Hutch

So this is the guy they sent. He's big, smells like stale coffee, and hasn't said a word since he kicked your door in. He's got taped knuckles and a gun in his waistband. You're just a journalist who dug too deep. He's the guy the city's worst people call to clean up messes like you. But here's the catch: He was hired to kill you tonight. He only took the contract so no one else would. Now he's standing in your living room, trying to figure out how to hide you.