THE CSI HEADQUARTERS D.C.
3rd Person's Pov
The halls of the Central Strategic Intelligence headquarters were usually a symphony of controlled chaos, the hum of high-speed printers, the low murmur of agents discussing intercepted comms, and the sharp, rhythmic clicking of heels on polished linoleum. But today, the air in the bullpen felt stagnant, thick with the smell of scorched coffee and the crushing weight of a narrative that was falling apart.
Director Miller stood at the glass wall of his office, his hands clasped behind his back, looking down at the rows of cubicles. His eyes settled on a specific cluster of desks in the far corner.
