Devon stood behind the desk, his six-foot frame steady as granite, his eyes moving with the slow, deliberate precision of a surgeon assessing a critical patient. He took in each federal agent one by one, reading them like he read vital signs in the ER, where a single missed detail could mean death.
The biggest agent, a hulking figure with a scar slicing through his left eyebrow like a lightning bolt, shifted his weight awkwardly, his black suit straining against his broad shoulders. Sweat glistened on his forehead, betraying nerves despite the hospital's chilly air. Next to him stood a leaner man, all sharp angles and restless energy, his jaw twitching like a ticking bomb, fingers flexing and curling as if he was itching to throw a punch or draw a weapon. The youngest agent, barely old enough to look convincing in his stiff suit, kept glancing back at the corridor, his eyes darting with the skittish panic of a deer caught in headlights.
