Chapter Text
An easy mission. Two weeks in and out, tops. Not much risk, except of getting antsy after a few days hanging around the office, swinging a camera in people's face and asking questions he didn't care about to men and women he'd never see again. A target that had been described as "the easiest mark he'd ever seen" by Luther.
Ethan Hunt gave himself five extra minutes in bed, that morning. There was no need to rush.
The wind was blowing in icy gusts as Ethan walked up the steps from the closest subway station, the bag of equipment heavy on his shoulder.
Daniel Aubrey, 49, documentary filmmaker hired by the highly cheerful PR department of Pegasi, the world's third largest net giant. Hired to make a movie that reflected the brand's progressive, socially conscious values, and its friendly image. It was, after all, the perfect brand for the new millennium, and its connected youth that made Ethan feel both old and slightly resentful. What not to like about Pegasi? Everyone had one of their devices. Their ads were fun. Its CEO had just pledged 10 million to the fight against climate change. They'd come out of their latest Congressional hearing mostly unscathed. And what where their detractors going to do? Use Yahoo? Pegasi had already won.
They hadn't needed to tell him that if he wasn't the one who made the movie that showed the world how fun the company's culture was, how happy its employees were, how its only concern was the betterment of humanity by technology, the they would find someone who would.
Ethan arrived at the monumental glass entrance, and waited at the reception for someone to take him upstairs. The office was massive, with ping pong tables on every floor, smoothie bars on the 10th, 50th and 80th floor, 5 complementary cafeteria and a Michelin starred restaurant with a panoramic view just below the CEO's office on the 85th, just as advertised in the brochure an eager intern had handed him at the door.
What wasn't advertised was the miles of server rooms below the ground, cooled by the water of the nearby Hudson and holding data worth more than the GDP of several nations. Combined. More data than any government had, more data than the IMF could dream of. But he wasn't there for the always shrinking privacy of Pegasi's innumerable customers, or partners, as they insisted on calling them, or the questionable way they ensured their continued supply in the rare earth elements so essential for electronics, and so unfortunately produced in countries with less than stellar records for human rights, environmental rights, press rights. Any case of rights, really.
He was there because they had a leak.
The elevator dinged, Ethan went in, and pressed the button to the 79th floor. A leak, the first in Pegasi's history. At least, as far as they knew. And they didn't know nearly as much as they should for Ethan's taste. Even more strangely, the whistleblower hadn't put their data up on the internet, for anyone to see, or given it to journalists that would open the story wide. They'd sent it to the IMF, directly. An agency that did not exist, that no one but the very few at the very top of the government and its counterparts in the shadows of the laws knew about. Of course, absolute secrecy was not possible. But getting an email to the Secretary's office, with a polite note and just enough data to make the retrieval of more intelligence an immediate priority was less secrecy that they thought they had. And they were good. No one had been able to trace the email, or find any valuable info about their identity. Whoever they were, they were better with computers than the entire IMF.
The door opened, letting in a gaggle of casually dressed thirty something men and women. Ethan greeted them with a smile. It could be any of them. The woman with the cropped blue hair and the Motley Crüe t-shirt, smiling as she texted away on her phone. The guy with the black bags under his eyes, gulping what could not be his first coffee.
Not that it mattered much to his mission. He was only there to get the rest of the intel, but it didn't stop him from being curious.
The elevator slowly emptied, before reaching his destination. A high floor for high ranking employees. Employees that may have access to the data he was looking for.
The proof that Pegasi was selling human rights activists' data to governments in exchange for contracts. The proof that it had a lucrative side business based on their complicity with brutal regimes. The proof that it had willingly delivered families to be tortured and executed.
He left the elevator and walked along a glass corridor, until he'd reached the office in the corner. His mark.
He took a breath, and knocked on the door.
No answer.
He knocked again, waited a few seconds, and peered through the glass wall.
There definitely was someone at the desk. Someone who was ignoring him.
He knocked again, louder, and went in without bothering to wait for an answer.
The man was asleep on his keyboard, at 11 am on a Monday morning, softly snoring next to a dirty, half-empty coffee mug.
Well, at least his intel was correct. Benji Dunn, 42, senior data engineer. He'd been reprimanded five time in the past two years for tardiness, negligence, and theft of office supplies. Or more exactly, theft of a high-end coffeemaker from the VP's lounge, which he'd installed in his own office. Ethan had to admire the gall. As far as he could tell, he had no relationships, no hobbies beyond video games and, if the angry note on his last performance review was to be believed, no future in this company.
Ethan picked up his tripod, and let it fall to the floor in a loud, metallic clanking.
Dunn jumped to his feet, sending the coffee in his mug flying all over his shirt.
"Fuck!"
He patted at the stain with a tissue, and looked at Ethan, an annoyed look on his face.
He was handsome, Ethan noted. A short blond beard, much better kept than his clothes, clear blue eyes and a mouth that he wanted to see smiling.
"I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to startle you," Ethan said, giving Dunn his best, most shining grin.
His t-shirt was crumpled, as if he'd slept in in, and his hoodie was fraying at the edges. Even by the lax standards of Pegasi, he looked more like someone who had wandered in after a night of binging than a senior employee.
Befriend Dunn. Gain his confidence. Steal his access to the data, gather whatever he could, and get out. This would be easier than he thought. He nearly felt bad about it.
"Not your fault. I really shouldn't have finished that level yesterday night. Or this morning, actually."
Ethan laughed. Was Dunn hoping to get fired?
"You must..." Dunn started, before yawning. "You must be the documentary guy."
"Exactly. Daniel Aubrey," Ethan said, reaching out for a handshake.
Dunn hugged him instead.
He didn't have the same annoyed, tired look as before. There was something else in his eyes, a glimmer of energy Ethan didn't know what to make of.
"Nice to meet you, Danny. Can I call you Danny?"
Ethan was about to answer when Dunn cut him off.
"Everyone calls me Benji. So, tell me, why are you here? Steal our data, reveal all of our dark secrets?"
Ethan opened his mouth, and closed it again.
"Don't worry, I'm joking. We don't have any dark secrets. Except than the coconut chai on floor 50 isn't really vegan. Please don't put that in the film, though, Michelle is a very nice woman and I don't want to get her fired."
Without even catching a breath, he went on.
"Aubrey, you said? That's an old name. Norman, right? You'll have to tell me about your family, one day, I'd be fascinated to hear where they're from, their stories..."
Ethan's smile started tensing.
"But no matter. Don't let me ramble too much, or I'll ruin your film. What is your film, by the way?"
Ethan pulled himself together, mustering an answer before Dunn could start talking again
"I was hired to show the values of Pegasi to their cust- partners."
"Why do we call them partners? They're customers! They pay! Never understood the appeal. You're here to make a puff piece, then."
"No, of course..."
"And since my time is the less valuable of all the senior employees for a reason I can't possibly fathom, and Jean never forgave me for borrowing her coffee machine, I'm the one who's going to have the pleasure of showing you around."
"Well, I don't want to..."
"Be a bother? Of course not. But say, since you made me lose my coffee, why don't you get me one on the 85th?"
Dunn smiled widely.
Ethan started to regret not picking the Sudan mission instead.