She sat down at her computer desk and opened her mail. The first thing she saw was Tre Spencer, last known location Manhattan, New York. She quickly scrolled to the bottom and there it was: those piercing golden brown eyes. It could not be, there had to be a mistake! She reached to place her glass on the desk but missed, and the glass fell to the floor spilling juice all over her Persian rug. At that moment she did not care and for a while it felt like she could not breathe. She grabbed her phone and dialed a number that was only used for emergencies, but to her this was an emergency.
“Is there a problem?” was the answer from the other end of the line
“So you got the information?”
“Yes. Who called this job?”
“You are not here to ask questions, just to do your job. When did you get so curious about our clients anyway?”
“I know we usually have high class targets and I have never heard about this person before.”
“Just do your job and get it done as quickly as possible. Time is of the essence.” Click. The line went dead. Cheryl sat there confused, a million thoughts rushing through her head at once. How could this be? It must be a mistake. Cheryl took up the phone and dialed a number that she rarely ever used but the phone just rang and rang. Then she heard, “This is Tre, you know what to do.” Beep.
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