Cancerous vapor fills my lungs as I take another deep drag of my cigarette. The smoke wafts towards an open skylight, at odds with the sunlight streaming through the broken glass. Glass shards litter the floor, intermixed with blood. I pull the shell catcher off my weapon and place it in my pocket with a soft, metallic ring.

I look around at the bullet ridden bodies littering the floor and shake my head. The only other living thing in the room, a woman standing across from me, chuckles softly and gives me a sinister grin. I pull the cigarette away from my mouth and sigh again.

“Obviously you know me.” I say warily. She replies with a nod.
“So then you must know that I work alone.” I finish. Somehow, I can feel that’s not going to be the end of it.

The woman chuckles again and spreads her hands expectantly towards the bodies laying on floor in various gruesome poses.
“I think you can make an exception.”
With that, she tosses me a cell phone and turns to leave.
God-dammit.

I hate teamwork. Too messy.