The prompt:
Alexander Waverly stood, silhouetted in front of his office window, facing the team of Solo and Kuryakin.
“Gentleman, I have a rather special protection duty for you today. You are to assist in guarding these individuals for the duration of their stay in New York City. They have some security in place, but more is needed...armed as a matter of fact, as there have been threats made, coming from sources unknown,” as the Old Man spoke, he stepped towards his conference table.
“What about the police? No protection with them?” Solo asked as a folder came round atop the lazy susan table.
“The police will have their hands full with crowd control.” Waverly said.
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