Intelligence Operation: Paris
Paris, France
Abby and Ruth sat out in an open-air café while they waited for evening. Fortunately, it was a cloudy day, so neither of them were too hot. Both wore civilian clothes, quite a change for Abby who hadn't worn anything other than armor outside the Citadel for months. Quite honestly, she felt exposed and vulnerable and had to stop herself from subconsciously reaching down for her non-existent pistol.
At the moment, they were only a few miles from the bar where their target frequented. A few hours more and they would converge, execute the op and leave with hopefully none the wiser. Abby fingered the vial in her hands as they watched the civilians walk and mill around without a care in the world.
She'd chosen the sedative herself and knew exactly how long it to take effect. There'd been some debate, but they ultimately decided around four hours was enough time for Abby to realistically convince him to take her back to his place of residence, with enough time to allow for driving and potential traffic. It wouldn't do any good for him to pass out halfway back if he was driving. Alternatively, she'd get him drunk enough so she would drive him back.
Four hours. She was going to have to hold his attention for that long. Abby felt nervous again as she kept remembering that. Ruth had said she was confident in her ability, but Abby wasn't too sure.
"You've got that look again," Ruth commented as she sipped her coffee.
Abby looked over. "What look?"
"Your nervous but trying to hide it look," Ruth clarified with a smile.
It was eerie how good she was at this. "How could you possibly guess that?" Abby asked, raising her cup of tea. "For all you know, the tea just might not have agreed with me."
Ruth smirked. "Because one, I'm a Kidon agent who's spent a good portion of her life reading people and two, because I've had that tea and it's pretty good."
"Well, you got me," Abby sighed. "But I can't really help it."
"Nerves before an op, it's perfectly normal," Ruth encouraged. "Nothing to be ashamed of. We've all been through it."
"I doubt you were the one the entire op rested on," Abby pointed out. "The entire mission depends on me."
"True, my first mission was a bit easier," Ruth admitted. "But you're selling yourself short. And giving this guy way too much credit."
Abby set down her drink. "So, what was yours, if you don't mind?"
"Not at all," Ruth shrugged and set her coffee on the table. "There was this drug dealer in Jerusalem. Terrible guy, sold the stuff primarily to kids and teens. Thing was, he was really good at covering his tracks and had an excellent lawyer who got him out of jail time over and over. The Mossad were sick of it and wanted him gone. So, they involved the Kidon and I got my orders to kill him, but with one catch."
Abby had an idea but asked anyway. "And it was…?"
"It had to look like an accident," Ruth smiled fondly. "Now, back then I was young and wanted to impress my superiors. They would have been satisfied with a framed overdose or suicide, but I wanted it to be perfect. I found him a few days of looking around and began setting a rather elaborate trap."
Abby was curious, despite herself. "The first thing I did was kidnap his lawyer and drive him down to an area overrun with several gangs. They're very territorial and I don't imagine what they did to him was pretty. His death appeared on the news a week later. Sad, really. Unfortunate he'd chosen to associate with such terrible company, the police might have spent more than a few hours looking into his death. But it was so clearly a tragic homicide."
Ruth shook her head. "Anyway, getting off topic. So I waited as he left to go do his business and subdued his girlfriend. She talked pretty quickly and I soon knew when he'd be coming back. So I waited and when the time was right, jacked her up on a whole host of drugs and chemicals. LSD, meth, a whole bunch of stuff. She overdosed rather quickly, but that was the point. Though personally, I'm not sure if she died from the overdose or when I stabbed her several times."
Ruth took a sip of her coffee. "So once he got back, I subdued him, and got him high on just LSD. Got his prints all over the knife, so implicated him in a murder. His house was a haven of drugs already so I didn't even have to plant anything. Anyway, he's so far gone now so he pretty much let me guide him wherever. I walked him down to his car, started it, and sent him off."
"He crashed, I assumed?" Abby asked rhetorically.
"Not at first," Ruth clarified. "He drove rather drunkenly around the street for a few minutes," her eyebrow rose. "However, the Kidon have this very handy gadget that, if placed under the accelerator and hooked to it, can be remotely trigger and cause a massive speed boost. Self-destructs afterwards as well, which is handy."
"So you triggered it and he sped to his death," Abby stated.
"Exactly," Ruth nodded with a smile. "His car crashed spectacularly. I waited a few minutes to let him suffocate or burn to death before calling the medics. Though I was pretty sure the impact alone killed him. Anyway, it was eventually ruled a murder-suicide and everyone was happy."
"And you think that was easier than this?" Abby asked, staring at her incredulously. "You killed three people!"
"Three criminals," Ruth corrected emphatically. "And yes, of course it's easier. Killing people is easy, but manipulating people? A little harder, no matter if your target is an idiot or Einstein."
Abby frowned at her. "You didn't think that was a bit overkill? Quite literally?"
"Like I said, I was young and wanted to impress people," Ruth admitted, looking out into the crowd. "I would probably be a little less flashy if done today."
It was talks like these when Abby felt she should be much more scared and worried about this woman than she was. They'd be having something resembling a normal conversation and Ruth would give a story like that as an example or use it to illustrate her point. Most of the time it involved killing someone or worse.
The thing was, Ruth was just so nice and didn't act like the killer she was at all. She'd been extremely helpful and supportive and did everything possible to help her transition to her new role. She'd seen unbalanced people before and Ruth didn't exhibit any of the signs associated with that. After spending some time not just with Ruth, but the other Mossad and Kidon agents, she now had some theories as to why.
The simplest explanation is that it was just part of the job for them. Their missions were often lethal and over time they'd just become desensitized to it. From what little she knew about the Kidon, the other possibility was that they were more or less groomed not to feel anything about their targets.
She wasn't quite willing to bring up the subject of the Kidon right now. "Well," she finally said, taking a sip. "I guess this could be much harder."
"Please," Ruth said, looking back over. "You'll do fine. Remember the constant rule."
"Of course," Abby sighed. "All men are idiots when it comes to women."
