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. 🙂
*****
For the entire flight back to California from Bogota, Shannon sat quietly beside Jim, staring at the small photograph of Luis Magdalena in the ornate silver frame she'd brought with her. When Max landed the plane, the authorities were waiting to seize the elder Magdalena. The five agents piled into Jim's Land Rover, and Max drove them all back to Jim's condo. Even then, Shannon had remained in almost complete silence, speaking only to reassure Jim, who'd asked about her well-being at least half a dozen times riding beside her in the backseat.
It had been Jim's intention to debrief that afternoon, but Shannon's silence had impeded that notion. Instead, the agents shared a meal -- which Shannon hardly picked at -- and lingered at the condo until darkness began to fall. Once it was clear that nobody was going anywhere tonight, Shannon stifled a yawn.
"I'm sorry, everyone," she said in a half-whisper. "I'm tired. I think I'll head on to bed. See you guys in the morning." And without any of the customary good night gestures, she excused herself and disappeared into one of the guest bedrooms.
Her four companions listened until they heard Shannon's bedroom door latch. Then they looked at one another, their faces all etched with worry.
"I hate seeing her like this," Nicholas began.
"We all do," agreed Jim. "It almost feels like we need to arrange some sort of intervention."
"But she's been through so much already," mused Grant.
Jim nodded. "Yes, and she's just gotten her memory back. We can't traumatize her again."
"So what do we do, Jim?" asked Max.
Jim sighed. "Sooner or later, she'll reach out to one of us," he answered. "Then we'll know she's ready to move forward. In the meantime, all we can do is let her know we care about her and give her the space she needs."
*****
Grant looked over at the illuminated numbers on the bedside clock for perhaps the tenth time since retiring for the night. It was not quite three in the morning, and he was still awake and thinking of Shannon. So many feelings competed for space in his heart – worry, of course, was primary, but there were others. Anger. Frustration. Disgust. Even empathy, for it wasn’t that long ago that Grant had found himself preoccupied after a mission, unable to get an adversary -- Su Lin – off his mind. And even though it hadn’t been romance that had drawn Grant to her, he understood -- perhaps better than the others -- how Shannon had to be feeling right now.
As he lay there thinking about these things, his keen hearing picked up a slight sound from the next room. Shannon’s room. He listened closer. It sounded like a sob. Then another.
Shannon was crying.
Mindful of Jim’s words from earlier about giving Shannon space, Grant tried to resist the urge to go talk to her. But as the seconds ticked by, he realized what he needed to do. It had been Shannon who’d helped Grant work through his feelings on their way back from Kangji. Perhaps he could help her now.
The Black agent rose quietly from his bed and tiptoed the short distance from his bedroom to hers. He knocked softly on the bedroom door.
"Shannon," he whispered. "It's Grant." A pause. "May I come in?"
Shannon wiped her eyes with her palms and sat up in bed, drawing her robe tighter around her. "Yes," she called, just loud enough for her friend to hear.
There was no noise as Grant carefully turned the doorknob, eased the door open, then stepped through it and eased it closed again behind him. He crept over to Shannon's side and took a seat in the chair next to her bed.
"I'm sorry I woke you," she said softly.
"You didn't,” Grant reassured her. “I couldn't sleep."
“Neither could I,” admitted Shannon, looking down at her hands.
Grant reached over and gently grasped Shannon’s left hand, prompting her to raise her head and look up at him. “Can we talk about it?” he asked carefully.
Shannon sighed, a slight smile crossing her lips. “I don't know where to start,” she responded. “My memory is finally clear, but my thoughts and feelings are a mess.”
Yours aren’t the only ones, Grant said to himself, as he squeezed her hand and smiled back at her. “We can start wherever you want,” he promised, “and work through this together.”
Shannon looked down once again, and Grant followed her gaze. In her right hand was the framed photo of Luis Magdalena. Something between anger and jealousy shot through Grant’s body and landed in the pit of his stomach, but he forced himself to ignore it and focused instead on his teammate. The look in her eyes was unmistakable.
“You loved him.”
The simple acknowledgement was the first time anyone, including Shannon herself, had given voice to her feelings. She thought about this for a moment before answering.
