Rogue agents 1: The prima ballerina

French nationalist

*Sebastian*

Holly sends me a look, telling me I am fiddling, and mouths ‘stop’, but to be honest this whole thing is having me on needles. I am not sure how it can go well and I already regret that we agreed to Ryan’s plan.

We had taken the phone back to Mr. Romanov, telling him we found it still in the bag in the hallway, right outside the ballroom, and that it seemed like Karolina had dropped it there. He seemed happy we had gotten the phone and of course that Karolina was safe, less happy that the guy got away.

“Everything is clear,” the guy who has checked the room for secret cameras and microphones says.

I give him a nod, “thank.”

I had used my charms, and convinced Karolina not to tell her dad that we had the guy. Telling her he unexpectedly woke up while Holly took her to her room and escaped and that I was scared to be fired. She agreed to support our story, saying the guy ran when we showed up.

Ryan then made a call to Mr Romanovs phone, pretending to be one of the suspicious people Mr Romanow has been corresponding with, A French right Wing Leader, Étienne Blanchard, that is on the observation list as a potential terrorist, telling he is in Rome and demanding a meeting next morning to discuss their collaboration. We did not want to give him time to think too much or look into things.

And here we are, waiting in Karolina’s room for Monsieur Blanchard. I had asked why Karolina’s room and Mr Romanow said that he did not want to meet this guy in public because their meeting could be misunderstood. That he only said yes to meeting this extremist because he claimed to have important knowledge of president Baranow’s secret deal with the Serbian president.

“I am not sure about this…” Holly says in a low whisper out the side of her mouth.

I breathe in slowly, “it will be okay, have faith.”

“Miss Juniper, go make sure a cart with refreshments is brought up,” Mr Romanov says.

I can see the anger flash in Holly’s eye, but she is to professionnel to say anything, so she smiles. “Right away Mr. Romanov.”

I have chosen not to tell him that by using Karolina’s room, even if she isn’t here, he could be putting her in danger, at least it is not the real Blanchard who is coming. I do hope Mr. Romanow has no idea what the French nationalist looks like, because Ryan has very little in common with him physically. But knowing Romanow I doubt he has the least idea.

Shortly after Holly has left a sharp knock from the guard outside tells us that the guest has arrived. And when Mr. Romanov gives me a nod, I go to open the door.

“Bonjour,” Ryan grins at me, then winks, before his face seems to almost morph into a snobbish French nationalist as he continues in French, saying something I do not fully understand, but I am pretty sure he says something about the British and a bad smell.

“Please come in Mr Blanchard,” I say, stepping aside. “Mr. Romanov is awaiting you.”

Ryan swaggers into the room, making me almost groan, he is totally overdoing this, doesn’t he realize? But Mr Romanov seems to buy it, greeting him like an old friend.

The room seems to crackles with anticipation as Mr. Romanov and Ryan engage in a conversation about the political landscape in France. Ryan effortlessly slips into his role as the enigmatic ‘Mr. Blanchard,’ weaving a tale that seems to captivate Mr. Romanov's attention.

Holly returns with a cart of refreshments, her eyes flitting between Mr. Romanov and Ryan, her expression a mix of curiosity and concern. She carefully places the cart by the wall, trying not to disrupt the intense exchange happening before us.

"Oliver, Juniper, why don't you two go and plan for the evening?" Mr. Romanov's voice cuts through the tension, signaling that he desires a private conversation with Ryan, or rather, the persona Ryan has adopted.

As we step out of the room, my mind races with questions. Is Ryan really right about Mr. Romanov's true agenda? The President Baranow angle was a clever ruse, but it's clear there are deeper secrets at play here. Holly and I share a knowing look, making our way quickly to my room down the hallway, where we can listen in on the conversation, Thanks to the bug Holly places on the cart.

*Ryan*

Alone with Mr. Romanov, I take a deep breath, trying to gauge the situation. This is the moment I've been waiting for… a chance to uncover Mr. Romanov's true intentions. To prove I am right. But I have to tread carefully, like a cat stalking its prey.

"I must say, Monsieur Romanov, the situation in France is quite precarious, like yours in Russia" I begin, testing the waters. "I often wish I had more support to truly make a difference in my country. Like the Americans and Brits helping me grab power."

Mr. Romanov nods, his expression unreadable. I can feel the weight of his gaze on me, as if he's trying to unravel my own motives. I need to keep up the act, make him believe that I am who I say I am… a French nationalist with a mission. Someone he can trust.

"Tell me, Monsieur, do you believe in the power of alliances?" I ask, hoping to steer the conversation towards his own alliances and allegiances. It's a delicate dance, one misstep could reveal my true intentions. “One hand washes the other.”

Mr. Romanov's response is measured, cryptic. I can sense that he's testing me, trying to discern if I'm useful for him. I need to play my cards right, earn his trust without giving away my own hand.

As the conversation unfolds, I realize that this is a game of wits, a battle of minds. Mr. Romanov is not a stupid man by any means, his every word laced with hidden meaning. But I am determined to unravel his secrets, to expose the truth that lies beneath his carefully crafted facade. And as I continue to engage him in conversation, I know that the key to unlocking the mystery may lie in the subtle nuances of our exchange.

Mr. Romanov makes a motion towards the cart with refreshments, “I apologize that here is no one to serve us, but I thought it best to speak in private.”

I nod in agreement. "No problem, and please allow me ," I say, getting up and moving towards the cart to pour some drinks, my mind trying to find the right questions to ask.

The door suddenly swings open, and there stands Karolina. My heart skips a beat… Oh f**k me in the ear. I distinctly remember Sebastian promising that she was out sightseeing and shopping for the day.

Karolina fixes her gaze on me and simply utters, "You."

Mr. Romanov turns his attention to Karolina, his expression inquisitive as he asks, "How do you know Mr. Blanchard, sweetheart?"

Karolina's voice is firm as she responds, "He's the one who stole my necklace and kidnapped me."