A passenger at one of the back seats of the plane was clearly immersed in an interesting book. His lip and brow piercings and revealed tats made most give him a double take. Having shaved the sides of his head, he ran his hand through the longish dark brown hair left to be a broad mohawk. Airhostesses seemed to ignore him by darting past. He stopped one by reaching out to grab hold of the tray without looking at her, intently studying his book.

Her trepidation was apparent in her grey eyes. "Would you like something to drink, sir?"

He raised his head and his dark blue eyes bored through hers. "It seems I've finally become visible."

"I assumed you didn't want to be disturb—"

"Water sounds good."

....................................................

It seemed this "Joey Grey" was a promised new member of the mafia operating somewhere in England. Levi could not tear his eyes from the guy's "story." If he was going to play the guy's part successfully, he had to know him—as much as possible. The real guy was already in jail for being part of a store robbery. It almost freaked Levi how much he had in common with this guy. He had a good hand with guns, was his height, and almost looked exactly like him. But one thing was wrong; Levi wasn't going to get caught.

Only one guy had literally seen the original Joey Grey. All Levi had to do was avoid him—somehow, or his cover would be blown. It seemed D. Smith wanted to hit two birds with one stone. He had to find the leader of the gang who had escaped the electric chair back in the U.S. And there was Greenwood to deal with. Imagine all Joey Grey's name was doing even though he was behind bars!

Levi sipped at his bottle of water and remembered the airhostess's ashen face. He grinned to himself. His appearance had greatly changed, thanks to Michael. The tattoos had been duplicates of the real Joey Grey's. Fortunately the piercing holes Levi had had from his teen years were in the perfect places for the Joey Grey's. While on his way to the airport, he had learned from the "biography" how to be the guy also in demeanor. By the time it was announced that the plane was about to land a couple of hours later, Levi clapped the book shut and shoved it into his backpack. He'd need to burn it later.

....................................................

Exhilarated—the one word that perfectly described how Lisa felt. She splashed water on her face and gazed at her reflection in the mirror of the lady's room. Her dark hair was tied back into a ponytail, defining her high cheekbones. Her tank top revealed toned shoulders and arms. She chuckled in satisfaction. Working for the circus had required that she work out often, but for entertainment. No one wanted to watch a flabby lady swing from one side of the tent to the other. Working in a diner had given her an opportunity to gain a few pounds. But here she was—just having completed another day of intense physical exercise—but this time it wasn't for the crowd.

She had never studied any type of martial art until now. Having incorporated all the oriental arts, her sensei, Chow, had been harder on her. And knowing her background, he had been expectant of only the best display of agility, skill, and flash reflexes. But amidst all the pressure, she was pleased with herself. In a few weeks time she'd be more than just some waitress at a diner who by some chance once worked for the circus. She was on her way of being more—someone of real worth—someone part of bringing some justice into the world.

Hearing the door open, she turned her attention back to reality. The blonde made her way to the sink beside her and sighed wearily, her head down. Lisa glanced at her, trying to suppress the grin that threatened to come. The woman's long hair covered the side of her face. The shame she was feeling was probably her reason for letting it down. That was understandable.

Lisa had overheard that her name was Christina Hopper, but she was best known as Giddy around here. She could barely hit a target, finish a course on time, or jump down a staircase of ten steps. She guessed she knew why she was here in the lady's room. She was probably looking for respite from her flaming cheeks. Giddy had been paired up with another woman so her progress could be checked. She had seemed to be doing quite well until someone had made a rather crude remark on her dodging style. It had been an opening for her opponent to give her probably the first shiner she had ever had. It was a wonder how she'd made it out of the target house without some serious injury. But then again, she had been with Levi Stevens.

Giddy ran her fingers through her hair, pulling it back and revealing to Lisa the darkened area around her eye. "Can things get any worse?" she mumbled. Her green eyes made accidental contact with her dark ones and she saw the suppressed grin. She never knew the "saint" could have such a dark glare. "Apparently it can!" Then as if having shamed herself once more, she put her palm to her forehead in self-deprecation. "I'm so sorry," She turned to her reflection in the mirror. "I am not made for this whole thing!"

"Evidently," Lisa said without fully thinking it through.

Her jaw dropped—then as if realizing her demeanor, she pasted on a grin. "How comforting of you!" She proceeded to rinsing her face. She tied her hair back up into a strict ponytail. As Hopper glanced at her before walking out the door, Lisa had a hard time believing it was her. It was as if the water had also washed away all expression.

Lisa had a feeling she had not made a friend.

.....................................................

The back room of an abandoned gas station—an ingenious place to have headquarters. The man behind the desk took a puff at his cigar, tilting his head upward to send a stream of the blue smoke that created a ring above his head that clearly disappeared. The light from the low-hanging light bulb brought out the intensity in the man's dark eyes. His clean-shaven face and slicked-back, dark hair were a contrast to the "Joey Grey's." He had four bodyguards—two beside him and two in front of the desk. Vance Hide's pinstriped suit was a contrast to their casual attire.

Having arrived to London a week ago, Levi had managed to avoid coming into contact with the one person who "knew" him—Tony Young. To his fortune, he had come into contact with the guy's friends and had finally located Vance Hide. Joey Grey was going to be an addition into this gang because of his skills—before he got into trouble in the States. Using his cover, he was going to catch Hide and blow his operations to bits. But by the way Hide's eyes seemed to bore a hole through him; he wondered whether his cover had already been blown somehow.

"Tony has told me much about you," he stated in his rather surprising British accent, propping his legs on the desk before him. One could only imagine the cost of his black, polished dress shoes.

"Good, I trust." Levi tried himself at Grey's sarcasm.

Hide snorted, not attempting to smile. "You're a funny man?"

"I was thinking of getting a job as a comedian, but it didn't work out."

"So that's why you took Tony on his offer to get a job working for me?"

Levi racked his brain for a way to tell Hide he had misunderstood his sarcasm. But what if he hadn't been in a mood for sarcasm? The guy had shot a guy a few minutes ago. Levi had heard it on his way into his "office". One could still feel the tension in the air. He was the equivalent of a serial killer. If he had not done the deed, he had arranged it. Levi had no room to slip. There was no difference between a human life and a used facial tissue to Hide.

Levi felt sweat starting to bead on his back. "Yes, it was." He shook his head. "I mean, no. It wasn't."

Hide raised a dark eyebrow. "Which is it?" He leaned forward. "It that the reason he dragged your clean hide here from the States? Just because some gig didn't work out?"

"No, it's not."

With a liquid motion, Hide pulled out a gun, aiming for his heart casually.

Instinctively, Levi sucked in his breath and held it.

"So you were lying to me?"

For the first time in years, his pulse beat wildly in his throat. This mission could not end this way. He released his breath in an attempt to calm down. He shrugged, fighting to keep cool-headed. "No, I'd assumed you'd be smart enough to know I was being sarcastic." Levi cringed the way his words had come out. Where the heck had all his training gone? The silent tension in the dim-lit room could've been tangible. He fought to keep steady eye contact with Vance's dangerously glistening one. The man was more than ready to pull the trigger.

Levi only hoped that the CIA would forgive him.

I guess that's it for now! Feedback is always welcome. Since I have now twelve chapters up, I will start posting a chapter or two once a week...and maybe have a surprise here and there by dragging it up to two times a week! Anyway, it's time for me to write hard...for y'all!