Crystal scratched her head, yawning. The stress she felt last night was more manageable with a clearer mind. She idly wondered as how to get a biology paper done before lunch. Due date was today and she was undoubtedly slacking off on her school work.
She sauntered over to the rec room to see Matt still asleep.
"Hey. Trixie. Trix. Wake up. We have to get to school."
He simply turned the other cheek, mumbling incoherently. She rolled her eyes and prodded his forehead, and losing patience, pinched his ear and flicked his temple.
"OW! What was that for?!"
She looked down at him impassively.
"School. We have to get there in twenty."
He groaned and Crystal walked off to her cupboards, finding something clean to wear to school. From the very back, she procured some well-worn, ripped skater skinny jeans, an equally old red football jersey and a pair of black Converses. All in all, she looked somewhat like a hippie, but she couldn't care less.
School wasn't mandatory, but they found that they blend better into the community when they attend college wherever they go. She and Matt always posed as brother and sister, with Skye being their 'dad.' Crystal had tried to persuade Pearce to go to at least a different school so that she'd have a degree on paper someday, which could prove valuable, but she flat out refused. Romeo was just too old 'surfer-boy' like to fit into the Houston, Texas community. Krusty was always either too drunk to walk a straight line, or too stoned.
They change their base every few years. London, England. Sydney, Australia. Nairobi, Kenya. Beijing, China. And now, Houston, Texas, USA. Matt and Crystal forge documents portraying themselves to be final year transfer students. New faces, new names. A necessary use of good latex- if someone accidentally ran one of them through facial recognition, two college students who graduated five times was quite suspicious. Scratch that. Very suspicious.
Crystal plastered on her brown wig and after much discomfort, popped on her blue contacts. Stuffing cheek implants into her mouth and applying a little stage makeup, she was no longer the ScarletWIDOW everyone knew. She was now Rhea Henderson, senior of Rice University, working towards a major in biology and chemistry. She had average grades, average looks, and was a quiet soul. A bit of padding on her sides under her shirt completed her quintessential Texan look, giving others the image of her being an average girl who knew exactly how she liked her chili.
She pocketed her cellphone, which looked like the ordinary iPhone 5S, yet was customized with a completely different operating system which connected to their VPN in times of emergency. If a finger that was not attached to a member of the group slid across the phone screen to unlock it, all data on it relating to them would be wiped. It would just be a typical teen's phone, complete with ridiculous 'selfies', angst-ridden pop music, texts about how horrible boys were, and the entire Angry Birds collection.
She finished lacing her shoes, waiting for the transformed Trix, who was taking a course on criminal law. Crystal had already taken it before at UCL, England. It was a course she made sure to take. The only people who needed to know the law better than the police were the criminals. And alleged criminals.
"Hey, hurry up. Abbott's going to kill me, Trix. And I have a paper due. So hurry the fuck up."
Matt emerged from the corner he was changing in. His goggles were gone and his trademark red hair was now a brown, a shade lighter than his 'sister's.' He wore loose, baggy clothing that made him look skinny and weak, whereas in reality, though he was thin and wiry, he had muscle tone. His facial bone structure was altered by various cheek pads and a couple inches were added to his height by lifts in his sneakers.
"Ah. Okay, okay. I'm done. Let's go."
Crystal went outside into the woods. Skye had started up their cherry red Mini- a perfect little family car for a perfect little Texan family. Chucking in her bag carelessly, she got in and scratched her head absently, waiting for her 'brother' to follow. Her eyes went to the tarp-covered car next to her. Under it was certainly not a humble Mini. Under the beige nylon was a Hennessey Venom GT. In black.
She was not the type to indulge in such luxuries, but this was one that she deemed necessary. Living the high risk life- evading not only their criminal enemies, but the police as well, a fast getaway option was imperative. And things just didn't get faster than that. She had ripped out the navigation systems and all Bluetooth connectivity devices in the car and the team made a system from scratch so that the car's electronics could run without being traced through the company.
Matt got into the car next, stooping down a bit to avoid severing his head. Skye put the car into drive and they were off.
