[center][img]https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/462447282894405640/475111377225121793/coollogo_com-19964203.png[/img][/center]
[center][b]and[/b][/center]
[center][b]Bryan Loomis[/b][/center]

[hr]

[b]Late Summer

Central Park, NY[/b]
 
 
The North Woods of Central Park were a particularly quiet spot in New York, especially with midnight around the corner.
 
David relaxed as the water soothingly made its way beneath the wooden bridge he stood upon, leaning against the rail languidly.
 
He did not much look like himself, dressed in an uncharacteristically casual manner: slim jeans over a pair of ankle boots, coupled with a hoodie and an obscure meme t-shirt to tie the whole ensemble together. He also sported a large, if well kept, fake beard which obscured the lower half of his face, whilst a generic black cap crowned his head, hood on top. These threw some shade over a pair of glasses, which further concealed a pair of dark, brown lenses.
 
The glasses were purely for show, of course, but they helped tie the illusion of being someone else together. What were truly interesting, however, were his contact lenses: top of the line, cutting edge technology, they provided the wearer with an intuitive form of augmented reality, feeding him information on his environment.  They had cost him a small fortune in the black market, but it was not a purchase he regretted: not by any stretch of the imagination.
The lenses had several functionalities, such as modulating the eye color, recording or taking pictures  at any given moment, connecting to the internet and of course, feeding a live stream directly to Deep. 

They could also run different programs to focus on analyzing different aspects of the environment, but with the tech being so new and experimental, there was not a lot to choose from. Fortunately, with all great technological advancements comes great military interest, and the defaults carried advanced reconnaissance and combat interfaces, and Deep was almost out of Alpha for a proprietary code, focused on assisting Dave in his more nefarious ventures.

The man suddenly perched up. The lenses were picking up movement, but they did not seem to be able to pinpoint any shape or form.

[colour=lightslategray]“...Are you seeing this?”[/colour] the man whispered.

“I am,” the telltale ‘deepthroat’ reply came through, “It’s probably just a glitch. Or a pigeon. Perhaps I ought to refine…”

[colour=lightslategray]“Shush,”[/colour] David urged him, [colour=lightslategray]“Someone -is- coming.”[/colour]
 
 [i] I hate this city.[/i] Bryan Loomis thought to himself as he traversed through Central Park toward his destination. Though his occupation had brought him to New York numerous times, no trip to the “Rotten Apple” as he liked to call it, was ever short enough. Fortunately, this assignment was relatively straightforward. All he had to do was make contact with a world renowned thief and give him a dossier with a business proposal from his employer, and then he could be on his way.

However, this assignment had proven to be easier said than done. The thief in question was just as elusive as his reputation had indicated. In truth, there was very little information about the man out there, and much of it had proven to be more fiction than fact. However, through his vast resources, Loomis’ employer had been able to dig up a sizeable amount of information on the master thief, a man that for all intents and purposes, to the rest of the world, simply didn’t exist. Since arriving in New York the previous day, Loomis had been on the thief’s trail, tracking him from Times Square to Staten Island and everywhere in between. He nearly made contact with him at a small tavern on the Upper East Side after one of his leads had proven to be promising, however, the master thief had proven elusive as ever.

Another of his leads, which came from one of Midas’ top informants had lead him here. Central Park was a massive area within New York City, which made finding a specific individual, especially someone who does not want to be found, much like finding the proverbial “needle in a haystack.”  Fortunately, Loomis’ informant was more specific in regards to a location for the elusive thief. As Loomis made his way through the North Woods of the park, he thought that he heard someone talking. 

Loomis adjusted his glasses as he looked around the area, and much to his surprise, he saw a man standing on a wooden bridge not too far from his current location. He took a moment to study the man, and when he recalled the admittedly fuzzy images that he had seen of the thief, he was sure that this man may very possibly be the master thief himself. So Loomis straightened his wiry frame and walked purposefully toward the man on the bridge.

“James Cavindish, you are a hard man to get a hold of.” He said as he approached the man on the bridge. 

David’s heart jumped in his chest, followed by a guttural feeling of sickness.  He’d been ready for anything, even the flash of a gun’s metal, or perhaps even a badge’s… but hearing that name was the last thing he expected.
 
 Ever since the ‘loss’ of his real identity, James Cavindish had become, for all intents and purposes, his ‘main’ alter ego, his civil identity, so to speak. It was a persona which he and Deep had meticulously crafted over the years, an up and coming magnate of the toilet roll industry, owning 49% of the rapidly growing “Cheeky Monkey” brand. It was a legitimate business, and one of the many ways in which he and Deep laundered their money. When the hacker asked him about the idea, David shrugged.

[colour=lightslategray]“It was something my grandfather used to say when he wanted to illustrate the difference between something you want, and something you -need.- ‘Fads come and go, but a hundred years from now people will still need to go for a shit.’”[/colour]

 All in all, it was the name that paid the bills and the signature that justified the expenses, and a matter he had taken a great deal of care in keeping completely separate from his criminal endeavours. They had been so clever… so careful!
 
He took a deep breath, inhaling quietly through his nose whilst he mentally ran through half a dozen techniques and tricks to keep himself cool and coherent, detached from his suddenly mixed and bubbling emotions. He could almost hear Deep’s stunned silence through his earpiece, -surely, screaming internally as he tried his best to remain professional.
 
