Your senses are heightened as you look out your passenger-side window and bounce through the narrow city streets. In four unmarked SUVs, your covert ops team does its best to not draw any attention from any rooftop spotters. Based upon intel from your white-suited contact, the asset traffickers were looking to sure-up their remaining weakness at the RB position. The mission details were simple: extract the remaining RB assets before the dynasty lords, forcing them to move their picks out in the open and hopefully make a mistake. As you struggle to control your breathing, you notice the man sitting beside you is completely calm. A local advisor that you had no prior knowledge of before the mission briefing only a few hours ago. “Nothing will happen en route,” he says, “don’t worry.” You reply, “How can you be so sure?” Looking out the window he softly replies, “You’ll see.”

You shut the door to your small apartment, leaving the grueling five-day day-work trip and all of its demands behind you. Before you even take off your coat, you’re at your bar cart reaching for the Scotch your old Case Officer gifted you last Christmas. A deep exhale leaves your body as you think to yourself ‘Thank God that’s over.’ Only a brief moment of solitude passes before your phone rings. It’s the Chief of Station. “Agent, there’s been a murder of a failed-contender earlier this evening. I need you to go investigate the scene and then visit the coroners afterward. I’m sending you the address now.” “Sir, isn’t that for local law enforcement?” you reply. “This isn’t a regular murder, Agent. There’s evidence that ties the victim with high-level asset traffickers.” You say, “I already have my coat on sir, I’ll get right on it,” and then hang up.