A/U: Hello all, here is the next update. Thanks for all your reviews, I just wanted to clear something up that a few people have pointed out to me. Mahone is the Training Director, not the Director of the ICA. I'm sorry this wasn't clear and am editing the previous chapters to make it more apparent. Anyway, enjoy this one. :)

Chapter 18

The Parisian night was enchanting. I had never been to Paris; it was a shame about the circumstances of my visit. The streetlights reflected back at me from the Seine. In another life I might have gone to a café and enjoyed the atmosphere, but I was here for a reason and I had to get ready. I sighed and made my way back to the hotel not far from the center of the city. I could see the Eiffel tower from my window, I had to hand it to the ICA they weren't ones for putting their operatives in a hostel.

Cicada knew I was here with the ICA, I had told them I would persuade them to send me here on a contract. It had shown me that the group didn't know everything about my employer, the fact they hadn't questioned why a handler would need to go to the country of a contract had proven that. One thing I had made absolutely sure of was that they didn't know what 47 looked like. The agency really had done a good job of hiding identities; he would make the hit once we knew who to target.

The hotel Shangri-la greeted me as I rounded the corner of the street. It's impressive façade glowing orange from the tungsten lights positioned around it. I didn't fit in at all in this place, the doorman gave me a stuffy look as I walked in. I grinned back; I wasn't going to be judged by some French snob on a hotel door. I strode through the lavish reception area, all sweeping staircases and chandeliers. A number of well-dressed hotel guests glanced at me as I passed. Much to the annoyance of 47 I had insisted on wearing my usual outfit of jeans, vest top and checked shirt. My worn out sneakers squeaked on the marble tiled floor, I stuck my tongue out at a particularly snotty looking woman in an elegant ball gown. Her shocked expression made it completely worth it.

I leant against the back of the lift as it took me up to my floor. Rubbing my aching eyes, the last remnants of the peaceful Paris night beginning to fade, I tried to focus on the plan. Go to the party, meet the Cicada recruiter, gather intel, hand it over to 47. I repeated the list over and over as I exited the lift and made my way down the corridor. I was whispering it as I entered my room, swiping my keycard.

I didn't scream, instead I picked up a rather heavy looking glass near the door and threw it with all my strength at the intruder in my room. Only realising as it left my hand that they were wearing a familiar black suit and red tie. 47 caught the glass easily, raising his eyebrow at me. Without a word he placed it carefully on the desk beside him and folded his arms.

"That was an improvement on the last time you found me in your room at least." I glared at him as I moved passed him into my room. He turned to follow my movements as I located my laptop and dropped it on the desk next to him.

"Yes, well I have you to thank you that, with all your defensive training last week." He uncrossed his arms and rested his hands on the surface, bringing his head down to my level. "Although glassing my agent in the head before a mission wouldn't have been the best way to get the ICA back on my good side." I gave him a sarcastic smile. He sighed, ignoring my prickly attitude towards him. I had been jumpy since we got here.

"Why are you in here anyway? I thought the plan was to remain separate until after the meeting?" I tapped away a little too violently on my keyboard, attempting to access the messages from Cicada.

"Peregrine." His tone demanded my attention, although I wasn't in the mood for his patronizing tone tonight. I looked at him, my face set in a grumpy expression. His half smile made my stomach clench, but I was determined it wasn't going to win me over. "Diana said you were being stubborn about tonight's attire." The unexpected subject took me aback.

"Excuse me? What's wrong with that?" I pointed angrily at my only dress hanging on the closet door, incidentally 47 was the only other person who had seen it. He glanced over his shoulder and shook his head.

"You have to blend in Perry. That will not help you achieve that." I straightened up growling in frustration.

"What are you getting at 47?" I stood up, he towered over me still.

"There's something in the closet for you. I'll see you at the party." I ground my teeth as he turned to leave, my nerves and anger getting the better of me.

"If we're talking about blending in, that tattoo of yours can't do you any favours." He shot me a venomous look over his shoulder, and my blood turned cold as I realised I'd gone too far.

"Just get ready. It's going to be a long night."

…..

