[center][h2][color=lavender]Andrew Jacobson[/color][/h2][/center]
[center]Location: Peacekeeper Compound, New York[/center]

	"This is the place? Are you sure? It doesn't seem like the kind of place he'd hang out."

	"That is where my associate says he saw him last." spoke Edmond over a small ear piece, "That street is pretty isolated upon looking at the map. It leads from one main street to the plaza, an area known for its taverns."

	"I mean, I'm not saying your guy is wrong, but for a guy you described as an uppity British who walks pompously with a cane, a back ally street seems kind of out of character." replied Andrew. He was sitting on top an odd selection of crates crudely piled on the corner that led from the main street. He was dressed in dark jeans, a black windbreaker, and a black t-shirt. Hopping off he took a quick look down the length of the street. There were enough people there to populate it, but was mostly empty. He leaned up back against the crates as he continued his conversation.

	"I guess if I don't find him, I can get something to drink."

	"Try to find him if at all possible. It was little more than a stroke of luck my associate spotted him. he was observed speaking with our other prospects in that plaza earlier."

	"Are we sure he is even real? Are you sure you're not being strung along? We can trust the guy, right?"
	
	"He was not wrong. I made absolutely sure that his information was reliable. With only fragmented knowledge we have of his existence, this is worth the investigation. Now we are wasting time, find him or clues to his whereabouts."

	"Right, sorry sorry. Still seems kind of a long shot." Andrew started to make his way down the street. There were still more people populating the bars than one might expect at this time. It was barely mid afternoon, and already people were getting drunk. As he walked, he read the signs over the bars. Many of them lacked windows, and the few that did were just clear enough to see that the person he was looking for wasn't a patron. He poked his head in a few of the windowless ones ultimately finding no one in any of them. He walked the majority of the street, kicking ruble along the way. He glanced towards a stack of crates where a couple people were talking.

	"Some of the people in this place are weird." Andrew spoke to himself. As he got closer, he was able to see the conversing couple more clearly. There was a woman upon the crates as well as a man with a poorly done clown getup. The two seemed pretty out of the ordinary even for the compound, and Andrew quickly passed by to not draw their attention.

	Finally at the other end of the street, there was only one bar that remained. Wit's End was getting the most traffic from what Andrew could see. He tried to take a peak inside, but the the layout made it annoying. Shrugging, Andrew entered the bar completely and stepped out of the way of the door and scanned the room like he had done the previous bars. There along the counter sat who Andrew suspected was who they were looking for. The figure had a cane, and was dressed in a high collared coat, smoking a cigar, all the things Andrew would classify as the guy he was looking for. Taking a seat in a nearby empty table. Andrew kept an eye on him while not trying to make it obvious. He grabbed a menu to see what selections they might have.