Soren had almost forgotten about the documents entirely until Mark reached into his jacket and produced the plastic bag.
Howard took it from him and distributed the contents methodically, one envelope per person. Soren opened his and examined the identity card inside. The photograph on it shared maybe six or seven features with his actual face — similar bone structure, similar coloring, close enough to pass a casual inspection without triggering anything. It was not him, but it was close enough to be plausible, and plausible was all it needed to be.
"This is actually real?" he asked.
"Completely real," Mark said, with the mild offense of someone whose professional competence was being questioned. "This isn't a surface fake with a laminate over a blank card. Every document in that bag is
