Michael Westen, a top-class spy with an enormous level of secrecy, is on a ultra-secret mission, but a snag arises—for reasons no one understands his superiors reject him, and he becomes persona non grata with all possible intelligence agencies; his accounts are frozen, his documents invalid, and basically he is a nobody. Michael somehow makes it to Miami, where his former girlfriend and agent Fiona is waiting for him, who, of course, immediately informs his mother—a woman who diagnoses using a medical reference book, just like Jerome K. Jerome—and she will find and extract her son from any point on the planet, even the hottest. Michael tries to survive in Miami, and since you can’t go far without money, he starts working as a private detective—he takes down a local hustler who decided to rob himself. Michael is bailed out, he rents an apartment above a nightclub from a strange Russian guy, and he immediately gets into a scandal with a local neighborhood-level drug dealer, arranges shootouts, in short, behaves as a spy should. The FBI is tailing him every step of the way, plus probably a couple of other secret services are watching. Michael constantly talks with Sam—a retired agent who does nothing but eat, drink, and give valuable advice to anyone who asks. One day Michael comes home and finds on the floor his own photographs, taken by a professional as skilled as he is. Who’s following him? Why did the agencies turn their backs on him? What is going on at all? Dear users! To avoid losing us, bookmark this address: CTRL+D