Perched in the shadows of Latham's office, Matthias felt each minute stretch into eternity, his frustration mounting with every tick of the clock.
Latham spent the hours in endless phone conversations, none of which bore any relevance to Matthias's mission.
The incessant chatter, void of any mention of Matthias's target, grated on his nerves, amplifying his impatience.
It was as if Latham prided himself on his ability to avoid actual work, his voice a constant drone in the dimly lit room, punctuating the dullness of the wait.
<This is torture. Really, this a fucking torture!>
Matthias lamented internally, the irony not lost on him that his stakeout had devolved into a test of endurance against the banality of Latham's workday.
The phone rang again, a sharp, intrusive sound that cut through the room's silence.
<AGAIN?! >
Latham picked it up, his stern expression softening into a smile as he recognized the voice on the other end.