With pickpocketing, a delicate art, you have to distract the mark enough so that they are beside themselves. It is nothing more than a sleight of hand, no different than a card trick. In some cases it is delicate, grabbing information, monetary gain, or perhaps a valuable ruble. Jack in this case was none but all—it was just practice for something bigger. With the black hood pulled over his head there was nothing more than determination that lingered behind his eyes. A winter face mask pulled up over his nose and mouth to keep his face hidden, and fingerless gloves adoring his hands. 

Dead eyes. 

A lot of things pulled him back and forth between his own thoughts and the focus dedicated to several jobs at once. Scouting for one, keeping a bead on his surroundings so he could stay in an area he was familiar with. Keeping fingers nimble, a practice of using small objects in his pocket, juggling them between fingers, generally quarters. Quarters had a nice weight to them, a familiar weight that put up enough resistance. An orange tinted HUD that beeped every once and a while was one of them. 

Beep…beep  

It was like a little alarm clock, or a metal detector, picking marks at random points to keep him on his toes. For the moment it was a business man, the seed of distraction was placed when his phone rang. Seizing this opportunity would be for the best and the moment the obnoxious ring town persisted it was go time. 

Enter in Edward Gurshan businessman.

Jack sped up, from a trudge to a brisk walk and turned his head once he picked the target—the left pocket, and the briefcase. He had it on good authority that Edward worked for ICARUS so passing up an opportunity for information wasn’t allowed. Not today it wasn’t. Jack’s shoulder firmly planted itself into Edwards sternum—making it seem like he needed to catch something over head. Bowling over another person was definitely expected “I got it!” shouting to an imaginary friend, putting his hands up, then down the moment he made contact. 

Fingers explored the wealth of the pocket in a matter of seconds, palming off a flash drive before toppling down as well. “Sorry about that sir” Scrambling around to help him up, brushing off MR.Gurshan’s jacket. “Nice suit.” A passing compliment, as Gurshan pushed him away, still listening to the phone—incredibly preoccupied. Jack turned away, clutching the desired parcel. Moving back into the crowd like it never happened, shoulders rolled forward, hood pulled forward shuffling deeper into the throng.

EXIT STAGE LEFT