"Exactly," Ruth confirmed.
"You think you're not overgeneralizing a bit?" Abby asked, that particular question bugging her ever since Ruth had first mentioned it.
"Not really," Ruth shook her head. "Trust me, I've followed this rule for years and it becomes ridiculously easy after a point. Men want attention; give that to them, make them feel important and that's ninety percent of your work done," she eyed Abby. "I'm slightly surprised you haven't figured that out yet. You're an attractive woman, surely you must have met someone?"
"Oh, I have," Abby waved her hand absentmindedly. "But I was in med school to get my degree. Not hook up with people. Besides, I had no desire to start something that wouldn't last," she fixed Ruth with a smirk. "And all the men I worked with were very intelligent, some more so than me."
"Oh, I completely believe you," Ruth clarified, setting her drink on the table. "But notice I said they're idiots when it comes to women. Big difference."
Abby was silent for a minute. "Look," Ruth turned further to face her. "I don't think you have much to worry about with this guy. Chat him up, smile, compliment him, give him everything he wants to hear. It's easier than you think, you'll see."
"Let's just hope he's not the womanizing type," Abby frowned. "That'll make things difficult."
"Oh, no," Ruth chuckled. "Those are the easiest. All you have to do is sit back as listen to them brag about themselves, while occasionally commenting on how great they must be. It's the quieter ones who are more skeptical of sudden attention that are more difficult. But that isn't this guy so don't worry."
Abby raised an eyebrow. "So if this is completely foolproof, I suppose you have a perfect track record?"
"Not quite," Ruth admitted with a smile. "In my entire career there have only been two who I've failed to successfully seduce. Though one was a Chinese spy and the other a former KGB operative. Seduction typically doesn't work on intelligence personnel, so I usually use other means. But events sometimes happen that do force my hand."
She doubted this whole mission would be quite as simple as Ruth was making it out to be, but she was too self-assured for Abby not to feel a little better about it. Though what she was doing did personally make her uncomfortable, especially when in this case it was very much rooted in truth.
Because she did see Ruth's point very well, and in fact had experienced it several times. She vividly recalled asking some of her male colleagues in med school for help on one thing or another a few times and them being very quick to instantly agree, no matter how difficult or time consuming it was.
After a few times, it became clear to her that they were primarily helping her for the sole reason of either asking her out or just having sex. It had unnerved her a little how far they were willing to go just for the possibility of either. She'd eventually stopped asking for help altogether because the longer it went on, the more it felt like she was taking advantage of their interest even if it wasn't her fault.
She'd never really thought of using her attractiveness as a weapon before, but upon thinking upon it further, Ruth was right in how useful it could be. Still, it felt exploitative on a personal level and she wasn't looking forward to seeing how accurate Ruth's rule actually was.
"You two ready?" the voice of Akello interrupted her thoughts, the voice coming in her earpiece.
Ruth switched hers on and Abby copied it. "Whenever you are. You inside?"
Abby heard a snort. "This is honestly pathetic. It took me about five minutes to get in. I've got full control of the cameras and systems."
"Excellent," Ruth stood and tossed her cup in the trash. "Time to start."
Scotland, Wilderness
As he and his team waited for intel, Cerian busied himself with learning as much about the organization, personnel and history of XCOM. Patrick had provided him everything the Council had on it, although had admitted to him that the majority of it was likely out of date as the Commander didn't feel the need to keep the Council updated on anything.
He shook his head at that. No wonder that Commander thought he could walk all over the Council. They were too scared of demanding anything and as a result he'd effectively shut them out for good. The fact that the Commander hadn't given any non-verbal updates should have been a massive red flag that things might not be so good.
To be fair, the Council was divided, but to Cerian, that set off an even bigger flag. He wasn't particularly surprised that Russia was at the forefront of the pro-Commander side, but the fact that they weren't even trying to hide it indicated that they had something planned and weren't afraid of antagonizing the other nations. And because Russia was one of the most powerful countries, it gave some of the smaller countries the courage to stand by them.
Politics aside, it was quite a fascinating few days of research. The Council hadn't skimped on hiring the best either. Shen he hadn't personally heard of, but he was apparently well known in the field. Interesting that he was a Taiwanese immigrant, Cerian wondered what his opinions to China were. He also had a daughter, apparently, stuck at some school apparently. No mention of the mother though, which was odd. But Shen had been involved in a lot of high-profile military and civilian projects, some of them UN.
It was the same with Vahlen, though she was one he'd heard of. There had been speculation that she'd been a victim of the Caliphate during the War on Terror. Apparently she'd just been recruited for XCOM.
She'd always been involved on the cutting edge of controversial and experimental military tech, so she was a natural pick for a position with so many possibilities. Although, some of the stuff she'd worked on, or had been alleged to work on was…very questionable. Fringe science was a term he'd usually dismissed, but the more he looked into Vahlen's past, the more he got the impression that she was a fringe scientist at heart.
She was involved in an extremely high number of classified projects that the Council only had limited records on. Such projects were alleged to be creating super soldiers and world-ending plagues. Stuff out of science fiction that Vahlen seemed determined to bring into reality.
Combined with the Commander's complete lack of ethics and morality, pairing them together would only lead to disaster.
But that was for the Council to deal with. His job was to find evidence of XCOM interfering in international affairs.
"Cerian!" Mary practically exclaimed, as she rushed in almost out of breath. A laptop clutched in her hands, she quickly brushed her short black hair back in attempt to look presentable. It was quite apparent from her disheveled appearance that she hadn't eaten or slept for a while.
But any trace of fatigue was gone and her eyes sparkled. Well, let's see what this is. "Yes?" He asked calmly, putting down his tablet and giving her his full attention.
"Ok, listen," she began excitedly. "You forwarded me the list of XCOM soldiers right?"
Cerian nodded. He'd allowed all the agents access to the files as soon as he'd received them. Fortunately, the soldier list was something that was current, at least in regards to the Council nations. Most countries notified the people affiliated with the Council about transfers to XCOM as well, with a few exceptions such as Israel.
