The Plague (S1E16): Missing Scene

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.  🙂

*****

Inside the old condemned theatre stage entrance that served as the team’s command post, four of the IMF team members sat around a rectangular metal table talking with Nicholas, who was at Catherine Balzac’s Red Hand Club.  Posing as Professor Lotte, who’d been hired by Madame Balzac to authenticate the Xerxes bacteria, Nicholas had hoped to get his hands on the entire sample; however, he’d just found out that he’d only been given a small portion of it, and the rest was still concealed in an unknown location.

“Nicholas,” advised Jim, “you’ll have to transfer the sample bacteria.  It’s the only way we can be sure it’s kept under controlled conditions.  Grant will talk you through it.”

“I’m ready,” Nicholas replied, as he flipped the communicator to open mic and laid it nearby.

“All right, partner,” Grant began.  “Describe the mechanism to me.”

“There are joysticks that operate the mechanical arm behind the glass where the sample is,” said Nicholas.

“All right, good,” responded Grant.  “Those should operate on the same principle as video game controls.  Is there an airlock?”

Nicholas looked to his right, and his eyes fell on an opening covered by a plexiglass window which said AIRLOCK.  He walked over to it and took a closer look, just to be certain.

“Yes, there is.”

“Open it,” commanded Grant.  Nicholas hit a button, and the window opened to the left.  “Take our container, put it inside the airlock, and close it again.”

Nicholas took the small container, flipped a switch on the front of it, and pulled it open.  Then he laid it inside a black rectangular object in the airlock compartment and pushed the button which slid the window closed.  He hit a second button, and the yellow piece of metal where everything was sitting slid backwards and up into the glass compartment where the bacteria was.

“It’s done.”

Jim watched as Grant provided additional instructions, punctuating his words with gestures as if his teammate could see them.  “Using the mechanical arm,” he explained, “bring our container across to the other one.”

Nicholas walked back over to the other part of the control panel, pressed three buttons, then grasped both joysticks.  He moved one, and slowly watched the mechanical arm move downward; he moved the other, and the ends of it closed around the team’s small container.  He lifted the container, rotated it, and then brought it to rest on a yellow test tube shelf near the sample.

“It’s in place.”

“Is the bacteria accessible?”  Grant asked.

“Yes, it is.”

Grant took a deep breath.  “Now, slowly, slowly, remove the vial.”

Shannon, Max, and Jim all looked on wordlessly and listened to the gentle whirring of the mechanical arm through the speakers, as Nicholas followed Grant’s patient instructions.  He lifted the mechanical arm and moved it over to where the circular vial was resting, his face a mask of complete concentration.  He slid the ends of the arm around the vial.  Then he let out a forceful breath as he lifted it and started towards the small container.

This isn’t so difficult, Nicholas thought to himself, allowing a small smile to cross his lips as he rotated the mechanical arm to one side.

Suddenly, he heard the sound of footsteps approaching him.  Fearful of being seen without Professor Lotte’s eye patch in place, he took his hand off the joystick momentarily to reach up and pull it down.  The mechanical arm began to swing counterclockwise of its own accord.  Before Nicholas could regain control of the joystick, the arm thudded against the protective glass, producing a large vertical crack that reached the entire length of the compartment. 

“Damn!”  Nicholas cursed aloud.

The ends of the mechanical arm spread apart with the impact, and the vial went rolling away.  All at once, the implications of what had just happened sank in.

“Oh, my God!” the dark-haired agent exclaimed.  “I’ve cracked the glass!”

A look of panic crossed Grant’s face.  His eyes widened as he looked at Shannon, who was wearing a similar expression.  Max slapped his knee with his right hand, rose from his chair, and walked away from the table in exasperation.

“Stay calm, friend,” Jim soothed, raising his hand, though Nicholas could not see it.

“You have fifteen seconds to complete the transfer before the bacteria becomes virulent,” Grant said tensely, and Shannon glanced at her wristwatch.

“I can do it,” Nicholas promised.  He maneuvered the mechanical arm over to the vial and picked it up, then promptly dropped it again.  Grant and Jim stared at the speakers, while Shannon kept an eye on the time.  Max stood with his elbow propped against a nearby wall, chin in his hand.

The second time, Nicholas was successful in picking up the vial and dropping it into the secure container.

