Deadly Harvest (S2E11): Missing Scenes

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.  🙂

*****

Hearing Grant's whistle, Max raised up from his crouched position and ran carefully down the rocky cliff to join his friend. He and Grant each grabbed an arm and dragged, then carried the unconscious villager to the side of the road. Grant took a moment to grab the man's keffiyeh and agal, then he followed Max back to the pickup.

Max leapt into the truck's bed, which was filled with wheat. "I don't think I'm going to enjoy this," he quipped, as he dug the rebreather out of his pocket and placed it in his mouth, then laid on his back, moving his body back and forth in order to conceal himself from sight.

"Yeah, I know, I know, it goes completely against your grain," Grant punned, circling to the truck's right side and sliding behind the wheel. He slammed the door and headed for K's compound.

Grant, in full headgear, pulled up alongside a guard and showed him the required paperwork. The guard looked at it, then folded it back and signaled for Grant to go forward. However, before he could move the truck more than ten feet, he heard the voice of a second guard.

"Hold that truck!"

A tall, bald man in military-type dress, wearing a white cap, walked up to Grant's window, greeting him with a scowl.

"There is a problem?" Grant asked, using a vague Arabic accent.

The soldier said nothing. Instead, he walked back to the truck's bed, inspecting it visually while Grant looked on. Then he took out the pitchfork that was sticking out of the truck bed and stabbed it into the load of wheat. Grant looked on nervously through his side mirror, silently wishing he had a way to let Max know what was happening, and praying that his blond teammate would somehow be able to evade the sharp tines. 

The soldier walked around to the back of the truck, where he once again thrust his pitchfork deep into the wheat. He repeated the action once more before sticking the pitchfork back into the middle of the load and leaving it there. He walked part of the way back up to Grant's window. 

"Let him through."

Grant obliged without comment and went speeding toward the dumping bins.

*****

Once they were alone, Grant loosened the tailgate over one of the bins, and the wheat came spilling out. Then he watched anxiously as Max slowly dug himself out of the grain and exited the truck bed, using the nearby wall as leverage.

"Oh!" Max groaned as his feet hit the ground with a hard thud; he might have lost his balance if Grant hadn't reached out a hand to steady him. "Ah!" Max groaned again. He was bent slightly at the waist, grasping his aching thigh with his right hand, while reaching up with his left to remove the rebreather.

"That was close!" Grant exclaimed.

Max stifled a shudder as he recalled the last few moments. From his position beneath the load of grain, his eyes shut tight, he could neither see nor hear what was going on on the outside. He felt the truck come to an expected stop, to check the bill of lading, and then move forward again. But he did not anticipate the second abrupt stop, just seconds later.

For a moment, Max feared that K's men would force Grant to unload the truck in their presence. He couldn't feel the pitchfork being removed from the truck bed, and he wasn't prepared the first time it was thrust into the load. One of the tines nicked Max in the upper leg, and it was all he could do to keep from crying out in pain. But, luckily, he had maintained his sense of direction based on his position and was able to anticipate where the sharp fork would next fall.  

The final blow in the center of the bed -- right where Max was lying -- had missed him by mere inches, and he was very relieved when he felt the truck lumber forward once again.

"Yeah, tell me about it," Max agreed, still breathing heavily, as he straightened up. "I'll see what I can do about that laboratory and get back to you." Max slapped Grant's arm affectionately and was gone before the Black agent could say anything further. 

*****

Once Shannon and Nicholas had erased Jared's research, they left the lab and returned to their room. Neither agent bothered to get comfortable there, for they knew that it would only be a short time before Joussef K. would show up and have them arrested.

"I didn't get a chance to say thank you earlier," said Shannon softly, as they stood next to the mirrored bureau.

Nicholas forced a smile, though his heart skipped a beat as he recalled the moment he'd gotten Grant's message that Shannon was trapped in the radiation vault -- and how he'd acted on pure instinct to try and save her while preserving their cover. "You're welcome, Shannon," he answered warmly, taking her hand in his and bringing it to his lips. Then his expression sobered. "K will be here any minute," he cautioned, "and I'm sure his interrogation will be less than friendly." His brown eyes shone with concern, and his voice dropped to a whisper. "I hope he doesn't hurt you."

"I'll be all right," she assured him with a slight smile, not sure which of them she was trying to convince.

Suddenly, the two agents heard the sound of Joussef K's voice approaching the room. "He's coming," Shannon whispered quickly. She picked up a napkin from the bureau and pretended to be wiping her teammate's face as K barged inside without knocking.

*****

"Grant, I'm all set," advised Max, once he'd entered the laboratory and tied the bucket to the sprinkler system.

"Good," answered Grant. "Now, just make sure there's no more than a trickle of gasoline. We don't want that bucket to fill too early."

"Gotcha," Max acknowledged. He opened the sprinkler and watched as the reddish liquid began to drip into the bucket. He tied off a second string, then, satisfied, made his exit to meet Grant outside the courthouse. 

Grant had already subdued one of the courthouse guards and was dressed in the requisite wardrobe by the time Max came into sight. It seemed to him that the blond agent was limping slightly as he sneaked up behind a second guard, tapped him on the shoulder, and dealt him a knockout punch when he turned around. He was still breathing heavily as he and Grant scooted the fallen guard out of view and Max got into his clothing.

"You're still favoring that leg," the Black agent observed worriedly.

"It was fine until I tangled with K's crony outside the laboratory," growled Max.

Grant felt his concern mounting as he wondered how many other injuries his friend was masking. "I'll have a look at you when we get outta here, " he promised.

Hearing the apprehension in his teammate's voice, Max looked up at Grant and smiled dismissively. "I'll be okay," he assured him. "Let's just get this done."

Grant nodded. "All hell should break loose any minute now," he predicted, just as the sound of an explosion ripped through the afternoon sky.

The End

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