Crystal groaned as she remembered that she forgot her iPod. It was the only personal device she owned, one that was completely isolated from the hacker life. The drive to school was a twenty minute one and a glance over at Matt, who was furiously tapping at his PSP, removed any and all chances of intelligent conversation. Skye was unfortunately not the talkative type. At first, she almost believed that he was mute.
She settled for tearing paper from her notepad to make paper cranes. She idly thought ahead to the next phases of their project. They hack off $200 million and the bad guys pay them $4 million for their services. To make it more convincing, they'll negotiate it up to six. Not that they truly needed the money- their metaphorical piggy bank was quite decently filled. But still. That was the underworld way and besides. Crystal had no qualms about taking the bad guy's money. After all, the Frenchman can always donate the extras.
Humming out the tune to 'Sail', by Awolnation, she kept folding. The repetitive motion was enough to keep her mind from straying onto things that wasn't school and biology. It was a façade she had to keep up- a mental trick so that her character doesn't slip. By the time the car came to a halt in front of Rice, (and a hundred and twelve paper cranes toppled onto the carpet), she was completely Rhea.
Unwrapping a grape sucker and sticking it in her mouth, Crystal hopped out, stumbling a little. Matt- whose alias was Cody- patted his twin sister goodbye and jogged off, backpack in hand, towards his friends. The first day in school, Trix's lackadaisical, laid-back attitude had done him a world of good, popularity-wise. He had a bit of a bad-boy thing going on, which obviously was a hit with the women as well. Crystal was initially worried about drawing attention to themselves, yet she decided that it would really have no harm. If both of them were hidden and awkward, it would perhaps even attract more attention- negative of course. So they decided to go with the hot-brother and not-so-hot sister play.
She walked slowly, hiding her face with her now long, deep brown hair, face blank, giving off an air of isolation and inherent discomfort. It wasn't all faked. She was tense and naturally didn't do well socially. Her team she had known for years- they were the only human contact she wanted. New places, new people and- God forbid- new friends was not her thing. Her aliases always were introverted to make them more believable- either silent nerds, snooty hipsters or glowering emos.
Rhea was not really a nerd. She was a humble girl, who was exceedingly brilliant in being average and shy. Unfortunately, though it wasn't a personality that brought boys flocking to the block, it made her a great picking for the bullies. Crystal cursed herself every day for her brain for forgetting that tiny little detail. She was far too used to living behind a computer screen- in a world of 1s and 0s.
Sucking on the lollipop, she clutched her bag as if it was a barrier between her and the rest of the world and walked briskly to class. Running up the steps, careful not to dislodge the artfully arranged padding, Crystal somehow managed to get to General Chemistry without incident. Sitting down in usual place in the back, she opened up her notebook and stared straight ahead, vehemently refusing any and all eye contact with another living soul.
She saw- well, sensed rather than saw- someone else sit next to her. By the hit of flowery perfume that hit her next, she didn't have to see to know that it was someone she didn't want anything to do with.
"God, you are a slut. Are you deepthroating that stick for practice or something?"
Pretty little titters ensued. Crystal hid behind her bangs. She may be generally repulsed by people and never associated with anyone more than required. But that did not mean that she would take a beating with her head bowed.
Almost out of reflex, she glared up at the girl. She didn't know her name, nor did she want to know. Yet, Crystal caught herself just in time. Being defiant was completely out of Rhea's character- she couldn't mess this up. Mentally chastising herself and gritting her teeth in simmering anger, she kept her head down and face passive.
"Please. Just leave me alone."
She quietly spoke, lacing her voice with just the right amount of desperation, feeling like a total wuss and hypocrite to her own morals. But it was necessary.
The girl (Trisha was her name) pulled her braid and Rhea/Crystal winced, but held it in. How anyone could be in the senior class and possess a head chock full of nitrogen she could not understand. How childish.
Thankfully, after a bit, the girl got tired of poking a bull that didn't want to fight back. She left, waltzing back to her friends, leaving Crystal to her own devices. She sighed in relief, reaching up discreetly to massage her scalp.
The teacher droned on and Crystal was bored out of her mind. Scribbling stray bits of the lecture that did manage to reach her ears (pen marks trailing off when she occasionally dosed off), she doodled and focused on counting the number of hairs on his head. Not many, she concluded, given the enormous shadow of it cast on the wall, kudos to the projector.
