Page 62 of Rogue Hope
“Your turn.” She slid the kit toward him. “I can’t reach the back of my neck.”
Finn followed her instructions as she talked him through the application. The focused intimacy felt both familiar and new—a remnant of their brief partnership reborn in this strange present.
“The glasses next,” she said after he’d finished. “Not just for show.” She handed him a pair of wire-rimmed frames. “Anti-facial recognition tech embedded in the lenses. Disrupts depth perception cameras without being detectable.”
“Your guy doesn’t skimp,” Finn observed, settling the glasses on his nose.
“Christian lives to plan,” she replied dryly. “Makes him excellent at his job.”
When they finished, two different people stood ready for departure—a middle-aged academic couple, unremarkable in every way. The woman’s athletic build disguised beneath shapeless, layered clothing that added perceived weight while concealing weapons. The man slightly stooped, his sharp alertness hidden behind professorial abstraction.
“Time for the behavioral component,” Zara said, executing a subtle transformation in her posture. Her shoulders rounded slightly, her stride shortening to appear less purposeful.
“Dr. Margaret Worthington,” she introduced herself. “Botanical illustrator. Forever trailing after my husband’s architectural obsessions.”
Finn matched her shift, adopting the slightly distracted air of someone perpetually lost in academic thought. “Archie Worthington,” he replied with his own inflection. “Eastern architectural symbolism. Frightfully boring to anyone but me.”
“Exactly.” She nodded with approval. “Remember—academics photograph everything but themselves. They’re constantly distracted by details others ignore. Perfect cover for surveillance.”
“And for airport security?” Finn asked, his tone shifting to practical concerns. “We’ll need identification that holds up to scrutiny.”
Zara whipped out her secure phone. “Stand against that wall.”
She positioned him precisely, then snapped several photos from different angles that captured his newly aged appearance.
Now he understood. “Kenji?”
She nodded, taking several selfies that showcased her altered features. “We have a dead drop thirty minutes from PHX. He’ll have complete documentation packages waiting—passports, driver’s licenses, credit cards with established histories.”
Finn whistled. “He can turn them around that fast?”
“He’s already got the templates ready. This is SOP for us,” she explained, sending the photos through an encrypted channel. “He just needs our current appearances.”She tucked the phone away. “The documents will scan properly at Changi. Kenji’s work rivals anything intelligence services produce.”
She reached into her bag, producing two small tubes. “Stick this in your cheek, against your gum line.” She demonstrated with her own. “Temporarily alters dental structure. Changes smile pattern recognition.”
Finn complied, feeling the subtle bulge alter his jawline slightly.
“Commercial air means TSA body scanners,” she continued, pulling out thin silicone pads. “These go in your shoes. Subtle height adjustment throws off gait recognition software.”
They gathered their carefully packed bags—nothing that would trigger security concerns, nothing connecting them to their real identities or to Knight Tactical.
“We’ll take the mountain route,” Finn said, slipping into their agreed operational pattern. “Less surveillance.”
Zara nodded, shouldering her pack with practiced ease. If the weight aggravated her still-tender muscles, her expression revealed nothing.
The cabin disappeared behind them as they slipped into the forest, mist curling around their ankles. Morning light filtered through the canopy, dappling the path ahead. They moved in comfortable silence, synchronizing their pace unconsciously.
Finn watched her navigate the uneven terrain with determination, noting how she’d altered her natural grace to match her academic persona—still efficient but lacking the predatory fluidity that marked her as a trained operative.
The prayer came unbidden as they approached the road where their transport waited.
Lord, keep her safe. Whatever happens to me, whatever truths we uncover, protect her.
Ahead lay Singapore, Shen Feng, and answers that might destroy what fragile trust they’d rebuilt. Finn adjusted his newly acquired spectacles, his resolve hardening beneath his academic disguise.
He would protect her, even if it meant sacrificing everything he’d worked for since Paris.
Some debts could never be fully repaid—but he would try anyway.
