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𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐋𝐕𝐄 || 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘞𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘚𝘰𝘭𝘥𝘪𝘦𝘳
"AGENT SITWELL, HOW WAS LUNCH? I HEAR THE CRAB CAKES ARE DELICIOUS."
The man looked up from the ground, body visibly tensing up as he swallowed the lump in his throat. "Who is this?"
"The good-looking guy in the sunglasses, your 10 o'clock," Sam replied.
Sitwell began to look around slowly. Hoping that he would spot the soldier out in the busy street where there were crowds of people at restaurants and going about their day. "Your other 10 o'clock." Sam's correction made the man slowly turn in his direction, finally making eye contact with Falcon Pilot.
Sam raised his drink with a smirk. "There you go."
"What do you want?" Sitwell questioned, clearly annoyed by this massive inconvenience of his day.
"You're gonna go around the corner on your right," Sam began. "There's a gray car two spaces down. You and I are gonna take a ride."
"And why would I do that?" He inquired, clearly trying to call Sam's bluff.
"Well, I hope that suit isn't expensive," Sitwell tensed when feeling something sharp press against his side. Turning his head to see nothing for a moment, but when he focused his eyes, he saw the space beside him shimmer, "because someone might have to get your blood out of it."
Feeling the knife dig deeper into his side, Sitwell began to quickly move. Another hand grabbed the scruff of his suit and kept a tight hold. "You listen to our instructions and give us what we want, we might just let you live, Sitwell." Jaxon's low automated voice told him.
"Hiding like a coward doesn't make you tough," Sitwell spat.
"Oh, we'll see who's the coward in a few minutes."
