To say Nadia was disappointed in the group was a drastic understatement. "Absolute and total disgrace" was a far more accurate phraseology for the emotions that were plastered on her face. Nadia watched the television screens, visibly fuming, as the exercise continued. As the exercise came to a conclusion, she stuffed her hands in her pockets and watched as the bomb detonated on-screen. It was quite dramatic. As soon as Erik even so much as peeked into the room, the de-weaponized explosive gave a happy chime before beginning to fire paint in every direction. A rainbow of colorants fountained wildly from the machine, covering both Binx and Olly in a vibrant array of wet hues and also blasting Erik with a nice smattering of paint as well. Finally, the device finally powered down, small fumes of smoke rising from the machine after leaving the room totally covered wall-to-wall in the paint. Excess paint pooled at the door, dripping out from the doorway. This would be a bitch to clean, that was for certain.

Nadia briskly turned towards the building, walking there in long strides, pressing a finger to her ear. "HIRAM, terminate the exercise," she said stiffly, and the robot was more than happy to oblige. A shrill shriek echoed through all of the junior agents' earpieces simultaneously, certainly loud enough to give them a headache, before HIRAM's crisp voice sounded through the speakers. "That concludes the exercise. Director Sokolova is en route."

Nadia stepped into the building, walking around its interiors, looking highly unamused. She made her way up to the 2nd floor and folded her arms, tapping her foot against the ground impatiently as she waited for the group to gather. Once they made it, she shook her head once again, her facial features indicating absolute displeasure. "That was as entertaining as it was disgraceful," she finally concluded, her eyes scanning the room coolly. "That being quite a lot. There were a number of serious blunders made here today. If this was not an exercise, it would involve body bags. I have had comrades, of immense natural talent and skill, be defeated and killed by some of the most unassuming of counter-agents. Promenade included. As of recently, your inexperience has been showing, and your talents must be honed and perfected soon, or else, you will suffer in the field. You escaped Timbuktu with all your lives. You might not be so lucky next time."

She let her last phrase sink in for effect, before she coughed into her curled-up fist a few times, for attention. "During this atrocity of an exercise, a situation has developed overseas. Macao. You will be deployed there Monday evening. 5:30 PM sharp. I am working on mission details...along with excuses," Nadia added begrudgingly. She did not like making excuses. Nadia had seduced some of the world's most influential politicians, generals, and even secret agents before, yet she somehow still had trouble convincing a parent that their child would be going on a fun field trip for a few days. She had to start broadening her horizons with these parent excuse thingies. "Our intelligence officers and handlers are currently preparing the case file, but in the meanwhile it is imperative that you be more prepared for this scenario. Practice. Prepare. Satisfy your...teenage urges," she added callously, her eyes vindictively landing on poor Ben before shifting over to Binx and Olly. "We cannot allow any inexperience or individualistic needs to override the success of a mission. Failure in a practice is tolerable. Failure in the field? Instant, often painful, death."

Nadia stood there for a few moments more, thoughtful, before taking a long breath and speaking again. "I will, just this once, tread back on my words and revoke your punishment, on the anticipation that you spend some of your precious weekend getting ready for the mission," she said sarcastically. "And if any of you have anything to say to each other, perhaps now would be a good time to get it out of the way." She coughed again ominously as she turned away, before giving an electrifying glare over her shoulder.

"Oh, and take a shower. For once, you all smell worse than just sweat and hormones," she said, wafting the air away from her nose, as she continued to walk towards the stairs. "The odors here are beyond unpleasant. Eugh."

"Teenagers."

---

---

𝟷𝟼:𝟻9
𝙾𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝙲𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛, 𝙿𝚛𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚊𝚍𝚎
𝙼𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚊𝚛𝚍 𝙵𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝙷𝚒𝚐𝚑 𝚂𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚘𝚕, 𝚂𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚘𝚗 𝚃𝚇
𝟷0/𝟽/𝟸0𝟸𝟷

"Do we have everybody? Excellent. Let's begin the briefing."

Nadia Sokolova was at the head of the conference table in Promenade's Operations Center. The room was abuzz with life. The screens that encircled the room were displaying all kinds of footage from around the world, with agents coming to-and-fro, scribbling on clipboards and carrying binders filled to the brim with papers of all sorts. In the center of the room was a large conference table, and seated at the table was the agents of Promenade, joined by their director, as well as Agent Tom Bates and an unfamiliar face. The mystery man looked even less like a secret agent than the teenagers gathered at the table. He was Asian, middle-aged, and extremely anxious-looking, with beady eyes and trembling hands. He had hastily-combed thin black hair and a pair of large, thick glasses perched on his nose. He sat trembling at the conference table as Agent Stanley walked around the conference table, distributing manila files full of information.

"Your mission today brings you to Macau, a Special Administrative Region of China. Located on an island just south of the province of Guangdong, it is called the Las Vegas of the Oriental world. It is a gambling city, through and through," Nadia explained. "You will be heading to one of the largest casinos in the city- the Red Dragon Macau." A 3D image of a massive casino of gold and red projected onto the center of the table. "A massive casino located right in the center of Macau, the gambling center is run by a group called the Hyut Seng Lung. They are a dangerous criminal enterprise that has grown incredibly wealthy over the course of the last few decades," Nadia said nonchalantly. "They started in the business of drugs and used the money obtained in this business to purchase the Red Dragon Macau, which they have been using to launder their drug money, though admittedly, the casino itself turns a significant profit on its own. Regardless, the Hyut Seng Lung was not of significant concern to the United States government until this past week."

Nadia removed from her file an image of a burning ship and pushed it to the center of the table. "Friday, 10/4. A United States cruiser is ambushed by a large number of masked men while docked in Hong Kong. The ship was transporting a hard drive with important codes for the American naval base at Kanluranin, off the Western coast of the Philippines. Obviously, something of unparalleled value to the US," Nadia explained. "Kanluranin is a key location for the defense of Taiwan and the continued security in the South China Sea, and if the drive were to fall into the hands of an enemy of the US, it would be disastrous. The drive is still in the hands of the Hyut Seng Lung, but thankfully for us, our mole on the inside, Mr. Joseph Lim, has some information for us. Mr. Lim?"

The nervous-looking Asian man looked around tentatively. "Hello, hello," he said quietly, looking at the number of children that was now looking at him. "The, err, the lung are looking to...make money off this. They are holding a private tournament of baccarat for the drive. The CCP is attending, along with other regional warlords. Very dangerous situation. Very risky. But possibly very lucrative. The bid-ins are massive," the man explained, tapping the table nervously, his foot drumming on the ground like a jackhammer. The nerves were clear to see in action. "Scary. Very scary. They are scary men..."

