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Face waited outside the door a moment, then pocketed the tip. Heh, if he's the fancy actor now, he can afford to tip better...
He got back in the elevator and rode it down, rubbing his eyes and scowled as one of the brown contacts came back on his hand. He slipped the nametag off that he had swiped from the main greeting desk, and when the door opened, he stepped off back as a blue eyed man in a business suit.
Letting the nametag fall silently to the floor near the man's desk, he kept walking until he was outside, then took out his datapad, which looked like a palm pilot when set to not show in holo. He flipped the button a few times until he got the signal from the "bug" inside the room and watched the image of Ton reclining on the couch.
It hadn't been that long that Face forgot his friend's posture. It was way too eerily similar. But no, he would observe for now, and find the truth to this all.
Why couldn't Wes be on planet now? And with Wedge dealing with Hobbie... he was seriously alone on this job. And Face hated not having backup.
And no, he was NOT calling Victor. HELL no.
[Ooooh. Face is sneaky like ninja!]
Phanan flipped for a good long while before he settled on something on one of the movie channels. Ana had opened him up to the world of Hollywood after she found out about his gig, and they spent almost all their free time with movie rentals, or going to the theatre to see stuff.
This one was an old one that Phanan adored: Young Frankenstien. The first time Ana had rented this was shortly after he had told her everything about his past - where he truly came from, what he truly did before dying and then showing up mysteriously in LA. She took it in stride, but needed to go out for a walk by herself to assimilate the information.
She had returned with this movie, the original Frankenstien movie and Mary Shelley's Frankenstien; a 24-case of Pepsi and lots of popcorn. Then they watched them all back-to-back-to-back.
"Ah, Face. This movie would have made for good prank ideas...better than Kettch," he says to the empty room.
He gets up briefly to grab his script and idly flips through it as he watches the movie.
Face went to the nearby Starbucks and sat down, watching his datapad while sipping on his customary frap. More and more he was getting to believe that this really was Ton, but he wouldn't let himself fully believe it yet.
No, not until he was 100% sure.
But part of him wanted to act like a little boy and knock Ton's door down, and hug him tightly and then hit him for dying. It had taken all his control to not do that when he walked into the building earlier.
As much as he loved the movie, Phanan turned it off after only half and hour. That survival instinct was kicking in again. He changed into jeans and a t-shirt, grabbed his keys, wallet, cell phone and jacket, and headed out the door.
It was time for a recon run of the immediate area - and then some, if he had time.
He rode the elevator down to the lobby, nodded to the concierge, then paused. That wasn't the same guy. He pondered what that meant for half a second before he continued on outside, battle-sense on high alert now.
The Wraith inside him was still there and he gazed at the crowds on the sidewalk with a frown. Someone was watching him. It was time to draw them out.
He picked a direction and walked, taking in all the details without seeming to, ever vigilant for that tell-tale movement in the corner of his eye that was his tail...
Ahhh, but Face had been in New York for five months now, and the leader of the Wraiths knew just how to move in the city.
He had still been in the Starbucks across the street as he watched Ton walk out. His posture made him appear to look a bit edgy.. but then again he was in a new town, so that was expected.
He finished his frap, then picked up his gear... leaving behind his suit jacket on the chair, tie tucked inside. Someone was going to get a nice jacket when they realized it was abandoned.
Now in black pants and a black tight undershirt, Face grabbed one of the complimentary newspapers on his way out, and exited. Five dollars later, a yankees hat firmly on his head, he had the classified section of the paper out and walked along the street on the opposite side, acting the part of someone looking for a job and not caring about the people walking on the sidewalk with him.
A few blocks down, Phanan slowed down to gaze into the window of a store that sold women's clothing. It was more for the reflection of what was going on behind him, and across the street but no one needed to know that.
He pretended to window shop, stopping once or twice to ponder over displays. He knew that this was chancey, since visibility was quite low.
At another clothing store catering to women that had a nice, large window with a favourable display for spying through, he actually entered, keeping more of a covert eye on the street outside than on anything actually in the store.
When the saleswoman engaged him, he indulged her briefly before stating he was just looking. Once he had a good mental picture of the crowds outside, he left and continued on...
Face smirked to himself. The windowshopping technique. Yes, very good Ton, you still remember some things.
He walked past the shop, still on the opposite side of the street and turned a corner, tossing the paper into the trash. Seeing a homeless man there, Face knelt down and spoke quickly, trading the yankees cap and a few bucks with him for a newsboy's cap. Pulling out his sunglasses from his back pocket and his cell phone, he leaned against the wall, facing the store again while chatting on the phone to no one in particular.
Tourists were so easy to imitate.
I had to go and jump on that movie thing, instead of honing my super-spy skills... Phanan thought bitterly. The one tail I get would be a professional...
This time he stopped in the path of some lady - who bumped into him and then cursed him for being born - as he thought of something.
Sithspit! The only professional stalkers that would pick me as a target would be...no! That's impossible, they'd still be...wouldn't they?
But what if they weren't? If he, Phanan had ended up here - who cares about being dead - the odds that the others might be here, for whatever reason, would be pretty good.
He turned on his heal and headed, briskly, but without any outward alarm, back to his place.
[-=gets yoda out of head before repping=-]
Ok Ton look-alike... what are you thinking Face mused as he stopped and let Ton walk straight past him as he bent over to pick up the cell phone he accidently dropped... and left a tracking device on the ground that was in perfect spot for Ton to step on as he passed.
