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A red Mustang pulled up in front of Logan International Airport in Boston. The door opened and two men and a woman walked out. The men lead the way with the woman trailing behind them, holding a briefcase.
"I have a plan which struck me when I learned that Elsa can cast illusions. This is putting all of our jobs and lives on the line. If you fail, we could get a lifetime sentence in jail."
They held authority for sure. It could be seen in the way the walked through the sliding the doors and towards the check-in counter.
"I have three friends who hold Turkmenistan passports and visa. After a bit of persuasion and handing out a bit of greens, they agreed. Agreed to let us borrow their passports which will arrive in the afternoon. Now here is the deal - Elsa will have to cast an illusion, making you three look like them."
One of the men wore a pinstripe suit and was Caucasian. He had murky brown eyes that held a shifty look and his hair was swept to a side. He frequently cracked his knuckles and kept on glancing at his fellow companions.
"Lyon, your name is Jules Angel. You are a spice business tycoon that export the stuff to Central and South Asia. You are a natural flirt, being the competent bachelor you are but very sophisticated and posh. You need to do the talking."
The other was too fair-skinned and sported a shirt and dark jeans paired with a grey blazer. He, on the other hand, had an expressionless face but his eyes held an unknown emotion. He kept a steady gaze and didnt open his mouth to speak at all.
"Elsa, your name is Alexander Watermman." "A man?" "Yes. He is a salesman at a Ferrari showroom in DC. He is very quiet. Very. This is the reason I assigned you him. Illusion affects the eyesight, not hearing. A feminine voice from a man could arise suspicion."
