00Chad

How to Be a Master of Disguise

You don't need closets full of clothes, masks, or wigs to be a "master of disguise." While they can be helpful, they can also be expensive and require extensive upkeep along with the use of extensive charts and organization tactics. So unless you're a person with bottomless pockets, too much time on their hands, an obsessive neat-freak who likes mapping everything out, or totally paranoid, just stick to these few tips and you'll be good to go.

1. Be a Chameleon- Have you ever noticed that people wear the most attention attracting clothing when they are trying to not get noticed. Come one people. The whole point is to blend in; the very last thing you want to do is turn heads or be remembered. So unless you're in Vegas, bright red lipstick, clothes with feathers and sequins, and huge high heels just won't do. So take notes from nature's master of disguise, the chameleon, and dress for your surroundings.

2. Mask Memorable Features- The point of a mask is to cover something up. If you have startling bright eyes, a huge nose, rosy red cheeks, or a to-die-for complexion, cover them up with a pair of oversized sunglasses or blot on some foundation. Also, if you always wear your hair a certain way, don't wear it that way while you're spying. Especially if it is an abnormal color or style.

3. Change Your Body Shape- While faces are what most people remember the most, you can also be identified by your shape. That doesn't mean you should go on some crazy crash or binging diet for the sake of the mission. Putting yourself at unnecessary risks is stupid and dangerous. Instead, wear loose fitting clothes or layers to change your figure.

4. Don't Wear Your Own Clothes- You might not think so, but people will start to recognize that cute little sweater you always wear. So head over to the Goodwill and buy something cheap. Pick out something that you wouldn't usually wear and avoid things brightly colored.

5. Take Advantage of Uniforms- What's better than something designed specifically to suck the originality and uniqueness of all who wear them. After all, do you say, "Hey, the guy with red hair, a huge nose, but who has a great personality is at the door," or "Hey it's the pizza delivery guy."?

I shakily fidgeted with my cleaners' outfit as I waited. I turned back to the cart and tried to look occupied in my "work" as two official looking men walked by. One was a middle aged and wearing a suit that screamed, "I take my job way too seriously." He was undoubtedly one of the guys who dealt with running this place. By the looks of his facial expression, he was extremely agitated by this whole situation. The company certainly didn't trust outsiders and the man next to him was one. Not only that, this outsider, thanks to their technical difficulties, now had clearance to a level that had taken the middle aged man years of networking to achieve. To say he was resentful would be an understatement.

The other man, the outsider, appeared to about forty years old. He was sturdy and strong but seemed aged too. He was dressed in official looking garb and was carrying a briefcase. He seemed to be trying to refrain from throwing the other man against a wall and just clenched the briefcase tighter.

They stopped in front a door a few yards away and as the middle aged one flipped through his security cards, the other one scratched his head. That was my cue.

I carefully wheeled the cart towards them and as I passed, I tipped a bottle of cleaner and spilled most of the cleaner on the overzealous man's suit. Cruel you say, not really. Trust me, the suit was totally hideous, I did his a favor by ruining it. Obviously he didn't think so and muttered unintelligible things at me as he rushed towards the bathroom.

Too bad the bathroom was closed off for "sanitation reasons." Now he'd have to go all the way to the other side of the building on the lower level. In order to do that, he'd have to use his keys, which were no longer in his back pocket. Unfortunately he wouldn't realize that until he got all the way down there. Then he'd have to come back up to get them or use someone else's keys. In any case, we had plenty of time to get what we'd come for, but that didn't mean we were taking our time.

Before he was even out of view, we were inside and locking the door behind us.

I pulled my headset on and checked the frequency. "Hey, we're in, can you hear us?" I whispered rapidly as I ran to catch one of the bags being thrown in the window.

"Loud and clear Gabs," Jason responded.

"Troy in yet?"

"Just got in Jase," he responded as the man, hopefully by now you've figured out that it's actually Chad, pulled him in. "Nice job Kels, Chad looks legit," Troy praised.

"Thanks," Kelsi replied shyly over the radio.

"Alright, let's go everyone. We don't have all night. Jase said the glitch will flicker out in about thirty minutes," Taylor chided.

We quickly set-out to untangle the cluttered cords and plugged them into the right ports. Chad and Jason explained that the process was usually rather simple, but since we weren't familiar with the equipment or security, we had to prepare for the worst, and the worst meant lots of wires being plugged in. Ten minutes later Chad was hacking into the database when an alert sounded through our headsets.

"What's going on Taylor," Troy demanded.

"Oh crap, someone's coming," she said worriedly.

"Where is he?" he ordered walking towards the doors.

"Coming down the hallway, to your right."

"Any chance he'll come in?"

I froze in panic at the thought. If he came in, he'd see us, he'd tell someone, we'd go to jail, and I'd never get into Harvard. Not that I particularly wanted to go to Harvard but I want to keep my options open. In any case, I knew we were going to get caught. I knew it. I could feel it and every neuron in my brain was screaming, "You idiot, you should have stayed home and done your math homework." (I'm a geek, I can't help it.)