"Short version is that I got a hit," she explained, taking a seat beside him and opening up her laptop. He immediately focused on it.
"On who?" He demanded as the video came into focus.
"An XCOM soldier," Mary answered. "Abigail Gertrude. I thought that was odd so I looked who she was with." She focused the image in further. "I can't see her face, but the body matches with our mystery woman."
Cerian felt a smile creep across his face. "Now that is very interesting. And in civilian clothing no less. Where is this?"
"Paris," Mary answered immediately. "I've been keeping an eye on both of them. The woman never reveals her face, but Abigail clearly hasn't learned the same discretion."
"Where are they now?" Cerian demanded, looking at the current feed where they appeared to be in some kind of restaurant or coffee shop.
"Some café," Mary confirmed. "They've been there for at least an hour, according to the logs. This is the only lead I've found at the moment."
Cerian immediately rose to his feet and hit the buzzer that sent out a quick shriek throughout the house. "We've got a hit everyone! Gather up your equipment and head for the helicopter! Now! This is time sensitive!"
There were confirmations shouted from the various rooms and the rustle of gear being gather. Cerian fixed his gaze on Mary. "Don't let them out of your sight, camera or otherwise. I want to know everything that happens, no matter how small."
"Yes, sir!" She nodded. "I'm ready to go now, if that's fine."
"Get something to eat," he began, then paused. "Actually, hold off. I'll get you something when we get to Paris. But excellent work."
Her eyes focused on the screen, she nodded. "Can it be pizza? American pizza?"
"Yeah," he nodded absentmindedly, thinking of the best way to handle this. Ren, Baston and Olivia approached him, all geared up with packs of equipment.
"We're ready when you are, sir." Olivia said, speaking for them.
He raised an eyebrow. "Where's Darril?"
"Here!" Darril called out as he rushed out, stuffing a vial into his pack. "Apologies sir!"
He jabbed a finger at them. "Olivia, Ren. Both of you will don civilian attire and go with me into the field. Unless XCOM is moving into an abandoned area, we're staying incognito. Blend in with the crowd and keep in constant contact."
"Got it!" They both confirmed.
"Darril, Baston, both of you will stand by in case things go south," Cerian ordered. "Do not intervene unless ordered or your life is in danger. Got it?"
"Yes, sir!" They confirmed.
He grabbed his sniper rifle, finding solace in the comforting weight even though he'd probably not be using it. "Let's go!" He shouted over his shoulder as they marched behind him to the helicopter. "We need to intercept them before they leave the city."
Time to find out what XCOM was doing here.
Provided they actually were XCOM.
Cerian smiled as the helicopter lifted off. It had been years, and it felt good to be doing something important again.
Paris, Personne Ne Se Traduit
The club was surprisingly packed. Abby felt that she shouldn't have been quite as surprised as she was. Actually, it honestly made sense, with the alien attacks, she'd imagine that would drive more people to drink. Not to mention it was Paris and still had a large amount of tourists.
It worked to her advantage though, no one would question her if they noticed she wasn't a native. There was a pretty diverse crowd here, people of all races and nationalities. It also wasn't going to make their mission any easier.
"How are we going to find him in this?" Abby muttered to Ruth who stood beside her also watching the crowd.
"We're early, remember?" Ruth reminded her. "We're just going to get into position. Akello will let us know the moment he enters."
"Yep. Copy that," Akello commented in her earpiece. "He doesn't typically show up this early, though."
"Right," Abby responded as they went over to one of the tables as pounding music played, almost vibrating through the air. It was a fairly open place, squares of tables with dividers between them. An expansive bar that stretched throughout the area, a large dance floor and several game tables at the far ends. Thanks to Akello looking at the footage of previous nights Madvay had come, he would spend the majority of his time at the bar itself, occasionally chatting with women who came up to him.
The chaos wasn't as distracting as she was expecting. She could concentrate without too much trouble. She supposed after being in warzones, an overly loud club didn't hold her attention quite the same way. Fortunate, since she was going to need to be at the top of her game for this.
"Been awhile since I've been in a place like this," Ruth commented, laying her arms down on the table. "Past few months it's either been small bars or infiltration missions. Nothing this scale in a while."
"You like this?" Abby asked, looking over at her. Ruth had a contented smile on her face and playfulness in her eyes.
"I like the energy," Ruth said, resting his chin on her fist. "It's invigorating, especially when hunting. Not to mention the targets are always easier when drunk." She brightened. "Speaking of which, we should probably get something. Two women sitting alone without anything might draw the wrong attention."
Abby nodded, blending in was a good idea. "I'll go get something. You have a preference?"
"Orange juice," Ruth answered, looking over at the bar. "If they even have that. Don't worry too much, but no water or alcoholic."
"Got it," Abby reassured her and began making her way through the crowd of people. Some moved out of her way politely, others didn't, and some were just too drunk to notice. She just focused on getting to the bar. It was busy, but she managed to find a spot and sat down. Someone would come to her eventually and she wasn't in a hurry.
As she looked over the menu, she did feel kind of depressed hearing all the cheers, laughter and enjoyment around her. It was just so odd how things were so…normal. How could people just continue on when the world itself was threatened? It didn't seem fair or right that these people could move through life without any worry but other, better people died to grant them that luxury. Shouldn't they be doing something to help?
But wasn't that the point? People like her made the sacrifices and others like Liam, Luke and Mira gave their lives so people lived in peace. But it just seemed wrong for people to pretend it wasn't happening.
A quick rapping caught her attention as she refocused her eyes on one of the bartenders who was looking at her with amusement. "Can I help you, miss?" He asked with a smile, his French accent clearly pronounced. His brown hair was styled short, and his green eyes twinkled mischievously.
She cleared her throat. "Ah, yes. Sorry. You have orange juice?"
"Why, yes. Yes I do." Almost instantly he placed a bottle on the counter. It looked like some sort of foreign company, but she could tell for sure. She must have been looking at it a bit too long because the bartender smiled. "Don't worry. Non-alcoholic, it's our most popular brand here. Worth every euro."
