K.
He held the postcard in his hand, reading the note over and over, probably for the millionth time already since he got it last night.
'5pm, Saturday. Times Square. K. x.'
It was a real short note. He spent all night looking at it, trying to figure out whether he had to look for her all over Times Square, or just wait for her at the street sign by the corner.
He bit his lip to stop himself from smiling and shook his head. Typical K, she'd have him guessing and solving mind games.