The Golden Serpent Part 1 (S2E1): 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.  🙂

*****

Max had one foot in the water when he suddenly heard the telltale whirring of the elevator.  He looked at Grant, his eyes wide.

"Someone's coming down," he warned urgently.

The Black agent was sobbing, cradling Barney in his arms.  There were no signs of life left in the elder Collier.

Something between fear and empathy hit Max in the pit of his stomach.  He moved quickly to Grant's side, grasping his friend's bicep with his left hand.  "If they catch us here, the mission's blown."

"To hell with the mission!"  Grant said hatefully, jerking his arm out of Max's grasp and continuing to hold on to his father.

Undaunted, Max put his hand right back where it had been.  "He'd do the same in your place," he said gently.

"He wouldn't leave me," Grant disagreed, trying again -- this time without success -- to shrug off Max's touch.

"He would," Max assured him.  "He'd have to.  He'd do his job."

Max paused for a moment, and his sympathetic tone dropped nearly to a whisper.  "Come on," he urged.

Grant sighed heavily and gently lowered Barney's head to the concrete.  He looked up angrily at Max, whose bright blue eyes glistened with sadness.

Max threw the last of the metal canisters into the grotto and entered the water.  Grant took one last look at Barney's still form on the concrete and then followed his teammate.

Max swam faster than he'd ever swam before, knowing that as soon as the elevator doors opened, Suliman or his guards would notice that the outer gates were open and take swift action to close them.  He made it through the metal enclosure and quickly turned, motioning frantically to Grant who was a few feet behind him.

Suddenly, Max was horrified to see that the grill had started to close before Grant had cleared it!  He tried in vain to hold it open with one hand as Grant desperately propelled himself forward.  Finally, Max grabbed Grant's hand and jerked him clear with no time to spare.

*****

Nicholas and Jim were on deck, watching the ocean waters intently, when they caught the glistening of something metallic.  Hastily, they took hold of the heavy canisters of heroin and pulled them onto the boat.  Afterward, they turned their attention to their teammates, first assisting with the scuba gear, then lending a hand as Max, then Grant, climbed aboard.

"How'd it go?" asked Jim, as the two men removed their masks.

His celebratory half-smile faded instantly upon seeing their troubled expressions.  "What happened?"  he asked softly, gazing at each man expectantly.

Max cast an uneasy glance toward Grant, who remained stone-faced and silent.  He sighed heavily and chose his words carefully.

"It's Barney," he answered quietly.  "They must have found out about him."  The blond agent dropped his head.  "They took him out."

"Oh, no," Nicholas said sadly, looking first at Grant, then Jim.

The elder agent felt as if he'd been gut-punched at the news.  Clearly, it seemed as if Barney -- who'd been Jim's best friend -- had not survived.  However, he forced himself to remain stoic, and was about to share some words of wisdom and support with his young teammates when his communicator suddenly beeped.  It was Shannon, checking in from Suliman's yacht to tell them about the Prince's engagement at the Opera House.

"The Prince is on his way to Sydney by sea," remarked Jim, once Shannon had broken off the connection.  "That'll give us time to fly down and get set up."

Grant, who'd been standing silently on deck with the others, suddenly walked toward the stern and gazed out over the open water.  Desperate to comfort his friend, Max started to follow, but Jim laid a restraining hand on his left shoulder.  The team leader himself then approached Grant.

Nicholas looked sympathetically at his blond teammate standing next to him, hands on his hips.  Whether it was from the wind, or fatigue, or worry, Nicholas wasn't sure, but Max's face was pale, and his bright blue eyes held no sparkle.

"Come on, Max," he urged, giving his arm a gentle squeeze.  "Let's go inside.  You look like you're about to fall over."

Max, worried about his teammate and still shaken from their close call with the steel gates, complied without argument, going downstairs and taking a seat on one of the bunks.  Nicholas followed suit and stood across from his friend, concern still heavy on his face.

"I hate seeing him like this," Max said quietly.

"So do I," Nicholas agreed, "but Jim will talk to him."

Max looked up at his teammate.  "Jim will put the mission first," he countered, his voice mildly accusatory, knowing that's exactly what he himself had done a few moments earlier but that now seemed wrong somehow.

