Zayn and I arrived at the hotel. The ride was quiet. Stan came and got us from the park. I didn't want him to know exactly where we really were. Zayn didn't like lying to him, but I couldn't involve someone else. I still wasn't really sure if he fully trust me. But, he really didn't have a choice.
Zayn jumped out of the car and walked ahead of me into the hotel. Stan stated he had to help with the security layout for the concert tonight. So, he left without questioning us. Zayn zipped over to the elevator, as if he was trying to get away from me. I also strolled through the lobby rather quickly. However, I was flagged down by the front desk clerk.
"Ms. Walker, your father left a package here for you." The clerk said.
I grabbed the package and read the address label. It was labeled: Emily Walker, Room 614.
"Are you sure this is mines," I asked, pointing to the room number.
"Of course," the clerk said, smiling. "He was in a hurry and must have wrote the wrong number."
I smiled and took the package. I caught up with Zayn in the elevator. The awkward silence was killing me. Then, he spoke.
"So Ms. Walker, who's the package from?"
"My fath..." I stopped, as Zayn frowned. I sighed, "...My contact."
Zayn nodded, biting the inside of his mouth. I was trying my hardest not to lie to him again. It was ridiculously hard. I lie for a living. But, I needed him to trust me. The elevator stopped and he followed me to my room. I opened my door and place the package on the desk.
"So, what's in it," Zayn probed. "It's not going to blow, is it?"
I crenched, shaking my head. "Why would it?"
He shrugged, "I don't know what you guys send each other."
My hand collided with my forehead. Who does he think I am? James Bond, girl edition. Zayn was hovering over the package. Eyeing it, like it was explosive. I pushed him onto the bed. He flapped down and leaned on his elbows. Relax. I thought to myself. It's not a damn bomb, silly.
I shook my head, "I'm already telling you more than I should. This isn't a cinema. It doesn't work like that. Knowing too much really could get you killed."
I sat on the chair near the desk and opened the package. It was a small DVD player and a typed note.
The note read:
Hey 'Emily'.
If you're reading this, that means you're still alive. Congratulations. I knew you would. I wish it didn't come to this. I wish I was there to help you. But I can't. I can't help you with this. I found the original target. Your target isn't any of those boys. Not a manager or an agent or even their security. The target is you. It always was you. You've been burned.
Someone at The Company set you up, switching rooms so you wouldn't know. And for that, I'm sorry. I don't know who changed your room number, but you should thank them. I knew something was wrong when you was assigned this case. Hopefully, I found all those discrepancies in the case, like you asked. If only you had someone as good as me to break them for you.
It was the luck of the cards determining which guy ended up in that room. But, I knew you was smarter than that. You could never kill an innocent person. You would protect them. Like you are suppose to. I found a few video here at The Company that might interest you. It will help determine who sent the hit. Just warning you that you might not like what you see. You're my best girl, my favorite. I'm going to miss you and I'm glad you got a fighting chance. Good luck. And watch your back. No one is not what they seem.
YOU ARE READING
The Target (Complete) - Watty Awards 2014
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