No more non-lethal approaches

The silence in the flawless conference room was tense, like the hush that falls over a forest before thunder cracks the sky.

The polished mahogany table sat solemn and silent, its gleaming surface reflecting the grim faces gathered around it.

The plush leather chairs, normally so inviting, now seemed hard as the team perched tensely on the edges of their seats.

Along the wood-paneled walls, the gilded mirrors and paintings gazed down sternly, as if chastising the group for their failure.

The very air felt heavy, weighed down by disappointment and dread.

A man paced back and forth, his footsteps muffled by the plush carpet. His face flushed an angry red as he clenched and unclenched his hands at his sides.

"Would someone care to explain how we let Erik Romano slip through our fingers yet again?" A man's voice echoed off the soundproofed walls.

The assembled team sat tensely around the polished marble table, avoiding his piercing gaze.