“Sarah Parsons loved him,” she clarified. “Sarah Parsons didn’t care about the truth.”
“What do you mean?”
“Luis told me his uncle was a decent man, a protector of the poor and the homeless. He conveniently forgot to mention where all that money came from,” Shannon replied, a hint of contempt in her voice. “Shannon Reed would not have fallen in love with him,” she declared. “I'd have known better.”
“Shannon, even though he wasn’t honest with you, your feelings for him are still genuine,” Grant reminded her gently, his use of the present tense deliberate. “You don’t have to apologize for that.”
“He did take good care of me,” she admitted, “when I didn’t think I had anyone else.”
“Because of the cover story we created for you.”
Shannon nodded as she recalled the time she’d spent with Luis, before Jim and Grant had helped her regain her memory. She’d grown very fond of her teammates during the past year they’d worked together, and had even been attracted to each of the younger agents at various times and in different circumstances. But what she’d experienced with Luis Magdalena had felt…different. The kind of feeling that would tempt someone to leave the IMF.
Grant sat quietly beside her, watching her, noting the stark difference between this woman and the carefree, smiling Sarah Parsons he’d observed at the Blue Orchid just two days before. It spawned a question – one he didn’t want to ask, but to which he was dying to know the answer.
“Shannon,” he said softly, squeezing her hand anew, “if things had been different with Magdalena’s nephew…”
His voice trailed off, and he left the rest of the question unspoken. But Shannon understood clearly. Her thoughts drifted back to the night before, when she and Luis were having drinks on the villa patio and planning the wedding ceremony for the next day.
*****
“You know, there is a lot of superstition in Bogota,” Luis was saying. “People say you can’t have all this wealth and be happy, too. I don’t understand that.”
“If you could choose one, Luis, which one would you choose?” Shannon asked, unconsciously holding her breath as she anticipated his answer. Perhaps if he was willing to give up his life of corrupt wealth to be with her, things could be different between them.
But his answer sealed their fate.
“No, I don’t have to make that choice,” he smiled. “I have it all.”
*****
“He was always going to be a part of that life,” she answered. “In his eyes, there was nothing dirty about how his family got its money. I couldn’t have lived with that.”
“Do you ever wish you hadn’t remembered?”
Shannon looked up into Grant’s brown eyes, anxious but soft. The follow-up question surprised her, and she hesitated, not quite sure how to answer it.
“It’s all right,” he coaxed reassuringly. “You can tell me the truth.”
Shannon thought for a long moment before responding. At last, she spoke. “A part of me does,” she admitted, “but saying it out loud feels wrong. Like I’m betraying you guys.” It was Shannon’s turn to squeeze Grant’s hand. “Besides,” she continued, “the other part of me knows that I’d have never been truly happy, not knowing.” A pause. “And that one day, I’d have remembered that I was married to a drug lord’s nephew and that you guys -- my real family – were gone forever.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “And that would have been too much to bear.
“Grant,” she continued, “I’m glad that you and Jim helped me to remember, before I made a terrible mistake.” Her voice trembled slightly. “I feel so bad that I didn’t remember you at first, as special as you guys are to me.”
“Psychological trauma is a complex thing, Shannon,” Grant comforted her, as the last bits of anger he’d had about the situation slipped away. “The amnesia was your mind’s way of protecting itself. It doesn’t mean you didn’t care.”
Shannon smiled at him, and for a moment she was almost herself again. “Thanks, Grant,” she said sincerely. “For everything.”
The teammates shared a warm embrace, then Grant turned serious again. “Shannon,” he advised gently, “Jim will expect to debrief in the morning before he lets us go. You’ll have to talk about these things again, with him.”
“I’ll be all right now, Grant,” Shannon assured him. “Talking things through with you tonight has really helped clear my head.”
Grant squeezed her hand one last time. “That goes both ways,” he smiled. “Get some sleep. I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Good night, Grant.”
As Shannon settled down in bed, Grant slipped out into the hallway, closing the door behind him. He
turned back toward his bedroom and was mildly surprised to see a faint glow coming from the dining
room.
Someone else was awake.
