A thought of mingling among the high society made David nervous, to say the least. He hadn't been this nervous since his first raid in North Africa with the SAS almost a year ago. David had felt calm as they had been flown from Camp Toccoa to New York. Colonel Clarke had stayed in the camp, while Hanks had come with them, only to disappear after they had come to New York a few days ago. They had been given a very spacious, almost luxurious apartment to prepare their disguises and aliases. At least it was better than anything David could afford on his officer's pay check.

And the big night had come. The team was preparing, and each of them had been given a proper alias. David's alias was quite simple; he'd pose as a Marine officer from New York, a Captain named David Rogers. He was dressed in the Marine uniform.

Belasý had been assigned as his avec to the party. David didn't really know what to think of her. She was the quietest of the team, and that would have alarming in a normal recruit or soldier, but no one of them was exactly normal. She clearly had baggege with her.

The party would take place in a six storey hotel in Manhattan, named the Golden Fleece, after the Greek mythology. It was said to be one of the best hotels in the City, and it was famed for its elegant restaurant and great customer service. The reception, the restaurant and a big ballroom were situated in the ground floor, while the rest of the floors were reserved for the hotel's guests.

The hotel itself was mostly built from smooth red bricks and had rooms for two hundred people. The ballroom could fit about one hundred fifty people easily and leave some room to maneuver. As far as David knew, there were going to be almost a hundred people invited to the party. It made looking for a spy difficult, but as Hanks had assured, there would be a few FBI agents undercover for assistance.

The party would start at seven o'clock with some Champagne and speeches, as far as David knew. The hotel's Champagne must cost a fortune, David thought. The objective was to stay near the Senator and to look after him. Just in case the spy took his chance at his life.

---

Hasso Steiner was also preparing for the evening in his apartment. For the past few days, he had been practising and preparing for this evening. He would go to the party as a import and export agent named Franklin House of the Universal Exports. It was a shell company, of course, and there wasn't a Franklin House. Well, not anymore. Franklin House had been a single man with not much family, and he had been a very reclusive person, until Hasso had killed him and asssumed his identity. Hasso could mimic other people, but he had to meet and talk to them first, so he could mimic their way of speech and mannerisms, every little detail and posture.

The shell company had bought an invitation to the party, and Hasso was ordered to go the party and kill George Kellermann. He was to kill Senator Emmerich, if an oppurtunity rose, but it wasn't necessery. His contact's had provided the last details to the mission.

It was time. Hasso started to morph into Franklin House. House had been a tall and thin man, almost ghoulish figure with black hair and blue eyes. A real pen pusher. It always tickled when Hasson morphed into a new person, and it took some time, but in the end, it was easy for him.

Franklin House dressed in his best suit, took an umbrella, and left the building.

Johnathan took a deep breath to try and quell his rising nerves as he gazed at himself in the mirror. This hadn't been the first time that he had gone to an event held by the upper crust of society; His father was a highly respected, highly successful doctor and decorated medical veteran of the first world war so he was often invited to such events and normally bringing ones family was expected.

This would be his first time going to an event as Chaplain Harker of Utah, on loan from the armed forces in order to try and mingle with the upper crust of New York (and try and convince some of them to invest in war bonds). It wasn't the most creative of covers of course, but it was a role that Johnathan believed he could pull off; He wouldn't need to make an extensive cover story since most of what he was going with was himself... just with enough tweaks that no one would find his presence too out of place and since he was a Chaplain of the Church of Latter Day Saints and not from one of the more mainstream sects of Christianity he was less likely to be called out on not knowing the doctrine to the extent normally required.

Besides, the Harker name was known in certain circles due to his father's military history and his elder brother's budding career in politics, he didn't see any harm in attempting to use that to his advantage.

Izkry fussed with his cuffs, making a face at his sister as she straightened his bowtie. He hated suits, absolutely loathed them, and the stiff collar and tailored clothes made him uncomfortable. Belasý brushed his hands down and smoothed his hair. He didn't really need a cover identity, as he was working as waitstaff, but he would be answering to Isaak Meyer for the duration of the event.

"You going to be okay, Bel?" he asked softly. She was going to be on her own, in a crowd, under a false persona, having to work closely with someone else. This wasn't a battle, a place where she could shove everything else aside with the need to stand or die. This was espionage, infiltration. They'd received a very little training for that, years ago. She more than him -- her power over water made her a candidate to be the perfect assassin, someone who might fill her target's lungs until they suffocated and then drain the water away with no one the wiser.

The young woman examined her reflection in the mirror. She'd let Maria help pick her dress, going with a floor length, close fitting piece in a deep blue that approached black and brought out the intense hue of her eyes. The modest neck, short draped sleeves, waterfall design sarong skirt, and long, clean lines flattered her long limbs and curved figure. She'd added simple makeup, and curled her hair and pinned it up, though one curl shadowed the side of her face in a way that evoked her usual peek-a-boo bangs style. A simple beaded bracelet, stud earrings, gray gloves, and matching pumps completed the outfit. Mentally preparing herself, she turned to Izkry and nodded. "I will do this," she told him softly, walking over to kiss his cheek. "Stay safe."

"You as well, Bel." He let his concern show clearly for a moment longer, then offered her his arm with an air of pompous formality. "If I might escort Ms. Elisabeth Carleton to her date for the evening?" He couldn't quite keep a straight face, and as Belasý placed her hand in the crook of his arm he broke into a playful grin.

She chuckled softly. He never let anything get him down, and she admired that. For the moment, she focused on keeping her gait smooth and her manner in keeping with the British heiress she was posing as for the event. Captain Stevens -- Captain David Rogers, she reminded herself -- was already waiting. She inclined her head politely, even going so far as to meet his eyes for a moment. The charade started now, and Bel worried that if she let her mask slip for a moment she wouldn't be able to recover it. It had been years since her undercover training, and it had been rudimentary at best. This was the real thing.

"All right", David said to himself, as he stood in front of the bathroom mirror. He heard a knock from the apartment door, and went to open it. Hanks was behind it. "Does it suit well, sir? The Bureau had to approximate the size", the ghoulish Hanks asked. He had a simple suit with three buttons on him and a wide brimmed hat.

"As well as ever, thank you. Come in, everybody's almost ready", David replied. "Anything new on the front?"

"Not much, I'm afraid," Hanks answered, taking his hat off while walking inside. "There will be a couple taxis coming in about fifteen minutes to take us to the Golden Fleece, so it is better to hurry anything you people are doing. We might take a few minutes to talk with the troops of the facts and plans."

David nodded. There was a living room in the apartment. "Team", he said with a loud voice, making sure the others heard him in apartment's rooms. "Form up in the living room." Damn, that sounds too much like a military talk, David thought.