"Ok," Abby shook her head to clear her thoughts. "Just sweet tea for me."
"You got it," he walked off and Abby looked at the bottle. Oddly enough, it appeared to be written in Hebrew. Or was it Russian? Whatever it was, she couldn't read the ingredients to see if the bartender was telling the truth. Something seemed off about him, especially since he'd somehow known what she was going to ask for.
"Here you go," he told her, setting a glass with tea in front of her. "Anything else?"
"Oh, this," Abby fished out the credit card she'd been given and handed it to him. He took it and walked back. Taking a sip of her tea, she had to admit it was pretty good. Just the right amount of sweetness.
"All done," he handed the card back. "Now, may I have the vial?"
She froze. The only vial she had contained the sedative and the only way someone could know about that was…
She narrowed her eyes and looked at the bartender much more closely. It was subtle, but whenever he blinked, sometimes his irises didn't quite match up. It seemed extremely difficult to believe but…"Kalonymous?"
"Well, at least I know my disguise works," he answered happily, lowering his voice as he returned to his Israeli accent she'd become familiar with. "I figured it was best to cut out the middleman. No need to risk compromising yourself. I'll add it to his drink myself."
Without breaking eye contact, Abby causally resting her palm on the table, setting the vial down. He'd pick it up without having to do something as obvious as handing it to him. "Have a good night," she told him. "Thanks for the drinks."
"Of course miss," Kalonymous answered, regaining his uncannily accurate French accent. "Enjoy!"
She took the drinks and walked back to where Ruth was seated, taking care not to spill her drink. Sliding into her seat she slid the orange juice over to an incredulous Ruth. "How the hell did you manage to get this?" Ruth demanded as she looked it over.
"You didn't tell me Kalonymous was posing as the bartender," Abby answered, taking a sip of her tea. "I guess he knew what we liked."
Her face lit up. "Ah, so he did manage to get in. Excellent."
Abby cocked her head. "You didn't think that would have been good to know?"
"That was best case scenario," Ruth explained. "Especially in a place like this. I figured he'd have been resigned to just watch the streets or something. We'll definitely know when Madvay shows up now."
"I'm wondering," Abby said, looking again at the partying crowd. "What are you going to be doing when I'm chatting him up?"
"Watching and listening," she answered with a small smile. "Depending on how well you're doing, I might just take up some of the offers that are sure to come if I move around a little."
Abby pinched the bridge of her nose. "You aren't actually going to have sex during the middle of this, are you?"
"Hey, only if you don't have issues," Ruth reassured her. "You take what you can get in this job. Besides, it's good practice and one of the few times I get to have fun."
"You have an interesting definition of the word fun," Abby noted, raising an eyebrow. "You're not going to kill them, are you?"
"God no," Ruth chuckled. "Trust me, I only go after men who pose no threat to me. If there is even a sliver of doubt he might be violent, I just avoid him. Dead bodies draw attention."
"How smart," Abby remarked sarcastically. "I would say good luck, but I don't think you need it."
"No," Ruth answered as she flashed a seductive smile at one of the men who passed. "I certainly do not."
Going into this loud, obnoxious place reminded Cerian why he'd chosen a nice quiet spot in Scotland beyond being essentially forced into retirement. How anyone could enjoy themselves with their heads physically pounding from the music was beyond him. He was probably getting too old for this.
"So this is the place?" He stated, more in hope than as an actual question.
"Yes, sir," Mary said into his earpiece. "Tracked them to here. I'll begin taking control of the cameras now."
Cerian hesitated. "Could you do something about the noise?"
He pointedly ignored the stifled chuckle from Olivia behind him. "I'll see what I can do," Mary promised, also sounded amused. "Although that might draw attention."
"Forget it," he sighed, looking back at Olivia and Ren. "Both of you enter after me. Move around, participate if you want. But I want eyes on them as soon as possible."
"Got it," Ren said, running a hand though his wavy brown hair. "And once we do?"
"Keep me updated and do not approach," Cerian ordered, turning toward the entrance. "You know the drill. There are probably Kidon agents with them, and they're likely in the crowd. Be on your guard."
"Will do," Olivia stated, biting her lower lip. "Though this is a club. We're both probably going to attract some people."
Yes, she was right. His age was going to be an advantage here in that he didn't have to worry about that issue. Younger agents were more vulnerable in that respect. Still, both of them were professionals and could handle the distractions. "I'll leave how to handle that up to you," he told them, eyeing them sharply. "But no trysts."
"Oh, fine," Ren sighed dramatically. Cerian smirked and began going into the club. A lot of people; that would both help and hinder them. Hinder by making it more difficult to find them. But when they did it would be much easier to blend into the crowd. It was large, so some walking around would be in order.
But first he had to plan. Sitting down in an empty chair, he looked into the crowd. Nothing so far, but he wouldn't expect many competent agents to be wandering around unless they were looking for someone. Pulling out his phone and pretending to use it to distract anyone possibly watching, he kept thinking.
Unless they were trying to get into restricted areas, they would be in the main areas. So that meant they were probably sitting down somewhere as well. At least the two women, excluding any additional people XCOM might, or might not have sent. "I'm inside," he muttered. "No signs yet. Moving to the bar."
"Would have been rather anti-climactic if you had," Ren commented. "I mean, when do missions go that smoothly?"
"I'm poised to enter now," Olivia informed him. "Taking the left side."
"I'll move to the dance floor," Ren said. "Anything new, Mary."
"Working," was the tense reply.
Cerian made his way through the throng of people, not seeing anything familiar in the crush of faces. The bar itself was very…sparkly, if that made any sense. No, immaculate was a better word. A polished wooden bar that shined when the lights hit it. He didn't look up at the flashing neon lights over at the dance floor. All it would accomplish was giving him a headache.
Taking a seat, he looked over the menu while he waited for service. Yep, about what he expected. While it had been a while since an op like this, he fell back into the routine so easily. "May I help you?" A bartender who was clearly a native Frenchman asked him, with a disarming smile.
