Every story is the same, it's just told different.
EXT. CHICAGO, DAY
A man, ACHILLES, stands on the L-train platform, smoking a cigarette and clutching a briefcase. ACHILLES throws his cigarette on the tracks as another man, HECTOR, approaches, clutching a briefcase. They stand side by side, not looking at one another.
It's over, you know.
Yes, yes. My people won't be happy.
ACHILLES lights another cigarette and flips the collar of his trenchcoat. HECTOR sets his briefcase down by ACHILLES.
It's all there?
Yes, the H.E.L.E.N. files. The only remaining copies.
How can I be sure of that?
You'll have to trust me, I suppose.
ACHILLES glances over in surprise. HECTOR smiles.
So we're done? You'll walk away?
Another train screeches to a halt at the station, muffling their conversation as they continue to talk.
…It's deeper than that now, deeper than the wishes of the bureau. It's personal.
ACHILLES flicks another cigarette and whips a hidden rope around HECTOR's legs. The train pulls away, dragging HECTOR with it. ACHILLES walks away, briefcase in hand.
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