"Yes, he will," Nicholas conceded.  "We all will; otherwise, Barney died for nothing.  We'll finish the mission.  Then, we will all take care of Grant."

Max nodded at the wisdom in his friend's words, but any further conversation was interrupted by the clicking of Jim's dress shoes descending the stairs.

Once Jim reached the lower deck, Nicholas turned to lock eyes with the elder agent.

"Is there something we can do?" he asked.

Jim opened his mouth as if to say something, but closed it again as Grant suddenly popped into view.  

The Black agent stopped at the bottom of the stairs and stared coldly at his team leader, a myriad of emotions competing for space in his heart.  Grief, for sure. Jealousy and resentment, for Jim's relationship with his father had been richer and more meaningful than his own, and now there was no time to make things right.  Even hatred -- not for Jim directly, but for the flippant way that he and Max had put the mission first, with precious little regard for the feelings of a man who had just lost his father.  

The mission comes first.  Always had, and always would.

Grant slowly walked to his computer and sat down.  When he looked up at Jim a second time, there was no mistaking the emotion.  Regardless of what they'd just been through, Jim had made the expectation clear; it was time for Grant to suck it up and get back to business.  Seething with anger, the computer genius began to search for the Prince's Opera House event.

*****

Throughout the short flight to Sydney, Grant had been unusually quiet, lost in his thoughts.  His mind flashed back to being with Max and his father in the grotto, recalling Max's reassuring hand on his shoulder just as Grant felt his world caving beneath him.

Max's refusal to smuggle Barney out with the heroin had hurt, but -- as Grant now recognized -- it had been prudent.  He would not have survived the dive, even if he'd taken Grant's equipment.  And with Grant still trapped on the inside, and nobody else there but Shannon, the decision would have jeopardized not just the mission, but everyone else's lives as well.

The mission.

A part of Grant still blamed the mission -- and the IMF in general -- for taking his father from him.  But his earlier conversation with Jim had offered a different perspective.  Even though Barney hadn't been around physically for much of Grant's life, he realized, his family had always lived comfortably, and his mom had had the freedom to stay at home with Grant and his sister.

Grant had grown up and devoted his genius mind to the same work, because he longed to be everything good that his father had been.  And even though his tenure with the IMF paled by comparison, Grant had already begun to taste the satisfaction of a job well done, justice served, and his country protected.  Yes, he supposed, he could understand what had led Barney to this work.  His father had had the strongest moral compass of anyone Grant had ever known -- rivaled only, perhaps, by that of his team leader and best friend, Jim Phelps.

*****

Once they landed in Sydney, Nicholas and Max set off to plant squibs at the Opera House.  Jim busied himself with various tasks until Grant spotted the Prince's yacht approaching the majestic structure.  After signaling his teammates, Grant walked over to Jim, who was pulling on his suit coat.

"This remote control will set off the squibs that Max and Nicholas have laid in," the Black agent advised, handing Jim a small black rectangular object about the size of their communicators.  They were the first words that Grant had spoken since they'd been back on the boat.

Jim took the device and examined it carefully. "Timing will be critical," he reasoned.

"All you have to do is touch the button," explained Grant.  "It'll transmit a signal to Max."

"Then he'll start firing for effect."

"Yeah," Grant whispered.

Jim read the tension in Grant's voice like a book.  He tilted his head thoughtfully.  "How are you holding up?" he asked softly.

He and Grant stared at one another for a long moment.  Then Grant replied, "I wish Max wasn't firing blanks."

"If it's any consolation to you, Grant, we're going to get these people," Jim vowed.  He gazed to one side, and the look that Grant had come to recognize as calculated determination settled in his eyes.  "We're going to get them."

Then Jim's steel blue eyes locked with Grant's brown ones.  In that moment, everything that Jim that said back on the boat made perfect sense.  In that moment, Grant understood completely what his father had lived and died for -- and he was more determined than ever that his father's death would not be in vain.

He wanted to tell Jim what he was feeling, but he couldn't find the words.  Instead, he laid his left hand on the elder agent's upper arm and gave him a half smile.

For Jim, Grant's silent gesture said everything.

The End

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