"[Yes, an Adelscott and a bottle of water if it's alright,]" Cerian replied in French. "[Also a plastic cup if you don't mind.]"
The brown-haired bartender nodded quickly. "[Of course, sir. One moment.]" He went off while Cerian looked down the bar. Not that much unexpected here either, a few groups of people chatting. Some people sitting alone watching the TV's, sometimes cheering when the team they were rooting for scored. In fact, a few tables were also watching. Potentially a good stakeout point.
"[Here you go, sir.]" The bartender returned with his drinks. Cerian handed him some cash in payment.
"[Appreciated, keep the change.]" That might look suspicious otherwise, but it was only a few cents. Not really worth noting. Grabbing the drinks, he made for a more secluded corner just for the moment. Sitting down, he opened the small beer bottle and poured it into the cup he'd requested.
"Well this is interesting," Mary's voice came through.
"What is it?" Cerian asked quietly, making sure no one was watching.
"Someone else is already in the system, I can't assume control without them noticing."
Cerian pursed his lips. At least this proved there was something going down here. "Can you secure it" He asked as he poured water into the now empty beer bottle.
"Always up for a challenge," was the response. "I can put them on the defensive at the very least. But It'll tip them off we're here."
Damn it. "I don't want to spook them," Cerian said, putting the empty water bottle down. "Nothing else you can do?"
"I can try to trace it," Mary said slowly. "But if they're even remotely competent they'll be using proxies. Here, let me try piggybacking off of them. I won't have control but I'll see what they're looking at."
"Do it," he said, standing up with the beer bottle filled with water. "I'm moving around now."
They continued moving around for the better part of half an hour, sitting down for a few minutes, looking around, then moving again. He didn't see Olivia or Ren, which he counted as a good thing. He also didn't see anyone overly out of the ordinary or anyone who set off any internal alarms.
"I think I might have found them," Ren informed. "At least a woman matching Abigail's picture."
Cerian raised the bottle to his lips as a distraction. "Where?"
"About halfway down the bar, I believe table three on your left."
"Moving," he told them, standing up. Fingering a hidden camera, he began making his way towards the table. The crowd remained consistent so he was able to move without drawing more attention. Passing tables one, two…
Table three he glanced casually to his left. Two women were chatting intently with each other, looking into the crowd, though not currently on him. The blonde was definitely Abigail and she had a drink with some sort of dark liquid in it. Probably not alcohol. Tea? As he kept moving he quickly placing the camera down on the table opposite them without looking.
As for the other woman, she could be none other than Ruth Shira. The last alleged picture of her was about half a decade old, but the resemblance was uncanny. She was older, but it was definitely her. She also had some sort of bottle in her hand, what it was, he couldn't make out.
That was all he needed and he looked away and let the crowd consume him. "Camera placed," he muttered as he looked onto his phone displaying the video feed. "Confirmation on Abigail Gertrude and Ruth Shira. Be on guard, Kidon agents are in play. Exercise extreme caution."
"Damn," Olivia sighed. "Well, what now?"
"We watch and wait," Cerian ordered. "Find a spot and stay there for the moment. Watch people that don't move, guards, the bartenders. They could have people anywhere."
"Acknowledged," Ren stated.
"They're keeping most of the cameras on auto," Mary updated. "But they have one fixed on the entrance. I think they're waiting for someone."
"Then we wait," Cerian stated. "Don't screw this up now."
"We have confirmation of target entrance," Akello updated. "Following."
"Good," Ruth took a sip of her drink. "No hostiles spotted so far."
"That normal?" Abby asked, looking around.
"In this case, no," Ruth clarified. "This guy might not even be part of EXALT. He might just actually be a high ranking member on vacation, so I'd assume that wouldn't warrant special attention." The corners of her lips twitched. "That being said, if he is EXALT there is a suspicious lack of security."
"He's going to the bar now," Akello updated again. "Kalonymous is giving him his drink. The clock starts now."
"Showtime," Abby muttered. "I'll give him a few minutes, watch him for a bit."
"Good hunting," Ruth smiled. "Remember the plan."
"Of course," Abby nodded. It was simple, yet not set in stone. Things had to right, first.
Taking a deep breath, she stood and began walking over to the bar. Taking a seat on the corner, she got her first good look at Madvay. His appearance was much like the picture Zhang had shown them. Short styled brown hair, pale skin, blue eyes and a round face. He had some distinct Russian features such as a flatter chin and slightly protruding nose. Overall, he wasn't a bad looking man.
Resting her arms on the bar, she watched him passively, glad she could do that without it looking suspicious. If anyone saw her, they'd just assume she was checking him out, which she was. She was curious how long it would take him to notice, if he did. While she watched, she wrapped a strand of hair around her finger, toying with it. Men seemed to like that for some reason.
"Let me know if you want to get him a drink," Kalonymous said under his breath as he walked by, not looking at her.
She tilted her head forward in acknowledgement. That was a good plan, if he failed to notice her. She stirred her tea with a straw and flashed him a smiled as he looked over. He raised an eyebrow in surprise, but otherwise didn't react as he returned his attention to the TV. Must have thought it was a coincidence or thought it was for someone else.
So, that told her he wasn't used to attracting attention. Good to know, Ruth warned her about being too aggressive especially with shy men. Going from nothing to well, her, might make him uncomfortable if she went at it the wrong way. He apparently wasn't completely dense as he looked back to see her still looking over at him.
She gave a little wave, and he went from slight surprise to something resembling interest. He gave her a smile of his own, a rather nice one if she was being honest. She rapped the bar hoping that would get Kalonymous's attention. She didn't break eye contact as she sipped her drink.
"Good luck," Kalonymous told her softly as he walked past. Abby looked away and fished some Euros out of her pocket and laid it on the table to avoid drawing suspicion. Pushing herself off the seat, she figured if she made a roundabout route to Madvay, that would give Kalonymous enough time to deliver the drink, as well as say who it was from.
