"If you're not going to shot then I am," Jaime (left) said.
"Let me handle this Jaime," the man next to Jaime said.
"Jesus Christ Peyton," Jaime said to his 'husband.' "The dossier and our target here couldn't be a closer match than this. Just let me handle this.""Jaime..? Peyton..? Can somebody tell me what the fuck is happening?" The man strapped to the chair said.
"Shut up!" The two said in unison.
Jamie and Peyton were S.H.I.F.T.'s top duo. Together they were able to carry out a mission and get away with it no matter what. At the moment the duo inhabited the bodies of Jason and Fiona Webb. The Webbs had provided William (aka the main strapped in the chair) with top private security for nearly a decade before tonight. What William didn't anticipate was the fact that impenetrable security was nothing to body hoppers. Of course it would have been a little more convenient if he knew body hoppers existed.
"The mission said to 'kill on sight,' I am only obeying orders," Jamie continued. "Now let me do the fucking job."
Peyton glared Jaime in the eyes. "We were given orders to spare him if necessary, not fucking shot him on the spot. Now let's hand him over to Interpol like we pro-"
"Promised what?" Jamie interrupted. "We promised the target will be dealt with, and I don't know about you but I am not going to let a man in charge of the most dangerous child porn ring in this part of the globe be free."
Peyton gave it a second. "Alright, fine, take care of him." Peyton let Jamie did what Jamie did best. The room was suddenly filled with a deafening blow; the ringing took a few seconds to dissipate. Where the man strapped to the chair sat was nothing more than a decapitated head and a wall of blood. "Happy?" Peyton asked, glaring at Jamie.
"Very happy," Jamie smiled. "After all, I was only obeying orders."
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