Well, it's been some time since I made a post. I feel like I'm probably way out of the loop right now on stuff...that's never a good thing. I've been spending some time recovering from something that I'll mention in my next post.
So, I said something about being alone. I had been alone at that point waiting at a meeting place for one of my old contacts. When they finally showed up, they gave me information that narrowed the search in one of the locations for me: New York City. Sorry Adam, but I had to go. Beth and I had to part ways. She had some business that was in the opposite direction of where I needed to go. I hope that I'll be able to see her again.
I made my way to the airport, not for a flight, but for a package. After I had shown the "proper" credentials, I was led to the storage site where my package was waiting. It smelled like a trap. Everything was going too easily...and there was a window in plain sight of my container.
I couldn't move it, it was far too heavy to do so. According to its label, it had been there for a few weeks. I decided to risk it, and I opened it up. I was met with a terrible smell...death to be exact. It was the young Russian pilot. He had been brutally maimed before being placed in this box to wait for me at an airport in New York City... Talk about planning, right?
I leaned on the edge of the box. I didn't see any notes in the box for me, so the body was clearly the only message for me. One last look at his face so I would never forget him and how I had failed him. As I turned away, everything slowed down. I saw the scope glint from the nearby hanger and saw the muzzle flash as I threw myself to the ground...the bullet hit right where my head had been only seconds before.
I don't like taking chances. This assailant could have been the Archangel himself, or it could've been some servant with Archangel bullets. One without Archangel bullets. It could even have been a Russian hitman who was avenging the death of one of his own. I didn't, and still don't, know.
I had left my gun outside of the city. Along with most of my stuff. The only things I had on me were the suit I was wearing, and my papers. Even my protective overcoat was with everything else. I was regretting those decisions. After sitting there for some time trying to grasp the situation, I decided to run for it. As I ran out the door, I heard shot after shot miss me. I was thanking the wind for being so erratic on that day.
A short sprint got me out of the airport. I ran and ran until I found an alleyway to duck in to. The voices of people searching for me drew near. Definitely servants. I went the only way I could: the nearby manhole cover was open.
Sewers are terrible. Luckily, they're a good way to lose any pursuit. Best part is that they walked right by me without even noticing me! They were talking about some TV show they wanted to watch later. The idiots! I left out of the entrance they used (they had come from the opposite way that I had entered) and closed it behind me. Before leaving, I dumped my suit and bought a new one. Then I got as far away from NYC as I could while heading toward my next lead.
Adam, if you're reading this, sorry for the dust I kicked up. I didn't leave too much of a mess though. No bodies.
And lastly, who all's even still around and kicking? I don't want to be the last one from my generation...