In Too Deep(104)

To get this, you gotta understand my new identity. Marcus Smiley was an Internet millionaire. Starting with a small website, he built it to massive levels of traffic before cashing out, and reinvesting in various technology firms. Moving capital strategically around the globe, every company he touched seemed to turn to gold. Similarly, every company he pulled out of turned to dust almost as quickly. He'd been investigated by financial agencies all over the world, and with each of them he was as clean as freshly washed sheets.

The reality is, most of that money was pushed around within my own network of shell corporations. I'd always had Marcus Smiley in mind when I set up my retirement plan, along with a few other identities, and my accomplishments in his name were enough to set the media abuzz when the "reclusive business mogul" suddenly declared he was setting up his newest venture, along with a new home, within the city. He was even buying the old Mount Zion property from a local corporation and turning it into his personal home. The buzz within the technology sector, and the buzz within the society pages ensured our arrival would get local press.

The reporter looked next to me, where Sophie was smiling through a pair of sunglasses. "And who is this lovely woman next to you?" he asked, his eyes continually pulled to her hair. It was the most effective element of Sophie's disguise. As Sophie White, her most noticeable feature to most men were her large, perfect breasts. As Sophie Warbird, however, while still perfect, attention was diverted from her breasts to a shock of electric purple hair that ran all the way down to the middle of her back.

"This, my good man, is Sophie Warbird, my fiancee and vice president of Smiley Holdings. As you can tell, she's not only beautiful, but has the best sense of personal style on the entire East Coast." The purple was Sophie's choice, and I have to give her credit, I was inspired. We had both dyed our hair, but Sophie decided to go super extreme. Not exactly inconspicuous, but that was our plan, to stay in the open. In our bags, though, she also had a long black wig that she would use when she needed to not be recognized. That and a tight sports bra would hopefully combine to make her invisible at times. "We're both excited to be in town."

"Miss Warbird," the reporter said, swinging his little tape recorder away from me. "Anything you want to say to the people?"

Sophie smiled, and I could see the reporter's eyes glitter, enchanted. I could understand the sentiment. The three months we'd spent abroad had allowed her to blossom. She was pretty confident before, smart and lively, and sexy as hell, but now all of those qualities were dialed up to eleven. She had become the type of woman who walks into a room, and everyone stops to see what she's doing. What self-consciousness she did have before seemed to have disappeared. I had to intentionally become overly bombastic and attention grabbing just to get the first comments from people. "Well, like Marcus said, I'm glad to be here," Sophie said. "I'm a huge fan of football, and let's face it, no team has better fans than the Spartans."

The reporter smiled and nodded. He looked like he was getting ready to ask another question, but Sophie cut him off. "I'd love to talk more, but I'm very excited to see our new home. Maybe your office can contact us directly later?"

"Sure," the news guy said, mollified. He took out his business card and handed it to Sophie, who passed it along to me. "I know our style editor would love to talk with you about that hair."

Outside the airport, our rented BMW was waiting for us. It was one of the most frustrating parts about assuming the new identity of Marcus Smiley. As Mark Snow, I had various cars, properties, and other equipment ready for use. But, since the Confederation and probably Owen Lynch knew where most of it was, my tools were reduced to what I had in the Mount Zion belfry, and purchasing new equipment. A lot of it, like guns, was easily replaced, if a bit of a hassle. There was some of it though that was very difficult to replicate or replace.

"You know, I miss the Electric Dream Machine," Sophie said as we pulled away. I nodded. My all-electric Mercedes was one of the most noticeable trademarks of Mark Snow. It had gotten to the point that I didn't even need to do much more than drive it by the business or house of my target and they would fold. That is, if intimidation was my goal. Floating by silently, the blue GT-S got attention. Sadly, I'd never get to drive it again, it had been sold off through a third party, the funds donated to a charity to throw off any traces. I liked that car, too.

"Well, now that we're back in town, we'll see about getting something for each of us," I said. "After all, as the newest socialite millionaire, we're supposed to do at least a bit of conspicuous consumption."

Thankfully, there were no reporters waiting outside the Mount Zion property. I pulled in, shutting down the engine and looking over at her. "Well, we're home."

Sophie smiled, then looked down at her hands. They're beautiful, with graceful fingers and hidden strength. Even two months of hard training in Eastern Europe hadn't marred their beauty to me, although she had appreciated the manicure we'd gotten in London during our one-day stopover on the way home. She seemed to struggle with what she wanted to say, then looked over from the passenger seat at me. "Did you mean it?"

"Mean what?" I asked, taking the keys out and slipping them into the pocket of the Italian sport coat I was wearing. "That we're supposed to do some conspicuous consumption?"