Cold Open – Mallory's OfficeMallory gathers Archer, Lana, Spectre, and Cyril for a briefing.
Mallory: "This is Torvald Utne. Norwegian oil magnate. He's considering hiring ISIS as his private security."
Archer: (half-drunk already) "Pfft. Obviously. Look at me."
Spectre: (sipping from a glass of Oban) "Yeah, nothing screams 'hire us' like slurred speech and a loaded gun in your sweatpants."
Mallory slaps a dossier on the table.
Mallory: "You will protect him at tonight's embassy reception. That means no drinking, no fighting, and no… sleeping with the client."
(Archer and Spectre exchange looks. Lana glares at both.)
Act One – Embassy SetupAt the embassy, security is tight. Spectre wears a crisp tuxedo, blending in like a professional. Archer, however, downs champagne before the guests arrive.
Lana: "Sterling, could you at least pretend to care?"
Archer: "I am pretending! Look at this tux. James Bond. Nailed it."
Spectre: "You're closer to 'Drunk Uncle at Casino Royale.'"
Torvald Utne enters, flanked by aides. Archer swoops in immediately, shaking his hand too hard, grinning too wide. Spectre hangs back, watching the crowd for threats.
Cut to a POV: a sniper rifle assembling across the street.
Act Two – The PartyAs the reception unfolds, Archer clings to Utne like a wingman, bragging about past missions. Spectre stays near the perimeter, casually scanning for security flaws.
Pam is eating everything at the buffet.
Cheryl flirts with Utne's aide.
Cyril tries to act important but gets ignored.
Archer: "So, Torvald, you ever ride an elephant into battle? Because I have."
Spectre: (walking by, muttering) "The elephant was in a zoo, and you fell off."
Lana pulls Spectre aside.
Lana: "At least you look like you know what you're doing."
Spectre: "That's because I'm not seven martinis deep."
Suddenly—gunfire! The embassy windows shatter as masked gunmen storm in.
Act Three – The AttackThe ISIS team scrambles. Archer dives behind a buffet table, firing wildly.
Archer: "Eat hors d'oeuvres, bastards!"
(Shrimp skewers fly everywhere.)
Spectre moves with deadly calm:
Two quick headshots with his silenced pistol.
Sweeps another attacker, disarms him mid-roll.
Uses a champagne bottle as an improvised weapon.
Spectre: "Nothing says 'classy' like murder with a Dom Pérignon."
Lana helps cover Utne, dragging him toward safety. Archer bursts from cover, dual-wielding, shouting nonsense.
Archer: "Lana! Lana! Danger zone!"
Spectre: (ducking a bullet) "You are the danger zone."
After a chaotic firefight, Spectre notices one masked gunman slip upstairs. He follows. The man sets up another bomb near the ballroom chandelier.
Spectre lunges, tackling him, but the detonator goes flying. It lands at Archer's feet.
Archer: "Oh, what's this button do?"
Spectre: "DON'T—!"
Archer presses it. The chandelier crashes down, narrowly missing Utne, flattening the attackers instead.
Archer: (grinning) "You're welcome."
Spectre: (panting, annoyed) "One day, your luck's going to run out. And I'm not wasting good whiskey at your funeral."
Act Four – AftermathThe embassy is wrecked but Utne survives, impressed by the chaos.
Utne: "ISIS is… unconventional. But effective."
Mallory (over phone): "So you'll hire us?"
Utne: "Yes. As long as your agents keep that chandelier stunt in the repertoire."
Spectre lights a cigar, watching Archer high-five Pam while Lana fumes.
Spectre: "Well, Duchess, guess disaster is good for business."
Archer: "See? Told you I had it handled."
Spectre: "Handled? You nearly redecorated the embassy with our client's brains."
Tag SceneCut to Spectre hours later in an underground garage. He slides into a black Aston Martin, still in his tux, and drives into the night.
Mallory's voicemail plays over the engine's roar:
"Spectre, there's a banker in Zurich moving funds to terrorists. I want his accounts frozen and his body… preferably not found. Do try to be subtle."
Spectre smirks, turns on the radio, and speeds away.
Spectre (to himself): "Subtle's overrated."
Fade to black.