I sit in the hotel room for days mourning the loss of my AG-14, now rusting at the bottom of the Pacific Ocean. I try to recall the events but they refuse to come to me. Todd told me that the ropes came loose during some turbulence, the AG slid backwards colliding with the door and forcing it open. I don't believe him. I know there was another version of events; I just wish I could remember them!! I know there wasn't any turbulence; I had requested a flight level above the weather. I ponder on...
Early one morning, very early, Todd typing away on his laptop wakes me. I look outside, but it is still too dark to see anything except the landing. The room rumbles as a 747-400 passes overhead. Todd turns around; I quickly shut my eyes so he doesn't see me watching. He presses a button then leaves the room. I jump up and open up his laptop. The screen flicks to life displaying an email he just sent. I read it, some drug lord is hiring Todd to do a delivery of around 500kg of crystal meth. The drugs are being delivered into Todd
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