**POP**!

The cork flew through the air, the crowd cheering as the champagne flowed. He wasn’t here for drinks, sadly, he had a job to do. He looked across the crowded ball room, moving through the dancing couples like a snake in the grass. The slight tap in his pocket and the addition of weight told him everything he needed to know as he snaked back out, making his way to the door.

Or at least he would have, if not for her.

“_Leaving so soon? Bit of a party foul_.”

He would turn, being face to face with the lady. She was an elegant figure, her body draped in a flowing crimson dress and her hair adored with golden strands and tied in a neat bun. Her face was obscured, but it was clear she was beautiful, even with the masquerade-esque mask over her face. She stared him down, her emerald eyes piercing his soul as she observed him throughly, picking him apart.

“_Business to attend too_.” He manages to slip out, trying to maintain his composure. He may be a secret agent, but women are apparently still scary.

“_Oh, come now, you mustn’t leave_. _Where’s the fun in that_?” She says, her voice oozing with charisma and charm as she moved forward.

Before he even realized, he was outside, the chill of the Moscowian air nipping at his face. He couldn’t jeapordize the mission, especially not over butterflies in his stomach.

He would feel in his pocket now, reaching for the box.

Except nothing was there.

Son of a bitch, she took it.

Back inside, he looked frantically, observing for even the slightest hint of the woman. He would make his way through the dancing couples once more, the feeling of-

**CRASH**!

Liquor flies and shrieks are heard as he tumbles to the floor. He would open his eyes, noticing the waitress he had obviously ran in too.

“_My apologies, I didn’t mean to run into you so abrupt-_“

As he had reached to help her, he noticed those same green , shimmering eyes. This woman, however, had hair the shade of amber, and now wore a pair of slacks, a dress shirt, and a tie.

In one swift motion, he used his heel to pin her to the floor, swiping the box from the breast pocket of her shirt.

Only to once again hit the floor as her legs knock his clean from under him.

A brawl ensues, between him, the agent, and partygoers trying to break up what they assume is a insane man assaulting a waitress.

Finally, he reached an opening in the chaos, bolting for one of the beautiful arching windows, before shattering it clean through by dolphin diving through it.

He would land in a pile of snow about 9 ft below, it absorbing his fall as he tumbled out and onto the streets. His car waited outside, an unmarked SUV with tinted windows. As he slid into the backseat, he would shiver,

Something was off.

All of the cars sent had a separating panel in between the front and backseat, mostly a precaution for situations where they needed to bring someone in. However, this one had a ventilation duct attached right beneath the glass

This is a trap.

Too late, the car begins to fill with a thick cloud of white mist, it filling his vision and soon his lungs as he slowly begins to black out. In his last bit of consciousness, he can make out just the tiniest bit of Serbian, before everything fades to black.

[Probably gonna make a part 2 tomorrow, but I’m tired and need sleep]