Pushing her way past some people, she quickly made something of a rectangular route down towards the entrance area, then right until she was roughly where Madvay would be, then headed back up to the bar. She didn't spot Ruth or anyone else along the way, though she couldn't help but wonder if that really meant no one was watching. After all, she was new at this.
Ah, perfect. A seat open just beside him to his right. He'd returned to primarily looking at the TV, but she noticed he glanced around every so often. Looking for her, a good sign. Another bottle was beside his glass, so Kalonymous must have given it to him. With a smoothness that surprised herself, she slid into the seat beside him.
"Enjoying the drink?" She asked casually as he noticed and turned to face her.
He raised the glass. "That I am, Madam," he answered, his voice heavy with a Russian accent, though not incomprehensible. "Though it is a surprise, I must say."
"Well, not an unpleasant one I hope," Abby teased, resting her arms on the table. "You looked rather bored."
"Heh, very true," he agreed, motioning at the TV. "Very bad game. Even if I have no stake in it," his lips curled up. "You seem to be much more interesting."
"The feeling is mutual," Abby chuckled, raising her glass. "Galia Pritchard."
"Madvay Vadim," he answered. "A great pleasure."
"So where are you from, Madvay," she asked, easing into another topic. As they were speaking a woman slid into a seat a few down from them and waved over Kalonymous. "Am I wrong to guess you're as much a native here as I?"
"Completely correct, Galia," he nodded. "I'm an…overseer, of the equivalent in a major Russian company. On a vacation right now, enjoying it before getting back into the chaos."
"Oh really?" She said, doing her best to overemphasize her interest. "I didn't know you were an important businessman."
She was somewhat amused when he straightened up a bit more at that. "Well, I don't know if important is the right word," he downplayed, pretending to sound modest. "But I know what I'm doing very well."
"Clearly," she agreed, nodding and let out a dramatic sigh. "I can only imagine how difficult it is to rise. I've dealt with the culture before and it's extremely competitive and stressful."
"You American, right?" He asked, appraising her. "What do you do?"
"I'm a surgeon," she explained. "Doing a brief stint here since the European countries have been hit hardest by the aliens."
He whistled. "Wow, I had no idea I was speaking with such a talented woman."
She allowed a blush and brushed her hair back. "Why thank you. It's nice to hear from such a charming gentleman."
He gave a mischievous smile. "I do my best."
Well, things were going surprisingly well and if this kept up, she'd have him taking her back to his place in no time. She'd distracted him so completely that he didn't notice how his drink was oddly refilled. Keep getting him drunk and he'd soon do whatever she said.
So, taking a sip of her tea, she smiled, nodded, and let him talk.
"She's laying it on rather thick," Olivia commented in Cerian's earpiece. She'd inserted herself a few chairs down from Abigail and whoever this Madvay was. Every so often, she'd update them on what was being said.
Cerian took a sip. "Mary, you got anything on this Madvay Vadim?"
"Yeah, but I'm not seeing any connection here," Mary sounded confused. "He's telling the truth. He's fairly high up in a Russian agricultural company. Mostly supplies farming equipment and is one of the largest in the country."
Had Kidon agents not been involved, Cerian would have been tempted to call this whole thing off and instead chalked it up to an XCOM equivalent of shore leave. Abby was clearly trying to…if not seduce him, at least lower his guard around her. By the looks of things, she was doing a good job.
Sitting at the bar, he found it curious that Madvay's drink was always getting refilled without prompting. Now, it was possible that he'd paid for unlimited drinks or something, but once he notice that, it wasn't hard to connect that it was always the same bartender who refilled his drink.
A possible agent? Perhaps, and if so he had to be very careful not to tip him off. He'd hate to get poisoned or something. "Mary," he finally said, looking down at his phone. "Can you get an ID on that bartender? Brown hair, seems to hang around our couple."
"I'm trying to ID everyone around there," Mary answered, frustrated. "But he's not turned his face towards the cameras. It's like he knows where they are."
Right. So until proven otherwise, he was mentally marking the bartender as a Kidon agent, or at least affiliated. "Careful of the bartender, Olivia," he cautioned. "I think he's with them."
He saw her faintly bob her head at nothing in particular. So, XCOM clearly wanted something from this man, and he had no idea what. Did they want his identity? His credentials? But even if that were the case, why target some Russian farming company? What possible relevance could that have to the war?
Involving clearly exceptional operatives only compounded his confusion. He would never use Kidon agents for anything other than important missions. So that either meant their commander was an idiot, had nothing but exceptional agents, or Cerian was simply not seeing the whole plan.
"No sign of Ruth," Ren updated, as he was currently moving through the club, trying to keep track of the Kidon agent. "I shouldn't have spooked her, but I can't find her."
Abigail and Madvay were still talking, and the bartender didn't seem alarmed, so he doubted she was spooked. Losing a tail was probably second nature to her, especially if even half of her profile was accurate. Even an amateur could lose a tail in this crowd.
"Wait! Spotted her!" Mary hissed. "Take out your earpiece boss! She's coming for you!"
Within seconds it was out, something he'd mastered years ago. Damn it. If she was coming to him, that didn't bode well. He heard, didn't see, someone slid into the seat beside him. Instead he took a sip of his drink.
"You're awfully quiet in a place like this," an accented voice said to him. Turning to his right, he looked at the woman speaking to him. Yep, it was her.
Damn.
She didn't look confrontational, smug or anything he was expecting. Oddly enough, she looked interested, though interested in the way a cat toys with a lizard. Her hair was loose and the black locks fell to her shoulders. Probably to hide the earpiece she had as well. Up close and personal, he could definitely tell she was older than she looked. The way she carried herself and the miniscule discolorations on her face clearly indicated makeup to perhaps cover up signs of age.
She was still a beautiful woman, but the prettiest ones were usually the most dangerous. Spies especially.
Play it cool. "Well, there's a reason for that," he gave a lopsided smile. "I've got no one to talk to."
