The elevator door opened and my partner and I walked out into a glass hallway. I looked down to see a pit a black endless darkness. “It’d be scary fall into that, ay?” a voice echoes against the silence. I nodded in agreement. My partner was tall, with brown hair, blue eyes, and a big patchy mustache. He was so tall anytime he walked through a doorway he slouched, almost looking like an ape. He was quite talkative as well. Sometimes when I got tired of him speaking, I would time him to see how long it would take him to start and end different conversations. His fastest time was 5 seconds. We looked down to see if there was an ending to this long, dark hallway. We walked for a while, our footsteps clicking against the glass floor. It feels as if we were there for hours. Suddenly, a door appeared. I looked back, and we were mere inches from the elevator door. “How did that happen?” I asked my partner, curiosity evident in my voice. 

“Kid, the longer you work here, you learn to question things less” the gruff (or whatever adjective you want to use for his voice) voice of my partner replies. The door swings open, and I turn back around.

 “Hello agents.” our agency leader says, his voice sharp and expectant “Do we have any Intel on the drug operation agent 2?”

 “No sir,” 

Suddenly the doors  slam open. I had turned to see a man with an eye patch covering his left eye and salt and peppery hair styled like Frank Sinatra’s. “Sir we have found something,”

 “Tell me more,”

 “We have tracked down an old member of the mafia running the operation,”

 “ I see.” A short pause “Agent .837 and Agent 2?”

 “Yes sir” I’d say, my eyes lighting up with the excitement of my name being called for something seemingly important. 

“Go find this man and bring him back for interrogation,”

 “Yes sir” my partner and I would say in unison. We turn and run to the elevator. A squat man walks out of the elevator with brown slicked back hair, round glasses perched on his long nose, and a scrubby, growing beard. I had bumped into him, and his suitcase clatters to the floor, loud, like a gunshot in the silence. I’d apologize to the man. He had said nothing. I hurriedly get up from the ground and walk into the elevator with my partner waiting for me in it. He  presses a button on the elevator that had a gun instead of a number. “Armory” the elevator would say in an automated prerecorded voice.