"Hello miss," the airport employee greeted Anistasia with a glued-on smile, "may I take your bags?"
"Yes, thank you." Anistasia disposed people who pretend to enjoy their jobs when you can tell they hate it, those people irritated her.
"Ma'am, may I see your passport?" Anistasia handed the disgustingly cheerful employee her passport that the identity techs in Synov'ya Stali had cooked up for her. Her new name was Sara Thomas, a name that sounded familiar, maybe it was a pop star, it didn't matter. She was still twenty six but the disguise professionals wouldn't let her keep her look as it was. They gave her colored contacts to turn her blue eyes green and they had dyed her platinum blonde hair more of a golden color with a tint of red. She liked her new look, the platinum blonde hair and blue eyes had looked too cold, this looked much more natural and friendly.
She boarded the plane after getting through customs and sat down in the window seat of her row. She put her earbuds in, preparing herself for the ten hour flight to get to Maryland, where her target lived. She took out the file on him and began to read. His name was George Sears. Born in Texas and raised in Maryland by a middle class family with a very strict father who was a United States attorney, he looked like the poster boy of politics. At thirty years old and having spent the last five years as a Maryland representative in the House, he was running for the Senate.
Learning all the odds and ends of George's life had Anistasia thinking about the holes in her memory about her own, the parts of her childhood she couldn't remember, the parts Kazimir had filled in for her. The name Sara Thomas wouldn't stop echoing through her mind, she knew this name from somewhere, but just couldn't remember where. She took out the file on her fake life the gechs had written out for her. Born and raised in Texas, she had apperantly gone to study in Russia for her language development and became the principal checklist in their philharmonic orchestra. it was very well thought out and descriptive, Anistasia thought about how easily she could immerse herself into this roll, this silly little country chick swooning for a big shot future senator, the trick would be getting this upright guy to fall for her and tell her what she needed to know.
