“I already hate them. They’ve killed Scott, murdered an unfortunate cabby, and wrecked my life. I want to get even.”
“Good, that’s a healthy emotion. But even the worst general knows there are times when you have to run away in order to fight another day. This is one of those times. There’s more involved here than just the government. There’s always the possibility of being able to play one group against the other.”
“Against the government, John? I don’t see how that’s possible.”
“Everyone wants something. If you control what they want, then you can force a trade for what you want.”
“I don’t know.”
“Trust me,” he said.
“Did you hear that in a movie? No one trusts someone who says ‘trust me.’“
“Yeah, I know. It was meant to be funny.”
“Oh, an ice breaker. You’re out of practice.”
He shrugged. “Come on; let’s see if Felipe is ready for us.”
John offered her a hand. She took it, and he pulled her to her feet. For a moment, they stood still, their faces less than 6 inches apart. She stared into his eyes, and then reluctantly dropped his hand.
He led the way farther into the warehouse and through another door. There they found Felipe working with a pre-positioned camera like those at the DMV.
“It’s ready,” Felipe said.
With a wave of his hand, he called their attention to a counter, sink, mirror, and makeup lights.
“Is there anything you don’t have?” Caitlin asked.
“I don’t have a stylist or a manicurist, yet. Give me a while, I’m thinking of expanding.”
“Yeah, he’s also thinking of expanding and competing with the DMV on a legitimate basis. You know they’re privatizing everything in government these days,” John said, his voice serious.
Caitlin studied him for a second, decided he wasn’t serious after all and went to examine the wigs.
They looked real. Someone had sold their hair to make this wig. It depressed Caitlin to think there were people who needed money bad enough to sell their own hair. She picked up a short, black wig and slipped it over her head. In the mirror, her own black hair hung out from under the shorter black strains.
“That’s the Demi Moore.”
She turned Felipe watching her.
“On you, it works. You got the right skin tones and all, but you really could just cut your own hair to get the same look.”
Caitlin turned to John. “What do you think?”
“I think it won’t change your appearance enough. They’re already looking for someone with long black hair; it doesn’t take a leap of imagination to identify the same person with short black hair.”
She pulled the wig off and dropped it on the counter. “All right then, you choose for me.”
John came beside her, glanced over the display, and then selected a long, red wig with enough body to stand on its own.
“Lord, you don’t really see me like that do you?” Caitlin asked.
“Just try it on,” he said as he held it out.
Caitlin took it and turned it until she had it aligned. Peering into the mirror, she whipped it over her head and pulled it tight.
“Yeah, the Reba McIntire, good choice John.”
Caitlin ignored him and studied her reflection. “I don’t think I can pull it off. My skin is too dark.”
“Felipe will handle that. Won’t you Felipe?”
“Sure John. Have a seat Caitlin; I’ll be right with you.”
Caitlin sat on a stool in front of the makeup lights and mirror and sat down. In a minute, Felipe joined her and stared at her reflection.
He nodded to himself a couple of times, and then opened a makeup case.
Twenty minutes later, he stepped back and pronounced his work complete. Caitlin took a good look in the mirror. Her normally olive skin was lightened to the point of pinkness. Her dark eyebrows had been bleached out, and Felipe had even given her a few freckles across the bridge of her noise.
“Freckles?” John asked coming up behind her.
“I thought it gave her a look of innocence,” Felipe replied.
Caitlin saw that John had been busy also. He was now wearing a full beard that was frosted with gray.
She suppressed a grin and said, “My, don’t you look distinguished. Is that what you’re going to look like in twenty years?”
“Perhaps, assuming I live that long.”
Caitlin felt her smile slipping away.
“Let me help you with the wig,” Felipe said.
Caitlin turned back to the mirror as he removed the wig and proceeded to pin her own hair up above her neck. That done, he pulled the wig down on her head and carefully arranged it.
“There. How’s that?”
Caitlin’s reflection was now complete. She eyed it approvingly and turned from side to side to check it out. “You’re in the wrong business, Felipe.”
“Everyone has to have a hobby. Come on, time to pose.”
“Give me a second to brush this wig out,” Caitlin said while she looked through her purse for a brush.
“No. It’s gotta look like a photo ID. A really nice photo would be a dead giveaway.”
“All right, I guess it doesn’t matter anyway. It’s only temporary.”
“We hope,” John said.
“What’s that mean?”
“You never know....”
Felipe pointed toward the light colored backdrop.
“Just stand over there; this won’t take but a second.”
Caitlin stepped to where he had a small mark on the concrete floor, and then looked up at the camera. Without warning, the flash went off.
“Hey, I wasn’t ready.”
“He told you it was supposed to look like a real DMV photo,” John said.
“All right. John, your turn.”
Caitlin stepped to the side, and John took her place.
“Hey, lose the hat,” Felipe said.
“Sorry, forgot I was wearing it.”
“Yeah, you
