[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/pzWrnNW.png?1[/img][/center] A figure dressed in black burst through the closet door, checking the colour of the paintwork to get his orientation. Isaac had been going all night. First, he made sure he lost any tail he may have picked up in case someone had eyes on the Hub. He’d gone through multiple parking garages, ditched his car, and used a ride share service after racing through a mall. He’d arranged to have himself dropped off five blocks from a spare car he kept in long term storage – just enough to ascertain he hadn’t picked up a secondary tail. He checked behind him, he checked the skies for helicopters or drones, and he kept his head down and away from shopfront security cameras. He’d used a fake ID in the Hub, so he knew that trail was covered. He drove to one of his safehouses and used the teleportation device, to send himself first back to Cooktown, Terraria where he got changed into his Vigilante gear, before he then went back to another random Lost Haven safehouse. He was meticulously careful. He had to be. He knew he left a connection between two lives, and now he had to scrub it clean. Now confident he’d shaken any would-be followers, he began to take other measures to ensure the security of his identity and the private life of the one who called himself Icon. Using Hack-tools he’d obtained from the White Rabbit he confirmed that the security cameras from the Hub had not been cloned. At least not yet. This was good. It meant that unless this group kept eyes on the Hub for HUMINT[sup]1[/sup] it was fairly safe to say that he was in the clear altogether. Of course that wouldn’t mean he was all in the clear. If they do just maintain a presence and eyes on the venue, they could just photograph him as a person of interest for communicating with their target and plan to follow up on him later. He would come up with a cover story if approached… but ditching the car would add attention and draw greater scrutiny if that were the case. Questions upon questions. Contingency upon contingency. With cover stories to suit. An identity protected by a meticulously sculpted group of lies. All designed to reflect a designed façade when scrutinized from any angle. He considered Icon’s home. Should he make a pass? Check there weren’t eyes on that? Then he second-guessed the thought which came from instinct. [I]No. He’d been uncomfortable enough with approaching him at his place of business. The last thing he’s going to want to see is that you know where he lives. How do you explain that if he spots you? Even if you are just checking nobody’s staking out his home.[/I] [I]Besides… How much of this is really about doing him a favour, and how much is just digging into how likely anyone could actually get a bead on you? Typical self-interest and obsessive self-preservation.[/I] The sun was starting to show its face, so he made a spontaneous decision and decided to make another pass by Gunny’s house. He’d clearly shaken up the man earlier. Might as well put the old man’s mind at ease. He grabbed his gear bag and jumped in the car. He drove out to the old Colonel’s suburban home and waited on his front lawn. Standing in front of a tree, to obscure sight of him from the street and neighbours. As the sun rose he saw the house become animated. Lights go on in windows upstairs, before off again, leading to lights going on downstairs. Presumably the inhabitants going from waking up, and getting dressed, before making their way downstairs for breakfast and to greet the day. Eventually the front door opened as the old man shuffled out for the morning paper with his glasses on, presumably before having his morning coffee. The Vigilante waved a half salute from the tree he was leaning on. The old man quickly startled by his presence. He wasn’t supposed to be here. And certainly not in the light of day. “The Hell are you doing here?” The old Colonel growled. “That’s twice in hours.” [b]“Hmm. Thought I’d put your mind at ease after last night. You seemed concerned.”[/b] “And you seemed anxious.” He replied sharply. “When violent people I give weapons to seem anxious, I seem concerned.” The man in black chuckled. [b]“We’ll try this again… Do you recognize the man in the photograph?”[/b] He handed over the now more wrinkled-from-handling photograph over to older man, who took it, made a passing glance and handed it back. “I told you last night. It’s too blurry.” The Vigilante nodded, and smiled a wry grin. [b]“Yeah. I know. But you weren’t wearing your glasses last night, so that’s what I thought the issue was, but it wasn’t until later that I realized…”[/b] “I’m near-sighted.” [b]“You’re near-sighted.”[/b] They both said at once. [b]“You used prescription shooting glasses at the range. You never needed them for reading or looking at something like a photograph up close.”[/b] The older man just shrugged. “So what’s your point?” [b]“The point is, you helped me more than either of us first thought. I just wasn’t paying attention close enough at the time.”[/b] “So you’ve got him? The guy in the photo? You know who it is?” A wry grin widened through the balaklava. [b]“No. But I’ve got a direction. And that’s all I’ve ever needed.”[/b] He walked back towards the street, before turning back to the old man who had now finally retrieved his morning paper. [b]“Just thought you deserved to know. Now I’ve got work to do.”[/b] [hr] [sup]1[/sup] HUMINT for Human Intelligence. Intelligence gathered by interpersonal contact.