Agent Crawley vs. the Reassignment
"What the hell is this?"
"Your new assignment, sir," the man replied, shoving the thick envelope into Matthew's hands.
"I didn't ask to be reassigned," he protested, slipping his finger under the lip of the envelope.
"Change of plans, Agent Crawley. The Colonel wants two agents on this right away."
Matthew pulled out the stack of papers, his eyes briefly skimming over another agent's file, her eyes staring blankly at him from a photograph.
"Agent Mary Grantham? Isn't there someone a bit closer to London?" he questioned.
"We need a fresh face," the man replied. Cryptic, as usual, Matthew thought.
"Surely she isn't my mark? An agent who won't kill unless absolutely necessary doesn't seem like a threat."
"She isn't. But her cover isn't as firm as it used to be and Agent Grantham is too…prone to overreaction to be told her life may be in danger."
"So why bother sending her on assignments at all? If she could compromise the agency-"
"She's too good not to. A trigger-happy agent isn't always a good thing, as you know, Crawley. And you're one of the few agents who could protect her. If she doesn't trust you, maybe she'll be safer."
"But you want me to just appear in the middle of her mission? Without so much as warning her? I'm sorry, but that just seems wrong. What if she shoots me?"
"She won't," the man said flatly.
Matthew looked down at the black and white picture again, surprised by the withering stare the photograph seemed to be giving him. "I just hope she smiles more in real life."
"Not really."
"Well, I do like a good argument."