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. 🙂
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Nemesis Chapter 45
Max and Nicholas both ran inside the warehouse and took shelter inside the panel truck as Christie parked his Jeep. He sat still for a moment, thinking.
Something wasn't right.
Christie opened the door of the Jeep and listened. He could hear a gentle whirring in the distance. It sounded like the packing machine! But it wasn't supposed to be operating yet - the cocaine wasn't ready! The supplies weren't even here yet!
Christie leapt out of his Jeep and sprinted toward the warehouse.
"No!" he bellowed when he saw that his suspicions were confirmed and the packing machine was in full operation. "This isn't supposed to be happening!"
He raced from one end of the warehouse to the other, thoroughly confused by what was happening and yelling at nobody in particular at first. "The other truck isn't here! The drugs aren't here!"
Then he turned his attention to finding the man who was supposed to be in charge.
"Kyle! Kyle, where the hell are you?"
Looking all over the warehouse and failing to find him, Christie went back outside to look. There, to the left of the driveway, lay Garcia, hat over his eyes, looking for all the world like he'd just decided to take a nap.
"Kyle!" he screamed. But Garcia, still under the influence of Max's knockout dart, would not wake up until forcibly awakened.
Christie, angry, kicked Garcia hard in the side, which instantly did the trick.
"What-what's going on?" Garcia stammered, slightly disoriented as he got to his feet.
"You tell me!" Christie yelled, gripping Garcia by the shirt collar and shaking him. "The rice is being packaged already, and I can't stop the machine. There's no supply truck, there's no coke, I don't know where the hell Sanders is, and you 're taking a nap!"
Garcia stared at Christie for a long moment, his eyes glassy, as everything his partner said began to sink in. He wrenched himself out of Christie's clutches and stormed inside the warehouse, Christie tailing after him.
Garcia searched until he found the farmer who had started the machine's operation. He reached out and grabbed the farmer roughly by the shoulder.
"Hey!" he yelled, shaking the farmer roughly. "Who gave you orders to fire up that machine?"
"You did, Mister Garcia," the farmer replied timidly.
"What do you mean, I did?" he demanded.
The farmer met Garcia's piercing gaze with one of growing impatience. "Look, first you told me to wait till sunset for the other truck to get here. Then you told me there'd been a change of plans and to go ahead without the other truck. Now you tell me I shouldn't have started it up so soon. Would you just make up your mind?"
Garcia looked at Christie, who was clearly incensed. The fear on Garcia's face was palpable. "John, I swear to you, I never told him to start the machine!" he insisted.
"You fool!" Christie bellowed.
Suddenly, both men heard a faint noise and glanced out the open warehouse door. The vehicle approaching them had its headlights on. It wasn't quite sunset yet, but the light was dim enough that they couldn't yet discern the size of the vehicle.
"Maybe that's the other truck now," Garcia said hopefully, shielding his eyes against the glare created by the headlights and the evening sun. The two men rushed back outside the warehouse to see who had arrived.
When the vehicle parked, it was clear that it wasn't big enough to be the supply vehicle. Presently, the right rear door opened, and the figure who got out was a familiar one.
"There isn't going to be another truck," he answered, his voice low. "The police have already intercepted it, and they're on their way here now."
Instantly, Christie recognized the voice, and his blood ran cold.
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(c) 2016
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