His instincts, on the other hand, told him to run, to talk his way through a swift exit and find some hole to hide in… but he had already taken the bait, and he’d be damned if he wasn’t going to squeeze the moment for all it was worth.
 
He stood up from the railing, as if to better regard the man. The lenses were as good as useless in this regard, more an annoyance than an aid as they continued to malfunction in the scarce lighting. Still, he read no ill intent in the man’s tone or body language.
 
[colour=lightslategray]“Not hard enough, it would seem,”[/colour] he replied in his non-descript accent, his warm voice calm and collected, almost playful in its tone, [colour=lightslategray]“Honestly, I’m a little disappointed in myself. I always thought I’d be retired before people even began to suspect of my real identity.”[/colour]

“Yes well, when your pockets are as deep as my employers, you’ll find that very little is out of your reach.” Loomis quipped as he stepped towards the master thief. 

Loomis could tell that Cavindish, despite his cool demeanor was slightly spooked by his sudden appearance and the fact that he knew the man’s name. There were certain tells that everyone, no matter how well they hide their emotions, have that give away their true emotions, and Loomis was an expert in identifying these tells. Sometimes it was a twitch, or a sudden shifting of weight, sometimes it was even the way someone blinks an eye. Sometimes it was a combination of things, and sometimes it was something different altogether. Loomis had an odd knack for identifying these traits and using them to his benefit.

“The thing is, Mr. Cavindish, my employer has a need for someone with your...particular skill set.” Loomis said pointedly before adding, “And he is willing to compensate you generously for your work.”


“I told you this was a bad idea...” Deep’s voice came through David’s earpiece, unable to contain himself any longer, “You have to get out of there. I have already uploaded the quickest escape route to your lenses and I can have the dro…”


David never heard the end of his sentence, a quick click on the earpiece muting his partner, [colour=lightslategray]“Yes, well,”[/colour] he echoed his interlocutor,  [colour=lightslategray]“Flattered as I am that your ‘employer’ went through all that trouble to figure me out -and believe me, I ensured there was plenty- I honestly find this invasion of my privacy to be rather unprofessional, if not a little rude,”[/colour] he scolded the man, his eyes hardening, [colour=lightslategray]“I do not appreciate being strong-armed.”[/colour]

“Strong-armed?” Loomis asked as a smile stretched over his face. “Believe me, if my employer were strong-arming you, you’d certainly know it.” Loomis assured the thief.

It was the truth. 

Richard Midas was known for many things, however, showing restraint in attaining a goal was not one of them. This tenacity has seen him do any number of reprehensible things over the years. When he felt that someone could help him achieve a goal, he spared no expense and there was no depth to which he would not sink in order to get what he wanted. 

“Be that as it may, this is one job that I don’t think you’ll be able to turn down.” Loomis said with a jovial tone of voice, trying to get this interaction back on track.

David produced a cigarette, taking a deep drag to ignite it as the corporate henchman went through the motions.

 There was little point in further rallying for honour amongst thieves or making hypocritical demands for trust. As much as it pained him to admit it, the condescending little wanker was right: the thief had no doubt in his mind that these people meant business (possibly in more ways than one), and if they’d wanted to hurt him, be it with this information or otherwise, they could’ve done it by now in far less of an elaborate manner. 

[colour=lightslategray]“Pffft,”[/colour] Dave blew out the smoke in what seemed to be an effort to contain a laugh, giving the man a cheeky smirk, [colour=lightslategray]“Alright then, Jimmy Helms. Let’s hear your pitch.”[/colour]

Loomis smiled, more to himself than anything else. It had been awhile since he had been tested by someone, and this man had not only had him running all over the city to track him down, but he had proven highly entertaining when he finally did catch up with  Cavindish.

“I’m impressed. I’m actually a fan of Londonbeat. I thought I was the only one.” Loomis quipped as he reached into his pocket and produced a thumb drive. “All the information about the job, as well as how to contact me is on this drive.” Loomis said as he approached the man.

“Now, I know that compensation is important to a man like you, and I think you’ll be pleased with the offer my employer has authorized me to make to you. Twenty-five million up front. With another twenty-five million upon completion of the job.” Loomis said as he stood just feet from the thief with his hand outstretched, offering him the thumb drive.

The thief couldn’t help but raise a brow. That was a hell of a lot more generous than what had been originally placed upon the table. Five times more generous, to be precise. He took the thumb drive, eyeing it with a small smile.

[colour=lightslategray]“You know, I fully intended to haggle a bit with you, but you’ve proven mighty good at taking the fun out of all of this. Even so, you can tell your employer that if his word is as good as his money, I’ll steal the moon if he bloody well pleases,”[/colour] he tipped the thumb drive against his forehead, as if bidding the man farewell, [colour=lightslategray]“I shall contact you once the job is done. Oh, and next time, stick to the codenames, asshole.”[/colour]

David did not wait for a reply before taking off, and if one was ever spouted, he did not bother to listen to it. He could hardly wait to get home and see what was on the drive… yet funnily enough, he was in no hurry to hear his partner’s litany of complaints. Deep would just have to simmer until he was back to the apartment.