Chapter 13: Schemes

The night had him tossing around in his bed, frightening nightmares alternating with long sleepless phases, until he finally gave up and got out of bed, staring out of the window, pacing the tiny room, drinking tea. More than ever, he missed Sam, his sheer presence and energy, the distraction his body offered.

Leaving the house early for a new day full of negotiations, and probably emotional challenges, he scanned the area briefly. No car. Which proves exactly nothing...or everything. Or that I´m simply going nuts. Maybe I`m not cut out for this kind of life...

Alistair waved him over as soon as he stepped into the small room adjacent to the conference hall. He pulled him into the niche at one of the large windows.

„Anything new so far?"

Castiel wondered how on earth he should have gathered any new information from the Japanese delegations overnight. The only explanation he could think of would be him sleeping with one of their secretaries...or...could it be Alistair had somehow found out Cas was gay? Had the loaded looks Dean and he had exchanged not gone as unnoticed as he´d believed? He decided to play it cool.

„No?", he answered, a hint of annoyance in his cold voice. It worked. Alistair pulled back immediately. Watch and learn from the Winchesters, Cas thought.

His boss ran a hand over his thin hair in a slightly distressed gesture. „I´m sorry, Castiel, that was ... it´s just that Washington puts us under a lot of pressure here, and the damn CIA isn´t really helping with their vague hints and accusations without providing any proof...we have to play it well today, or the whole treaty goes down the drain." He took off his gold rimmed glasses and rubbed his eyes. „I don´t even want to imagine the badlam that would cause. Not to mention the effect on our carreers." Castiel watched him closely. The man looked stressed...no, not only stressed. He looked ...freaked out.

„Has something happened I don´t know of? Or did the CIA bring some new information on ..one of the parties involved?" He searched the other man´s face for signs – ah. He´d hit base. Alistair scanned the room nervously, then he bent down and lowered his voice to a conspiratorial murmur. „They sent a file – well, a sheet full of rumours, you can´t even call it a `file´- over, on this Winchester guy. Some little birdie obviously told them he could be involved with Yakuza somehow. I mean, the whole company he´s working for. So far, they have jack squat on either the man, or the Kuro Tora company...heck, it´s even too clean to be true. Can be they don´t even know themselves who pulls the strings in the background, can be Winchester is an innocent businessman looking for a carreer here in Japan. But honestly – the guy gives me goosebumps. And not the good type." He blushed a little. „I always get the feeling there´s an ice cold business man behind the pretty surface. Plus, the ambassador tells me Winchester is a known member of one of the sword fight clubs here. I mean, who in their right mind would go wielding a SWORD for God´s sake when we have nukes to solve our problems now!"

Cas was surprised once more by the sheer ignorance Western people, and especially his fellow Americans, showed where Japanese culture was concerned.

„I understand Iaido fighters don´t plan on going to war with their swords in hand in the immediate future", he said coolly, eyebrows raised. „That´s not what this is about. It´s a form of art, of body control and mastery of your spirit. You wouldn´t derise our boxers for fighting with their fists when there are machine guns to kill your opponent much more effectively, would you?"

Alistair sensed his annoyance, and rowed back. He raised his hands in a calming gesture.

„Yeah, I get that, sorry. I know you are really into this Japanese culture and everything...anyway. This Winchester. Apparently he fights pretty damn well with one of those scarily sharp samurai swords, and it makes me kind of nervous. And that´s to say without even taking into account the possible Yakuza connection." He looked up again, watching the room carefully. When he bowed down again, his voice was reduced to a whisper. „Even the possibility scares the sh- scares me to death, I mean, Yakuza? They are one bunch of crazy cold bastards, and in comparison to them, our Mafia mob looks like a group of sad old wannabes in a retirement home swapping stories of the good old 30s."

Castiel´s mind raced. So... the CIA had got wind of the Yakuza connection. That could complicate things for Sam and him immensely. He wondered who the „little birdie" might be... Some concerned citizen? I hardly think so...and what a coincidence, right now, when the negotiations go into a critical phase?

Most likely, it was someone from inside Yakuza...someone aspiring to take Dean´s place in hierarchy once the rival was disposed of – and using the CIA to clear the path? Perfect strategy, Cas thought, make your enemies fight against each other, watch them from a safe distance, and step in to collect your reward when they´re both out of the way.

He needed to contact Sam. If the CIA started sniffing around...if they stumbled over Sam, for example...he remembered the suspicious car.

Dammit. They were so close – and things were already complicated enough. He had no intention of getting caught by the CIA for trying to do the right thing for once.

„Novak? Are you even listening?"

Alistair. Cas looked up, trying to give his face this threateningly blank expression Dean used to unnerve the Americans. As before, it worked. Alistair stammered.

„Ah, no, sorry, obviously you were – so, do you think you can do it? Get near him or one of his entourage?"

Ah. I´m the hooker/spy now after all? Didn´t take them long.

He watched the people in the room get ready for the next round of negotiations, without answering, and let Alistair stew.

„I – I will give you some excuse, a task, a question, anything that works as a cover. In fact, the CIA contact suggested we make you some sort of private mediator – third party, type, you know? Someone not involved directly, but well informed. You would be playing...Switzerland, that´s how they put it."

