Politics as many knew was nothing more then a game of lies and deceit. Half Truths, yet never the whole, told to reach a one's goal. A game that involved one always having to stay one step ahead of the other players.
Red liked to believe that was why he was so good at it.
The Russian had a way of staying one step ahead of everyone else, carefully planning each and every move like a game of Chess, that only he knew they where playing. As far as Red was concerned, every move he made was a matter of survival. One false step and it would all come crumbling down, leaving him venerable and open to the savage wolves that where just waiting to tear him to pieces.
To bad for them, Red had no intention of lowering his guard enough to allow them such pleasantries.
With every plan come conquests.
No plan every survived being put into action, Red knew that. It was because of that reason that Red had yet to find a suitable plan for how to deal with this Rockgut. He wasn't quite ready to show himself just yet.
He would need a solid plan that couldn't possibly be traced back to him. A plan that he could control the conquests of and manipulate them to work towards his advantage.
The Russian allowed his eyes to roam over his desk as his mind already being to form and discard plans that would be of little to no use to him. Finally his gaze landed on a pearl colored envelope supporting his name in a dark cursive writing.
The Ball.
Red had almost forgot about it since he hadn't planned to attend but now Red's mind was already forming a plan to use it to reach his end goal. He would have to pull a few strings to ensure Rockgut went though.
The Agent wasn't very social, avoiding must gatherings like a plague, not that Red actually blamed him. Half the time, Red personally preferred a plague over such gatherings. The only one's the Russian really attended where the few that caught his eye and could help either keep his Public Image or advance his plans.
Humming softly in thought, Red picked up his phone.
A few whispered suggestion in the right places should at least see to it the man was placed on the Security Team.
Balls had never been Red's thing, sure he could dance and knew how to play the part wither it was Host of Guest. Red just didn't like them, the crowds, the gossip, the smell of either cheap or too expensive cologne and perfumes. It always seemed more of a Nigel thing then a Red thing.
Unfortunately for Red, Nigel had always dragged the Russian along when ever the young spy had the chance. When asked Nigel would always say 'If I have to suffer so do you' though the younger always had the feeling he was the only one truly suffering.
It seemed a bit ironic now that Red was the one dragging another there, even if they didn't know Red was behind it.
Fixing his tie, the Russian allowed himself a final look into the full body mirror before picking up his jacket and heading out for the night. If everything went as planned he wouldn't be back till the next day. If not...
Well he always had that unopened bottle of Vodka from the Count to nurse his sorrows on.
If there was one thing. One small simple fact anyone should know about Buck Rockgut it was that he Despised Parties.
The dim lights, false smile and pretend kinship. He hated it all. From the crowds to the spiked drinks. Unfortunately a mission was a mission and Buck Rockgut never failed a mission. Even one as despicable as this.
He didn't see why they bothered hiring him on for extra security, the place was as safe as it had always been with security that would make Fort Knox jealous. Bemoaning silently to himself the American allowed himself to lean against a wall as his eyes skimmed over the crowd.
There was the Mayor, already half drunk and preening under the faulty words of his little crowd of worshipers.
His wife was currently with one of her closer bodyguards, slipping into one of the back rooms. How the Mayor never noticed that affair was beyond him.
There was Johnson, a mid aged programmer with a very successful business, flirting with what looked to be a teenager barely of age. Probably one of the Staff's children.
And their was Johnson's wife, soon to be ex-wife, glaring at the man's back as she excused herself from her crowd and pulled out a cellphone.
Relationship issues seemed to be the theme tonight as he spotted three couples arguing in the back of the room.
Crimson eyes moved past the two groups of business men discussing how better to scam each other before noticing a flare of red at the bar.