"The Syndicate," Benji explained, "is a rogue nation, dedicated to doing what we do. They take out threats, but work as mercenaries, rather than for any government. So the threats aren't necessarily threats to good people. They are threats to rich people."

"So we need to bring them down. Got it, Benji," Ethan said, "The question is how."

Benji nodded. "Right. We know very little about the organization as it is now, but we do know some of its origin story. Originally, the Syndicate was part of the KGB and worked closely with something called the Red Room. I can find no information whatsoever on the Red Room. At some point, probably when the Soviet Union fell, the Syndicate's leadership broke off and started working freelance, not unlike many of the individuals who once worked for the KGB. After that, information gets messy. The Syndicate does not public take credit for its jobs, so at best, we can guess."

"We need to find out more," Jane said irritably.

"Yes," Benji sighed, "but how? I've scoured databases and every last corner of the internet. There's nothing."

"We need a contact," Will Brandt observed.

Ethan Hunt nodded. "I can reach out to some of my KGB contacts, but there's no guarantee they know anything."

"I know someone."

Everyone turned to look at Brandt.

"I know someone who used to be part of the Red Room. She'll help us."

"Well, contact her," Hunt ordered.

Brandt nodded and pulled out his phone. "Barton strike-delta," he said after a moment, "Put me through to Romanoff."

He hung up and turned back to his team. "She'll call back on a secure line."

"So who is this woman?" Jane asked, trying to restrain her emotions. It was a long shot that Brandt had anything going on with this woman, but Jane was not one to take chances. She knew what she wanted, and that was William Brandt.

Brandt did not answer right away. Instead, he appeared to be thinking over his answer. "She's an old colleague from my field agent days. Oh, and she might know me by a different name. Clint Barton."

"Clint Barton," Ethan Hunt repeated. "All right, can we trust her?"

"I trust her with my life," Brandt replied.

Jane tried to suppress the twinge of jealousy she felt. Brandt trusts them with his life too, she reminded herself, he trusts me.

"Before she calls, I can tell you what I know about the Red Room," Brandt began hesitantly, "I doubt she'll want to share."

Hunt frowned. "What do you know?"

"It was a science experiment, basically. Some asshole KGB fuckers kidnapped young girls and tried to turn them into super-assassins. Some of their work was based off of the super soldier serum from the 1940s, and I'm pretty sure they worked with Hydra at some point. I don't know all the details, but I know it worked fairly well. Once the girls were trained, it turned into a Hunger Games situation, and the last one standing got the name the Black Widow."

"So this Romanoff, she worked with them?" Benji asked curiously.

"No," Brandt said sharply. Then he took a deep breath, and the team watched him calm down before their eyes. "She's the Black Widow."

Jane and Benji both gasped.

"You're telling me," Ethan said, with his voice dangerously low, "That you know the most dangerous assassin in the world, and you never once saw fit to mention it."

"She's not our enemy anymore," Brandt started, then paused. "And she's calling me now."

He answered the phone.

"Lovely weather in Budapest." He seemed to wait for the correct response, and when he got it, he explained the situation. "My IMF team is after the Syndicate. . . that's the one. And I know you have information from the KGB side. . . No? Could you reach out to one of your contacts then? . . . You know which one I'm talking about. The one who won't kill you. . . Nat, we're desperate. We need Alexei, if you won't help. . . Thank you. I'll talk to you soon. Bye."

Brandt turned back to his team. "This mission hits too close to home. Natasha already dismantled the Red Room and doesn't want anything else to do with it. She gave me the number of someone else who will help. Alexei Boreyev. He was a military man in the Soviet army and basically acted as liaison between the USSR and the Red Room. We need to video call him. Benji, call this number on the big screen."

Ethan Hunt watched his teammate seriously. He had never seen Brandt take charge like this. It seemed almost like he had a personal vendetta against the Syndicate. And he had all of this information and these contacts that he had never even hinted at before. Hunt knew Brandt kept secrets, but this seemed to go deep. He did not get in the way, though; Ethan wanted to see where Brandt was going with this.

"When the call goes through, let me start. He should know who I am," Brandt announced, interrupting Ethan's analysis.

IMF's view of Boreyev appeared first, and they watched the man stare confusedly at the screen for a few moments. Boreyev sat at a formal desk with a large portrait of himself and a redhead woman on the wall behind him. The only other noticable features of the room were a small liquor cabinets and some unmarked files on the desk. Boreyev himself appeared to be a clean-shaven high-ranking soldier of middle age.

"Who is this?" he snapped in Russian, then blinked a few times as the image of the IMF team appeared on his screen. "Why are you calling me?"

Brandt stepped forward so he would be the most prominent figure in the picture. "I assumed you know who I am?"

Boreyev narrowed his eyes. "I will never forget that face, Clint Barton. You stole my wife from me."

Brandt sighed. "I didn't steal her. She chose to defect from your crackpot country."

"Natalia loved Russia. You brainwashed her."

"No, that was you," Brandt snapped. "But that's not what I'm calling to talk to you about."

"I will not help you, and I will not betray my country," Boreyev retorted.

Brandt grinned. "I'm not asking you to betray anyone. Natasha -"

"That is not her name!"

"That is the name she chose. But fine, Natalia said you would help. We're after the Syndicate, not you. We have a common enemy," Brandt explained.