He wouldn't risk continuing to follow Ton today in sight range. The target was getting edgy, and that could lead to problems if he continued to feel eyes on him. No, his tracking device would let Face make sure he stayed on main streets and stores and didn't accidently get pulled into an alley to be mugged or something.
It was a fun way to test his 3D map of the city he spent the first 3 months in New York creating on his datapad.
*phhhts and uses correct journal this time*
Phanan retraces his steps back to his building. Walks into the building, heads up the elevator and locks himself inside his penthouse. He leans against the door and takes a deep breath.
On a whim, he starts pattng himself down, then strips, examining each pieceof clothing. He bumped into a lot of people and knowing his friends, they would have used the opportunity and tagged him.
When nothing is yielded from the clothing, he checks his shoes. Seeing nothing visible, he grabs a knife from the kitchen and scrapes down the soles. The tiny device is almost missed as it falls off, but he grins.
He leaves it on the counter to go put on clothing. He's fairly sure that there's another bug in the house. Now, to get whomever is listening in's attention.
He grabs the tracking device, opens a window, and tosses it out. That should give who ever it is a heartattack...And make them do a visual check of the apartment...
He waited a few minutes before saying out loud. "I'm not going to bother looking for your device. I know it's in here and you can hear me, possibly even see me. There's only one person I know that can sneak into a building like this on a planet full of humans. Face, you mynock..." he trails off and shakes his head.
Heart attack? Yeah, just a bit, enough to have Face running back to the hotel until he heard the tiny voice in the commlink receiver in his ear. Then he grinned.
Entering the building and slipping into the bar, Face sat down and pulled out the datapad, switching it back to Ton's apartment view. Heh. He looked pissed.
Smirking, Face decided to test Ton and see what he would do if he confirmed it was him tracking his best friend.
From inside Ton's apartment, the "bug" made a little noise.
Scritch Scritch Scritch
Phanan's features soften, and he almost grins. "Force, Loran, I know I said cuteness should be preserved, but that's ridiculous. And I'm still not looking for it; knowing you it's got a dozen speakers set up around this place."
He walks to the door, slips his shoes back on, picks up his discarded jacket and personal things, pokets them and adds, "Starbucks. Now. You're buying."
Face smirked. If it was a clone, it was a damned good one. Time to see what exactly was happening.
Face quickly made his way out of the place before Ton had even left his apartment and got a table, using his hat to cover his face. After all, Ton had never seen the ex-actor without his scar... so it'll be interesting to see his reaction.
It's not so much the face, as it is everything else. Phanan knows which one is his friend, the same way an infant knows his or her parents.
But still, no need to be an idiot. He takes his time walking over to the table, noting every move from the man in front of him, as well as other patrons.
He stops a respectable distance away from Face and asks, "Excuse me, but is this seat taken?"
His customary smirk firmly in place, Face tilted his head up to look at Ton. "Might be. I'm waiting for someone, but I'm not sure if it's really him that I'm going to be meeting."
"Well, if he's the kind of guy that I think he is, he isn't going to mind my sitting here." He sits opposite Face.
He shows no outward reaction to the lack of a scar. "And you can tell him from me that it's a damned good thing you followed his instructions regarding that Force-forsaken scar." Beat. "Or else I'd have had to beat you senseless."
"See, it's hard for me to tell him that because he's technically been dead for about 6 years now," Face stated firmly, his eyes slipping from amusment to the eyes of a seasoned intel officer.
Yes, Ton had left before the Wraiths became Intel. He wouldn't know the training they had now. And Face, with his own personal inherited skills from Lorrd, was probably the best at reading people.
"Pardon my skeptisim, but induldge me on how you came to be here, sir?"
Phanan's face falls in sadness at the formal tone to Face's question. Not to mention being called 'sir' by your best friend as if he didn't know you hurt. A lot.
Softly, "Well, I'd be smart and say I got on a plane in L.A. and it dropped me off in New York, but you'd probably vape me."
He takes a deep, shuddering breath and knowing he really has nothing to lose, says simply, "My last memory was of the Iron Fist in orbit around Halmad, you dragging me on your charming little speeder bike to get medical help for me - the lost cause you were hell-bent on saving. After that, just a bunch of brightness, and then I was sitting on a beach somewhere in L.A."
He shrugs, "that's it. That's all I know."
Face took is all in, watching Ton's breathing pattern and reading his posture. He was telling the truth.
"How long have you been here?" His voice softened, letting Ton know he was believing him and relaxing a bit.
Another shrug. "About seven or eight months now. Give or take. What about you? I'm certain your presence here is much more sinister and not conversation material, but whatever you can tell me, cover or otherwise?"
"Five months. But alot has changed. More than you'd even think." Face stood up. "Let's get a drink and go back to your place. It's safe... the only bugs there were mine." He smirked a bit. "So your place is paparatzzi free."
Phanan nods. "Yeah, it probably is; and you would know better than me. I would have swept the room, but, alas, no equipment." He grins, "And I've been pretty good at avoiding those soul-less bastards."
He stands, then adds, "And like I said, you're buying."
Face pulled out a twenty and handed it to Ton. "Get what you want. I'll just take a mocha frap."
Phanan orders, pays, fixes his latte up - four sugars in honour of Ana - and leads Face out the door, handing him his mocha frap and the change.
When they reach the elevator and are on their way up, Phanan gives Face curious look. "So...when do you plan on hitting me?"
"Not sure yet. Saving it for the right moment," Face smirked around his straw. "If you can't tell, but I'm still kinda wierded out about this."
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lonely