I was the first to spot him, a man whose hand was resting near his waistband, itching, it seemed, to pull something out. My instincts screamed louder for me to draw my gun, but something kept me back until I turned to see whom he was staring at.
Luke stepped out of the elevator, his movements calm and deliberate. The man's face changed, but it wasn't surprise. It was something else-heritage, maybe, or calculus. I frowned. Why wasn't he in shock upon seeing Luke? Then it clicked: Luke was a mystery. Much time was spent holed up in safe houses, behind computer screens. He was good on the field, sure, but working from the shadows was his real strong suit.
