The Dispatcher

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.  🙂

 

Summary:  A fortuitous rescuer is implicated in a mission gone wrong.    Written for a dear friend (and fan) for her birthday, and shared here with permission.

 

*****

Nicholas relaxed in a maroon-colored armchair, his legs crossed, smoking a cigar. Today, he was pretending to be José Campos, a Colombian terrorist about to purchase a quantity of illegal weapons from one Kevin Roberts. He was very comfortable in this role; it was one he had done many times in his career with the IMF.

"Shall we do business, then?" he asked, flashing a confident grin at his adversary. 

Roberts smiled back. "Of course, Mister Campos."

Roberts opened his laptop computer and was preparing to discuss his inventory when the doorbell rang.

"Excuse me just a moment."

Roberts stood up and walked to the front door. "May I help you?" he asked cordially as he opened it.

Nicholas couldn't see or hear Roberts' visitor from his vantage point on the armchair, but he listened intently, and after a pause he heard Roberts speak again.

“What do you mean, you're Jose Campos?" he demanded. "Jose Campos is here."

Oh no! Nicholas thought to himself. The real Campos must have escaped the clutches of the police and made his way here. And even if his team had known it beforehand, they couldn't have warned him; they had deemed it too risky for Nicholas to carry a communicator or wear a wire inside of Roberts' compound. The warning had turned out to be well-advised; Roberts had searched him as soon as he’d arrived.

I'll just have to talk my way out of this, Nicholas thought resolutely.

Suddenly, Kevin Roberts yanked the stranger inside, and Nicholas saw the glint of a silver pistol in his hand. The dark-haired agent stood up.

"What's going on?" he demanded.

"This man says he's Jose Campos," replied Roberts. "He says the police captured him, but this morning he escaped."

Nicholas chuckled, nervous on the inside but outwardly appearing unfazed. "Obviously, he's an imposter," he declared. "I am Jose Campos. Get rid of him, so we can continue our business."

Roberts shrugged, and his brown eyes were cold. "Okay," he agreed. Then, as Nicholas watched in horror, he pulled the trigger on the handgun, striking the stranger in the chest. The Colombian fell to the floor with a thud.

It took all of Nicholas' acting skills to remain poker-faced. "That's better," he said in satisfaction, and sat back down in his chair.

"You know what? Maybe he was right," Roberts muttered, and before Nicholas could react a second shot rang out. He felt a dull pain and burning in the right side of his chest. Soon afterward, everything went black.

*****

Back at the team's headquarters, Jim and the others waited patiently for Nicholas to make his move. Once he met with Kevin Roberts, he was supposed to telephone headquarters -- on the pretense of calling a cab. Max, dressed as a cabbie, was waiting a couple of miles away to pick him up.

But when the phone rang, it was not Nicholas. Jim answered it, listened quietly for a moment, then asked, "Are you sure?" Then he hung up and cursed aloud.

"What is it, Jim?" Shannon demanded.

Before responding, Jim pushed a button on his communicator so that Max could also hear the news. "The real José Campos escaped a half hour ago," he reported, his mouth drawn into a thin line.

"Then Nicholas is in trouble," Grant said in a half whisper.

"I've got to find him," Max vowed, as he started up the taxi.

"Max, it's too dangerous to go down there," Jim disagreed, "especially by yourself."

"I've got the dart gun," the blond countered. "Jim, he could be hurt. I have to find out."

Jim sighed heavily, knowing any further argument with his impulsive teammate was useless. "Be careful, then," he urged, "and maintain contact."

"Right."

*****

Nicholas returned to consciousness and was instantly aware of throbbing pain on his right side. Slowly, he used his left arm to push himself into a sitting position, wincing with every move. One glance at his surroundings revealed that he was no longer in Roberts' mansion. He was in a small, unfamiliar room, with no windows.

The real Jose Campos lay beside him. Nicholas reached over to check, but the stranger's neck was cold to the touch.

He's dead, the dark-haired agent thought to himself. He grimaced at the pool of his own blood he was now sitting in.  And so am I, if I don't get out of here.

