The Wrong Target (Season 1, Episode 2)

Forty-eight hours after Calendar Zero, Cassidy Lane discovers why agents across Paris are failing their missions. Over-complication has deployed a new weapon: false targets disguised as “visibility,” "content strategy" and “reach.” 

To save the Agency, Cassidy must cut through the noise, identify the one real objective and stay one step ahead of whoever—or whatever—is now hunting the same target.

The directive is clear: find focus, or disappear in the chaos.

Like, subscribe and review to keep more intel coming.

Transcript

Mission: Clients — The Wrong Target (Season 1, Episode 2)

This is Mission: Clients. You are entering a classified operation. Agents worldwide are falling to distraction, disarray and deception. Your mission: identify the real objective, the one target that matters should you choose to accept it. Your mission begins now. 

Cassidy Lane was not in the habit of feeling lost, but standing in the narrow alley behind Avenue de l’Opéra, she was willing to admit she might have to make an exception. Rain dripped off the edge of her umbrella, collecting in tiny puddles around her boots. Her tea, bought hastily at a Pret à Manger, had already gone lukewarm. 

“Figures,” she muttered, glancing at the message flickering on her phone. Signal compromised. Proceed with caution. 

It had been 48 hours since Calendar Zero had been activated and Control's warnings hadn't exactly made life easier. Paris no longer hummed. It clattered: taxi doors, espresso cups conversations layered like static. 

For someone trained to detect patterns, it was like trying to decode chaos itself.  

Everywhere she turned, agents were talking about visibility, reach, content strategy. None of it meant anything. 

She threw her now cold tea to go into a trash bin — or poubelle, as they call it in France, a word she secretly loved to say — and stepped into a small café. She took a seat in the back, away from the window. 

The server gave her a polite nod and a faintly judgmental look when she placed her tea order. Cassidy didn't care. She had bigger problems. 

Her reflection in the silver teapot looked back at her: calm eyes, although tired around the edges, and the faint scar on her left hand from a mission that had gone sideways in Lisbon. She learned then that precision was the only real protection.

Her earpiece buzzed: two short bursts, one long. Incoming. 

“Lane, status report.”

“I’m in position, but it's worse than we thought. Agents everywhere are scattered. They've lost sight of the target.”

“Explain.”

“They're chasing ghosts. Control, likes, views, followers. The enemy plants decoys: Easy hits, no value. Every one of them thinks they're making progress, but none of them are landing actual clients.”

“The enemy has a name, Lane. It's over-complication. It thrives on distraction. It feeds on effort without direction.”

Cassidy stirred her tea, watching the ripples go in circles. She'd seen it before. Agents exhausted, buried under their own strategies. They called it productivity. She called it panic with better branding. 

“So what's the play?”

“Find the real target. Strip away the false ones. Identify the one client that matters. The one problem that actually needs solving.”

Cassidy smirked. 

“One target, one mission. I can handle that.”

She ended the transmission and leaned back in her chair. At the next table, two tourists debated which hashtag to use on their post. Across the room, a freelancer was building a sales funnel diagram that looked more like a spiderweb. 

Everywhere she looked, the same mistake repeated itself.  

Agents busy, loud, lost. 

Cassidy opened her tablet and pulled up the dossier from control. A single sentence glowed on the screen: Directive. Identify one target client. All else is distraction. 

She smiled faintly. Simple orders. Those were her favorite kind.  

Outside, the rain had stopped. Paris shimmered lights reflecting on wet cobblestones like a liquid code. One client, one problem, one solution. Everything else is noise. 

Cassidy stood, left a euro on the table and slid the earpiece back in place. 

Her tea was cold again. Now she didn't mind. She had her next mission. 

Cassidy started down the street toward the opera house, but halfway to the corner, her line buzzed again, not the usual pattern. Three slow tones she hadn't heard in years. Her blood ran cold. 

“Agent Lane, you are not the only one hunting the target.”

Cassidy froze. Static roared in her ear. The transmission cut to black. Thunder cracked overhead. She took one breath, then another — steady, measured — and kept walking. 

Looks like the mission just got crowded.  

Agent, this transmission is now complete. For further instructions, report immediately to Mission Clients Headquarters. There you'll intercept Transmission Zero. Your first encrypted briefing access is restricted, but your clearance has been approved. 

Visit missionclients.com to retrieve it now. 

Stay sharp. 

The mission is clients. 

End transmission.