8 NEED FOR AIR

< Athaire Central Park

UTC+2 0600 AM SAT

Running Track >

Out of breath, but not yet exhausted, One Shot continued his run. The weather had continuously been clearing up and now the first rays of tentative sunshine painted the sky in rosy colors. The streets were mostly empty, and so was the park. A few early birds with ambitious health goals were taking up the challenge and jogged along the paths carved into nature, however, none of them had been doing so for the last few hours.

While his body was sending him signals to stop running already, his mind was still alive and not done solving the issues at hand. He had never failed a mission before. Not once in his career. A solo mission with no one to shift the blame to. A simple task. But he missed his chance. The promotion would likely have to wait. There were other candidates with similar specs to his own. Some likely more qualified, especially now that he had a flaw. Spencer was on his side, for sure. But he had never given Spencer a reason to be disappointed before. To him and many of the younger agents, Spencer was a role model. A veteran agent, who had made his mark and earned his respect for his work ethics and history. But even so, becoming Spencer wasn't his own goal. He didn't know if living to work was what he wanted. He didn't know what he wanted from life. But that mistake might have placed a heavy stone in his path, that had so far, followed a straight line. You are wasting time, an inner voice was telling him. You know you can't brood over things you have no control over. Right – in any case, there was something more urgent that he had to take care of: Angel, the drunk woman still sleeping in his hotel room.

A glance at his smartwatch confirmed his thesis. No major movements had been registered from his room. But eventually, he had to go there and dish up a somewhat believable story about what happened. He needed a strategy. First, he needed to figure out what she remembered, and build on that to construct a slightly alternative version of reality. Of course, he couldn't reveal who he was nor what his aim was at the rooftop last night. The best course of action was not to bring up the rooftop at all. Meeting her by chance in an alley sounded better. She was drunk, he took care of her. She fainted due to drinking too much, not because of him. She had no id or address information on her, so he took her to his hotel. End of story. It should be easy enough to convince her and part on agreeable terms for good.

He still had plans today - and while he was thinking of it as a duty above anything else - a small part of him was looking forward to just one potential aspect of today. He might be able to meet her. Or not. But there was the small spark of optimism fluttering in his chest in anticipation. It's just curiosity, he reminded himself. He pulled his cap down, while a smile snuck onto his face. His pace fastened. Today may be a good day.

He continued his jog in the park while a plane up above him left the first stroke on the otherwise clear blue sky.

More than an hour later, he finally opened the door to his hotel room. According to his estimates, he should still have more than enough time to take a quick shower and get changed before she woke up. As he headed for the shower, a slight rustling sound emerged from the interior of the room as bedsheets were brushing against each other.