Mr. Lim stared into the distance, and so Tom spoke up, looking at the group as he spoke. "Sending a US diplomat to represent the US would not only be costly and very risky, but it would also be incredibly wounding to national pride and image. Cow-towing to a Chinese triad is not exactly a good look. The United States government has recognized the situation is highly precarious, though, and that it will require an expert, unseen hand to resolve. And that's where you come in. Your mission is to infiltrate the Red Dragon Macau, terminate Frankie Kwan, the head of the syndicate, and recover the hard drive."

Nadia spoke up again, her tone as serious as ever. "This mission will not be as simple as some of your past engagements. The Hyut Seng Lung are heavily armed and heavily prepared, especially with the arrival of a Chinese diplomat in Macau. Security is going to be very tight, and the triad is very protective of their private information, much more so than the average criminal enterprise. Even Promenade does not have access to their floor plans for their VIP levels, where we believe the tournament will be held, and where we believe the drive is being stored. There are cameras everywhere, and the main gambling floors are all insulated in high-tech refracting shards to disrupt cell signals transmitting from those areas." Nadia pulled another file from inside her dossier. "For this mission, we are giving you all cover identities. You are all going to be teenage socialites in Macao, there to celebrate a massive 'birthday bash' for the 18th birthday of one of your friends. We have prepared fake IDs to help preserve your cover identities, along with a pre-prepared field kit for your needs, and HIRAM is doing the finishing touches on an extensive dossier on the Hyut Seng Lung and the information we have available." Nadia looked them over once again, before taking a long and reserved deep breath. "The tournament begins tomorrow, so you have tonight to prepare yourselves and ready the operation."

After saying this, Nadia glanced tentatively over to Tom Bates, who grinned and nodded. Nadia gave a resigned sigh. "Agent Bates has advised me to tell you to keep your workload minimal tonight, and only to passively gain intel as you utilize the hotel's amenities." She pursed her lips. "I would suggest to you not to make a fool out of yourselves or to blow your cover on this first night, though. Fate is resting itself on your shoulders, agents. Do not let it down."

Bates spoke again, a grin on his face. "This way, please. We have some equipment to share with you," he said as he stood from the table. Ben, who had been listening intently to the speech the entire time, hopped up from his chair, snatching the manila folder from the table as he followed the handler out of the room. Bates opened the door to the RND room, a high-tech workstation full of wiring, mechanics, and all sorts of gadgets hanging from the walls and cluttering up on the workstations. In the center of the room was a sleek silver table, and on the table was about a dozen briefcases, each with one of the agents' codenames etched into the side. At one of the workstations was Professor MacMahon, hard at work, with a small orb-like hovering droid floating nearby. The professor quickly turned over as he heard the doors to the room open, smiling giddily as he bounced over to the table with childlike energy. What made the man such a genius with gadgetry was that endless childlike enthusiasm. He was in his 70s, but had the energy of a preteen at Disney World. He laid both his palms on the silver table as HIRAM floated over, hovering behind him.

The professor smiled wickedly. "Howdy, howdy...oh, boy, do I have a lot of stuff for you!" He rubbed his hands together eagerly. "New gadgets that will knock your socks off! First and foremost, the outer layers! I've modified your suits with a carbon fiber mesh. Not quite bulletproof, but bullet resistant for sure. You'll still be hit with quite the impact from the blunt force, which I haven't quite figured out how to mitigate yet, but the suit should be able to prevent the bullet from piercing. At least, the first few rounds. After that, the fibers break pretty easily...the bullets will tear through you like termites through wood. Still working on a fix for that," the professor said. "Also in the mix are multi-purpose decks of cards! I have some razor-sharp throwing cards with identical characteristics to shurikens, as well as listening cards that have microscopic bugs in their core! Oh, and Binx'll like this one..." He removed what appeared to be a deck of cards that was inside a fiberglass case. "Lithium-coated cards. Once removed from the vacuum seal, the outer layer quickly begins to evaporate, exposing the tiny lithium core to oxygen. I would suggest you get out of the way once that one that happens, because you'll see a nice healthy kaboom after that." He chuckled. "And of course, your usual array of gizmos and thingamabobs galore! Take your choice of gadgetry. We have plenty of 'em, after all!"

As MacMahon returned to his tinkering, Ben grabbed his briefcase and laid it down on his worktable. He reached up, grabbing a number of weapons off the wall and stuffing them into the case. Two Nighthawk Customs, equipped with silencers, a modified bullpup rifle, and Ben's custom disassemble-able sniper rifle, which he had affectionately named "Ducky." Ben smirked. "Alright," he said, loading a few more discreet gadgets into the case, closing it, before stepping into one of the several opaque stalls located inside the room. A moment later, Ben stepped out, dressed sharply in a clean black suit. He was no longer Ben McBride- he was now Kingfisher. Well, technically, he was oil heir Johnny Ellison Fuller, but deep down, the Kingfisher was in the building.

Meanwhile, Tom clapped his hands together a few times. "Don't want to rush you guys too much, but the Worm is ready, and we have a limited timeframe to get you into the casino. Also, Foxtrot and Tango wanted to say good luck and goodbye," Tom said with a smirk as the two red foxes entered the room. Ben smiled warmly as he knelt down, scratching Tango under the chin. The foxes were the best little guys ever. Well, they weren't really little, to be fair. In fact, the foxes were quite vicious. Still, they were quite fun to be around, even if just for moral support. Ben gave the fox a boop on the nose before standing up, straightening his tie as he followed Tom out of the room, into another hallway in the massive Operations Center. There, at the end of the hallway, was a massive machine that looked like a gate, covered in thick coils of wires and several large lights. It sparked for a few moments before a bright blue swirl of energy materialized in the center of the gate, swirling mystically like something straight out of Star Trek. Tom grabbed a large backpack that was covered in wires and had a long antenna sticking out the back, tossing it to Ben. "You know what that's for. The portal will send you straight to one of your rooms in the casino. Good luck, stay safe, and have a shred of fun, won'tcha?" Tom laughed, handing Ben two room keys. "Remember, we'll be on the other end at all hours, so don't hesitate to reach out. Good luck again."

