career."
Alyssa didn’t
ask. She wavered somewhere between not wanting to know and being certain she
already knew. She knew only one reporter who had just started with freelance
journalism. Matt was way too persistent, but that didn't mean Alyssa liked the
idea of hurting his career. With bitter irony, she heard the echo of the words
she had just spoken.
"You'll
have to decide whether there are things that are beneath you."
CHAPTER FOUR
The first step
was to change her appearance. She went through three hair salons before she
could find a stylist who would take her as a walk-in. There, she met a woman
who called herself Wynd and who, like hairstylists
everywhere, insisted on talking as she worked.
"My real
name's Jennifer," she droned on, nodding at her license taped to the wall.
"But everybody born in the seventies got that name. It's totally boring.
So I call myself Wynd because I like the wind, ya
know? Only with a Y, for power to the sisters everywhere."
The stylist
couldn't possibly be as young as she acted and dressed. She wore a black PVC
miniskirt and black tank top with a studded leather belt. Her ears were pierced
about five times each. Her hair was a bright pink, and she wore far too much
blush that almost matched her hair.
Alyssa nodded
absent-mindedly in response to the prattle, flinching slightly as the scissors
brushed her ear. Silently, she wished for her normal stylist but as of now her
normal haunts were off-limits.
"You're
sure you don't want to do something a little more fun?" Wynd asked, snipping a bit more. "You'd look awesome
in a crew cut or maybe something spiky and a bit more punk."
Chambers was
about to shake her head when she remembered the proximity of the scissors.
"Nope,
just shoulder-length is fine."
Quite a
sacrifice, actually, she thought, wistfully, watching locks of her flowing black hair fall to the
ground, but shorter hair would help with her disguise. So would the temporary
dye job she was getting.
"I
understand about the blonde thing, ya know? I mean, everybody's got to try
being a blonde once. But with your eyes, you would look so awesome with green
hair. I mean, we could make you seriously cool."
"I think
I'm a bit too old to be quite that cool," Alyssa said.
A little over
an hour later, Chambers was riding the Metro to a shopping mall. First, she
found a one-hour optician, where she had an exam and got a pair of contact
lenses. Tinted, they made her green eyes a dark brown.
Her next stop
was at a women's clothing store where she purchased new slacks, a few blouses,
and one suit. She couldn't get proper fatigues, of course, but cargo pants and
t-shirts were good enough.
After riding
the train back to the touristy area of Washington, she found a hotel to use as
a base of operations. Her fake driver license and new appearance, combined with
a ready supply of cash, made booking a room easy. She checked into the kind of
place in which a Chambers was supposed to stay and flopped down on the
Egyptian-cotton sheets.
She sighed
heavily and then asked the ceiling, "OK, now what?"
With her new
looks, she'd bought herself time. With her reserve of cash and falsified credit
cards, she'd probably bought an indefinite amount of time. The smart thing
would be to rent a boat, sail to someplace in Latin America that didn't
extradite, and start a new life.
But she had
spent her whole life looking for ways to prove herself. Strong people seek out
challenges, they don't run from them. There would never be a challenge bigger
than this. Never. The machinery that the FBI and Secret Service would throw
into this investigation would be mightier than anything ever seen before. And
the plot to kill West had to have come from people with incalculable resources
to draw on. To defeat both groups, and come out with the truth and her
name clean... well, there could be no greater challenge in her life.
Alyssa would
not walk away from that. Instead, she decided to study the situation.
Alyssa didn’t
ask. She wavered somewhere between not wanting to know and being certain she
already knew. She knew only one reporter who had just started with freelance
journalism. Matt was way too persistent, but that didn't mean Alyssa liked the
idea of hurting his career. With bitter irony, she heard the echo of the words
she had just spoken.
"You'll
have to decide whether there are things that are beneath you."
CHAPTER FOUR
The first step
was to change her appearance. She went through three hair salons before she
could find a stylist who would take her as a walk-in. There, she met a woman
who called herself Wynd and who, like hairstylists
everywhere, insisted on talking as she worked.
"My real
name's Jennifer," she droned on, nodding at her license taped to the wall.
"But everybody born in the seventies got that name. It's totally boring.
So I call myself Wynd because I like the wind, ya
know? Only with a Y, for power to the sisters everywhere."
The stylist
couldn't possibly be as young as she acted and dressed. She wore a black PVC
miniskirt and black tank top with a studded leather belt. Her ears were pierced
about five times each. Her hair was a bright pink, and she wore far too much
blush that almost matched her hair.
Alyssa nodded
absent-mindedly in response to the prattle, flinching slightly as the scissors
brushed her ear. Silently, she wished for her normal stylist but as of now her
normal haunts were off-limits.
"You're
sure you don't want to do something a little more fun?" Wynd asked, snipping a bit more. "You'd look awesome
in a crew cut or maybe something spiky and a bit more punk."
Chambers was
about to shake her head when she remembered the proximity of the scissors.
"Nope,
just shoulder-length is fine."
Quite a
sacrifice, actually, she thought, wistfully, watching locks of her flowing black hair fall to the
ground, but shorter hair would help with her disguise. So would the temporary
dye job she was getting.
"I
understand about the blonde thing, ya know? I mean, everybody's got to try
being a blonde once. But with your eyes, you would look so awesome with green
hair. I mean, we could make you seriously cool."
"I think
I'm a bit too old to be quite that cool," Alyssa said.
A little over
an hour later, Chambers was riding the Metro to a shopping mall. First, she
found a one-hour optician, where she had an exam and got a pair of contact
lenses. Tinted, they made her green eyes a dark brown.
Her next stop
was at a women's clothing store where she purchased new slacks, a few blouses,
and one suit. She couldn't get proper fatigues, of course, but cargo pants and
t-shirts were good enough.
After riding
the train back to the touristy area of Washington, she found a hotel to use as
a base of operations. Her fake driver license and new appearance, combined with
a ready supply of cash, made booking a room easy. She checked into the kind of
place in which a Chambers was supposed to stay and flopped down on the
Egyptian-cotton sheets.
She sighed
heavily and then asked the ceiling, "OK, now what?"
With her new
looks, she'd bought herself time. With her reserve of cash and falsified credit
cards, she'd probably bought an indefinite amount of time. The smart thing
would be to rent a boat, sail to someplace in Latin America that didn't
extradite, and start a new life.
But she had
spent her whole life looking for ways to prove herself. Strong people seek out
challenges, they don't run from them. There would never be a challenge bigger
than this. Never. The machinery that the FBI and Secret Service would throw
into this investigation would be mightier than anything ever seen before. And
the plot to kill West had to have come from people with incalculable resources
to draw on. To defeat both groups, and come out with the truth and her
name clean... well, there could be no greater challenge in her life.
Alyssa would
not walk away from that. Instead, she decided to study the situation.
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