Ian sat in a chair across from Jebon as he hammered away on his keyboard while a device next to it made a whirring sound. After finishing his final keystroke, Jebon laughed lightly. “I swear, this peasant grunt shit is not what we’re all about.” He said it as though he was partially concerned whether or not Ian thought that their primary set of operations revolved around making fake ID cards. “Our other guy was the fake ID guy. We all need this kind of thing, not just you – but since he’s been gone a while, I’m the only one who knows how to do this shit correctly. Those other guys back there,” he gestured in the direction of the living room, “Complete incompetent toolboxes.”
“No worries,” Ian said, as if he had any other choice. The machine printed out an ID card after which Jebon picked it up and examined it. Proudly, he handed it over to Ian.
Ian looked at his new ID card. It was a California driver’s license with every detail he told him to input – a decoy address, height, hair color, eye color, even a signature which was noticeably lifted slightly just like a real driver’s license. Besides three tiny scratches on the back that looked like any other wear and tear on a card, it was nearly perfect.
“That signature,”Jebon said, “Memorize it, practice it, do what you gotta do. That’s you now. That’s Kevin Demarcos.” Ian was impressed with how it worked and how real it seemed. “Don’t get me wrong though, that is a legitimate California ID – meaning it’s made of the same material and has every watermark and UV seal on it that every other California license has.” He tapped on the machine that printed it out. “Because this is one of those machines.”
Ian was impressed and for the first time since the incident, felt hopeful. Jebon continued. “As per our agreement, I guaranteed you a new social security number and a Nation Bank account. I’m getting that up for you now.”
There were a few other beeping devices and a couple clanking sounds from the machines nearby the computer as another card was produced within a few minutes. Jebon pulled that card from the machine and examined it first before handing it over. “That, is your Nation Bank debit card. Yeah – we have inside people,” he said with a smirk.
“So how does this work?” Ian asked.
“Like any another bank account.” Jebon explained. “See, if you change your identity, you’d be storing all your money in a fucking shoebox box if you didn’t have a bank to put it in – and if you change your identity, you don’t have a Social Security number to open an account with. I got you covered. You can check your account online like a regular bank account because it is a regular bank account. If you’re feeling extra ballsy, you can even go into a Nation Bank branch and make whatever transactions you need there because you have your fancy new ID.”
Ian raised his eyebrows. “So that’s it? I’m all set?”
Jebon laughed. “I can tell you’re eager to leave. I need to explain a few more things first because I can tell you’re new as fuck to this and I would just feel bad if I sent you out into the world without giving you a few pieces of advice on how to handle this.”
Ian listened intently.
“Few things you need to know,” Jebon said. “Your Kevin Demarcos identity is in the system now. Your old identity is in the system too so there will be a problem if there are any aspects of your two identities that get crossed.” His lecture continued. “Do not and I repeat do not get your fingerprints taken. Ever! That is a missing piece from your new Kevin Demarcos file. If any cop or anyone else scans your ID card, it will show ‘no information’ for any fingerprints on file. That will look suspicious and they will look into it. We can’t take your fingerprints here because, well, they’re the fingerprints of your old identity.”
“What about Nation Bank?” Ian asked.
“We’re not in bed with Nation Bank,” Jebon said. “We have a guy on the inside that helps us with these transactions, but any other clerk won’t think twice before requesting your fingerprints for a variety of reasons. Your fingerprints will not match up with what’s paired with the social security number.”
“Don’t get fingerprints taken. Got it. What else?” Ian asked determined to get as much information as he could before he left.
“Don’t lose your debit card,” Jebon continued. “Don’t lose your ID. If anything goes wrong, you can come back to me the same way you found me. I’ll hook you up again but the price will increase. Don’t get caught. If you get caught, you’ll be forced to provide fingerprints and you’ll be fucked anyway.”
“What happens if my debit card expires?” Ian asked.
Jebon raised his eyebrows, almost appearing impressed by the question. “Like I said, you know how to find me. However, the expiration date is set for nine years from now. If you can make it nine years without fucking up this whole operation, I’ll update all your shit for free,” he said with a smile.
Ian put his new cards into his wallet. “Thank you,” he said nervously ever so anxious to get out and leave. What was the penalty for having a fake ID? For completely changing your identity without registering it with the government or something? It wouldn’t matter at this point. The concept of law obedience flew out the window a few days ago.
Jebon seemed satisfied. “Well, that concludes our business, Kevin Demarcos,” he led him down the hallway and back through the living room. Tuck, the black guy and the other guy no longer appeared to be in the house. There were still boxes everywhere and papers strewn on the table. Jebon opened the front door. The outside light was much too bright for his eyes that got adjusted to the dimly lit house. “Now get the fuck out of here and live your life.”
Ian Avery entered the building. It couldn’t have been more than an hour later, Kevin Demarcos came out.