Secret Agent Outfits Novels & Stories

And he would never, ever let her go. I moved to the closet in the study, unlocking a discreet panel. Inside, on a simple rack, hung clothes that didn’t belong to Michael Sotheby, CEO. Dark, durable fabrics. Functional boots. I stripped off my tailored shirt and trousers, the soft cotton feeling suddenly like a costume. The clothes I pulled on were anonymous, tactical. They smelled of cold air and readiness.

" Okay go straight and take the first bend to your right, you'll see the lift go up to the 20th floor " " Thank you so much " he said while running towards the direction indicated. Once he got into the lift, he began admiring himself through the mirror of the lift as he was clothed in a blue long sleeve shirt and black plants, with well polished shoes. " I know I'm desperate for this job but I won't let them see this" immediately he said this, the doors of the lift opened revealing the receptionist for that floor. He walked up to her and told her his reason for being there and she stared at him fork head to toe before leading him towards the waiting area.

They would get to the bottom of this. She emerged from the bedroom to find the others were assembled. They all wore suits. Black pants, jacket, white shirt, black ties. Very Secret Service, complete with ear pieces and concealed weapons. Even Melody had dressed the part, though her outfit was snazzier with wide legged trousers and a black necklace instead of a tie.

As an associate of the CIA, she has discovered things about politicians that could ruin their life let along their career. She slipped on coal grey suit. A buttoned up blazer, tight around the waist with the matching dressing pants. She picked up the emerald leather shopper bag she’d brought with her and same color heels. Her coat was also a very dark shade of green. She put some lipstick on and went about her way. Of course she ordered a taxi from the hotel lobby. The receptionist was kind enough to compliment her outfit too.

A few minutes later a small motorboat pulled up to the dock and Silas stepped out carrying three large garment bags and a small leather case that looked like it was designed for expensive jewelry. He walked into the boathouse and made a face at the smell of damp wood and boat fuel, but he didn't say anything as he laid the bags out on the table and started showing us the gear he had managed to secure from his contacts in Milan. "The tuxedo has a lining made of a flexible mesh that will block most portable scanners and the cuffs are designed to hold two extra magazines, and for the lady I have a dress that has a hidden compartment in the hem for a ceramic blade and a lipstick that is actually

Marcus coordinated the pack’s security, while I spent eighteen hours a day behind a triple-encrypted firewall, purging any trace of our movements from the city’s surveillance grid. ​When the night of the summons finally arrived, the air in the penthouse was thick with the scent of ozone and expensive cologne. I stood before the mirror, adjusting the cuffs of a charcoal-gray suit that felt more like armor than silk. I had abandoned the severe buns and professional glasses; my hair fell in dark waves over my shoulders, and the silver Mark on my neck was proudly visible above the collar.

Fort stopped beside one of the clothing racks and picked up a red dress from the hanger. Then he looked at me. “I want you to start dressing like a woman every day.” I blinked. “Every day?” His voice remained completely serious. “Yes.” He hung the dress back onto the rack. “We are under the watchful eyes of our enemies now.” He gestured around the room. “This will create confusion.” His gaze sharpened. “And when you go on missions, no one will be able to trace where you came from.” He stepped closer. “No one will know who you really are.”

“I’m leaving soon. I’ll be away until next week.” His face fell as she closed the door. After dumping the basket next to her desk, Galene pulled out a duffel bag from beneath the bed. She’d need pajamas. Did she own a decent pair? Perhaps she could just wear yoga pants and a shirt. What does one wear to a secret government facility run by aliens? Clamping down on hysterical giggling, Galene dumped clothes into her bag. A knock at her door had her jumping. “I made you a sandwich.”

It’s like a butterfly voluntarily flying into a spider’s web—I’m not letting this opportunity slip past me. I unlocked the door. “Hello,” I said politely. I was getting better at looking at him and not hyperventilating. Am I finally getting used to his handsomeness? If Jester was disappointed that I looked very different from my usual glamorous self, he didn’t let on. He was probably sensible enough to assume that even celebrities tend to dress down when they’re at home. On the other hand, Jester was in his AG uniform. They were similar to Adventurer gear, but a little classier: dark grey thermal undershirts that doubled as body armor, a black leather-like jacket trimmed with silver firmly f

"No dead zones. No secrets." Amelia crossed her arms. "What about disguises? People showing up as someone else?" "Then we give them a reason to unmask," he said coldly. "Theatrics, misdirection, and a few staged incidents to distract. They’ll slip eventually." While the security team coordinated under Luke, Amelia worked with a designer on the gown she’d wear which was lavender silk, custom-fit, and designed to catch light like liquid. It was beautiful. But underneath it, she’d be wired. Frederick had already assigned two shadows to her.