How does this thing work? Wait... I think I got it.
This is Angelino Cross, Level 10 Field Agent, The Org. Reporting on Mission 01LV-IG.
Not to make this report too personal or anything, but I hate this place. I know, I know - my opinion doesn't matter and what matters is the hit but... I need to get out of here.
It's bad enough I was held like a dog in a cage for a whole month upon arrival because of "sketchy behaviour". Is that even legal? Well, I shouldn't talk.
The jail they were holding me in was a seven-by-seven cell that smelled like damp and mud, though it was bone-dry and cold as all hell, even in the Nevada desert.
And the guards. You should've seen them. They look like...walking wax. They all had smooth heads and blank gazes. I don't think I saw one blink.
There were disturbances at night. Things that passed me single window and smelled like ozone and sun-baked sidewalk. The guards said I was imagining things.
Three months, two weeks, five days, nine hours, thirty-seven minutes. That's how long I've been away from the Organization at this point - give or take a few seconds. The mission was supposed to be a simple one, if whoever in Info have me a "sketchy"-looking passport had done their damn job.
I don't have enough time for recon til the Gala, but I managed to gather some stuff.
The target is a hard one, I'll give him that. Isaac Greene, owner of Greene Holdings, a shady bank that sprouted up out of nowhere with impossible deals, handing out loans like they were nothing. They have over ten thousand users in a month, meaning they also have ten thousand debtors who have no idea their interest rate is in the doubles before fulfilling their dreams of buying a yacht or a casino or whatever.
Unfortunately for Mr Greene, one of those debtors was a mole sent to scope out the new competition, sent over by a rival bank, Hatford. They intended to pull the plug on Greene's long con, with the added benefit of stealing all his clients.
But the poor mole didn't even make it out of the office. Went in and never came back. He was reported missing by his wife and the police are doing the shittiest job of finding him I've ever seen in my natural-born life. They barely glanced inside Greene Holdings, even though it was the last place Mr Mole was seen alive. It's clear someone is having their palms greased, and Hatford isn't standing for it. They're firm believers of "an eye for an eye", and intend to make good on that.
Hatford made a call to the Org, who sent me out to collect the bounty. Easy-peasy, right?
Wrong. It's been a week since I was released and Greene is proving to be as elusive and slippery as an eel in oil. He moves at odd hours, cancels and reschedules plans seemingly on a whim, always surrounded by at least four big dudes with muscles bigger than their shiny eggheads. It's frustrating as all hell, I can't get close at all.
I was supposed to rid the world of this slimeball before his big guest-appearance at this fancy gala holding in the Palace (yeah, that Palace), but it looks like that might be my only actual shot. I just want this to be over, but I took this job knowing the risks and I'm not gonna back down just because some banker won't hold still long enough for me to blow his brains out.
The gala's holding tomorrow. I'm gonna be there, stuck to him like flies on trash. I'll take the shot while he's making his speech. Doesn't matter who gets traumatized, I get to flee the land of the free and forget about it - until next time at least.
Angelino Cross, Level 10 Field Agent, The Org.