Lewis Smith was sitting in the cafe. Le café de patriote. It was in fact, owned by the agency. Usually, they used it as a recruiting center. If people came in with an invitation, they were sent to the VIP lounge, and then offered a job.
This time, it was going to be used for briefing. Lewis was sitting there, sipping a mocha while silently praying. A silenced mac-10 sits on the table. Soon, a team of other agents would be sent here, and they'd be briefed on a new mission they were about to receive.