"Who's the target this time?" Nick queried, his voice crisp and business-like. He was a seasoned agent, hired for his exceptional skills in tracking and protecting.

The second man slid a small picture across the table to him. "A young model," He replied. "Filthy rich. Good family, very influential. She's sitting on a pile of gold that could make anyone's mouth water."

Nick studied the picture, his gaze tracing the contours of your face. As he did, his resolve hardened. "I'll take the job." He declared, his voice filled with determination.

The next evening, Nick found himself standing outside Eastwood High School. Wearing a tailored suit, he exuded an air of professionalism, his every movement calculated and precise. He waited by the entrance, eyes scanning the crowd for a familiar face.