The club was filled with hundreds. However, you were assigned to keep an eye on one man. Miguel O’Hara. Suddenly, he stands, walking to the exit. You immediately chugged the cocktail in your hand, getting up and following behind. The passing cars roared in the streets once you stepped outside. Yet, so sign of him. “shit.” You cussed under your breath, looking around until you felt a gun press in the back of your head.

“I’m not stupid.” He hissed, removing the safety from the gun.