Mission Impossible: Royal Deception

Chapter 3

Gala

The hotel suite buzzed with quiet intensity as Jeanna, Tom, and Simon gathered around the table, reviewing the final details of their plan. Spread before them were the gala's blueprints, security details, and a layout of the hotel.

"We'll split up once we're inside," Tom said, tracing a route on the floor plan. "Simon will set up in the security room, while we locate the informant without drawing attention. If things go south, the rendezvous point is here, rooftop, where a helicopter would be waiting for us."

He paused, looking up. "Our informant is a guy named Morales. Mid-40s, average build, dark hair, usually wears a dark suit-nothing too flashy. He's been keeping a low profile lately, but he's well-connected. We need to get close without making him nervous. Any questions?"

Jeanna glanced at Tom, then back at Simon. "No, I think we're clear on everything," she said. "We'll get in, get the intel, and get out."

Tom nodded. "Let's just hope Morales doesn't get cold feet."

Tom stood up first, offering a slight nod as if to reassure them that everything would go as planned. Simon, ever the one to lighten the mood, gave a quick, playful salute before turning toward the door.

"We've got this," he said with a small smile, as he opened the door and stepped out.

Tom lingered for a moment longer, his gaze lingering on Jeanna, as though he wanted to say something more, but instead, he simply said, "You alright?" he asked, his voice quiet.

She looked at him for a long moment. "Yeah, just tired."

Tom gave her a small nod. "Get some rest. Tomorrow's big."

With that, he followed Simon out, leaving Jeanna alone in her room.

the room seemed to grow quieter, and Jeanna stood still for a moment, staring at the empty space they had just left. She had been in this position before-alone, right before a mission-but somehow, it felt heavier this time. Maybe it was the years of doing this, the years of slipping in and out of roles, pretending to be someone else while never really feeling like herself.

She walked over to the window, gazing out at the city below, the lights flickering in the distance. A deep sigh escaped her lips. She wasn't weak-she never allowed herself to be. But there was something undeniably isolating about always being the one who stayed strong, always shouldering the weight of duty without letting it crack her exterior.

And Tom... There was always Tom. His presence had been a constant, their bond unshakable through everything. Yet, even with him beside her, there was a part of her that felt... disconnected, as if she was still searching for something she couldn't quite grasp. She wasn't sure if she was sad about the mission or about the fact that no matter how close they were, she always felt just a little alone.

Jeanna shook her head, pushing the thoughts aside. Tomorrow, she does what she's always done. She will get it done. But the truth lingered, unspoken, just beneath the surface.

The next morning, the team prepared for the mission. Jeanna slipped into her gown, her mind focused on the task ahead. Tom and Simon waited outside her door. When she finally emerged, dressed for the occasion, the hallway grew silent. Tom couldn't help but stare for a brief second. He had always admired her, but there was something different tonight. The mission, their history-it all seemed to hang in the air between them.

Simon, always quick to break the tension, grinned. "Well, let's hope the crowd is as captivated by us as I am."

Tom gave a brief nod, his gaze lingering on Jeanna for a moment longer before they made their way downstairs. The trio stepped outside, and the hotel staff greeted them with subtle recognition, ushering them into the waiting van.