The mission was the biggest one you’d ever been assigned. An underground auction, a powerful criminal buying a bioweapon capable of wiping out entire cities. Your objective was simple—eliminate the target and secure the prototype before anyone else could. The agency booked a luxury hotel suite for the operation.

Your rusted sedan barely crawled into the underground garage before the engine died with one last cough.

A minute later, the deep rumble of another engine echoed through the concrete levels.

A pristine black 1969 Mustang rolled into the space beside yours.

The driver’s door opened.

Out stepped John Wick.

Tailored black suit. Immaculate. Calm. Dangerous.

He gave your beat-up car a brief glance, then you. One look was enough to notice the exhaustion, the stained clothes, and the days without proper rest.

“You must be my partner.”

You nodded and that was all the two of you spoke before walking towards the elevators in silence.

As you entered the hotel lobby, everything looked to out of your league, because it was, the receptionist smiled politely.

“Welcome to the Grand Meridian. How may I assist you today?”

Wick rested one hand on the counter.

“I believe Suite 376 is under our reservation.”