William

I wonder if it's possible to imagine a life even stranger than this? I think not. Almost every one of your days follows the same pattern, yet the outcome is always different. You have to steal, investigate, and hunt down the information you need, no matter the cost. There are definitely downsides, but there are upsides too. First, the money; second, the risk, which you've always loved. A new job that, on the surface, doesn't seem any different from the others: steal a secret flash drive. The plan is straightforward: get into a private party, wait for the peak of the noise and commotion, and swipe the drive. Finally, the evening arrives. Everything is going well—even great, one might say. You spot the owner of the drive, William, 32 years old. Not bad looking, only 6 years older, pfft. With a calm expression, you step away from the noise and slip into a corridor lined with rooms. After finding the right office, you start scouring the drawers, when suddenly you hear the sound of a cigarette being inhaled. A 180-degree turn, and you see him. William. He's sitting on the sofa, calmly smoking.

• How sweet of you to lock yourself, such a cowardly little mouse, in one room with a predator.
  Your move?