The cigarette-smoking man took a long drag and exhaled slowly. Was it possible? Could they have found him? He had to be sure.
He sat down and retraced his steps carefully. He'd gotten up a little later than usual and gone to get the morning paper as usual. It was until he was on his way to 'the place' that he noticed people were looking at him.
Maybe they were all spies? It seemed possible. They could be working for those do-gooders 'Fox' and 'Dana'. CSM snorted, those weren't real names! He put out his cigarette in the ash tray and crammed another into his mouth, lighting it quickly.
As CSM got more worried he began to pace the room anxiously. Enough. He pushed the button for the intercom…then realised he didn't have one. "Hey Alex! Get your butt in here!"
Krychek strolled in staring at CSM for some unfathomable reason.
"What are you gawking at? We have a crisis on our hands!"
"Yes…yes, we do."
"You knew already why didn't you say anything?!"
"I only just…"
"Be quiet! What do you know about the spies?"
"Spies? What spies?"
"You said you knew… what are you looking at?!"
"Why aren't you wearing pants?"
CSM looked down, "son of a…"
