A Thin Disguise by Catherine Bybee

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

The small town they landed in was a little too close to the center of Budapest for Olivia’s comfort, but any smaller and the two of them would stick out as the strangers they were.

The moment she mentioned Friedrich’s name, she committed.

All the years she’d been on her own, and now Leo was at her side picking apart her plan, giving suggestions and offering different scenarios. Although she’d executed many plans, very successfully, on her own, there was comfort in having another educated opinion.

And Leo was right.

If he were the type of man who didn’t want to jump in feetfirst, she wouldn’t have looked at him twice.

All the years Neil encouraged her to join his team, and it was her asking for their help.

Gathering more information on Friedrich was imperative.

She needed leverage. Needed to find the man’s weakness.

Just as Leo and, if she were being honest with herself, Neil’s entire team were her Achilles’ heel, Friedrich had to have one.

They set up in their hotel room and opened a secure connection to talk with Neil.

Olivia was nervous, but there wasn’t any turning back now.

Neil came into view, his lips pressed together. “Glad to see you in one piece,” he said in greeting.

“I didn’t expect to be talking to you like this.”

Neil offered a nod. “I know. We’re a team. We take care of each other.”

Leo reached over and grasped her hand.

She squeezed. “Tell me what you’ve learned.”

Neil started talking. Friedrich Schmidt was nowhere close to being an orphan. But the father on his birth certificate and the man whose DNA he matched were not the same. His parents sent him to Richter, and the uncle, Louis Schmidt, took over as the boy’s family. And in the records of secrets, Louis and Friedrich shared the same DNA.

“Are his parents, any of them, still alive?” Olivia asked.

“Mr. and Mrs. Schmidt live in Munich. Uncle Louis is proving harder to locate. We need another twelve to twenty-four hours on this.”

“If Friedrich cared for his uncle, he’d make the man disappear,” she said. “It might take years to find out where he is.”

“We’re not working hard, just scouting. Learning where Louis is might result in word getting back to the family that’s trying to hide him.”

“And if Friedrich knows someone is looking, he would be more inclined to deal,” Leo pointed out.

“Or shoot first and skip any deal.” Olivia saw the other side of this.

“I have several people asking the same questions in different locations. Schmidt will know that can’t all be you. And when someone in your line of work suddenly has backup, the tables shift.” Neil looked pleased with himself. “Let’s go over A Róka.”

For twenty minutes Olivia worked through the neighborhood surrounding the nightclub. There was roof access, street access, and possibly an underground passage. “I’ll confirm that before I go in.”

“You’re not going in. Not at first,” Neil told her.

If Neil didn’t see the danger in telling her what she was entitled to do or not do, he was going to see it now. “The only way this team willwork is if you understand that I do not take orders. From anyone.”

“Hear me out.” Neil regrouped. “You’re dead to this community. Schmidt might be the only one that knows you’re alive.”

“And whoever hired him.”

“Perhaps. But the fewer people that know you’re alive the better. We all agree on that, right?” Neil asked.

“Right,” Leo answered for them.

“We send Leo in—”

“Out of the question.” Olivia pulled her hand out of Leo’s, sat back.

“I’m not sitting on the sidelines,” he told her.

“I’m not going to watch you die.”

Leo turned to her. “I’m walking in and leaving a message in a place that no one knows me.”

“People like me know all about people like you, Mr. FBI. People like Mykonos and Navi . . . they love talking to the people mingling in these locations. And the Navis of the world will know you.”

“So you turn me into an old man.”

She didn’t like this. “You don’t speak the language.”

“Do you speak Hungarian?”

“No, but I have five languages to tap into.”

Neil interrupted both of them. “English is the universal language in these establishments, and you know it, Olivia.”

Leo took a long breath. “What is it you’re really worried about? No one is going to shoot me for asking questions in a place where people ask questions.”

“The fewer people that know we’re connected the better.”

They stared at each other, locked in an argument.

“Olivia,” Neil interrupted. “Your argument about the Navis of the world isn’t unjustified, but it’s weak. And more limited than people who might realize you’ve returned from the dead. Add thirty years to Leo’s face, send him in not to lure Friedrich around to talk to you, but because Leo has information about a job in Vegas that didn’t turn out like it should have. When word comes that Friedrich is in attendance, we send you in . . . with a team.”

Olivia turned to the monitor. “Keep your ass in California.”

“My London base is already working. The only face you’ll recognize is Jax. She’ll make sure you don’t shoot anyone you shouldn’t.”

“Jax is in Amsterdam.”

“Change of plans,” Neil said.

Olivia looked at Leo, then Neil. Neil’s plan was solid. Putting others at risk was never a concern in the past. And there were times she didn’t really care if she made it out alive.

Leo reached for her hand. “It’s a good plan.”

“If I find holes, we’re changing it,” Olivia warned.

“By all means,” Neil said, deadpan. “In twenty-four hours, we start rolling. Tell me what you need.”

“Communications,” Olivia said. “If Leo goes in, we need to be able to hear him.”

“Done. What about weapons? Cash?”

She shook her head.

“We’ll reconnect in twenty-four hours, sooner if everything is in place.” Neil’s image disappeared, and Leo closed the laptop.

