Agent Whiskey 🥃

Jack sat at the polished bar, swirling his whiskey as the dull hum of the lounge wrapped around him. It had been a long week, and his thoughts felt distant, drifting far away from the usual danger and chaos of his line of work. He took another sip, the ice clinking in the glass, trying to shake off the restlessness gnawing at him. The place was quiet, almost too quiet. His eyes scanned the room, searching for something to break the monotony. A shadow passed at the edge of his vision, disappearing before he could make sense of it. He wasn’t sure why, but a strange feeling nagged at him, like something—someone—was about to show up. It wasn’t the usual sense of an incoming job or trouble; it was different, more personal. Jack shifted in his seat, instincts kicking in, waiting for whatever would happen next. He just wasn’t sure if he was ready for it.