“Three seconds,” Shannon reported.

“Nicholas,” Grant said urgently, through clenched teeth.

Nicholas slid the container closed.  “Transfer complete,” he reported with a heavy sigh, after what seemed like an eternity.

Grant broke into a grin and let out a sigh of his own, along with a slight chuckle.   Max smiled faintly, though his mouth was still drawn into a tight line.  Shannon also sighed, smiling as she reached out to touch Grant’s hand in silent celebration.

Jim nodded.  “Well done,” he said with a smile.

“All right.  All right!”  Grant grinned, pumping his fist in celebration.  “Now you can bring our container back through the airlock.”

“With pleasure,” Nicholas grinned.

“All right,” Jim said.  “The sample is secure.  Now it’s time for Madame Balzac to tell us where the rest of it is.  You ready with the earring, Shannon?”

Shannon smiled and held up the doctored earring.  “She won’t know the difference.”

“All right.  Signal Grant when it’s time for the diversion.”  The team leader turned to Grant.  “And when does Madame Balzac meet with the operative from the U.S. Government?”

“Just as soon as she receives this,” Grant answered, rising up from his chair and picking up a large, colorful painting.

*****

In the next few moments, Jim and Grant busied themselves preparing the painting for delivery, while Shannon got ready to return to the Club and replace Balzac’s earring.  None of them noticed as Max slipped outside the theatre doors and onto the patio.  His mind was racing as he stood there and looked over the railing.

Presently, he heard the doors swing open, and Shannon emerged from inside.  Though he was facing away from her, the blond agent heard her suck in her breath slightly as she spotted him.

“There you are, Max,” she said quietly.  “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah,” he answered, still without turning to face her.  “I just needed some air.”

Max heard the gentle clicking of Shannon’s high heels as she walked towards him, then he felt her place a gentle hand on his right shoulder.  “He’s fine, you know,” she said in a half-whisper.

Max finally turned to his right to face her, his face troubled.  “What’s that?”

“Nicholas,” she responded. “I know you were worried about him.”

Max almost chuckled to himself at the understatement in Shannon’s words.  He still didn’t really understand much about the Xerxes bacteria – not the way Grant and Jim did – but he understood enough to know the dangers.  If Nicholas hadn’t moved quickly, all of Europe could have been at its mercy.  At the very least, exposure would have been fatal for his teammate and friend, and Max knew it.  Worried?  he thought.  No.  More like terrified. 

“When I heard him say he had cracked the glass, I thought he was a goner,” Max admitted, after a pause.  “Hell, I thought we were all goners.”

“But we’re not,” Shannon reminded him gently, squeezing his shoulder for emphasis.

“I know.”  Max smiled at her, finally allowing himself to relax a bit.  “Thanks, Shannon.”

Shannon returned his smile.  “I’d better get back to the Club.”

“Be careful,” the blond agent urged.  He reached for the theatre doors, only to have them swing open suddenly.  On the other side of them was Jim, who seemed only mildly surprised to see Max.

The team leader looked past Max, his eyes falling on the female agent.  “Shannon,” he called, “can I see you for a moment?”

As she nodded, Max met Jim’s eyes briefly.  The elder agent stepped out of the way, and Max dropped his gaze and went back inside.

“What is it, Jim?”  Shannon asked, once the blond was out of earshot.

“Is Max okay?”

“He’s fine,” she answered, her voice slightly defensive.

“I saw how he reacted earlier,” Jim advised her, and Shannon cringed at the mild condemnation in his voice.  Jim had never been one to display much emotion, and was always preaching to his team about the dangers of letting one’s feelings get in the way of the mission.  “I need him to stay calm and focus on the mission.  Can he do that?”

“Of course he can, Jim,” Shannon said softly.  “You’ve seen him do it time and time again.  He may be a little more high-strung than the rest of us, but that’s just how he is.”  The female agent’s eyes sparkled, locking with Jim’s icy blue ones, her voice mildly challenging.  “You can’t fault him for being worried about his team.”

Jim pondered this for a moment, then sighed heavily.  “No, I suppose not,” he finally responded.  Then he smiled at her.  “You’d better get going.”

Shannon nodded, smiling briefly, and set off for the Club.

 

The End

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