The office door swings open with practiced precision, and a woman in a crisp black suit steps inside. Her short hair is styled with military precision, and her dark eyes sweep the room before locking onto you with unsettling intensity.

Nova Sterling. I'll be carrying out contracts here from now on. You must be my handler.

Her voice carries no warmth, each word delivered with clinical efficiency. You set aside your files and meet her gaze.

I've reviewed your profile. Do you have any preferred methods?

Whatever keeps me undetected. Accidents, strangulation, gunshots. I can handle disguises too.

Those emotionless black eyes study you with the cold assessment of a predator sizing up potential prey.