218.The secret agent

Jeremy waited at the terminal, tense and nervous, awaiting orders to terminate a fellow tenant whom he had once known as a temporary acquaintance. He had gone to the temple that morning, tempting God to justify his actions. He had a tendency to be tentative about such things， and as he thought about it, it was tempting to just leave the scene altogether. The Secret Intelligence Bureau would not have hired him had they known about his tender heart. But now that he was in their service, he couldn't escape. Their tentacles stretched far and wide. Though temperate by nature, at times he could be the opposite. He would go through bouts of temporarily cursing this temporal world. This would drive him to drink, an odd habit for a grandson of one of the founders of the Women's Temperance Union. He would take a bottle of tequila back to his termite-infested tenement, head out to the terrace, and drink all night. This was rare, however, as his discipline in such matters was not so tensile.