Ben nodded, taking a deep breath, before stepping through the portal. It was a strange sensation, using the worm. As he entered the swirling mass of energy, he felt light, impossibly light, like he could float in the clouds. That feather-weight sensation was there for a few seconds, and then all of a sudden Ben was deposited roughly onto a thick red carpet. "Ow," he grunted, struggling to his feet and tossing the Worm backpack to the side of the room, rotating his shoulders as he watched the rest of his teammates be casually deposited in the room. Ben put his suitcase on the carpet, dusting off his suit, as he looked around the suite. It was gorgeous. A large common space, complete with a comfy red sofa, a massive flat-screen TV, and a small aquarium, with two separate bedrooms- two queen-sized beds in each- and a luxury bathroom attached. Promenade had, at the very least, secured for them some vestige of comfort. Ben nodded to himself as he reached into his breast pocket, pulling out the two keys. He tossed one to Binx. "For the ladies," he said, before picking the briefcase back up. "We should meet up and look around, like Nadia said. Get familiar with the atmosphere. Y'know."

Ben plopped down on the couch, lowering his suitcase next to it. "I'll take the couch," Ben said resignedly, loosening his tie as he made himself comfortable. He ran a hand through his dirty blonde hair as he thought of a quick plan. Ben was not a very solitary person, and he had no intentions of walking through the casino alone. He thought for a few moments more before rolling up his sleeve, pressing two fingers to the lens of his AP-Watch. He then opened up his messaging app on the watch, looking through his contacts, and then, very hesitantly, tapped out a quick question:

𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚖𝚎𝚕 𝚞 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚙 𝚖𝚎 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚊𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎? 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍 𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚙 𝚠/ 𝚖𝚢 𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚎 𝚕𝚘𝚕 𝚏𝚒𝚐𝚞𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚞 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚙

This text would then be quickly followed by:

𝙲𝙰𝚁𝙼𝙴𝙽 𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚝 𝚜𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚢 𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚘𝚌𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚝 𝚇𝙳𝙳𝙳𝙳

And then, finally:

𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚖𝚎𝚎𝚝 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚒𝚗 𝚊 𝚏𝚎𝚠?

---

---

---

The past few days had past pretty slowly for Ollie. After the training mission he needed some time for himself to process what had happened. This meant a lot of solo training and sticking to himself when working on tech. One of the few people he really talked to was Bug, but it wasn't normal conversation. He had made every effort he could to get the surveillance before she had the chance to share it around. These were futile attempts, by Sunday afternoon he had stopped trying.

Come Monday after school, Ollie was in the Operations Center. He was seemingly back to his normal self again. Well, more or less, he still had a similar awkwardness around Binx. But it was a significant improvement from Saturday.

Ollie stood and listened to the mission briefing. While pretty standard affair, it was exciting to have a mission that required a degree of subtlety. Though if all the agents were attending, he doubted it would last for too long. He had meant to have used the time after training to help his teamwork with Binx. But of course other circumstances got in the way. He could only hope this would be different from Timbuktu, because ultimately he had done nothing to make sure it changed.

On to Professor MacMahon or the grandpa Ollie never had. To put it simply, Ollie loved the passion the man brought to his job. The two shared the same interest in technology and gadgets. Ollie enjoyed coming down here every time. The mesh suits were a good addition, it would keep his still developing medic skills to a minimum use. It was something to be appreciated. But Ollie was here for the wacky inventions, and MacMahon did not disappoint. Exploding cards were a cool idea, and he liked the relevant theming too. It was unfortunate that explosives weren't his style. But he knew who would be all over those.

Packing a bag with gadgets, Ollie brought 10 EMP grenades, 5 burrowcams, 2 comms jammers, his medic kit, and his set of tracker mites. There was a prioritization of information gadgets as opposed to disruption gadgets due to the mission. In terms of firearms, Ollie took a Remington M870 shotgun for if things went south and a silenced SIG Sauer M17 for stealth take downs. But ideally he wouldn't need to use neither.

Stepping into the stalls, Ollie took a bit longer than Ben. He had come out in a blue suit with no tie and the coat unbuttoned. The reason for taking a bit longer was evident in his hair, which had been slicked back to the point where not a curl was visible. "I first thought of it back in training when I was covered in paint, but blue is a good color on me... Yes I did this to my hair. There is absolutely nothing 'high roller' about having curly hair." Ollie made use of a comb to make sure it stayed in place. He was now Oliver Harrington, son of wealthy investor Walter Harrington. Disguises are fun.

Ollie did not pet the two foxes, he could already see they had a lot of attention and he couldn't really be bothered waiting to give them affection. He would save it for when he gets back.

---

The portal was a fun time, stepping in was a feeling like no other. Realistically, only few had used it and even fewer fully understood what the experience was. That made it fun. It was as if every time he stepped into it, he was stepping into the unknown. But just as it starts it is already over and Ollie was stood in the middle of a very nice hotel room. It must have been expensive, but that made the amount of beds irk Ollie even more.

"Before we all leave and do our own things for a bit, there are two things I would like us to consider. First, we did not enter this place through the front door and reception. This means if we are even slightly suspected, a review of surveillance or even the word of a receptionist will give us away. Therefore, we need to spend a good amount of time in the casino itself to show we are regular party goers here and make our faces known as such."

"Second, there are only four beds per room and there is ten of us. The hotel have records of this and no high rollers would sleep on the couch. Therefore, I believe it is a good idea for two pairs of us to look like couples when on the casino floor." That comment was made with logical thought in mind, still he made sure not to look at Binx during that. If he had blushed even slightly it would have been a bad look and given off the wrong impression. "None the less, thank you Ben for offering to sleep on the couch. That's all I have to say."

Having finished the small speech, Ollie fished around in his bag and pulled out the tracker mite system. He gave the tracker gun to Ben. "You can use the gun or just place the trackers by hand. But can you try to chuck a few on the security so we can examine their guard route?" He then passed a small USB bit to Bug. "This should upload the data from the tracker mites. I think you can probably make the best use out of it."

"As for me, I'm going to unpack my bags. Then I'm going to the casino floor. I learnt card counting back in Maine, so I am excited to hit the blackjack."

Carmen’s weekend was chock-full of studying, and not much else. Studying for the mission, that was. She didn’t get much done in the way of homework, which she would certainly pay the price for, but this was just so much more damn interesting! And important. Important too. For the next two days, she barely emerged from her room except to eat and go to the bathroom. She was too busy with her research. To the best of her ability, Carmen attempted to teach herself how to listen and speak in Cantonese over the weekend, although she didn’t make it too far. She also researched a fair bit about the general city of Macau, and then she tried her best to learn specifics about Mexican cartel dealings so she wouldn’t look like an idiot in her cover identity. All this left her little time to sleep. As was routine for Carmen, she pulled an all-nighter Saturday night. The only reason she did go to sleep Sunday night was a pesky agent named Bug. The girl had figured out she was still awake at midnight and had wasted no time in pulling embarrassing photos and texts off her phone and blackmailing her into hitting the hay. Carmen had complied, albeit begrudgingly. An extra 8 hours of studying was not worth her pictures being leaked to the rest of the squad.

