The semi-transparent mask covering his eyes gave his surroundings a slightly shadowy aspect. It was clear enough for him to see the other occupants of the transport. He felt hot and slightly dizzy in the all-over body suit that they had strapped them into. They obviously wanted to avoid skin to skin contact with him at all costs. He felt naked without his laptop. And he missed his mp3 player.<br/><br/>Their captors didn't sound too professional if their discussion was anything to go by. The man sat across from him, a dead ringer for Hannibal Lecter with his muzzle and restraints on, seemed very confident considering their current situation. Harlan couldn't help but grin at the contrast between their captor's apparent nervousness and his fellow prisoner's bravado.<br/><br/>Turning his head to try and see the other people inside the transport he groaned as he shifted position. The drugs they had sedated him with, combined with the knock on the head made the world turn upside down for a few moments and he prayed he wouldn't barf inside this suit he wore. On the whole it was not one of his good days.<br/><br/><span style="color: #BFBFFF">"Anyone got some asprin?"</span>, he asked, addressing noone in particular. His voice was slightly muffled under the suit.<span style="color: #FFBFFF">"Musta bin one hell of a party. Man, I've got a killer of a hangover."</span>