Fragmented Lies

Chapter 3: The Mask is Dropped

A/N: So yeah things get a bit heated here, and I really hope that I manage to get the action sequences right, so they make sense. Do note that I know NOTHING about weapons and firearms or any sort of tactics the CIA uses. So all this is purely from my imagination. AND the locations are fictive and I know nothing about distance between places I mention.

AND you're lucky I chose to be "nice" and post this as a whole chapter, a fair warning of a cliffhanger at the middle of the chapter, and a smaller one in the end. But this is a Bond inspired fic so hope you can live with the action and cliffhangers. Enjoy

Thanks to Snowbellewells for beta reading for me.

Chapter 3: The mask is dropped

Emma reluctantly kept her arm tucked under Neal's, the trickle of fear slipping down her spine kept her senses alert. The room they entered was a fairly large bar room, with a poker table at its center. Several men were getting ready for a game to begin, as servers passed around drinks for the players. One empty seat was still open in the game so Emma tugged on Neal's arm and whispered, "Are you joining the game there?"

"No," he scoffed, shaking his head, "I would not have the one mill pay-in to join that game."

Emma gaped at him, "Did you just say one mill? As in one million American dollars?" She remembered to blink vigorously, attempting to look a little ditzy.

Neal grinned and verified, "As in one million dollars." He nodded to the bar, "Let's go grab a drink, it seems as if my father hasn't joined the party yet."

"Oh," Emma scanned the room, and sure enough, she couldn't see the man she'd only seen in the few images of the Croc the CIA had in their files. She vaguely paid attention to Neal ordering them some drinks, but her eyes kept searching the room. She could see Gaston had shown Belle to a table close to the empty seat at the poker game. So they were all waiting for the Croc.

Suddenly, her intercom crackled, and the voice of Nemo said in her ear, "Keep your head clear, and make sure to move around a bit more so we get a full view of the room and who's in there." Emma made a slow swirl with her bar stool that luckily had a swiveling seat so it would only appear as if she was shifting restlessly from side to side.

When Neal offered her a drink, she plastered on a big fake smile and blinked, "So what happens now?" She nodded to the game about to begin, "Will they play until one man wins it all?"

"Do you know how to play?"

"Oh heavens no," she tittered, shaking her head, "I could never keep the different cards right." She took a gulp of her drink while still looking at the poker table.

"Oh, my father is here," Neal suddenly said, and Emma turned in the direction he pointed. At the farthest wall, a door opened and a man dressed in some very flamboyant dark burgundy colored jacket and waistcoat entered the room with a flourish.

"Dearies, did you all miss me so terribly?" The man practically glided up to the poker table, and a server pulled out his chair for him. Several of the other players greeted the man with smiles ranging from genuine to fake, and even a few hateful smiles. Emma just hoped that the tech guy in the van outside could pinpoint who was in the room tonight.

"Let me just go over and talk with my father," Neal interrupted her thoughts, making her jump in her seat.

Emma nodded and watched the man walk over to Gold, a father who was one of the most wanted men on this planet. Neal stepped up to his father just as the Crock placed his pay-in on the table. The multiple stacks of chips on the table was staggering; there were six players in total, so that would make it six million dollars that would shift owners tonight.