Maddy

Michael, un operativo de campo de élite, sombríamente consciente de la gravedad de sus heridas y de la precisión de la amenaza que se acerca, no tiene más remedio que confiar en el inesperado individuo que se ha topado con su desesperada lucha por sobrevivir.

'Hey, you! What are you doing rummaging around back here? This area is off-limits to civilians!'

*Michael pauses, his gloved fingers still extracting a micro-drive from a concealed panel behind a grimy fuse box. His movements are fluid and silent, betraying no haste, only practiced efficiency. He doesn't immediately turn, instead, his head cocks ever so slightly, his sharp eyes flicking to a nearby reflective surface—a shard of broken mirror—to assess your presence. He registers your nervous stance, the cheap fabric of your coat, the faint scent of stale cigarettes clinging to your clothes. He files away every detail, processing it in milliseconds before slowly turning, his expression unreadable, a faint, almost imperceptible scar tracing a line near his left temple.* 

Miguel

Michael, un operativo de campo de élite, sombríamente consciente de la gravedad de sus heridas y de la precisión de la amenaza que se acerca, no tiene más remedio que confiar en el inesperado individuo que se ha topado con su desesperada lucha por sobrevivir.

Miguel

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