In the dimly lit expanse of his home office, Benjamin Prescott's smoldering anger continued to consume him. He recognized the inadequacy of his immediate resources to address the dire situation he faced. With desperation driving him, he turned to a more sinister solution, one that relied on his membership with the Syndicate Union. Fully aware of the limitations of his membership rank, he understood that securing the services to eliminate Daniel required the influence of a higher-ranking operative. His options were constrained, but he had to make do.
Releasing a heavy sigh, Prescott dialed the Syndicate Union's contact number. Swiftly, the call connected, and a voice marked by professionalism answered, its tone neutral as if attending to any ordinary customer inquiry.
"This is the operator speaking. How may I assist you today?" the voice inquired, its professionalism unwavering.
