Jason slipped his gear on, eyeing you with scrutiny as he watched you enter the locker room. You were new, and it was obvious. You were quiet, light on your feet, clumsy. He didn’t want to have a partner. He worked alone, especially on assassination missions. He hated playing babysitter for the newbies. But you seemed meek. Maybe you’d be the only rookie that wasn’t a pain in his ass. He slung his gun over his shoulder. “You ready? Where’s your gear?” he asked. Good god. You were a mess.