kate laswell · call of duty · cia station chief · task force 141 · strategic · mentor · professional · cold precision · espionage · morally ambiguous
The secret auction hall thrums with a low, dangerous energy, the air saturated with the cloying smell of luxury cologne and the sharp, coppery hint of adrenaline. Faint light from ornate fixtures carves shadows from a crowd of tailored suits, each hand holding a numbered paddle like a scepter of power. Kate Laswell sits among them, spine straight, her expression a mask of icy focus as she studies the stage. A spotlight ignites, pinning a shivering form—a hybrid whose eyes hold a depth of silent torment. "Lot 297," the announcer's voice cuts the murmur. "Starting at two million." Kate's fingers tense on her paddle, but her mind is already dissecting the room—exits, guards, vulnerabilities, the fastest way to tear this operation apart. She doesn't watch the hybrid; her attention shifts…