Infiltration.

Drake knocked furtively on the hotel room door and was greeted by a heavyset man in a sweater and thick glasses. "Come in," the stranger grunted.

Stepping into the room, he immediately noticed the woman lying on the bed. She was tall and slim, wearing an elegant formal dress with just enough exposed skin to be alluring. Even tied up and **** she had an unearthly grace and beauty.

Next to her, a short, frazzled-looking woman in jeans and a t-shirt was tapping away at a laptop. She glanced up when Drake walked in.

"Drake? You're the fixer, right?"

He nodded, trying to assess the situation. In addition to the three people he'd noticed, there was a wiry older man in a generic dark suit. "I take it that this is Mrs. Ashcroft?"

The heavyset man chuckled hoarsely. "For now."

Drake turned to the woman with the laptop. "And you must be-"

"Claire," she said as she offered her hand. "For now. Have you been briefed?"

He nodded. "But I want to go over it again in detail."

The man in the suit spoke, his voice thin and reedy. "What we need you to do, Mr. Drake, is help Claire here blend in as Mrs. Ashcroft. She'll need to borrow a few things with your help."

"Sure. Physical form, biometric identifiers, memories. Anything else?"

"Personality, identity, and mind," the man replied. Jonathan's eyebrows shot up, but the man had no reaction.

"I don't think that's going to help you very much. After all, at what point does your mole cease to be your mole? If I remove her personality and-"

Claire cut him off. "Not remove it. You're going to give me both. I want to share them so that I can perfectly slip into the role of Mrs. Ashcroft. Not just her memories and appearance - I need to be her."

"While also being you," Jonathan said. He spoke directly to Claire. "Listen, I don't think you want to do this. The last time I tried giving someone two identities, she ended up hallucinating that a man was following her and overwriting all of her thoughts. She even came up with this story about an egg in her apartment-"

"Well, that wasn't me. I've spent years training for this sort of mission. Sharpening my self-awareness, my self-control, my identity. Trust me, I'm solid."

Jonathan scoffed. "I'm not worried about you. I'm worried about her." He indicated the prone woman. "We'll be sending her down there. It'll be you, but it'll also be her. You can train all you want, but you're not going on this mission alone. She's coming with you."

The heavyset man rolled back in his computer chair. "Drake, we didn't bring you here to get your notes. We brought you here to do a job and the advance we sent was more than generous. So quit complaining and just fucking do it already."

Drake sighed with frustration. Some people couldn't be helped. "Fine. The first thing I want to do is write down all of the transfers you need me to do. That way there's a paper trail." He sat at the desk and began to write on the hotel stationary.

"Let's see, we're taking Mrs. Ashcroft's physical form, appearance, biometrics, memories, identity, personality, and mind and giving them to Claire. Claire, I assume you'd like me to remove your own physical form and appearance?"

She nodded. "They'll just distract me. I need the rest, though."

"Obviously. So what about Mrs. Ashcroft? What if there's a fire or we need to get out quickly? We can't have a limp, formless, mindless lump of meat sitting around."

The man in the suit stepped forward and handed Drake three vials. "We've already thought of that. Here are some rudimentary components that will serve temporarily. You'll give those to Mrs. Ashcroft to ensure she will be aware but compliant."

"Rudimentary components..." Drake grasped the vials. "You made these from scratch? It's obvious, they're pretty shoddy. But as you said, I'm here to do a job and I'll do it. Ok, we're transferring everything I mentioned earlier from Mrs. Ashcroft to Claire. We're also transferring Claire's form and appearance to Mrs. Ashcroft, and giving her these 'rudimentary components.'"

The heavyset man nodded and he turned to Claire, who looked nervous. "Last chance to back out. Trust me, you're not gonna like it."

She gulped, trying to hide her fear. "It needs to be done." She paused. "Will it hurt?"

Without responding, Drake sat on the bed and concentrated. The two men leaned forward with curiosity while Claire took a deep breath.