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All I wanted was to enjoy the day in the company of a beautiful woman I'd met the night before. Then Tully came knocking. I mean, sure, she had a job. And yeah, the client looked decent enough -- before he started talking about puzzle boxes and exchanges in abandoned buildings in the dead of night.
Sounds fun. Right? What could possibly go wrong?
If you've already answered that question, then you're one step ahead of me. Thanks for making me look bad.
The next thing I know I'm up to my nose hairs in double-crosses, Canadian hitmen, femme fatales, and mysterious runways in the middle of nowhere. Why can't things ever be simple -- or at least involve lots of whiskey and/or double bacon cheeseburgers?
Too much to hope for? Damn. I was afraid of that.
Bottom line, it's gonna be a long day, assuming I don't die first.
Who am I, you ask? No one special. Just another face in the crowd, a cog in the machine, an average joe.
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