He tiptoed down the hallway. There, sitting at the dining room table, were all three of his teammates, sipping chamomile tea. Grant took the empty seat beside Max as Nicholas rose from his own chair and prepared a fourth mug for their new arrival.
“How’s Shannon?” the dark-haired agent asked.
“She’s going to be just fine,” Grant answered. “What are you guys doing up?”
Jim smiled slightly. “It seems that all of us had the same idea about talking to Shannon,” he replied. “You just happened to get there first.” He tipped his cup and drank the last of his tea, then he stood up and pushed his chair underneath the table. “We’d all better get back to bed soon,” he advised. “I expect to see all of you tomorrow morning at ten for a proper debriefing.”
With that, Jim disappeared into his bedroom and closed the door. Max bid Nicholas and Grant good night with affectionate shoulder slaps and then followed suit. Only Nicholas remained at the table, waiting for Grant to finish his tea.
“Is she really all right?” the dark-haired agent asked softly.
“She’s getting there,” Grant assured him. “She’ll be ready for debriefing tomorrow.”
“And what about you, Grant?”
The question took Grant by surprise, and he set his teacup down a little too forcefully. It thumped against the table, and Grant winced at the noise. “Me?”
“You,” Nicholas confirmed. “How are you doing?”
“I’m fine, Nicholas, why?”
Nicholas took a slow sip of tea before responding. “You’ve been almost as quiet as Shannon since we left the villa,” he explained. “I was just wondering if you were still angry.”
For a moment, both agents thought back to that night at the Blue Orchid, when they’d watched Shannon – nestled in the arms of Luis Magdalena – disappear along with the drug lord when the staff had cut the house lights.
*****
Grant stood up and walked to the back door. He leaned up against one of the wide columns supporting the structure. “What do you think happened to the lights, huh?” he asked Nicholas, frustration oozing from his voice.
“A waiter told me that the power in Bogota is not very reliable,” Nicholas deadpanned, in a vain attempt to lighten the heaviness of the situation, as he drew closer to his friend.
Grant turned slightly to stare at the dark-haired agent, and it was clear that he wasn’t amused. “That’s a lie,” the Black agent responded, and Nicholas nodded in agreement. “You and I both know it.”
Grant walked over to the doorjamb where Nicholas had been standing a moment earlier. Suddenly, he thrust his right fist through the wall, leaving a large gaping hole. “They cut the lights on purpose!” he exclaimed.
Nicholas left his perch and was at Grant’s side in a second. He grasped his teammate’s arm, turning him slightly until they were face to face. Then he placed a hand on each arm and shook him slightly, hoping to shift his friend’s focus away from his wrath.
“I know how you feel,” Nicholas assured him, his voice insistent, “and I want her back just as much as you do.”
Grant reached up and patted Nicholas’ chest with his left hand, though his brown eyes still flashed fire. He cast another hard gaze toward the Blue Orchid staff as he once again heard Nicholas’ voice in his ear.
“Let’s get out of here before we’re noticed,” he urged. “We can’t do anything for Shannon right now.”
For a moment, Nicholas wasn’t sure if Grant had heard him. He grasped his teammate’s arm once again and started to repeat his demand when Grant finally answered. “Yeah,” he agreed, his voice barely audible. “Let’s get out of here.”
Nicholas started to inquire further as to Grant’s state of mind, but ultimately decided to leave things alone for the moment, as the two men climbed into the car with Jim and headed back to the coffee bar.
*****
“I was angry then,” Grant admitted quietly. “about a lot of things. But I’m not anymore.” He sighed heavily. “Just relieved to have her back. Nailing Magdalena was a bonus.”
Nicholas smiled. “Sounds like talking to Shannon helped you as much as it helped her.”
Grant was silent for a moment, letting Nicholas’ words sink in. All at once, he understood. Nicholas could have talked to Shannon long before I did, he reasoned, but he knew I needed her more.
The Black agent broke into a wide, pearly-white smile and slapped Nicholas’ shoulder fondly. “Thanks, man.”
With that, the two men put their teacups in the sink and disappeared into their respective bedrooms for the rest of the night.