"What do you we do, captain?" Chad asked as he continued to type furiously on the keyboard.

"Keep going," he said.

"But what about the guy..."

"Don't worry about him. I'll take care of it. Jason, talk them through the set-up, I'll be right back," he said walking out the door and down the hall.

My brain was still in panic mode and my hands were shaking as I tried to help Chad with the wires. Soon he was typing furiously on his keyboard and I just sat back and squirmed. I kept thinking that I heard the door being opened and every five seconds I turned to look. You would think that I would figure out that it was all in my head and stop being paranoid, but that was not the case at all.

I sighed and knew it was my own fault. Stupid conscience. Funny how I'd never actually considered what the whole breaking and entering thing would do to my always yapping conscience. You would think a guilty conscience which causes you to sleepwalk 20 blocks through Manhattan in your underwear- all because you took a cookie from the cookie jar- would be something to consider as you're planning to do something illegal. But nope. I'd been so intoxicated by the rush of doing something completely out of character, with Troy, to even think about anything- except Troy.

Ahh Troy. With his shaggy, chestnut brown hair, jaw-droppingly, gorgeous, blue eyes, his mysteriousness, and his dangerous yet soft-ness. I had to mentally remind myself not to start drooling. After all, we were still on a mission. THE MISSION!

I snapped out of my daydream and glanced at Chad. He seemed worried. "Something's wrong."

"Nothing's wrong," he argued feebly. He looked over to see if I believed him, I didn't and I turned away with a gulp.

"How we doing with time guys?" I asked impatiently. Troy'd been gone for a while and Chad was having difficulties with the files, we had to be getting low on time. I waited for their response but there was nothing. "Guys? Taylor, Kelsi, Jason?" Still nothing.

"How much time Gabs?" Chad rushed as he started typing again.

"I don't know. No one's answering."

He sucked in a breath and typed faster. "I'm extracting files now. Once I start I can't stop til they're done," he warned.

I glanced around the room, no clocks. The others were gone, and we were running out of time. Everything was falling apart, but we had a job to do. "Do it," I ordered and ran to pack things up. "Hurry."

"I don't think I can make it go much faster..."

"Try!"

As the copying began, several things happened at once.

First, the alarms went off. Not quite like in the movies when the red lights start flashing and sirens blare. Instead, the computers started switching over to this weird flashing thing where they just read off codes. Chad freaked and said it was security. They knew we were taking files and were tracking us. I'd researched the company's security measures enough to know what that meant. We had to get out, within the next few seconds or we were dead.

That was when the dogs started barking. Did I forget to mention that they have dogs? Well they do. Big dogs. Mutts who are bred to be the meanest, fastest, best guard/ hunting/ search dogs ever. Strictly government agency dogs. Oh... and by the sounds of it. They were close.

"We're going to have to go out the window. Can you handle it?" Chad asked throwing the already packed bags onto the fire escape. It hadn't taken long for everyone to discover how clumsy I am. Instead of joking about my inability to walk across flat surfaces without stumbling, everyone had become extremely watchful of me. If I start to slip the closet person would grab my arm and steady me. Two months later, the protectiveness only increased. They were subtle about the hawk-watching and would only eye me when they think I'm not looking or voice concerns when they think I'm out of earshot.

But I'm not stupid. And the undertone of their concerns was starting to worry me. It always seemed like I was missing something; something important. I knew there was a reason they were so careful with me. I knew there was a reason I was always under their watchful eyes. The reason was right in front of me, I knew it.

That was what I was thinking when the third thing happened. Someone was in the halls. I gazed helplessly at Chad.

"Out the window now. Get to the safe spot. I'll meet you there," he shouted as he barricaded the door. The 'safe spot' was this little restaurant a few blocks away. We'd mapped out five different routes that any of us could reach if there was an emergency and we got separated.

"But Chad," I begged. Tears threatened to fall as he pushed me out the window. I couldn't imagine leaving him by himself; he was like a big brother to me now, along with Jason. I didn't want to lose another member of my new family.

He saw the tears and said, "No worries Gabs. I'll meet you there. Actually I'll probably beat you there," he challenged. Something rammed against the door, the dogs were louder now. "Get out of here, now."

The urgency in his voice made me choke back my arguments and I scrambled down the steps. I am proud to say that even with a heavy bag in each hand and even though it was the dead of a cold, rainy night, I didn't fall once as I sprinted down the alleys towards the spot.

I sighed in relief as the sound of dogs, sirens, and shouting faded behind me. Before long, I was stumbling into the little cafe, sopping wet and gasping for air. The lady at the register and several late night patrons stared wearily at me. But one person seemed very happy to see me.

"Gabriella!" He was dressed, head to toe, in black and was seated at one of the back tables.

I walked towards and slowed as I saw who it was. "Ryan?"