It took all the effort he could summon to get to his feet and make his way to the front door. But when he tried to open it, he was dejected to realize that it was locked from the outside.

Discouraged, and still bleeding from his gunshot wound, Nicholas resigned himself to his fate. Suddenly, he spotted a telephone sitting on a nearby coffee table. He stumbled over to it and picked up the receiver, mildly surprised to hear a dial tone. 

Nicholas dialed the number to the building that the team was using as headquarters, but the call failed to connect. He tried again, using the long-distance code, but the voice he heard wasn't Jim's. Instead, it was a recording -- a female voice saying that his call could not be completed as dialed.

Nicholas knew he was dying. He knew that the recording probably meant that the phone was authorized for local calls only. But he prayed that a call to emergency services -- his last resort -- would go through. With shaky fingers, he dialed 911.

*****

Several tense moments passed before the team heard Max's voice again.

"Jim."

"Yeah, Max?" came the instant response.

"There's nobody here."

Jim, Shannon, and Grant looked at one another incredulously. "What?" Jim asked.

"I used Grant's lockpicks to get inside," Max answered. "The place is completely deserted."

Max paused as something caught his eye. He walked over to it and crouched down. When he spoke again, his voice was barely audible. "Jim, there are bloodstains on the floor."

Jim sighed heavily, for all four teammates were thinking the same thing: Nicholas could be hurt, and they had no idea where he was. "You may as well come on back here, Max," he advised. "Maybe Grant can do some more research and try to determine where Nicholas might be."

*****

"Nine-one-one emergency, may I help you?"

The voice was youthful and feminine, and it cut through Nicholas' brain fog for a moment.

"I've been...shot," he panted into.the phone.

"Where were you shot, sir?" came the voice, all business now, as the location of the call popped up on the screen and she punched the appropriate buttons to send an ambulance to the location.

"Chest..."

The dispatcher’s heart came up in her throat, and she felt her adrenaline kick in.

"Is the shooter still there with you?" she asked, wondering if she might also need to send the police to secure the scene.

"No."

"Is there someone with you who can help you?" she asked hopefully.

Nicholas glanced over at his dead companion. "No," he said again.

The dispatcher cursed to herself. "Can you find a clean cloth to put on the wound, to try and stop the bleeding, sir?"

"There's nothing...here..." He answered slowly between gasps. "I'm...dying."

The dispatcher could hear the caller's voice getting weaker. "No, you're not, you're going to be fine," she assured him instinctively. "An ambulance is on the way," she added, as she typed the words hypovolemic shock into the computer, knowing it would be transmitted to the responding crew.

"I don't...know where...I am," Nicholas protested. 

"It's okay, sir, my system found you," she reassured him, glancing at the monitor. "They'll be there in ten minutes."

"Too...late."

"What's your name?" the dispatcher asked, by way of distraction. 

"Nicholas...Black."

"Nicholas, my name is Lori, " she informed him. "I need you to stay with me until the ambulance gets there, okay? Can you do that?"

Lori listened to Nicholas breathing heavily, though he was no longer responding. "Hang in there, Nicholas,” she cajoled periodically. “They're almost there."

Soon, Lori could hear the sirens of the ambulance arriving at the structure. She heard a couple of loud sounds, and in another moment a familiar voice spoke into the phone.

"We've got him, Lori." It was the reassuring voice of Joe, her paramedic friend.

"Thanks, Joe," Lori answered, and the paramedic broke the connection.

×××××

The mood at team headquarters was noticeably somber. Max had returned moments ago to find Grant feverishly pushing buttons on his laptop, chasing down lead after lead. But it was no use.

"I can't find anything," he said in frustration, "that would tell us where he could have taken Nicholas."

Jim patted Grant's shoulder sympathetically, then he turned to Max. “Anything in Roberts' compound that might have indicated he was coming back?" he inquired hopefully.

Max shook his head. "The place was totally empty," he answered.

"Maybe it wasn't Nicholas' blood on the floor," Shannon offered optimistically.