*****
The next morning, all five agents were seated in the briefing room before ten o’clock. By all appearances, each was feeling much better than the day before – even Shannon, who was smiling and acting much more like herself. She eagerly exchanged hugs with all four of her teammates before settling down for the necessary discussion.
“First of all, Shannon, how are you feeling?” Jim began.
“Much better today, Jim,” Shannon assured him, and this time – unlike the plane ride home – the team leader believed her.
“Are you up to this?” he asked, and she nodded and smiled. “Good. This was a very intense mission for all of us, and honesty is going to be very important.”
Jim sighed heavily, and his authoritative voice softened a bit as he gazed at Shannon. “I don’t mind telling you how worried we all were when Max told us you had been in the plane crash,” he began, “especially because at first we weren’t even sure you had survived.”
“Then the joy at finding out you were alive turned to fear when Jim discovered your amnesia,” Grant continued, with a quick glance at the team leader, “and anger when Magdalena checked you out of the hospital.” Grant’s eyes were liquid pools of brown. “I guess I always knew that we’d find a way to get you out of there, but I was worried that you’d never be the same.”
“What was it like for you, Shannon?” Nicholas asked gently from his seat beside her, his voice barely audible.
“It was scary,” she answered honestly, “first being in the crash, then not knowing who I was or what I was doing there.” She looked at Jim. “I know that you came into the hospital room to see me. That must have been tough. I’m sorry I didn’t know who you were.”
“You have nothing to apologize for, Shannon,” Jim said reassuringly.
“Like I told you last night, Shannon,” Grant added, “psychological trauma is a complicated thing. I’m just glad we found a way to unlock those memories.”
“When I saw that birthday video,” Shannon mused, her voice quiet, “it was like somebody turned on a light switch. And as happy as I was to recognize Jim and remember who I was again, I felt so bad, because I had unwittingly become involved with the enemy.”
“But you didn’t remember that at the time, Shannon,” Nicholas soothed.
Shannon shook her head. “Luis treated me well while I was with him. And I didn’t think I had anyone else. So it was easy to convince myself that we were in love.”
“We know you had feelings for him,” Nicholas advised her gently, with a cursory glance at Grant. “Grant and I saw the two of you together at the Blue Orchid.”
“And I’m afraid I wasn’t terribly considerate of those feelings when I met with you at the villa,” Jim admitted quietly, without meeting her eyes. “I was too busy planning how to get you and Magdalena out of there to find out whether you wanted to marry his nephew.” Suddenly, the elder agent looked up at Shannon. “I hope I didn’t pressure you into making a big mistake.”
“Jim,” she responded, “you guys kept me from making a big mistake. Luis didn’t care where his uncle’s wealth came from. He didn’t care that his uncle had had people killed – ‘political extremists,’ he called them. And he wouldn’t have given up that life, even for me. I asked him, the night before the ceremony. He wanted it all – the wealth and the power and the happy marriage – no matter what the cost. It was all part of his ‘big plan.’” The contempt Grant had heard in her voice the night before was back with a vengeance as she emphasized the final two words. “And sooner or later I would have remembered who I was, but by then it could have been too late.”
Shannon’s eyes misted over slightly. “You guys are my real family, and I’m so glad I didn’t lose you.”
“That goes double for us,” quipped Max, who’d been quiet up until this moment. In his role as a mercenary and trainer of Magdalena’s militia, his contributions to the mission had come from a distance. He’d been the first to find out about the plane crash but had had no interaction with Shannon while she was suffering from amnesia. Still, he’d been no less worried about her, and he was just as glad to have her back as his three teammates.
“Well, I’d say this debriefing is done,” smiled Jim, as he stood up from his chair. He knew that Shannon still had some inner work to do, to resolve the residual feelings and trauma from this mission, but he now knew that it would not affect her ability to focus on the future. “You are all free to go home if you’d like.”
“If it’s all the same to you, Jim, I’d like to stay a little longer,” Shannon countered. “I want to spend some more time with my family.”
Jim chuckled and sat back down, and the five teammates and friends talked and laughed for hours, finally dispersing just as the sun sank below the horizon.
The End
(c) 2022
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