"So, princess, what's got you in this business with your brothers?"Brogan Macmahon, the man in the file, was interviewing Nallya while the other two handled business with Saoirse at the back of the jet.

"I'm very persistent. Just because I'm a woman doesn't mean I'm not the one who wants the business."

"That is great.McGrath will like you, you've got that spunk. How about a drink?"Brogan took a champagne out of the ice bucket and let her see the label.

"Please."

Brogan hands the bottle to an attendant and serves the champagne after removing the cork.

"Sláinte, Your Highness." He toasts.

" 'Sláinte' " She repeats, sickeningly sweet in return.

Napoleon came back in the middle of their sip.

"Is it alright if I borrow our sister for a moment?"Nallya cocks her head to the side and lowered her champagne flute.

"Go ahead."She sets the glass down and follows Napoleon.

"He convinced her... only if you do what she says."He mumbles out of earshot, pulling her closer by her shoulder to let an attendant pass by.

"What are you on...?" She says low enough for him to hear alone when they got back to walking.

"I have a feeling she's going to make you shoot us."

"Don't worry. I'll aim on the other arm." Nallya clicks her tongue and makes her way to the lounge at the back of the plane where Saoirse sat in the middle of the couch behind a round table.

She was a very captivating woman. She had wide green eyes that had enough lines in the corner from probable frustration and too much glaring hiding below long, black eyelashes and short, curly, red hair that has too much hairspray to be moved. It looked perfectly still just like the rest of her features. Her full lips thinned and turned into a smile.

"Why, dearie, I don't believe we've met."She uncrossed her legs and leaned on the table with her arms.

"Aurora Konstantin.. You must be Saoirse, you can call me Rory." Illya and Napoleon watched the exchange, hoping Nallya would catch unto what she missed.

"Beautiful. It's good to finally put a face to the name. Come, Sit. The two of you." Nallya and Napoleon takes the remaining seats across the table and turns back to Saoirse, who leans back to the cushion.

"I've heard a lot about you from your brothers.... You've been acquainted with other world leaders, Yes?" Nallya tried not to roll her eyes. This wasn't her cover, but she'd probably be able to answer any clarification she needed to trust the three of them.

"You've heard correct, yes."

"And you want to do business with us?"She points behind them and to herself. All of them look back and Brogan was leaning on the frame, trying to keep his stance despite the turbulence.

"Yes. If you're asking us something indirectly, please don't choke on it. Just ask or else we'd have been wasting our time."

"I'm afraid I can't work with you."Saoirse sucks in her cheeks as she tilted her head up and lowered her gaze.

"Why?"

"Out of respect, Your majesty. She has a contract with me... That she can't break because it will cost her her position." He swatted in.Nallya runs through what she knows about Brogan in her head while he talked about the contract. She throws a look at Illya.

"este el de important?"(Is he important?) Illya thinks for a moment.

"Nu..." (No) He responds before spotting Nallya's hands slowly reaching down her ankle.

"-Dar aceasta nu înseamnă că poți să-l omori."(but that doesn't mean you can kill him.) He added.

"Sooo.." Napoleon stretched the word to break the side conversation.

"-Is this a deal?"

"That depends on how you're going to do you part of the deal."Brogan responded.

"We don't have to prove anything."Nallya butted and everyone quiets down. Saoirse pulls out a revolver and takes out 5 of its bullets.

Napoleon looked at his teammates and he was sure he saw the two smirk at the same time before it vanished like it never happened.

Saoirse spins the cylinder and closes it. She slides the gun to Nallya who stared at the gun then her.

"Are we playing Russian Roulette for trust?"

"Prove me wrong." Illya and Nallya already knew how to survive the game. Fundamentally, they were Russians... except Napoleon.

Nallya takes the gun and doesn't hesitate on wrapping her lips around the muzzle of the gun and clicking it without flinching. She passed it to Illya who basically did the same thing.

Brogan watched this whole scene horrifyingly amused. Saoirse had seen some crazy things, but not so casually. Brogan, on the other hand, hasn't.

Napoleon clicked it, surprisingly not reacting at all and puts it on the table.

Nallya grabs it and aims it toward Brogan who straightened up in fear.

"How can we trust you?"She asks. Saoirse doesn't respond and Brogan shakes his head; begging.

"We can talk about this."