"Maybe not," Max conceded softly, "but he's got to be in trouble, or else he would have called us by now." His blue eyes shone with worry. "The telephone at the compound was still operational."

"Then where do we go from here?" she asked, her voice thick with unshed tears.

Jim looked at her. "I don't know," he admitted.

"I've got trackers on everything associated with Kevin Roberts." Grant's voice was quiet. "If he makes any moves at all, we'll know it."

Jim nodded. "All we can do now is wait," he stated, "and hope he calls soon."

Just then, as if on cue, the telephone rang, startling all four teammates. Instantly, Jim scooped it up.

"Hello?"

"May I speak to James Phelps?" asked the voice on the other end of the line.

"Speaking. May I help you?"

"I'm a nurse at Mercy Memorial Hospital," the caller continued. "Are you familiar with a Nicholas Black?"

"Yes, he's my nephew," came Jim's instant reply, using the cover story they'd established for just such an occasion, and pushing the speaker button so that all of them could listen in. "Is he all right?"

"I'm sorry. I can't offer any further information until I obtain some verifications from you."

Once Jim had confirmed both Nicholas' identity and his own, to the nurse's satisfaction, he continued. "Mister Black is currently in surgery for a gunshot wound to the chest," he advised. "He is critical but stable. One of our nurses found your name and number listed as an emergency contact in Mister Black's wallet. We thought you'd want to be here."

"Yes, yes, of course," answered Jim. "We will be right there."

As Jim broke the connection, Grant looked up from his computer. "Mercy Memorial is over an hour from here," he reported. 

"Come on," Max urged impatiently. "Let's go."

*****

Barely an hour later -- thanks, in part, to the speed that Max was driving -- the four teammates arrived at Mercy Memorial Hospital. They wasted no time getting inside and to the information desk, where Jim again confirmed his identity and found out that Nicholas was now out of surgery and in the Intensive Care Unit.  

Due to the constraints on visiting hours, only one of them was allowed back to his room. There was never any doubt that the first visitor was going to be Jim.

To the elder agent's surprise, Nicholas was conscious. Upon seeing his team leader, the injured man smiled weakly.

“Jim,” he whispered. “It's good to see you."

"How are you feeling, friend?" Jim asked, in a tone more subdued than usual.

"Better than I was," the dark-haired agent answered. "The doctors said I was lucky."

Jim nodded. "The real Campos showed up, didn't he?"

It was Nicholas' turn to nod. "Roberts didn't know which of us was the real Campos, so he shot us both." A pained expression appeared on the agent's face. "Campos is dead."

"Where did he take you?" Jim asked cautiously. "Max went looking for you but didn't find anybody at the compound."

"I don't know," Nicholas replied honestly. "It was a little room with no windows and locked from the outside." He paused for a moment and looked at Jim. "Thank God there was a phone there. I couldn't get a call out to you, but I did manage to call nine-one-one. I don't know how they found me."

"Maybe they traced the call," Jim suggested.

"Maybe."

Jim patted Nicholas' shoulder fondly. "I'm going to go back out here and let the others know how you're doing. I'll be back in to see you in a little while. Get some rest."

*****

The following day, Nicholas had recovered enough to be moved to a private room, which meant -- much to everyone's delight -- that all four of his teammates could visit him at the same time. After enjoying lunch together, the team members were discussing the mission.

"I went back to Roberts' mansion last night," Max was saying, his voice low. "Someone ripped up the bloody floor tiles and replaced them with new ones. Other than that, there was no sign that anything went on there at all."

"And I was able to pose as an undercover detective and access the safe house where Nicholas was found," added Grant, with a glance at his wounded teammate. "Despite fresh bloodstains, and your statement, the police aren't going to investigate Kevin Roberts."

"They're not?" cried Nicholas.

Grant shook his head. "He was very careful. He left absolutely nothing behind that would tie him to the safe house." The Black agent looked at Jim. "I guess what the Secretary told you about Roberts being all but immune from prosecution was spot on, Jim."

