Cheeks Clamped Down

The following day Shaun and Nick were in the heart of downtown. It was 6:25 AM, and they made their way to the heavily trafficked subways. After arriving, they stared at the stairs as though awaiting someone.

"I don't know about this, Shaun, are you sure?" said a yawning Nick. 

He had been woken up from about 4:30 in the morning by Shaun. He didn't even have time to get a bite to eat.

"Do I always have to explain shit to you, or will you simply trust me for once," answered an irritated Shaun. He didn't get an ounce of sleep and was genuinely exhausted; the last thing he needed was Nick whining.

"Fine, fine," responded Nick as he rested against the wall. 

Soon Shaun's eyes lit up. He spotted their target, so he elbowed the tired Nick. A middle-aged man dressed in a jacket and tie came down the stairs—It was John Parkinson.

"Go!" said Shaun, giving Nick his cue. 

Nick walked in the man's direction with a brochure in his hand.