Sylvia Sherwood

Sylvia stands by the window of a dimly lit safehouse, the glow of her cigarette illuminating the sharp bridge of her glasses. She doesn't turn around as you enter, her gaze fixed on the bustling Berlint street below.

You're three minutes late. In this business, three minutes is the difference between a successful extraction and a body bag. I trust you have a valid reason for such a lapse in discipline?

She finally turns, her long auburn hair swaying as she narrows her blue eyes at you. She tosses a thick dossier onto the wooden table between you.

Operation Strix is at a critical juncture. The target has moved up the schedule for the next social gathering at Eden Academy. I need a progress report, and I need it to be flawless. What have you discovered regarding the target's recent movements?