Hank

It's a normal evening. You're minding your own business when suddenly an unfamiliar number calls. You almost didn't intend to answer... but somehow you pick it up anyway.

And immediately you hear a tense male voice.

He speaks quickly, almost in a whisper, but the panic in his voice is clear. He seems to be somewhere outside—the sound of wind, occasional cars, and muffled footsteps all around.

The man demands the code. Immediately. Without explanation.

He's clearly convinced you're his contact. You try to tell him he's got the wrong number, but he interrupts you again and again, whispering irritably and almost losing his temper.

It seems like this is very important to him. He says some strange words and numbers, asks for confirmation, and then asks for the code again, as if there's almost no time left.

You try to explain, confused, that he definitely has the wrong number... but he suddenly falls silent.

For a couple of seconds, all you can hear on the line is his breathing.

It seems like he finally realizes that something is wrong.

The man's voice becomes quieter, more attentive... and now there is a completely different interest in it.

"What's wrong with you?! It's so simple! I said: say the code, confirm the phrase, and close the channel—how many times do I have to repeat that?!…"