The next afternoon, Carmen was right on time for the briefing. Having to tell her teachers that she hadn’t done her homework burned, but she knew it’d be worth it. Despite her anxieties over the weekend, Carmen was excited. She could barely contain her grin. She stared bright-eyed at Nadia as she briefed them. Her grin slowly slid off her face. Oh. This was a lot worse than she had anticipated. Carmen fidgeted a bit nervously. They were assassinating someone? She wasn’t sure if she could assassinate someone… although it probably wouldn’t be her pulling the trigger.

Carmen gulped her fears down as they walked over to Professor MacMahon. She ran her hand over some of the gadgets, ear peeled at his lecture. She winced at his simile. Gruesome. Carmen never had much use for gadgets, being mostly the translator, but she did take a deck of listening cards, a discreet two-way earpiece, a nightstick that doubled as a selfie stick, brass knuckles disguised as rings, a gun (which she’d only use if she was REALLY in a bind), a makeup mirror that was also a camera, a lipstick knife, and a host of other knick-knacks she thought might come in handy. After Ollie, she stepped into the stalls and changed hurriedly. She emerged in a lovely red dress and pointed thin black flats. Externally, she looked the part of María Elena Flores García, the American-educated daughter of an incredibly wealthy cartel leader and Mexican mob boss.

Carmen gave Foxtrot and Tango a good scratch on the chins before steeling herself and stepping through the Worm. She really didn’t like this thing. She would’ve clung to Ben’s arm if she had thought it’d make any difference, but it never did in the end. She emerged feeling a bit worse for war and looking a little green around the gills.

Gosh, how did everyone else deal with this? She looked around the room. Yuto looked cool as a cucumber, as always, and Ben and Ollie looked like they were having the time of their lives. Meanwhile, Carmen was just trying not to vomit. It took a few moments of deep breaths to get it under control until she was normal again. Then, she looked around the room.

Her eyes widened. This place was pretty. Certainly better than where they had stayed in Timbuktu. She went off to go poke her head into the girls’ bedroom when she heard her code name mentioned and perked up her head. Oh. It was just Yuto. She was glad he wasn’t actually addressing her- the older boy was notorious for being snappy to the younger agents. Her head snapped to Ollie as he spoke, too, and a raging blush swept across her cheeks. He couldn’t possibly intend for some of them to pretend to be couples!

“I-” Carmen stammered for a moment, at a loss for words. As much as she hated to admit it, though, it wasn’t a bad idea. “It’s… a good idea. I guess. But I don’t like it.” A ding from her watch interrupted her from this travesty of a conversation, thankfully.

Carmen’s eyebrows flew up into her hairline as she read “caramel”. Who did Ben think he was? But, thankfully, it was only a typo, and she let out a sigh of relief. That hadn’t been ground she had wanted to cover, today. He wanted to meet her in the hallway, apparently, and she grinned. Getting to do some recon could be fun!

totes!!!! be down there in a few C:

Carmen grabbed her bag, waved bye to some of the rest of the agents, and headed downstairs. True to her word, she met Ben in the hallway, on the patterned carpet of the casino.

She stood stock-still, glancing around the place. “So? Where to? I don’t really know how to gamble beyond, like, blackjack or anything…” She trailed off. “We could go get a bite to eat at the bar or something? I haven’t really eaten since lunch. And I have the 11:30 AM lunch. My ID identifies me as 21, so we could get the lay of the land from there. We could try to walk around, too, catch some conversation. Drunk people talk, and I can listen and talk back more than you. I- I don’t know, though. You have more experience than me, obviously. I’m deflecting to you, of course.” She glanced at Ben shyly. All she really wanted was to do the right thing on this mission. If that meant listening to Ben, then it meant listening to Ben. Not that that was bad, not at all. Certainly better than listening to Binx.

@Hitman@Jumbus

- and -


Ben gave an affable smile to Carmen as she approached him on the fancy red carpeted floors of the casino. ”Hey,” he said with a nod, tugging on the lapels of his suit stiffly. Ben looked like he was ready for a black tie event- clean, pristine suit, now complete with a black Homburg hat perched atop Ben’s golden locks (the hat actually had a listening device inside of it and, in a pinch, could be used as a boomerang). Ben quickly went back to adjusting his tie, still somewhat fidgety. He listened as Carmen spoke up, the girl still sounding somewhat anxious. “So? Where to? I don’t really know how to gamble beyond, like, blackjack or anything…” Carmen trailed off. Ben could sense she was still somewhat flustered. He couldn’t blame her. So far, her only experience on the field that was not a Promenade-controlled exercise was at that absolute dumpster fire of a mission in Timbuktu. “We could go get a bite to eat at the bar or something? I haven’t really eaten since lunch. And I have the 11:30 AM lunch. My ID identifies me as 21, so we could get the lay of the land from there. We could try to walk around, too, catch some conversation. Drunk people talk, and I can listen and talk back more than you. I- I don’t know, though. You have more experience than me, obviously. I’m deflecting to you, of course.”

Ben laughed a bit, trying to mask his latent nerves and project confidence. He wasn’t the best actor, but he would like to think that he did a pretty decent job of it. ”Your idea sounds great! The bar is a good place to go. Kind of where all roads meet at this type of gathering,” Ben said, rolling up his sleeve and looking at his watch. ”And you’re right. Drunk people are perfect to get some insight on who we’re up again. Can’t keep their mouths shut. And plus, I’ll hopefully be able to mark some people for Olly with this thing.” Ben shook up his right suit sleeve, revealing to Carmen’s eyes only a gray pistol with orange highlights clenched in his fist. ”Tracker gun,,” he explained, his sleeve falling down back over his wrist as the pistol mysteriously vanished into the folds of Ben’s suit. ”Known thine enemy, as they say. Anyway, let’s go. Wouldn’t want to keep your stomach waiting!”

Ben took a step, before stopping suddenly, standing there for a few moments in apprehension before clearing his throat and speaking. ”Oh! Almost forgot. You know, Olly did have a good point about how a bunch of rich brats wouldn’t want to sleep on the couch. Might be suspicious. So, I was just thinking...” Ben looked away. ”Maybe we could be, like, you know, a couple? As pretend, of course! Totally in-character.” He took a shaky, tense, and prolonged breath. ”If that’s OK with you, I mean! But...it’s a good plan,” he offered, at least somewhat hopefully, as he lifted a very clammy hand for Carmen to take.

