Chapter Two

184 11 6
                                    

Jet Lag was a bitch. It always was for the first six or so hours, and of course as soon as I landed in London, Drew had a route for me. Damn, I was hoping to be a tourist for once. But, it always seemed to work out this way. I had travelled all over the world, but I had seen barely anything.

It was raining when the plane landed. Rain wasn't the most convenient thing when I was working, but just walking around it was nice. Rain was also a good way to keep yourself hidden, whether with a coat or an umbrella. But that could be considered a strength or a weakness depending on who.

It was midday, since I got on the first red-eye flight from New York. Most people out seemed to be working; it wasn't much for tourist season especially in this rain. In fact, the city was overall a gloomy place and I could hardly understand why someone might ever live here. At least, I never would.

I rushed pass what I knew was Buckingham Palace. I had been inside of it once for a business meeting; it was better than the New York office that was for sure. But they made me drink tea and I fucking hated tea. I still do; there probably isn't a damn person in this world that could make me drink it. I guess if someone found out about that, it would be a great torture device, actually.

But still, I had seen the beautiful and big building before so there was nothing in me yearning to push through a crowd to take a shitty picture behind iron bars. I did appreciate the guards though. As I kept on walking through London, I kept my eyes forward as I listened into my earpiece. If I had a choice, I would've thrown the damn thing in the trash a long while ago, but Drew made sure to tell me nothing until I turned it on. All it takes is one Intel agent to make a field agent look like some helpless puppy, to my discontent.

As lunch hour drew on and the map Drew planned out took me into the greater part of London, the crowds slowly began to fill the small sidewalks along the streets. Restaurants and cafes lined the streets, some busy and some completely empty. Almost all of them seemed to be drinking tea and I had to laugh at how British they were.

"It's like a movie, Drew. Everyone is the stereotype." I spoke under my breath, just so that no one around me would think I was talking to myself. Never draw attention to yourself; you never know who's watching. I heard Drew laughing through the speaker and I barely smiled as I made my way through men in trench coats and ladies with giant umbrellas.

"I'm glad you're surrounded by people who share your love for tea. Now, I just got a hit on the virus. It doesn't seem to be doing any damage, but someone looks to be accessing it. Probably on a cellphone or something, but that could get you to one of the people behind the operation." He explained and I had to press the speaker closer to my eardrum to hear him properly because of the growing crowds. It felt like damn New York.

"Okay, you have it traced?" I asked, trying my best to push past some old man who was walking much too slow for me. "Yeah. The phone doesn't seem to have much security, which is strange considering that the creator seems to be pretty good at hiding it. But I got it, if you're ready." He offered it to me hesitantly, probably because it seemed to be too coincidental. If there was a reason to be so open with the virus, it was probably to be found. My left leg twitched against the knife in my boot, and my hand gently gripped the pocket where I kept my pistol. That was usually what coincidences ended in.

Drew told me the last location of the virus he had tracked and I used whatever I could find to figure out wherever the hell I was. Finally I found a kiosk with maps and grabbed one, squinting my eyes as I looked for the street name. I folded the map up as soon as I found it and let Drew know I was on my way. The rain began to pour down harder, and it was getting a lot harder to follow Drew's directions. I could barely hear him, and the rain made everything unreadable. The crowds stayed though; London was weird.

Jammed (Louis Tomlinson au)Where stories live. Discover now