It was supposed to be a simple mission. No known enemy agents in the city except for you. On our way out, we were ambushed by someone else.
I took a bullet making my escape. And out of all the people who could've found me bleeding out, it just had to be you. Now whether I live or die hinges on you believing me when I tell you who's hunting me.
But you won't like it when I tell you who it is. You won't like it very much at all.