Carmen felt her face turn as red as her dress and looked away before she could embarrass herself further. “I- I- I-” she stuttered. Carmen had never even dated a boy before. Or flirted, for that matter. Even fake dating intimidated her, made her feel a bit tingly in the fingers. The emotional part of her brain was trying to jump into a volcano, but the logical part of her was telling her it was a good idea. It could be… useful for their cover, certainly.

She glanced back up at Ben, still looking mortified. “We won’t actually… share a bed, right?” she squeaked out. “N-not that sharing a bed with you would be bad. It’d probably be grea- I mean, alright! I mean. Terrible? No, not that, I’m sure it wouldn’t be miserable? My parents would kill me if I slept with a boy. Either way. Not that they’d know, right?” Carmen took a deep breath, briefly sounding like she was about to start hyperventilating.

Ben tried to put on a reassuring smile, though deep down he was quite nearly as terrified himself. ”No, no, nothing like that. It’s just to keep our cover identities intact, y’know?” His cheeks developed a gentle pink tinge as Carmen spoke. ”And don’t put it like that! I’m not gonna ask you out in the middle of a mission.” He then quickly rectified that statement. ”I’m not gonna ask you out, period, I mean.” He reached his hand out, tenderly taking Carmen’s hand. ”Let’s just get this show on the road, alright? Somebody gotta scope this place out.”

This whole thing was confusing. First he was saying he would never ever ask her out, and then he was holding her hand? What was his deal? You’re probably just not pretty or cool enough for him. Too much of a dork. Just as swiftly as it had come, she banished the sullen thought. She didn’t want to date, anyways!

So why was she upset? Her cheeks stopped being tomato red and just stayed a slight pink as they walked to the bar together, holding hands. “Mhm,” she said, trying not to open her mouth anymore than necessary. “Right, right. If I hear anything interesting, I’ll let you know.” She would keep her ears peeled for idle chatter, she decided. And not make any more small talk with Ben.

Ben made absolutely, positively sure not to make any sort of eye contact with Carmen as the two made their way to the cantina. It was certainly awkward. Very awkward. Ben fixated himself on some of the pretty light fixtures as they made their way to the primary bar at the casino. It was certainly a very nice place- a glow of red and gold filled the modern, China-inspired Peking Lounge as a number of guests moved to and fro the room. Most of the people in the room were natives, it seemed, but there was enough diversity so Ben and Carmen didn’t stick out like a sore thumb. Ben made his way over to the bar, releasing Carmen’s hand and reaching it into his jacket while trying his best to erase the awkwardness of the last few minutes from his mind.

Ben subtly removed the tracker gun from his jacket, holding it beneath the counter. He leaned against the counter and squeezed off two rounds. The small, gelatin-encased bugs swiveled across the room unnoticed, hitting two guards square in the back as they passed through. Ben then spun the gun around and did the same, nailing another two guards with ease, before pocketing the gun in his suit. He pressed a finger against his ear and put his mouth to his other fist to muffle the sound. ”Marked a few guards in the restaurant area. You should be seeing them on your watches. Keeping an eye out for...bingo.”

Ben had spotted one of the individuals that they wanted to see. Alan Chow. He was an average-sized, if not slightly short, Asian man with dark, combed hair, but it was clear by the way that he dressed that he did not want to be forgotten. His suit, a dark jacket covered in glistening diamonds and a frilly shirt matched with a pair of pants that was equally diamond-studded, was exotic enough to impress Liberace. The guy that he was standing next to made Ben do a double-take. He could’ve sworn it was Yuto for a moment, but after a moment Ben recognized the younger man to be the singer guy from the case file. He did certainly share many characteristics with Yuto. Similar size and musculature, dark hair, boyish Oriental looks, mature jawline, fancy clothes, and the same blank, dead expression. The two were speaking in hushed Cantonese, and so Ben gently prodded Carmen in the shoulder to make sure she was listening. Meanwhile, Ben spoke on his comms again.”HIRAM is right,” Ben whispered almost silently. ”Agent Lancer and the pop singer are almost identical. Looks like they have some connection with Alan, too. Might be a good idea,” he said as the two promptly split up, Tsung walking down the hall and Alan heading for the elevator. Ben discreetly fired two more gel shots at them, marking them down on the watches, before turning to the bartender. ”Erm, I’ll get...two Shirley Temples. One for the lady,” he said in a slightly exaggerated Southern twang. It seemed like the type of thing Johnny Ellison Fuller would say.”That alright with you, Ca-...I mean, Marie?”

Carmen listened into their conversation discreetly. Nothing interesting. “It’s María, Johnny. I’m not French,” Carmen corrected. She put on a bit of a Mexican accent, but it wasn’t heavy at all. María was Mexican, after all. “I like Shirley Temples, yeah! Not like I was gonna order alcohol or anything.” Carmen chuckled at the idea. Like she would get drunk on a mission. The bartender was still standing in front of them, mixing their drinks, so Carmen elected not to discuss the goings-on behind them until she was done.

Once the drinks were served, Carmen smiled and nodded. “Xiè xie.” The bartender smiled back and walked away. “They’re not really talking about interesting,” she whispered to Ben, and took a sip out of her Shirley Temple. They were just as good in China as they were in America! “ They’re just about when the singer dude’s gonna get paid. Sounds like he really doesn’t wanna be here. But he is raking in a crapton of money from this, so it’s probably worth it.”

”Right, right, sorry, Maria,” Ben said loudly, before dropping to a whisper to respond to Carmen. ”Roger. You heard that, y’all?” Ben asked into his earpiece, looking at his watch. ”Looks like the pop singer fellow is lounging around in his dressing room...you can probably slip past security-”

Ben’s speech was cut short as two hands suddenly grabbed Ben and Carmen by the shoulder. Ben’s head whipped around to see the smiling face of a young man. He appeared to be Latino, with bronze-colored skin and short, curly chestnut hair with vivacious brown eyes. He was wearing an amber seersucker suit and had a thin pencil mustache. Despite being a couple heads taller than Ben (and thus a few more taller than Carmen) and having the build (and facial hair) of an adult, his joyful, plump face suggested that he was not too much older than the two of them. Perhaps college, or a couple years more. He spoke jovially. “Are you Master Fuller?” He somehow sensed the apprehension in Ben’s eyes. “Ah, a member of such a wealthy family cannot go unknown to me! I’m a bit of a high roller, so I know all the people at this casino. I hear everything. And are you Ms. Garcia, then? Hola, princesa. I am Alfredo Ruiz, the junior ambassador from Venezuela.”

Carmen jumped in her seat as this Alfredo man grabbed the both of them by the shoulders. She didn’t remember him from their briefing, so he couldn’t be that important, right? “Mucho gusto,” she said, rather curtly.

