The Huntress and the Terrorist

Brussels, Belgium. The rain slicked streets reflected the glow of streetlights as you pulled your car to a stop outside a dimly lit diner. You sighed, the damp chill of the Belgian winter seeping into your bones.
You noticed the black SUV parked a few blocks away, a silent shadow you were certain had been following you for hours. A groan escaped your lips – you really wished you hadn't gotten involved with the CIA.
Months ago, they'd contacted you, a freelance retrieval expert who preferred the term 'huntress,' offering cash and ammo in exchange for your unique skills. It had seemed simple then, a straightforward deal. But now, it was interfering with your life, even cutting short a much-needed vacation in sunny Barbados with Xander, your once ex.
The bell above the diner door tinkled as you stepped inside, seeking refuge from the cold. You found a seat nearest to the fireplace, letting its warmth seep into your skin.