Agent Kelly Tomlinson

Twenty Seven

I woke up on Saturday morning with a pounding headache. Tonight is the night where I am reunited with my family, trapped together in one big room with other people, and with witnesses to the great disaster that will probably take place. Scared is usually never an adjective to describe me, but I'll be the first to admit that today, I am. Petrified, even. So what did I do to calm down my nerves? Drank a lot of tequila, that's what I did.

Once I got home from the gun range last night, I started drinking that alcohol like it was juice. I wanted to forget about it for the night since it was all I could think about during the entire week. Yeah, it worked and I can't even remember what time I passed out, but it wasn't enough to make me forget about it in the morning...or twelve in the afternoon which is what my phone was telling me.

My stomach twisted as I tried to sit up. "Oh shit." I raced to the bathroom and hovered my mouth over the toilet, heaving into the bowl everything I ate yesterday until my stomach content felt completely empty. I flushed the toilet and stood up weakly. I reluctantly looked in the mirror and almost gasped at what I saw. I looked horrendous. My makeup was smudged, my hair was a ratty mess, and my clothes were twisted in all different direction. I was also missing a sock.

I ran my face over some cold water and popped in two Advils for the headache. The clock was quickly ticking away to one in the afternoon, taunting me as if it knew I had to start getting ready for dinner. I was supposed to arrive to the restaurant at 4:30.

My phone rang back in the bedroom. I trudged over to it looking like an ugly zombie. I picked it up and groaned into the phone, "Hello, Ian."

"Whoa. You okay?" He asked immediately. It was like Ryan last week, always knowing something's wrong before I can open my mouth. However, Ian could probably tell through my tone, but nonetheless, he was really good at detecting my moods.

"Hungover." I replied.

"Oh, right. You're gonna see your family tonight, right?" Ian sighed. "Oh, Kelly. It's going to be alright. I promise."

"Don't make promises you can't keep." I laughed pathetically. "Anyway, what's up with you?"

"Well, I called to let you know I finally got a hit on King's Exchange." I physically felt my ears perk up and my adrenaline pumping in my veins. "Sorry, I didn't' call you earlier. I've been distracted. Yesterday was my Mom's..."

"Oh shit, Ian. It was your Mom's anniversary." The anniversary of his mom's death. I had it written on my calendar so I wouldn't forget, so that I could be there for him because I knew it would be tough. But I forgotten in all the chaos going on with my own family. I was a horrible friend. "Oh, god Ian I'm so sorry I didn't call."

"No, it's okay. Really. It was nice to be alone for it. Like I reconnected with her somehow."

"Yeah I can understand that." I said. That didn't make me feel any better about being a terrible person.

Ian coughed, "Anyway. King's Exchange. It was originally established in 1972 by a man named Gerald King. It was a website on the black market. Basically people came to him when they wanted someone to be killed but didn't want the blood on their hands."

"Just like our hit man company now," I nodded along. "Okay, but that was from 1972. Where is Gerald King now?"

"Deceased. He died from a heart attack in prison. He and his company were shut down after the FBI hacked into it. It was taken down completely."

"Back then, King's Exchange was used for murder. The one I have now is being used for kidnappings and transportation. Why use the same name? You think it's a copycat?"