Elsa Davian-Hanaway was not a contentious woman. She preferred to stay in the shadows, working towards her goals unnoticed. She was the type of person that melted into the background, the kind that people never suspected. Now, if that quick little description told you that she was the puppet master type, you'd be mistaken. In truth, she was a bad guy. Kind of. She didn't want to be the bad guy, she didn't want to be the villain that gets what they deserve at the end of the movie. She wanted out, there was no denying that, but she had brought this upon herself. I'm the bad guy was a thought that rattled through her brain as she rounded the corner. It was a though she tried to ignore but no no avail. She was fifty-two but you'd be mistaken for thinking she was in her forties; her greying hair had been dyed back to it's natural brown and her thin face showed no signs of age. She made an effort to keep fit, as it was highly beneficial for a woman in her profession. She had defined cheekbones and a strong chin, her blue eyes glinting in the light as her target walked closer.

Discreetly, she pulled her pistol out from her coat and aimed it at the man, before plugging three rounds onto him. He grunted and made a rasping sound as he fell to his knees, his briefcase clattering to the floor. Elsa bit her lip as she leaned down to prevent him from collapsing and pulled the trigger twice more.

'Skkkk! Skkkk!' went the gun, the silencer suppressing the noise. Elsa felt the man go still. She let go of his and holstered the gun as he collapsed onto the floor. She quickly picked up the case and walked off, bowing her head.

This was it.

This was her way out.

The first few weeks back in Gravity Falls had been hard. Whilst Mabel had kept worrying that California was going to get bombed, Dipper had been worried about other things. Namely: why? Why would Germany or Russia (it didn't matter really) attack intelligence agencies all across the globe? It didn't make sense, there was no reason or logic behind the move. This was the question that Dipper rolled around in his head as he walked out of the Gravity Falls high school. Mabel was chattering on about something and he was pretending to listen. School was so much different in the Falls. The way it worked was that kids from all over Oregon came but most didn't live in the Falls. He remembered back to when Wendy told him that all the friend groups had been shuffled around because the vast majority of people didn't know what happened. What had surprised him the most however, was the people. Everyone respected the members of the zodiac (even Gideon to an extent) but the twins more than anyone. Even the people that didn't know why. He had friends now: Wendy and co, Pacifica and Gideon oddly enough (who was very easy to talk to about Bill and being tortured by him as he, Dipper and Ford were the only ones to go through it. He'd been keeping his distance from Mabel however).

As the twins were walking down Main Street, they saw a house surrounded by police tape that read 'crime scene: do not cross.' Mabel frowned as Sheriff Blubs and Deputy Durland walked out.

"Hey!" Blubs shouted. "Could you come 'ere for a minute?"

"Woo-wee!" squealed Durland. "We're getting' 'ta meet the town heroes! Can I have 'yer autograph!"

"Maybe later," Mabel answered.

Dipper asked, "what do you need us for?"

"See for yourselves." Blubs beckoned them into the building.

"Sweet sally, it smells like Dipper's old laundry in here."

"Mabel." Dipper gave his sister a stern look. "Who's house is this?"

"Tad Strange's," Durland replied.

That was when Dipper noticed the corpse lying on the floor. Tad's eye sockets were empty, surrounded by a ring of dust. His body was caked in blood, his shirt torn and stained.

"Ugh." Mabel held her nose.

"We need ya'll to figure out who killed him," Blubs said. "We think it was of supernatural causes."

"Dipper, don't you see?" Mabel pulled Dipper close. "This is like with Wax Stan! What if we're reliving our fir – oh."

"That wouldn't be a good thing Mabel. Remember B—"

"NEVER MIND ALL THAT!"

Stan and Ford walked into the mayor's office with a quick pace. Stan was wearing his 'Mr Mystery Senior' outfit, which consisted of a black double-breasted suit with grey pinstripes and a burgundy necktie. Ford was dressed in his usual attire, minus the belt. Mayor Tyler was sitting at his desk with his trademark smile plastered across his face when the Stan twins each took a seat. The supernatural ambassador was standing next to the mayor in a formal system with his arms behind his back.

"You wanted to talk to us?" Stan inquired.

Tyler replied, "yes, this is Mr Draco Brantley, you've already been introduced."

"Never caught his name," Ford chuckled.

"Mr Brantley, if you would inform the Mr Pineses of the situation please."

Brantley pulled what looked to be a TV remote out of his jacket and pressed a button. A projector overhead whirred to life and a map of America appeared on the wall. It zoomed in on an airport, before cutting to security footage and zooming in one last time on a man with shoulder length brown hair and wearing a pair of aviator sunglasses. A profile appeared next to him that read 'Anton Ivanov.'

"Who is he?" Stan asked.

"He's dead." The word 'deceased' appeared over his image. "As of 2006. This footage was taken two weeks ago. He was a CIA agent, under a false identity. He was also seen leaving Langley Brimstone minutes before the bombs went off."

