Holograms (S1E3): 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.  🙂

 

“Have the launch fueled and ready to shove off at dawn,” commanded Colonel Usher, as he turned around and started walking back toward his bedroom, ready to return to sleep and the dreams of the boy that Duval had disrupted.

“Sir,” the Major countered, as he rushed after his leader, “I thought you would send someone to the island.”

“I want to go myself,” said Usher resolutely.

“But have you forgotten the Americans?  The indictment?  As head of security, I strongly advise against it.”

“As head of the country, I strongly advise you to do as I say!”  Then Usher, frustrated and feeling a headache coming, stormed off to his bedroom and slammed the door.

Max, overhearing the conversation, nodded in satisfaction; tomorrow they would sell the con.  “Can I go now?” he asked Duval impatiently as the Major returned to his side.

In response, Duval grabbed a handful of Max’s hair, causing him to suck his breath in sharply.  “Maybe we’d better keep you around, just in case the Colonel runs into any problems.”  He shook Max’s head at this last word, then released him with a shove.  “Take him to the storage shed,” he growled.  Then the men led Max, still handcuffed, out the front door and into the Jeep.

*****

The next morning, Grant pulled back the window shades, and the summer sun – already blazing – lit up the room.  He watched as Colonel Usher exited the mansion, got into his limousine, and headed toward the boat dock.  A few moments later, Nicholas emerged from his room.

“Usher just left,” Grant advised.  “Now’s probably the best time to go plant the explosives.”

Nicholas nodded.  He put on his shoes, then picked up the bag containing the materials he’d need for the task.  He grabbed a bottle of water off the counter.  “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“Be careful,” Grant urged.  “Duval will be all over the place.”

“I will,” Nicholas assured him with a grin, patting his friend on the shoulder, as he headed outside and toward the  cocaine manufacturing compound.

He walked the same route he’d taken the day before, with Colonel Usher, who had shown him around the plant.  Presently, he passed the first of several small storage buildings – nothing more than tin-covered boxes with holes for the windows.  They were empty for the moment, but Usher planned to use them later to store the ethyl ether that Miles Taggart had promised to supply.

Glancing toward the building for no particular reason, Nicholas suddenly stopped in his tracks.  A small flicker of movement through the window had caught his eye.  

There wasn’t supposed to be anyone or anything in there.

Nicholas knew that he should just keep walking and focus on the task at hand, but curiosity got the better of him.  He couldn’t take the chance that someone in there might catch him red-handed planting the explosives.  Otherwise, he, as Colonel Usher’s guest, shouldn’t have any issues with anyone who might be roaming around on the grounds, so he decided to investigate.

Stealthily, he walked up to the window and peered inside – and was utterly shocked by what he saw.

“Max!” he exclaimed.  

The blond-haired agent had been pacing back and forth across the width of the small tin shed.  His hands were cuffed in front of him, but thankfully, he did not seem to be injured. 

“What in the hell are you doing here?”

“Duval and his goons were too lazy to take me back to the hotel after last night’s interrogation,” the blond agent quipped, with a sarcastic emphasis on the last word.  “I guess they wanted to keep me close by.”

As Max walked closer to his friend, the sunlight from the window caught his face.  Nicholas gasped, and his stomach lurched.  Max’s left eye was bruised and swollen, and his lip, though scabbed over, had clearly been cut badly.  “My God, Max,” Nicholas swore quietly.  “Look at what they’ve done to you.”

Sensing his teammate’s worry, Max chuckled dismissively.  “I’m all right, Nicholas,” he promised.  “It looks worse than it is.”  He reached both hands up to his forehead, took off his ball cap, wiped away the sweat, and replaced it again.  “It’s just hot in here.”

Nicholas suddenly remembered the bottle of water he had put in the bag with the explosives this morning.  Hastily, he fished it out, unscrewed the cap, and handed it to Max.  “Here,” he urged, “take this.”

Max took it with both hands and drank it gratefully, then poured the rest on his head and threw the empty bottle down.  “Thanks, pal,” he smiled.

Nicholas returned his smile, even as Max’s own faded slightly.  “Look, you’d better get going,” he told his dark-haired friend.  “I’m sure Duval isn’t far away.”

“I don’t like leaving you here,” Nicholas growled.

“I’ll be okay,” Max promised.  “They need to know where to find me when Usher decides to fly out to the island.  And you need to plant those explosives while you’ve got the chance.”

“All right,” Nicholas relented with a sigh.  “I’ll see you later.”  And with that, the dark-haired agent set off to finish his task.