Lost in Thought (N.K. Wells)

The Detroit Institute of Arts, located in Midtown Detroit, Michigan, has one of the largest and most significant art collections in the United States. Not exactly a high profile target for super powered villains or political terrorist, but something worth protecting all the same. That's why the young man in the sleek pinstripe suit was happy to seal this deal with a hearty handshake and a pleasant grin. From now on, the NPPMF would handle security at the DIA.

"Thank you, Mr. Javian, and please, I do hope you'll take the time to stay and enjoy this week's exhibit," the DIA's head curator exclaimed with a jovial smile as he opened the door to his office. He was surprised at how generous the rates had been for the final security plan. It was true that the New Path Conglomerate didn't really stand to make any significant profit from this particular contract, however now the DIA was just one more large scale property in Detroit that fell into the NPPMF's jurisdiction. Yet another large plot of land in which NPPMF security contractors could operate with a certain degree of impunity. All under the guide of protecting the client's interests.

Oh, and it was also very important to protect culture and historical art is irreplaceable... and all of that nonsense.

"I think I'll do just that," Javian replied casually as he walked with the curator. Just signing his name on a few papers was not enough. Keeping the client happy was his main mission objective for today. So he wore his best business smile and provided plenty of positive reinforcement as the curator went on and on to extol his own exaggerated exploits in arranging the exhibition.

At least the art itself was interesting. Of all things to find on display at an art museum, the exhibit had a myriad of comic books and prints by comic book artists. It looked more like a convention than an exhibit. Where they going for a contemporary art angle? Maybe pop culture? Or was it just a desperate ploy to get kids interested in culture? As if on cue, the curator and Javian had to stop and let a small group of giggling kids pass in front of them.

"Eh heh," Javian couldn't help but chuckle. Noticing the curator took exception to this, Javian didn't miss a beat and turned to him.

"You've done a wonderful job of reaching out to the community and giving today's youth a much needed taste of culture," Jay provided the lip service, sounding a sincere as possible.

"Yes! Exactly, and who knows? One of these kids might be the next Rembrandt!" The curator seemed to eat it up, and then immediately launched back into his self glorifying spiel. As he pretended to listen, Javian found himself standing before a large print of a particularly famous and noteworthy panel from a popular comic. The panel featured a proud masked man posing over a group of henchmen knocked out on the ground. A speech bubble above his head held a witty one liner. The panel was blown up so that the hero depicted would be life sized. No wait, slightly bigger. As if heroes as a concept were larger than life. Javian found himself standing face to face with him, staring up into the blank white eyes of his mask.

Javian was a bit surprised when he heard someone chime in. It didn't show much though. He may have seemed relaxed, but he was always ready to roll with the punches. Especially considering that he sometimes did actually have to do just that- with actual punches being thrown.

His first instinct would be to just nod and agree with her, and focus on his target. However, something caught his eye as he looked over to her and listened to her critique. The shirt she was wearing depicted a comic book character of similar ascetic as the work she was disparaging. He had obviously done research before coming here to do business. He knew about the museum and what exhibit they'd have. Of course he knew who N. K. Wells was, and what her main characters were.

"Oh, I don't know," he started off, not actually stating that her opinion was either right or wrong. Though, he immediately had decided to take the opposite opinion as her. He didn't really have a good reason why. It was probably just that he didn't like the fact that she was purposely trying to device him. Trying to lead him along in their conversation.

"I think it's quite deep, actually. It speaks to me and says volumes," he did actually mean that. Something about the hero standing there had resonated with him.

"An artist puts a bit of themselves in their work, but the observer withdraws something from their own perspective as well," he went on to explain as a couple of kids ran up around them and began to fawn over the image of their hero.

"With enough subtext, even something made for a child can become an entirely different world to an adult," He concluded his thought. Though he still didn't actually say what he thought of it.

"Like all art- and all things, it's open to interpretation," he made sure to preface it with this as he looked back to the proud hero standing above him.

"But, to me... This work shows the world very clearly. From what it's like to win and be a hero," he then looked to the henchmen knocked out all around the hero.