Ford stood up and pointed at the Russian's hand. "What's that?"

"It's a ring."

"I know that. There's a symbol on it."

"Ah, yes," Brantley smiled. "We've never seen it before."

Mayor Tyler then said, "we think he's part of a shadow organisation that knows of the supernatural."

"Let me guess," Stan said as Ford sat down. "You want us to find 'im."

"We also need your help in solvin' the murder of Tad Strange. In fact, Dipper and Mabel are looking into it right now."

"You want us to split up?" Ford asked.

"That'd be grand." Tyler said. "Not ideal mind you, but grand."

Stan smiled. "We'll think about it."

Wendy licked her finger and flipped a page on her magazine as both sets of twins debated what to do. Personally, she wanted to stay. Soos and Melody needed her help and she wasn't all that interested in going to Russia. There was also something in the back of her mind that nagged at her, told her that she needed to be here. She brushed it aside.

"So it's settled then," Ford said. "Dipper will come to the Soviet Union with me and we'll find some others to come too. The rest of you stay here and solve the murder.

"It's not the Soviet Union anymore Sixer."

"I'll call Fiddleford," Ford ignored his brother.

Dipper said, "I can ask Soos," as he walked out.

Elsa walked up to the familiar door and chapped on it. Two Brock – Lesnar looking men walked out dressed in black suits and ties. They patted her down, removing her gun and a few daggers from her coat. She walked into the room and looked around. The walls were painted white and the floors were wooded. A hardwood desk sat in the centre of the room with nothing on it but a few pens and a book. The man sitting behind it wore a silver suit jacket with a black shirt and no tie. His face was obscured in shadow, but a glare of light reflected off of his reading glasses. Gently, he pulled them off and dropped them into a pocket on the inside of his coat. Elsa placed the briefcase on the dest and stood back.

The man unlocked the clasps and took a quick glance inside, before shutting it and handing it to a henchman. "All is forgiven," he said in a deep and posh British accent.

"What do you need the device for?" Elsa asked, referring to the contents of the case. She spoke in her own sharp English accent, rarely stumbling over her words and using strong enunciation.

"That is of no concern to you, my love."

"You don't love me."

"I married you, didn't I?"

Elsa scowled as she walked out of the room. This is the only way, she told herself.

Dipper was pottering around the Mystery Shack about two hours after he'd agreed to go on the trip. He was in the attic packing when his phone rang. He picked it up after the thirty ring and said, "hi Mum."

"Hello Dipper," Helen's voice had an audible smile. "How are you?"

"Pretty good. Oh! You'll never believe this but—"

"Dipper, honey, I think I'll believe anything at this point."

"Oh. It's not even that crazy. Someone got murdered!"

"Well this has gotten very morbid, who was it?"

"Tad Strange," Dipper said as he hung off of his bed upside down. "We were asked to investigate it too!"

"Those police officers are hopeless, aren't they?"

"Well, I'm not going to. Mabel is. I'm going to Russia!"

"Why?"

"Secret cult type of deal. We think they started the war." He rubbed his temples as he got up, holding the phone in his shoulder.

"Well, I hope that goes well. Could you pass me over to Mabel please?"

"Yeah, sure," Dipper replied. "Mabel, Mum wants to talk to you! Mabel?" He looked around in confusion. "Just a sec. Grunkle Stan, where's Mabel?"

Stan shouted from the kitchen, "she went to a friend's house. Cain-y and Grend-o or somepin' like that."

"She's at a friend's house," he said into the phone.

"Oh, okay. I actually have to go, so tell her I'll call her later."

"'Kay."

"Bye."

Mabel was in sweater town, barely aware of Candy and Grenda hugging her. Dipper was getting to do cool spy stuff whilst she stayed here. She didn't even want to go to Russia, she wanted to stay in the Falls. But what bothered her was that her and Dipper had never really been apart before. This was a big step forwards. Or backwards. She didn't even know anymore. There had been a nagging feeling in the back of her mind after Dipper had gotten possessed. At he time where he was always on edge, talking to people even less than usual (he managed to go a whole week without speaking at all) and wandering around the Shack like a lost soul. No one had known what to say to him, but when he'd began to spend less time with her. They were closer after Gravity Falls, but they did more things separately. He was going to go to Russia, get himself hurt or worse and then take Ford's apprenticeship. He'd already told her that he was going to take it after he'd finished high school, and she'd made her peace with that. But she didn't want to be alone. After all, what was the point in doing anything without her twin by her side?

Ford and Dipper walked into the Argon's cargo bay, where several people were milling about. Soos was chatting to Melody while unpacking, McGucket was unloading lots of gear, Stan was fiddling with some wires and Mabel was standing the middle of it all, looking out of place. Dipper was about to ask her what was wrong when Ford pulled a pair of sturdy-looking shoes out from his bag and handed them to him. I can talk to Mabel in a minute, he thought. "Why are you giving me a pair of shoes?"

