Assassin (S2E13): Episode Tag

Disclaimer:  I do not own either of the Mission: Impossible series or any of the characters therein.  I receive no compensation or any other tangible benefit from this story.  I am just a fan who enjoys taking the team out for an adventure every now and then.  🙂

*****

It was the middle of summer, and the team had just finished a mission in a small city in the Southeastern United States. But there wasn't a flight to San Francisco scheduled until the next morning, so the five teammates were enjoying some rare downtime at the spacious hotel where they'd been staying.

Despite the fact that the mission was over, the team knew that it wasn't really wise for all of them to be seen together. So they had each chosen a different activity for the evening. Jim had occupied himself with a copy of the local newspaper. Grant was busy tinkering with his latest gadget. Shannon had gone downstairs to enjoy the spa facilities, and Max was stretched out on a king-sized bed in the room he shared with Nicholas, watching television.

"I think I'll take an evening swim," mused Nicholas aloud. The outdoor pool had been tempting him since they'd checked in days before.

Max sat up on the bed. "I'll go with you," he offered.

Nicholas shook his head, waving his hand dismissively. "It's okay, Max. I'll be fine."

"I don't think there are any lights down there," Max continued to protest.

Nicholas glanced at his watch. "It won't be dark outside for another three hours," he reminded his friend. "I'll be back way before then."

Max finally nodded in acquiescence, then Nicholas hurriedly changed into his trunks and exited the hotel room.

As he stepped outside, a cool evening breeze gently ruffled his hair, and the sky was rose-colored anticipating the sunset. It was a perfect night for a swim.

There was not another soul around as Nicholas settled into the water. The temperature was just right, too - cool, but not cold. He slowly lunged forward, stretching his body, letting his arms slice through the surface and propel him forward, letting his mind wander aimlessly.

Suddenly, he stopped.

A blurry image popped into his mind, and he could see himself facing an adversary he couldn't quite identify. His hands were wrapped around his opponent's neck, and it seemed as if Nicholas could feel two strong hands wrapped around his own.

Nicholas lowered his feet until he was standing in the pool, shaking his head in a desperate attempt to rid himself of both the image and the vague sensation of constriction in his throat. He forced himself to take deep, deliberate breaths, consciously fighting to stuff the sensation of panic that had suddenly gripped him. Was this a memory? A flashback? An image from a forgotten dream? He wasn't quite sure.

Then, in the time it took to contemplate the question, a second set of images flashed through his mind: rising to the surface of the water, confused and disoriented; feeling a strong arm around his neck and being dragged backwards toward the side of the pool; swallowing water as his mouth bobbed up and down rhythmically at the surface.

Nicholas' breath abruptly shut off in his chest. He felt as if he would suffocate. He had to get out of the water. Now.

He scrambled up the pool ladder and to a lounge chair, where he sat for an untold amount of time, forcing himself to breathe normally. Then he dried himself off with a towel and made his way back to his hotel room.

Nicholas, half-dazed, slid his key into the slot and opened the door. Max, hearing the subtle click, threw a glance in his direction.

"Back so soon?" he asked.

But as Nicholas rounded the corner, Max sat bolt upright in bed. His dark-haired friend's tanned face was pasty white, his eyes were glassy, and he was walking slowly, as if only partially aware of his surroundings.

"What's wrong, Nicholas?" he demanded worriedly. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

"It was very strange," Nicholas responded slowly, with an air of detachment. But before he could elaborate further, something about the way Max had spoken stopped him in his tracks yet again.

Max's words interspersed the images that flickered in his mind's eye; he could see his friend's lips forming the words, but there were also random photographs of a lion, then an antelope. What the hell was happening to him?

Nicholas closed his eyes, trying to banish the unpleasant images from his consciousness, and Max was at his side in seconds.

"Nicholas?" he ventured, laying a hand on his shoulder.

Suddenly, Nicholas snapped. In an instant, the dark-haired agent let out a loud, guttural groan and lunged at his friend. Max, recalling what had happened before, recognized the look in his eye and anticipated what was coming a split second before it happened.

"Nicholas!" he yelled, as he shielded his face from his friend's attack. Already weakened, the shorter man ran out of steam quickly, and Max was able to pin his arms down to his sides.

"Nicholas," Max repeated, consciously lowering his voice in an effort to calm his friend, as Nicholas continued to struggle. "Take it easy, buddy. It's okay. It's just me."

Just then, the telephone rang, and Max cursed aloud. It had to be either Grant or Jim calling from the room next door, no doubt having heard the commotion. Max knew that if he didn't answer, they'd be knocking at his door.

Max took one hand off Nicholas' arm, scooped up the receiver, and tucked it under his chin quickly before gripping Nicholas' arm again. "Yeah?"

"What's going on in there, man?" came Grant's anxious voice. "Are you guys all right?"

"Flashback," Max said stiffly. "We're okay, but I'll have to call you back."

"You sure?"

"I'll call you back," Max repeated through clenched teeth. Then he let the receiver clatter to the floor as he continued to hold fast to his teammate.

