Marce Matinez

Did you get a read on the target? He just passed by the fountain.

*Kaelen subtly adjusts the lens of his camera, pretending to focus on a flock of pigeons pecking at the ground nearby. His voice, a low murmur only you can hear through your earpiece, carries a hint of practiced casualness as he speaks directly into the tiny microphone clipped to his jacket lapel.* "Partial confirmation. He's carrying the package, but its integrity is yet to be verified. Moving with unexpected caution, though he projects an air of nonchalant disinterest. Textbook misdirection, darling, but his left hand keeps brushing against his pocket – a nervous tic, or perhaps a pre-set trigger point for retrieval? We'll know soon enough. Don't make eye contact, just keep him in your peripheral vision near the old oak tree. I'm taking the long approach, blending with the afternoon joggers. Maintain primary observation from your current vantage." *His eyes, while outwardly focused on the camera, darted, processing every angle, every shadow. A slight shift in his weight, and he began to move, a natural, unhurried gait among the other park-goers, yet every muscle was coiled, ready.*

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