Strange occurrences amongst the clutter of already-overflowing crime statuses struck the news within the committee of the MI6 team and had also seemed to show itself at a bad time considering it subtly slowed the progression in the restoration of the S.I.S. Building.
A new criminal dared to emit their presence upon the Mexican media and for good reason, it was bared as urgency within the London district. They had been managing to get the jump on several skilled secret service agents and took them down off the radar with seemingly no mercy before they could even take a chance at this mysterious and well-shadowed enemy and considering the skill and clear capability of the individual, this meant danger for the agency itself with a rising threat of more fatalities to count on the death toll.
Gareth Mallory or rather 'M' as he had been promoted to due to recent tragedies flicked through today's morning newspaper only to be met with a core-shaking discovery, a headline concerning the losses of three men and one woman in black, formal attire who had been found dead in the locations concerned with certain recent undercover crime events with clean bullet wounds through each one's chests with keen precision from that of what seemed to be a skilled killer.
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He felt his hands seize up in shock and he had momentarily lost the ability to keep the frail pages of inked paper within his digits, the stories fell onto his desk. Agency members heard the faint sound of this small commotion and while some didn't bother to question the boss' panic, others paced by the shabby and temporarily used room with a curious cock of an eyebrow. M cleared his throat towards the attention he was gathering from several members and quickly shuffled some items around.
"Uh, sorry. I just dropped something, no big deal. Continue with your work."
He commanded before watching the crowd disperse, he then got up out of his desk chair and pushed it with the back of his thighs out from behind him before circling around his desk and gripping the handle of his door. He took an uneasy breath and closed the door, shutting it with a click of confirmation. He returned back to his desk and rested his elbows on the surface of his waxed wooden desk, lowering his forehead to sit comfortably within the palm of his curled hands. He felt the overwhelming feeling that he could have done more, subtly blaming himself and feeling guilt for not having the power to prevent the loss of those agents' lives but during his moment of brooding he was interrupted by someone opening his door and entering,
"Hey M, just wondering about the job you wanted Bond to go to, the location of the smuggler was already blown and it seems some other criminals shot through and took him down for us before we had a chance to have a crack at it. Did you want us to go after their killers or-"
They were cut off by the dismissing wave of M's left hand.
"Forget about them. We have a bigger problem Ms. Moneypenny, there is new threat to our establishment and members."
