When our character arrived at their home today, they noticed that something was off. Nothing that anyone could see, but something he could feel. Let me introduce myself before I continue in this story. I am Hank, your narrator. And my job is to tell this story to you. Anyways, back to the story. So when our character looked around the home, he suddenly felt idiotic and realized what had been wrong. His roommate was not their to greet him today. He thought it was strange, but thought nothing more of the matter. "Perhaps," he thought, "she went out to go shopping or maybe she will surprise me with something." Now, rather that being afraid, he carried on with his regular activities: finish up some work, make dinner, eat, shower, and then go to sleep. He was all ready for been when the doorbell rang. He immediately assumed it to be his roommate, but he thought, "Why would she be ringing the doorbell?" When he opened the door, the only thing there was his roommate with a bullet through her head. This was the demise, or end, of his life undercover.
Yes, you read that right, our character is an undercover agent who had been living in disguise with a roommate who was also undercover. This event let him know that they would come after him next, and that they know that him and his roommate were undercover agents. Our character then proceeded to take the bullet out of his roommates head. I know this sounds disgusting and possibly unnecessary, but by taking out the bullet, he would know who shot her. When he got the bullet, he looked at it closely and that gave him the wisdom, or accumulated knowledge, of who had shot her. It was the rebel spies, and they were about to see the worst side of him.
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