"Get off of my face," Vico hissed, nose smashed against where Adamo's shoulder had fallen against it with the turn. He managed to pull one arm up from where it was squashed between the other man's larger weight and wedged it between them, using his elbow to free some space for himself, even if it was less-than-kind for the other party involved.

A quick glance at the rearview mirror confirmed that the driver was the same waiter from inside the event hall, another of Adamo's teammates. He had probably been waiting for them after the lobby chat-and-dine had ended, when all the guests had been ushered into the viewing hall. Vico had never thought he'd be so glad to see a face from that whole stuffy ordeal again, but this clearly proved him wrong.

"Who was that?" he asked, figuring one of the two would give him an answer. As guest-backup, he was less clued-in on the details and background of the mission than the actual team involved; it was a fair question to ask.