#lester.

Work never ended for poor Daken, who sat comfortably in his hotel bathrobe, sifting through a file on an enemy organization’s ridiculously secure safe house. Diagrams of the movements of the guards, camera positions, and the architecture of the building weren’t helping; they were just confirming what he feared to be true, the place was impenetrable. With a sigh, he took another sip of his brandy. He was missing something, he just knew it. Frustrated, the mutant tossed the documents onto the foot of the bed and fell back onto the pillows, not spilling a drop of his beverage.