Ford replied, "just put them on, I'll show you in a minute." He turned to see Wendy walking up the ramp.

"You wanted to talk to me Dr Pines?" she asked.

"Please, call me Ford," he smiled and started rummaging around a large pile of weapons. "But yes, I did. Me and Fiddleford made you this." He held up a matt-black shotgun with an axe head under the barrel. "You like it?" he asked, puzzled by Wendy's eyes widening to the size of footballs.

"Yes," she said matter-of-factly. "Yes I do."

"It's just like all the other laser guns, except shotgun style. And with an axe." Ford handed the weapon to the still starstruck teen. "It's okay to give teenagers weapons in this dimension right?" The twins said yes and Stanley said yes but they might be—"

"Yes. Definitely. Absolutely. What dimension do you think we live in, Pansy-69?" she chuckled, before thinking to herself, it's funny because it's true.

"What's so funny about that number?"

"Ask Dipper."

"Grunkle Ford… what do these do again?" Dipper asked, appearing behind the old scientist.

"Do your best impression of a German aristocrat's formal greeting."

Dipper hesitated for a moment, before pointing his right arm up at an angle and placing his left index finger over his top lip.

"No, Dipper," Ford sighed as Wendy cackled in the background. He stood up to his full height (which was a tad less than when the two had first met) and smacked his heels together, causing a small silver blade to appear out of his left foot.

"Whoa!" Dipper said astonishment, before copying his uncle. "How do I get it back in?"

"Well, it's coated with one of the fastest acting sedative's on the planet, so very carefully." Ford pushed his foot against the wall and the knife slid back in. "I was going to use a neurotoxin, but I decided on the less… lethal solution."

"Yeah," Dipper mumbled, remembering the last (and only) time he had killed someone. "Thanks." He looked over his shoulder as he walked towards Mabel.

"Are you alright?" He asked.

Mabel quickly plastered on a fake smile and said, "yeah, I'm fine."

"You don't look it. You look like you want to die."

"Don't be silly," Mabel gave her brother a playful shove. "I'm fine!"

"Is this because you don't want me to go?"

"I already told you Dippin-dot." She leaned in closer. "I'm fine!"

"… okay, call me whenever you want to talk about what's bothering you. As long as we're not on a mission, I'll pick up. If we have nightmares we call each other, okay?"

Mabel nodded. "When do you have to go?"

"Now actually." Dipper quickly wrapped her in an – admittedly unexpected but rather nice – sibling hug.

"I'll miss you Mason."

"Well, now you ruined it." Dipper looked at the expression on his sister's face. "I'm just kidding. But don't call me that. I'll miss you too."

Elsa lay in her luxurious bed thinking. Muffled screams could be heard echoing through the base's halls as she tried and failed to get some sleep. She'd always been a night-owl. Her horrid husband lay next to her, facing away. He was out like a log. You could just kill him here and now and be done with it, she thought, before berating herself, don't. It won't change anything. Getting that case was step one, you're playing the long game here. She needed to find out more about his plans. She knew full well what was in that case, but not what he would use it for. She hated him. She hated him so, so much. She hated this secret lair, she hated the whole operation. But more than anything else, she hated herself for marrying him.

"So how do we find 'im?" McGucket asked as he paced around the room.

"We know he's going to check into the Pentahotel tonight and that he's arriving through the Pushkin International airport," Ford explained. "We need to intercept him."

"I have an idea." Soos said. "And it definitely isn't from an anime."

Ford stood in the Pushkin international airport tapping his foot. He held up a sign that read 'Anton Ivanov' and was dressed in a formal outfit. Soos' plan was… risky, to say the least and that was being kind. He pondered the notion for a a few moments before Ivanov approached him.

"Dipper, Ford's got him," Soos said over the radio after seeing through Ford's glasses.

McGucket then added, "about fifteen minutes 'ta door knock."

Ford led his target into his stolen cab and pressed on the accelerator, causing the car to start moving. They driver through Moscow for a few minutes, before arriving at the hotel.

"Five minutes to door knock," McGucket said.

"Thank you." Dipper's sarcasm was audible as he steadied himself.

"Спасибо," Ivanov said.

The words 'thank you' appeared on Ford's glasses. He nodded and smiled.

McGucket glanced back the laptop. "3 minutes to door knock."

"That's very helpful Fiddleford."

"Two – no, one – he's right outside. Get ready."

Dipper was standing around the corner when he heard the door open, the shut a few seconds later. He quickly leapt out and struck the Russian in the face with his cybernetic hand, who helped in surprise (and pain). Without missing a beat, he clicked his heels together and made a small incision on Ivanov's arm, who slowly began to turn blue before passing out. The blue hue drained from his skin soon after. "I got him," Dipper said into his earpiece.