I tugged at the top of the dress 47 had got me self consciously, a strong sense of de-ja-vu in my mind as I walked towards the extravagant Parisian home of famous actor Timothy Falon. When I had first been told who the recruiter was I had been shocked, but the more I thought about it the more it made sense. He was charismatic, an influential voice in the media and had abundant wealth and power. It would be enough to seduce any successful candidate into joining their ranks.

I gripped onto my lucky coin I was keeping in the purse that had come with the dress. I rubbed my thumb over the raised lettering 'Merces Leitfer', lethal trade. It was certainly that, and I was about to take my first official outing in the field.

"Good evening Peregrine." I jumped several feet in the air at the sound of Diana's voice in my ear. That was weird, now I knew how they felt. I pushed gently on the earpiece nestled in my left ear. The sensation would take some getting used to, and I had to be conscious about speaking to her in public.

"47 is already at the location. Your meeting with Timothy Falon is set for 9pm, we will be watching." The last part could have been taken as a comfort or a threat; I would decide later which one it was.

Taking a deep breath, I walked towards the large front door where other guests dressed in their finery were headed. I say walked, I teetered as 47 had stolen my normal comfy flats and had left a red, satin pair of high heels to match my dress. Mentally I listed the ways I would kill him later. The dress he had bought me was nice, it was more than nice actually; it was a knee length red 50's style dress with wide shoulder straps. As evening dresses went it was understated and simple, probably the exact thing I would have chosen if forced at gunpoint to pick. I didn't know anything about fashion or clothes, but I knew enough to tell it was expensive. I had resolved to return it to him when we were done here, if I didn't ruin it by getting killed that is.

A live band was playing somewhere in the mansion, the music audible from outside. The chatter of guests increased in volume with it as I made it to the door. A pair of bouncers looked me up and down as I struggled to stay upright in front of them, one of them leered at me I chose to ignore him. Turning to the other bouncer I gripped the coin in my purse tightly, as I stammered, "The name is Morgan Williams, I'm on the guest list."

I had no need of an alias here; I wasn't technically undercover. Cicada were expecting me, still the use of my real name made me uneasy and very paranoid. The bouncer scanned his the list on the tablet he was holding, while his partner stared at my legs. I gave him a cold look over my shoulder as I waited impatiently for them to let me in. Eventually the bouncer looked up and nodded at me, "You're here, have a good night." He smiled at me professionally, his partner winked at me. Clenching my fist around the coin I was holding I attempted to march purposefully into the mansion. All I managed was to nearly twist my ankle as the treacherous shoes gave way under me.

I was about to fall flat on my face in an unattractive heap, when I felt a strong hand grip my elbow steadying me. 47's blue eyes were slightly creased in amusement. My breathing grew a little erratic as I saw him in his tuxedo for the first time. His face was neutral, all trace of our disagreement earlier gone.

"Watch your step Miss." He gave me a charming smile, so he was playing the charismatic stranger was he? Well I wasn't going to let him off that easily. Extracting my arm from his grasp I gave him a faux smile back.

"Apologies, someone insisted I wear these stupid, impractical shoes." His mouth twitched, I continued not willing to drop it just yet. "Don't worry, I'll get my own back later." His smile turned into a grin. It was amazing how much his face changed with the unusual expression, even though I knew it was an act.

"I'm sure you will…Miss?" My eyes narrowed at him, he didn't break character once.

"Williams, Morgan Williams." I saw his eyes soften slightly at the sound of my real name.

"Please to meet you, my name is Tobias Rieper." My heart jolted at the mention of his old alias. Flash backs to our first meeting taking over my mind. With a cheeky grin I stated, "Tobias….that's an interesting name." For a brief moment his eyes glinted with something I hadn't seen before, my insides turned molten. Then before we could delve any further into the weird, role-playing cycle we had got ourselves into, a voice spoke into our ears.

"Can you two stop flirting and focus on the task in hand." There was definitely humour in Diana's voice, like she was fighting hard not to laugh at something. I blinked rapidly, trying to clear my head. The look in 47's eyes returned to hardened steel, and he gave a curt nod. The winning smile was still fixed on his face, but I knew we were pretending again now.

"Maybe I'll see you later Miss Williams?" I nodded dumbly at him; he proceeded to walk past me into the crowd. Just as he got in front of me, his shoulder brushing lightly against me, he leant in slightly and whispered so only I could hear.

