Desperate times, desperate measures (mission impossible 6)

Four ~ It's not completely mental... is it?

Miles POV:

DAD CAME forward, holding a big binder folder sort of thing and dumped it on the small, stand up table at the side of the plane. His expression didn't look best pleased, most likely because the tall Dwight guy (as I'd fittingly nicknamed him) had been approved and made to come with us on this one.

"The white widow, has spies in every level of the government. Therefore, this plane is posing as a commercial airliner allowing us to jump into France, undetected." Dad said, somewhat aggressively.

"Here we go." I muttered. I'd already heard the briefing but we had to hold it again for the sake of the Walker guy. He just nodded and agreed in the right places like he couldn't be bothered to listen.

"Sorry, who's this?" Walker asked, pointing to me. "I didn't notice him before. I thought this was adult's work?"

I gritted my teeth and tried my absolute hardest not to give him a filthy gesture that I'd made one too many times before. "That's my son. He is authorised to be here just like you so Walker you shut it and listen to your leader!" Dad snapped. Walker just rolled his eyes and crossed his arms, weight shifting to his other leg, a bemused smile spreading across his lips. I wanted to slap him so hard that even google maps wouldn't be able to find him but I knew I couldn't otherwise I'd jeopardise the mission standing and have myself removed and quite possibly discharged and arrested for assault. Dad continued on about Lark and the widow at the grand Palais.

"Nobody gets in without a pre issued electronic ID band. We have the number for Lark's band allowing us to locate and track him with the use of these." Dad said, holding up two mobile tracking devices (basically just regular cell phones but tracking devices sound cooler don't you think?).

"So in essence then. Find that ID band, you've got yourself a Lark?" I added, jumping down off the box built into the wall that I'd previously been perched on. Dad nodded and Walker faced me, case file in hand.

"You really are smarter than you look. Seems your not an average teenage kid then." He said, smiling sickly.

"Yes, I am mate. Glad you're morally surprised to know that." I seethed, walking over to him and snatching the file out of his hands. Skimming over it, I saw the wrist band ID code, a layout map of the grand Palais and photo of a woman (presumably the white widow) accompanied by a man.

"Manners could use some work though." He mused.

"Well we're all adults here so I'm sure we'll figure that out in due course." I waved a hand lazily. "Oh and if you want to insult me, you're going to have to try a bit harder than that sunshine." I added with a smirk.

"What happens after then?" Walker asked.

"After? Weren't you listening tough guy?" I laughed low and hoarse, much to his in amusement.

"After, we make a mask. I assume his identity and the white widow leads us to the plutonium then when we're done, you walk the real Lark out the front door and hand him over to Sloane's extraction team." Dad clarified, waving his hands round for extra enthusiasm and understanding.

"Simples! Easy peasy lemon squeezy!" I said, amusement coating my tone.

"No it's not actually, lil' guy. Because how to we intend to make Lark cooperate while your oaf of a father simply borrows his face?" He sniped.

"Okay first of all, if we're to get along, don't call me lil' guy I'm just as much a part of this as you are and secondly, that's how we'll make him talk." I gestured at Dad who was standing with a needle between his thumb and forefinger.