"To what it's like to lose," he stated finally. As he did, he could not help but think back to the only true loss he had ever really suffered. Thankfully, he wasn't the brooding type and he was still maintaining his business smile, but his eyes had already began to wander as he became lost in his thoughts.

The pop of the bubble was perfect for ripping Jay away from his thoughts and back to reality.

"Eh heh," he chuckled as he listened to her thoroughly unimpressed reply. Of course, nothing she said was technically wrong, so naturally he didn't try to object. He gave her a slight nod as she went to make her exit, only to be stopped by the curator. He arched an eyebrow at the curator's response to the young woman's ID, though he didn't quite see what it said himself.

"Well, thanks for the tour Mr. Hamrich," Jay came up besides the curator while he was still flustered over N.K.'s reveal.

"I can see you're quite busy, yourself. The boys should already be all setup, and you've got my card. So just let me know if you've got any questions," Jay decided to take advantage of the girl's intrusion to take his leave of the old windbag. Looking past him to the young art critic his business smile changed just slightly, but transformed into a confident smirk.

"I'd try to keep a more open mind, if I were you. You never know when subtext will defeat the facade," he tried his best to leave with something witty, before turning to make his exit. Unlike her, he was let free to go. Hamrich the curator was glad to be done with Jay, and instead switched over to fawning over his star artist. Javian didn't go far, though.

"Status report," he whispered under his breath just after rounding the corner. Shortly after that, a prompt reply came through the discrete earpiece he had been wearing. With the DIA within his control, it was time to begin making his move.

Everything seemed to be going according to plan. Now it was just a matter of- Rushed steps rapidly approached The Lost from behind. He had only a short split second to decide on a course of action, and then act upon it. It was in that particular moment he decided to do nothing.

"Oh, well. We meet again?" Jay turned to the young woman who had bumped into him. Of course, he did not hesitate to crouch down and offer his hand to help her up. If this was a combat situation he would have stopped her before she had gotten that close to him, but given the current setting he wagered that she was not an assassin. There was no real need to deploy any kind of countermeasures, and attempting anything might even have had some negative repercussions if he had done anything over the top. By standing perfectly still, he shifted all of the blame onto her. The thought that she might actually get hurt didn't even cross his mind.

Meanwhile, the changing of the guard had already been complete. The New Path professional security contractors had replaced the usual rent-a-cop security guards that the DIA had previously employed. Of course, they were briefed on how to use the old security system and were fully prepared to utilize it until the new equipment could be installed. The DIA was now officially the latest step along The New Path.

He allowed her to fall into him, doing his part to catch her. Thus, making it that much easier for her to reach into his pocket. While his eyes remained focused on eye level, his peripherals watched her movements carefully. Hers and the crowd behind her.

Not that he was able to see anything of note, though. She had properly obscured her movements from his vision. He didn't feel anything either. With her skillful slight of hand he didn't even know what was missing yet. He couldn't see through her lie, either. It was too good. The question, 'why would she need physical therapy?' put backstory into what she had said. It made it feel alive and real. He didn't even suspect it was a lie, let alone see through it.

So how did he know that she was a pick pocket? Well, he didn't. Not really.

He was just wary of the possibility. Ever since she had bumped into him, he thought about it. It didn't help that she was now falling into him. It was almost a cliche routine. Paranoid, one might call him, and they'd be right if he wasn't missing his wallet. That bittersweet victory when your paranoia becomes justified caution. Now he could very easily reach for his pockets and check before she could get away, but that would be bad form. He didn't want to cause a disturbance after all. Not here. Not when he was in charge of security. Having no incidents on their first day was more valuable than whatever she might get from him.

"Don't worry about it," he replied to her as he accepted her card. He reached into his suit's inside pocket and produced a card of his own to exchange for hers. As he handed her his, he read over hers. It was surprise to find out who she was, but he processed the information quickly and took it with stride.


It also had a number and an email, but neither looked personal. Furthermore, the card had the New Path silver compass on it. The same compass that he wore as a silver pin on his lapel.