Jim nodded, but with a gaze that was both regretful and determined. "We'll just have to figure out another way to catch him with his hand in the cookie jar," he said resolutely.

"How are we going to do that?" Nicholas wanted to know.

"You aren't going to do anything," scolded Max gently, his voice betraying his concern. "You've been through enough already." Nicholas smiled and patted his arm.

"I don't know yet," answered Jim honestly. It was a confession uncharacteristic of the typically quick-thinking team leader. "I’ll have to think on it for a little while."

*****

It was early afternoon when Lori Lombardi pulled into the parking lot at Mercy Memorial Hospital. This is where her friend Joe had said they had taken him -- her mysterious caller from yesterday. Nicholas Black. 

She'd been drawn to his voice from the first words he'd spoken -- I've been shot. Maybe it was the fear, or the desperation, or maybe just the hint of an accent that she'd heard there. Whatever it was, she felt a compelling urge to find him, to hear his voice again.

She'd spoken to Joe late yesterday, and he'd told her that Mister Black had at least made it to the hospital alive -- no small wonder, given the amount of blood he'd lost. But visiting hours had been over by the time she'd left work.

Even as she walked down the long sidewalk to the hospital entrance, she silently chided herself for what she was doing. You get calls like this all the time, Lori. What’s special about this one?  

It was a question she couldn't answer.

She walked inside and approached the information desk. A graying woman with an unfriendly expression glared at her.

"May I help you?"

"Yes, ma'am. Could you please tell me what room Nicholas Black is in?"

"Are you family?"

Lori hesitated for a moment, hating to lie but knowing that it was her only shot at seeing Mister Black.

"Yes," she managed to reply. "I'm his...”

What should I say? Spouse? Fiance? What if he already has one of those, and she’s with him upstairs? No, it’s probably better to stick with a different kind of kin. Cousin would probably be a safe bet, but the ice queen working the front desk might not let me in with that.

“…sister."

"Hold on, let me check and make sure it's okay," said the woman, and she began to dial Nicholas' room.

*****

The telephone in Nicholas' hospital room suddenly began to ring, taking everyone by surprise. For a moment, they looked at one another questioningly. The team was all together, so who could be calling?

Max reached over and picked up the receiver before Nicholas or any of the others could get to it. "Hello?"

"Mister Black's sister is here to see him," said the receptionist. "Is it all right if we send her up?"

Max hesitated briefly before responding. "Hold on. Let me check with him." He then covered the receiver with his hand. "Someone's downstairs wanting to visit," he advised. He gave Nicholas a knowing half-smile. "You never told me you had a sister."

"I don't," Nicholas confirmed.

"Is that who this is claiming to be?" queried Shannon. At Max's nod, she turned to Jim. "Do you think it's one of Roberts' associates?"

"Maybe," speculated Jim, "but a female?"

"I'll check it out," offered Max, as he turned his attention back to the receptionist on the other end of the phone.

“Tell her I will be down to get her in a moment.”

As he hung up, he saw questioning looks on the faces of his teammates. He nodded toward Nicholas. “Nobody’s getting close to him until I’m certain they’re not a threat,” he vowed, his jaw set in determination.

Nicholas smiled at his friend’s protectiveness. He opened his mouth to ask if someone should go with Max, but then he caught the look in the blond’s eyes and closed it again.

“I’ll be right back,” Max advised, closing the door behind him.

*****

When the receptionist told Lori that someone was coming down to meet her, nervous butterflies materialized in her stomach. So someone is with him, she reasoned, and that person probably knows that I’m not really his sister. Still, if they will just give me a chance to explain…

The elevator door opened, and Max emerged, instantly casting his eyes toward the waiting room. There was only one person there – a brown-haired lady about his own age. She had to be the one.

Well, she certainly didn’t look threatening.

Max approached the woman and held out his right hand. “You must be Nicholas’ sister,” he greeted.

Lori looked up at him, then glanced back toward the receptionist and met his eyes once again. Instantly, Max sensed that she had something to tell him, but didn’t want to say it in front of the receptionist.

“Come with me,” he offered. “I’ll show you to his room.”

