My submission:

Sitting in a stealth helicopter skimming the night-cloaked surface of the Arabian Sea, James Smith knew this would be his last mission.

He was to assassinate the head of the Iranian Ministry of Intelligence, Amjad Darvish. Darvish's deputy, a long-time US mole, had already laid the groundwork for a coup, and only his boss — a staunch loyalist of the Ayatollah — stood in his way.

The CIA was more than eager to enlist Smith to help move the process along, and had given him ample compensation. More than enough to quit the spy game and live a long, happy, and financially healthy life on a beach in Honduras.

The mission went better than planned and as he stepped onto the tarmac of the aircraft carrier, sighed in relief as he collected his thoughts for the debriefing scheduled for 0400.

His last debriefing.

Safe in his cabin, he turned on his cellphone to find a text from an unknown number. It was a picture of his wife, her throat slit, with a red-speckled note next to her lifeless body.

“We know who you are. We know what you did. We found her. We will find you."

@vdux