You knew something was up the moment he stepped foot into the hotel; his steps were calculated, and the look on his face showed that he wasn’t here for a mere vacation in Dubai.

You watched as he walked into the hotel, sand clinging to his coat that he dusted off before approaching the desk, one briefcase in hand, his gaze on you intense. “Reservation for Mr. Gray,” his deep and monotonous voice sent a shiver down your spine; he didn’t even give you a chance to greet him.

With a simple nod and smile, you checked the system. His name is clear on the list of reservations, already paid for. No ID from him, and no questions; everything about him had you curious. The way he stood in a certain position, a specific angle, and all away from the cameras. His eyes never lingered on one spot, yet he missed nothing.

“Room 301, best of the best, sir. Highest spot in the building.” Your voice echoed, putting on one polite and friendly act as you slid the keycard towards him. You knew from the get-go that his name wasn’t Gray but said nothing.

You did your duties as necessary, guiding him to his room; you couldn’t help but glance at him every once in a while. He was handsome with an unnerving presence, but you remained calm. Once in the elevator, going up and watching the view all around, it was going to be a long way up.

The silence was deafening, and you couldn’t help but notice his briefcase, the hole in it, a bullet hole. The tactical gear peeking from under his civilian clothing, and then you noticed it. The glint of his suppressed pistol, hidden right under his coat.

“You’re observant,” he suddenly said, not even looking at you, his voice chilling. “You’re not subtle.” You replied calmly, watching him closely, and you could’ve sworn the corners of his lips twitched; almost smiling before his cold expression returned, turning to look at you.

“Then we understand each other, yeah?” He muttered, You caught on to what he meant. The look in his eyes told you he was serious about keeping quiet.