Chapter Five

When Tony walked out of the bathroom, he was blow drying his now white blond hair. He had a bag sitting on the guest bed, props he had used in the past to change his look. Nothing major, but enough to give him a non-cop look.

In this case, it was to have searching eyes pass him by. Standing in front of a full length mirror, Tony experimented with different items before settling on just what he'd be able to stand wearing for the length of the trip to Iraq.

"D, are you done primping yet?"

"I'm coming. Hold your horses, man."

There were gasps from the three people helping him once Tony came into their sight.

"Oh, Anthony," exclaimed Edna Faulk as she fluttered around him. "How did you do that?"

Tony grinned, holding his arms straight out from his sides and spinning around. "Smoke and mirrors, mostly. Obviously the hair color."

"But your hair wasn't down to your shoulders when you arrived here," Levi commented, puzzled.

"Extensions. If Clairol ever gets rid of this color, I'll be up a creek. I only have a couple of different color choices available to me in my extension collection."

Robbie nodded. "I get the dark-rimmed glasses, but there's something else going on there." He waved his hand at Tony's face. "It's just off."

"Removable inserts. They widen my nostrils and my nose. The same with my mouth region. I have inserts between my lower lip and gum. The contacts change my eyes to dark brown, which has always been Adrien's eye color. People tend to remember green eyes. The shoes have higher soles, giving me extra height," Tony explained.

"You're not slouching either," Robbie realized.

"There is a bit of extra padding in my suit lining which adds bulk, based on the way it is constructed. None of this will fool a facial recognition program, but it will throw off all but the best and most observant humans."

Levi pulled out a camera. "Time for passport photos. Unless you, or rather, Adrien Norelli, have been put on the No Fly list, the passport should pass casual inspection on your flight into Iraq. Coming back may be another thing entirely, my young friend."

"Yeah, I know. The scrutiny is tighter on trips out of Iraq to the United States. I'll cross that bridge when I get to it."

Tony let the old man position him in front of the white wall, taking two sets of photographs, one for the passport, the other for an updated driver's license. "What state to you want to live in?"

"Let's leave the address the same. It is still verifiable if anyone checks, so I don't want to mess with it."

"I think I'll make some credit cards for you, including one with your photo on it. Perhaps a library card, some debit and ATM receipts, the type of items one might shove into their wallet without thought."

"Levi, that would be…thank you."

Robbie's cell phone rang. With a nod, he stepped outside to speak with the caller.

"Anthony, once Levi is done, we will all eat."

"Edna, you don't have to feed me. I can…go…out…" Tony's voice trailed off at Edna's intense stare. He quickly backtracked. "That would be great, Edna. I really appreciate the trouble you went to."

Levi chuckled. "Good save."

Robbie came back inside. "I've got everything you wanted. Here's the address on Abi Al Atahiyah Street. You need a map?"

"Nope, got one." Tony pulled it from his inside jacket pocket.

Spreading it out on the coffee table, Robbie pointed out where Tony would need to go and how to get there from the airport. "Memorize the address and the directions. If you get picked up, I don't want my guy busted."

"No problem. How much do I owe you, Rob?"

Robbie thought it over. "For the weapons, $3,000. You'll give it to Khodayir in American money. He prefers it."

"And for you?"

"I'm gonna waive my fee."

"Robbie, you don't have to do that," Tony protested.

"D, you saved my life that night on Baker Street. You got me the help I needed to get clean. I still owe you for that. So shut up and say thank you."

"If I shut up, how am I gonna say thanks?"

"Smartass. Sorry, Ms. Faulk."

"I can state quite definitely that I've heard that word before." Edna looked at Tony and Robbie in turn. "Go wash up. Dinner will be on the table in ten minutes."

The two younger men exchanged grins, chorusing, "Yes, ma'am."

Dinner was excellent. The conversation was about everything except why Tony was in the Faulks' home. Tony realized that once he stepped out that front door, he would be Adrien Norelli, freelance photographer who wanted to do a photo journal of the aftermath of the Iraqi conflict.

Once the dining room table was cleared, the aperitifs finished, Robbie took his leave. Tony thanked him again for helping, but Robbie waved him off. "Just try not to get your ass shot while you're playing Lawrence of Arabia."

"I'll do my best, Rob. Take care of yourself. Thank Vincenzo for letting you come over here."

"He still likes you, D. If things ever cool down for you here, I'm sure he'd love to shoot the breeze with you."

"Tell him I'll see what I can do about that."

Borrowing Levi's computer, Tony made his plane reservations. He pulled his disposable phone out of his bag, starring at it. Finally he took a deep breath and dialed Jimmy Palmer's number.

"Hey, Jim. I need to know what's going on."

"Tony! Are you okay?" Jimmy's voice was a welcome touch of home.

"Yeah, I'm doing fine. We need to make this quick, so give me a sitrep."

"Tim is with Abby, want to speak with him?"

"Only if you can get him without Abby realizing why."

"I can. Hang on."

"Tony?"

"Tim. What's up?"

"Okay, did some checking. Seems DeWitt was almost court-martialed during Desert Storm. Gibbs reported him for falsifying reports about an attack on a friendly village. DeWitt wiggled out of it by the skin of his teeth. Well, that and the fact that his second-in-command was connected to a very powerful Senator.

"That would explain his animosity towards Gibbs. Enough to falsify evidence?" Tony wondered.

"I'm still trying to get a copy of the so-called evidence. Everybody is convinced it is legit, but no one has actually 'seen' it."

Tony was well aware that this meant Tim doing a little hacking. "Don't get caught."

"No, mother."

Tony chuckled before soberly stating, "Tim, I'm going to be out of touch for a while. Like I said, don't call unless it is an extreme emergency. Your call will go to voice mail, but it is a generic message to keep any nosey parkers from getting a name. I'll check when I can."

"Got it." There was silence for a moment. "Take care of yourself."

"You do the same."

They both disconnected at the same time.