"Finally you do something."
Immediately, Tao regrets muttering the inevitable words that, although silent, could potentially be the downfall to the slyness he'd been able to maintain the whole day. Ever since the sun had risen, with an attractive sum of money as his drive, the young man had been searching, following, and stalking the now disguised stranger, taking silent pictures every so often to fully document his odd routine. Although the man who'd given him the task had been suspicious, perhaps even menacing, the promise of payment had been the defining factor for his acceptance--after all, who wouldn't want easy money?
Of course that had only been the momentary description: easy. What he didn't find out until later was that he'd be following a stranger around, an apparent professional criminal at that, trying not to be seen and without any protection. At that point, though, Tao had been in a small room with enough guards around for him to continue with his initial decision; he'd do it, but with a raised price. The money wasn't the only thing that appealed to him. There was a cinematic tint to everything: the smoking boss, the shades-wearing guards, the file handed to him, the notorious art thief. If everything went the way it should be, then in the end he'd be the main character--destined for the glory that came with capturing such prized head.
That's how his mentality had begun in the morning, his body excited for the task he'd romanticized for hours before sleeping, but as the day dragged on with the thief doing nothing but wasting both of their time, the glamour of it all had soon faded into a tiny, weak glint. For hours he'd contemplated giving up and letting the man live his bland, art viewing life without a random citizen following after him. It was in those times where he'd have to consider the money as well as the price of failure; one would cost him more than the other. So in the end he'd continued to be a shadow, nothing more than an echo of the man in front of him, until finally he'd decided to live up to his title of thief and criminal, and with a few clicks of his camera, Tao had captured enough for it to be incriminating, although 'enough' was a matter of opinion.
He waits, watches, excitement returning to dance in his eyes. Tao didn't just want to capture the moment, he wanted to see it happen from the inside, to sate his curiosity of knowing exactly how a single man could pull off an operation that would in the end cost thousands, tears, anger. With two hands the man was capable of igniting a storm, and Tao would be a fool if he didn't take pictures of the action he'd only be able to see once in a lifetime.
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