Twenty mind-numbingly boring minutes later, class was over and Crystal was one of the first through the oak doors. She quickly ran off to the bathroom and locked herself up in a stall. Climbing onto the toilet bowl itself to keep her feet hidden from view, she got out her phone and accessed the database. There was a message from Pearce. Apparently, the malware was complete and ready to be deployed. And the base was out of Pepperidge Farm Soft-Baked cookies. 'Pretty pretty please, could [she] get some more?'
She let out a half-amused, half irritated sigh. To Walmart it was.
Jumping back down, she straightened out her clothes. Crystal wanted to pee, but she felt strangely uncomfortable doing so in places that were not her home. School, supermarkets and gas-stations- all a big no-no. She would only resort to those in cases of the most dire gastrointestinal distress.
She stepped out of the cubicle and washed her hands. Her eyes went idly around, involuntarily taken into memory. Great. Now she had a poem by the girl (or confused boy) who proclaimed her/himself as the 'Shithouse Poet.'
"Here I sit in the misty vapor.
Someone stole the toilet paper.
I cannot wait, I cannot linger,
Watch out ass, here comes the finger!"
Crystal grimaced. Funny? Yes. Yet sadly, it was also a 'yes' to appetite ruination and all-round queasiness.
She closed the tap and ambled out. And then started. Fuck. The paper. The bio paper. Half of the term's grades depended on that one paper and not a single word was written down. A look at the clock told her that she had fifteen… no, nineteen minutes to finish it. Running as fast as she could without causing any damage to her altered appearance, she made it to a vacated classroom.
Slapping down a sheaf of papers on a desk and picking up a pen, she began scrawling away messily. Pausing on occasions to recall the text in her books, she wrote and wrote. And with five minutes to spare, she was done. Four pages worth. Not bad. It would probably be given a B or something. It was a pretty slip-shot job by her standards, but there was only so much even her brain could do. If she had-say-half an hour more, she could research quickly on the net and procure an 'A' worthy paper out of her ass, complete with a proper structure and all. Yet, she wasn't God. She couldn't lengthen time.
Stuffing the essay into a binder, she put the pen in her pocket and rummaged inside her bag, pulling out her lunch. She stared at it with disdain. Romeo was a true lazy bastard. He packed nothing but a bag of mini-Twizzlers. Crystal could shovel down candy no problem- but the red leather-licorice did not make it to the classification of 'food' in her books. Nevertheless, she picked out a handful and began chewing with great difficulty- one, the cheek pads, and two, mmmm. Dried pig hide.
Damn asswipe blonde man bimbo. Can't get anything right.
Rounding the corner, she entered the lecture hall and took her seat at the back once more, feeling as if she was pulling teeth. Resting her head in her arms, she fervently wished for the day to be over. But the umpteenth glance at the clock confirmed one thing. If there was such thing as a God, he sure as hell wasn't merciful.
"So kids, how was your day?"
Crystal glowered at Skye, who was smiling smugly. Matt bore the face of a cat who got the cream, a face so content that she wanted to smash it with a lamp. Even Skye, the ever so silent one, couldn't resist poking fun at Crystal's expense. It was a love-hate relationship with the lot of them right now.
"Oh bite me. Just drive."
She sank moodily into the seat, snatching a clear plastic baggie. Reaching into the mouth, she pulled out six different pieces of padding one by one, dropping the into it and sealing the bag. Twisting her jaw, she finally felt a little better. She looked over at Matt, who had just done the same thing. He had a leg propped up on the seat in front of him and was staring out of the window. He then looked over at Crystal and smiled.
"How was your day little sis?"
Crystal sighed. It was hard to get mad at Matt- it was in his character. Asides from his obviously staggering intellect, it was his superpower.
"I finished my paper. It was pretty shoddy though. Romeo packed me nothing but Twizzlers so it's like World War Three in my intestine right now. Some candy-assed bitch pulled my hair. Still can't smell after the ammonia burns in chemistry. Uh… let's see what else… Oh yeah. Apparently Pearce finished the code. We're good to go."
