Athena
“Karen Garcia?”
The girl in the passport looked nothing like me, her blonde hair made her look like her make-up, she wore so much make up it looked like it added a few kilograms to her face, and her eyes were drooped halfway like she was more than a bit high.
Luciano had a goofy smile on his face, like he was enjoying himself, “You like it?”
“What Latino is named Karen?”
He took a step closer, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me into him despite my protests,”A beautiful goddess, that’s who.”
I wanted to crawl into his skin and stay there for a while, he was that comforting but I pushed him off, “Oh shut up Luciano, it isn’t funny.”
He raised his arms in surrender chuckling, “You gotta admit, it kind of is.”
“Ah fuck you.”
The disguises and fake passports were supposed to get us to New York and back without any hitches with police or law enforcement. Luciano didn’t really expect any issues at all, they weren’t actively looking for him, but he was still a wanted man and didn’t want his location being leaked out to the public in any way. That was what he thought of course, personally I thought the whole disguise thing was a particular waste of time, and I had told him about it.
“Better safe than sorry Raven, trust me.” He had said almost immediately, dismissively waving away my complains.
“You want us to wear clown make up and dress like a bunch of cold war Soviet spies on a fucking Delta Airlines flight to New York?”
“Anything will sound ridiculous when you say it like that, Raven.” He groaned, putting down the paper he was reading.
“It IS ridiculous.”
“No it isn’t okay, there is no dressing up all we have is a little disguise and some fake passports okay, we should be fine.”
I had rolled my eyes, deciding to drop the issue. I could already hear the irritation on his voice and decided not to push it any further. “Whatever you say.”
He had brought in a “professional make up artist.” A bald, middle aged man that dressed and looked like the poster boy for effeminate gay men who wouldn’t shut up about his Hollywood clients.
He had spent three hours on my face and by the time he was done, I had to admit that despite his “Megan Fox is a bitch” stories he insisted on blabbing about throughout the entire process, he had done a pretty good job. I looked almost exactly like this Karen Garcia.
Luciano walked in after his own make over, looking slightly older with a few wrinkles on his face, a mop of darker head with grey highlights and a fake pot belly.
“If it isn’t miss Karen Garcia.” He chuckled as soon as he saw me, rearranging me blonde wig to fit.
“Jonathan Maguire.” I winked at him, I had tried to talk him out of taking the name as it sounded obviously fake but he insisted on using it. He was so excited about having to use a fake identity I had to let him enjoy himself. I hadn’t seen him so giddy in a while and I had to admit, it was kinda cute.
“You did a good job Amanda.” He said, looking up at the make-up guy, “Enzo downstairs will take care of your bill.”
“Oh thank you handsome, you can call me anytime.” He said, winking at Luciano his gaze lingering a little too long as he walked out. I wanted to punch him in his stupid face.
“Looks like you have a secret admirer.” I said as he shut the door behind him.
Luciano smiled, “He is not my type.” He said taking a seat on the bed next to me.
“So,” I asked watching him readjust his fake belly, “What next?”
“Well, the disguises are good,” he replied, reaching into his pocket and rummaging thoughtfully.
“Yeah,” I said, patting the wig, “Except neither of us look like cannabis chugging addicts.”
He smiled, “Exactly, Enzo is coming around with the car so we have,” he stared at his watch, “About twenty minutes to remedy that.”
I raised an eyebrow, he had the same mischievous look o
in his eye he had whenever he was up to no good, smiling like a teenager who had manages to steal alcohol, “Whatever do you mean Jonathan?”
He finally found what he was looking for in his pockets and with an exaggerated “Aha!” tossed three bags of marijuana on the bed, “Get rolling my dear Karen, we have some smoking to do.”
* * *
I shifted nervously in the hard plastic seat, my heart pounding against my ribcage like a wild animal trying to escape its cage. The airport bustled with travelers, their faces a blur of anticipation and excitement. But for me and Luciano, this was a moment of uncertainty.
Shit had gone to hell as soon as we stepped out of the car. Enzo had been speeding and was intercepted by airport security and pulled over.
The irony was lost on me, weeks of avoiding the FBI, Police and the most dangerous Mafia in the east coast only to be caught by fucking airport security.
Luciano, disguised in a tailored suit and tinted glasses, sat beside me, his posture relaxed, but I could see the tension hidden beneath his calm exterior. We had gone to great lengths to conceal our identities, but the fear of being discovered gnawed at my core like a hungry predator.
As the boarding announcement rang through the crowded terminal, I glanced anxiously at my fake passport. The name “Karen Garcia” stared back at me, a name I hadn’t even chosen myself. Looking at it now, it looked even more stupid than before.
A suspicious silence filled the air as a uniformed policeman approached us. His eyes darted between Luciano and me, suspicion etched into every line of his face.
“Excuse me,” He said quickly, searching our faces, “May I see your identification, please?”
My pulse quickened, and my mouth went dry as I handed over the counterfeit passport, praying that our forged identities would hold up under scrutiny.
Luciano smiled, oozing charm “Of course, Officer. Is there a problem?”
“I just need to verify your identification.” He replied, eyeing the passports, “We’ve had reports of fraudulent passports being used. You understand, don’t you?”
My heart skipped a beat as beads of sweat formed on my forehead. Every second that passed felt like an eternity.
Luciano seeming to notice my nervousness, squeezed my hand before looking up, “Officer, I assure you, there must be some mistake. These are legitimate passports. We’re simply heading home after a business trip.”
The officer glanced down at the passports once more, his eyes running through them as he ignored Luciano. My palms grew clammy, a shiver running down my spine. It felt as though the entire world had frozen around us, waiting with bated breath.
Luciano muat have felt it too because he took a step forward, his voice more forceful this time, “Officer, I demand that you let us through. We have a flight to catch and cannot afford any delays. This is a misunderstanding. We are law-abiding citizens.”
Tension hung in the air, an invisible thread pulling at our fates. Time stood still as the Officer glared back at Luciano, as though shocked he had even spoken all.
Luciano stared back, his gaze unyielding until the man finally sighed, “You too stay out of trouble.” He muttered, handing us the passports back.
Luciano took it and led me into the airport, checked our tickets. It wasn’t until we were boarding the plane that I finally started breathing normally, my heart slowing down.
Luciano pulled me into a hug, kissing my forehead, “It’s okay, it’s over.”
That was close, way too close.
* * *
Frederick was buried in a large cemetery, a bland tombstone marking his grave. I had insisted on buying flowers on the way here from the airport, ignoring Luciano’s protests that the less we interacted with people the better. I didn’t care, I was going to pay my respects properly.
His grave was as simple as the man. He had hated pompous excesses like anything ornate or a profound quote, this was exactly how he liked it, whoever did it did it well.
I stood by his grave, Luciano behind me thinking about what to say. I had no words, I felt weak, powerless as tears started streaming down my face.
“I am sorry.” I said finally, the only words I could think of, “I am so sorry.”
Luciano hugged me, patting my back as I placed the flowers on the grave. As I straightened up, turning to go, he stopped me. “I have something to say.”
I stared confused as he walked up to the tombstone, placing a hand on it, “I don’t have much to say Frederick, didn’t know you that well to be honest. But I heard you were a simple man, so here we go.”
He looked at me, “I didn’t get to ask you for Raven’s hand, and that seems irrelevant now, because I decided I am going to make her mine either way, with or without your approval.”