"Red suits you." My blush probably matched my dress, before I could respond he had melted into the background. Letting out a big sigh, what had all that been about? I made my slow way from the hallway into the packed main living area of the mansion. The place was huge; it obviously belonged to someone who liked to put on a show. The massive living area had a stage built on one side, the band were in full swing and I couldn't see the floor for people dancing. On the other side there was a bar setup underneath a sweeping staircase leading the upper floors. Well, one thing was for sure this guy had the money to make Cicada a force to be reckoned with.

I craned my neck searching for 47 in amongst the part goers, but he had completely vanished. I turned my efforts to looking for Timothy Falon; my research into Cicada 3301's recruiter had turned up some interesting stuff. He was the father of the late Deedee Falon, the singer my old boss Dom Johnson had driven to suicide. Meaning Timothy had been the client for his contract. I didn't put this down to a coincidence; if Cicada were as powerful as they made out they couldn't have dealt with Johnson in their own way. They had enlisted the ICA's help for a reason; I was hoping to get the answers tonight.

I was beginning to lose hope of ever spotting my target when Diana's voice interrupted my search. "That is Timothy Falon, by the bar Peregrine." He was a handsome man for sure; I had seen his films, rugged and suave in an older gentleman kind of way. He was talking animatedly to some guests by the bar, the people around him were glued to his every word. The life of the party. My eyes followed him as he moved away into the sea of dancing bodies, a familiar figure caught my attention on the opposite side of the room to me. 47 was also watching Timothy, but he locked eyes with me as he became aware of me staring. I gestured slightly with my hand indicating I was going to try and get closer, he nodded and watched as I weaved my way towards Timothy.

He was holding court in the center of the dance floor, I felt somewhat out of place I had never been to many parties, period, let alone an A list celebrity's party. A few of the guests gave me sideways glances; fortunately 47's dress seemed to be working as none of them sneered at me, just looked a little curious. I stood awkwardly on the dance floor, trying to maintain a safe distance from the host. Swaying half heartedly, I noted how I definitely wasn't cut out for this fieldwork malarkey as the curious guests started to give me very odd looks. Give me my computer and headset any day.

"These days it's hard to find a good cleaner." Luckily for me Timothy was talking loud enough for the whole room to hear him. He was practically shouting at a well-dressed man, he looked like a politician, his eyes darting around to see who was in earshot of their conversation. "You know half of them are too lazy to do a good job, and the other half can't speak any god-damn English." Timothy laughed loudly at his own comment, the politician looked uneasy. The conversation appeared banal, if not a little offensive, but I was good at gathering intel and a fact that seemed irrelevant was usually the one to pay attention to.

I edged closer as Timothy's voice dipped in volume. "It's people like them you need to keep an eye on Senator." His voice was furtive, as if trying to relay an important point. I leaned in. "The new bill will help I'm sure, even after the unfortunate case of Congressman Thomas' untimely demise." My heart picked up pace. I took a good look at the politician talking to Timothy, he looked nervous, unsure of the situation. Was this Gregory Thomas' replacement?

The two men were unaware of my presence nearby, but a number of other guests were definitely giving me funny looks now. I realised then that everyone else was in pairs, as the band was playing a slow, romantic song. I mentally face palmed myself, I was swaying on my own in the center of the floor like a loon. My eyes found 47, still looking at me from the edge of the dance floor, his arms folded. His mouth was twisted in a funny smirk, as if he was trying his hardest not to laugh. I had never seen him look that amused before, and I scowled childishly back at him. At least he didn't seem annoyed at my awful attempts to blend in.

I was just about to reluctantly slink off away from the interesting interaction between Timothy and his guest, when 47 uncrossed his arms and made his way over to me. I froze, what was he doing? We weren't supposed to be seen together. He stopped a few feet from me, the smirk still apparent on his face.

"It appears you're missing a partner Miss Williams." He held his arms open, inviting me to dance. I was pretty sure my eyebrows disappeared I raised them so high. A few of the guests that had been giving me odd looks, kept glancing at 47 as he waited for my response. I could see a few of the women looking at me enviously; I must admit he did cut a dashing figure in his tuxedo. I knew he was only offering to keep me near to Timothy, but my stomach still did a flip-flop as he gently took hold of my hands and pulled me towards him. Expertly, he steered me closer to the two men, one arm wrapping around my waist the other holding my hand firmly.