Once the elevator doors had closed behind them, Lori began to speak. “I’m not really his sister,” she explained hastily, “but you probably already know that.”

Max nodded. “So who are you,” he returned, “and what are you doing here?”

“My name is Lori Lombardi. I was the nine-one-one dispatcher who took his call. I just wanted to come by to see how he was doing. But, of course, no one would tell me anything unless I said I was family.” She paused to take a deep breath. “So how is he doing?”

Something in her voice and her brown eyes rang with sincerity. Max smiled at her. “You can ask him yourself,” he answered, as the elevator doors opened and he led her down the hallway to Nicholas’ room.

Max opened the door and entered, with Lori a step behind him. Grant and Jim both stood up and looked questioningly at Max, who nodded. “It’s all right,” he assured them, and with that the four teammates watched and listened as Lori approached Nicholas’ bedside.

“Hi, Nicholas,” she said quietly, reaching out her hand. “I’m Lori. How are you feeling?”

“Much better, thank you, Lori,” he responded, taking her hand and squeezing it. Then his eyes narrowed pensively. “Lori,” he repeated aloud. The name was familiar, as was the voice. Still, it took him a moment to remember.

Suddenly, his features brightened. “The dispatcher,” he recalled. “You saved my life.” He took her hand, which he was still holding, brought it to his lips, and kissed it gently. “Thank you.”

“The paramedics saved your life, Nicholas,” she clarified dismissively. “I just sent them.”

“Maybe,” acknowledged Nicholas, “but regardless, thanks to you, everything turned out all right.”

“And we are all thankful for that,” added Jim.

“Let me introduce you to my friends,” offered Nicholas. “This is Jim, Grant, and Shannon. And you’ve already met Max.” Each team member greeted Lori with a firm handshake and a smile of gratitude. Then Max offered Lori his seat beside Nicholas’ bed.

The six of them made small talk for a few moments, then Lori noticed Nicholas trying to stifle a yawn. “I’d better get out of here and let you get some rest,” she remarked, reaching over to grasp his hand once again as she stood up.

“I’m sorry.”

“Shhh. You rest,” she chided gently. “I’m glad you’re going to be okay, Nicholas, and it was wonderful to meet you.” She looked around at the others. “All of you.”

“Thank you for coming by,” said Jim sincerely.

Lori opened the door quietly and started to slip out, but then Nicholas’ voice stopped her in her tracks.

“Lori.”

She turned around, mildly concerned. “What is it, Nicholas?”

“In a couple of days, when I’m out of here, we’d like to meet you for dinner somewhere,” he suggested, “as a proper thank you.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“But I want to.”

Lori smiled, then she took the notepad and pen that Shannon was holding and wrote down her address. “I’ll see you then.”

*****

Lori’s mood was buoyant as she exited the hospital. She’d been nervous about meeting Nicholas, but the handsome stranger – and his friends – had turned out to be nicer than she could have imagined. And, best of all, he was going to survive. She could hardly wait to see them again.

Distracted by her thoughts, she didn’t hear the slight shuffling sound behind her, so she was taken by surprise when a hand suddenly flew over her mouth. In the next instant, she felt hard steel pressed against her side.

“Not a peep.” The gruff male voice was low against her ear. “I wouldn’t want to hurt Mr. Black’s sweet sister, but I will if I must.”

As the man forced her into a nearby vehicle, her heart came up in her throat. What was going to happen to her – especially when they figured out that she wasn’t really Nicholas’ sister?

*****

It was getting late, and visiting hours were almost over. Nicholas’ four companions were ready to leave the hospital for the night, so that the injured agent could get some restful sleep. He’d been fighting the urge all evening, forcing himself to stay awake to talk to his friends.

But now, as his teammates were saying their goodbyes for the night, they were startled once again by the ringing of the telephone.

This time, Jim was closer to it. “Hello?”

“Let me talk to Mister Black.” The voice was male – gruff and choppy.

“May I ask who’s calling?”

“It’s private.”

“Just a moment.”