“You all right?”

“I haven’t decided.”

He twisted her around and placed both hands on her knees, his eyes level with hers. “If you disappear, I’m searching for you and not watching my back.”

He was trying to scare her.

She would never admit his tactics were working. “You’ll watch your back.”

“Not like I would if I knew you were out there alone.”

One hundred percent commitment. That’s how this had to be to come out on the other side alive and with the information they needed.

“You’re manipulative,” she told him.

He smiled. “I’m in good company.”

Leo sat still while Olivia did her thing.

Not once in his career had he needed to wear makeup, let alone strips of plastic to add weight and disguise his bone structure.

Using paintbrushes and glue, she took her time. Music played in the room, and she worked in silence. The whole time she refused to let him see what she was doing.

Jax had arrived a couple of hours before, bringing with her the communication devices Olivia had requested. Once Olivia told Jax her plan on how to transform Leo, Jax left to return with a suit and padding.

Now, with Leo in one chair and Jax in another, they were both preparing to go in.

A Rókarequired a serious entrance fee, in cash, and the dress code wasn’t negotiable. Leo couldn’t help but think there would be more surprises once they were on the inside.

Olivia held out the jacket for him to get into and ran her hands over the lapels before standing back.

“Holy shit,” Jax said behind her.

“Looks good?” Leo asked.

Olivia twisted him until he faced the mirror.

Chills ran down his arms. She’d added weight and wrinkles and a nose that appeared to have been broken in the past. The facial hair he’d grown for her had been removed. She’d put a second skin over his head, and now he had the receding gray hairline he hoped to avoid.

He looked like a larger version of his grandfather before he’d passed. “Wow.”

She patted his ass, smiled through the reflection in the mirror. “I’d still do ya,” she teased.

“Hollywood needs your skills,” Jax told Olivia.

Jax stood in a hip-hugging V-neck dress that cut so low it damn near went to her navel. The choice was to add not only a layer of distraction, since it was hard not to stare at her chest, but to display enough side cleavage so that no one could possibly think Olivia and Jax were the same person. Not that many would be looking at her face.

The women gave a red tint to Jax’s blonde hair and added some extension by route of a long, loosely curled ponytail. Her makeup gave her a sharper jawline, and the red contacts she chose had literal sparkles around them. Disguises were expected in these places, and eye color was an easy switch. Where Olivia’s sun-kissed olive skin was hard to hide when wearing the kind of gown Jax was wearing, Jax’s creamy complexion did not look the same. Anyone reporting to Schmidt, or relaying the information about who was asking for an audience, would not mistake a disguised Jax for Olivia.

Jax wore a tracker in her hair, and Leo had one in a cuff link on the chance that the establishment commandeered their cell phones.

A knock on the door sounded their time for departure.

“That’s our ride,” Jax announced as she reached for a coat.

Leo opened the door, found a man who looked like the perfect chauffeur standing on the other side.

“Leo?” the man asked.

Jax made the introductions as Sven walked in the room. “Sven, this is Leo, Leo, Sven. And that’s Olivia.”

“A pleasure.” Sven’s eyes traveled to Jax, his mouth gaping. “Damn, Jax.”

Jax smiled, handed her jacket to Leo to help her. “Not to be a girl, but if I move the wrong way, everyone gets a peep show.”

“Do you want tape?” Olivia asked as she turned toward her bag of disguises.

“No. Much better if I leave less to the imagination once we’re there.”

None of them could argue with that. Leo opened the jacket for her to step into.

Olivia clipped her earpiece in with a built-in microphone. They’d already done an equipment check and were ready to roll.

He turned to Olivia, uncertainty written on her face. “We’ll be in and out of there in less time than it took for you to do all this.” He pointed to his torso.

Sven moved toward the door. “We have a van out front. I’ll introduce you to the team.”

Olivia’s eye twitched.

“Let’s do this before I change my mind.”

Leo knew none of this was easy for her, any more than it would be for him to be on the outside once she went in.

They exited the room and let the fun begin.

Entering A Róka reminded Leo of his history lessons on Prohibition in the States. The first door was not the door . . . and the initial fee was not the only cost.

Jax hung on Leo’s arm like the gold digger she was to portray, and him as the cradle robber.

The foyer of the actual nightclub was a small, dimly lit bar with a dozen patrons sipping cocktails and talking softly.

At the second door, two large men greeted them. “Good evening, Mr. . . . ?”

“Anderson. And my companion, Miss Swan.”

His smile was nice enough, but the physical space the man took up told Leo he was capable of enforcing the rules of the establishment.

“I will assume you have been briefed on our . . . guidelines.”

“We have,” Leo replied.

“Then you won’t mind that we secure your weapons.”

A contingency they all saw coming.

Leo glanced at Jax and reached for his sidearm. He pulled the magazine and emptied the chamber before handing it to the man speaking.

“I’ll feel absolutely naked,” Jax said with a pout on her lips.

“Sorry, love.” Leo stepped behind her and helped her out of her coat.