Ben had a very strong urge to shatter this so-called ambassador’s bones into dust, but unfortunately, Johnny Ellison Fuller was probably not capable of shattering peoples’ bones to dust, and so Ben played along, giving a tentative smile. ”Umm, nice to meet you. Can I...call you Al?”

Alfredo lifted his hands from Ben and Carmen’s shoulders to clasp them together joyfully. “Oh, of course, mi amigo nuevo. Sorry for such an abrupt introduction. I just wanted to meet the son of the man that my nation has done so much business with.” He smiled toothily. “I was just going to invite the two of you to a fiesta. We’re having a large get-together of some of the more well-connected casino-goers, and it would simply be incomplete without the two of you.”

Ben cleared his throat and was about to politely turn this Alfredo guy down, but Alfredo kept talking. “Not too long or too late of a party, of course! I have a big event tomorrow morning with a few other diplomats. Big tournament for a big payoff, so I have to be ready. Mentally, you know?” As Alfredo chuckled, Ben glanced ambitiously at Carmen, before looking back at Alfredo. ”Sounds good. We’ll be there for sure.”

What was Ben doing? Carmen merely smiled and nodded, a bit too taken off guard to sum up a real response. She shifted uncomfortably in her chair as Alfredo spoke. He knew a bit too much about their secret identities for her to be comfortable in his presence. But it seemed like she’d have to, because Ben had accepted his damn invitation!

“Gracias! I’m looking forward to it. Johnny and I are nothing if not party animals, right, Johnny?” Carmen looked at Ben expectedly. If he insisted on going to this party, she’d make sure they had a good cover, damnit!

”Oh, of course!” Ben said quickly. ”Me and Maria here love a good party.” The young diplomat smiled and nodded. “We’ll be meeting in the Tiger Lounge soon. Right down the hall. Hope to see you two there!” With that, the man stood and walked off, heading off to schmootz with some other guest. Ben turned to look at Carmen. ”This is our chance, Carm. To get into the tournament. You OK? You look a little shaken up.”

“W-what? No, I’m fine.” Carmen relaxed a bit when he left, letting her shoulders sag. “That guy is just… a bit skeevy, don’t you think? I-I agree with your decision, obviously, we should just be careful.” Carmen swirled her drink around with her straw. “When did he say that party starts? We might wanna let the rest know, I can go put on some makeup, look a bit classier.” She trailed off a bit, looking at Ben for approval yet again.

”All these people are skeevy, Carm. They’re criminals. And enemies of America. Not exactly the upright type, y’know?”

“You don’t have to be a criminal or an enemy of America to go to a casino, Ben,” Carmen teased.

”But you do to compete in some sort of poker tournament for nuke codes, Ben retorted with a smirk as he hopped up from his chair.

“I did not hear him say that.”

”That’s pretty much what he meant. Anyway, the party's probably gonna pick up in a few minutes.” Ben straightened out his suit. ”I don’t think we’re gonna have a problem. The rest are probably busy, anyway. And I think you look great. Fine as hell.” Ben smiled sunnily. ”But if you want to do make-up or whatever, I guess that’s fine. I’m gonna head right there. If I can snag the invitation right off the bat we can skip all the actual party stuff, which is a bonus.”

Ben’s compliment made her smile a little bit. “Well… I guess I look alright. I don’t have to go and put any makeup on.” She stood, too, and brushed the wrinkles from her dress. “It would help our covers if we stayed for a bit, wouldn’t it? If we convince them we’re legitimate, it’ll be a bit easier for us.”

Ben puckered his lips as he thought. ”You aren’t wrong. At the same time, this guy gives me the heeby-jeebies. This feels more like an in-and-out mission,” Ben explained as he began to walk. ”Get the invite, get out. Easy-peasy,” Ben said as they approached the Tiger Lounge, which was separated from the rest of the bar by a row of beads. Smoke curled out from the beaded entrance to the room. Ben wrinkled his nose. ”Hookah lounge. Ugh.” He looked at Carmen. ”Let’s go. And keep moving. Don’t want you to stand in the nicotine clouds.” And with that, Ben ducked through the beaded entrance and into the lounge.

It seemed as though the party had already gotten started. Men and women gathered around the large, fancy hookahs, all smoking like bandits. Ben gagged as he made his way through, wafting some of the smoke out of his face. How people found joy in doing this, he had no idea. He ducked past a few well-threaded individuals as he looked around the room. No sign of that Alfredo fellow. Ben continued on his way through the lounge, making his way over to a pair of red doors at the other end of the room. He pushed open the doors to the room and took a massive gasp. This private room also had a hookah in it, this one a tall blue porcelain one, but thankfully it was yet to be occupied at this time. The doors swung shut behind the two of them as Ben inhaled as much breathable air as possible.

His eyes scanned the room quickly, and he found what he was looking for. A briefcase, sitting underneath a few seersucker jackets that were hanging on a coat rack. Ben had only known this Alfredo guy for about 10 seconds, but he already knew that only he could have such a horrible fashion sense. Ben made his way over to the briefcase, opening it, and rummaged through the diplomat’s belongings, before smiling widely as he pulled out a fancy black envelope covered in golden swirls and Chinese characters. ”Bingo. The golden ticket. Literally.” Ben tucked the envelope under his armpit as he triumphantly walked towards the exit, stopping at the large hookah and removing the hose, pointing it at Carmen. ”I know you want a puff,” he said teasingly, waving the nozzle around her face.

Carmen squeaked and pushed it away. “You’re crazy if you think I’m putting that in my mouth!” she said. “Those things are full of all sorts of mold and tar.” It was true. She had looked it up!

Ben re-attached the hose of the hookah back onto the body. ”I’m guessing you aren’t part of the Juul squad, then?” he said with a chuckle, leaning back against the table and mimed smoking.

Carmen raised her brow. “No, no way. Are you, Mr. Cool?”

”Definitely not.” Ben shook his head vehemently. ”Not exactly ‘Mr. Cool’ either, but I’ll take the compliment.”

“Not a compliment. Don’t you hang out with football players? I’d say that’s pretty stereotypically cool. Basic, but popular-y.”

”I mean, yeah, but...” Ben looked down, shrugging. ”I’m not like them. They’re all, like, cool without trying. I haven’t even had my first kiss yet. But....” he grinned slightly, smiling again somewhat. ”Being a spy definitely kinda makes up for that. All James Bond, you know? It’s awesome. When you’re not getting shot at while being chased through the desert,” Ben noted, trying to shake the image from his mind.

“Do you want someone to hear us?” Carmen teased. “Being shot at sucks, I agree. Unfortunately, it’s all I’ve done so far.”

”Nobody’s going to hear us,” Ben said defiantly. ”Those people are as high as a kite out there.”