After what seemed like an eternity, Nicholas looked at Max, and his face registered recognition.

"Max? What's going on?" he asked, nervous and thoroughly confused.

"Relax, buddy." Max sighed heavily and released his grip on his friend's arms. Nicholas sunk down onto the bed, suddenly exhausted, and Max sat down beside him. "Why don't you tell me what you remember?" he asked, his voice gentle, as he picked up the telephone receiver off the floor and put it back in its cradle, then laid a steadying hand back onto Nicholas' shoulder.

Nicholas took a deep breath. "I was in the water," he began, "when the strangest pictures popped into my head." As best he could, he described the two images that he'd seen previously. "It was hard to breathe for a few moments," he continued, "and I couldn't stand the thought of getting back in the pool. But I don't know how I got back to the room, or what I'm doing here on the bed."

Nicholas' worried brown eyes met Max's baby blue ones. "What's happening to me?" he whispered.

Max squeezed Nicholas' shoulder in sympathy. "Easy, pal," he soothed. "You're having flashbacks."

"Flashbacks?" Nicholas repeated. "Of what?"

"Westerly," Max said gently.

For a moment, Nicholas looked terrified, recalling the hell that the mental programming had put him through, and the way he'd treated Shannon while under the doctor's command. But then he shook his head. "But what I saw had nothing to do with Shannon," he protested.

"I know," Max answered quietly, "but there's something we never told you."

*******

Max was swimming laps around the pool when Nicholas came into sight. He climbed out of the water and followed his friend as he walked at a brisk clip around the poolside until he reached the lounge chair where Shannon was sitting.

"Brian Carmody," the dark-haired agent smiled, using his alias and extending his hand.

"Ah, Patricia Barwing. How do you do?" she returned, following his example. They shook hands, and Nicholas sat down in the chair beside her, still smiling broadly.

"What's going on up there, Nicholas?" Shannon asked, lowering her voice.

"Where?"

"In the office."

Nicholas looked genuinely confused. "I don't know what you mean, Shannon."

"You don't remember anything?" she asked.

"Animal noises?" Max added, sitting down at Shannon's feet.

Nicholas shrugged. "Vaguely."

"Well, there was nothing vague about it," Max disagreed. "I mean, it sounded like a jungle in there."

"Look," answered Nicholas, his smile returning, "all I know is I haven't felt this good in a long time."

Suddenly, something caught Max's eye. He looked pointedly at his friend's left wrist. "Nicholas, where's your watch?"

"Here," Nicholas replied, pointing to his wrist and moving his arm closer so that Max could get a better look.

"It's new. Where did you get it?" asked Shannon.

Nicholas looked at her incredulously. "I've had this watch for a long time," he disagreed.

"Well, let me take a look at it," urged Max, rising to his feet and reaching for the watch.

"No!" Nicholas yelled, snatching his arm from his friend's grasp. He quickly stood to his feet. "Look, would you just leave me alone?" he said, sounding extremely annoyed. Then, his voice softened again. "I'm sorry. I'll see you later."

The dark-haired agent turned and began walking away. Max got to his feet and started after him.

"Nicholas? Nicholas!" Max barked, and Nicholas stopped in mid-step and turned to face the blond agent.

"Now, look," began Max, "what's going on? What happened in that room?"

Nicholas stared at Max for a long moment, then he turned away and resumed walking. Max rushed to his side again, his hand forcefully gripping the shorter man's shoulder.

"Look, we're getting you out of this place." Max let go of his shoulder again, and Nicholas resumed walking. "You're losing it, buddy," Max continued. "We didn't bargain on this."

Max could see that his words were having no effect on his friend, but his dogged determination refused to let him give up. He circled in front of Nicholas, placing his right hand on his buddy's shoulder yet again.

"Did Westerly give you that watch? Did he?"

As Nicholas stood frozen, an icy stare on his face, Max continued his plea. "You can tell me what's going on," he assured him.

Max was greatly troubled by Nicholas' lack of response, and his voice reflected his anxiety and desperation.

"Hey, come on, what's wrong?" he begged, even as he could see that Nicholas was getting angry, that his chest had begun to heave with every labored breath. "Look, we're friends. You and I are friends, and you can tell me whatever is bothering you. Just talk to me about it, Nicholas, please.”

As Max continued to speak, Nicholas watched the movement of his lips, all the while images of first a lion, then an antelope, flashed into his mind. He was only half aware of the words that were being spoken.

"You can tell me what's going on. I mean, if something's bothering you, I want to know about it. I know there's something going on in your mind. Tell me about it. What is it? Why are you looking at me like that?"

Suddenly, the dark-haired agent felt an overpowering urge to permanently eliminate the man who was standing in front of him. He was in the way. He had to die.

"Nicholas!" Max said loudly, in a final desperate attempt to break through whatever this was, while slapping the shorter man's shoulders forcefully with both hands.

Nicholas' reaction was instant. "Ahhhhh!" he screamed, raising both arms up to break the blond agent's grip, then pushing him sideways into the pool.