The men shifted slightly when Jax revealed the dress and averted their eyes when she lifted it enough to reveal a small holster strapped to her thigh. With her coat and the gun in the doormen’s possession, Leo removed an envelope and placed it in one man’s hand.

Only then did they stand aside and let Leo and Jax pass. “Enjoy your evening.”

The second set of doors emptied into a much grander space with many more people.

“We’re in,” Leo whispered softly for the team to hear.

A tone in his ear was his only reply. The goal of the team was to listen and intervene only if the proverbial shit hit some kind of fan.

“This looks like it was once a ballroom,” Jax said as they walked through the room. Chandeliers lit the thirty-foot ceilings. Long columns flanked the room, with soaring windows looking out over a courtyard. What once might have been a platform for a small orchestra now had a single piano player and a singer entertaining the guests.

There were dozens of tables around the perimeter of the room, dimly lit nooks for people to hide, and enough space between these tables to offer some privacy.

“If this was a ballroom, wouldn’t that make this building a private home in the past?”

“Most likely,” Jax said.

They kept their conversation around observations to help paint an internal picture for the outside team. They were not going to risk being thrown out for photographing the interior of the space.

The rules of A Róka were relatively simple. No cell phones out. At all. No pictures whatsoever. What people discussed in the club was at their discretion, but no action happened inside their doors. No exchange of money—anywhere—with the exception of the front door. The bars were open, and the hefty entrance fee paid for not only drinks but information, if it was available.

No one believed for a moment that the people seen in the establishment would be kept a secret, nor was it some kind of “what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas” type of vibe. But it was a no-kill zone. How the establishment enforced this, Leo didn’t know. But he didn’t think it was by an escort to the street.

Leo and Jax attracted their share of attention, though Leo saw more eyes on her than he did on himself.

“Bartenders talk with everyone,” Leo said.

The two of them found open space at the main bar.

“Good evening.” The bartender set two coasters down with a smile. “What may I tempt you with tonight?”

Jax ordered a glass of wine, Leo a whiskey.

“I haven’t seen you here before.” The bartender was a man somewhere in his thirties and half the size of the bouncers at the door.

“It’s our first time,” Jax said for them.

The man poured her wine with a smile.

“Meeting someone?” he asked.

Leo accepted his drink. “We’re hoping to . . . in the future. Although I’m not sure if my acquaintance frequents this establishment.”

“Perhaps I can be of some assistance. I see a lot of people. Some who want to reconnect with old friends, and others that would just as soon be left alone.”

Leo leaned one elbow on the bar. “I believe I saw our old friend recently in Las Vegas,” he said.

Jax leaned forward so the V of her dress gaped just enough to promise an eyeful if she moved another centimeter. “This gentleman and I share the same alma mater in Germany. Perhaps you’ve heard of Richter?”

“Of course. A school as old as that has delivered plenty of patrons to A Róka.”

“How might we get word to our friend?” Jax asked.

The bartender smiled, his eyes drifting to Jax’s chest as he reached for a bar towel. “When was this visit to Las Vegas?” he asked.

Leo gave him the exact date when Olivia was shot.

The man reached for a token behind the bar and scooted it toward Leo. “You’ll have to show this to the gentlemen on your way out when you retrieve your coats. It is nonrefundable.”

The token looked like a poker chip. “How does this work?”

“In America they call it a tip. We respect the privacy of our clientele should they request it. As we would with you as well. Of course, I speak only on behalf of the staff. We have no control over the patron on the other side of the room.”

“Understandable.”

“If your classmate is unreachable or prefers to be left alone, you’ll be told we were unsuccessful in helping you. If there is a message, we’ll be sure and pass it on.”

Leo and Jax exchanged glances. Could it be that easy?

“You’ve been most helpful. Thank you,” Jax told him as she brought the wine to her lips.

“Of course.” With a smile, the bartender walked away.

“Let’s take a look at the architecture, shall we?” Jax suggested.

They moved around the room talking about the walls, the halls, and routes away from the main room. They found the restrooms and separated for less than five minutes.

People looked, but didn’t stare.

No one approached.

They exited and retrieved their belongings.

As instructed, Leo handed the doorman the token and received a similar one in a different color along with an envelope. Leo tucked it away in his coat and helped Jax with hers.

Sven was waiting on the street, the door to the back seat open.

Once they were inside and leaving A Róka, Leo relaxed. “That was easy.”

“It’s never that easy,”he heard Olivia in his ear. “What’s in the envelope?”

Leo removed it and tore the seal. The price tag to the information was revealed. “How deep are Neil’s pockets?”

He showed the paper to Jax, who blew out a whistle.

“But look at the fine print . . . your fifth visit to A Róka is half off, and your tenth is free,” she said with a small laugh.

Leo read the letter out loud so the team could hear the instructions. He was to return, or whoever he wanted to retrieve the information was to return, and bring the token.

“Now the question is . . . How long do we wait?” Leo asked anyone who had the answer.

“Forty-eight hours,” someone said in his earpiece.

“Plenty of time. And if Friedrich doesn’t bite, we look elsewhere,” Olivia said.

Leo looked behind them to find the surveillance van following, all the while wondering how Olivia handled waiting on the sidelines while someone else was in play.