"Finnegan?" Owen asked, as the man walked into his office.
"At your service." Finnegan said.
"How did you-"
"Please. Do you really think some USJR bumpkin could kill me that easily. I'm insulted." he smirked as he poured a glass of whiskey.
"So, you heard about Julia?" Owen asked, happy his best agent was alive.
"Of course I did. I knew what she was up to ages ago." Finnegan said. After a second, he added. "Wolf was a good man second only to the Ceannaire. Not you. The other one."
"I want her dead," Owen said. "Wolf was like a father, or brother, to me. We didn't always see eye to eye, but he did not deserve death by some whiny little bourgeois brat. Can you do that?"
"Well, I'm a little rusty at espionage. But yeah. I can do that. I just need supplies, and a way in." Finnegan smirked.