"Talk about what? We haven't made terms yet."

"Please don't shoot me, I have kids!"

"They'd just have to get another father then."

"He's lying." Napoleon and Illya just sat on either side of Nallya quietly observing the mess Macmahon became.

"Why would you lie to someone with a gun? Are you that desperate to die?"

"No! No! I'm sorry. I lied. I don't have kids."

"I can kill you then?"

"No!! I'll give you a share of my company then, eh? How about we make a deal without the gun? Disnae sound awry?"Brogan was pleading on his spot without thinking.

Nallya pulls the trigger and he screams but nothing happens. She gives it back to Saoirse and the two shared a laugh.

"She's not stupid. If she actually put a bullet in that and I shot you, the plane might go down."

"Kind of like threatening to put down a woman of power. You go down with them."

"You might want to rethink the terms, pal. " Napoleon adds before standing up.

"Crazy Romanians."

"You don't know half of it."

-------

Two nights into the mission in Belgium, the team had layed out a valid plan to first check out the site to learn more about it. They'd scored a tour the day before with Brogan's assistant and Napoleon's sticky fingers managed to grab a blueprint on his way back from the bathroom.

The three didn't set up an agreement on time and who was supposed to check it out which resulted with all of them being in three different floors in the same building without knowledge that the others were there.

Nallya slithered her way into the vents  and waited until the last employee had shut down their station and all the lights were off. She set up microphones above the grills to pick up any information anywhere.

Coming down from the ceiling, Nallya started walking on the dark parts of the hallways occasionally dodging the moonlight that went through the windows. She was in the side where shipment arrivals came in. There were trucks and crates and some yachts that were covered.

Voices bounced off of the walls  followed by footsteps and jingling of keys. She slides in to the first door she sees and settled inside to let the person pass. Lights flashed from the gap at the bottom of the door for a quick second and it was gone.

She looks around the room that was filled with metal file cabinets that looked like it hasn't been touched for awhile. Fixing her beret, her free hand unclipped the flashlight from her hip and shines it around the room.

"This wasn't on the tour..." she whispers while climbing on one of the cabinets to have a full view of the room and wiping off the dust off the surface so there were no footprints on top.

She took out a copy of the ventilation system to navigate the floor she was in.

There should be a vent at the left.... she flashes the light on the upper left corner of the room aligned with the windows.

Good thing I'm kind of small. She thought as she got to the cover. On the process of unscrewing the grid, she heard the door knob turn.

You have to be kidding.

She drops to her knees and crawls toward the corner turn that faced the door too check it out. She sets a compact mirror across from her to watch the scene.

The door slams and the passive agressive hushed contretemps started. Just by the sound of it, Nallya knew it was nobody else other than Napoleon and Illya... but she didn't present herself.

"I thought we agreed that I work alone, Peril."

"We've been working together for three years, Cowboy. We never agreed to anything."

"Except for not dying. I told you not to go on this."

"You're not my mother."

"I would be very popular if I was"

Nallya watched Illya pin Napoleon to the wall with a forearm pressing down the American's throat. She listened to the conversation uninterestingly as she skimmed through the prints again, looking at the mirror every now and then.

"Are you forgetting that we are not friends?"

"You're hurting my feelings, Sweetheart."The tone of Napoleon's voice alone gave Nallya second hand irritation.

"Three years and I thought... черт побери."(dammit.) She recognized that covered disappointment in his voice because he does it more than he'd like to admit.

He let's Napoleon go and fixed himself, but the following movement... Nallya might have just guessed from the beginning.

The sulky 6 foot 4 Russian was pulled into a hug by the back of his neck, seemingly helpless and visibly distressed. Nallya recalls the comment from the first night she met Napoleon. "How..do you .. do that? I've been working with this russian flag pole for a few years and never have I managed to get him to react with different emotions in one conversation." Illya only expressed susceptibility at the times he needed to react to something related to Napoleon. She took note of that.

Nallya wanted to comment at this discovery, but alas, She couldn't. She thought it was something personal because Illya never showed that side to her.

"It was different then. I know we have the same job,  but I don't know what can happen."Illya's forehead was against Napoleon's while they spoke quietly.

"You're the one who was almost fried to death."

"And you're the one who almost got blown up by THRUSH. Look, Ill. You and I both know that you're more than capable of taking care of yourself. So, just let me do this." Napoleon pats the side of Illya's face and Nallya was smiling from her spot.

