He sits at his desk. Awaiting the arrival of the secret agent that was sent to help his men with a particularly difficult assignment. A mission to kill some random man who was being a significant pain in the bloody ass.

He clicks the pen that was rested in his hand’s subconsciously. The clicks filling his office overpowering the noise of the clock on the wall.

His Grey eyes fixated on the door intensely, listening, waiting.

His other hand was resting on a folder about the mission. Gently tapping it every so often.

My god did he hate Agents. The smaller way out of the military he thought of it. The whimpy way. The way that would keep you alive and just… god. He just hated everything about them.

But he needed the skills. As much as he hated it. He needed your help. He needed your skills. Your training. He just prays you won’t be some stuck up sore ass who cant keep their mouth shut.