Jim covered the receiver with his palm. “He wants to talk to you. Won’t tell me who he is or what he wants.”

Nicholas’ face was a mask of confusion as he took the phone from his team leader. “This is Nicholas Black.”

“Mister Black. I know you’re not alone. Listen, and don’t say one word, or you’ll regret it.”

Nicholas recognized the voice instantly. He covered the receiver and mouthed, “Roberts!” to his curious teammates.

“You and I have some unfinished business. I was supposed to come back to that safe house and find you dead like the real Campos. But you messed everything up. I knew that I’d never get close enough to you to finish you off, but luckily your little sister did. And now she’s with me. Before you ask, she’s fine for the moment. Now listen closely. I will call you each day at noon until you are released from the hospital. Once that happens, I will give you instructions to return to the mansion. You will come alone, and you won’t tell your friends what you’re doing. Once I have you, I’ll let your sister go. If I see anyone else – cop or otherwise – she dies.”

And with that, the line went dead.

“What’s wrong, Nicholas?” demanded Max, alarmed at his teammate’s sudden pallor. “What did Roberts say?”

Nicholas felt the slightest trepidation at disclosing to his friends what Roberts had said, but there was never a doubt that he would do so. “He’s got Lori,” he said quietly. “He thinks she really is my sister.”

“He must have overheard her at the reception desk downstairs,” reasoned Max, matching Nicholas’ tone. “What does he want?”

“An even trade,” replied the dark-haired agent. “My life for hers. And I’m not supposed to tell you guys anything.” Nicholas looked around the room at his colleagues, and the concern in their faces mirrored his own. “We can’t let him hurt her,” he vowed, his voice pleadingly insistent. “I know she’s not part of the team, but….” His voice trailed off.

“You’re right, Nicholas,” Jim agreed, much to Nicholas’ relief. “Did Roberts tell you where he would be staying?”

“He’s back at the mansion,” Nicholas answered, “and I’m sure Lori is either there or at the safe house.”

“Then this may be our chance to nail Roberts, too,” said Grant.

“That’s just it,” countered Nicholas. “I don’t know how you’re going to help me with this one. Roberts told me to come alone. If he sees anyone else, he will kill her.”

“And if you go alone, he will kill you,” Max deduced worriedly, “so that’s out of the question.”

“There’s got to be a way,” Nicholas insisted, grateful for his teammate’s concern but worried about his new dispatcher friend.

“Well, we’ve only got a couple of days to think about it before you’re out of here,” advised Grant, “and we have to assume that they are watching our every move.”

Jim nodded and looked at his watch. “It’s late,” he remarked. “Let me think about things tonight, and we’ll talk tomorrow.” The elder agent cast a knowing gaze at his younger teammate. “Try to get some sleep, Nicholas.”
“I will,” he promised, forcing a smile, all the while knowing that sleep tonight would be fitful at best.

*****

By the next morning, Jim had worked out the beginnings of a plan to free Lori Lombardi and nail Kevin Roberts in the process. He and the others arrived at the hospital early and spent the day fleshing out the details.

Precisely at noon, Kevin Roberts called again. Nicholas informed him that the doctor had indicated that he was doing much better and had scheduled his release for the following day. Roberts promised to touch base the next day at noon to provide the promised instructions.

Back at the team’s headquarters that afternoon, Grant used his computer skills to locate the floor plan of Kevin Roberts’ mansion. Around midnight, he and Max arrived, parking half a mile away so as not to arouse suspicion.

As the two men, dressed all in black, crept noiselessly toward the compound, Grant spotted a lone armed guard near the basement entrance and nudged Max. With precision, Max fired his dart gun, and the guard toppled to the ground.

“He’ll sleep for a couple of hours, and he won’t remember a thing,” Grant whispered. Then he used his lockpicks to gain entrance to the basement.

It wasn’t long before he and Max found what they were looking for: the open duct work for the ventilation system. Skillfully, they installed the necessary equipment for tomorrow’s mission and were back on the road to headquarters within the hour.