Matt poked her cheek.
"See? Silver linings."
She stuck her tongue out, feeling happier. She already had a pretty good idea of what Trix's day comprised of. Law, law. More law. A break full of unabashed flirting. His character Cody was also a bit of a playboy- spends no more than three days with the same girl on his arm. Matt's own character was pretty close, but it was more like Romeo and Crystal- all hot air. Just banter.
She suddenly remembered Pearce's request.
"Hey, Skye. Can we go to Walmart or Freddy's or something? Base out of cookies."
He sighed.
"That's all Krusty's doing. Bastard gets mile high and claims all the food in the five kindoms as his munchies."
Crystal absently rubbed her head, while Trix chuckled for his miscellaneous electronics. She had no problem with Krusty and his fixes. He was a brilliant mind and a nice guy- if he needs to get bombed to do his job, so be it. But right now, he was being a bit of a bitch. She was well aware of their IQs and the calorific needs required for their jobs. A bag of Twizzlers didn't cut it. And Krusty's velociraptor-like search for anything sweet really frayed the edges of her nerves.
The little Mini went into the parking lot of the nearest Walmart and Skye drew the short straw. Although he was just about as socially inept as Crystal and Pearce were, he was the only one still wearing his disguise. Disgruntled, the man pulled his Yankees baseball cap over his eyes and walked off, slouched, towards the supermarket. She and Matt settled for playing Cheat with an old pack of cards stashed somewhere in the cup holder.
Matt had a very subtle tell. Every so often, when he would cheat, he moved his hand to his temple, as if to adjust his goggles. Crystal smirked. Pretty soon, she would be twenty dollars richer.
Ten minutes later, they were on the road back to their neck of the woods with two bags full of assorted soft baked cookies, a pouty Trix and Crystal who was beaming and waving a wad of fivers in his face. As Skye turned into the hollowed out path in the thickets, she stuffed the cash into her bag and got ready to hop out and relax a little. The preparations were done and the warehouse was the only true home she knew. She intended to relax before the nerves settled down in two days, when they were launching the creatively named Operation 34.
She mused. The customary celebration. What were they going to do? It was always a bittersweet tradition. The night before a big scheme, they throw themselves a party- no disguises or anything of the sort. No one pays attention to six rowdy late teens and young adults getting wasted at a bar. Just in case they were caught soon after.
If the mission was successful, one to three weeks later, they all go truly apeshit.
"Yo, Trixie. What are we doin' tomorrow?"
His exaggerated pout vanished and he became excited and pensive.
"Hm. It's Texas. Old West bar or something? Ooh. With a big pot of proper chili. And hats. We need the hats."
Crystal was a bit surprised. That actually sounded good. Although peppers and beer didn't do too well, stomach-wise. But still. It was better than the time Romeo dragged the lot of them to a strip club- a gay strip club that left the men scarred for life. The boys didn't let Romeo go unpunished though. They tied him down into a chair and bought him a lap dance from a guy in a spangled thong. Backdoor Barney was his name. The look on his face, Crystal even without her unrelenting memory, wouldn't forget. No one else would either- they still had the video.
After that, just to make it fair, they went to a straight club too. She and Pearce busied themselves eating at the free buffet table. No pun intended.
"That sounds good. Let's go to a pub away from campus. Firehouse?"
He nodded.
"Yeah. The chicks there… well. Their privates should be called publics."
Crystal rolled her eyes and whacked him over the head. Matt screamed quite girlishly and covered into his seat, chucking. She smiled despite herself as well. Besides, it wasn't as if he was lying. It was entirely true.
"What do you think Skye? That sound good to you?"
The man nodded.
"Hm. I could use some chili and a quart of draft. I'm game."
Matt slumped in his seat and muttered to himself. Crystal believed he said something along the lines of 'yeah, and a vagina too.' Sighing, she sank back down into the seat, making a mental note to perhaps reserve a table. It was unfortunately Friday tomorrow and Friday nights were generally slut-fests. The place would be packed- it would be quite difficult to find space. But then again, it would be easier for them to hide in plain sight. Oh well. You can't win them all.