Disclaimer: I do not own Mission: Impossible - Ghost Protocol or any of the affiliated characters


Chapter 9: Life of the Party

"I'm still a little confused as to where Benji got cars like this," I said. I sat in the passenger seat while Brandt drove the foreign sports car to the mansion. I thought that might be a little flashy, but as we grew closer to the building, I realized that our silver car was far less conspicuous than the lime green and cherry red vehicles ahead of us.

"I've found it's less confusing to just not ask questions," Will said.

Benji's voice came over our ear pieces. "A magician does not reveal his tricks. And by the way, I'm in with the electric."

We pulled up to the front of the mansion. "And the bow?" Will asked as he put the car in park.

"Yes, I still have the damn bow on."

I smiled and checked the side-view mirrors before stepping out of the car. Will handed the keys to the chauffeur while the attendant offered me his hand. I was barely on both feet before Will was at my side, taking my arm. We started the ascent up the stairs past the large white columns and into the mansion.

Once inside, we went down the wide stairs, covered in a maroon carpet. They were no where as steep as the ones at the safe house, so I was able to focus on the guests. "We're in," I said, starting to search while we were still up high.

We quickly reached the bottom step and the floor where everyone else stood talking, drinks in their hands. I kept my hand on his arm as we strolled through, scouting the guests.

A few minutes later, I glanced up to the entrance and saw Jane and Ethan at the top step. "Any luck?" Ethan asked while they walked down.

"We went around the whole room," Will said. "No sign of Bertov."

"Benji?" Jane asked.

"Nothing on the cameras," he replied. "Why don't you just relax for a while then?"

I saw Ethan pause at the bottom of the stairs. "Was that supposed to be a joke?" Then he moved his hand, as if to hold it up. "Never mind. Don't answer that. We'll stay on opposite sides of the room. Just keep a clear view of the entrance."

Jane and Ethan started over to the right side of the room, so Will and I turned in our rounds and took the left. We stood by a thick white pillar, him leaning against it, facing both me and the entrance. He glanced up at the top of the steps occasionally, but then returned to looking at the massive crowd.

"Analyzing anyone in particular?" I asked for conversation after a few minutes of nothing but idle chatter from Jane and Ethan, which I couldn't make out anyway.

He shrugged. "Mostly business tycoons and philanthropists. You know, money people."

"How'd we manage to get in here?" I joked.

He looked down at his suit and bow tie. "I thought I was passing."

"Yeah, you clean up nice," I admitted.

A smile graced his lips, just pulling them up at the corners. He dropped his voice. "You too."

"Hey, I've got Bertov on camera," Benji said suddenly. "He's coming down one of the hallways, and he has his assistant guy with him."

Will and I both straightened up, returning our attention to the entrance. "Got him," Will said. His eyes followed the two men down the stairs. "They're going to the bar."

"That's where you two need to be," Ethan reminded me and Jane.

Will nodded and moved so I could pass him. I glanced across the room and saw Jane moving towards the bar, the same way I was. We approached the large, circular slab of granite countertop which had ten bartenders stationed around it. I let Jane go first.

She walked by just as Bertov's second stuck out the hand holding his drink. She made a show of knocking into the glass, buy deftly slid out of range of the spilt liquid. The man turned to her quickly, eyes wide. "I'm so sorry!" he exclaimed in a heavy accent. I didn't catch the rest of the conversation, but it ended with his hand at the small of her back, leading her to another seat at the bar and buying her a drink.

I easily strolled for five seconds before taking the seat next to Bertov. He took another sip of his drink. He was clean shaven and had bushy hair, but he wasn't bad looking - he was just twenty years older than I was.

"This is incredible," I said for conversation after receiving my drink but no attention from the Ukrainian.

Now, he looked at me, obviously surprised that I was speaking to him. But he recovered gracefully and replied in accented English, "Indeed it is." He smiled, but it wasn't a flirtatious smile; it was warm and friendly. "Do you see how the chandeliers reflect off the floor, not as a glare, but rather another source of light? It saves electricity."

He was concerned about conserving electricity. In my mind, I saw how this would end without us interfering: Cibulka would approach him, Bertov would say no, and he would be dead within twenty-four hours. "Ingenious," I said, leaning towards him. "The decorator is excellent."

"Why, thank you," he said. I pretended to be confused. "I helped with the design. I am Leonid Bertov." I allowed him to kiss my hand. "It is a pleasure."

I nodded and we continued talking, him ignoring or just not seeing my flirting. I started to get suspicious that I wasn't getting anywhere. I formed a plan in my mind, and instead of flirting, I put as much effort into subtly hinting at him to drink more, asking for refills or pouring some of my drink into his when he wasn't looking. Not surprisingly, he held his liquor well, but he seemed a little more relaxed after twenty minutes, though it didn't do what I had wanted. There was no leaning in, no suggestive comments, and no hand on my leg - even though I was sitting with the slit in my dress on his side.

I heard laughter and cheers from the other side of the bar and looked over. There was Jane, acting like she was having the time of her life, and Bertov's man was soaking up the attention she was giving him. I watched Bertov as he turned to see as well. I followed his eyes; I was almost positive he wasn't looking at Jane.

My plan needed readjustment. I made up a lame excuse about rejoining my escort and asked him to forgive me. "Nonsense," he said with a wave of his hand. "It was a pleasure speaking with you." He kissed my hand again. "Enjoy your evening." Nothing. Not even a twinge of disappointment at finding I was here with someone else.

"Why are you leaving?" Ethan asked as I stepped away from the bar.

"Problem," I whispered into my ear piece. "I'm not getting anywhere."

"What do you mean?" That was Will.