"Well, I can rectify that if you want," Ruth offered, tilting her head to the side.
"If you wish," Cerian shrugged. "I certainly won't turn you down."
She chuckled. "An odd place to go if you want to be alone."
He raised an eyebrow. "And why do you assume I want to be alone?"
"You sit away from people, sipping that beer repeatedly," she answered. "You don't make eye contact and sometimes just stare off into the distance. The world just vanishes for you."
He was incredibly confused now. She seemed to have no clue who he was, which meant he'd done his job well. But at the same time, what were the chances she'd just want to…come up to him? Why was she talking to him like a regular person?
No, she had to be acting, just as he was. Putting some defensiveness in his voice, he answered. "You've been watching me."
"You caught my attention," she answered lazily, flipping some strands of hair behind her head. "Everyone else is so focused, so energetic, drunk, everyone has a reason for being here," she took a sip of her drink. "Except you it seems."
Hmm. Maybe he could see if he could get something out of her. "Well," he looked away. "I guess I don't really have a purpose here. Not a good one, anyway."
"Is there a bad reason?" She asked, her sincerity sounding remarkably genuine.
"For me?" He paused. "Tell me, Mrs…?"
"Sarah," she supplied.
"Sarah," he continued. "You paying any attention to the world at the moment?"
He was surprised, but he thought he saw a genuine flash of interest in her eyes. "The aliens? I'd be more concerned if people weren't paying attention."
"Yeah, the aliens," Cerian gave a sigh. "The stuff that's happening could drive anyone here." He took a perfectly timed sip of his 'beer.' "Especially if you were affected by it."
"Ah," she looked away. She actually seemed somewhat distracted now. "You lost someone."
Hmm. She actually seemed to be buying into his story, then again, he was able to give a convincing performance. He slumped his shoulders. "Everyone, pretty much," he admitted, putting suppressed pain in his voice. "Wife, children, friends. Hamburg, you know."
"I know," she nodded solemnly. "I lost friends there too."
Oddly enough, Cerian believed her there. In their line of work losing friends was not unexpected, though he doubted it was from the Hamburg attack. "I mean, it wasn't solely Hamburg," he amended. "You heard of the Berlin Massacre? The attacks in Cologne? My family was too active for their own good."
She looked away and he noted her subtly clutch her drink a bit tighter. "I'm sorry," she said. It actually sounded like she meant it. "I hope your family will be avenged one day."
"By my hand, if possible," Cerian added, taking another sip. "I enlisted."
Ruth looked over at him, frowning. "You did?"
"Yep," he gave a sigh. "I ship out tomorrow. Trying not to think about what I got myself into. But I'm not going to sit on the sidelines and have others fight on my behalf."
She appraised him, almost not sure what to think. "Admirable," she finally said. "It's sad more aren't like you."
He gave her a wan smile. "Hey, if the aliens win, I'd rather die fighting to my last breath than live under their rule."
"Well," Ruth pushed herself off. "I wish you well. Good luck…"
"Trent," he supplied.
"Trent," she nodded. "Thank you for your service." With that she formed her right hand into a fist and placed it over her chest, then walked away.
After he insured she was gone, he picked up the earpiece.
What the hell had happened?
That entire exchange had been incredibly bizarre. He still didn't know why she'd come up to him in the first place, but by the end it'd seemed that they were both meaning what they said. He'd convinced her of his story and she'd seemed sincere in wishing him well.
He couldn't help but think he'd just talked himself out of something. What that was, he had no clue.
Time to see how things were progressing.
Her time was running out and the more drunk he became, the more chance he was going to pass out on her. He'd turned out to be surprisingly talkative after an hour or so and was very descriptive of what he did. So she plied him with questions, how many people worked there, what did they do? Any suspicious people? How much security?
He'd more or less answered each of the questions in some way, though he was quickly becoming less coherent. Time to wrap this up. "I don't think we should continue this here," she told him sweetly. "I think we've talked enough about your job."
"I couldn't agree more," he answered, slightly swinging around. He still wasn't completely slurring his speech which was a testament to how well he held up after…what was it? Four, five drinks? "My place?"
"Of course," she leaned in, grinning. "Just where else?"
He grinned and grabbed her hand, taking some initiative for once. She'd wondered if he'd picked up on her subtle flirting and it seemed he had to some degree.
She motioned to the door. "Lead the way," he shakily stood up, and she grabbed him to steady him.
"You know," he stumbled. "I think I might not be in the best shape to drive," he gave a lopsided grin. "I'd hate to crash you."
Well, well. A responsible driver at that. She was wondering how to bring that up. It was almost a shame she was using him; he genuinely seemed like a decent guy.
"Don't worry," she reassured him. "I'll drive."
"Right," he scowled as she fished for the keys in his pocket. His face brightened. "Here!" he dropped them in her hand and once again steady, began walking towards his car.
Well this was interesting. On his keychain was the his company ID. Well that was easy, now to see what else was at his house. They finally arrived at his car, a small red model she'd never seen before. It didn't matter, they both got in and she started the car.
"Where to?" She asked after buckling up, looking over to him. "Sadly, I don't know where you live yet."
"Oh, right," he blinked several times, his pupils dilating rapidly. Hmm. The sedative was going to take effect very soon. But he recalled it and told her the address.
"Any kind of gate code?" She asked before he passed out completely, not that it would be a huge obstacle, but it would waste time.
"Nope," he got out, blinking rapidly. "All clear…"
She began driving and after a few minutes looked over at him. "You alright?" she asked, not quite able to keep the smugness out of her voice.
"Fine," he managed, barely able to keep his eyes open. "Just…really…tired…"
"Don't worry," she reassured him. "It will all be over soon."
"What?" He asked, sounding confused.
"We'll be home soon," she amended, hoping he didn't remember her previous sentence. She waited for a response but after a few minutes, she looked over to see him with his eyes closed and his mouth parted slightly.
Time to give a quick test. Pulling over, she took out the small knife she'd been carrying and made a shallow cut along his arm. Nothing, not a single reaction. He was completely out. She let out a sigh of relief. "Akello, you there?"
