Ambrose isn't sure how he got roped into getting breakfast with this stooge of Johns, It took a while, but he began to realize where he was, He still wasn't going to let it go. He didn't have a commlink. Which meant he didn't have access to his money, home, car, gadgets, nothing. All the work he went through with the turks down the drain because the fates seemed to conspire against him, forcing him now in a situation where he was the only bum who didn't have on even an armored clothing. He was dressed in brownish beige, and pond scum.
And it wasn't like he could even attempt to get out of the place where he was most likely to get shot, as he didn't have a sin to broadcast anymore. Not like this. This fool of a took thinks he had saved Ambrose's life, when in reality, a simple fact that Ambrose knew too well, he just delayed the inevitable. If the club didn't burn, there was no way he could ever go home in peace.
Now he was here, in breakfast place. He needed a knife or fork or some other tool. Preferably something metal. Something plastic could help. And he needed a bloody commlink, and something decent to wear. Fashion accessory his foot. That coat was more than a fashion accesssory. A black hat is a fashion accessory. A long coat is a tool, a weapon, a home. There was lots more he could do with the coat.. and whats more was both the coat and his cloths were tailored specifically for his profession. Of course the Took wouldn't ever understand that, the need to keep things hidden. Look at him there, looking so smug right now. I know he's good at hiding it, he's that kind of person after all.
First off the, every bomb needed fuel, Sugar used to be a good fuel. Not the best for making the biggest boom, but it does have its uses for some light weight explosives. Calories where important, even if it was something in food. Mixed with a bit of alcohol or gasoline. Well Gasoline and Styrofoam for anti-personal explosives. Sinking the building was going to be harder without some good plastics but for now..
"Coffee, and Lots of sugar." he hoped it was real sugar, then at least he'd have that starting to go for him. "What is in a name? As of currently, I don't have anything to it, but whatever. Phoenix. Your employer should have told you that much at least before he hired you to take his fall. Though I admit that Spittingcobra and the army wrench probably screwed with something on my plans. And if you can fix my leg, fine. There is more important things than my leg though. I need equipment, and as far as I'm concerned you work for your employer, and your employer owes me."