Cas eyed his boss. Unbelievable. How had he come from being the undespensible, but barely remembered staff member to playing Mata Hari?

He gave Alistair another cool look. „I´ll do it."

Alistair seemed surprised. „You will? Wow, that´s...I didn´t expect you to take this risk. Honestly, I – if Winchester or Kuro Tora or both ARE Yakuza, this could become really, really dangerous. So if you – as you´re willing to play this part, you´ll certainly get some sort of protection by the CIA. They´ll send surveillance, some sort of listening device -"

„Ah." Cas raised his hand to stop his babbling boss.

„I haven´t told you my conditions yet." Alistair´s face fell slightly. „Conditions...of course. You´ll get paid, obviously, and..."

Cas huffed. „I don´t talk about money. You can pay me extra for it of course, but that´s not what I meant. I´m doing this on the condition that the CIA, or ANY other US organisation, stays out of the game. Completely. I see one suspicious man, or car, or find a bug ANYWHERE near my place, my body, or Winchester, I´m out. And I´m inclined to sell you out on the man in case I do. If I have to switch sides to save my skin, I´m ready to do it." You should get an award for this, he thought. Who´d have thought drama class in High School would pay out like that...

Alistair was flabberghasted. „Ahem..of course, of course, if that´s your conditions..I´ll inform the contact. I´ll make sure he understands the..urgency of your request."

Castiel nodded briefly. „I do it my way, or I don´t do it. Your choice. But honestly", he couldn´t help adding, „It seems like the US side is pretty desperate if you are coming to someone like ME to do this kind of work. I mean – I´m the least qualified person for it, you should think."

Alistair shook his head. „No, that´s not true. You are highly qualified for it. And, what´s more, you´re absolutely unsuspicious. Squeaky clean, so to speak. The perfect disguise, right?"

Cas shrugged. „I´ll take that as a compliment, although I´m not sure I feel flattered. So – what do I do? What´s the task?"

But in this moment, the bell was calling all partecipants into the larger room;

negotiations started again.

Alistair bowed down once more. „I´ll give you everything I have during the next break. It´s not much I´m afraid...they seem to count on your intuition." Then he straightened up, and walked out of the room, Cas following him slowly.

Now that – THAT was a new turn of events he hadn´t expected. Intuition... good luck with that, he thought. He´d only accepted the offer to get the CIA off their backs. He could only hope they would stick to his conditions, and leave him (and Sam, and Dean), alone.

And if they wanted to pay him for it – no objections there. They´d need money if ..when...once they´d finished their mission. Vanishing had its price. Especially when Yakuza, CIA, and hell only knew who else would be the ones looking for them.

In the end, Alistair didn´t even have to pull some scheme out of the blue. Three hours into the day, negotiations were stuck – no, worse, they were only one step away from having everyone leave in frustration. The Japanese delegations had gathered for half an hour in private, and the US part had worked out possible answers to worst case scenarios. Cas had sensed the Japanese partecipants´ anger, and he couldn´t blame them.

When everyone walked back into the conference room, Alistair gave him a folder with a single sheet of paper in it, nodding meaningfully; Cas had barely time to read it before the bell rang, and they were back in the ring.

Once more, it was Dean who got up to speak for the Japanese side. He´s pale, Cas thought. And he looks tired...exhausted, actually. Seems I´m not the only one who hasn´t slept much lately.

Dean practically set an ultimatum – either the US side showed them „any sign they were still interested in fair negotiations with positive effects for both sides", or the Japanese delegations would stop the whole process, and leave.

Cas watched Alistair, the ambassador, and Dean leave the room. They were back ten minutes later. Alistair looked like the cat in front of the cream pot, and nodded briefly in his direction; Cas´s eyes followed Dean through the room. He was talking to his colleagues. Alistair approached him, barely suppressing a grin.

„You won´t believe it...He ASKED for a mediator. They´ve come up with exactly the idea we had, can you believe that? And when I suggested you - he seemed hesitant at first, and doubted if you were really to be considered neutral ground. But...well, I could ensure him of your Switzerland status. So – long story short, he wants to meet you straight after we´re finished here, and ...I guess then it´s in your hands. Have you read the sheet I gave you?"

Cas huffed. „I have."

„Not much to go with, huh?" Alistair had the decency to look worried.

„Good luck, Castiel. We depend on a good outcome of...all of this. It´s a milestone...a milestone", he repeated, to himself, nodding wisely. „But I trust you. We all do...we count on you, Castiel. Your country..."

Cas was glad that in that moment Dean appeared behind his boss.

„Mr. McGee", a sharp nod. „Mr. ...Novak?" Green eyes swallowed Cas, cool, yes, but only on the surface...something was boiling deep in them, a fire Cas could already feel on his skin, hot and searing...

„My partners have agreed to your proposition. I suggest Mr. Novak and me start immediately?" Cas shivered. The look Dean shot him ... he felt like a bunny in front of the fox...waiting impatiently to be devoured. Asking...BEGGING to be ripped apart.