"Loud and clear, Abby. Nice work."
She flushed with pride. "Thanks, but since he's out, I need directions."
"Right on it. I'll meet you there."
She relayed the directions and it wasn't far away at all. About twenty minutes later, she pulled into a fairly nice hotel and pulled into the parking lot. His room was one that could be accessed from the outside, so they didn't need to worry about them being spotted carrying his unconscious body into the room.
"Akello, I'm here." She informed looking around. If there were security cameras, that could pose an issue.
"I've set the cameras on a loop," Akello told her. "Look to your right." Abby complied and saw Akello approaching her, laptop in hand, smiling. Getting out of the car, Abby approached her.
"Nice job," Abby complimented. "That didn't take long at all."
The young African snorted. "I could do this with my eyes closed. You didn't do so bad yourself."
"Well, here's your first piece," Abby handed her the ID. "He's in room 401, so I'd appreciate it if you opened it. He's going to be heavy enough as it is."
Akello nodded and Abby opened the passenger side door and after some tugging, slung Madvay's body over her shoulders. Dragging might have been quicker, but this was easier. Still, he wasn't exactly a feather.
It wasn't a big room, fortunately, and she unceremoniously tossed him onto the bed. Akello was already by Madvay's desktop computer. She quickly went through his pockets, found his wallet and set that to the side. There wasn't much else of interest, so she began stripping his clothes off.
Biting her lip, Akello looked over and her eyes widened. "What are you doing?" She asked incredulously.
"Setting a scene," Abby explained as she worked. "He wakes up naked and assumes we have sex. Matches up with his memories from this night, so he doesn't think anything's wrong. Combined with his hangover, he'll just assume it happened and he can't remember it."
"Are you sure that will work?" Akello asked, typing on the computer. "I mean, I'd think that'd be the one thing you don't forget. Especially with you mysteriously gone."
Finished, Abby stood up and tossed his clothes haphazardly around the room. "He's not going to wake up for another eight hours. He'll understand why I left, especially since I'll leave a message telling I was called into work. Since I told him I'm a surgeon, he'll believe that."
"Clever," Akello commented. "Well, in the meantime, I'll enjoy going through his files. A lot of boring stuff, but we can get a lot from these."
"Got this too," Abby held up the wallet. "Might be something interesting here."
Akello's eyes lit up. "Give that here," she asked and Abby complied. Pulling out some sort of rectangular box, she began sliding the cards into it which were ejected from the other end.
"What is that?" Abby asked.
"Takes digital images and imprints of cards," Akello explained as she put a hard drive into her pack. "We can then alter the images or just create new, perfect copies. Perfect for forging and stealing identities."
"Neat." Once she was done, Abby placed the wallet and keys into his pants pocket, essentially leaving it as she found it. "You got what you needed?"
"Yep," Akello shut down her laptop and looked up. "A successful mission, I'd say."
Abby let out a sigh of relief. "Went better than I expected, honestly."
"Seriously," Akello agreed. "Looks like no one will ever know we were here."
"Well, I'm not complaining," Abby shrugged. "I guess our next stop is Russia."
"To Russia we go," Akello repeated and they both walked out to regroup with the rest of the team.
Cerian, with Rey and Olivia behind him arrived at the meeting point. They'd designated a low-budget hotel where people didn't ask too many questions. Cerian knocked on the door. "We're here."
"Passcode?" Baston asked through the door.
Very funny. He would have given some sarcastic answer had he not been concerned about attracting attention. "Open the door. Now."
"Fine," there was a click and Baston opened the door. Him and Darril had assault rifles in their hands in the unlikely event they were discovered. All three of them quickly entered the room and shut the door.
"Good job, everyone," Cerian said as he locked the door and turned to face them. Mary was sitting barefoot and cross-legged on the bed, her laptop resting on her legs. Several boxes of pizza were on the bed and she currently was eating a piece.
"That went pretty smoothly," Olivia said, slumping down into a chair and yawning. "Though I still don't have a clue what they were after."
"Well, they're clearly interested in the company," Cerian stated, pursing his lips. "But why is definitely the biggest question right now. I think we'll find more concrete answers if we keep tracking them."
"You get an image of that bartender?" Ren asked as he started eating a piece of pizza.
"No," Cerian sighed. "And I certainly wasn't going to risk it after Ruth showed up. I can describe him, but I'm not sure how much good it'll do. He's probably not on any systems if he is a Kidon agent, anyway."
"Speaking of which," Mary raised her half-eaten slice of pizza. "What the hell was that with Ruth?"
"I have no idea," he answered honestly, sitting down at the end of the bed. "It was bizarre. I don't think she had any idea who I was."
"Odd," Mary shrugged. "Whatever, you completely played her. Well done."
They all burst into a half-sarcastic round of applause. "Yeah, good for you," Olivia commented. "At least you didn't have to listen to two and a half hours of absolutely nothing."
"Oh, come on," Ren chided. "You didn't find it a little funny listening to her obviously sweet-talking him? I've got to steal some of those lines. She wasn't half-bad."
"I think we should also figure out why an XCOM soldier is involved in an operation like this," Cerian reminded them. "This was an op clearly designed by a professional. As in an Intelligence professional. XCOM might have something of an intelligence division now."
"And they didn't tell the Council," Darril shook his head. "Wow."
Olivia snorted. "Genius if you ask me. Why reveal such an asset?"
"We'll sort out XCOM's Intelligence division, or lack thereof later," Cerian interrupted, raising a hand. "Mary, you know where they're going?"
"Well, the car they're using seems to be heading to an airport," Mary answered. "And if I had to guess they're going to Russia. Specifically where that company is located."
"Then we have our next destination," Cerian stated. "Mary, keep track and I want the rest of you looking through any intel we have on this company. Personnel, security, all of it. Understand?"
"Yes, sir!" They affirmed.
"Take a few minutes to recover," he ordered, leaning back. "Then we get to work."