"I'm sure we'll meet again, soon," he added she went to go. As soon as he had, he also turned away and began to walk off. Again, he didn't go far. When he was out of earshot, he began whispering again.

"Do you have eyes on the woman who just bumped into me?" By then, he had checked his pockets discretely and found what was missing. He didn't know why he was surprised. Maybe it was a pleasant surprise. There was more to her than met the eye, just as he had suspected. She was interesting. Also, he was right. Being right felt good. H

"She just ducked into one of the women's rest rooms," a voice responded. He grit his teeth. It would take a bit extra time for the nearest female contractor to reach the target, but he had little other choice. It'd cause a scandal if he sent a man after her. So he gave the order. The two closest contractors were males, but he met up with them anyway, and move into position to wait in ambush outside the restrooms. They maintained an inconspicuous distance from each other, and the bathroom in question. All to remain low profile.

Long before the female agents could follow her inside, the pick pocket would have had plenty of time to search the wallet thoroughly.

The wallet seemed to be of good quality. All of the slots for cards were empty, however. No IDs, no credit cards, no bank cards, and no library cards. Not even a Walmart rewards card. There was plenty of cash at least. A decent stack of it. In large bills. In a way, the wallet was very telling in other ways. He wasn't the kind of man who would carelessly carry information that could easily be lost- or taken.

There was one other thing in the wallet, though she might not have found it. A small device about the size of a dime. It was underneath the fabric inside the wallet, and you'd have to rip it open to get at it. It was a very simple tracing device. Perhaps, the one thing that would tell her the most about him. He was a man who strove to be prepared for every contingency.

Finally, the female contractor entered the restroom. She wore the same plain black suit that the two men outside wore, and all of them had matching pins like Javian's. They all had earpieces, too.

"Miss, Wells? Are you in there?" the woman would ask, just as she was told to.

"Pardon me, ma'am," the agent would respond to Lindsey Brown, before turning away and taking a step or two aside. She'd then raise two fingers to her ear.

"Negative contact on Miss Wells," she whispered in a calm voice.

"Exits?" Javian questioned over the radio. A quick scan of the room revealed that there was a window, but it was impossibly small and too high up. Of course, there were no other doors out of the restroom.

"Just the one," she'd quickly reply.

"The item?" Javian would shoot back. The woman would then produce a smart phone, which already had the appropriate tracking app loaded up. She followed it to the stall's trash bin, where the wallet had been deposited. The very same stall that she saw Mrs. Brown exit from. As soon as she found the item, she quickly turned back towards where she had last seen the young woman in the wheelchair.

"Mrs. Brown?" she'd call out for her. If she was already gone, she'd quickly report that Miss Wells was in disguise, and describe Mrs. Brown's appearance over the radio. Even before then, the surveillance team would have kept eyes on anyone who left the bathroom regardless of surface appearance. Agents would be mobilized to slowly close a perimeter around her. It was only a matter of time until she was caught, unless she had more tricks up her sleeve.

((OOC: I'm okay with you changing the actions you took in your last post if you don't like how things turned out. I know we were both tired.))

(As I said before) Regardless of surface appearance, anyone who had left the bathroom would be spotted by a member of the security team watching the door. By then, it'd be too late to try and blend into the crowd. She was already marked.

However, knowing what the suspect looked like, and having not yet received the report about the disguise, Javian would initially dismiss her as a low priority suspect. He'd just lazily point in the vague direction towards one of the two men watching the door with him, and then point after the woman leaving the scene of interest.

It was the signal for him to tail her. He lazy demeanor in which he had performed the hand sign added an extra level of subtext. It said, 'It's probably nothing, but just go ahead and follow procedure anyway- cause procedures are there to be followed.'

Even if she wasn't the main suspect, she could have been an accomplice who had been passed the item. Much father down the priority list, he was also vaguely acknowledged the possibility that it could have been her in disguise. However he and the rest of the team remained focused on the door until the agent inside reported about the disguise. The moment she said wheelchair, he immediately began moving after the woman who had just left the restroom in a wheelchair. It didn't really matter that the other details didn't match up, though he did make a note of the inconsistency. As he went, he casually threw up a finger and made a circular motion then pointed towards the direction of the woman who had left restroom in a wheelchair.