“You don’t know that. Now hide that envelope a bit better, and let’s go join the party. We wouldn’t want to bail so fast and then have our new friend think we’re the ones who stole his envelope.”

”Roger that, Captain,” Ben said jokingly as he grabbed the envelope. Just as he was about to put the envelope into his jacket, the doors to the private room swung open violently, and three individuals stormed into the room. One of those people was a very angry-looking Alfredo, one that very much contrasted the pleasant, sociable (and somewhat creepy) Alfredo from earlier. The other two individuals were tall, Asian men in uniform that Ben recognized as casino security. Ben blinked like a deer in headlights, instinctively stepping back. It was only then that he noticed a small, almost invisible, beeping red dot on the briefcase. A trap. We got set up. I’m a fucking idiot.

Alfredo reached into his seersucker pocket, pulling out a surprisingly dangerous-looking, sharp, letter opener as the two security guards hovered by the door. “I knew it, Fuller! I knew you would try to sneak in, you ladron!” Alfredo smiled toothily like a wolf. “Now I have you right where I want. Oh, I can see it now...gallons and gallons of beautiful, rich oil…” Alfredo laughed to himself as the two security guards closed in on them.

Carmen’s heart skipped a beat as she watched the two guards close in on them. She stepped back and bumped against him. Oh. Oh, we are so fucked. Luckily, it didn’t look like this Alfredo man knew their identities were fake, but… her mind spun with possibilities. If there was one thing Carmen was good at, it was being smart. The brass knuckles at her side and the gun and nightstick in her purse wouldn’t work her. She couldn’t take three tall, strong men physically, and a gun would be too loud and obvious. So, fighting was out. It was time for diplomacy to shine.

Oh, hell, there was no way she was dying in a hookah lounge in fucking China. Carmen clenched her fist, took a deep gulp of air, let her face take on a slightly threatening smirk, and began to speak. “Alfredo, mi amigo, I’m sure we can work something out. Johnny was just being… stupid. Right, Johnny?” Carmen waited for a nod from Ben before continuing. “I sure wouldn’t want my papí to hear about this, would you? He’s never taken kindly to strange men touching and… well, touching his innocent daughter and her friends. After all, he’s taken quite the shining to Johnny here. And I’ve heard that he has… quite the temper. None of us want that. Do we?” Heart pumping in her chest, Carmen smirked, casually fingering her brass knuckles. She really hoped she wouldn’t have to punch anyone.

Alfredo took a prolonged breath. “True, true, your father is a very...unforgiving man. I can’t have him getting too angry at me. Very well then, Senorita Garcia. You may go. But my business with the oil baron’s child is not finished.” The guards moved towards Ben, who took a shaky breath before ducking back, out of the way of the guards. They headbutted into each other, almost comically, and thus giving Ben a moment to act. He reached into his breast pocket, removing a sleek, black, extendable baton, before jumping into action, swinging back and forth with the fast weapon at the heads of the two guards. The smallish boy packed a surprising punch, and the two guards fell to a heap on the ground.

The Venezuelan, however, was still on his feet and was now angry. His attention focused on Ben, AKA Johnny, he rushed the marksman, catching Ben on the arm with his blade and leaving there a gash, before pinning Ben to the wall with one arm, the blade pressed to Ben’s threat. He was only focused on the blonde teen, having assumed that Carmen, aka Maria, had already left the room. “Oh, you cabrón, you are done for now…” he hissed angrily as he pressed the blade against Ben’s threat, eliciting a gasp. “You messed with the wrong man, you hear me? The wrong man!”

Carmen was, in fact, walking out, planning to go right back to their hotel room and get the others, before she heard the two men fall to the ground. She whirled around, alarmed, only to see Ben being pushed into the wall by Alfredo with a knife in his hand. She gasped, and her eyes hardened. She couldn’t just leave Ben here to die! She pulled out her baton and activated the brass knuckles disguised as rings, and then, she charged.

Before Alfredo knew it, all 123 pounds of Carmen Hernandez were slamming into him. She grabbed his knife hand and jumped on top of him, using all her force to pull him to the ground. In seconds, she had her baton pressed against his neck, cutting off all airflow, and her right hand pressing his knife to his chest. “No, you messed with the wrong people!” she said, panting from the sudden effort.

Alfredo could hardly get another word out before Ben came after him, grabbing his baton and swinging it into Alfredo's forehead, knocking him out cold. Ben retracted his weapon, putting it back into his pocket. He grabbed his arm, which was oozing blood. "Carmen...you...you saved me!" Ben said with a sudden wide smile. "Damn, you have something in you...Anyway, we should get out of here. Soon. Very soon." One hand tightly wrapped against his bicep to stem the bleeding, Ben lifted his other arm, aiming his wrist at the men on the ground. He fired three small darts, one into each of their necks. "Amnesia darts. That’ll keep them out of our hair," Ben said, a forced smile plastered on his face to cover up the pain he was in. Scarlet blood oozed out from behind his hand, now dripping from the crevices between his fingers and falling onto the floor.

Carmen took a quick inhale of breath- almost a hiss- when she saw Ben’s arm. “You’re welcome, but your arm looks really bad. There’s so much blood. We need to get out of here now and get you to some private place where I can give you first aid. Come on.” With a lot more confidence than before, she grabbed Ben’s hand and led them out of the hookah lounge. Thankfully, the other party goers were a bit too preoccupied with… well, hookah, to notice the profusely bleeding teenager being led out of the lounge.

Where should they go? Once they were out in the hall, Carmen searched for a supply closet or something like that. It needed to be private. She had a first aid kit in her purse, luckily, so she wouldn’t need to ask anyone for one. And she knew how to do stitches, so they wouldn’t have to go to a doctor unless she fucked it up. Unfortunately for Ben, the first place she found was an empty one-room women’s bathroom. They went in and she closed the door.

“Lucky for you… I know how to do stitches!” She dug around in her purse and produced the first aid kit. Having taught herself, Carmen wasn’t too confident in her abilities, but wasn’t about to let that stop her. “I mean, I’ve never tried on a real, live person before, but what better time to start than when someone needs them? Sit there,” she ordered, and pointed to the toilet seat. “Roll up your sleeve so I can clean up the blood and then disinfect it, maybe?” Carmen then grabbed a ton of paper towels, stood next to him, and busied herself with the first aid kit.

"F-first time?!" Ben looked extremelly nervous. "Carmen, r-really, I think I’m alright. It’s not that bad!” Ben rolled up his sleeve all the way to his shoulder. It was bad. And deep. And very, very bloody. "Some bandages and stuff will probably be alright! No need to rush into anything you can’t do, right?"

