<strong>Ed's Gym, Mitch's Office</strong><br/><br/>It didn't escape Alan that he was in a very small room with a professional killer, and thirty witnesses outside who would willingly swear that he'd never walked into the place. He gave no appearance of being rattled, however, sinking easily into the second-hand office chair opposite the desk.<br/><br/>"Ten minutes should be sufficient. My pitch will take five, which leaves you four minutes to consider and one to accept. You know Andreana. She's working for me."<em>With me, for me.</em>The distinction wasn't worth explaining at the moment. "She says that you're the best, and I concur. The job may take several weeks, all here in London. No guns, but violence is almost assured. It pays less than your usual rate, but more than you're making here, and we have a hacker to make the payments untraceable so you won't have to launder the cash."<em>We have, will have.</em>"You'll be working undercover; I'm told that Irish accent can be suppressed, but if not then we can work around it."<br/><br/>His phone was out of his pocket. He slid it across the pockmarked surface of the desk so that Chase could clearly see the photo being displayed. "Her name is Sophia, and our job is to stop the people who are trying to make her an orphan. If that doesn't matter to you, then I don't want you on my team."<br/><br/>"My name is Alan Blackwood, and I am the smartest man you have ever met. But I do make mistakes. We have six minutes left."<br/>