The black hat suites me perfectly. I take it off and tie my hair. I wear the hat again, bending it to cover my face as much as possible. I walk to the cashier and drop a $5 bill.

As I step out, images of the previous night flash in my mind. If the cops had in fact raided my house last night then I was no less than a criminal. A fugitive on the run. Word probably must've spread in the service. I'd have probably become a pity story. From being a special agent to a murderer in less than a week. Shit. I wonder how Benji's faring. Was...