"He's not into me." Benji snickered quietly, but I heard him. "Shut up, Benji. I have an idea." I heard nothing except for the party going on by Jane. It was muted though; Benji must have turned her ear piece down. "Will, meet me by the pillar to the left of the bar. Make sure you pass Bertov and make eye contact with him. Don't put anything behind it, just make sure he sees you."

"Um," he said, his voice hesitant, "okay."

He began to walk, and did what I told him to. I saw, even after Will stopped looking and joined me at the pillar, Bertov still followed him with his eyes.

"Cass, what are you doing?"

"Following a hunch," I replied, positioning myself and moving Will so that his back was to Bertov and I could see him at the bar over Will's shoulder.

"Want to tell me what you're thinking?" he mumbled.

I nodded, then swallowed and realized my mouth was dry. "Kiss me," I told him while I put my hand on the back of his neck. He didn't question me, just moved his hand to my cheek and bent his head, suprisingly quick for such a request as mine was. But in that split second of anticipation, I saw something flash in his blue eyes.

I was supposed to be looking at Bertov to see his reaction, but I forgot. I forgot Bertov, and Ethan and Jane and Benji, and the hundred or so people around us. I forgot the mission. I forgot to breathe.

Feeling more the thrill of my action than the regret I knew may follow, I pulled away and stared at him. He searched my face, mouth barely parted, eyebrows slightly knit, like he was trying to read my mind. He didn't have to: if he kept looking at me like that, I'd tell him whatever he wanted to hear.

"What kind of hunch is this?" Benji asked loudly.

I remembered - I remembered him, and Ethan, and Jane, and Bertov. I tore my gaze away from Will's wondering blue eyes and glanced over his shoulder at Bertov, who was still looking our way, giving the slightest impression of being saddened. "I think Bertov is gay."

There was a pause. "Are you sure?" Ethan asked.

"Yes," I said. "And it's the best chance we have."

Suddenly, my ear piece filled with laughter. "No fan for you this time, Brandt," Benji sniggered.

"Shut up, Benji," Will said.

I looked up at him. He didn't look too happy with the change in plans, but there was still a light in his eyes as he looked at me. "This one's on you," I said regretfully.

He snorted. "Lucky me."

"You'll need my hair pin." He nodded and stroked my hair, careful not to mess up the style as he gently drew the piece out. I felt goosebumps erupt all along my neck and down my arms. "I'm going to excuse myself, and you're going to stand next to him at the bar." I reached up to kiss him on the cheek and heard him sigh, most likely because he had to go do something he really didn't want to do. I turned away and headed over to where I knew Ethan was while Will strode back to the bar.

I couldn't hear what they were saying as the bar was the noisiest area, but I could tell that I was right; Bertov had started the conversation. After a few minutes, Bertov rose and Will followed, and slowly things became more audible.

"Let me show you my collections. They are near my rooms."

Under his breath, Will mumbled, "Of course they are." I put a hand over my mouth while Benji burst into laughter. Even Ethan's mouth twitched.

"I'm sorry?" Bertov asked.

"I said that's not far," Will covered.

"You go, Loverboy," Benji snickered.

There was some silence, and then a sharp, quick, "Shut up, Benji."

I lost sight of them as they went up the stairs and down a hallway to the right. Before I even looked away, another guest arrived: Cibulka. I nudged Ethan's sleeve.

"How's it going, Jane?" he asked.

"It's kicking in," she said quickly, referring to the powder. She then returned to the boisterous crowd she was with. I saw them seated at an enormous curved couch, Jane as close as she could possibly be to Bertov's man, who looked so drunk, he'd pass out if he stood up.

And that's exactly what he did. It was interesting to watch, as he got to his feet and all the color drained from his face. I gave him props for holding onto his glass even though his legs collapsed beneath him. Jane acted out making a big fuss tending to him while another man loudly shouted something about not being able to hold his liquor and letting him sleep it off.

Now, Cibulka was looking around and moving closer to us. I glanced up at Ethan, and he immediately understood, pretending to be deep in conversation with me. "I'm very sorry," he said as Cibulka came within ear range. He spoke English, but faked a Russian accent. "But I would be happy to deliver the message to Mr. Bertov."

I nodded and excused myself. I glanced back when I heard another voice: Cibulka. "I understand you take messages for Mr. Bertov?" Ethan nodded. "Do you conduct his business as well?"

"Ah," Ethan said. "A proposition?"

The sinister smile that suddenly spread across Cibulka's face raised the goosebumps that had just settled down on my skin. But they were definitely not the same kind that came from being near Will. While Ethan walked off with Cibulka, I stood by a pillar and waited for Will to reappear.

"Everything work out?" Jane had come to my side. I nodded, not taking my eyes away from the stairs. I was suspicious of his analyst front, and I knew there was something else about him. I knew he could take care of himself easily. I knew Bertov wasn't even a threat. But despite all the sound logic in my head, I began to worry.

"So," Benji finally said, and his voice almost made me jump. "How was seducing the rich guy?"

"He really was nice, but he just wouldn't stop talking. I had to take him out in the middle of his explanation on some painting from the eighteenth century." I let out a small sigh of relief upon hearing his voice. Will turned the corner and walked down the stairs, coming to a stop when he reached me and Jane.

"Not as much fun as you thought it would be?" Benji's voice was a little smug.

Will shrugged to himself. "No, but it's a hell of a lot better than sweating through a magnet suit."


That scene in Ghost Protocol after Brandt jumps into the fan and says, "next time, I get to seduce the rich guy" is actually where this whole thing came from. I was just going to do this as a one-shot, but then a story kind of developed around it and I couldn't resist.