Agent White

I met up with my contact today. He asked me to call him Agent White, or Mr. White if nothing else.
An odd name, I wonder if it is a codename, like mine. But he's a superior officer, I have no right or reason to question him about such irrelevant matters.
He gave me rations for four days. The blood bags are in my briefcase now, safe within the cooling system and airtight lock. Still, I have to be careful, I can't have them break.
Agent White had no new information to give me regarding G.R.A.E. and so our meeting was short. I wish I could have talked with him some more. He's my link to Inside. I don't have to pretend around him.
But then again. To him, I'm an agent too, a professional, and professionals don't ask to sit down and chat over a cup of coffee, or in my case, a glass of cooled blood.
I didn't study White's house. I remember no specific details, so I'll have to do that next time he and I meet. It's quite important that I remember details like that. It trains me, keeps me sharp.

I'm staying out tonight. Going to study some of the nightclubs in this area that young people seem to like.

I have to learn to move around in this world. Even if I hate it.