CODE NAME: WOLFGANG

LANGLEY, VIRGINIA.

The hallway of the agency's third floor smelled like stale coffee and recycled air. Antoinne Guerra moved quickly, his loafers clicking against the polished linoleum as he struggled to keep pace with Director Harlan Reeves, a stack of manila folders pressed tight against his chest. His laminated CIA Operations badge swung from his belt loop with every hurried step.
 
"Sir." Antoinne lowered his voice despite the empty corridor. "I think we should bring her back to clean this mess."
 
Reeves didn't slow down. "Bring who back?"
 
"Code 007, Wolfgang."
 
The director stopped walking. He turned around at an unhurried pace, seeming to weigh his next words before speaking.

Reeves looked at Antoinne for a long moment, then stepped close enough that Antoinne could smell the faint cedar from his jacket.
 
"Find her," Reeves said quietly. "Don't brief her over the phone. Find her, sit across from her, and put the file on the table. She handles this the way only she knows how."

He leaned closer to whisper. "And tell no one else."
 
Reeves turned and walked away without another word, while Antoinne stood alone in the corridor, the folders suddenly feeling much heavier in his hands.

︎︎ ︎︎︎︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎︎︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎︎︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎︎︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎︎︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎︎︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎︎︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎︎︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎︎︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎︎︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎︎︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎︎︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎︎︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎︎︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎︎︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎︎︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎︎︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎︎︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎︎︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎︎︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎︎︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎︎︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎︎︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎︎︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎︎︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎︎︎︎ ︎︎ㅤㅤㅤ