Ficly

Two Weeks Earlier

Desmond was sitting by the pool at Hotel Paradisio, pretending to enjoy the newspaper when Matthew sat down at his table. Matthew was what people in the spy game – and everyone else, really – would call a prick. He was also Desmond’s handler.

“Catching up on the news there, slick?” Matthew said.

“You summoned me,” Desmond said. “I’m here.”

“Cutting to the chase, I like it.” Matthew said. “I’ve got it on authority that Visiono is about to make his big move. We’ve found a way for you to infiltrate his organization before his plan goes into motion. It’s all in the dossier. Study it. Memorize it. Burn it. Are we clear?”

Desmond folded the newspaper and placed it on his lap. Under the table, Matthew slipped the dossier inside the folded newspaper. “We’re clear,” Desmond said.

“Oh, and one other thing,” Matthew said, a smirk etched on his face. “Don’t mess it up this time. You can be replaced.”

“Go to hell,” Desmond said, before smacking him on the forehead with the rolled up newspaper. “Are we clear?”

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