"If you think I am going back now, you are an idiot." Illya mumbles, pulling away from
him.

"Only your idiot.Promise me the next one is on me. I'll let you tag along on this one."Napoleon left a kiss on Illya's jaw before looking up to make sure they have an accord.

"Of course." Illya whispered looking down in rout and opened the door to get out. The two left and Nallya stuck her head out to check if they were actually gone

"Called it."She goes back to take out the cover of the vent and climbed in to get to one of the main labs.

By the time she was near the elevator, her radiosignals picked up a conversation.

"I think that's the last batch. I'll run a check on the supplies again, I'll see you at the station." It was a man's voice. The mic didn't quite pick up the response of the other person,but Nallya thought nothing of it.

Luckily this isn't America.. I heard they've been developing video surveillances. Nallya told herself as she kept her distance in a blind spot while waiting for the elevator to arrive on the floor she was in.

Without warning, shots were fired from the hall she came from before the archives and it sounded like it they were stampeding closer and closer to her corner. She senslessly bludgeoned the elevator door and jumped for the cord, sliding all the way down below ground level and beating the descending metal box.

---------

"Peril!"Napoleon yelled through the gunshots that filled the air and aimed for his head. They got seperated when the security instantaneously rained bullets on them when they walked into an unscheduled supply check and didn't notice the guards flipping covers and flashing lights on the boxes everywhere.

"What!?" Illya replied from a few meters away but the shots were interfering with Napoleon's ability to actually hear which direction Illya answered from.

"On your right cowboy!"

Always the mind reader. Napoleon turned to his right and found Illya crouching down uncomfortably behind an overturned table with a gun in hand and his hat gone. He waves his hand on top and immediately, Napoleon just kinda knew what the other man meant. He guessed it was the perk of having worked with people who barely spoke a word in a warzone or a stake out; you get another variation of a sign language.

Illya starts counting down from three and Napoleon prepared to kneel down by his legs so they'd wipe out anyone who was crouching or standing.

Hopefully there's not a-

Before even finishing his thoughts, Napoleon slid over to Illya and fired a few shots that were accurate enough to pierce through the wooden packages and still be able to kill the person behind it.

The shots stopped and so did they. Napoleon looked around the perimeter and nobody was there anymore... nobody alive anyway.

"Let's go.I can see more people coming from the overhead." Illya pulled him up by the recently injured arm and Napoleon tried his hardest not to curse at the action that pressed on his still healing wound.

Standing up hastily, Napoleon picked up the taller man's cap as he caught up with him. Making sure to look back for danger and sure enough another batch of security was about to aim fire.

"Nope. Keep running." He pushed Illya, rushing him to move forward to take cover and they found themselves back at the hall near the files. There's a turn a few more doors down and Napoleon recalled an elevator being at the end of it.

Another wave of bullets were sent their way and Illya took a sharp turn, dragging Napoleon with him and they scurried to the elevator that was miraculously only beginning to open its doors.

They reached the platform effortlessly, but struggled to close the door promptly.

"Out of all the missions and I'm about to get murdered in a lift" Napoleon agressively pressed on the button again and again.

"If you break the buttons, we will actually die in here, Solo." The lines on Napoleon's forehead deepens and Illya sighed as he pulled the man's hands away from the controls.

The doors started closing before the guards arrived, yelling in West Flemish and Napoleon smiled and waved goodbye until a bullet made it through the small gap and hit the back wall of the elevator. Illya stares at it blankly and leans to the corner next to the door.

"This is the wrong time, but you would be dead now if I didn't go."

"Psh. I'm not that incompetent." Napoleon pats off wood chips off of the flat cap and hands it back to Illya, who looked at him like he just handed him the universe.

"Thank you."

The doors open once again, but this time to a not-so-dry, impassively antagonized Nallya.

Napoleon smiled beckoning and Illya- solicitous. The two got off of the shaft.

"You purposely copied our blue prints wrong, did you."She threw the question right at the back of the dark haired agent who walked past her.

"Did you grab his map?" Napoleon dishes out suspiciously.

"Hmm. Now I figured why I probably shouldn't have done that."

"Did you find out what we needed to know?"

"More than what I bargained for, Solo. More than what I initially bargained for."She mutters.