*****

The following day at noon, the telephone rang. Nicholas sighed nervously and answered it on the second ring.

“Hello?”

“Mister Black,” came the cold voice of Kevin Roberts. “Are you alone?”

“Yes,” Nicholas replied honestly, for Jim and the others were already in position.

“Good,” continued the villain. “Now listen carefully. My associate will be waiting outside the door in a blue cab. Get in it. He will drive you to the mansion. Once you’re inside with me, I will release the girl and he will drive her home. Remember, no cops, and no friends, or she dies.”

“I understand,” Nicholas assured him.

“I’ll see you soon.” And with that, the connection was broken.

*****

“Grant, Max,” said Jim, monitoring Grant’s tap on the hospital phone, “he’ll be in a blue cab.”

“Got it,” replied Max from his position half a mile from Roberts’ mansion. “Shannon, are you in position?”

“I’m all set, Max,” responded Shannon from right outside of police headquarters. “Let me know when Nicholas arrives.”

*****

Less than an hour later, Nicholas was released from the hospital. Regulations required that he ride downstairs in a wheelchair. The blue taxicab was waiting for him.

The driver scowled at Nicholas, but no words were exchanged as they traveled to Roberts’ mansion twenty minutes away.

*****

Max lowered his binoculars and picked up his communicator. “Shannon,” he said urgently. “The blue cab just showed up.”

“Got it, Max,” she acknowledged. “I’m going in now.”

Shannon quickly exited her car and walked up the steps to the local police department, her high heels clicking resolutely on the concrete. She opened the door and came face to face with a dispatcher.

“May I help you?”

“I’m Detective Shannon Macintosh,” the agent announced. “My partner and I have uncovered some information about an abduction that I think your sheriff will want to hear. Time is of the essence.”

The no-nonsense confidence in Shannon’s voice and demeanor brought Sheriff Wayne Bridges to the front lobby within moments.

“May I help you, Detective?” he asked by way of greeting.

“Just listen,” Shannon replied, and she switched on a small black monitoring device connected to the speakers in Roberts’ mansion.

*****

The cabdriver turned in his seat to train a sawed-off shotgun at Nicholas’ face. “Let’s go,” he growled.

Nicholas exited the car slowly. The cabdriver kept his weapon firmly in place as they walked inside. Roberts was waiting for them at the door.

“Welcome home, Mister Black,” he said cynically. Behind him, Nicholas could see the nine-one-one dispatcher being held at gunpoint by another of Roberts’ guards; she was bound and gagged but otherwise appeared unharmed. The dark-haired agent sighed in relief.

“Are you all right, Sis?” Nicholas asked anxiously, and Lori nodded. Then Nicholas glared at Roberts. “Okay, Roberts, I’m here. Let her go. That was our agreement, after all.”

“So soon?” Roberts teased, pulling out his own weapon. “I thought the two of you might want one last family reunion before I blow you both away.”

“But you promised to release her!” Nicholas protested, fear gripping his gut despite knowing that their plan was about to be put into action.

“Well, you see, there’s only one problem with that, Mister Black,” Roberts sneered. “She knows who I am, as do you, and I can’t leave any witnesses.” Nicholas heard the telltale click of the hammer as the gun was readied for action. “Besides, I’ve found that killing people is even more fun than selling weapons.”

*****

“Now, Max!” Jim yelled into his communicator.

Max pushed a button, and instantly, a strong anesthetic gas sprayed out of the two large furnace vents in the front room of Roberts’ mansion. It was a formulation much stronger than the gas they had used for the submarine mission – this time, there was no waiting period for it to take effect. Everyone in the mansion, including Nicholas and Lori, fell unconscious within seconds.

*****

“I’ve heard enough!” declared Sheriff Bridges. “Take me to the perpetrator!”

“Of course,” smiled Shannon. “Follow me.”

*****

Grant and Max quickly donned protective gear and entered Roberts’ mansion. Grant scooped up Lori and carried her outside, while Max did the same with Nicholas. Once they were out in the fresh air, the two began to revive, with supplemental oxygen to hasten the process.

