Current location:	Micro Internet Cafe, NYC, NY
Current mood:	anxious
Current music:	"A Night Like This" - Professional Murder Music
Entry tags:	crazy plan, family

NYPD Law Enforcement FTL
It worked. Holy shit. I don't even know what they would have done to me if they'd caught me. There was one point where I could feel myself slipping and thought I might lose it. The guy wasn't looking at my hands, though. Thank god (or dog, or whatever we're calling him today).

So. I have an address. I have a plan. I think I have a plan, anyway. Gotta talk to Elena. I am > this close < to winding up on the six o'clock news for this stunt I'm about to pull. I went to see the place today, but it's totally unassuming. Doesn't look like a fortress, but I bet it is. I've been staying at this run down little motel on the Lower East Side, just in case they come back looking for sloppy seconds. I'm sharing my pillow with roaches, but, uh...

...at least I'm still there when I wake up? Turns out if you drop enough bills on the concierge's desk, he doesn't care if you walk in and call yourself Chesty LaRue or Marilyn Monroe or whatever else. (I gave him a better name than that, don't worry.) I might have bought myself, what, six extra hours by doing that? Sure, we don't share a last name or anything, but ever since those DNA tests, there's something out there telling them that I exist.

Damn it, Benny. Next time just believe what I say when I say it!

Scratch that. It's probably a bad idea.

Guess you knew me better than I thought.

P.S. - Don't die, okay? It's going to be hella lame if I do this and you wind up deader than dead.