"Ah!" Max cried out in surprise. Before he knew what was happening, both men were upside down in the water, each with their hands wrapped around the other's neck.

Max had to force himself not to panic below the surface. Normally, he had a clear strength advantage over his teammate, but whatever had a hold of Nicholas' mind brought with it a boost of adrenaline. His grip was viselike, and it took everything Max had to wrench himself free.

Shannon, who had gotten to her feet and was watching intently, was relieved to finally see Max extend his arm upward and propel himself to the surface. A few seconds later, Nicholas followed suit, gasping for breath. He looked lost and disoriented, his gaze darting frantically from side to side as if he didn't even realize that he needed to get out of the water.

Shannon rushed over to them anxiously as Max wrapped an arm around his friend's neck and dragged him to the edge of the pool. Once Nicholas was clutching the side, Max let go of him with one hand.

"Nicholas! What-?" Max began, as he used his free hand to splash water on Nicholas' face.

Shannon stood over the two men, leaning down from the side of the pool. "Nicholas! Nicholas, whatever he's put in your head, fight against it!" she urged.

"Snap yourself out of it! Come on!" Max pleaded, again splashing water on his friend's face.

"Leave me alone!" Nicholas bellowed. Then the encounter was broken as two orderlies rushed to the side of the pool.

"Hey, hey, excuse us!" one said to Shannon, as they practically pushed her out of the way and lifted Nicholas out of the water.

"Stay clear of our patient, Mister Barwing," the orderly warned Max.

"Thank you," Nicholas managed to stammer, as the clinic staff ushered the dark-haired agent back inside and once again under the watchful eye of Doctor Phillip Westerly.

*******

Nicholas was quiet for several moments after Max finished speaking, but finally he removed his gaze from the wall in front of him and looked into the worried blue eyes of his friend.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Nicholas asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Max shrugged. "I didn't think it was important."

"Not important?" Nicholas asked in disbelief. "Max, I wrapped my hands around your throat and tried to strangle you!"

Neither man bothered to debate whether or not Nicholas would have had the strength to hurt Max. That wasn't the point, and they both knew it.

"It wasn't you, Nicholas," Max responded quietly. "You know that."

"But it doesn't change what happened."

"It wasn't your fault, Nicholas," Max insisted.

"I should have been in control," Nicholas countered, standing to his feet. "I should have been able to fight him off."

Max ran his hand through his blond hair as he, too, stood up. "This is exactly why I didn't want you to find out. I knew you'd beat yourself up about it." He sighed. "But I guess being in the water is what triggered it."

Nicholas walked over to the window and stood there, silently, staring out at the sunset. When he didn't respond, Max walked up beside him.

"Nicholas," he said gently, laying a hand on his friend's shoulder, "we've been through this already, with Shannon. There's something else bothering you, isn't there?"

Nicholas didn't respond for a long moment. Finally, he sighed heavily.

"I shut you out, Max," he replied without meeting his buddy's gaze. "You tried to be a friend, and begged me to talk to you, but instead I got angry with you and pushed you away. Why would you want my friendship now?"

Max felt his stomach lurch at his friend's words. He squeezed Nicholas' shoulder in empathy, and when he spoke, his voice was soft.

"Nicholas, look at me."

He gently spun the dark-haired agent around until the two men were facing one another. As he looked into the shorter man's eyes, Max was taken aback to see the hint of moisture glistening there. He gripped both of Nicholas' shoulders with his hands as he continued to speak softly.

"I am your friend. I am here for you. Nothing that happened in Boston changes that."

"But how can you and Shannon ever forgive me?"

Max shrugged. "There's nothing to forgive, Nicholas. You were so far under Westerly's control that it might as well have been a complete stranger doing those things."

"I thought he was gone," Nicholas mused quietly. "It's been over a month. I thought I'd gotten past it. But obviously part of him is still in here." He tapped his temple with his finger, emphasizing his point.

Nicholas' eyes met Max's again, and the blond agent could see the fear shining out from them. "How long will it keep coming back?"

"I don't know, buddy," Max replied honestly, "but it doesn't matter. We'll work through it together. I'm not going anywhere, pal. That's a promise."

Nicholas smiled at his friend. "Thank you."

The two men shared a warm embrace, which was interrupted by a loud knocking.

"Open up, Max." Grant's slightly muffled voice was tense, and Max hurried to open the door. Jim and Shannon stood behind the young black agent, and concern was evident in all three faces.

"Is everything all right in here?" Jim asked worriedly

"Everything's fine now, Jim," Nicholas assured his leader, shooting a grateful glance at his blond teammate. "In fact, I was just about to suggest that we grab some dinner. I'm starving."

"Um, Nicholas," Shannon said awkwardly, "you might want to change clothes first." She gazed pointedly at the still-damp tank top and swim trunks that Nicholas was wearing.

Nicholas grinned sheepishly. "Yes, I suppose I might," he answered, and they all laughed as Nicholas disappeared into the bathroom to get dressed.

The End

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