Karl
The agents had picked me up from the used car lot and taken me right to the airport. They asked if I needed anything from my old place, but I told them not to bother. All of it belonged to Peter O'Dwyer, anyways.
I touched down at Louis Armstrong New Orleans Airport later that night. It'd never felt so wonderful to have my teeth snapped together by a shitty landing. We bounced down the runway as we began to slow, then taxied to the gate.
Agent Claire McKesson was waiting for me when I walked out of the jet bridge and into the terminal. She smiled warmly. “No luggage?” she asked.
“Why bother?” I asked. “How'd you get in, anyways? Thought no one was allowed back here?”
She grinned. “Perks of the job,” she said. “Got a car out front waiting for us.”
“Is she going to be there?”
I h
