Vic got out of the Ford Super Duty F-350 Platinum crew cab truck he was using for his undercover role. It had New Mexico plates and a decal of the Lipan Apache Nation on the back window. He locked it, looked around and then walked to a brown van parked two cars away in the packed casino parking area on the outskirts of Luckenbach. Kit and two of the staff from the bureau running the surveillance van did a double take when Vic opened the door and climbed in. “Good grief. When I look at you, I know it’s you, but I don’t recognize you at all. The Dream Tan really worked.” Vic grinned. “That’s the idea. It’s called red bronze. Clint’s wife, Sandra, put it on me. She did my hands, too.” “It’s a perfect job. Natural. Hey—take a look at the leather jacket.” The guys whistled. “Nice. Expensive. The turquoise beading gives it an authentic air.” “It is an authentic Lipan design.
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