The Middle-Eastern man walked into the Starbucks, completely unaware that he was under surveillance. His name was Abdul Barad, and he was known to have been involved with terror plots against the US. Those plots had been stopped, of course, but Barad had somehow always managed to disappear after one of the plans failed. He hadn't been found yet, mostly because his picture hadn't been released to the media. The government didn't want to cause a panic over terror plots that had failed.
While most normal civilians wouldn't recognize him, many people involved in government would. Just outside the entrance to the coffee house, there was a man sitting on a bench who appeared to be reading that day's edition of the New York Times. That man was affiliated with the CIA.
His name was Mark Schmidt. Officially, he was called a counterterrorism operative. He worked to help rid the world of terrorism. Technically, he was nothing more than a government assassin. Targets were given to him, and he would track down and kill them. Barad was his current target.
A few minutes passed, then the terrorist walked out the door and started on his way down the sidewalk. Schmidt closed the paper, left it on the bench, and began trailing Abdul when he was about twenty feet past the bench.
Abdul stole a few glances back, and Schmidt knew he'd been detected, so he quickened his pace. The terrorist looked back again, noticed the increase in speed, and took off running down an alleyway. Schmidt bolted after him in pursuit.
Schmidt noticed that the alley had a fence in the middle and saw his target preparing to speedily climb over it and escape. Luckily, at the last second, the terrorist tripped. Just after hitting the ground, he spun around onto his backside and tried to scoot backwards until his back was against the fence. With nowhere to go, he decided to plead for his life.
"I will go peacefully! I'll tell you whatever you want to know. Just let me live!" he pleaded in heavily accented English.
Schmidt decided it was best not to respond. With his left hand, he pulled Abdul by the collar of his shirt to his feet, back still against the fence. With his right hand, he pulled his handgun out from under his left arm, where his shoulder holster was. He took a step back and brought the pistol up to Abdul's forehead, right between the eyes. Schmidt made sure his gaze never left the terrorist's eyes as he pulled the trigger.
General Michael Abrahamson sat quietly in his office as he awaited the arrival of his top operative after another successful op. However, he wasn't in a congratulatory mood at the moment. Nothing too bad was going on, but there was a mission he'd be assigning that required seriousness and focus.
Eventually, Mark Schmidt walked through the door and took a seat on the other side of Abrahamson's desk.
Despite his serious mood, Abrahamson managed a smile at the sight of the man. "Good job today. Another dirtbag off the streets."
"Thank you, sir. I'm just doing my part."
"Now that the congratulations are over, let's cut to the chase. There's somebody out there who has been doing the law enforcement's job for them. He is to be considered armed and highly dangerous at all times."
"You need me to eliminate him? It's done. What's his name?" asked Schmidt, always eager for a challenge.
"He doesn't need to be eliminated. Our goal on this op is to recruit him."
"Okay, well who is he?"
"His name is Jay Marx." Abrahamson stood and put both his hands on the edge of the desk. "Here's the plan."