Agent 47 stood in Pietr Markov's suite at a compound in Iran, fingering through a vintage record collection in search of the scientist's notebook. Markov, a young, slim Russian with a shock of white-blond hair, sat slumped, unconscious, in his padded desk chair. In a twist, Agent 47 had been tasked with obtaining Markov's notes for the Russian government.
Logic would have dictated that the notebook would be kept in the high class safe set in the floor behind Markov's desk. But scientists were a paranoid bunch, and guarded their work with more zealotry than the biggest state secrets. The safe would be the first place any normal person would look.
Agent 47 had checked the safe anyway, to be certain, before systematically searching the suite for the notebook. Agent 47 was tall, blue eyed, and bald with a bar code tattooed on the back of his head, currently hidden by a head scarf. He wore local dress so that he wouldn't immediately stand out. The mission had required sneaking into the compound unseen, and disguise helped with that regard.
Sadly, Agent 47 couldn't entice the location of the notebook from a loyal, dewy-eyed lab assistant and remain unnoticed. Instead, he methodically made his way through the suite, checking in, under, and through every piece of furniture and Markov's belongings. The suite had three rooms: a bedroom, a bathroom, and a living room. Dining took place at the compound's mess hall. The bedroom, with its double bed and chest of drawers, and small, three-piece bathroom, had come up empty. The living room held a desk, bookshelves packed with books and LPs, a record player balanced on a single speaker, an ugly, orange love seat and a floor lamp. A ceiling fan wafted overhead.
A noise in the hall outside Markov's suite sent Agent 47 into the shadows of the bathroom. Anyone coming in would see Markov "asleep" at his desk, and he could be easily awakened by a vigorous shaking. He might recall being injected by a sedative from behind, but likely not. Most who'd been put out of commission in that fashion simply thought they'd been bit by a bug.
The noise did not repeat, and no one entered. From his position in the bathroom, Agent 47 could clearly see Markov seated in his chair. Though Agent 47 hadn't finished going through the record collection, he'd searched the rest of the suite thoroughly - except for Markov's chair.
Agent 47 waited a little longer, to ensure safety, before emerging from the bathroom. He went directly to Markov. Careful not to jostle Markov too much, Agent 47 shifted him from the chair to drape across the desk. Within moments, Agent 47 had Markov's notebook in hand, taking from its hiding place inside the cushioned desk chair.
Agent 47 tucked the notebook beneath his shirt, reseated Markov, and did a scan of the room to ensure everything was back in its place. Satisfied, he slipped into the bedroom and out the window, as if he were never there.