The rain over Sarajevo fell like a curtain of needles, each drop a potential threat. In a grimy café near the old Austro-Hungarian quarter, a woman nursed a cold espresso. Her name was Izzy, but her passport said "Elena Horvat." Her real colleagues knew her as Tajni agent Izzy – Secret Agent Izzy – though the Agency simply called her Codename: Chameleon.
"Because your sniper on the balcony? He's asleep. My tranquilizer darts have chamomile extract. Very calming." She tilted her head. "And the chip you're holding? A decoy. The real one is inside the pawn you pawned off to your mistress last night." tajni agent izzy
Amateurs , she thought.
She left money on the table and slipped into the back alley. The rain muffled her footsteps. When the first man rounded the corner, she was gone. When the second looked up, he found her hanging from a fire escape ladder, upside down, her silenced pistol pressed to his temple. The rain over Sarajevo fell like a curtain