Current location:	Micro Internet Cafe, NYC, NY
Current mood:	predatory
Current music:	"Pistol Grip Pump" - Rage Against the Machine
Entry tags:	crazy plan

Agent Mads. Rose Mads.
T-11 hours until I get myself captured, killed, or otherwise. Research is done. I know who, where, when. I might even know how. Can't get a hold of Elena; not sure where she is, but I'll call again and leave a message or something. Like it matters. She can't come with me.

I'm scared out of my freakin' mind. I can't sleep. I should, because I'm better when I sleep, but it's not working. I close my eyes, and I hear things. Thank god this stupid internet cafe is twenty four hours. They've gotta be wondering about me by now, though. Then again, I am nowhere near as freaky as some of these people around me...

Some stellar dude just looked at my screen as I wrote that and now I'm getting the stinkeye. That's what you get for reading over my shoulder, asshat!

I keep thinking about all the things that can happen to me. All the things that can happen to him. I think about how stupid this is, doing what I'm doing.

Then I think about how fun it's going to be, and I don't care.

I kind of feel like James Bond. Only, you know, not a guy.

Then again, for this, I will be.

I am totally Bond.