The acrid electronic smoke still lingered in his nose. He panted as he ran through the doors of the train station, carefully yet quickly glancing over his shoulder. He slipped through the front entrance, but did not take the main revolving door. You can get trapped too easily in those, he remembered his mentor telling him. Instead, he entered through a side door, sticking close to the shadows.
Once inside, he finally took a few minutes to regain his breath. He hadn’t realized it yet, but he had sprinted the entire way from the safe house to the station. He faded into the shadows and checked for followers. There were no familiar faces, nor any unknown people that made him feel uneasy.
Once his pulse was normal, he started thinking logically again. He had his wallet but he realized that the gun was gone from the holster under his arm. Damn. Where had he lost it? Was it during the run? Or was it still sitting on the old mahogany desk in the safe house? No matter, he convinced himself he didn’t need it.
He continued with the inventory, feeling his coat and pant pockets. Some loose coins, a pen, sunglasses and, his cell phone. So not all was lost. He might not have his gun, but he had the next best thing, a way to stay one step ahead while on the go.
He pulled out the HTC Tilt 2 and powered it on. It hadn’t been damaged and seemed to have a full charge. In that respect, he was lucky. He noticed his knuckle was bleeding. Sucking the blood off, he was pleased to see that he had full reception, even hidden in the corner of the train station.
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