"I didn't know you could dance." I murmured in a low voice, he gently moved me in a circle. I looked up at his face; one of his eyebrows was quirked slightly as he looked down his nose at me. Even with heels I still only came to his chin, he always made me feel like a dwarf. I knew he was trying to help, but this unnatural proximity to him was making it hard to focus on the conversation going on nearby. He was compensating for my instability by holding me up by the waist; I almost appeared elegant dancing with him in heels.

"People are beginning to question the bill Mr Falon." The politician sounded nervous, I was amazed they were having this chat surrounded by people. Glancing up at my dancing partner I could tell 47 was listening too, although no one nearby would have suspected. His blue eyes were locked on me, but they had a slightly distant look to them. Timothy wrapped an arm round the other man's shoulder.

"Senator Hall, I don't think it will be a problem. The bill has your vote right?" The Senator nodded obediently. Falon smiled widely at him. "Good, I'm glad. You're a valuable member of the team Hall. We're are achieving great things here." The Senator started to look a little sick, gripping his drink tightly he stared ahead not looking at Timothy. "A pilgrim always finds bumps in the road, it's how he deals with them that matters." He squeezed Senator Hall's shoulder and released it, walking away through the crowd.

I was staring at 47's chin, not daring to show anyone my face in case they knew I was eavesdropping. I wasn't as skilled an actor as our host or my partner. 47 brought his head down so that his mouth was next to my ear.

"I think that Senator is a new recruit like you." I glanced sideways at the man left alone in the middle of the dance floor. The other guests were giving him odd looks now, after standing still for a moment he drained the rest of his drink and marched quickly off the floor and towards the exit. I watched him leave, a knot in my stomach at the thought of my impending one to one with Timothy.

"I don't think he's happy about it though." I whispered back. The song ended and our reason for being there had disappeared. 47 released me from his embrace; I would have been disappointed if it wasn't for the nervous tension building inside me. He regarded me briefly, noting my distant expression. So quick I wasn't sure it had happened he reached for my hand again, giving it a slight squeeze. I looked at his face, his blue eyes the tiniest bit earnest as they looked at me.

"You've got me." He reminded me in a low voice, before turning and walking a safe distance from me.

"It's almost nine o'clock Peregrine." Diana's voice made me jump slightly, but no one turned from their dancing. I watched 47's retreating back a second longer, building up the courage, before I turned and looked around searching for Timothy. He was standing on the stairs behind the bar. I noticed with a start that he was looking straight at me, his expression not so friendly anymore. Seeing I had spotted him, he nodded slowly and began to walk up the stairs. I took this as my cue to follow him.

With one last look around for 47, I made my way towards the stairs. The assassin had disappeared, I only hoped he was watching from the shadows as I ascended the stairs. Two bodyguards met me half way round the gently curving staircase. They didn't say anything just flanked me as I continued up.

"47 isn't far away Peregrine, this could be our only chance to get the information we need on Cicada. Good luck." Diana sounded worried as she reminded me of the awful situation I was about to get myself into. I only hoped we had covered our tracks enough for them not to suspect the ICA were watching.

I finally reached the second floor, a normal looking corridor with bedrooms and bathrooms leading of it presented itself to me. If you could call a corridor in a famous actor's Parisian home normal. The bodyguards indicated for me to enter a room just off from the stairs, I obliged trying to keep my cool. I walked into a large personal office; Timothy was stood facing away from me behind a large desk, his hands clasped behind his back. If he was trying to look like a Bond villain, he was doing a superb job.

Slowly he turned around and gestured to a chair opposite him. I sat down tentatively, looking over my shoulder as the two bodyguards stood outside the room and shut the door hiding them from view. I swallowed nervously as I suddenly felt well and truly alone. Timothy gave me a small smile as I looked back at him.

"Hello Judas, so glad to hear you changed your mind on joining our little gang." He moved around the desk towards me, I involuntarily leant back in the chair as the barrier between us disappeared. With a wolfish grin he lowered his head to the same level as mine. "I am known as the recruiter. Any successful candidates come to me for initiation." His grin widened, and my stomach clenched in fear. "Shall we begin pilgrim?"