Words spread that whenever Agent White was on the hunt, no one could escape his hold, not even Houdini himself. Because even when he wasn't on the hunt himself, he could track you down from a single footprint on dry concrete while he sipped his black coffee in the comfort of his office.

"Are you seriously telling me this is what they wrote about me ?"

Thomas set the newspaper down on his desk, sinking back into his expensive leather chair as he turned away to face the city view. The big panels of glass in his office made his stomach churn. He felt too exposed, almost. But that's what you get for being a secret. Every person you meet on the street. Every interaction you had. Even the madman shouting propagandas in the street. They could all be out for you.

Thomas lifted up the mug on his desk, fingers trembling slightly as they curled around the handle. A very rare occurrence indeed. Was he scared ? Oh, no. He was excited...knowing the person who wrote that newspaper was the culprit he was looking for all along.