The man sent to tail her would have known not to get close and would try to make it look like he wasn't following her. So it may have seemed like she had slipped past the security team, but he wouldn't lose her if all she was doing was attempting to blend in with the crowd. Regardless of the amount of wheelchairs in the crowd. Innocent until proven guilty, though. No need to make her feel like a criminal when she was still a low priority target. However, when he got the description including a wheel chair, alarm bells would go off in his head. The suspect he was tailing suddenly jumped up in the priority list.

Javian would first spot the man tailing her, then he'd follow his signal towards the suspect. He'd signal for the group to stop and then fan out. They too, would attempt to blend into the crowd. To those who weren't on alert, they probably wouldn't have stood out. Though anyone trying to look for them in the crowd would be able to find spot them quickly enough.

Javian didn't bother to blend. He marched right up to the woman his man was tailing. He glanced at her visitor pass. As he did, he silently listened to the last of the inside agent's follow up report while wearing his best business smile. By then, the inside agent had discretely confirmed that all the other women in the restroom were not Wells as Jay had described her. Each of them had a tail assigned to them as they left the restroom, anyway. Either Wells had flushed herself down the toilet, or one of these women was her in disguise, and number one on the suspect list was the one who first left the restroom in a wheelchair.

"Having a good time, ma'am?" he'd speak is a calm and controlled tone.

"Honestly? More than I thought I would," he played along without dropping a beat. As he did, he scanned her over with his peripherals, focusing on details only when he thought he could get away with it discretely. At this distance, it was clear that she was not the woman that his agent had described, or at least she didn't appear to be her. Among the inconsistencies, he also noted the consistencies. From the obvious note of the wheelchair, to the less obvious detail of her finger biting. They were important clues and evidence. Now it as just a matter of waiting for the right moment to play his cards.

There's no way he could know for sure, but he was smart enough to be aware of all possibilities. While it was always smarter to focus on the more likely possibilities, it was also good to keep the less likely possibilities within your plans. After all, once you ruled out the possible, all that's left is the impossible.

Was it implausible that a pick pocket would have stowed away a wheelchair in a bathroom, just to create a more convincing disguise later on? Entirely, but still within the realm of possibilities. Was it implausible that a mere pick pocket would go to such lengths? Perhaps, but it is more likely when you consider who her target was and how important he was.

The fact that the large amount of cash hadn't been taken, would have been a huge clue towards this. The condition of the item was also reported to him by the inside agent, but she had reported that the wallet was empty.

It's was now more than plausible that she was aiming for Jonathan Javian. Perhaps she confirming her target when she first approached him. Perhaps, she was an enemy that he should crush right now with one super powered, surprise left hook.

Javian took a moment to take in the gallery as a whole. Of course he was aware of the fact that he could very likely kill her instantly with one punch, but that would hardly be a victory if you consider the repercussions. If it weren't for his all important pride and reputation, he could easily kill her and be done with this entire ordeal. The idea that this was a weakness holding him back, keeping himself from doing what he really wanted, also occurred to him. Sadly, he was powerless to do anything about it at the moment. So for now, he played her game.

"Cut off the feed from my comm," he spoke quietly, but loud enough for the girl next to him to hear. Then he reached up and physically took the earpiece out to really drive the point home. He looked squarely to her, but kept smiling has he glared at her.

"You know, this is a crazy world we live in. There are events all around the world that cannot easily be explained. I like to call them, irregular events. Why an irregular event occurred right here, today. A mere pick pocket, of all things, has managed to allude my crack team of highly trained security personal," he started out as if he were talking about someone completely different.

"An irregular individual like that, you know... she's quite the interesting one. I'd love to sit down one day and have a nice simple chat with her," and finally, he extended the olive branch. His security team had dispersed into the crowd, but they were still there. As they slowly and carefully closed in on her, it'd be harder and harder for them to stay hidden from her. The net was closing in around her, and he was giving her only one way out. She could reveal herself to just him as an irregular, or he'd be forced to expose her to everyone.