Bond.

Shit- my cover’s been blown.

Let me start at the beginning.

So I got those emails from this Russian dude, and he wasn’t giving me a damn thing. So I went out to LA- I had a gut feeling that this was directly related to Lawrence’s case. (Plus I missed that boy but don’t you dare tell him. ) I figured I could dig up SOMETHING in such a big city, and if I didn’t? Well, at least I got a good tan.

But I found stuff out. Thanks to Shirley’s poster, somebody sent in a tip to headquarters which Veronica immediately sent me.

Turns out my gut was right. Bond was in L.A. I was on a beach when I got the tip…. Bond’s in L.A. I had to act, and act fast. The question was how to find him in such a big city. I scoured the internet, found his twitter account and have been keeping an eye on that. He’s not a very active tweeter it would seem. Fate was on my side, though. I was walking along in China Town looking for something to eat and contemplating my luck, when he walked RIGHT PAST ME. I played it cool and kept walking, making sure to keep him within my sights. Where was he going? I had to know. I followed him through the neighborhood to this crappy walkup apartment complex.

It was hard as hell to sneak up that rickety old staircase to his place without him noticing. But through general stealth and finesse I was able to do it. Apartment 36B. Got it.

The next day I slunked around the place to figure out when he was in and when he was out. Most of the time, he was out. Perfect.

It’s questionable, I know, but I decided I had to fall back to one of the tid bits of knowledge I learned in college- I broke into his apartment and tapped his phone. That way, I would learn more about him than I ever wanted to know.

Did this have to do with my mission to kill him? No, not at all. If that was the purpose he’d be dead the third day. I wanted information. I wanted answers. My co-workers needed this information. So I sucked it up, and deviated.

I made sure to keep tabs on what was happening on the line. Nothing, mostly. I get the feeling nobody knew where he was, or what he was up to. He didn’t receive or call anybody.

Except for once.

The text was garbled, or else I would include it in this post. But I took notes. Good notes.

Bond was talking to a woman-she sounded a bit distressed and irritated to being called in the first place. He was asking strange questions about a Russian man- why was he called, was it necessary? The woman responded that she didn’t know what he was talking about. Why was he making up lies? He demanded to know who the Russian was to her. She rebuffed. The only Russian she knew was her brother- and she immediately stopped talking and hung up.

Well.

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