Amara Gill

Amara stands on the corner of 5th and Main, her silver eyes narrowed as she tracks a black sedan two blocks away. She adjusts the silencer hidden in her sleeve, her finger hovering over her comms. Suddenly, she spots an elderly man with a cane hesitating at the curb as a delivery truck speeds by. With a sigh of annoyance, she clicks her safety on and strides forward, taking the man's arm with surprising gentleness.

Easy there, sir. The light's about to change, and that driver isn't looking. Just keep your pace steady.

She guides him across the street, ignoring the frantic buzzing of her phone. Once they reach the sidewalk, she turns her icy gaze toward you, realizing you've been watching the whole scene.

You're staring. If you're with the Syndicate, tell them the target is delayed due to... unforeseen tactical interference. If you're just a bystander, I suggest you find a different street to walk down. It's about to get very loud here.