Ethan Hunt: "...I don't care what you do, but you have to make sure they're safe in the end."
FBI Employee: "I can guarantee that."
Ethan Hunt: "Thank you."
FBI Employee: "You're welcome. It's a pleasure working with you."
Ethan Hunt: "It's a pleasure working with you."
Morin closed his phone and skidded the car into the yard, tires screeching as he parked.
Ethan's words in the messages sounded a bit rude, but they were completely acceptable.
Otherwise, Morin wouldn't have bothered replying so patiently.
After all, Morin was the one blackmailing Ethan.
The adult world wasn't a fairy tale, and things were never that simple.
The most appropriate way for Morin to protect Ethan's parents in Wisconsin was either to arrest them himself or take custody of them from the CIA.
Either way, they would end up in Morin's hands.
The difference was that Morin wouldn't make it public.
The CIA would.
Morin and Ethan were partners.
They didn't trust each other.
So how could Morin be sure Ethan wouldn't suddenly decide to do the "right thing" and refuse to hand over the ten million at the end?
If he didn't get the money, how would he recover it?
And that was ten million that could be converted directly into experience points.
Of course Morin would use every bit of leverage available to protect his interests.
Ethan understood this.
He knew Morin only wanted a guarantee.
As long as they didn't fall out and continued cooperating, it would remain just that-a guarantee.
And compared to the CIA's open threats, Morin's approach was clearly the better option.
So after receiving Morin's assurance, Ethan thanked him again.
He knew that if their partnership held, Morin's actions would simply be seen as protecting his parents.
A few short messages.
A large amount of information exchanged.
"My lawn!"
As Morin was still processing the messages and planning how to secure Ethan's parents, the villa door flew open and a man's howl echoed out.
Morin: "..."
"Director, calm down. Your lawn..." Morin glanced at the green grass, now decorated with two black skid marks. He paused.
"Doesn't it look more artistic now?"
"Artistic my ass!" Chris was furious. "Don't think I didn't see you do that skid just to show off!"
"Oh..." Morin nodded thoughtfully. "How many times do you want to try it?"
"Try it a few times?" Chris almost laughed from anger.
"Do you think I'm a kid? I wouldn't care about a few... flashy moves that are completely useless..."
"I'll teach you."
"Deal!" Chris's eyes lit up as he agreed instantly, as if afraid Morin would take it back.
What was a lawn, anyway?
Did the Director of the IRS really care about a bit of grass?
It was a trivial expense.
Chris was clearly interested in Morin's driving skills. He'd asked about them more than once before, but Morin had always refused.
Until today.
Wait.
Something was off.
Chris suddenly became wary.
Why had Morin agreed so easily this time, after refusing so many times before?
"He's up to something."
"Who are you planning to arrest this time?" Chris asked cautiously.
"How can you make such baseless accusations?" Morin widened his eyes.
"Why would I be arresting someone? Do you think all I do is arrest people?"
"...Don't you?" Chris replied after a brief pause.
"Hm..." Morin thought it over. "I guess so. Fine, you're right. I do need to arrest two people."
"I knew it wouldn't be that simple!" Chris said.
"You only warned me ahead of time when you were going to raid CIA headquarters. This time you're offering driving lessons as payment. Tell me-are you planning to raid the White House or the Pentagon?"
Morin rolled his eyes. "When did I ever raid CIA headquarters? Don't slander me. And don't make me sound like a terrorist. I have a legitimate job."
"Yeah, yeah," Chris said, indulging him. Then he lowered his voice. "Right-how did it go?"
Only then did Chris realize he hadn't actually asked about Morin's trip to CIA headquarters.
"It went fine," Morin said. "The CIA side kept stalling, so I didn't get to state my purpose until my partner got the item."
"..."
Chris fell silent.
So it really succeeded.
The list of all CIA agents had just... been taken.
He mourned for the CIA for half a second before forcing himself to stop thinking about it.
"So what did you say afterward?"
As for what Morin planned to do with the list, Chris didn't care.
That thing was a hot potato. Knowing more about it would only cause trouble.
Besides, he had already helped Morin.
Trust went both ways.
"On your behalf," Morin said calmly, "I reached a preliminary cooperation agreement with Director Brown of the CIA. A friendly, comprehensive exchange between the IRS and the CIA."
He listed it casually.
"Technology. Equipment. You should understand these things better than I do."
"There's something like that?" Chris was shocked.
He knew exactly what a "friendly exchange" meant.
In reality, it was a large-scale trade of interests where both sides benefited.
But this time, Morin had stolen their agent list.
It was like robbing someone's house-
And the owner not only didn't notice, but patted you on the back afterward and called you a friend.