“Now, look.” Judging by Cruz and Viv’s grins, he might soon become the butt of someone’s joke.
He stared at himself in the full-length mirror.
Darker, wavy hair, gelled into some semblance of style. The glass lenses made his eyes appear darker for some reason. The bit of facial hair and whatever other magic Viv worked took about ten years off his age.
“Try not to smile too much. We don’t want wrinkles around the eyes.” Viv touched a finger to the crow’s feet he’d rather not acknowledge.
Lucky nearly growled.
“I don’t think that will be a problem,” Cruz assured her. “He’s already smiled twice this year. I think that’s his quota.”
Liv circled him, admiring her handiwork with the occasional grin or “oooh!”. “The goal is to make you completely forgettable, to have you fade into the background. You don’t look like yourself, but your disguise isn’t obvious, nor will it draw attention. If you need to do a quick change, peel the scar off first. It’s noticeable enough that if someone is looking for you, they’ll hone in on men with facial scars.”
“Quick change?”
“I’ll show you in a minute.”
His nose appeared narrower, and snubbed; his jawline more defined. A scar ran across his cheek, that could have been the result of a knife fight. The man in the mirror also weighed about twenty pounds more than Lucky, though the padding appeared more muscle than fat.
A hired gun.
“Take a turn on the catwalk,” Viv ordered, using two fingers to simulate walking, then making a turning motion with her finger. “I was going to put a marble in your shoe to give you a limp, but it looks like you already have one. Play it up, okay, but only if you can maintain it. You don’t want to slip out of character at some point and change your gait.”
In these foot torture devices? Not likely. Lucky almost fell on his second step. The shoes took some getting used to.
Cruz scrutinized him again. “Yes, yes. I can see it.” He faced Viv. “I didn’t think anybody could un-Lucky Lucky, but you managed.”
Even Lucky couldn’t see Lucky in the mirror. He’d become someone completely different.
“Thank you.” Viv preened and dipped in a curtsey. “Oh!” She shoved a hand into her handbag, brought out a bottle, and gave Lucky a liberal spray. “Between the clothes and cologne, you now reek of money. Plus, the cologne hides the smell of the hair color and makeup. You’ll also need this.” She attached a crucifix around his neck.
“Aren’t religious symbols and drug trafficking an odd mix?” Lucky fingered the pendant.
Viv swatted his hand away. “You’d be surprised. Don’t fiddle with it. You’re supposed to be used to wearing this. It has a tracker and microphone.”
Cruz took a few pictures with a digital camera. “Hand me your wallet.” He extended a hand.
The last few hours left Lucky reeling. “Excuse me?”
“Your wallet.”
Lucky handed it over, with extreme reservation.
Cruz handed him one back. “Your name is Eric Howard. You have an outstanding warrant for breaking and entering, and attempted murder charges against you were dismissed. I’ve already provided your name to my contacts. They’ll have researched you, and me. I’m having your new driver’s license delivered to my hotel.”
Cruz’s connections worked a whole lot faster than the SNB’s.
With a trademark grin, Cruz dropped into the chair. “Viv, my love, do your worst!”
It took only a few moments to add crows’ feet to Cruz’s eyes, and a few gray hairs to his head. No big change, but he now looked old enough to have headed a drug trafficking outfit for a while.
“So, you’re posing as Nestor Sauceda’s successor to his drug cartel in Valle Hermosa.” Cruz certainly looked the part.
Cruz nodded, more to the mirror in front of him than Lucky. “That I am. Now. My hotel is being watched, so I’ll slip in the back way and get dressed.” He texted on his phone. Lucky’s chimed. “That’s the hotel address.” He dropped a set of keys into Lucky’s hand. “These are to the black Escalade on the other side of the parking lot. Join me in an hour. Leave the vehicle in the main parking area and wait in the lobby. Text me, and I’ll come down. We’re going a few places to be seen, and give you time to practice your role. At four o’clock, you’ve gotta give the performance of a lifetime.”
“My car?”
“We’ll make sure it gets back to the SNB. You won’t be needing it. You’re taking another ride home.”