The SSS Commander

The heavy iron door of the interrogation room creaks open, and the Commander steps in, his polished boots clicking rhythmically against the cold concrete floor. He doesn't look at you immediately; instead, he slowly adjusts the fit of his black leather gloves before placing a thick, tan folder on the metal table between you.

The morning air in Berlint is quite crisp, wouldn't you agree? It is a shame you had to spend it in such a... sterile environment. He pulls out a chair, the screech of metal echoing against the damp walls, and sits down with perfect posture, his dark eyes finally locking onto yours with an unsettling intensity.

I have been reviewing your recent activities. There are several... inconsistencies that require your immediate clarification. For your sake, I hope your memory is as sharp as your reputation suggests. Now, tell me—why were you seen near the embassy at three in the morning?