Boreyev sat still for a moment. "You spoke to Natalia?"

"She gave me this number."

Boreyev sighed. "What do you want from me?'

Ethan Hunt stepped into the shot.

"This is my team leader, Ethan Hunt, he can explain our mission to you," Brandt said.

Boreyev raised an eyebrow. "You and Natalia are no longer a team? What happened to Strike Team Delta?"

"It's complicated," Brandt said shortly. "Now Ethan will explain what we need."

As Ethan asked about the Sydicate, Brandt went to his bag and pulled out a miniature bottle of vodka. He didn't offer any to Benji or Jane, who was right beside him, but drank the entire thing in one gulp. None of them spoke until Ethan and Alexei Boreyev finished their conversation.

"Brandt, you have a lot of explaining to do," Hunt said as soon as the screen went dark.

Brandt nodded. "I know."

"But first, the mission, should we choose to accept it, is to overtake the Syndicate headquarters. They cover their tracks well and hide in plain sight. You should recognize the name Jacqueline Maddock."

The team nodded. Maddock was one of the richest women in the world, and she had often appeared on IMF's radar. Under the umbrella of philanthropy and business enterprises, Maddock ran several underground smuggling and human trafficking rings.

"She's part of the Syndicate, probably in a leadership position. We seem to have underestimated her in the past. She's having a large Syndicate meeting in one month under the guise of a fundraiser. Of course, the Syndicate leaders do not all know each other, so nobody should question some unfamiliar faces. That being said, security is tight, and we can't let them know we're coming. That means their security measure must remain in place."

"Well, that sounds pretty impossible, but impossible is our job," Jane said with a grin, "What's our goal?"

"First, we need to gather intel. We'll send one person in to hack the computers. Benji. Another will need to take out Maddock and her closest associates. That will probably actually take two. That will be Jane and I. Brandt will stand guard and make sure we can carry out our goals."

"No way, Ethan," Benji said. "I can't go in there."

"You have to. We have to get the intel."

"But then who will watch your back and run backup?" Benji replied.

Ethan shrugged his shoulders. "That's why Brandt will have to be our lookout."

Brandt snorted. "A lookout might work when a couple of third-graders are trying to pull a prank on the teacher, but not in a situation like this. We need another hacker."

Hunt frowned. "We can't trust anyone but ourselves."

"I can get Natasha Romanoff to join us. Just for this one mission," Brandt offered.

Jane spoke up, "I thought she was the Black Widow, an assassin, not a hacker."

"She's a jack of all trades," Brandt answered. "She can do this."

"We really have no other choice, Ethan," Benji pleaded to his team leader, "there's no way we'll make it if we don't have someone on the outside."

Ethan sighed. "I want to meet her before we decide anything. I know you said you trust her, Will, but I don't trust anyone outside this room right now."

Brandt nodded. "Understood. I'll call her, and where would you like to meet her?"

"Not on our turf, somewhere neutral," Jane proposed.

"There's a great Italian place in D.C. we both know," Brandt suggested. "She can meet us there tomorrow."

"All right, ask her," Ethan ordered.

!

"Clint! Or shall I call you Will?"

Clint embraced the beautiful woman. She sat with her back to the wall, facing the door to the restaurant, but kept the kitchen doors within her line of sight as well. Her face was hardened and she let no expression through. He stance was decidedly military, so Ethan did not immediately recognize her as the woman from the picture on Boreyev's wall.

"Nat, this is Ethan Hunt. Ethan, this is Natasha Romanoff," Brandt made formal introductions, then sat down next to the Black Widow.

Ethan did not like the seating arrangement. Romanoff took the seat he would have chosen, and Brandt took the next best. Across from them, he could not see the entrance clearly. But since Benji and Jane were just across the street, he accepted it.

"I already ordered," Romanoff said, ignoring small talk altogether. She did not say what she had ordered.

"Fine."

"So we need your help with the Syndicate," Brandt said, breaking through the momentary tension.

"And here I thought we were just meeting to catch up," she answered drily. "Also, no. I'm busy."

"With Cap, I know, but we really need you. He can take care of himself for a few days," Brandt argued.

She rolled her eyes. "You don't know him as well as I do."

"Nat, I need your help."

"What do you want from me?" she asked.

"We plan to-" Hunt was interrupted by the waiter bring food.

Ethan had to admit that the pasta carbonara was some of the best he had ever had. He noticed that the Black Widow had ordered herself fettucini alfredo and Brandt some unrecognizable meat dish. She seemed to know exactly what they would have ordered for themselves.

"Take down the Syndicate," he finished after the waiter had left. "The first step is to take out Jacqueline Maddock and gather intel. She's hosting an event next month that is the perfect opportunity for us. That's all we're asking your help for. We can handle it from there."

He laid out a more detailed plan, and Natasha Romanoff reacted in no way.

When Ethan Hunt had finished his explanation, she said simply. "No."

"No? I thought you said you would help?"

"I will help. I meant, no, you are wrong. You will not be able to handle it from there. This goes much deeper than Alexei knows. He did not lie to you, but you are unprepared to handle the full extent of the Syndicate."

Ethan could not resist a glance at Brandt, who appeared to ignore the conversation and was enjoying his food. Ethan knew, however, that appearances could be deceiving, especially when it came to William Brandt.