Nano 2012 Day Eleven

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The floor was cold and his joints hurt. The mime slowly opened his eyes to see his lounge right in front of him. He could hear the sound of someone moving around. He very slowly straightened himself and then brought himself up onto his haunches. He saw a large figure in his kitchen seemingly using his blender. He could smell something citrus-like and tart in the air. He was making a fruit smoothie? He recognized him as the hairy beast who laid him out at the door. Had he seen him? It didn't seem so. He quickly looked to the left to see if his front door was open. It was firmly shut but it didn't look like it had been locked. He felt his pocket and his keys were in there. It seemed like a good idea to just escape from now and work out his next move. He didn't have his make up on so he shouldn't attract too much attention, though he normally didn't like going out without his face on.

He slowly lowered himself back to the floor and started squirming towards the door as quick as he could, trying not to make any sound. The hairy one seemed caught up in his smoothie. He got to the door ad reached up to the handle.

"Better if you don't." The beast growled from in the kitchen.

The mime let his hand drop, along with his hopes. "Why are you here? Why did you hit me?"

"It is easier to get people under control first before I deal with them. Normally."

"You could have just told me why you were here."

"Once you knew, you may have tried to escape. You may have tried to trick me or hurt me. I can't take that risk."

The mime slowly stood up, his jaw was killing him. "So why are you here?"

"I know who you are." The mime was puzzled. He didn't really have anything in his past that he needed to hide, aside from his recent explosive run in with his past. But that was no-one's business but his own and the mime academy, and this guy definitely wasn't from the academy.

"Look, you are big and strong and have the ability to cause me major further pain. So I'll be completely honest with you and say even I don't know who I am, really. So what are you talking about? Am I meant to be scared that you "know who I am""?

"You are Nicholas Gettz."

"Nicholas... OH."

The man said nothing but picked up his mixture from the blender and poured it into a tall glass he had ready on the counter and sipped from it, all the while with his gaze fixed on the mime. The mime slowly repositioned himself so he was seated with his back against the wall and thought about his next move. This was going to be delicate.

"I'm not Nicholas though. I know why you would think I am though."

The man put down his drink. "There is no point in disputing this. We have been tracking your movements since you first made your public appearance at Prague."

"Yes, that's the point! He never made a public appearance!"

"What do you mean?"

"He hired me to make the appearance for him. I'm an actor. People get me to appear for them when they don't want to, and I take on aspects of their personality."

The big hairy man appeared to be thinking this over. "Is there any way you can prove this to me? Do you have your correspondence with my client?"

"No, I keep that all on separate data stores, far away from where I happen to be living at the time. But if you look in my printer right now, I was actually printing out the data for a new job when you came in."

"Where is your printer?"

"In the room connected to the kitchen to your right. In the back corner."

The man took another long sip from his drink as he considered this. He put the glass down and sighed with obvious relish and wiped his lip. "Alright. Get up and take me there."

The mime slowly stood up and walked into his lounge area, past the lounge where he had been so comfortable not that long ago, and to the small table at the back of the room. He gave the lounge a short, longing look as he walked past it then crouched in front of the table. The table had nothing on top of it but did have a small door set underneath its ledge which took a small key. The mime reached into his top and felt the big man's hand grab his wrist as he reached in.

"I'm getting a key."

"It is on a necklace?"

"Yes."

"I will get it.

The man let go of the mime's wrist and pulled his hand away. The mime felt his fingers on the back of his neck as he grasped the thin chain that sat there with surprisingly gentle motions. He fixed his fingers around the chain and pulled it up until the small key was visible.

"OK, you take it and unlock the door."

The mime grabbed the door and detached it from the chain, then pushed a small, almost invisible panel on the front of the wooden door that swung open to reveal a keyhole. He inserted the key and turned it till he heard a small 'click', then turned it in the opposite direction till he heard another, then another. He returned the key to it's original vertical position and withdrew it from the lock.

"Now, before I open this up you have to realise this material is normally strictly confidential. You cannot share what I show you to anyone aside from I guess your employer to avoid me getting hurt again, OK? This is my job and I can be killed by other scary men like.. I guess... yourself. No offence."

The man's face did not change.  "None taken. Let's see what is in there. I will not tell anyone but my employer, I do not get more involved than I need to."

"Alright then." The mime swung open the door to reveal a pristine laser printer next to a small safe. He pulled the still warm pages from the output tray and handed them to the man.

"See? This is detailing the personality profile I am meant to be following for the next assignment."

"What is this with the conversation and the nicknames going back and forth?"

"That's the client talking in a chat room. That's the only place they know them from so far."

"Which one is your client?"

"Kusa."

"Hmm." The man kept reading. After a couple of minutes he looked up and said, "Kusa seems like an interesting person. A little bit of a bully maybe?"

Interesting thing for you to say, the mime thought to himself. "Yes I was thinking that. I aim not to bring out too many of the bad points in real life though, I try to add a bit of extra charm to my clients if it's going to help them. Of course, sometimes I am asked to act the opposite so as to aggravate a response. Especially if I am not playing the client themselves."

The man raised an eyebrow, you have done espionage then?

"Yes, on occaision. You'd think I would be... well..."

"More careful about opening the door to a stranger?"

"I never expected to choke. The sudden lack of oxygen to my brain must have stopped up the part that thought clearly."

"Hm." The man read a little more, "Yes this seems like it checks out. Only..."

"Only what?"

"How do I know this is actually your house?"

"Wh..what?"

"Well, I have only been tracking you. I do not know that you actually have the lease on this house, for all I know you could be here on a timed arrangement with someone, camping out for a while, or possibly even breaking in on a regular basis. You have to admit, it fits Nicholas's MO."

"His... well, yes." The mime thought back on that client. He was a greasy corporate criminal who had political aspirations. His only problem was that he would visibly sweat in public situations, "Nixon Syndrome", the mime liked to think of it as. Probably because nearly everything he said was a lie. Which also included what the specifics of the mission he was sent on were. The mime had gone out for a greet and meet during a political campaign and delivered a speech that had been prepared for Nicholas to win over new candidates, wearing several prosthetics on his face. While he had been giving the speech, Nicholas (later thought to have been one of his aides) conducted several high-profile trades thanks to a friend within the stock market that gave him several million dollars in a very short amount of time and then jumped on a jet out of the country. He timed it so it seemed that he was just hiding out in the country and by the time they put a block on the airports looking for him (after the mime's speech finished), he was already on the next plane in his trip to the far East. Of course, the mime had his own ways to disappear, and once he had finished his speech he quickly jumped into the hired car that he had arranged and took it to a nearby alley where he disappeared into an in-descript door and then changed his clothes and face so as to be unrecognisable. Once he was back where he was living at that time, he did the usual thing after an assignment whereby he didn't really leave for a good three months and moved his payment around his bank accounts.