criminals at night. But why was he showing ShipGoUK to me? I thought he called me in to suit me up for his next break ins.

"You said you wanted a job so desperately, so it got me thinking. The shipping team is currently shortage of manpower," he told me while unlocking the office door.

"Well, if you didn't get me fired from Yosef's shop, I'd still be employed by now," I jested.

"Do you want the job or not?"

"But I didn't sign up for this," I objected. "I thought I was here for a heist job."

Nick half glance at me and cocked his eyebrows. "Nope. You're here not to join any part of that."

The office looked as though it had been there for quite a while with some old worn out furniture and somewhat cluttered spaces. Nick shrugged off his Tumi sling bag and placed both the bag and the takeaway cup on the dining table. He took off his trench coat and his grey neck warmer before hanging them by the coat hanger stand. He ordered me to leave my belongings on the sofa and I reluctantly obeyed.

"What exactly do I have to do around here?" I asked while following him exiting the office.

"A transporter job. Consider this as your first day probation. Something like an initiation," he answered in a light mood tone.

"Aren't you supposed to interview me first?"

"We already did that yesterday outside the building, remember?" he quipped, unlocking the door of another room which was adjacent to the office.

"What are the working hours here?" I queried.

"9.00 to 5.00," Nick answered while switching on the room light.

"Then why did you ask me to be here by 7.30?"

"Just because," he smirked.

The light flickered a couple of times before illuminating the small room which can only fit three people in it. The room stored all types of safety gears for the employees' disposal, with PPEs of all sizes hung by a small clothes rack against the wall on the left, helmets and stacks of shoe boxes arranged neatly in a row and two clear plastic containers placed under the rack.

Nick bent down to remove one of the plastic containers' lid before rummaging through its contents. He pulled out a worn out grey glove from the container and resumed searching for its pair.

"Why can't Chubby Jason Statham do it?" I jested.

"Chubby who?" he asked back, half paying attention.

"Chubby Jason Statham, that bald guy who beat me up like a piñata that evening," I clarified. "He's well off as a transporter."

Nick paused, he looked up fixing his eyes on me. "Cane?"

"Yeah. I thought–"

"You don't get to insult my boys like that," he chided.

Feeling flustered that Nick didn't get my Jason Statham-Transporter joke, I scowled. "And he gets to call me a bitch."

"That's his job," Nick replied nonchalantly, extracting another glove and handed it over to me. "There, try them on."

The gloves had a niff to it as though it has never left the box at all. Initially I putted on the gloves but took it off immediately. "I don't need it."

"Suit yourself," Nick shrugged. He closed the lid back on and went through the clothes rack for any PPE that could fit me.

"Why do I have to be a transporter?" I asked heatedly.

"The previous one died yesterday," Nick answered abruptly.

"Oh, how he died?"

"You asked too many questions," he snickered while handed me an M size PPE from the rack. "He died yesterday morning, accidently choking on something he thought was edible. So yeah, your sudden visit yesterday has caught us at a bad time."

"Sorry," I muttered, gazed down at the PPE and the gloves in my arms.

"Any more questions?" Nick asked, rolling his eyes at me.

I gave myself a thoughtful pause before I shot another, "Why do I have to wear all these?"