Carmen started to mop up the blood with the paper towels. Problem was, there was a lot of it, and it was coming fast. “Well, I mean, it’s pretty deep…” Carmen accidentally poked her finger in there while mopping up the blood, and it went in way further than it should have. “I mean… there’s a first time for everything? It’ll be better to have me do stitches than to bleed out in a Chinese casino, or, like, have to go to the hospital and have your cover potentially blown by the government. But if you think so, we can try to just do bandages. Do me a favor and hold those towels there? Let’s just see if the bleeding goes away.”

"OW! Don’t do that," Ben moaned as Carmen accidentally stuck her finger into his cut. He shook his head as he took the towels, pressing them against the wound. They quickly turned scarlet red as they became soaked with blood, though at least it seemed Ben wasn’t bleeding as badly as before. He looked quietly at Carmen’s face, sitting there in silence, before clearing his throat. "Thanks,” he said plainly, before looking away from Carmen’s face as blush ran through his cheeks.

After a little pause, Carmen bashfully whispered, “You’re welcome.” She felt a bit of blood rush to her cheeks and turned away.

There was silence for the next ten minutes as they held the paper towels over Ben’s arm. The bleeding stopped after 7, so Carmen, in all her know-it-all glory, deemed it not urgently requiring stitches. “Lucky you! You don’t get the experience of me stabbing your bloody arm with a needle.” She grinned, and then dug out the disinfectant. “This, however, might hurt.” She then liberally applied the disinfectant over Ben’s wound. Afterwards, she took out some gauze pads and taped them over.

“There. You should… probably get someone else to make sure your arm doesn’t need stitches, though. I’m not exactly great at this.”

"HOLY FU-” Ben held the swear sword back in as Carmen literally dumped disinfectant all over his arm. Jesus. Obviously her books hadn’t told her how much that shit hurt on an open wound. Ben was very pissed, and if it were anybody else, he would’ve given them a piece of his mind, but he instead managed to pull out his fakest smile yet as Carmen put a few gauze pads over the wound and taped it up. Ben cautiously rotated his arm a few times to make sure all was well, before rolling down his sleeve to cover it up. There was still a tear in his clothes where he had been sliced, and some blood stains, which certainly ruined this nice-looking suit, but at the very least Ben wasn’t an empty sack of flesh being deposited in a dumpster somewhere.

"I owe you. Big time. If there’s anything you need me to do, anytime, you let know, OK?” Ben looked down at Carmen, tucking a few stray strands of blonde hair behind his ear. "And don’t let what Binx says sometimes get into your head, alright? You’re a pretty spy.” He smiled amicably before realizing his misstep. "Pretty good spy, I mean. I mean, you are a pretty spy, but I meant...err...” Ben coughed awkwardly. "...I think we should get out of here.”

He owed her? Carmen blushed and looked away. “I-it’s really no big deal, Ben. You’re my teammate. M-my friend.” She blushed even more when he called her pretty. Hadn’t he just told her they’d never date thirty minutes ago? Jesus, boys were confusing.

“Yeah! Let’s,” she said, and smiled. “I hope you know everyone’s gonna make fun of you for getting stabbed in the first hour of the mission. For once, you’ll be the butt of the joke and not me.” At that, Carmen smiled triumphantly. Small victories. Small victories.

"Hey, at least I managed to get the invitation.” Ben drew the fancy envelope from inside his suit, waving it around in front of Carmen’s face. "That’s a mission success in my books. ”

“True. No offense, I mean, but you still got stabbed. First injury warrants teasing.”

"Hey, I didn’t make fun of you when you joined Prom. Don’t turn my good nature against me,” Ben said teasingly, gently flicking Carmen in the head with the envelope.

I wasn’t going to make fun of you! Binx and Yuto, though…” Carmen crossed her arms. “Don’t you poke me! I’ll sit you right down and make you get stitches.”

"You couldn’t sit me down if you tried.”

“I have a baton. I can kneecap you!” Carmen joked.

"You couldn’t kneecap a mannequin,” Ben shot back playfully.

“I don’t know about that! Ms. Sokolova is a pretty good teacher. Coupled with her signature demonstrations, of course.”

Ben winced mentally at the thought of Nadia’s ‘signature demonstrations.’ Needless to say, Nadia preferred having human subjects. "Try me, Carm. No way you can bring me down. In case you forgot, I’m an athlete.”

Carmen scoffed. “And I am too! Batons are awful similar to tennis rackets, you know.”

"Really, huh? How’s the tennis team doing right now?”

“It’s not tennis season. How’s the football team doing?”

"Early season slump. Anyway, my point still stands.”

“Mmmmmhm. Anyways, before I can expose your terrible spaceball skills, let’s go. This bathroom smells. Mostly like blood now.”

Ben sniffed the air. "Eugh. You’re not wrong.” He carefully opened the door, making sure there were no prying eyes nearby, before stepping out into the hallway and quickly making his way back to the hotel room, so as to not get spotted looking like he had just been stabbed.

The duo made their way back into the girls’ hotel room. Ben tossed the fancy envelope onto a coffee table. "And that’s how you get an invite into an exclusive gambling tournament,” Ben declared triumphantly as he made himself comfortable on the couch, forgetting that this was not his room. He kicked his feet up onto the table.

“And how you get stabbed! Ben got stabbed,” Carmen announced and smirked.

Ben grabbed Carmen by the wrist, pulling her onto the couch. "No, I did not! That was an accident! Shut up, Carmen!”

Carmen’s butt landed right on Ben’s chest, which made for a very awkward seating arrangement. She blushed and quickly stood up. “Yes you did!

"Did not!” Ben fired back

“Your suit’s all bloody and torn and you’ve got bloody gauze on your arm. Everyone can tell.”

"Fine, fine...” Ben folded his arms. "Still got the invite, though. One step closer to finishing this mission tomorrow. Nice work, Carm.” He smirked, as he quickly grabbed Carmen and yanked her back down to the couch again playfully. "Hah! Gotcha,” he said teasingly, and any agents that were still lingering around the rooms would walk in to see this rather juvenile, certainly teenage scene unfolding.

---

---

As Ben and Carmen continued their pathetic display at flirting, on the casino floors, Alan Chow lurked around like a shark in the waters. He would occasionally move to make small talk with guests and congratulate winners, but it was clear that there were two things he was looking for. One, big winners, and two, cheaters. OF course, in his mind, they were both the same things. Alan Chow ran a business, not a charity, and the Red Dragon didn't have the money to accommodate any unrelenting poker champs. And so, around the casino the man went, making sure that nobody was violating any rules, or winning too much.