Chapter Text
Opening the letter, it detailed the most important event of the entire mission. The grandiose gala that Michael and Alex were expected to attend for charity. Except, something about it didn’t seem as though it would be a charity event.
It had both of them worried. Jon had been practicing his accent in both the mirror and his chats with Jordan while they slowly got ready and thought of a plan.
“ ‘ow weird is it to randomly get a lettah on the floor of his apartment? We’re there for maybe two or three hours looking for anything… is it a trap?” Jon said, worried as he glanced out the window, the lights reflecting off the mirror.
Jordan looked at him, “I dunno. It seems suspicious to me, but maybe they’re just thinking that the two of us are them? I mean, we look similar enough to them that it wouldn't cause anything weird to happen, right?” He said, tapping a pen on a small piece of paper with messy handwriting scrawled along it. “…Unless someone found the actual Michael and Alex, but they’d have to be purposefully doing that, and I’m pretty sure Dad had the DOD and police deal with that..”
“We’re pretending to be an Aussie and a New Yorker, Jordan. I don’t think we’re really cut out for it. Besides, I haven’t heard any sort of accent comin’ off of you.”
“Because New Yorkers aren’t just the stereotypical ‘I’m walkin’ here!’ people, Jon! A lot of ‘em don’t even have accents. Be for real.”
Jon rolled his eyes, “Yeah, yeah you have a point. Ugh, why did Dad have to give me the hard accent to do? Why couldn’t we have pretended to be cops or something with less embarrassment on the line?”
“Oh c’mon! Half the fun is pretending to be the target and getting the info and solving the mystery.”
“Oh my god, you sound like Mom!”
Jordan gasped dramatically, “You take that back!”
“Nuh-uh. Not unless you start acting like Jordan and not Mom.” Jon said, combing his hair and tying the tie around his neck.
He was thankfully lucky that there was a suit the right size for him (somehow)…
Now that he took a moment to think, there were so many… weird coincidences.
Jon knew they were likely from the DoD snooping around the place before they did, but that didn’t explain the suit being the right size, the bottle of cologne being the right size for travel, or even the extra empty travel bottle with a similar spray mechanism to the cologne sitting there next to it, most likely having a secondary use.
Jon filled up the unmarked bottle with water from the sink for a moment, then he pressed lightly down on the trigger— a few spritzing noises followed by water droplets. He shrugged, this would work. Definitely.
He took the tiny vial of Knockout and placed it on the counter next to the sink.
This was real. He was preparing this for real.
He took a moment and rubbed the water from the sink onto his hands after turning on the tap. Then he rubbed his face. This was happening. This is what hero work was.
And why would Dad let them be spies? Neither of them were ready for a mission like this so soon and so early into their careers. Why let two kids pretend to know what they’re doing with little to no knowledge of the system or the etiquette? They had never done a spy mission before. They had no training.
He took the vial, pouring it into the small spray bottle. Then he marked it similarly to the cologne bottle sitting in his breast pocket already.
Best to not get these confused.
He thought to himself as he stuck the similar bottle into the breast pocket with the small vial of cologne that acted as his cover.
He fiddled with the tie again.
Every game he had in Metropolis, they had to have a button-up and a tie for the school day before leaving. He never managed to get it those first few times, and had to either have Mom or Dad tie it for him. That was kind of embarrassing, but it still happened. Then he learned. He learned how to do it and the face his parents made when he did it right the first time he still remembered to this day. Pure beaming.
Jordan always struggled with his tie though, and Jon knew it wouldn’t change today so he grabbed his brother’s tie and looped it into the knot and tightened it without a word being said by either of them.
Look at them now. From tying ties to filling bottles with substances and packing their bag full of tech and goodies. He eyed the hidden safe behind the false wall and silently hoped it would be fine. He had to hold onto hope.
“Hey, is this working?” A buzzing voice said, coming over the intercom in the twins’ ears. Nat, coming in clutch. As they expected. “Jon and Jordan, you better not be ignoring me after you asked for my help here.” She said after a long silence.
‘Ah, no no, sorry Nat. We were just thinking about tonight. I’m kind of nervous about this whole charity gala thing with the assassins who slimed out Michael and Alex still on the loose and could be at this place tonight.” Jordan said with a quiet inflection in his tone.
Nat took a moment before responding. “I get it, but you both have powers. They didn’t, do you think they know you’re filling in for them to get answers and have planned so quickly to intercept you?’
They looked at each other as Nat’s voice continued through their ears. “No, I guess not.” Jon finally admitted as he nodded to Jordan. ‘Maybe we can find enough evidence, too. A quick in and out tonight.”
“Jon, I doubt that that’s gonna work, but maybe?” Jordan said with a small gulp.
“Well, we have to try.” He said to his brother as the two piled into the truck. It’d be too risky to fly there, with windswept hair and a loose tie being key details someone would notice almost immediately.
Jon put the key into the ignition and soon the two drove off towards the location of the ballroom, understanding the gravity of the situation.
After a solid ten minutes, the two switched into Michael’s car, something fancy and clean. Something to be expected for a major politician and his bodyguard to be driving around in. It had a larger exterior, probably being hidden padding to absorb the potential momentum from bullets or other projectiles. The glass too, bulletproof, they guessed, with how thick it looked when they used their x-ray vision.
With a quick 15-minute drive, the two hopped out of the car, giving the keys to the valet driver dressed in the same crimson coloration of the letter’s ink. This all seemed planned. Jon took his last things out of the glove compartment, understanding that it might be examined and he wouldn’t want them to catch any sort of whiff about them snooping around this place.
And then, they entered.