They finally came to an end to their chase deep in a district of warehouses in various stages of occupation and/or dilapidation.  Angel's big car was sitting in an empty lot.  Wesley took out a cell phone, staring at it for a moment as it is unfamiliar to him, borrowed from Cordelia.  He dialed, and then said.  "Cordelia?  I'm down off 2nd street, it appears your information was good.  How long?  We'll wait."<br/><br/>He hung up the phone.  "They'll be here in ten minutes.  One of two possibilities exists at this moment, and neither one does us any good going off alone.  First... he put down arrangements with an underworld contact that is notorious for, in Cordelia's slang, 'rent-a-hideouts' in this area.  He also arranges back-up transport.  So either Angelus has Spike in some concealed hideout in the area, or he's taken another car and left.  If he's left, we don't have any other leads til he spends more money.  If he's here... we're going to need back-up.  So you might as well start by telling me who you are.  Apprently you know who *I* am somehow, but I'll introduce myself anyway, for politeness' sake.  I am Wesley Wyndam-Pryce.  One of Angel's associates, and a former Watcher.  And you are...?"