Nicholas was the first to open his eyes. He smiled up at Max, and the blond removed the oxygen mask.

“Thanks, Max.”

“You feel okay?” Max asked anxiously.

“I’m fine,” Nicholas assured him. “How’s Lori doing?”

“Coming around,” responded Grant, as the dispatcher began to stir beside him.

Nicholas sat up and grasped her hand, despite Max’s attempts to restrain him. “I’m okay, Max,” he promised. Max patted his friend’s shoulder in relief.

Then Lori opened her eyes, and Nicholas smiled at her.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

“I…think so,” she answered. “What happened?”

“Knockout gas,” Nicholas explained. “It was the only way to keep Roberts and his men from killing us both.”

“It packs quite a punch,” Grant quipped, “but no harmful aftereffects.”

At precisely that moment, Jim’s car pulled into the driveway. Hastily he got out and walked over to where Nicholas and Lori were sitting.

“How’d it go?” he asked.

“We’re fine, Jim,” Nicholas said reassuringly.

“Roberts and his men?”

“Stlll inside,” Max answered. “Now, we wait for Shannon.”

Then, as if on cue, Shannon arrived, with two carloads of sheriff’s deputies in tow. Sheriff Bridges quickly exited his cruiser. Grant was waiting for him with the protective gear that he and Max had worn.

“Detective Grant Harper, Sheriff,” he greeted. “I’m afraid you’ll have to put these on to enter the mansion.” When the sheriff looked at him quizzically, he continued. “We had to use knockout gas to keep Kevin Roberts and his men from killing the hostages,” he explained. “They’re unconscious right now, but they’ll revive as soon as you get them outside.”

And after you’ve safely subdued them and removed their weapons, thought Max.

“How many of them?” asked Sheriff Bridges.

“At least three,” replied Lori, “plus Roberts himself.”

The sheriff nodded. “Will the two of you meet me downtown to give your statements?”

“We’ll be glad to, Sheriff.”

Jim reached into his coat pocket and took out a silver disc. “Here is a taped copy of the audio feed that you heard coming from our equipment,” he explained, handing the disc to the sheriff.

And with that, the five teammates and their new friend headed down to police headquarters, leaving the Roberts mansion behind forever.

*****

Later that evening, the IMF team invited Lori Lombardi to a nearby five-star restaurant for the thank-you dinner that they’d promised her.  Afterwards, Nicholas’ four teammates all bid warm goodbyes to their new friend and gathered in the team’s SUV, while Nicholas and Lori took a walk in the crisp evening air.

“Thank you for a lovely dinner,” said Lori sincerely, “but I still think I’m the one who should be thanking you for saving my life instead of the other way around.”

“But I’m the one who got you in that position in the first place,” Nicholas reminded her. “I’m really glad that Roberts didn’t hurt you. I’d have felt horrible if anything bad had happened to you.”

Lori’s face flushed at Nicholas’ overt kindness. “Your friends,” she said thoughtfully, with a slight emphasis on the word. “Colleagues,” she clarified. “You work so well together.  What is it that you do?” she asked, absently wondering why no one had mentioned that in their dinnertime conversation.

Nicholas winked and smiled at her. “Well, if I told you that, I’d have to kill you,” he quipped.

Lori wrinkled her nose. “No, thanks,” she answered.

“No, I’d say you’ve had enough close calls for one day.”

“More like enough for a lifetime.” Lori stopped walking and looked into Nicholas’ brown eyes, and her mood was wistful. “But I’m still very glad I met you,” she said sincerely. Then her voice grew quiet. “Will I ever see you again?”

Nicholas reached his arm around her in a sideways hug. “Of course, Lori,” he promised. “I’ll be back for Roberts’ trial.” He flashed a grin. “And for family reunions. Sis.”

Lori chuckled as the pair stopped beside of the team’s vehicle. Then she sobered. “Goodbye, Nicholas. Be careful.”

“We will.” Nicholas lifted her hand and kissed it fondly, then he climbed into the SUV and the team disappeared into the night.

(c) 2023