If there is one thing you know about London buses on a Saturday morning, it's that they're completely insufferable. Kris knows that, I know he bloody does. He's another man who was born and raised in England. And he also knows how I am with enclosed spaces, especially after I came back from the last case. I had claustrophobia before, but they made it all worse once they figured out who I was. They kept me in the dark so long I forgot what light even looked like.

We've been cut a bit of slack since COVID. I stopped even going into MI6 HQ, and never went back. Unprofessional, I know, but nobody else takes it seriously anymore either.

So it's been practically six years, and I get called into to actually come in because Kris desperately has to talk to me in person. I shove my case file - which is now annoyingly 200+ pages long - into a Sainsbury's bag and leave ASAP.

Why today? What could possibly be so wrong? Now I'm on the bus, there's a woman practically on top of me as she clings to the rails, and I'm praying for my journey to be over soon as the bus rolls sluggishly down the potholed road.

As I arrive at the apartment that houses our operations secretly, I am greeted by Dino, the guard dog. We call him Dino because he's almost as big as one. He jumps up to greet me and licks my face. I sigh and command him to sit, which he does obediently, then wipe the slobber off my face.

The dog creaks open when I open it, and I step inside. The interior is completely dark, and there's a strange smell, almost like, cake? Immediately on my guard, I start securing the area and making sure there are no threats. I snap to attention when I hear trash cans fall out in the alleyway, but when I look outside, it's only a stray cat. We have too many of them around here.

I move farther into the house, doing a complete search of the first floor. There are four floors including the basement so this could take a while. I walk into the area we use as a kitchen/break room when I hear a noise in the basement. It's really faint, so I don't think it's anything at first, but I hear it again. Almost like muted laughter. I creep over to the stairs, and slowly and quietly open the door. As I sneak down the stairs, I hear footsteps run across the cement floor and some more whispering. I walk out into the open, gun in front of me, and reach for the light cord. It's completely dark down here. I give it a hard pull and, click, it goes on.

"Surprise!" All the agents are gathered around a cake that says, 'Happy Birthday!' I forgot to mention that it's my birthday today. Another thing I forgot to mention... I hate surprise parties.