Budget cuts and belt-tightening had already impacted our agency’s ability to field operatives and gather intelligence from our enemies.
Looking at the reports of dead agents across the globe, I knew that the pennypinchers had pinched too hard.
All agents had been given suicide pills in the form of false molars they could crush and swallow.
Except that we’d gone with the low bidder, and those that didn’t accidentally crush the cheap replacements eventually succumbed to the poison when the enamel wore through naturally.
We had to pay a hefty fortune to keep the families quiet.
Penny wise, pound foolish.