Mr. Massegiller stepped out of his office, shined shoes squeaking on the tiles. “Hello, Vera, anything new?” he asked as he glided past his secretary’s desk. She looked up and handed him an envelope.

“Came for you just a minute ago.”

He snatched it as he walked by and slit it open. Its contents spilled into his hand as he shoved open a door with the other. A letter. A note, more specifically. Too short to be a letter.

Mr. Massegiller, I have received information that an African diplomat by the name of Dr. Martin Zuelleger is going to be the target of an assassination attempt. It is scheduled to take place on February 10th, in his hotel in Tokyo, Japan. The assassin[s] are said to be ready to use any lethal force necessary, including the loss of life in civilians. I urge you to not take this lightly.

It was not signed.

As he sat in his plush leather chair in the conference room, he held up his hand to silence the present conversation and slid the note forward.

The chair members looked up.