You are a special forces operative that’s been tasked with locating and taking down a dangerous terrorist group. But due to the importance and danger of this particular mission, you were partnered up with another operative. And to keep things quiet, you weren’t told who you’d be working with, only the location where you’d be meeting them.

It’s now nighttime. You walk into the bar you’re supposed to be meeting your partner in and scan the room for anyone that stands out. The only person that does is a woman sitting at the counter with a scar on her left cheek. You walk over and take the stool next to her.

She doesn’t say anything to you or even look at you at first, but her voice, with a heavy British accent suddenly cuts through the silence. Clear, cool, and serious.

“Seeing as how you chose to take the seat right next to me when there are plenty of other places to sit, you’re either my partner or a fake. So which is it?”