As the two of you make your way down through the labyrinthine offices of the department, you try to strike up a conversation.
"Miss Hensley sounds a little formal," you begin earnestly. "If we're going to be working together on an undercover operation, perhaps we should be on first name terms?"
"Oh, I don't think that there'll be much need for that, Jack," she replies. "After all, I'm only your ticket in and out; you'll be in so deep that you won't be able to contact me anyway."
You are midway through the process of coming up with one of your trademark witty retorts when you finally arrive at your destination. The department's underground car park is like a motorhead's wet dream. Top range vehicles in tip-top condition in serried ranks, many of them even sporting hidden extras to give them the edge in the event of a chase.
"So, which is your sporty little number?" you ask.
"That one."
Your face falls as you see that Miss Hensley's car appears to be a clapped-out piece of junk. The fact that it has four wheels seems to be the only detail that relates it in any way to its sleeker brethren parked either side. It's not even coloured well; a drab brown.
"Low key, remember," she says.
"Sure," you mumble. This mission is certainly a come-down from your usual glamorous assignments. It's almost like they expect the 'secret' part of the job description 'secret agent' to mean something!
You slide into the passenger seat as Miss Hensley starts it up.
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